She walked about eight blocks, through the Pacific Heights neighborhood.
Intentionally or not, she found herself in front of Ricks housea modern, four-story glass and stucco structure surrounded by gates and fences and the best digital security money could buy. Shed been there only once, and shed been stupid enough to think Rick had invited her for something more than work. His living room was built for romance, the entire city spread out like De-Beers diamonds in the dark. But they sat at a small table and discussed the legalities of endowment planning.
Gwen charged down the hill. She noticed a small bar and grill at the dividing line between chic Pacific Heights and the more commercial Cow Hollow neighborhood. She spied a pay phone on the sidewalk.
Gwen pulled out the business card, then put about six quarters in the coin slot, figuring that should at least get her started. She dialed.
After two rings a recorded message activated. It said, Leave your information. I shall call. /Beep./ Brief and to the point. Gwen appreciated that Cummings didnt waste anyones time. Thats probably how he got so rich. Gwen left her name, the public phone number, and a tantalizing hint of what she had to offer him. She waited in the booth for ten minutes, feeling awkward as people walked down the street and stared at her. She supposed her wardrobe didnt exactly mesh with the demographics of a woman who relied on public phones. Cummings didnt call back.
Perhaps that was for the best, Gwen thought, sliding open the phone booth door and trudging back uphill. She wasnt entirely sure what shed say once she reached him. She knew Cummings hated Rick for what hed done to his daughter, his only child. She knew Cummings wanted revenge. She knew Rick had destroyed Cummingss life, much like Rick had just destroyed hers. Perhaps they could offer each other some kind of assistance.
It was the only way to make it in this world, her mother had always saideat or be eaten. Those were her only choices, right?
Absolutely not.
Josie looked at him with that now-familiar expression of acceptance. Big eyes. Barely discernible nod of the head. Little smile. In general, he loved Josies generous, forgiving nature. At that moment, however, it annoyed the hell out of him.
Shed just asked him if hed take her on a motorcycle ride. The request had been harmless enough, he supposed, but now he was fighting off a rush of dark fear roiling in his gut. His body had begun to tremble.
Just the idea that hed ever put Josie on the back of his bike made him nauseous. The idea that she would wrap her arms around himthe way Margot hadand rely on him to keep her safe made him sweat. The idea that hed be holding her life in his handsall that goodness and laughter and sweetnessmade him want to run out of the barn like a madman.
It could be a really short ride, she said. Ive never been on a motorcycle before.
He watched Josie walk up to the Harley-Davidson, trace her fingers along the shining chrome and the supple leather. She gripped the handlebars and pretended she was gunning the engine, which made her laugh. Then she looked up at him with those impossibly gentle gray eyes and smiled.
Maybe someday? she said.
God, Josie. I dont know.
She nodded and walked toward him. When she stopped before him and looked up into his face, Rick knew she expected him to embrace her, but he couldnt. He just couldnt do it. Suddenly, he felt alone. Walled in.
Paralyzed by the fear.
So Josie embraced him. She slowly wrapped Rick in her arms, one around his waist and another up high on his back. She just hugged him. She didnt try to talk him into anything or tell him any lies about how she trusted him with her life. She just hugged him tight, and didnt let go.
Eventually, his arms pulled her tighter.
Rick wasnt sure how much time went by, the two of them standing there holding on to each other, the sound of the tractor off in the distance, the friendly tomcat rubbing against his ankle, the rhythm of Josies breath.
But it was enough time for him to reach the still place inside him. It dawned on Rick that he had a woman who cared for him in spite of everything. A woman who was strong enough to hear the truth and loving enough to forgive.
Eventually, Rick raised his hands to Josies soft curls and he stroked her hair. He lowered his lips to the top of her head. Josie, he whispered.
Im right here.
He supposed that was the miracle. She was still there.
If we ever did go for a ride, hypothetically…
Yeah? Josie raised her head and smiled at him.
Wed have to stay on the ranch. I wouldnt feel comfortable taking you on the road.
That sounds fun.
Well, it might not be, Rick said, feeling his agitation escalate again.
We could get miles out in the vineyard and Id ask you to get off and walk back.
Why would you do that?
Because I could freeze. I could decide that I couldnt go another inch.
Lucky for you Ive got a strong pair of legs.
He chuckled, aware of how her optimistic nature soothed him, cut through the nonsense. Everything about you is strong, girl.
So do you want to give it a try with me? Josie grinned at him. Rick knew she was asking for a bike ride but reminding him of their promise to each other.
Suddenly, Teeny appeared in the doorway to the gym and leaned up against the wall. Hed just finished his cardio and was soaked in sweat, and the tender concern on his face meant hed overheard at least part of their conversation. In fact, Rick wasnt one hundred percent certain the wetness on Teenys cheeks was from his workout.
Without a word, Teeny walked over to the shelves on the far wall of the south barn and pulled down an iridescent purple helmet with a visor that Rick had never noticed before.
This ought to fit, he told Josie, tapping her on the shoulder.
Josie whirled around in delight and grabbed the helmet, shoving it down over her curls. Teeny adjusted the chinstrap and gave the top of the helmet a pat.
How do you feel? Teeny asked.
Like a real Harley mama, Josie said, her grin spreading. How do I look?
Teeny shook his head, laughing. You didnt happen to bring any black leather and fringe with you, did you?
She shrugged. Forgot to pack it.
Teeny winked at Rick. The bikes ready to go, man.
But Rick wasnt. It took every ounce of strength he had to stay put, feet planted on the concrete floor, and not run for his life. He didnt think he could do this.
For the first year after the accident, the memory of the crash would loop through his brain dozens of times a day, debilitating him mentally even as he fought to heal physically. The memory was always the same.
The rain on his face, the rush of the drugs and beer in his bloodstream, the womans warm, living body pressed up to his back.
Then the guardrail would appear in the headlight. The bike would lose traction as he tried to make the sharp turn. In that split second he would recognize that hed been going so fast that there was no way out.
The impact. The blackness. The pain. The self-hate.
So what do you think, man? Teeny asked.
Rick stared at him, remembering how one day he simply had to stop wishing he could rewrite history and focus on retraining his mind instead. He would visualize the rain cool on his face, the clarity of his sober mind, his responsible speed, his smooth control around the hairpin turn. Then he would visualize returning Margot safely home.