This Much Is True (50 page)

Linc shakes his head and half-smiles. I watch him breathe out slowly, but he still won’t look at me. I can only imagine what’s racing through his mind about Rob and Nika and us. I’m determined to resolve this issue once and for all.

“Getting your money back was the right thing to do. It has nothing to do with anything else,
with us
. You know it’s never been about the money for me, right? I mean Tremblay left me a hundred thousand in cash; and I did my part in augmenting the crime victims’ fund in Moscow, too, Elvis; but you were worth every penny.” This incredulous look crosses his face when he finally looks over at me, and I smile.

“What?” he asks.

I never told anyone about the hundred grand in cash handed over to ensure Linc’s freedom. Only Rob and my lawyer knew about that. It was my one and only condition for giving my statement to the Moscow Police. Clearing Linc was my one and only reason for returning to Moscow.

“You didn’t really think they were going to let you walk out of there without a little extortion money thrown their way for freeing a famous American baseball player, did you?”

“Kimberley never told me,” he says slowly.

“Kimberley doesn’t know about it.” I frown. “Tremblay left it for me as some sort of conciliatory payment for Cara after she took her away from me intent on never letting me see her again. I never would have spent the money, but the bartender there—Sam—Allaire’s ex-boyfriend? Sam told me I might need it in Moscow, for you; and I most certainly did. Like I said, you were worth every penny. I know Cara would agree. We’ll have to save up for her education for Stanford another way, but we’ve got time. I think we’ll figure it out.” I smile at him and he finally returns it. “I mean, you know I’m not with you because you’re a famous baseball player, right? I’m with you because…you’re
it
for me. You always have been,” I say this with extraordinary benevolence, and now I know I’ve blown him away.

He glances at the freeway traffic and then back at me. “Just like I’m not with you because you’re now a famous ballerina,” he says with a little smile and shakes his head side-to-side. “Why do you come up with the most amazing love stuff, when I’m on the freeway, driving an unfamiliar car with our daughter secured in the backseat, on our way to see your parents and just about everyone else we know? Why can’t you say this stuff when we’re alone, and I can
do
something about it?”

“It’s not about the great S-E-X, either, Elvis, although there will be a follow-up on that particular aspect of our reunion, later. How
late
is everyone staying?” I ask sweetly.

He smirks as he covertly glances into the rearview mirror at Cara.

“She’s out. She’s sleeping. You can
say
the word. Come on,
say
it for me. You’ve got to give me something to hang onto for
later
.”

“It’s easier to spell it. It keeps it superficial and keeps my heart rate from soaring out-of-control even more than it already is.”

“Your heart rate is soaring out-of-control?”

“Pretty much. You just asked me to marry you less than a half-hour ago. My pulse is pretty much racing out-of-control from that alone. To say nothing of the fact that we’re in a car, on the 101, making our way toward our new home, and the family and friends who pretty much symbolize the beginning of our new life together as a couple and a family of three. Yeah, it’s perfect; everything is, but it’s a lot to take in.”

“Still afraid of falling, failing, and losing, I see,” he says.

I’m no longer afraid of falling…in love with you.” I smile at my cleverness. “I’m no longer afraid of failing at ballet or as a mother or even a wife because I actually think I’m pretty good at the first two of those things, and the third one is all I’ve ever wanted to be.” He looks at me intently then. “But losing? That one is still a cross I bear. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose Cara or anyone else I really love.”

He grabs my hand and presses it to his lips. “Tally,” he says. “It’s all working out. We’re here. We love each other. This day. Tomorrow. The next day. Six months from now. A year from now. Ten years from now. I’m here. You’re here. Cara’s here. Together. This is it, baby.” He grimaces. “Sorry, I know you hate to be called that.”

“Not today. I’ll tell you what,” I say with a little laugh. “You can call me baby all night long, and I promise to let you know by tomorrow morning how I feel about it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

* * *

We’ve made good time despite the afternoon traffic, and I soon spot the freeway sign for AT&T Park where the Giants play. “So…are you glad you came to play for the Giants? Is that what you wanted?”

He looks over at me intently. “I hedged a bet. I’m glad I’m here because this is where I wanted to play, always have, but that’s not why I came back.”

He doesn’t say anything more, and I’m left to wonder what he means, but I’m not completely sure I want to ask just yet.

Still, a few minutes later I try again. “The contract is good. I mean,
eventually
, the contract will be good, from what Marla said…” My voice trails off at his dubious look.

He taps the cashier’s check lying across the seat between us. “It’s not about the money. It never has been.”

“So what did you bet on?”

He takes his time in answering, apparently realizing the importance I must be placing on what he’s going to say. I wait, and hold my breath—two, all but impossible, endeavors for me.

“I had to believe—even when it was hopeless, even when it seemed all but impossible and when my world was at its darkest, and I’d begun to fear it might be permanent—that you would come home, Tally. That something or someone would compel you to take a chance and come home. Your parents believed that. Your friends, especially Marla, believed that. All of them told me the same thing: “Hang in there and just wait.” So I took a gamble—took the lesser contract offered with the Giants in a mid-season trade and fulfilled my own personal need for returning home—and I blindly hung all of my remaining hopes on you and the remote possibility that someday you, too, would want to come home. To me. And, Tally, the person who believed in that singular hope and lone wish the most—the one that encouraged me when everyone else began to believe it was hopeless—was your mom. She’s amazing, bar none. The only two people happier than me that you’re actually here are your mom and Marla. Well, there’s your dad, Tommy, Charlie, Aunt Gina, Uncle Chad, Sasha, Michael, and even my dad, who’s moving back, by the way, simply because you and Cara are going to be
here
with me. Okay, it’s true: Everyone is ecstatic that you’re here, that you’re
both
here. But no one is more elated than I am, actually.”

He takes an unsteady breath and dips his head seemingly uncertainat all he’s just revealed. He gets this shy smile, as if he can’t quite believe what all he’s said and what’s actually happening here. Like me, fifteen minutes before.

“But…here you are.
You. Cara
.” He smiles wide. “And your advice about my leaning too far back in my pitching stance was spot-on. My fastball is back to form; thanks to you, Tally Landon.” He dips his head again and rewards me with this little smile of gratitude that could melt snow.

“Are there
any
secrets left? Did Marla tell you
everything
I said?”

“Pretty much. And that’s when I was actually able to breathe again—knowing you were coming home. Finally.”

A car horn sounds right behind us, breaking up yet another poignant moment. He sighs, looks up at the slowing-moving traffic and begins to merge over to the far-right lane taking the exit that will lead us to Alamo Square and home. At the first stoplight, he fully turns to me.

“You make my life, Tally Landon. Over the past year, I’ve come to realize that my life has actually never been about
baseball
, but baseball was just all there ever was for me—to count on or to believe in—
before you
.” He gets this dazed smile. “It turns out that my real chance in life at true happiness—the risk I had to be willing to take in overcoming all of my other fears in terms of falling, failing and losing—has always been about
you
. Finding you? Saving you?” He shakes his head side-to-side. “Nah…It’s always just been about
being with you
. That’s all I ever wanted.”

The light changes from red to green. He slowly drives the SUV through the side streets; while I sit in stunned silence because I’m so moved by what all he’s just said that I can’t even properly respond. Instead, I let the tears fall. I need them to, and I allow him to see them. He glances my way, more and more, getting concerned at seeing me cry. About all I’m capable of doing is gripping his hand in mine and kissing it every so often.

“You okay, Tal?” he finally asks.

“If I say it back now, it will just look like I’m copying you,” I manage to say.

“What? Are you still in
high school
?” he asks, bringing just enough levity to the moment that I actually laugh.

“Not anymore.” I swipe at my face and look at him intently. “It’s always been
you
.” He smiles wide in answer and slowly nods.

In a daze, wrung out from pure emotion, at this point, I stare out the window out as the neighborhood gets more familiar.

It’s truly amazing how profoundly I feel this calling of home, but mostly of Lincoln Presley.

He’s always been there for me. Always.

I sigh deeply and attempt to pull it together, but nothing seems to work. I have to touch him. I have to hold his face between my hands and kiss him.

“Elvis,” I say softly. “Pull over.”

He gets this knowing smile as he edges the SUV into a no-parking zone, puts the car in park, and then just looks over at me with all this barely-contained longing. He’s clearly in need of what’s going to happen next as much as I am.

I hastily glance at the still sleeping Cara and then gaze back at him. “How is this going to work, exactly?” I ask softly.

In deference to what we both really want to do, I sigh, take his hand, and put it to my lips. He groans softly at my intimate kiss and future promise.

In the next, he fingers the charm bracelet on my wrist. I watch in wonder as he connects the two half-hearts together with the little clasp like he showed me how to do so long ago.

The gesture speaks volumes to both of us.

“Thank you, Elvis,” I say, while he visibly shudders.

With a laugh and what feels like the truest of intentions, I adroitly climb into the famous baseball player’s lap, hold his handsome face between my hands, and kiss him long and hard. And we share this imprint-worthy moment at a seemingly cosmic level because this much is true: Being together is all we ever wanted.

The End

With Gratitude

Acknowledgements

W
riting is something that I have been doing most of my life, but it has only been the last four years, that the timing has been just right to focus upon it full-time. I’ve been encouraged by so many: family, friends, colleagues, teachers, and readers, of course. Thank you, all!

To my family: I know I’m not easy to live with, and I know the house has been an undeclared disaster zone for the past year and a half while I wrote
This Much Is True
. This is a big
thank you
to all of you for allowing me to do what I love at the expense of serenity and home-cooked meals and all of you having to put up with no more than a quick, cryptic conversation when I’m in the throes of it all. Thank you for loving me anyway.
You do; don’t you?

Katherine Owen

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS

| SPOILERS AHEAD |

This Much Is True

Tell us about your writing process with
This Much Is True
. Where did the story come from?

My writing process is that of a pantser, which means that the story comes to me
organically
as I write it. I’ve tried outlines, storyboards, rough drafts, outlines (
again)
. However, in the end, as much as I fought the process that is what I am. It’s how it works for me. Yet, because I fought the process, this novel took twice as long to complete. You would think, since it was my fourth book, that it would have come easier, but
no
.

The inspiration for this novel came out of an exercise I did for one of my Fiction IV writing classes with
The Writers Studio
about two years ago. That led to the development of the story of Tally (originally she was called Amy), but it evolved to Tally in the later drafts. Lincoln Presley was pretty much set from early on. He was easy to write. He’s another accomplished amazing soul with a tragic loss in his past that makes him sympathetic and cosmically connected to the young Tally from the very beginning of the story. Linc is committed to doing the right thing for his father and for his talent, although he is conflicted about it much of the story line. I liked writing about that. It was equally fun to learn so much about baseball and rekindle my love for ballet.

Why baseball? Why ballet?

I needed a sport that kept them apart much of the time and baseball has these really long seasons. I wanted to illustrate the dedication and sacrifice that comes with being a professional baseball player just as much as a professional dancer. Lastly, I grew up doing ballet from the age of twelve on and made it to toes shoes. Ballet has always fascinated me. Thus, a love story about a ballerina seemed in order.

This Much Is True
handles some pretty heavy subject manner. How did you get into the mindset to handle writing about such controversial stuff? (SPOILER)

I was inspired to write a novel where fate and circumstances keep two people apart and the innocent telling of lies by one of them leads to an eventual unraveling of the relationship and virtually keeps them apart. I eventually wrote
This Much Is True
keeping these themes in mind.

Additionally, I think many young women wrestle with the decision of birth control or face decisions related to an unexpected pregnancy. I wrestled with the idea of what Tally should do with this baby. The old Tally would have had an abortion. The new Tally (
changing
) isn’t so sure of her decisions. I hope I made it clear in the story that Tally was so affected by her sister’s death that she couldn’t bring herself to have one, and yet she gives the baby up, which also leads to personal conflict for her and becomes a tough choice.

I wanted to explore the idea of consequences for the decisions we make and what happens to us in (real) life. In this story, Tally naively believes that she’ll be able to move on without looking back, but the change in Tally herself over time shows this not to be true. And then there’s Moscow. I debated about this part of the story line for a long time, but it kept coming back to me—the price and consequences of fame (a stalker, unintended violence) so I went there and I think it paid off.

So, these were some of the themes I hope I effectively covered with this story. It’s a subtle, slower-moving novel. The twists and turns with the plot lines build a little slower with this one in comparison to my other books. I wanted to grow as a writer and literally slow down and take my time in presenting the story, and the character arcs that take place. Love and loss remain ever-present themes, but I hope I conveyed it in a different way this time with this novel.
Discuss.

There’s a new sub-category out there in the book world called New Adult Fiction. Would you classify
This Much Is True
in that category?

I think
This Much Is True
can play in this arena, but if you’re looking for the bad boy with numerous tattoos and lots of racy sex scenes, you’ll be disappointed. This story is about two people who find each other, lose each other, and must slowly make their way back to one another. The character arcs for both Tally and Linc are slow in, well, arcing, but they’re there. I’m happy with how the story turned out, but this isn’t your predictable read. New Adult Fiction centers on characters that are coming of age when they first leave home and experience their first loves. I think
This Much Is True
fits that criteria, but this is a deeper story than most of what I’ve read in the category. Additionally, there are no vampires, no shape shifters, no bad boys, no tattoos;
This Much Is True
is just a story about love, and loss, and starting over, and how fate intervenes.
You know
my usual stuff.

It’s a long novel. Did you contemplate two books?

Yes! I did contemplate breaking the story up. I thought about cutting parts of it out, but in the end, I decided to go with it as is. So, yes, it’s long. And
yes, it c
ould have been two or three books. Lots of authors, these days, do just that. However, I’m not a series gal, and I’m not fond of cliff-hangers. As a reader, I think we lose some of the original enthusiasm for the story line when we have to wait for the full story. Thus, you get Tally and Linc’s complete story in one long novel from both of their point-of-views. (Bonus!)
Discuss.

There are also a few love triangles to this one. What did you do to make those complicated chemistry/interactions work?

I truly enjoyed the character of Rob Thorn. He was another early inspiration for me. I could just
see
him. Here’s this guy, who is torn up about losing the love of his life in Holly Landon, and yet he has a thing for Tally Landon. (It is the subtext for much of the story, but it’s there. It seems to be the elusive bad twin attraction.) Tally’s conflicted over Rob because she both fights and succumbs to being-acting-pretending to be her twin sister Holly some of the time. I didn’t want to do the cliché
pick one
Team Rob or Team Linc’s scenario. I think it’s pretty clear that Tally and Linc belong together, but Rob Thorn adds an interesting element for these two as does Nika Vostrikova. Nika was fun to write. She’s the typical insecure girlfriend who does everything in her power to keep her life with Linc and the guy himself in check. She’s a minor character but she likes to mess with our heroine, Tally Landon, whenever she gets a chance. I enjoyed writing her as well as Kimberley Powers (again, for those familiar with this character).

Is there one trait you share with Tally?

Tally is independent and has a passionate dedication to ballet. When I was her age so did I. Thus, we get a story about a ballerina. And most everyone would agree I am highly independent.
Highly.

When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

As the cliché goes, I have wanted to be a writer for most of my life. I won a poetry contest at the age of fourteen, majored in English and Editorial Journalism in college, and carried the desire and dream to write with me everywhere, until finally, I had the time and the freedom to write novels full-time.

What was your ultimate goal with this novel? (SPOILER)

Truly? I tried to avoid killing anyone off. I got some heat for that in a few of my other novels. I wanted to show loss in a different way with this story line. (Hint: Charlie was saved. I had a whole other story line about him that was really good, but life prevailed (
ha!
) for all four of them. (Six if we’re counting Nika & Rob, and we should, really; right?))
Still.
A few people had to go in this novel too, but if you’ve read my other novels, you know how that works. You might not cry as much with this one.
Thus, goal achieved? Let me know.

What’s up next?

I’m busy finishing my fifth novel
Saving Valentines
and another Work-in-progress that I’m dying to get to.
Busy. Busy. Busy writing. It never ends.

What else can you share?

As a novelist, (a fictionista as one Twitter follower phrased it) as a writer of contemporary fiction, I tend to write stories that are both edgy and dark—about trust, love, and fate—and how relationships are often tested by all of these things in one way or another.

My novels are often described as emotional roller coasters. If you’re in search of the easy-read romance novel, just know that my novels are not those and will leave you reeling half the time. More than one reader has stipulated their own warning about being in need a box of Kleenex tissues when they read my work. I think my heroines and heroes represent today’s contemporary women and men and their daily life struggles with love and the pursuit of true happiness. I really do believe that relationships are tested in all kinds of ways by love, trust, and fate, and this continues to inspire my writing.