Not Quite Forever
Page 45

The traffic rolling by distracted her. There were plenty of cars on the freeways at home, but nothing like this.
“Dakota?”
“Yeah?”
“I asked when you thought you’d be back?”
They turned into the departing terminal ramp.
“I-I don’t know.” She offered a humorous laugh. “Seven and a half months.”
“You’re kidding.”
Mary snagged a spot against the curb and pulled in. They both moved behind the car and removed her luggage.
Dakota embraced her friend. “Thank you for keeping my secrets.”
Mary pulled away, narrowed her eyes. “Not telling Walt where you are will be a pleasure. The jerk.”
Dakota hugged her again and whispered in her ear, “I’m pregnant.”
Mary sucked in a breath, drew away.
Lifting a finger to her lips, Dakota said, “Shh!”
“Oh, hon.”
Car horns started to honk and airport security started walking their way. “Better go. Don’t want a ticket.”
Mary moved around the car. “I’m calling you tomorrow. We’re going to talk about this.”
Yeah, but Dakota could actually avoid that call from thousands of miles away.
Lost in her thoughts, Dakota stood at the curb until another car skidded into the spot.
She half expected to see Walt jumping from the town car. When a family of four emerged from the back with one toddler and another preteen, Dakota dragged her luggage behind her.
If Walt didn’t calm down, his blood pressure was going to go ape-shit crazy or he’d crash his car from a lack of paying attention.
She hadn’t answered her phone, didn’t return his calls.
He couldn’t blame her. He’d been an ass.
Although he wasn’t sure what to do about the rampant emotions inside him, he knew that distance and time away from Dakota only made him feel worse.
If she wanted to ignore him, she’d have to do it with him on her doorstep.
She’d shown up at his place of work, he justified. So he’d just show up at hers.
It was past six and the wind was blowing in off the ocean, making the air chill as he pushed out of his car and jogged up the path to her front door. He ran both hands through his hair and rang the bell.
He rang it a second time and looked over the peekaboo window into the house. No movement. He knocked and called her name.
Nothing.
There were windows lighting up the garage, he moved to them and looked inside. Her car sat dormant.
So she wants to ignore me.
A light went on in the window above the garage.
He smiled, returned to the door.
After a quick rap, he leaned close. “I know you’re home, Dakota. We need to talk.”
Nothing.
“I’m not going to leave.”
Still nothing.
“I fucked up.”
When all he heard was silence, he leaned his forehead against the door.
“You sure as hell did.”
He jumped and turned.
Mary.
“Can you talk to her?” he asked, motioning toward the door.
“Why should I talk when avoiding is so much more effective?” Mary tucked a long string of her wavy blonde hair behind her ear.
“What I need to say I need to say to Dakota.”
Mary crossed her arms over her chest and grinned.
Giving up on her, he pounded on the door again. “Dakota?”
Mary started to laugh. “Where is my cell phone when I need it?”
He knocked again.
“She’s not home, Walter.”
“I saw a light go on.”
Mary lowered her voice. “Automatic lighting.”
Walt gave Mary his full attention.
“I dropped her off at the airport at noon.”
He frowned and his heart dropped. She’s gone? “Conference?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Her publisher?”
“Might be.”
“Her agent?”
“Desi is demanding.”
“Damn it, Mary.”
Mary snarled. “Damn it, Walt.”
He stepped close to Dakota’s best friend. “High altitude and high blood pressure aren’t a great combination.”
The smirk on Mary’s face fell.
“Sparks nosebleeds.”
Mary throat contracted. “Why do you care? You dumped her.”
“I didn’t dump her.”
“Ignored her. Same thing.”
At that very moment, Walt hated that women were so open with each other.
“Tell me where she went.”
Mary offered a full-throat laugh. “Give me one good reason.”
He hesitated and lost his chance.
“Well, Walt, Chinese water torture won’t bring forth where Dakota flew off to. You might as well go home.” Mary turned to leave.
“She won’t answer my calls.”
“Smart woman. Talking to a douche bag is a waste of her time.”
He jogged in front of Mary, stopped her in the middle of the residential street. The reality that he might not be able to contact Dakota left him breathless. Scared. Wait! Mary was a psychologist, or some such thing . . .
“I was scared.”
She moved around him, kept walking. “Come back when you have more than that, Walt.”
“Tell her I was here,” he called out after her.
“And prolong her misery? I don’t think so. I love her too much for that.”