Montana Cherries (28 page)

chapter twenty-four

Two weeks later

T
hank you all for the party.” Bette Turner poked her head into the break room one last time, placing her half-eaten cake on the small table. Her Gucci pumps and crisp, black pantsuit provided her the same formidable power that Dani assumed she’d shown at BA Advertising for the past twenty-three years, and Dani couldn’t help but picture the woman in her same clothes, scooping up the grandbabies she was moving to the middle of Indiana to enjoy. “It was a lovely surprise.”

The colleagues who’d worked the closest with Bette moved in for a final hug. It was rolling down to the last minutes of her last day before retirement.

Dani liked the woman, but having only known her for two weeks, she stayed out of the way, giving the time to the other employees. Instead, she remained by the high-rise office window, staring out over the late-Friday afternoon mayhem of the city down below. Twenty floors up, the people on the streets looked tiny and the sky close enough to touch.

The sad part was that the sky was white. She hadn’t seen a blue sky in two weeks.

“Dani,” Bette said from the door. “It’s been a pleasure. Keep up the excellent work.”

Casual laughter followed her as she and the others made their way down the hall, leaving Dani alone in the break room. The cake that had been purchased for the party remained in the middle of the table, and a tub of ice cream sat melting beside it.

She moved to put the ice cream away, and found herself cleaning up the kitchen. It had become her daily routine, to tidy the small area before going home.

“Thanks for starting the cleanup.” Kendra returned to the room with a handful of used paper plates. “Bette just left, as did most everyone else.”

The majority of her colleagues had better things to do on a Friday evening than stay late at the office. Dani had been privy to the conversations. A final night out with husbands and kids before the start of school next week, a hot date with the new guy two floors down. A couple of people were even heading out of town for one last end-of-summer weekend at the beach.

Dani would be working. She’d done a good job so far, but as the newbie, her nerves remained on edge. She wanted to ensure she got noticed.

“Did you want the rest of the cake?” Dani asked as she closed the lid to the box.

“Oh, no.” Kendra looked at her watch. “You take it home with you. I have a train to catch to my boyfriend’s place as soon as I leave here. We’re visiting his parents in Hartford for the weekend.”

Kendra grabbed a rag to wipe down the table, but Dani took it away from her. “You go on,” she said. “You have a long drive. I’ll finish up here.”

“I couldn’t . . .”

But Dani saw the desire to do just that in Kendra’s eyes.

She motioned to the door. “Go. I’ve got this. I’ll be here for a couple more hours, anyway. I want to get started on the Eaton project.”

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Positive.” Dani nudged the woman toward the door. “Enjoy your weekend.”

Kendra’s face lit, and she gave a quick nod. “Thanks, Dani. You’re the best.”

Left alone in the room, Dani finished cleaning the space, cut a piece of cake to take home to her roommate, and wrapped the remainder in plastic wrap before putting it in the freezer. One of the women with kids might want to take it home next week, so she’d leave it for them.

Then she switched off the lights and returned to her desk.

Thirty minutes later, the building had grown silent and Dani sat alone at her desk. Which was nice—being alone. That was something she’d gotten little of since moving to New York.

She had a roommate, there were after-hours drinks and meetings, and the city was constantly full of people—everywhere. There was so much going on all the time that she had yet to find a spot to sit and think without at least a hundred people already there, all sitting and thinking. It was exhausting.

And it made her miss home.

And Ben.

She thought about the night of the party again. And the morning after.

The last thing she’d meant to do was hurt Ben, but when he’d started talking about love and coming out here, she’d panicked. She’d been holding on to the moment when she could get away from her life. Escape the pressure of having the memories of her mother in her head day in and day out, and turn her back on the strain of every member of her family watching her to make sure she was okay.

She was fine. She would remain fine, that’s what she did. But she’d needed to get away.

And Ben’s suggestion to come with her? Something like that had never once entered her mind. It had scared her.

Do you not love me?

She pictured the pain in his features when he’d asked the question. She hated herself for causing that pain.

But how could she love him? She’d told him the truth. She didn’t love herself. She didn’t know what a normal relationship was. She was a mess, and neither he nor Haley deserved that in their lives.

She’d said no for his own benefit.

“Love the work for the Falcon brand, Dani.”

She looked up from her desk to find her boss standing in her doorway. “Thanks, Bill. It’s a great company to work with.”

“They’re already talking about signing a longer contract. Because of you.”

The words encouraged her. She’d thought she’d been impressing, but unwanted worries continued to creep in at all hours of the day. Those worries often came with her mother’s voice, and had managed to layer in way more self-doubt than Dani was comfortable with.

“Keep it up,” Bill added. “You’re very good. I can see you going places with us.” Her mother’s voice disagreed with him. “I’m glad we talked you into coming on board.”

Dani nodded at the praise, and after wishing her a good weekend, Bill departed.

She picked up her phone, her fingers automatically scrolling through her contacts, before realizing what she was doing. She was about to call Ben.

She’d had the desire to share all kinds of things with him over the past two weeks, and as she’d done every day, she found his number and spent several minutes staring at it. She wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice. To tell him about her day.

She wanted to ask how Haley was doing.

School would be starting soon. Was she continuing to adjust well?

There were so many things Dani wondered about, but she didn’t have the right to ask. She didn’t even have the right to call. No matter how much she simply
needed
to talk to him.

He’d declared his love, and she’d walked away. There was no recovery from that.

Changing gears, she pulled up Jay’s number and sent him a text. She might be out of her brothers’ daily lives, but the physical distance now between them had brought them closer than ever before. She’d talked to each of them at least once a week since she’d arrived in New York—even reclusive Nate—and Gabe and Jay more than that.

Her phone buzzed in reply. Jay was good. He and Megan were in Seattle, and had signed a lease on an apartment today. He would begin looking for a part-time job, starting tomorrow.

Dani smiled fondly at the message. Her baby brother was growing up.

Putting her phone down, she returned to the work open on her computer, and spent the next two hours prepping for the coming week. As she finally finished for the day, her phone rang.

It was Gabe.

“Hey, moron,” she answered in her customary way. The distance between Gabe and her had disappeared. They talked again. Shared things. And she was pretty sure he missed her.

“Hey, dumbass. How’s New York?”

“Noisy.” She rose and went to the window, and Gabe chuckled in her ear.

“A bit different than home, huh?”

“Some.” Surprisingly, she’d found that, though she did enjoy the city, the energy, the people . . . it wasn’t quite what she’d built up in her mind. “You about to head out?” she asked.

Gabe and Michelle were moving to California that weekend.

“Just finished packing up. But that’s not why I called. I wanted to talk to you about something before I left.”

“What’s that?”

She squinted as she stared down at the street, trying to make out whether the grilled cheese vendor remained on the corner or not. She would love a grilled cheese sandwich before going home.

“Dad,” Gabe said in her ear. “He and Gloria would like to move into the house, and I’m in agreement. I’d prefer it didn’t sit empty.”

Dani had also talked to her dad since being in New York. Once. It had been a polite conversation. They were trying. “Sure,” she said now. “Someone should be there.”

“If it bothers you, then say so.”

“It’s his house, Gabe. He can live there if he wants.”

“It’s everyone’s house.”

Which, technically, was true. Her dad had deeded the house to all six kids when he’d retired and moved out. The house and the business belonged to them.

“Gloria might change it up,” Gabe hedged.

Nick’s words telling her that the house was a shrine to their mother came to mind. “Tell her to have at it.” That was exactly what needed to be done.

They talked for several more minutes. About Birch Bay, New York, California, and his family. Jenna was doing good. Michelle was being Michelle.

Gabe didn’t bring up Ben and Haley, and she didn’t ask.

“Jenna misses you,” he told her.

“I miss her too.” She crossed the room and shut down her computer. “Can’t wait for you to bring her out for Christmas.”

“Can’t wait to bring her out there. Christmas in New York? Sounds like a dream. Michelle will love it. And by the way . . .” His tone changed, and Dani said up straight, wondering what was coming. “Thank you for all you did over the years. Did I ever really say that? We should have done more. Hell, we should have done
something
.”

She started to give him a hard time, but instead, took the compliment the way it was intended. With sincerity. “Thank you,” she said. “And you’re welcome. It was truly my greatest pleasure to be there for everyone. Even if . . .” She didn’t finish.

“Even if we went about some things wrong,” he added.

She nodded, feeling suddenly melancholy and missing her family even more.

“I’m glad you were here,” Gabe told her. “We love you, sis. And we’re proud of you.
All
of us.”

Meaning their dad, too.

“I love you too,” she added. “
All
of you.”

They hung up and she pulled her purse from the drawer, intending to go, and her gaze landed on the small notebook tucked underneath. It was the journal she’d pulled from the old desk in her bedroom back home. She’d brought it to New York with her, but she had yet to open it.

She did, however, retrieve it from the drawer daily . . . and stare at it.

Then she’d put it away without cracking the cover.

She pulled it out now, and placed it on the desk in front of her. Her phone buzzed and her heart leapt at the hope that it was Ben. She really had to stop doing that. Ben would not be calling her, texting her, or caring about her ever again.

It was another text from Jay.

Just talked to Gabe. He forgot to ask. You scheduled that appointment yet?

They’d been checking on her regularly. Was she seeing a therapist yet? Did they need to make an appointment for her? Jay had even gotten recommendations from past professors who knew people in New York and emailed the names and phone numbers to her.

Her brothers were truly worried about her. Which made her feel . . . odd.

Special, yes. They loved and cared about her. Just as she did them.

But all the attention directed her way added additional stress she wasn’t used to. She was supposed to be the one who took care of them.

Not yet.
She really didn’t know what she was waiting for.

Dad’s been twice already.

She ran the edge of her thumb over the spine of the journal before typing a reply.
He’s okay with it?

Seems to be. He’s putting in the effort, sis. Now you.

She drew in a breath.
I will. I just needed to settle in first. New job, and all. I’ve been busy.

You’re avoiding. You’re scared. Stop it. Want me to make the appointment for you?

If she’d needed another reminder of how their positions had reversed, this was it. Her baby brother was now taking care of her. Or trying to. That meant something to her.

That meant it was time to get her butt into gear and face the past.

She flipped open the journal to the first page.

I hate my mother.

The words were as real to her today as the day she’d written them in her early teens. As well as the guilt for her feelings. A daughter wasn’t supposed to hate her mother.

Nor was a mother supposed to hate her daughter.

If her own mother couldn’t love her, how could anyone else?

She pulled the paper that contained the numbers Jay had sent her out of her purse, and drew a circle around the one she’d researched and decided she liked the best. Then she sent one more text to Jay.

I’ll call and leave a message right now.