Aussie: A Bad Boy Second Chance Romance (14 page)

I ignored him.

We went back inside.

Mom stood waiting. I looked away from her tear-stained face. I couldn’t let her get to me. I’d made my decision, and there was no turning back.

Dad started to say something, but I cut him off. “You know what? There’s nothing to discuss. We aren’t going to have a conversation about anything.” I paused, looked at my father, then at my mother, and the expressions of shock on their faces. “I know what you did.”

I faced my father to address him. “I know what you did to try to save your business. I know you took money that was meant for Luke.”

I turned my eyes to my mother. “And you knew. You knew all along.”

Tears streamed down her face. She stepped toward my father, her fists balled tightly, and she started to hit him, yelling, “I told you! I told you this would happen if you did it!”

Dad restrained her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him. She relaxed into his arms. She’d lost the drive to fight, but her crying persisted.

My father looked at me. “We didn’t know what else to do. We did it for you.”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare say that. It’s not true, and you know it. Don’t try to put this guilt on me,” I shot back at him.

My father looked away, then spoke. “Dawn, we’re in trouble. Big trouble. We’re going to lose the house. All those trips we were taking…we were house-hunting out of town.”

I suppose I should have felt sorry for them. This was, after all, their dream home, built long ago. It held memories of family, parties, celebrations. Now it was simply walls…and stuff. Expensive shit they’d bought over the years, all funded, at least in part, with the money Luke was supposed to get.

My father continued. “This was about you. We wouldn’t have been able to afford your tuition without that money.”

I felt like I was going to throw-up. My stomach ached with animosity. I loathed them. What the fuck? How could they do that? I’d unwittingly benefited from my parents taking Luke’s money.

“Do you know what you did to him?” I said. “Do you have any idea how that money could have changed his life for the better?”

My father closed his eyes.

“You stole his future,” I went on. “Or at least some of it. Just so you know, you can condemn him all you want for who he used to be, but you should know that he’s different now.   All the bullshit you planted in my head about him…all of it was wrong. He wasn’t the bad guy.” I paused, working up my nerve for this next line. “You were.”

I walked past them, removed the house key from my key ring, and placed it on the table near the front door.

Mom said, “Dawn, wait.”

I had one foot outside. I didn’t turn around. I stepped onto the porch, and pulled the door closed. I wouldn’t be back. Ever.

Dawn was slipping. I could see it every day. She’d started to call in sick to work. Twice the first week, three times during the second.

Each day before I left, I’d ask her what she was doing that day. Sometimes she’d shrug, other times she’d tell me she hadn’t decided yet. I didn’t want to press her. It wasn’t my place. But I saw something in her that I’d seen before in myself and in others.

The stress of the last two weeks was taking its toll. I tried to fix it, prevent it, turn it around, move us closer, work toward the happiness I knew we deserved. The only problem was that I wasn’t the one she had the issue with. This was between Dawn and her parents.

Understandable. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to find out that your parents were lying thieves, so I didn’t try. But one thing I did understand was what it was like to lose your parents.

All of my anger toward them for what they’d done was pushed aside by the rational side of knowing all too well that she needed to reconcile with them. Maybe not that very day, maybe not in a matter of weeks or a few months. It would take time. She had to find a way to accept what had happened and find herself again. Find a way to be the Dawn she was before their actions cast a shadow over her entire existence.

Did I want to go to her father and kick his ass? Yeah, I did. The younger me would have taken that route, a quick jerk reaction. Thankfully, I’d matured over the years and understood the necessity to think before acting. It would only lead to legal trouble for me, and make things worse for Dawn. Not worth it. She was all I cared about. I needed to keep a clear head.

Instead, I focused on making things right with her. Or trying anyway. I tried gently, careful not to be pushy in any way, or there’d be no shot at helping.

I made it a point for us to get to the beach at least once a day. That’s where we’d spent so much time as kids. Things weren’t perfect then. We weren’t together at the time. But the sand and surf was the backdrop of our lives for so many years.

Some evenings we sat on the beach until the sun dipped below the horizon. Sometimes we talked, laughed, told stories; other times we just sat there, me holding her close, the only sound coming from the wind and the water.

One early morning we went out with some stale bread and fed the seagulls. One afternoon, when a production meeting was cancelled, I left work early and Dawn and I spent the day on the beach—me surfing, her standing on the beach smiling and clapping and laughing when I exaggerated a wipe-out in shallow water.

She ran over to me as I feigned injury, and she jokingly called me a pussy. She yelled at me to get out there and grab the next wave, and keep doing it until I got it right.

A few people looked over, probably wondering why I would put up with such an abusive surfing coach. Thankfully, she hadn’t lost her sense of humor, and was still the playful Dawn I knew and loved.

One night, she’d been invited out by her girlfriends. But she said she wasn’t going. All she offered was a shrug when I asked why. I encouraged her to go. She needed it. Being with her friends would get her out of the apartment, give her a few hours of doing something without me.

Look, I was no expert on this kind of situation, but I’d been there myself and I’d seen others in the same predicament. I couldn’t provide talk therapy. I couldn’t prescribe medication. But one thing I knew was that getting out and living life was one small punch in the face to depression. She needed to get a foothold back on her life.

I never mentioned the word depression. I didn’t want her to think it was some judgement. I knew that feeling, but she was clearly on the verge.

One night, we’d gone for a walk on the beach after dinner, and she was finally ready to talk.

She hesitated, then revealed one of her fears. “What if you decide it’s too weird to be with me, after everything they’ve done to you? I’m afraid of losing you when it all sinks in.”

I stopped and turned her toward me. “What are you talking about?”

She tried to look away from me, but I cupped her chin so she’d meet my gaze.

Dawn closed her eyes. It was easier for her to get her words out. “Aren’t you going to think of what my parents did every time you look at me?”

I felt like I’d been stabbed by her words. Not that I took offense in any way, but because I had no idea that she was thinking that all this time. No freaking way. All I wanted and cared about was having Dawn in my life. “No fucking way. I adore you. You’re the single most important thing to me. Don’t forget that.”

She opened her eyes and looked at me.

“Dawn, I’m serious. You can’t think that. It’s never crossed my mind. Not even once.”

“I guess I just feel…guilty.” The look on her face said it all. She was so distressed; I could almost see physical pain. She whispered, almost unable to get it out. “They used some of your money to put me through school.”

I closed my eyes. That’s what this had been about. She thought she’d deprived me. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

“But—”

“Hey, don’t you trust me? After all we went through back then, and all we’ve gone through now? Don’t you trust me?”

She let out a heavy sigh and tilted her head. “Of course I do. You’re the only person on this planet I trust.”

“Then believe me. It’s really that simple. That’s all you have to do. Trust me. ”

*****

By the end of our third week of living together, she’d come around. I was relieved and happy when she’d gone out with her friends twice, and was no longer calling in sick to the store.

I was at work one day, at BLACKWOOD Studios, going over some old footage that Grant had shot for a previous movie. It was all different stuff that had been discarded during the editing process. I’d just watched the final cut of the movie and was getting the feel for what was left out and why. All part of the learning process of filmmaking, but more specifically, I wanted to get a feel for exactly the type of shots he liked and didn’t like.

The door opened behind me. I turned and saw Grant looking into the room. “What are you working on?”

I told him what I was looking at.

“Smart,” he said, and walked over to where I was sitting. He sat next to me. “I thought you left.”

He looked at his phone. “It’s after six. Dawn working late?”

“Yeah.”

“That didn’t sound good.”

I looked at him.

He just looked back at me, expressionless at first, then raising an eyebrow.

I leaned back in my chair and put my hands behind my head. “Just a little stress at home.” I didn’t want to go into the story too much—actually not at all—and luckily Grant didn’t press me on it. But I added, “My girlfriend—”

“Dawn,” he interrupted.

“Right.” He’d never met her, but I’d mentioned her once or twice. This guy really paid attention when you talked. “Just some problems with her parents she needs to resolve, but it’s taken a little bit of a toll on both of us.”

Grant sat silently.

I turned off the computer monitors I’d been watching. “But it’ll work itself out.”

“Or it won’t.”

I turned my head toward him quickly, wondering why he’d put a negative spin on it.

“I’ve heard you talk about her twice now,” he said. “And I’ve seen how you’re different after a long stretch of work during the day, then you make a phone call—I’m assuming it’s to her—and you come back re-energized.”

He was right. I did that every day.

Grant stood. “I’m no expert on this kind of thing, but I’ve been there. Rebecca and I had to deal with all kinds of shit from the outside that could have kept us apart. Anyway, you want my one piece of advice and then I’ll say no more?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

“This town is full of frauds, fake people everywhere, all trying to get something, and they don’t care who they run over in the process. If you’ve found a girl with any authenticity at all, don’t let her go. So when you say ‘it will work itself out’ remember: it might not. You have to make it work.”

The door opened. It was Grant’s wife, Rebecca. She looked at me and smiled. “Sorry to interrupt.” She looked at Grant. “Are you going to be much longer?”

“I’m ready.”

Rebecca closed the door.

Grant said, “I’ve got to go. It’s our one date night of the week. Not easy to come by with three kids, but we make it happen.” He took a few steps toward the door and, with his back to me, he said, “You always have to make it work.”

*****

I knew part of making it work didn’t include going to Dawn’s parents’ house, but that’s where I found myself that same evening, after making one stop.

I left the studio early that day. I headed to a personal meeting, not mentioning what it was about. That meeting lasted all of twenty minutes, cost me a hundred and fifty bucks, but it put part of this whole saga to rest. The only thing left to do was confront her father.

I showed up unannounced, rang the doorbell. Dawn’s father answered the door.  All of the muscles in his face fell slack as his mouth dropped open, then closed. A rapid flash of anger took over. “Why are you here?”

“I talked to a lawyer today and made decisions.”

He stepped out on the porch.

I heard Dawn’s mother calling out from another room. “Stephen, who’s there?”

“I’ll just be a minute,” he said and then closed the door behind him. “Are you suing me?”

“No.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re not…”

“I can’t. I thought about it, but I’m actually relieved. I want to put this behind me. My parents made a mistake trusting you. I know there’s nothing on paper. There’s no proof of any kind of agreement. And relying on
you
to tell the truth…well, I guess we both know how that would go, right?”

“Where’s Dawn?”

I laughed. “Now that I’m telling you you’re off the hook legally, you won’t answer my question. We couldn’t count on you to tell the truth, could we?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He played dumb.

I nodded. “Thought so. Dawn’s fine. In fact, she’s more than fine.”

“Whatever you’re saying to her to keep her from talking to us about this—”

I stepped closer to him. He backed up. “I’m not doing shit to keep her from talking to you. You should be thanking me.”

He didn’t say anything.

I backed up, away from him, and leaned against one of the giant white columns on the porch. “Say thank you.”

His face scrunched up in confusion. “For what?”

“For not trying to turn your daughter away from you. More than she already is, I mean. You fucked me over, but the worst thing you did was hurt your daughter.” I stepped down the porch steps and turned to face him again.

He stared at me. Not sure what to say.

I continued. “She’ll come around. She’s a good person, despite being raised by a selfish, lying asshole. Maybe one day she’ll talk to you, but that’s her choice, not mine.” I walked to my Jeep and left it at that.