Authors: Norah McClintock
So to say I was surprised to see a gun sitting in Ted's glove compartment would be an understatement.
At first I was stunned.
Then I was baffled.
It must be a fake
, I thought.
It had to be. Ted wasn't the kind of man who would own a gun. He certainly wasn't the kind of man who, if he ever did own one, would keep it in the glove compartment of his car. It wasn't legal to transport a gun that way, even if you had a permit. So it
had
to be a fake. Didn't it?
I would like to say that I obeyed my mom. I can say that I never got curious enoughâor stupid enoughâto attempt to handle my dad's gun on my own. But he let me hold it a couple of times, with no ammunition in it, just to feel it. And he let me shoot itâjust once, on a firing range, after taking the proper precautions. I discovered a couple things. One: the gun was way heavier than I'd expected. And two: when I squeezed the trigger the way my dad had shown me and the gun went off, my whole body jumped with the force of it. Just like that, I knew that shooting and getting shot wasn't anything like they showed it on most TV shows. You didn't just grit your teeth and carry on. Not even close.
I reached into the glove compartment and touched the gun. It was cold, like death.
I picked it up.
It was heavy, just like the gun my dad had let me fire.
It was real.
I looked through the windshield and saw Ted turning around. He wasn't holding his phone to his ear anymore. He was walking toward the car.
I slammed the glove compartment shut.
Ted got into the car and hooked his phone up to a charger mounted on the dashboard.
I sneezed.
“Bless you,” Ted said. He glanced at the glove compartment. “I wish I could offer a tissue, but I'm all out.”
“No problem,” I said.
I should have told my mother about the gun. I came close to it a couple of timesâonce that night over supper and again the next morning while she was getting ready to go to work. But both times I ended up keeping my mouth shut. I knew that my mom liked Ted a lot. I knew that she was thinking about marrying him. And I knew that if I told her I had found a gun in his glove compartment, it would make things between her and Ted super tense at a time when Ted was already stressed. I decided to tell my dad instead, as soon as he got back from Switzerland. He would be calm about it. He would have a talk with Ted. He would find a way to make him get rid of the gun. And, if Ted was lucky, he wouldn't get into any trouble on account of it. Looking back, I shouldn't have waited. I should have told my mother. If I had, things might have turned out differently.
. . .
Ted dropped me at Morgan's house, but Morgan didn't want to stay at home while the malls were still open and the January sales hadn't yet ended for another year. So we went shopping. Several hours later, we dropped our bags (four large ones for Morgan, one small one for me) in a booth at our favorite coffee place and reviewed our purchasesâactually, Morgan gloated over hers one by one.
“Is this a bargain or what?” she said, holding up a soft pink sweater that she had scored at seventy-five percent off. “It's perfect for a cottage vacation in March, don't you think?” She grinned. I stared at her.
“I haven't said yes yet.”
Morgan groaned. “Come on, Robyn. Tell Ben we'll go. Please. He described the place to me. It sounds amazing. It has seven bedrooms, Robyn.
Seven
. And a hot tub. You are so lucky to have a boyfriend like Ben. Rich
and
generous. We'll have a great time.
Please?
” She made puppy eyes at me.
“I don't know,” I said.
“You don't have to be head-over-heels in love with him, Robyn. I'm not asking you to make a lifelong commitment. But think what a great time we could have. I've seen some of those places from the waterâthey're spectacular. Wouldn't you like to know what they're like inside? Even Billy is excitedâapparently there's a conservation area nearby where you can see horned owls.” She shook her head as if she couldn't imagine why that was such a big deal. “Everyone wants to go.”
Everyone, it seemed, except me.
It was hot in the coffee shop. I peeled off the sweatshirt I was wearing over a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Morgan frowned. “Hey, what's that?”
“What's what?”
She reached across the table, grabbed the two hearts dangling from the chain around my neckâI had forgotten I was wearing itâand pulled them toward her for a closer look.
“I guess being rich doesn't mean you have the best taste in jewelry,” she said.
“It's supposed to be the thought that counts,” I said. I tried to tug the chain away from her. Too late.
She had flipped the hearts over and was reading the inscription on the back. She shook her head and looked across the table at me like I was a hopeless case.
“I should have known,” she said. “Ben would have chosen something more elegant.
And
more expensive.”
“Well, I like it,” I said. I yanked the hearts out of her hand and tucked them back inside my shirt.
“If you like it so much, how come I've never seen it before?” Morgan said.
I avoided her eyes. I hadn't told her about Nick's giftâI hadn't told anyone except Ben, who had been there when I'd opened itâbecause I knew she would disapprove.
“Does Ben know you're wearing tacky jewelry that another guy gave you?” she said. “And why
are
you wearing it, anyway? I thought you'd given up on Nick. He abandoned you, Robyn.”
“He called me.”
“Nick?” She looked incredulous. “
Nick
called you?”
I nodded.
“And? Is he back? Where was he? Did he tell you why he took off?”
“It's complicated,” I said.
Morgan studied me for a moment. “He's not back, is he?” she said.
“I don't know.”
“What do you mean, you don't know? You just said he called.”
“He called from out west somewhere,” I said.
“What's he doing there?”
“I don't know.” I felt like screaming the words. I didn't know. I didn't know anything because no one had bothered to tell me. I explained that I had dropped the phone and accidentally deleted the message.
“What did he say?” she asked.
I repeated his words as well as I could remember. I told her that a noise had drowned out all but a few of them:
coming back
and
love
and
call
. Morgan shook her head.
“For all you know, Robyn, he could have been calling to tell you that he's not
coming back
even though he'd
love
to and that's why he decided to
call
.”
“Thanks a lot,” I said.
“Well, it's true. You said you could only make out a few words.”
I hated to admit it, but she was right.
“Has he called you since then?” she said.
“No.”
“Come on, Robyn. Get real. You don't know where he is. You don't know what he even
said.
And he hasn't called you back. Doesn't that tell you something?”
“It's only been two days,” I said. “He'll call. I know he will.”
“Maybe you should face facts,” Morgan said. “Nick took off without a wordâwhile you were out of town. He's been gone for nearly two months nowâ”
“It's only been six weeks.”
Morgan sighed. “You can't keep pining for him, Robyn. You have to move on. Besides, Ben is a better person for you. He's considerate. He's reliable. He's rich. That's the kind of guy you deserveâ” She broke off suddenly and looked over my shoulder. “Ben alert!” she hissed.
I turned and saw Ben and Billy coming through the door of the coffee shop. They were scanning the place, looking for us. I grabbed my sweatshirt and quickly pulled it on again.
“What are they doing here?” I said.
“Billy did a shift at the shelter this morning.” It was Billy who had talked me into volunteering there before Christmas. “I told him we'd probably stop off here after we finished shopping. Ben must have been there.”
They spotted us.
“Surprise!” Ben said as he dropped down beside me, forcing me to slide over in the booth to make room. “I still have that surprise for you,” he whispered before kissing me lightly on the cheek. “So, how were the shopping wars?”
“We got some great bargains,” Morgan said. “Didn't we, Robyn?”
“Yeah? Let's see,” Ben said.
Morgan beamed at him. She adored Billy, but Billy would never in a million years have asked to see her purchases. He had no interest in shopping. She handed a bag across the table to Ben. It slipped out of his hands. Something fell out of it and onto the floor. I automatically ducked down to retrieve it. When I straightened up, Ben was staring at me. At my neck, actually. So was Morgan. I glanced down. When I bent over, Nick's chain had slipped out from under my sweatshirt. I started to tuck it back in, but Ben caught it in his hand and turned it over. He stared at it for longer than it should have taken to read the inscription.
“Why are you wearing that?” he said.
I glanced at Morgan, who immediately shifted her eyes down to the tabletop. Billy looked confused. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again when Morgan elbowed him. I looked into Ben's angry eyes. Should I answer him truthfullyâ
I'm wearing it because I miss Nick?
Should I refuse to answerâafter all, was it even his business? Should I lie?
In the end, I said nothing.
“This is the necklace that guy sent you, isn't it?” he said. “The one you said I didn't have to worry about.”
“Ben, I'm sorry. I justâ” Just what? I glanced at Morgan again, but her face was blank. She liked Ben. She didn't want to get involved, especially if it meant hurting his feelings.
“I'm crazy about you,” Ben said. Morgan's eyes popped wider at that. “I've told you that.” Morgan was staring at me, no doubt wondering why I had kept
that
piece of information from her, too. “And you never said anything that led me to think that you felt differently.” He broke off and let go of the entwined hearts. “He's why you don't want to come up to the cottage, isn't he?”
“Ben, I'm sorry. I care about you. Really I do. It's just thatâ”
He waited, but I couldn't find the right words.
“Just that what?” he said finally, his voice soft despite the hurt look in his eyes.
“He called me. Nick called me.”
“Is he back?”
“No. At least, I don't think so. But hearing his voice...I need time to think, Ben.” I looked at the bruised expression on his face and wondered if Ted had looked like that when my mother said more or less the same words to him last fall. But I couldn't help it. I
did
need time. I
did
need to think.
Ben stood up slowly.
“You know how to get in touch with me,” he said. He bent and brushed his lips against my cheek. “I really do care about you, Robyn.”
Morgan sighed as she watched him go.
“He's so sweet,” she said. “I think you're making a big mistake, Robyn. Ben is the guy for you.”
I glanced at Billy, but all he did was shrugâhis way of telling me that it was up to me.
I wished I knew what to do.
I
t had been quiet all week. Nick hadn't called again. Part of me wanted to believe that maybe Morgan was right. Maybe I'd been reading the wrong message into the few words I'd been able to make out from his phone call. That was easier than thinking the alternative: that Nick had been waiting for me to call him. He'd sounded a little hurt that I hadn't already been in touch. But how could I have been? I'd searched his apartment and found no clue to his whereabouts. I had talked to his aunt. I'd tried to track down any friends who might know where he was. But if he had given me a phone number in his message, it had been drowned out with the rest of his words. If he didn't realize what had happened, he'd probably assume that I was mad at him or that I didn't care anymore. And if that happened, what were the chances that he would swallow his pride and call me one last time?
Ben didn't phone either, but he did send me a little ceramic pot of flowersâforget-me-nots. I couldn't help smiling when I unwrapped them. Maybe Morgan was right about him too. He was thoughtful and even-tempered. And extremely patient.
Ms. Denholm was all dimples and smiles at the front of the class. She looked more relaxed than she had in days. Maybe that was because Ted was spending a lot of time with her. He seemed determined to make her feel safe. He cooked supper for her one night. He took her to a foreign-film festival. She seemed to enjoy his attention. If she was still worried about Mikhail Mornov, she was hiding it well.
My father was still in Switzerland. I caught a news item on TV about the upcoming wedding of the famous drummer and the actress, and I was sure I saw my dad standing in the background.