Chapter 17

ABBY

When I get back to the studio - I mean, my new home - I have to stop thinking of it like that - it's past dinnertime. Leaving Kate's put me smack dab in the middle of rush hour traffic. It took me two hours to get here. I walk into the little cottage and sit on the bed. I want to lie down for a while and forget about everything. Actually, I want to hide. I have no idea when my confession will hit the news, but I know it will bother Jack. I don't want to fight with him, but I had to do it. He'd do the same for me. I grip my head in my hands and feel my insides churn with dread. I roll onto my side. I can't help it. I'll protect Jack as much as I can, but I feel like we're drifting apart. It's like there's this huge chasm between us and I don't know how to cross it. I'm isolated, but it's my own damn fault. And Jack - oh God, if I tell him what I'm going through, he's going to blame himself. It doesn't matter that it's not his fault. It doesn't matter that this would have happened to me anyway.

Kate's right. I'm an idealist and when that image of my life shattered, Jack was there to cling on to. I couldn't have asked for more, and yet, something's not right. I wish I could wave a hand and both of us could be ten years younger. I wish I'd had the guts to just kiss him back when we were eighteen.

Living in the past won't help your life in the present, Abby. Stop it. That voice in the back of my head seems smarter than me most of the time. I sit up and rub my eyes with the back of my hand. Instead of wishing things better, I have to make them better. I can start there. It's something tangible.

I pull off my shoes and wonder where Jack is. I didn't see him when I walked inside, but I went around the back of the property, down by the shore and up to the cottage. The sound of the waves and the salty sea spray makes me feel better.

He must be in the studio. I decide to go find him. When I see Jack, he's standing on a ladder with a paintbrush in his hand. He's shirtless, wearing a pair of jeans that cling to him perfectly with paint splatters on the legs. Jack leans in and touches up an older piece he's been working on. Everything is in muted tones of gray, showcasing a woman's face, eyes lowered, hair draped over her shoulder. It's a somber piece, haunting.

I walk toward him, making sure I make a little noise so I don't startle him. I haven't seen him work in a while. Part of me wants to sit down and watch him paint. Creating something from nothing has always amazed me. Jack can take an empty canvas and turn it into the most evocative, heart wrenching, provocative thing I've ever seen. He amazes me every time.

"So," Jack says, his voice tense.

"So," I reply, not certain if he knows what I had Gus do yet. My stomach twists as I get closer. Jack doesn't turn and look down at me. He continues to paint, blending a section of skin. I stop at the bottom of his ladder. An insane urge hits me and I want to climb up it and kiss him. With my luck, I'd topple the two of us over, so I just stand there and look up at him.

"It sounds like Kate and Gus are going to kill each other. Forcing them to work together on this project will make for plenty of uncomfortable situations." Jack continues to paint without looking down.

"What do you mean?"

"She didn't say anything about it?" he asks over his shoulder, surprised.

"No, but she didn't sound like she was nuts about him, either. Actually, Kate seemed way out of sorts. A guy that I went to college with showed up looking for me, and we had words." I cross my arms over my chest, thinking about it. Her reaction seemed so weird. "Let's just say that I won't be talking to her for a while."

Now Jack stops. He lifts the brush from the painting and turns to glance down at me. "What happened?"

I shrug. "She said I was a...skank."

"Seriously? That doesn't sound like Kate." Jack watches me for a second.

I shift my weight to my other leg. I can't talk about this with him. I glance away. "She reminded me that people aren't always as they appear, and she used me and you as an example. The preacher does the painter - that kind of thing. It didn't go over well."

"And you're mad about it?" He's looking at me like I'm insane. I wasn't what I appeared. I was a floosy posing as a preacher. That hollow spot inside my chest has so much pressure on it that it feels like I'm being squeezed to death from the inside.

"It's not what she said, it's the way she said it. It felt like a bitch-slap." Jack smiles at me like I'm crazy. "Forget it. You wouldn't understand."

He laughs at that. "Really? I wouldn't understand what it's like when my best friend is painfully blunt, right to my face? Gus is a carbon copy of Kate. No wonder why they hate each other." He pauses for a second and asks, "So, this guy, who is he?"

"Just someone I met when I started college. My first week there, I got a flat. I was trying to change the tire and he came along and helped me. He was nice to me." I'm looking at the painting as I speak, but Jack's eyes don't stray from my face.

"So, this was pre-vows, right? Was college Abby into guys or were they shunned later?" His tone is teasing, which makes me smile. I know what he's asking - how much did I date before I jumped into the clergy boat?

Smiling, flicking my eyes up to his, I say, "Just to be clear, Abby has always been into guys. There's not another option for me. You make it sound like I was into girls... or goats."

"That would have been interesting too. I couldn't really complain, but I'm not sure if I like the idea of a guy that had the hots for you showing up and looking for you." He pauses and looks at the painting and then back at me. "So, I know you didn't do everything, but did you do anything with him?"

"Do you need someone to be jealous of?" I ask, folding my arms across my chest and grinning at him.

"Maybe. It'll make me feel manlier. A good shot of testosterone will make things a lot more intense." Jack is all bravado. The look on his face makes me laugh. I haven't ever seen him jealous before.

"Oh, yeah? What kind of things? I might have to come up with a really juicy story." I'm grinning at him. I half expect Jack to jump off the ladder by the look on his face, but he stays there, smiling down at me.

"Oh, you know - sexy kinds of things." He winks at me and I feel the urge to giggle.

Smiling hard, I swallow the laugh and say, "Sounds nice."

"Oh, it'll be anything but nice. 'Nice' is not a word to describe sex. That's a word for curtains and movies that you didn't really like." Jack watches for my reaction.

"Hmm...," I'm twisting my fingers in front of me, suddenly all girly, "Well, Jackson is nice. Does that make you feel better?"

"Ah, why'd you tell me?" Jack winks and then smiles broadly. "And just when you were really getting me riled up."

"I know. I have a poor sense of timing. Maybe later I'll tell you about Jeremy." I wink at him and start to walk away, smiling to myself.

"Abby!" I turn back to him, "I'm gonna get you for that." He says it while pointing a paintbrush at me.

"I was hoping you would." I wink at him, before turning to skip away to find us some dinner.

Chapter 18

JACK

After Abby leaves the room, Jack clings to the ladder and rests his head against the cold metal. She dated. Why this is news, he doesn't know. Jack knew Abby had a life away from him. She was gone so long, it stood to reason that there were other guys, but he still didn't like it. And with everything that's going on, it seems like a strange time for a guy to show up, but maybe it's nothing.

If one of his ex-girlfriends from college showed up, Jack was sure that Abby would pitch a fit. The college version of Jack wasn't that different from the high school edition. He was searching for something, always trying to fill the hole in his chest. For a long time, he refused to believe it was Abby. When he wasn't in class or in the art building painting something, he was with a girl. Sometimes they did stuff, sometimes not. It took nearly five years to realize that Abby was the reason for that longing. When she walked in, Jack was angry. She'd left such a hole in his life, but Abby seemed unaffected. Now he knew that wasn't true. It only took one look at her face to see that she was a broken version of the girl he had known. Instead of helping her heal, he had shattered her.

"Fuck," he breathes, looking down at the floor far below. How could he do that to her?

Jack doesn't have time to think about it. His phone rings. Lifting it from his pocket, he swipes his finger across the screen, leaving a trail of gray paint. "Shit," he mumbles before pressing the speakerphone button. "What do you need, Gus?"

"Hey, Jack. Sorry to bother you. I'm trying to hammer out the details, but I need to run some things by you."

"Where the hell did you run off to? I needed to talk to you about something." Jack is irritated. He hasn't said anything to Gus about Abby, but he has to talk to someone. Jack glances around, from his perch atop the ladder, making sure Abby isn't in the room.

Gus pauses. When he speaks, his voice is too high. "I had to take care of some things. You know how it is." There's a pause before he asks, "Did you see the news?"

"No. I've been working. What's the matter now?"

The tension in Gus's voice fades as he speaks, "Oh, well, there were protesters at the Biloxi opening. But we knew that. The news covered it and did a little expose on you and Abby. THE AWAKENING was roped off and we set guards by it to make sure nothing would happen. The added security is coming out of our pocket, by the way. The museum isn't being particularly cooperative."

"As expected. What about Brimstone? Did you get anywhere with that?" The line goes silent. "Gus?"

"Let me do a little bit more digging. I know they're in the group and that they are pushing the locals up here to picket the studio. So far, they haven't gotten a foothold up here. It's easier down south. They think you're morally objectionable, to start with. Brimstone needs that up here before they can start anything. That's probably why it's still quiet. The town respects you and Abby. I don't think the locals will act out against you. If they do something, they'll have to import the crazies from somewhere else."

"Buses," Jack says, staring at the canvas.

"Yeah, from more conservative places. The guy sucks. He takes people who mean well, who honestly want to make a difference, and then twists them. I understand wanting things better, I really do, but the rage that's directed at you is so misplaced. If they want to change things, well, we've had this conversation before."

"Yeah," Jack replies. We have. Many times. "This isn't about change. It's about blame. They need someone to blame and I'm an easy target."

"I'm sorry, Jack. I don't know how to - " Gus suddenly stops speaking.

"What was that? You don't know how to, what?" Jack stares at the phone. There was no static, no indication that the call was dropped. Gus just bit off his words. Fuck. If Gus is keeping things from him, he's screwed. "Gus, man, if you're keeping something from me - "

"I took a bullet for you back during that whole scandal last year. Remember? You thought I pled out. But, I told them that the girls were full of shit and they tossed my ass in a holding cell for forty-eight hours. It sucked, man. There were hairy villains in there, and super wasted rich guys that fell off their yachts. But seriously, I've got your back Jack. I always have no matter what shit looks like."

Jack presses his fingers to his face. "What'd you do? If someone's going to attack me, if they - "

"No one is going to come after you, okay? Go chill out for a while and spend time with your new wife."

Jack knows something is going on, but doesn't press it. His mind drifts to Abby. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about - Abby."

Gus's tone changes. "Is everything all right? You guys seem happy together."

"We are, it's just that..." Jack sighs. His eyes flick toward the door, making sure Abby won't hear. "I think I made a mistake. I shouldn't have married her." Jack's voice barely comes out. "I shouldn't have hired her. I ruined her life, Gus."

Gus's tone is sharp. It sounds like Jack's being scolded. "Cut this shit out, Gray. That girl loves you. If you want her life to be better, then fix it. You can't change the past, so stop trying." Gus sputters for a few minutes and then coherency returns, "I can't believe you. Abby's the girl that got away, the one you were pining over since I met you. Somehow she falls right into your lap and you have the audacity to say that you should have tossed her ass out the door! I can't believe you. How could you say something like that?"

"Because," Jack says, his voice soft, "every time I look at her, I see the pain in her eyes. There's another part to Abby, and I've taken it away."

"That's bullshit, Jack, and you know it. If you feel like you fucked up her life, you need to talk to her. Abby's the only one who can tell you that. Don't go by what you see in her eyes, fucking ask her. She's your wife, she's the girl you wanted all those years, the one you couldn't live without. I swear to God, if you mess this up - "

Jack glances down at his phone and hits END CALL, cutting Gus off midsentence. Regret fills his soul. Regret for everything. Everything Jack touches turns to ash. Abby is no exception. Gus doesn't see it  -  not yet  -  but he will.

Jack lifts the brush and starts smoothing the paint again. His eyes trace over the bare flesh, but all he sees is a curving line with a fucked up gradation. Making the figure look life-like means getting the shading right.

When he moved the ladder to this piece and started painting, Jack wasn't sure why he chose to come back to this one. It was a piece that he had been making before Abby came along. Maybe it reminded him of who he was.

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