"We leave together." Jennifer held her gaze until Beth nodded.
Ozzy staggered to his feet as Beth and Jennifer approached the front door, reaching out a hand and ensnaring Beth by the arm when they passed him. "Hey. I want to talk to you," he said in slow fragments. He smelled like beer and swayed on his feet, his eyes half closed and out of focus.
"Not now, Ozzy." Beth pushed at his hand, and it slid away. Her anxiety grew. A drunken Ozzy was one to avoid.
"You don't need to touch her to talk to her," Jennifer informed him, moving closer to Beth.
Lifting his head like it weighed a hundred pounds, Ozzy fought to keep Jennifer in his line of vision. "You." He pointed a finger at her. She slapped it down. "You stay out of it. This is between me, and Beth."
"Go home, Ozzy. You're drunk." Beth took the sleeve of Jennifer's brown jacket. "Ready?" she asked her friend, tightening her grip on the fabric like Jennifer was the kite that would take her away from the ground and Ozzy.
"Yeah. I'm ready. Pizza, followed by ten hours of sleep, is calling my name."
"Beth, don't walk away from me," Ozzy yelled after her, sounding broken. "Beth!"
"Ignore him." Jennifer steered Beth forward when she faltered. "He knows how to weaken your resolve, and all he has to do is act helpless."
"I feel bad for him," she whispered.
"I know that, and so does he."
"Beth, I need you. Please talk to me. I'm sorry, all right? I'm sorry for everything."
Beth's footsteps were leaden, making it harder to step from him. He was hurting, and it scratched at her heart. She briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath, continuing forward. He wasn't hers to worry over anymore. Beth needed to worry about herself, and what she needed. And it wasn't Ozzy Peck.
The sound of something heavy falling to the floor hit Beth's ears, and she whirled around, ignoring Jennifer's words to keep moving. Ozzy knelt on the floor, his head lowered with his arms wrapped around it. His shoulders shook, and at first she thought he was crying, but it soon became apparent he was laughing. Beth stayed where she was.
"Sweet little Beth Lambert. Predictable Beth," he said in a shaky voice. "I never thought you'd be the one to end it. Since when does Beth Lambert have a backbone? Fuck my life." Ozzy laughed louder and flipped to his back, his eyes trained on the ceiling.
Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and Beth gritted her teeth. That was her, easily and wrongly pegged by everyone who thought they knew her.
"He is loco," Jennifer muttered. "Can we go now?"
"Yes," she hissed. "Let's go."
"What the hell is going on out here?" Deb demanded, jogging from the back office.
"Ozzy fell." Beth met Deb's gaze as she made her way to her son. "He needs a ride home."
With a frown twisting her mouth, Deb hunkered down by Ozzy, placing an arm around his shoulders as she looked at Beth. "Go home, Beth. I'll take care of my son."
Rooted in place with shock by the blame she saw in Deb's eyes, it took a moment for Beth's feet to work. She numbly followed Jennifer from the bar, Ozzy's laughter following them. Parents always choose their kids over others, her mother once told her. She'd meant it to be encouraging, but it seemed like a barbed torch to Beth. Turned the wrong way and it burned, turned another and it stabbed.
What if the child did something unforgivable to someone else? What then?
Beth blinked and walked into a dark, chilly night.
EIGHT
BETH KNEW SHE must be wearing remnants of the weekend when she stepped into the reading room Monday afternoon and the first words out of Harrison's mouth were, "You look awful. I take it you had an inspiring weekend."
He stood near the windows as he so often did, reminding her of a self-caged bird. Without replying, she studied the dark coloring beneath his eyes, wondering at the strict line of his mouth. He held himself stiffly, and Beth searched his expression for an answer to his behavior last week. Harrison looked worse than her, worse than the last time she'd seen him. It wasn't anything startlingly obvious, but something was off.
"That good, huh?" he continued, his eyes trained on hers.
She could already tell the two of them were different from last week. While she was researching and thinking and coming to a decision, maybe he was doing the same. Beth was more emboldened, and he seemed more open, watching her in a way he hadn't previously allowed himself. There was a deeper hitch to his mouth, a stronger light in his eyes. She lifted her chin, refusing to look away when their gazes collided.
"My ex-boyfriend doesn't understand what the ‘ex' part means," was the only answer she supplied. "And you?"
Harrison's mouth twisted and he replied dryly, "My parents decided an impromptu visit was in order."
"Your parents were here?" Beth's frown flipped into a faint smile. She'd been worried for nothing. Harrison had been in good hands, although from the way he was acting, it hadn't been an enjoyable experience for him. "That's great. I didn't think you saw them much."
"I don't."
"Oh." Beth trained her gaze on the melting snow outside the window. Her parents were everything, and without them, she'd be lost. They were the rocks that would shatter her free when she was locked inside a glass-built room of her own insecurities. "Why don't you?"
"They don't treat me the same as they used to, and it bothers me. I'm an invalid in their minds."
She nodded, her fingers tightening on the manuscript she carried. Beth looked at Harrison. "I understand."
Harrison tilted his head. "Do you?"
Beth swallowed. "I think so."
"I'm not sure you can."
In the silence that trailed his words, she shifted her feet and moved the stack of papers from under one arm to the other.
"What's that?" His eyes flicked down.
Feeling self-conscious and second guessing the great idea that came upon her yesterday, Beth felt her face go red. "Oh. Well. This … " She paused as his dark eyes drilled into hers in that impatient way of his. "This is the first story I wrote. You wanted me to read a book to get to know you. I thought maybe you'd be interested in reading something of mine to get to know me. Keep in mind, it isn't any good," Beth added when his expression went blank.
"Why would I want to get to know you?" he asked quietly, without malice.
"Maybe you don't. But if you do." Beth set down the papers on the couch and crossed her arms in the fire of Harrison's gaze. A glint of humor shone in the depths, made her senses spring to attention.
When Beth was with Ozzy, she felt weaker. Meek. Unsure of herself and what she wanted. In Harrison's presence, it was the opposite. He expected strength from her, and that made her want to be strong. His attention on her was heavy with the unknown. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Was it anything like what she was? Each time she looked away, something brought her eyes back to him. Beth stopped fighting it and unabashedly watched him.
"I have questions for you." When a single eyebrow quirked, she continued. "For the book." Beth inhaled. "It's not bad out today-the snow is melting, and the temperature is in the forties. The sun is shining. Would you be okay with going for a walk and talking?"
His shoulders relaxed, and after a short pause, he nodded. "Yes. I'm okay with that."
"Oh. Okay. Good."
"You sound surprised."
She gathered up her hair and swept it over one shoulder, her fingers needing a task. "I always think you're going to tell me no."
His eyes watched the gesture, seemed intrigued by it. "Yet you ask anyway."
Beth looked away from his piercing eyes, feeling a smile curve her lips. "Yes. I do."
They didn't speak as they put on their coats and boots. Harrison's stocking cap fell from the pocket of his jacket and Beth reached down to retrieve it before he could. He outstretched a hand for it, and she tugged it down over his head, leaving a wave of reddish-blond hair visible on his forehead. Beth pushed the locks back from his face, her fingers tingling from the contact. His cheek muscles flexed as his eyes bored into hers. The shared look spiraled through her, bringing fire through her frame.
She waited for him to reprimand her for touching him, but he only turned toward the door and stepped outside. Beth let out a deep breath and caught up to him near the side of the house. A smile, small and triumphant, claimed her face. That was huge-that he let her touch him and that he didn't say anything about it.
Snow melted and dripped from the roof to form piles of slush on the ground. The sun reflected off the white pathway, blinding and dazzling. Harrison took them on a manmade trail through the snow that led behind the house and in the opposite direction of the hill they'd ascended the previous week. Beth hopped over a puddle of melted snow and landed in Harrison's path. He paused, his head cocked, and then stepped around her.