Left to Chance by Amy Sue Nathan

Author:Amy Sue Nathan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

Chapter 12

I LOVED HAVING A car.

Me: I’m here.

Shay: Want to show you something. Back door open.

I stepped over the moss-grown cracks in the slate path that led around the house and toward the deck. Purple clematis climbed a wooden trellis we’d hung on the house before Shay was born, the new plantings offering hope, but a long-range plan that had not turned out as beautifully as the flowers.

I turned and stood in front of the trellis. I’d left my camera at Nettie’s but I could come back when the light would land on the flowers and make them sparkle without Photoshop. Maybe flowers that Celia and I had planted would be the right photo for the contest that I hadn’t yet decided if I’d enter. I watched my feet as I walked. Pro, con, pro, con, pro, con. I wasn’t sure why it mattered. I shook my shoulders and waggled my arms to reset my thoughts.

Then, I saw a worn brown leather duffel bag to the side of the back door—Beck’s duffel bag, the one he’d carried in and out of my apartment after dark and before dawn dozens of times. Where was his car?

I shoved my hands into my pockets and palmed my stone. I looked around the backyard as if I were a detective, looking for any unusual movement in the bushes or unlikely shadows on the ground. Nothing besides a squirrel kept me company, and even he hopped along the top of the fence and out of view. I hoped I’d maintain my balance so easily, if need be.

I stood outside the duffel bag’s force field. Clouds provided a shield from direct southern sun, so I saw inside the house without squinting. Shay’s back was to the door and she stood at the kitchen counter with Beck. She nodded and Beck stretched out his arm behind her and drew her in with a squeeze and kept her close. He nodded. Maybe they were talking about the wedding, or Celia, or me. Maybe she was trying to wrangle him out of a few shopping dollars. Then Beck kissed the top of Shay’s head.

I stepped back, almost onto the duffel, my fist releasing my stone, my heart pounding. I picked up the stone and shoved it back into place and breathed. The guy who hugged and nodded and pulled his niece in close—that was the Beck I knew. That was the Beck I missed. The Beck I’d forgotten about on purpose.

I turned and tiptoe-ran across the path, stepping on any moss or plants in my way. I needed to get around to the front of the house. I was panting but moving in slow motion, the small Cape Cod somehow reminding me of the new, sprawling Hester property in Scottsdale.

Made it.

I lifted my hand, kept it far from the doorknob, and knocked.

Shay opened the door right away. “Why are you all sweaty? And why didn’t you come in the back?”

“I’m just anxious to go, sweetie.”

“I want to show you my collage.

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