She stood straighter and breathed in the crisp air. The day felt almost new, with endless possibilities. Today,she told herself, she was going to find a job. Today, she decided, she was going to start living the rest of her life.
She had run away twice before and she wanted to think she’d learned from her mistakes. The first time was a littleless than a year after she was married, after he’d beaten her while she was cowering in the corner of thebedroom. The bills had come in and he was angry with her because she’d turned up the thermostat to make thehouse warmer. When he’d finally stopped, he’d grabbed his keys and headed out to buy more liquor. Withoutthinking, she’d grabbed her jacket and left the house, limping down the road. Hours later, with sleet coming downand nowhere to go, she’d called him and he went to pick her up.
and nowhere to go, she’d called him and he went to pick her up.
The next time she’d gotten as far as Atlantic City before he found her. She’d taken money from his wallet andpurchased a ticket on the bus, but he’d found her within an hour of her arrival. He’d driven his car at breakneckspeed, knowing she would run to the only place where she might still find friends. He’d handcuffed her in thebackseat of the car on the drive back. He stopped once, pulling the car over to the side of a closed office building,and beat her; later that night, the gun came out.
After that, he’d made it harder to leave. He usually kept the money locked away and started tracking herwhereabouts obsessively. She knew that he would go to extraordinary lengths to find her. As crazy as he was, hewas persistent and diligent and his instincts were usually right. He would find out where she’d gone, she knew; hewould come to Philadelphia to find her. She had a head start, that was all, but with no extra money to start oversomewhere else, all she could do was watch for him over her shoulder for the time being. Her time in Philadelphiawas limited.
She found a job as a cocktail waitress on her third day in town. She made up a name and social securitynumber. Eventually, it would be checked, but she’d be long gone by then. She found another room to rent on thefar side of Chinatown. She worked for two weeks, accumulated some tip money while searching for and findinganother job, and quit without bothering to pick up her paycheck. There was no point; without identification, shewouldn’t be able to cash it. She worked another three weeks at a small diner and eventually moved out ofChinatown to a run-down motel that rented by the week. Although it was in a seedier section of town, the roomwas more expensive, but she had her own shower and bathroom and it was worth it, if only to have some privacyand a place to leave her things. She’d saved a few hundred dollars, more than she had when she’d leftDorchester, but not enough to start over. Again, she left before picking up her paycheck, without even going backto quit. She found yet another job at yet another diner a few days later. In the new job, she told the manager hername was Erica.
The constant job changing and moves had kept her vigilant, and it was there, only four days after she started,that she’d rounded the corner on her way to work and saw a car that seemed somehow out of place. She stopped.
Even now, she wasn’t sure how she’d realized it, other than the fact that it was shiny enough to reflect the earlymorning light. As she stared at the car, she noticed movement in the driver’s seat. The engine wasn’t running andit struck her as odd that someone would be sitting in an unheated car on a cold morning. The only people, sheknew, who did that were those who were waiting for someone.
Or watching for someone.
Kevin.
She knew it was him, knew it with a certainty that surprised her, and she backed around the corner, the wayshe’d come, praying that he hadn’t glanced in the rearview mirror. Praying he hadn’t seen her. As soon as the carwas out of sight, she began to run back toward the motel, her heart hammering. She hadn’t run so fast in years,but all the walking she’d been doing had strengthened her legs and she moved quickly. One block. Two. Three.
She looked constantly over her shoulder but Kevin didn’t follow.
No matter. He knew she was here. He knew where she worked. He would know if she didn’t show up. Withinhours, he would find out where she was staying.
In her room, she threw her things into the duffel bag and was out the door within minutes. She started towardthe bus station. It would take forever, though. An hour, maybe more, to walk there, and she didn’t have the time.
That would be the first place he went when he realized she wasn’t there. Turning around, she went back into themotel and had the clerk call her a cab. It arrived ten minutes later. The longest ten minutes of her life.
At the bus station, she frantically searched the schedule and selected a bus to New York. It was scheduled toleave in half an hour. She hid in the women’s restroom until it was time to board. When she got on the bus shelowered herself into a seat. It didn’t take long to get to New York. Again, she scanned the schedules and bought aticket that would take her as far as Omaha.
In the evening, she got off the bus somewhere in Ohio. She slept in the station, and the next morning she foundher way to a truck stop. There she met a man who was delivering materials to Wilmington, North Carolina.
A few days later, after selling her jewelry, she wandered into Southport and found the cottage. After she paidthe first month’s rent, there was no money left to buy food.
23
It was mid-June and Katie was leaving Ivan’s after finishing up a busy dinner shift when she spotted a familiarfigure standing near the exit.
“Hey there.” Jo waved from beneath the lamppost where Katie had locked up her bike.
“What are you doing here?” Katie asked, leaning in to give her friend a hug. She’d never run into Jo in townbefore, and seeing her out of context felt strange for some reason.
“I came to see you. Where’ve you been, stranger?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I’ve been around enough to know you’ve been seeing Alex for a few weeks.” Jo winked. “But as a friend, I’venever been one to impose. I figured you two needed some time alone.”
Katie blushed despite herself. “How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t. But your lights weren’t on at the house and I took a chance.” Jo shrugged. She motioned over hershoulder. “Are you doing anything? Do you want to grab a drink before you head home?” When she saw Katie’shesitation, she went on. “I know it’s late. One drink, I promise. Then I’ll let you go to bed.”
“One drink,” Katie agreed.
A few minutes later, they stepped inside the pub, a local favorite paneled in dark wood scarred with decades ofuse, with a long mirror behind the bar. It was quiet tonight; only a few tables were occupied and the two womentook a seat at a corner table in the back. Since there didn’t seem to be table service, Katie ordered two glasses ofwine at the bar and brought them back to the table.
“Thanks,” Jo said, taking her glass. “Next time, it’s on me.” She leaned back. “So you and Alex, huh?”
“Is that really what you wanted to talk to me about?” Katie asked.
“Well, since my own love life is in the dumps, I have to live vicariously through you. It seems to be going well,though. He was over there… what? Two or three times last week? And the same thing the week before that?”
Actually more, Katie thought. “Something like that.”
Jo twisted the stem of her wineglass. “Uh-oh.”
“Uh-oh what?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was getting serious.” She raised an eyebrow.
“We’re still getting to know each other,” Katie offered, not sure where Jo was going with this line ofquestioning.
“That’s how every relationship starts. He likes you, you like him. Then you both go from there.”
“Is this why you came down?” Katie tried not to sound exasperated. “To hear all the details?”
“Not allof them. Just the juicy ones.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “How about we talk about your love life instead?”
“Why? Are you in the mood to be depressed?”
“When was the last time you went on a date?”
“A good date? Or just a date-date?”
“A good date.”
Jo hesitated. “I’d have to say that it’s been at least a couple of years.”
“What happened?”
Jo dipped a finger in her wine, then ran it around the rim of her glass, making it hum. Finally, she looked up. “Agood man is hard to find,” she said wistfully. “Not everyone is as lucky as you are.”
Katie didn’t know quite how to respond to that, so instead she touched Jo’s hand. “What’s really going on?”
she asked gently. “Why did you want to talk to me?”
Jo looked around the empty bar as if trying to draw inspiration from her surroundings. “Do you ever sit backand wonder what it all means? Whether this is it or if there’s something greater out there? Or if you were meant forsomething better?”
“I think everyone does,” Katie answered, her curiosity growing.
“When I was a girl, I used to make believe that I was a princess. One of the good ones, I mean. Someone whoalways does the right thing and has the power to make people’s lives better so that, in the end, they live happilyever after.”
Katie nodded. She could remember doing the same thing, but she still wasn’t sure where Jo was going so shestayed quiet.
“I think that’s why I do what I do now. When I started, I just wanted to help. I’d see people who were strugglingwith the loss of someone they loved—a parent, a child, a friend—and my heart just overflowed with sympathy. Itried to do everything in my power to make things better for them. But as time passed, I came to realize that therewas only so much I could do myself. That in the end, people who are grieving have to wantto move on—that firststep, that motivating spark, has to come from within them. And when it does, it opens the door to the unexpected.”
Katie took a deep breath, trying to make sense of Jo’s rambling. “I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me.”
Jo swirled her wine, studying the little whirlpool in her glass. For the first time, her tone became utterly serious.
“I’m talking about you and Alex.”
Katie couldn’t hide her surprise. “Me and Alex?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “He’s told you about losing his wife, right? About how hard it was for him—for the wholefamily—to get past it?”
Katie stared across the table, suddenly uncomfortable. “Yes…” she began.
“Then be careful with them,” Jo said, her tone serious. “All of them. Don’t break their hearts.”
In the awkward silence that followed, Katie found herself recalling their first conversation about Alex.
Did you two ever see each other? she remembered asking Jo.
Yes, but maybe not in the way you’re thinking , Jo had answered. And just so we’re clear: it was a long time
ago and everyone has moved on.
At the time, she’d assumed that it meant that Jo and Alex had dated in the past, but now…
She was struck by the obviousness of the conclusion. The counselor Alex had mentioned, who had seen thekids and consulted with him in the aftermath of Carly’s death—it must have been Jo. Katie sat up straight. “Youworked with Alex and the kids, didn’t you? After Carly died, I mean.”
“I’d rather not say,” Jo answered. Her tone was measured and calm. Just like a counselor’s. “I can say that allof them… mean a lot to me. And if you’re not serious about a possible future with them, I think you should end itnow. Before it’s too late.”
Katie felt her cheeks flush; it seemed inappropriate—presumptuous, even—for Jo to be talking to her like this.
“I’m not sure any of this is really your concern,” she said, her voice tight.
Jo acknowledged her point with a reluctant nod. “You’re right. It’s not my concern—and I’m crossing someimportant boundaries here. But I really do think they’ve been through enough. And the last thing I want for them isto become attached to someone who has no intention of staying in Southport. Maybe I’m worried that the past isnever really in the past and that you might decide to leave, no matter how much sadness you leave in your wake.”
Katie was speechless. This conversation was so unexpected, so uncomfortable, and Jo’s words had definitelythrown her emotions into turmoil.
If Jo sensed Katie’s discomfort, she pressed on anyway.
“Love doesn’t mean anything if you’re not willing to make a commitment,” she said, “and you have to think notonly about what you want, but about what he wants. Not just now, but in the future.” She continued to stare atKatie across the table, her brown eyes unwavering. “Are you ready to be a wife to Alex and a mother to his kids?
Because that’s what Alex wants. Maybe not right now, but he will in the future. And if you’re not willing to make acommitment, if you’re only going to toy with his feelings and those of his children, then you’re not the person heneeds in his life.”
Before Katie could say anything, Jo got up from the table as she went on. “It might have been wrong of me tosay all this, and maybe we won’t be friends any longer, but I wouldn’t feel right about myself if I didn’t speakplainly. As I’ve said from the very beginning, he’s a good man—a rare man. He loves deeply and never stopsloving.” She let those words sink in before her expression suddenly softened. “I think you’re the same way, but Iwanted to remind you that if you care about him, then you have to be willing to commit to him. No matter what thefuture might bring. No matter how scared you might be.”