Home to Whiskey Creek (Whiskey Creek #4)(90)
Author: Brenda Novak

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“That’s bullshit!” he said, but he actually found Callie’s approach refreshing and welcomed the opportunity to react frankly. Eve, Ted, Cheyenne—the rest of them had been killing him with kindness since he got out of the hospital on Monday. They were obviously afraid the slightest misstep might push him over the edge again. He hated that.

“It’s not bullshit,” she insisted. “I’m sure that wasn’t an easy decision for him to make.”

“You think he had my best interests in mind?”

“Knowing him, I do. Embrace who you are. Once you do, everyone else will, too.” With that she started straightening up his living room.

“Stop cleaning!” he yelled.

“Nope, sorry. Makes me feel better to be doing something.”

He thought of the many times he’d done the same thing to Noah and almost laughed. “Well, it makes me feel like shit.”

“You already feel like shit.”

She had a point, so he didn’t argue. He just sat down.

“You could help,” she said when he merely watched.

“Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job.”

When she stopped working and folded her arms across her chest, he knew he was about to hear the bottom line as she saw it. “You can’t go on like this, Bax.”

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got for me?”

“That’s it.”

“What else am I supposed to do, Cal?”

“You only have one choice—pull your shit together.”

For the first time, he heard anger in her voice and couldn’t help bristling. “Easy for you to say.”

“No, it’s not easy for me to say. After what I went through last summer, I know how precious every minute should be. I didn’t fight for my life so you could throw yours away. Dark times only last if you let them. Pick yourself up and reconnect with the people and things you care about.”

“I care about Noah.” He missed his best friend, missed knowing they were okay. It had been hard the past few days, hearing what was going on with the Rackhams and wondering how Noah was handling it.

Her lips curved into an understanding smile. “Then call him.”

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can.” She brought his phone from where he’d left it on the counter. He had a slew of calls he hadn’t returned, from friends and clients. And a whole list of texts.

“He’s dying to hear from you,” she said. “Just because he doesn’t want to have sex with you doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. Rebuild a relationship with him—one you can both live with.”

He stared at his “favorites” list on his phone. “And my father?”

“He’s got some adjustments to make, some apologies, too. But he’ll come around.”

30

Baxter was nervous as he dialed Noah’s number. He felt so fragile, wasn’t sure he could handle the emotions hearing Noah’s voice would evoke. But staying away from him wasn’t easy, either. Their group of friends had been together since grade school, and the events of the past two weeks had upset them all—like a beehive that’d been struck and was suddenly in chaos.

“Bax, is it really you?”

He couldn’t help smiling at Noah’s relief. “Yeah, it’s me. You okay?”

“I’ve had a shitty week, but no worse than you.”

As Baxter looked around his house, he felt as if he was seeing it for the first time in a long while. “We’ve both had better.”

“I’m sorry,” Noah said. “I’m sure you know this by now, but I’m the one who told your parents. I didn’t do it because I was trying to hurt you, though. I hope you believe that.”

Callie was watching him a little too closely. Baxter waved her off to let her know she could quit worrying. “I do,” he said. “Maybe it was time for the truth. And maybe it’ll be for the best. I’m not sure I would’ve been able to summon up the nerve. The look on my father’s face when you told him—” he winced, imagining what that had been like “—it must’ve been pretty bad.”

“Your mom seems to be handling it better.”

Baxter guessed he’d been right about his father when Noah dodged the question like that. “She’s come to see me a couple of times.”

“But not your father.”

“Not yet.”

“I feel bad, Bax. I really do.”

Baxter rested his head on the back of the couch. He’d thought this call would be difficult, but the familiarity of talking to someone who’d been such a big part of his life more than compensated for any awkwardness. He just wished he hadn’t kissed Noah. He was embarrassed he’d taken it so far. “It’s okay. I’ll survive.”

“You scared the shit out of us. You won’t do anything like that again, will you?”

Baxter didn’t want to address his suicide attempt. He couldn’t even say why he’d done it. He’d just been so desperate for a way out. “I won’t, no.” He couldn’t promise too much at this point, but he owed his friends some reassurance. “I’m going to make some changes that should…help,” he finished simply.

“Like therapy?”

“And moving away from Whiskey Creek until I can figure out who I am and who I want to be.”

“We’ll miss you.”

“I won’t be that far,” he said, but he knew what Noah meant. The distance was already there. “And we’re getting older. Change happens.”

“That doesn’t mean it has to be a bad thing.”

“True.” Eager to drop that topic, Baxter moved on. “I owe you an apology for how I behaved at the cabin—”

“Forget it. There’s no need to discuss that. I was an idiot for dragging you up there.”

Relieved to be able to put that subject behind him, too, Baxter drew a deep breath. “So…how are things with your family?”

“I’m getting along with my parents about as well as you’re getting along with yours,” he said with a rueful laugh.

Baxter smiled at Callie, who sat down next to him, put her arms around him and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Do you really believe Cody raped Adelaide, Noah?”

There was a long pause. “I don’t want to, but…”