Yesterday's Tomorrows Page 5

  Cal's eyes remained troubled, but his frown turned into a grin. "I'll take you up on that. I can double sic a bad-ass Marine and a top lawyer on those boys all in one package."

  "In that case, I better collect a retainer fee," I joked.

  Cal laughed but grew serious again. "Seriously. I think it's time, don't you?"

  The downside to a close family is they felt compelled to butt in.

  "Time for what? The Steelers to take the division title this year? I agree." I knew exactly what he was referring to, but playing ignorant was my go-to defense and pathetic attempt to deflect the conversation.

  "Holt --"

  "Cal, I know you mean well. But forever only comes around once. I had it. I wish it had lived up to its name, but it didn't. I have to live with that." 'Live' being the operative word and an interesting choice given my behavior after Claire died. Only the tough love of my family pulled me through that dark time.

  "That doesn't mean you can't find someone else. Loving another woman isn't going to take anything away from Claire."

  I shook my head. "I don't think so. Look, I understand what you're trying to say. I should move on and find someone to be happy with, but I'd only be settling. Claire made me feel strong and capable of anything. We saw eye to eye on almost everything. We were perfect together, and no one can replace that. She was ‘the one.’"

  "I don’t believe that. She was ‘the one’ at that time in your life, and if circumstances had been different, maybe your whole lives. But life is different now, you’re different. So you don't replace it. You find something different but just as good. And no one is perfect, not even Claire."

  "Like hell, she wasn't." I had to hand it to him; he had the balls not to back down at my angry glare.

  "Holt, I know Claire was a wonderful woman," he persisted. "She was kind and sweet, and she loved you, and we all loved her. But you've allowed your memories to cloud over reality. And because of that, you hold other women up to an impossible standard that even Claire would fail to live up to at this point."

  I started to stand up, but Cal put his hand on my arm and pulled me back down. "Sit your ass down and listen."

  "Cal, don't be so mean." Carol's voice soothed. The couch shifted as she curled up on the other side of me. "You should listen to what he has to say, Holt."

  Great. Good sibling, bad sibling - it was gang-up-on-baby-brother time.

  "No, Carol. We've pussyfooted around him long enough. We talked about this, remember?"

  "You've all been talking about me? Behind my back?” Didn’t they have anything better to do with all their time?

  "We're worried about you, Holt," Carol said. "It's been a long time. More than long enough to move on. You deserve to be happy."

  "I'm fine! And it's none of your damn business." I looked around for any person or any excuse to end this conversation before one of us said something we regretted, but everyone had disappeared.

  "Bullshit," Cal burst. "We love you, so that makes you our business, especially after the hell we went through alongside you. Losing Claire was horrible. But you know what was just as bad? Losing my little brother right along with her.” He leaned closer to me and hissed, “You need to hear this. She's dead, but you aren't."

  "Fuck you, Callum."

  "No, fuck this 'poor you' attitude you have,” he roared. “You lost someone you loved. We get it. But it's been five years, Holt. How long are you going to put your life on hold?"

  "I have moved on," I shouted.

  "You changed careers, and thank fuck for that! But why don't you date? No girlfriends for you, just girls you screw and move on."

  I scowled. He was right, and we both knew it, so there wasn't much I could say.

  "There's no perfect girl out there. Even Claire wasn't perfect. Remember how she nearly fell apart and wanted to call off the engagement because you joined the Corps? That’s not exactly what I’d call a supportive girlfriend."

  "That's because she was fucking scared for me! What would you know about what Claire was going through?"

  Carol cleared her throat and leveled an eye at me. "Well, I do understand that it wasn't easy for her. We're not saying you two weren't in love. I'm saying love can look different with a different person, but that doesn't make it any less. And it doesn't deny what you had with Claire. Just don't close yourself off to possibilities because you compare everything to what you had with Claire."

  I leaned my head back against the cushions and rubbed my hands over my eyes. "If I'd known today was going to be a fucking intervention, I'd have stayed home," I muttered.

  "Cal, Carol, leave your brother alone." Our mom's voice had that no-nonsense tone that even as adults, we found difficult to ignore.

  "But..." Cal tried anyway.

  I didn't hear any other words but felt the couch shift on either side of me as it was relieved of two-thirds of its burden. I didn't need the benefit of opening my eyes to know the look my mother must have given my older siblings.

  "They meant well, you know, even if they were a wee bit overbearing."

  I cracked open an eye. "I know."

  "They weren't wrong, either."

  "You, too, Mom?"

  "Dinna take that tone with me," she began. "I..."

  I zoned out and began to wish for an emergency to come up at work so I could get the hell out of here. Even some mundane chore such as checking up on Madelyn Stone sounded preferable now. How bad had it become that I'd rather spend time with a released inmate than my family?

  Not that Madelyn Stone was as bad as I'd been expecting. She was quick-witted, yet sensitive. She wasn't glamorous, but then, who would be after spending years behind bars? And her mouth! I liked that she wasn't afraid to call me out, rather than sucking up. Although, speaking of sucking, I wondered what she might look like with her full lips open wide and full of my...

  Where the hell had all of these sudden thoughts come from? I squeezed my knee hard with my hand, mentally choking my neck. I was sickened that I could be so easily distracted from the woman that was previously being discussed. Claire was who I loved. I didn't even like women like Maddy, women who had a criminal background, someone who could be violent, unpredictable…exciting…spontaneous…with skin that beckoned to find out if it was as soft and creamy as it looked...

  God bless America! I squeezed both knees this time.

  "...I worry about you, Son. I don't want you to be alone the rest of your life."

  And we're back. I glared at my mother.

  "So I should hook up with some woman to make my family happy?" My mom shook her head, but I didn't give her a chance to talk. I needed to nip this conversation. "Mom, I loved Claire. I still do. I'm grateful I had her for the time we were given, but it was stolen from me too soon. I appreciate this onslaught of sudden concern about me, but I'm fine. Really."

  The velocity of emotions that came at me from all directions threatened to destroy all my carefully constructed walls which were designed to help me survive each day. They felt like they were closing in on me. I stood up to leave the room and go...somewhere. Anywhere. I just wanted to be alone, away from people who thought they knew what I needed better than I did.

  Alone.

  Is that what I wanted? No. But that's what fate had determined for me.

  "Holt, wait. Please."

  Only the concern in her voice made me pause. Slowly, I turned and faced her, shoving my hands in my pockets to hide how I was clenching them. She walked to me and pressed her palms against my cheeks. "Is it your devotion to Claire holding you back? Or your fears?"

  "I made promises, Mom. I promised her forever."

  "You kept your promise. But your heart didn't cease its ability to give or receive love. Her forever is over. Yours isn't." She pulled my head down and kissed my cheek. "I love you, Holten. Just think about it."

  She walked out of the room leaving me stuck with her parting words that hung in the air. I hesitated then scooped up my jacket and car keys. My family was
just going to have to deal that I needed some time alone.

  Always fucking alone.

  6

  Maddy

  Bit by bit over the next few weeks I began to relax. I was so used to having my guard up and being distrustful it was difficult to meet friendliness with friendliness, but I was getting better at it. I'd met a couple of my neighbors in passing and found them pleasant enough, although most kept to themselves which made it easier.

  I'd particularly gotten to know my neighbor across the hall. Serafina was a single mom with a five-year-old son, Miguel. I'd been on a baking spree and decided to bite the bullet one evening and took some chocolate chip cookies over. They were an instant hit with Miguel. Serafina, although polite, was harder to win over, and I suspected she had her own tough life story that made her cautious. Perhaps she recognized a kindred spirit, however, because she was warming up and had even invited me over for a traditional Spanish meal of arroz con pollo.

  It turned out I had worried needlessly about meeting my new boss. I'd been scared she would view me with suspicion or disdain. But to my delight, Mrs. Holmes was friendly and patient as she explained my role as a General Service Clerk. I began my days filling any requests for supplies from individual offices. Then the rest of the day was spent making copies and binding countless materials until the mail came. It was my responsibility to sort and deliver it. Any spare time I had was spent maintaining the legal library. I had always been good at organizing things and had some similar experience working at the prison library. I caught on quickly, and Mrs. Holmes praised my efforts.

  I didn't find it difficult work, and it was varied enough I didn't get bored, although it wasn't something I wanted to do the rest of my life. I recognized I was extraordinarily fortunate to have such a supportive opportunity. Too many of my peers were thrust suddenly back into society without any support system in place. I could see where having so much freedom could be trouble for many former inmates who might be tempted by the dangers that lurked around every corner like alcohol, drugs, sex, quick tempers, and judgmental people once they learned about the dark shadows of your past. So much freedom all at once could be a dangerous thing for many.

  I still sometimes fought the need to look over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't the bulls-eye for a knife or fist, or some other twisted, perverted action. I avoided large crowds at all costs after nearly hyperventilating once when I found myself caught up in the five o'clock rush of employees anxious to get home. After being bumped into and knocked about, I'd somehow managed to escape into a bathroom where I hid in a stall for close to an hour, calming my wildly beating heart and steadying my breathing before I garnered enough confidence to try again. Now, instead of leaving with everyone else, I clocked out at the appointed hour but hung out between the quiet rows of books in the legal library or the break room. It wasn't like there was anyone expecting me at home or anywhere else.

  I still wasn't completely comfortable with just my own company in the evenings. In an odd sense, I suppose I missed the structure of having my days and evenings planned out for me. I was learning to appreciate the quiet at my apartment, but there were still times I felt at a loss for what to do. Given my love for books, I often spent evenings at the nearby public library.

  On one of my visits there, a brightly decorated bulletin board caught my eye. Large letters announcing 'Job Opportunities' stood out at the top. Curious, I scanned the many fliers that covered the board. Most were for telemarketing positions, home sales, or courier opportunities, none of which caught my interest. I turned to leave, but bold letters on a blue sheet of paper halted my tracks. 'Online Tutors Needed.' Maybe I couldn't teach in a classroom environment, but maybe I'd be allowed to help if it was online. The paper outlined that they needed individuals who could be available to answer assist students during evening hours over the computer. I borrowed a piece of paper and pencil and copied down the information.

  The next day, I used my lunch break to call and inquire about the position. A friendly woman named Mary answered and began to explain about what she was seeking. "We're looking for qualified individuals who can help students who have questions about their homework. We find most of the questions come from middle and high school students, particularly in the subjects of English, math, and chemistry, but sometimes we get elementary aged students, also. Sometimes the subjects are beyond a parent's ability, and sometimes the student simply doesn't have anyone at home who can, or even will, help. Sometimes I think we have a few who are just lonely, and this is a way to reach out and have someone to talk to."

  I felt my heart break at her assessment. She was probably right. I had gone to a school where either the parents had to work multiple jobs and weren't home, or they had barely gotten through school themselves and struggled to help their child. And then there were some who just don't give a damn about their kid. I knew that group a little too well. I shook my head and focused on what Mary was saying.

  She went on to explain how there were various ways to communicate with the students, including a new program called 'Virtual Teacher' that allowed for real-time on screen interaction, particularly useful in subjects like math and science. "It's quite amazing, and we're lucky to have it. We would provide you with a tablet and stylus that is needed to make this work. It simply attaches to any computer."

  My heart sunk. I hadn't thought about needing a computer. Maybe I'd still be able to use the ones at the library? Or maybe I'd have to skimp and stretch my budget to accommodate a computer. Were there used ones I could buy? Somehow I'd make this work if I could just get the job.

  "That sounds fascinating. I can't say I'd be much help with science," I laughed. "But I was always very good in my English classes, and I excelled at math." I felt excitement build at the prospect of being able to do something close to what I always had wanted to do.

  "Oh, well that sounds excellent!" Mary exclaimed. "We have an application process, but it's fairly simple. I'll email you the form. It's just the basics, name, address, schools you attended, you know, the usual. Oh, and, of course, a background check will be necessary."

  If my heart skipped a beat about her 'schools attended' comment, it sunk at the 'background check' one. How stupid of me. I'd hoped because it was an online job that maybe that would be skipped. Mary obviously noticed the silence on my part.

  "Is there a problem?" Her voice was crisp with alertness.

  I hesitated, even considered hanging up and ending this pipe dream right there. But I also recognized this was a situation I was going to encounter over and over again, and the sooner I practiced dealing with it, the better.

  "Well, I've had some unfortunate events happen, and I'm afraid I didn't finish school in the conventional way, but I assure you I excelled in all my classes, most of which were advanced, and I can support that with my transcripts."

  "Could you be more specific?"

  I sensed an edge of impatience, but at least she hadn't bid me a good day and hung up.

  "To be honest, I couldn’t graduate with my class, and my few college credits are from online courses."

  "Due to illness?"

  I blew out my breath and blurted, "No. I was in prison."

  There was the expected moment of silence, and I waited to hear the click as she disconnected the call.

  "Well," she finally said, "I wasn't anticipating that."

  "I understand," I said softly, disappointment burning behind my eyes. "I'm sorry for wasting your time."

  "Wait!" Her sharp voice caught my attention before I replaced the receiver on the hook. "Don't hang up."

  "Um, okay." I was nervous about what she might have to say. I prepared myself to be blasted with accusations about being a predator or who knows what?

  "I'm thinking," she said, and I waited for what felt like an eternity of silence. Finally, she continued. "I'll admit it's not the ideal circumstance, especially since you'd be working with minors. But I know about troubled paths myself. I hope you understand that I need to know
more about you, your circumstances, and I'd require several letters of recommendations. And I think this calls for a personal interview. Would you be agreeable to that, even knowing I can't promise anything?"

  I was flooded with hope. Even with no guarantees, here was a woman who was willing to judge me on more than the one incident that irrevocably changed my life. "Yes! Definitely yes." My face flushed with excitement as we arranged a meeting for the next evening. I hung up the phone but continued to sit, needing a few moments to contain my excitement.

  An amused voice startled me from my daydreams. "You look like the cat that got the cream."

  I looked into the dark brown eyes of Holten Andrews. I had only caught glimpses of him during my time here, and those were mostly limited to seeing him through the windows of a conference room. I guessed he must be busy getting ready for something big, given the number of books I was constantly replacing in the library that had been checked out in his name.

  "Know a lot about cats, do you?" I teased. Even he wasn't going to bring down my mood.

  "It's just an expression my mom uses." He smirked. "I'm more of a dog man. I find them easier to understand than cats...or women."

  I ignored all the pussy innuendos that floated through my brain about his experience with women. "Well, let me try to make it easy for you, then, Mr. Andrews. I was simply happy with a possible new opportunity."

  "Moving on from this one already?" He frowned.

  Immediately my defenses flared at what sounded like an accusation. "What? No! I like my job here." I crossed my arms. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but it's a chance to do something I've always wanted to do, in addition to this job." Angered at his assumptions, I whirled around and pretended to straighten some papers that were on the table.

  I heard him sigh. "Look, I'm sorry. And call me Holt."

  I shrugged. "It's fine."

  "No, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. Everyone is entitled to go for their dreams."