Ignite (34 page)

“Wasn’t that about the time he fell off the wagon?”

“Yes, but he got back on it, didn’t he?” I was confused as to why Jed was defending Dean when he wasn’t his biggest fan at the hospital the other day. I took a deep breath. Whatever was in these letters must be crazy if they had such an effect on everyone.

“Thanks Uncle Jed,” I said as I saw him out the door. “I’ll look it all over.”

He nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”

I clutched the letter in my hand as I shut the door. There was no way I could open it.

I let it and the other papers sit on the dining room table for a few days. I still hadn’t spoken to Dean, and I felt terrible, like it was wearing me down, body and soul.

Finally, I went down to the bank to sort out the business of my trust fund.

Trust fund
. I still couldn’t believe it was real. That wasn’t something I ever expected to have, especially when it was dropped in my lap after I had an internal crisis over tuition.

The bank was downtown, and was much bigger than any financial institution I’d ever used before. Just by looking at the outside, I could tell this wasn’t your average bank.

The teller treated me like I was royalty when I handed over my three forms of I.D. along with the trust confirmation.

“This way, Miss Lindsay.”

He led me to a back room where I assumed the safe deposit boxes were kept. He opened one and asked me to hold my hand out. “It secures to your fingerprint,” he assured me. “Since this is the first time you’re accessing it now that you’re of age, any time you wish to access it, you will provide fingerprints. In the event that you are no longer able to open the box, you may name a second person who will only be allowed the contents of the box in the event that you are incapacitated.”

By incapacitated, I assumed he meant I was no longer alive.

“Would you like to name that person now?”

I thought for a moment. I didn’t know what was in the box yet, but I probably should. My dad’s motto was “always be prepared” and clearly he was. He would want me to be as well.

“I might mention,” the teller added. “Whoever you name will also be responsible for the trust money if you are no longer in need of it as well.”

I took a deep breath. My first thought was to leave it to Emma, but she wouldn’t be old enough for a very long time. Same with Chase. As much as I loved Callie, I couldn’t leave it to her either. I thought about Kenzie, but settled on another.

“Yes,” I said, trying to sound as confident as possible.

“I’ll need that person’s name. At some point, you will need to bring them here so we can fingerprint them as well for security.”

“I understand,” I told him.

“The name?” He held out a tablet for me to type it in, and I typed a first and last name.

“I’m going to read it back to you,” he said, taking the tablet from me. He did.

“I need a full, legal name because it’s binding. Are there any changes?”

I realized I’d made a mistake, so I reached out for the tablet to rearrange it.

“Ah, what an iconic name,” the teller said politely. “Now, the box.”

He pressed another button on the tablet and the walls started to move. I saw boxes shifting around behind the class until one arrived in the little glass terminal in front of me. The teller took it and held it out to me.

“Say your full, legal name when I say so, and hold out your right index finger.”

I did as he asked.

“Lauren Annabelle Lindsay,” I said clearly as I pressed my finger against the box. It clicked open, and he held it out to me.

“I’ll give you some time. When you’re done, put the box back there and press the button on the door to leave. The box will then be stowed until your next visit.”

I thanked him and waited for the door to close before I opened the box. I wasn’t sure what I would find. I shook as I carefully opened the lid.

Inside was another stack of letters. As I pulled the string off of them and fanned them out on the table, they each had a date or a life event that went with them.
Wedding day, twenty-fifth birthday, first child,
etc. My eyes fell on the last one which read:
WHEN YOU NEED ME THE MOST.

Tears welled in my eyes. How did he know? How did he have a chance to write these, knowing that he wouldn’t be here? I thought back to what Jed had said about how my father just knew things before they happened.

Could he have known about this?

I put the letters back in a bundle and set them aside. There was a small velvet box that looked like it should contain a ring. I opened it, wondering to whom it could possibly belong. I didn’t think my father would want to give me the ring he had given my mother, considering it wasn’t a very good omen. As I opened the box, I was surprised that it was empty. Why would he leave me an empty ring box? I set that next to the letters. The rest were pictures of me and Tucker when we were little, and another sealed envelope that was rigid. On the front it said
For Emma.

I felt like I couldn’t open that now. That was all that was in the box. Why was this all in a safe deposit box rather than in a box in the house? It didn’t make sense.

I looked up and around the room. At this point, I was contemplating any angle. Was my dad a spy? There was no way any of this was real life.

I gathered my courage and the letter for Emma and put everything else back in the box. I opened the ring box one more time, just to make sure it was empty. It was.

I put the safety deposit box back where the teller told me and pressed the button to leave. I had more than one thing to fix, and it couldn’t wait.

BY THE TIME I had finished the application, all of the kids were in bed. I put it in a fresh envelope and put it in my bag to take to the post office first thing in the morning. The guardianship papers were still in the packet and would be dealt with tomorrow. I couldn’t sign any more papers today without my hand falling off. I put the envelope for Emma on the dresser and picked up the letter that Jed had given me from my dad.

I put it in my pocket and slipped out the front door. I walked down to Dean’s house, feeling more calm than I had in a while. At last, the chaos was subsiding and everything felt more like it should.

When he answered, I took a deep breath.

“I’m exhausted,” I told him. “I don’t want to be mad at you anymore.”

“So, don’t be,” he said simply.

He pulled me inside and into his living room.

“Tell me what this is really about, because I know it’s not about tuition money or transferring, or signing the papers to take the kids.”

He saw straight through me.

“You’re right,” I admitted. My courage was quickly deserting me.

I sat next to him and we stared at one another for a long time. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. My eyes watched his flick to my lips, then back up. There was a certain look in his eyes. It was one I wasn’t used to.

I wanted to run by default, but he saw through it. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought it was panic in his expression as his hands like iron went around my wrists as I got up to leave again. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just commit?

I gasped, frozen in place, and his grip softened.

“No, he said softly. “Please.”

“Dean,” I protested.

He shut his eyes.

“Don’t shut me out,” he said. “I’ve seen you do it. No more Siberia. Let me help you figure all of this out.”

I bit my lip and looked down.

“Hey,” he said, tilting my chin up so my eyes met his. “Tell me.” His eyes searched mine. “Please.”

My heart pounded and one of his hands went up to my cheek. Instinctively, I leaned into it, but hated myself for trusting him like this.

“You don’t understand,” I told him.

“So help me,” he whispered gently, his eyes full of concern.

I shook my head. I knew I was being childish, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t know how to do this. My eyes met his again, and I got chills. Something about him did that to me, and I resented him for it. I couldn’t go through that heartbreak again.

I thought of the letter that was burning a hole in my pocket.

“I can’t,” I said softly. A tear fell from my eye onto his lap, but his gaze never left mine.

“Lauren,” he said, his voice broken, “How do you not understand how I feel about you after everything that’s happened? After everything I’ve said?”

I did know because he’d showed me and told me, but I just wouldn’t let myself acknowledge it because I couldn’t believe that someone could possibly love me or want to be with me.

He gripped my face in his hands and leaned closer.

“Tell me,” he said, more of a plea than an order.

The tears fell freely now and my vision blurred.

“I can’t,” I said again. “I can’t trust anyone. I thought I had it, I thought I was done. But then he betrayed me. I can’t trust anyone—I can’t even think about going there with someone unless I know that won’t happen again. I can’t get hurt like that. I’ll have nothing left.”

A silence hung in the air.

“By someone,” he said softly, “You mean me.”

Part of it sounded like a question, but I knew it was a statement. He was testing me. I didn’t want him to mock me, but I was too tired to put up a fight. I nodded.

He gripped my face.

“Look at me,” he whispered fiercely. “Please.”

Reluctantly, I met his gaze, his features swimming through my tears.

“Lauren,” he said gently. “I know how hurt you were. How hurt you still are. I can see it. It kills me to know he did this to you, but if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here with me now. So part of me wants to thank him for giving you up even though it hurt you so much.”

I sniffled.

“Breathe,” he told me, and inhaled and exhaled, so I did it too.

“I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t feel more than I thought I could feel. I want more. I want it to work. I don’t want to ever hurt you. I want to be the person who takes all of that pain away.”

I could barely comprehend what he was saying. It couldn’t be real.

“Do you understand?” He leaned in and put his forehead against mine.

I nodded and started crying again. I was a complete mess.

“Good,” he leaned back and kissed my forehead. “Now come here.”

He pulled me across his lap so that we were sideways on the couch facing one another. His arms came around me, holding me, keeping me warm. The safety I’d felt with him before returned.

“For the record,” he said after a moment, “It’s hard for me too. You have no idea how hard. You aren’t the only one with abandonment issues. So don’t break
my
heart. Please.”

“I won’t,” I said, more of a squeak than a whisper, but he heard it.

I felt his heart hammering against mine.

His lips brushed mine ever so quickly, and I shivered in his arms. He pulled me closer.

“What else?” Dean asked, brushing my hair away from my face. “There’s more.”

I took a deep breath and pulled the letter out. He knew me too well.

“What is that?”

“It’s a letter.”

“Who is it from?”

“My dad.”

He swallowed and looked at it like it might light itself on fire at any time.

“Have you read it yet?”

I shook my head.

“No, I can’t bring myself to open it.”

“Where did you get it?” He suddenly seemed agitated.

“Jed just gave it to me. Along with my trust fund.”

“Your trust fund?”

“And then I applied for school.”

He kissed my forehead and beamed.

“That’s amazing, Lauren. I’m so proud of you.”

I nodded.

“Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you acting so weird?”

He shrugged.

“No reason.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

He bit his lip as he released me and got up from the couch.

“You should open the letter,” he said. He walked to the fireplace and facing away from me.

Suddenly, I remembered something Jed had said to me.

He gave me one for Dean as well. He read it when he was eighteen.

My heart was in my throat. Why would Dean have a letter from my dad? My stomach dropped and I felt like I was going to be sick. What wasn’t he telling me?