He loved Rita. So he had to let her go.
Dinner service wound down gradually, customers filing out the front door with surprised smiles in his direction. Waving, telling him they抎 be back tomorrow. Nearly every table in the place was empty, save the one tucked in the corner. Jasper did a double take when Rosemary stepped out of the hidden nook梙er hand tucked into the crook of his grandfather抯 arm. A tinny ring began in his ears, the sides of his throat feeling tight, as his grandfather approached, eyes that Jasper shared scanning the room with something akin to approval. But that couldn抰 be right.
Finally, the older man抯 gaze landed on him. 揓asper,?he said, holding out his hand to shake his grandson抯。 揥ell done.?
For so long this moment had been what drove Jasper. Repaying the man he抎 let down. Now that he抎 reached that moment in time, there was definite relief. A rushing landslide of it down his back. There was appreciation, too, for having gained back the respect he抎 lost. But when he searched that same landslide for happiness, it eluded him. Just then, he was positive it always would.
揟hank you,?Jasper said to his grandfather, leaning over to kiss Rosemary抯 cheek. 揊or everything.?
After watching the people who抎 raised him walk out the door梩he final remaining customers桱asper turned to find Rita watching him from the waitress station, one hip propped against the counter. Sadness lurked in her eyes, but there was pride there as well. In him. In Buried Treasure. The apron she wore was covered in splashes of sauce, a dash having made it up to her cheek, flipping his insides around like a pancake. Without thinking, he went to Rita, used his thumb to wipe away the sauce.
揅ongratulations,?she whispered, watching his hand move away. 揥e had nothing sent back to the kitchen except for compliments. Sage said you抮e booked solid for the next three weeks.?She reached out as if to lay a hand on his arm but let it drop, her tongue wetting her lips in what looked like a nervous gesture. 揑抦 so glad you created this place. It抯 going to be a town landmark, and it抯 due to your hard work.?
Lord, Jasper wanted to shake her. Her words were genuine, but they weren抰 coming at the right time. They were unwelcome when good-bye was so close on the horizon. 揑 appreciate that. Everything your family did tonight.?A cannonball materialized in his stomach, dragging him down, down. He didn抰 want anyone there to witness when he hit bottom. Especially her. 揃ut this is where I let you go, Rita. I need you to go. I can抰 look at you anymore without making a fool out of myself.?
Rita closed her eyes, opening them to reveal twin pools of tears. 揑抦 so sorry.?Her hands trembled as she peeled off the soiled apron and laid it on the waitress station. 揑 never expected you. Or them. Or any of this.?She swiped beneath her eyes. 揕eaving at night feels wrong, doesn抰 it? But I don抰 think I抣l be able to resist one more day if we wait until the sun comes up.?
It was like releasing a gorgeous, majestic creature back into the wild. Except she was a woman he damn well believed was born to be his second half. And she wouldn抰 go. The longer she stood there, the more hurt she heaped on him. So he leaned in close, careful not to let their bodies make contact, and he kissed her forehead. 揌ey. Maybe I抣l wake up tomorrow and find you on the side of the road again. My own version of Groundhog Day. Maybe I抣l get a second chance to do it all over again.?
Her breath puffed out against his neck. 揋ood-bye, Jasper.?
The last sound he remembered hearing was the screen door smacking, signaling that she抎 gone. That was when the thunder began to roll in his ears, muting the world around him as he stumbled across the restaurant. He pulled out the chair Rita had sat in the first night he抎 shown her Buried Treasure. The night she抎 named the place. He sat, buried his face in his arms on the table. And he didn抰 move.
Chapter Thirty-Five
It took only twenty minutes for everyone to clear their belongings out of the motel and climb into the Suburban. Something about that felt very wrong to Rita. Surely twenty minutes was insufficient for erasing any evidence of their stay in Hurley. Wasn抰 it? On impulse, she抎 left a T-shirt in one of the motel-room closets, closing the door on it while a tiny intruder played Whac-A-Mole in her stomach. Now they all sat in silence in the Hurley Arms parking lot waiting for Belmont, who had disappeared without telling anyone where he was going. Although, since that was typical behavior for their older brother, no one commented, even if Sage appeared anxious, her head on a swivel as she waited for his return. Aaron scanned e-mails in his cell phone梙umming 揜aspberry Beret敆while Peggy clinked together the engagement rings around her neck.
All so normal. Fuck. Why was everyone acting so normal? Air was being siphoned from Rita抯 lungs, her skin itching, the interior of the car growing smaller and smaller. With a curse, she pushed open the back door, allowing the warm desert wind to roll into the Suburban. It slithered in under the sleeves of her shirt, climbed up her neck and held, held so tight. As if Jasper had taken the form of invisible wind, deciding to reach out for her one final time. His face, his words, the failure evident in both clawed at her consciousness. No, not a failure. You won me. I just have to leave anyway.
The reasons were all around her, taking up the seats, joining her on this insane journey, but something besides Jasper was missing. Realizing what it was, Rita reached into her slouchy canvas bag and removed Miriam抯 journal, flipping to an entry toward the front, placing it in her lap and pushing two handfuls of hair back over her shoulders as she began to read.
My family isn抰 one for noisy emotion. My children were meant to?
Belmont opened the driver抯-side door, starting up the Suburban without a word regarding where he抎 been. While they released a collective sigh of relief, Belmont reversed the Suburban from its parking spot, the rumble feeling like an earthquake beneath Rita抯 feet. A seismic shift. As they pulled out onto the main road, a rope that had been tied around her chest without permission began to pull and pull. As if it were tied to the motel and the farther away they drove, the more it threatened to slice her in half. The urge to turn around to glimpse the Liquor Hole梟o, Buried Treasure梬as vast and unrelenting, but some irrational voice said everything would turn to dust if she followed through, like Sodom and Gomorrah. Or maybe it would just be her? She would turn to dust and float away, just a tiny speck that couldn抰 possibly fit all the feelings.
Jasper. Jasper. What was he doing? Had he left Buried Treasure yet? Would he go home and sit down on the swing where they抎 made love? Or maybe have a cup of coffee while leaning up against the kitchen island, casually looking over that night抯 numbers? It took precious little concentration to envision herself perched on the island beside him, wearing his flannel shirt, stealing a sip of his coffee.
Oh, Christ. Ouch. Pain speared through her rib cage, hot bread rolls pressing behind her eyelids. Remembering the distraction in her lap, Rita ducked her head to begin reading once again, trying with all her might not to look out the window and watch the town repair garage pass. The place Jasper had appeared the second morning on his motorcycle, hoping she抎 consent to lunch with Rosemary. Feigning surprise over the Suburban抯 lack of function when he抎 damn well been the reason. God. God, who did something so sneaky just to get one more day with a woman? Jasper did. Her Jasper.
Swiping at the moisture on her cheeks, Rita focused on the open page flapping in the breeze provided by the open window. Focused on the concise nature of her mother抯 handwriting, attempting to find solace.