Color of Forgiveness (38 page)

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

“Okay. Read it after we hang up, okay? I’m
at work and I have mascara on, and I look hot today so I don’t want
to ruin my hotness by boohooing like an idiot. My break’s over so
I’ll have to call you later, okay? I love you, honey.”

“I love you too. Thanks for all of
this.”

“You’re welcome.”

Myra sighs and sits down on the bed and
slowly opens the letter.

To Myra, my bestest best virtual buddy in
the whole wide world,

I’m writing this letter prior to the results
of your pregnancy test. I know I shouldn’t have gone crazy and
bought all of this baby stuff prematurely, but I couldn’t help
myself. I apologize. I have problems. Heh. But you already know
this about me.

So if you’re not pregnant, I want you to
pack these things up (except for the custard catchers of course
duh) and hopefully someday you’ll get to use them… when you’re
ready. And I’ll be a little disappointed because I wanted to
continue to have reasons to run to the baby store. (I mean a lot
disappointed) But I have to admit that Dylan is not ready for this.
You, on the other hand are ready. You will be a magnificent mommy
someday when the time is right.

Now, if you are pregnant, I’m just going to
start apologizing now well in advance because I know for a fact
that I’m going to drive you batshit crazy with my stupid
excitement. And Dylan will just have to accept this because that
sexy beast should have put a custard catcher on that power drill of
his! Just sayin’. If he doesn’t accept it, you will move in with me
and we’ll live happily ever after in a non-lesbian way.

But no matter what happens, I love you
dearly. You are the sister that I never had, and you’re everything
that I ever could have wished for in a best friend. Just know that
I will always be here for you and will virtually hold your hand
every step that you take. We’ll get through this together. As the
best of friends.

I Love You Always,

Susie

Myra sets the letter to the side and drops
her head into her hands and breaks down, sobbing.

CHAPTER 11

Dylan looks around the kitchen while he
stretches his aching back.

“We did a good job today, didn’t we?” his
dad asks.

Dylan hums in agreement. They got the
countertops installed and the tiling done on the backsplash. He now
only needs to do the trim and molding work before he can put Myra’s
appliances back in.

He rubs his fingers along the back of his
neck as he thinks about Myra. They’ve barely spoken today. Even
though he didn’t want her to, she’d insisted on fixing him and his
dad lunch and dinner, leaving it on the table and disappearing from
sight. She also came into the kitchen every hour or so throughout
the day to refresh their coffee and see if they needed
anything.

Putting the rest of his tools in his bucket,
he picks it up and walks down the hallway towards the front door.
He sets it down and turns to face his dad. He hates the lost look
he can feel on his face, but doesn’t know where Myra’s at, and he
doesn’t really know what to do about it. Everything’s just
uncomfortable and fucking strange right now, and he hates feeling
so unnerved in her house especially when he was so comfortable in
it just a few days ago.

Just as he opens his mouth to say something
to his dad, he hears his name being called softly. He turns towards
the voice and sees Myra curled up on the couch under a blanket.

His brows pull together. “Is Jackie home
yet?” he asks her in a gruff voice.

“Yeah, she just called a little while
ago.”

“You ready?”

“Yeah,” she says as she stands.

“I’m going to go on outside,” Dennis says
quietly as he picks up Dylan’s tool bucket and steps out the
door.

Myra walks towards Dylan and stops just a
few feet away from him. Her proximity makes his heart pound.
“You’re not going to sleep outside again, are you?” she asks, the
concern in her eyes making him uncomfortable.

He shrugs and tucks his hands in his
pockets.

“Please don’t stay outside. You can sleep on
the couch, or Jackie has an extra bedroom. It hurts me to think of
you being cold out there like that. You might get sick. I’ll stay
in my room, and I promise I won’t bother you.”

I won’t bother you.
Those words cut
him hard and deep. Myra has never been a fucking bother to him,
ever.

He can’t figure out why the hell she’s
worrying so much about his sorry ass anyway. She needs to be
worrying about herself and their baby and this goddamn stalker
that’s after her.

As he stares at her worried face, he feels
torn. He has to stay near enough to protect her and the baby, but
at the same time, he feels like he needs to keep his distance until
he can get the chaos in his head figured out. But he knows he’s
hurting her, and he can’t stand that shit either. It’s tearing him
up inside.

“I guess,” he grunts.

“Thank you. That makes me feel so much
better. I’ll let you and Jackie figure out where you’re going to
sleep.”

“Is that your bag?”

“Yeah…”

With a curt nod, he picks it up and slips
out the front door.

“Everything okay?” Dennis asks.

He gives him a nod and hands him Myra’s
suitcase. “Can you take this over for her? I’m gonna smoke.”

Dennis nods and takes it from him.

Stowing his tools quickly in the back of his
truck, Dylan climbs in the driver’s side, closing the door behind
him. Lighting up a cigarette, he leans his head back and relaxes
for a few minutes.

He blows smoke out of the corner of his
mouth as he looks up into the rearview mirror and sees a patrol car
drive slowly by. They’ve been making the rounds about every hour.
He’s thankful that Porter was at least able to beef up the
protection for Myra.

When Myra comes out of the house, Dylan
watches as she talks to his dad for a few minutes. She slowly
turns, her eyes searching for him, staring in the direction of his
truck. He doubts she can see him in the dark, but she can probably
see the glow of his cigarette. Her expression looks sad as she
finally turns and walks with Dennis over to Jackie’s. Dennis holds
the door open for Myra, and she turns her head one more time,
looking quickly in his direction before she steps into the
house.

Dylan rubs the spot in the center of his
chest that aches as he leans his head back and closes his eyes. He
takes in a deep breath and blows it out slowly, trying to clear his
head. He doesn’t want to think about anything right now; he simply
wants to enjoy his smoke and the silence. But then his phone rings.
His cigarette dangles on his lips as he pulls it out of his coat
pocket. His eyes immediately narrow. Sabrina has a lot of fucking
nerve calling him.

He flips open his phone. “Did you break into
my goddamn house?” he yells with ferocity, the cigarette still
hanging from his lips.

“What?” Sabrina asks. “What are you talking
about?”

He grabs the cigarette out of his mouth and
sits up straighter in his seat. “You broke into my goddamn house, I
know you did. How could you steal my damn photo album? Those were
my
pictures of Mel; the only ones I have… and my
clothes
? That’s really fucking sick. Are you out to hurt
Myra? Because I swear to fuck, if you are… if you ever touch a hair
on her head, I will make you regret it.”

“Dylan! Just shut up for one minute.
God…
I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. I
was calling to see if you were all right. I’ve been worried about
you. What was going on with you yesterday?”

“It’s none of your damn business. Now answer
my questions. Where were you this weekend? Did you come to
Nyssa?”

“No, of course I didn’t. I was in Boise all
weekend.”

“I don’t believe you. Did you follow us to
the cemetery?”

“I already told you no, Dylan. I had no idea
you were in Boise. Besides, you know I always go see Mel on
Sundays. What’s going on? Did someone break into your house?”

Dylan takes in a heavy breath. “Yeah, they
broke into Myra’s too.”

“And you thought
I
did that? How
could you even
think
that I had something to do with that?
You’ve known me forever, Dylan. Do you honestly think I could do
something that awful?”

“I don’t know what to believe about anybody
anymore.”

“Well, you can believe in me. You sound like
you need someone to talk to. You can always talk to me about
anything that’s bothering you, you know that right?”

“Sabrina, I can’t do this with you right
now.”

“Dylan, don’t do this to me. I meant
everything that I said to you before. I don’t understand why you
won’t give me another chance. I think I deserve it. You treated me
like shit after we lost Mel. You were never there and you left me
alone to deal with everything by myself. You completely deserted
me. Do you know how much you hurt me? You killed me on the inside,
Dylan. Do you know that? You
killed
me.”

Dylan flinches. Sabrina’s right. He did all
that shit and more, but he couldn’t help it. Work was the only
thing that kept him sane. But… his eyes narrow. “Is this what
you’re trying to do here,
guilt
me into getting back with
you? Jesus, Sabrina, I have apologized to you over and over again.
Yes, I fucked up. I
am
a fuck-up. I was a complete shit to
you, and I’m sorry for that but we can’t—”

“Yes, we can. We’ve both made mistakes, and
I do forgive you, I really do. I still love you and we won’t know
if it can’t work again unless we try. I’m not going to give up on
you, Dylan. I’ve worked too hard to get to this place in my life to
just give up so easily.”

Dylan feels like his head’s going to
explode.

He clears his throat, flipping open the
ashtray in his truck and snubbing out his cigarette. He digs in his
pocket for another one and quickly lights it. “I’m glad you’ve
worked hard and gotten clean, and I know I was a shitty husband,
but you have to take some blame in this as well. You were just as
fucked up as I was, just in a different way.”

“You’re right. I was and I’m so sorry for
that. We’ve both made mistakes, and that’s why this will work. We
know what we messed up before and we can avoid making the same
mistakes again. You told me that you’re a different person… Well,
I’m different too. We’ve both changed. I went through a lot of
therapy in rehab and learned a lot about myself. But deep down
inside, we’re still those crazy young kids who fell madly in love
with each other. I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen.
That has to count for something.”

That might have meant something to Dylan
before, but not now. Not when his heart belongs to someone
else.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be talking
to you like this—”

“Let’s get together. Please, Dylan? You owe
me for the way you treated me. We have so many things we need to
talk about.”

Dylan’s brows pull together. “What would you
be willing to do to get us back together?”

“I’d do anything, Dylan, absolutely
anything.”

Wrong answer
, Dylan thinks to
himself. “Don’t call me anymore, Sabrina, and you stay the hell
away from Myra, do you understand?”

“Dylan, don’t do this, I—”

Dylan flips his phone shut, turns it off and
tosses it on the floorboard. He takes another puff off of his
cigarette and lies down on the seat of his truck on his back with
his knees bent, and stares up at the ceiling. He closes his eyes,
throwing his forearm above his head as he thinks about Sabrina… and
the real possibility that she might hurt Myra in order to try to
get him back.

* * *

“Thanks for helping me pack,” Jackie says to
Myra as she puts things in a box. They’re upstairs in Jackie’s
bedroom. “At least I don’t have much, thank goodness. I still can’t
believe I might have found someone to rent this place fully
furnished. It’s going to save me and my parents so much time and
trouble and plus put some money in their pockets each month.”

Myra hums in agreement only half paying
attention as she wraps some newspaper around a picture frame.

“I don’t understand why won’t you tell me
what’s going on with you and Dylan. This whole situation is just
weird. His dad is downstairs watching TV, and
he’s
outside
doing who knows what while you sit in here with me moping and
pining away for him.”

Myra looks up at her. “I’m not—”

“Don’t even try to deny it. Did you guys
break up? Are you fighting? I’m so confused. You need to tell me
what’s going on because it’s driving me crazy.”

Myra sighs and stares at Jackie. She still
doesn’t want to talk to her about it. It’s all too raw and painful.
Besides, Jackie talks a lot, non-stop actually and Myra knows she
won’t be able to deal with Jackie constantly giving her advice and
trying to tell her what to do. She gets enough of that from
Susie.

“I guess you could say that we broke up.
Things are just really complicated and I can’t talk about it right
now because it just hurts too much. I’ll let you know when I’m
ready to talk.”

Jackie frowns. “I thought we were best
friends, Myra. I thought that we could talk to each other about
anything.”

“We can… and you are my friend, Jackie. I
will
talk to you, soon.”

Jackie makes an annoyed huffing sound as
Myra looks down at her watch. “It’s getting late. I think I’ll go
to bed,” she says as she closes the box she was working on.

She looks up at Jackie. “I talked to Dylan
earlier and asked him if he’d come inside tonight, and he agreed.
But since things are awkward between us, could you maybe show him
where to sleep and everything?” She pauses when she hears Jackie’s
front door being opened and closed. It must be Dylan. Her heart
skips a beat. “Anyway, do you mind showing him?”