Lark Lake Lodge

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Road Home

The silence continued all the way to Lansing. I finally broke it by begging Harlan to make a stop. He’d made me leave before I could eat anything, but more importantly, I hadn’t had a drop of coffee and I really needed to pee. He waited until we were past the city and pulled off at a family diner, visible from the highway.

I rushed to the bathroom as he followed the hostess to a booth by the window. The entire place was trapped in the ’80s, with pink vinyl seats, teal Formica tables, and beige wallpaper with pink and teal swooshes. When I returned from the bathroom, I sat opposite Harlan and noticed he’d ordered me a coffee. Even when he was furious with me, he was thoughtful.

While I emptied three little plastic creamers into my cup and stirred it, I couldn’t get a read on his current anger level thanks to him burying his face in the laminated menu. His silence was really starting to get to me.

“Are we even going to talk about it?” I asked .

“Not now.”

“Why not?”

He heaved a sigh and dropped the menu on the table. His eyes were fiery. The hour and a half we’d been on the road wasn’t nearly enough for him to cool off.

“Because I don’t want to start a scene in here. I’m so mad…I don’t even know what to say.”

In the midst of feeling awful for freezing him out, it suddenly dawned on me. I was the aggrieved party here. I had yet to call him out for keeping the truth about Rob from me this whole time. Trying to calm him down had taken such a front seat, I’d forgotten to be pissed on my own behalf. Well, it was time to fight fire with fire. He wasn’t the only one who could be mad.

“Did you ever stop to think I might have a completely legitimate reason for not wanting to talk to you?”

His eyes widened for a split second, and then reset to squinty and mad. “Yeah, I actually did. I’ve thought through every potential reason why you’d run away and never answer your phone. I’ve driven myself insane running the possible scenarios. Had to do that because you couldn’t be bothered to tell me yourself. So fine…go ahead. Tell me. What’s your deal?”

“Rob stopped by,” I said. I hardly got his name out before Harlan rolled his eyes, threw up his hands and let out a pained groan.

“Of course! Of course this has something to do with that shit heel! Lemme guess, you screwed your ex and didn’t want to call and explain it. Is that it?”

The waitress had arrived in the midst of his charming speech to take our order. She paled and looked like she wished she was suddenly invisible. “I’ll give you a couple more minutes to look over the menu,” she said and skittered away.

The shock of Harlan’s accusation made it impossible to even acknowledge her. I stared at him, my throat closing with hurt, unable to speak. Sure, he was mad at me, but this was other level shit. It was really tough to decide which was more upsetting: that he instantly presumed I’d been unfaithful, or that he believed I could actually cheat on him with Rob .

“I know it may seem foolish to miss out on the opportunity to rekindle something with the son of a bitch who ruined my life, but no…I didn’t sleep with him. Do you really think I’d do something that stupid? I’d never do that to you, or me for that matter. Wow, Harlan.”

His shoulders slumped, he rubbed his hands over his face, and let out a deep exhale. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you wouldn’t do that. I’m just…so hurt by you shutting me out.”

“I know you are. And I shouldn’t have done it. But something Rob told me about your past—his and yours—made it really difficult for me to face you, to face us.”

His eyes went wide as his cheeks reddened and his spine straightened. As he breathed in to speak, the waitress tentatively approached again and we put the whole thing on hold. I ordered a Belgian waffle and Harlan got a Reuben and fries. It was breakfast time for me, but he’d been up since dawn.

As the waitress headed back to the kitchen, Harlan put his open hands on the table, palms up, hoping I’d hold them. Petulantly, I crossed my arms and he pulled his hands back, dropping them in his lap.

“I completely understand how this looks. I swear to God I wasn’t trying to hide this from you. I just…it’s ancient history.”

“Clearly it isn’t. Any time his name is mentioned, you turn beet red and ball your fists.”

“Well, he’s an asshole.”

“Yes, I know. But I deserved to know why you hated him so much. I deserved to know your past with him.”

“It’s not my past with him. It’s my feckless ex’s past with him.”

“Well, it sounded like you had a scrap with him over it. Handed him his ass from what I heard.”

He grinned at that. “Yeah, I pounded him. ”

“Why didn’t you say anything? You had so many opportunities, Harlan.”

“There was never a very good time to bring him up. When I’m with you, I want to enjoy our time together. Our talks at my table brought me back to life. The idea of bringing up that asshole and everything he did…it would just ruin everything. Plus, you get this sad look in your eyes whenever you talk about him. It makes my heart hurt.” I barely contained a gasp at his sweet vulnerability. “It makes me want to throttle him all over again.”

I wanted to laugh and kiss every inch of his face. He tried desperately to sandwich his sensitivity between talk of doing violence to Rob, but I caught it. He cared. He cared a whole lot, and it made his second round of omitting the truth a little easier to swallow.

“Also, I didn’t want you to get the impression that I was in this just to get some petty revenge. Like, he screwed my wife, so I’ll screw his. After the Stahl’s lodge fight, I worried you’d jump to that conclusion pretty quickly.”

“That’s fair. Though please don’t ever refer to me as his ‘wife’ again.” This time I was the one who offered my hands on the table. He slid his palms over mine—his warm, calloused fingers grasped tightly.

“I definitely won’t.”

He gave me a half smile, reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and then stroked my cheek with his thumb. I let out a happy sigh just as the waitress came around to warm up my coffee. She wore a sunny grin, relieved that we’d worked our shit out. Unfortunately, Harlan was still unresolved on one major point.

“Now that that’s out of the way, we need to talk about this running bullshit.”

Yikes.

My upper hand moment was over. The Rob revelation had been a really effective sidebar to distract him from the whole reason we fought in the first place, but we hadn’t really dealt with my tendency to bolt.

“If we’re gonna make this work, you have to talk to me. I can’t keep worrying myself sick and tracking you down.”

Unable to think of anything to say, I sat silently, looking down at my brown diner coffee mug as I added another plastic creamer and stirred. Every justification I thought of for bolting to the Firebrand or ignoring his calls while holed up in Brian’s basement sounded childish.

“You know, Kayla ran off with Shannon while I was grocery shopping. We never worked through our separation or custody. She just waited until I went into town and ran. By the time I finally tracked her down, months later, she was already with Cort and he was able to finance some pretty expensive lawyers. I never had a chance of getting my little girl back. So, if I’m a little sensitive about your dodgy method of problem solving, that’s probably why.”

It was like the clouds parted and the sun shone directly in my eyes. Finally, I understood why he tended toward obsessive over my whereabouts and why he lost his shit when I bailed. He thought I was gone for good. Every time. Whenever I left the property, he thought it was the last time he’d see me. My heart shattered for him.

“Oh Harlan,” I said.

“Now, don’t give me that pitying look. It was all a long time ago.”

“Still, it obviously had a big effect on you. And I fed right into that. I’m so sorry. I was never leaving for good. I just—I was hiding. I didn’t realize how much of a pattern it is for me until you pointed it out. When stuff gets to be too much, I crumble and hide. I’m not proud to admit it, but that’s apparently my very flawed coping strategy.”

He regarded me for a long moment. His eyes seemed bluer than they’d ever been. He took in a deep breath and let it out .

“You don’t have to absorb it all anymore. I’m asking you to come to me so I can support you, help you. That’s my job.”

How I didn’t faint, I have no idea. Did men really say things like that? And in the middle of an argument? I’d spent my adult life with a man who only took, never gave. Transitioning to being with a guy who was begging me to let him shoulder the weight of my problems was like being dropped on another planet—a planet made out of chocolate where you could nap all day and everyone called you pretty once an hour regardless of how much chocolate was smeared on your face.

What an utter idiot I’d been. My fear over my late period, the sudden seriousness of a very short relationship, and an unexpected revelation from Rob had nearly made me screw up the best thing that had ever happened to me. Sure, Harlan had his challenges. He was technologically stunted and he had a bossy streak a mile long. But he was the strongest, most caring, most empathetic guy I’d ever known. And I’d given him the silent treatment for days. He didn’t deserve that.

Time to lay it all on the table. I blurted my response as our waitress arrived with our meals and placed them in front of us.

“I’m falling for you, Harlan. Really hard.”

I don’t know who smiled more brightly, Harlan or the waitress.

“Anything else I can get you two?” she asked, her voice cracking with joy.

“We’re good,” Harlan said, never taking his eyes off me. I knew he wasn’t just talking about the food. We were good .

We tucked into our meals. Even though we hadn’t spelled out a plan for me to stop running and to start communicating, it seemed pretty clear by my blunt admission that I was willing to try. We spent the rest of our lunch without words, just goofy lovesick grins at one another between bites. When it was time to head out, I stood behind him as he handed the check to the cashier at the front of the diner. She eyed us with a knowing grin. Obviously, our waitress friend had been sharing the ups and downs of us burying the hatchet. I didn’t mind being the day’s entertainment for them. I was just pleased to provide a happy ending.

He took my hand in his as we walked back to his truck. He walked me around to the passenger side. As I reached for the handle, he took my wrist and spun me. My back pressed against the door as he caged me with his hands on the window on either side of my head. I stared up at him. He was radiating an intense and elementally virile vibe.

“It’s time to kiss and make up.”

Yay!

He bent his head down and seared my lips with a fiery kiss. We were filled with the requisite passion that post-fight affection holds, but he’d also been completely honest about how much he wanted to protect and care for me and I’d accepted. With this kiss, he claimed me. His tongue slid in my mouth and stroked mine as he pressed his body flush against mine. My fingers speared in his hair and I hooked my leg over his hip.

Thank God he’d parked at the back of the diner where there were no windows. I didn’t want to follow up our very public relationship drama with an X-rated encore. But there wasn’t much room in my head for worrying about being seen. I was too caught up in sensation. His lips traveled over my cheek and down my neck as his hands slid over my breasts. I arched into his palms and moaned my appreciation as he quickly found and tweaked my hardened nipples. I felt his hardness against my stomach and nearly cried with joy when he bent his knees so he could line up and grind against me right where I wanted it most.

The effervescent pleasure of our hips clashing together and my resulting gasp seemed to shake him out of his hormonal haze. He fell against me, deflated, and buried his face in my hair. His lips were just above my ear .

“We have to stop. I’d rather not get arrested for indecent exposure.”

“I dunno. It feels so good, it might be worth it,” I said, torturing him with one more grind of my pelvis into his.

He growled at me and stepped back, giving me a cautionary look before walking to the driver’s side. We hopped in our respective seats and hit the road again. The mood was far lighter than it had been during the first half of the drive. Now that we’d made our peace, Harlan seemed unable to keep from touching me. Lord knows I wasn’t about to complain. He’d hold my hand, rest his palm on my thigh, or every now and then he’d lean in and give me a peck on the cheek or neck. I giggled every time like a damn middle schooler. The haze of infatuation was thick and I was sure I’d never felt such giddy happiness in my life.

After two hours of joking, singing along to the radio, and sharing stories, we neared the private road leading to the lodge. Just before the turnoff, I saw something that stole the breath from my lungs and made my jaw drop.

A brand-new, custom-built sign stood proudly at the side of our road. It was huge— maybe six feet high and eight feet wide? —and gorgeously handcrafted from several logs bolted together. A large rectangle at the center of the line of logs was smoothly dug out and “Lark Lake Lodge” was expertly painted above three stylized evergreen trees—exactly like the ones I’d gotten from my graphic designer friend for our logo. I’d showed it to Harlan once and thought he hadn’t been paying attention. Clearly, he had. I let out the girliest squeal and he pulled over on the side of the road with a satisfied grin on his face.

“Oh Harlan! Oh my God!” I cried as I swung the door open and bolted over to touch our beautiful sign. He jumped down and rounded the truck bed. He rubbed the back of his neck coyly and his cheeks were flushed.

I walked the perimeter of the sign, dragging my fingers along it. I think I was trying to make sure it was real. The sign was not only a symbol of our brilliant future and how far we’d come since the days of broken windows and possums. It also represented the unfathomable amount of thoughtfulness my man possessed.

“I’ve been sneaking around working on it for a while. The only good thing about you being gone was I had plenty of time to install it. Simon and Michael did the lettering. I promised them a room on opening weekend in exchange. I figured you’d be okay with that.”

“Are you kidding? They can stay for a week! Harlan, this is beautiful.”

Unable to contain myself any longer, I ran to him and threw my arms around his neck. He laughed and swung me in a circle. When my feet were back on the ground I hugged him tightly. We stood there, at the side of the state highway, for what seemed like ages. My head was tucked under his chin, ear pressed to the reliable thump of his warm and caring heart. The sign, the trip home, the peace we’d made at the diner—it all seemed like all the pieces of our wonderful life together were falling into place.

“Thank you. For everything,” I said, leaning back and looking up at him.

“You’re welcome.” His smile was soft.

We walked back to the truck. Once in our seats, my heart swelled with incandescent happiness as the sun peaked out from behind a cloud, lighting up the newly leafy trees and dappling the path ahead of us.

Surrounded by the natural beauty of our home and the soulful beauty of our love, I made the mistake of thinking: just like Patty said, here’s the happily ever after I deserve.

In hindsight, I’d made the type of mistake my dad always groused about. Never call out the good that’s happening around my dad. Otherwise, he’d grumble, “Oh, so you’re pitching a no-hitter? Great.” Acknowledging the good jinxes it. Always.

I should’ve known the moment I reveled in my happiness, that within an hour everything would turn to shit.