Chase The Butterflies Read online

  “Saw me?” His confusion is clear.

  Pushing myself to continue, I take a deep breath. “Yes, last night. I was at the Outback Steakhouse, and I saw you…getting out of a car.” My confidence takes a nosedive, and the words get lost in my larynx. The silence is killing me, so I raise my eyes, afraid of what I’ll see.

  Jude’s head is tilted to the side, waiting for me to continue. But I can’t.

  “So what time should I pick you up? The movie starts at four.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, as he completely ignored my question.

  “I promised Angus I’d take him to a Harry Potter movie marathon. He’s going with a bunch of moms and kids from his school. I think he’s trying to impress a girl.” He smirks proudly. “I promised him I wouldn’t embarrass him and keep a low profile. You’re welcome to come.” But that’s not the issue. I bite my lip. Why did he just ignore me?

  “C’mon. It won’t have the awkward, first date vibe. Not that this is a first date,” he quickly backtracks.

  I suddenly feel hot.

  “’Cause we’re past that. I mean, as far as first daters go, we’re totally backward,” he rambles, rubbing a hand over his fuller beard.

  Is he at a loss for words? Jude “the smooth talker” Montgomery is tongue-tied. Now I’ve seen it all.

  “We missed all the getting to know you part and jumped straight into the deep end.” He’s right. Our first meeting wasn’t exactly conventional. None of our encounters have been, and for that, I’m glad.

  Jude has proven that he’s a loyal, thoughtful friend, and I’m going to do the same. Regardless of the fact I caught him throwing wads of cash at an older lady, it won’t change the fact that I like being his friend.

  “I mean, you got to know my son before really knowing me―”

  “I like being your friend, too.” I cut him off. His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, not expecting my admission. “I’ll meet you there around three. I want to get there early to check out the candy selection. Oh, by the way, I’m paying. And that isn’t up for discussion because that’s what friends do. They do nice things for their friends.”

  He smirks, knowing this is an argument he can’t win since it’s a line he’s used on me before.

  Touché.

  I park my car a few blocks from the cinema, wanting to walk and feel the crisp breeze against my cheeks. It’s a good day to be alive as the universe and I are somewhat in sync. It’s a nice sensation, beginning to feel like me again—version 2.0.

  For some unknown reason, I begin thinking about my family and my sister, in particular. I wonder if she’s found a sense of peace with what happened. There was no doubt she felt guilty, but was that guilt because of the act itself or because she got caught? I hate that I believe it’s the latter. I’ve missed several calls from my mom, and yes, I guess I’ve been avoiding her in a way. I just can’t deal with the “it’s time to forgive your sister” speech. That won’t happen. One day, I may be able to sit in the same room as her, but forgiveness…I don’t think I can.

  Jude is certainly more forgiving than I am because when I think about Bryan, all I can envision is running him over with my car. In a way, I envy Jude’s ability not to hold a grudge against his wife. I sense he still cares for her, but I know the love is gone. Nevertheless, it must be nice not to visualize your ex getting trampled by African elephants daily.

  As I round the corner, I’m pleased I’m not huffing and puffing like an eighty-year-old man. The daily swims have been doing me good. Each day, I’m swimming farther and farther, and before long, I have no doubt I’ll reach the other side. I wonder what will happen when I do.

  The sidewalk is surprisingly busy, but as the crowd clears, my heart does a tiny flip flop when I see two boys who look so alike, standing side by side.

  Angus is holding Jude’s hand tightly, his tiny frame only reaching below Jude’s waist. Trademark Harry Potter glasses sit loosely on his face, and in his left hand, he’s clutching a plastic wand. He looks excited and full of pride to be holding his father’s hand. Jude’s injuries are masked by a baseball cap perched low. He pulls a goofy face at Angus, who laughs happily. There is nothing but love reflected in this image—it’s innocent and pure.

  A father, his son, and…me.

  The moment Angus sees me, he lets go of Jude’s hand and runs my way. I laugh, elated he’s as delighted to see me as I am him. The moment he reaches me, I kneel, and he throws himself into my arms. The gesture is so genuine, I can’t help but smile.

  I look over his shoulder to see Jude walking toward us, smiling happily. His motorcycle boots pound against the asphalt, setting off his ripped jeans and a black fitted tee. “As you can see, my son is so shy,” he comments, tongue in cheek.

  I giggle. “Your son is amazing.”

  Angus pulls away, showing me his wand. He bops me over the head with it, his lens-free glasses sliding down his nose. “Are you turning me into a princess?” I ask.

  He looks at Jude over his shoulder and signs. I watch in interest, wondering why Jude is laughing. He explains why a second later. “He said you already are.”

  “Watch out, you’ve got a sweet talker on your hands.” I refrain from adding like father like son.

  “Don’t I know it.”

  When I stand, Angus looks up at me, then at Jude, and smiles. I wonder what he’s thinking. “You ready, buddy?” Jude says, signing and speaking aloud. It’s the first time I’ve seen Jude sign, and it’s impressive, to say the least.

  Angus nods, his smile broad and euphoric.

  A group of about twenty moms and teachers and a large number of kids begin walking into the cinema. A young girl with blonde pigtails and braces waves for Angus to come join them. He reaches for my hand and drags me inside, leaving Jude to follow.

  As we wait in line for tickets, I soak up the excitement around me. Kids run around madly, screaming Harry Potter spells to their siblings or friends. Angus watches them closely. He’s always so in tune with his surroundings.

  He looks up at me and begins signing quickly while Jude laughs. I really need to learn sign language. I’m fascinated with the way they communicate. It’s like their secret language.

  Jude messes up Angus’s hair before meeting my curious eyes. “Angus just asked how old you are because he’d like you to be his date for the annual dance at school. But he understands if you don’t want to come because he’s not a very good dancer. You don’t have to go,” he adds, and I suddenly get the feeling he doesn’t want me to attend.

  Without a second thought, I bend low and use one of the few words I’ve learned in sign.

  Yes.

  Angus’s smile lights up the room, but I frown as I watch Jude grow pale. I wonder why.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I confirm quickly. “There’s no place I’d rather be.” Jude’s face falls sentimental.

  The space around us abruptly turns silent, and I’m lost in those blue, expressive eyes. I can feel that something has shifted between us. There’s always been an undercurrent lapping at the surface, but now, I feel like I’m drowning.

  Suddenly, he breaks our heated exchange, appearing embarrassed. He doesn’t usually look away first, so what’s changed? I can’t deny that there has always been a pull between us, but something feels different this time. Jude has been cocky, flirty, but now, he seems…torn.

  I don’t have time to process his response because the doors open to cinema five, allowing everyone in to see their favorite wizard. “Did you want any candy?” Jude asks, clearing his throat.

  “No, I’m okay,” I reply, suddenly losing my appetite.

  When we silently make our way inside, we see that Shelley, the little blonde, has left three free seats next to her. Angus sits beside her, bouncing happily in his seat when Shelley offers him her popcorn. Jude and I take the end two seats. He shifts to the left to avoid touching me, but I don’t know why.

  When the previews start, it dawns on
me that without subtitles, Angus may get a little lost. I’m assuming he’ll lip read and get the general gist of what’s happening through the very animated acting, but it’s simple things we take for granted that Angus struggles with daily.

  Peering down at him, he looks up at me, his cheeks pushed out as he chews a mouthful of popcorn. He doesn’t have a care in the world. I smile, wishing I viewed the world through rose-tinted glasses too.

  Two Harry Potter movies later, Angus’s head lies nestled in my lap.

  Even though we’re in a dark room, I know Jude has been avoiding me. His body language displays his coldness—his arms are folded tight, a sure sign he doesn’t want to let me in. I’m racking my brain, desperately attempting to piece together what would have caused the sudden change of mood. Maybe he really doesn’t want me to go to the dance. I guess that’s understandable, as it’s a mommy thing to do, and I’m not Angus’s mom.

  Once we’re outside, I’ll let him know that I won’t go if it bothers him. I don’t want to overstep any boundaries or make Jude uncomfortable. As the credits roll, Jude finally meets my eyes. “I better get him home.”

  I nod, as I wasn’t expecting to stay for the entire marathon.

  He looks apprehensive to lift Angus from my lap, so I scoop an arm underneath him and cradle him against me. Jude then wraps an arm around him and lifts him like he weighs nothing at all. I instantly miss his warmth.

  It turns cold when we step outside, but I don’t know if that’s just the stale mood between us. “Where did you park?” Jude asks, holding up Angus as he’s asleep on his feet. Shelley’s mom steps out also, holding a sleeping child to her chest.

  “Just down the road.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  I can sense he’s only saying this to be polite, not because he wants to. “No, it’s fine. You better get Angus home.” He looks thankful I’ve refused.

  I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong. Things were great, and now they’re…this. It seems Jude is as confusing as I am. “Well, thanks for inviting me. I had a great time.”

  “Me too.”

  Lies.

  He shuffles his feet. “I guess I’ll see you around.” His comment sounds like a dismissal. A final farewell.

  When he makes it quite clear that he has nothing left to say, I pull back my shoulders and turn to leave. A part of me hopes he’ll stop me and apologize for being so confusing, but he doesn’t, so I walk down the sidewalk, refusing to look back.

  The walk here was refreshing, my mood so different than now. I suppose Jude has several hall passes to act a little strange from time to time, seeing as I’ve had my fair share of irrational episodes since we’ve met. But most of the time, he knew why I was acting like a complete basket case. I have no clue what’s caused this sudden change in his mood.

  All of the stores have closed for the night, leaving the street virtually deserted. The sound of my car unlocking echoes off the vacant buildings, amplifying that I’m out here alone. I toss my bag onto the passenger seat and lock the door as I slam it shut behind me. Exhaling loudly, I’m proud of myself for walking to my car and not freaking out.

  The drive home gives me ample time to think about Jude.

  I have no idea why his strange behavior bothers me so much. He’s just a friend, and if he wants to be a grumpy pants, then good luck to him. However, the longer I drive, the more annoyed I become.

  Since the moment we met, he’s come on strong—not in a romantic way, but he’s wedged himself into my life and made every effort to get to know more about me. Now that I’ve finally opened up, I feel like he’s disregarded something which was quite difficult for me to do. I actually had a good time tonight, but now I’m just pissed off.

  I’ve stewed for too many minutes and can’t be held accountable for my actions when I race down my street, past my house, and end up pulling up by Jude’s house. I don’t hesitate to kill the engine and attempt to fly out of my seat and ask him what’s going on. I give myself whiplash, though, as my seat belt is still fastened. That should be a big, fat warning that I’m being absolutely irrational and should turn around and go home, but I don’t.

  I don’t mask my annoyance as I slam the door shut and charge up his front stairs. The lights are on downstairs, so I know he’s still awake. When I climb the top step, the reality of what I’m doing kicks me in the guts, and I freeze, ashamed that I was coming here all gung-ho to ask Jude what’s going on.

  He had the decency to leave me be when I freaked out for no apparent reason, and now, I owe him that same respect. I can’t remember the last time I felt this passionate over something…someone…and it suddenly scares me.

  I care about Jude and Angus—that much is clear. But why am I so…upset? I feel like he’s broken up with me or something. A husk of horror cocoons around me when I digest that thought, and I almost face plant as I run down the steps, two at a time.

  My focus on getting to the car has me shut off to my surroundings, so when a hoarse, familiar voice says my name, I scream and trip down the last step. Thankfully, I manage to stay upright. Although, when Jude comes rushing down the stairs, I wish I’d knocked myself unconscious, so I don’t have to explain why I’m loitering in his yard.

  A cigarette hangs from his lips, explaining why he’s outside. He doesn’t hide his surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  I could lie and pretend I locked myself out, but I’m done hiding in the shadows. Charley once said this thing called living isn’t so hard, and she was right. I was afraid once, but now, I’m just annoyed.

  “I-I…” The words die in my throat as my confidence suddenly takes a nosedive. After a deep breath, I steady myself and remember how liberated I felt when setting that infernal chair alight. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Jude takes a drag from his smoke, obviously needing a nicotine hit to reply. “No, Victoria, you did nothing wrong.”

  “Then why did you run away like I was foaming at the mouth and groaning for your brains?”

  His lips twitch, but he quickly turns serious. “I needed to get Angus home.”

  “Jude, there is one thing I like most about you.” He knits his eyebrows together in intrigue, so I go on to explain. “You’ve been nothing but honest with me. Since the first moment we met, there’s been no bullshit. You’ve still wanted to be my friend, regardless of the fact I almost set you on fire and insulted you more than I care to admit. So please, don’t start lying to me now.”

  He blows out a cloud of smoke before butting out his Marlboro with his boot. Running a hand through his snarled hair, he replies, “There are things about me that you don’t know.” I open my mouth, ready to protest, but am interrupted without a second thought. “And before you go on to say that those things don’t matter, save your breath, because they do.”

  I want to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but he won’t let me speak.

  “I can’t have you in my life. In Angus’s life,” he adds. The words are like a slice to my heart. “It’s too confusing for him.”

  “Confusing? How?” My voice breaks.

  “He likes you, Victoria. I can’t allow him to get attached. What happens―”

  “What happens what?”

  He sighs. “What happens when you find out this place isn’t real? You leave. You go back to where you came from. To what you know. To whom you know.” He’s implying I’ll eventually reconcile with Bryan. “It may seem like home now, but you’ll soon discover this town is teeming with people’s broken dreams. We’re all just too afraid to leave.” How incredibly sad. Do dreams seek this town out to die? I thought it was my new beginning, but Jude seems to think it’s the equivalent to doing life without parole.

  “I will do anything to protect my son, and I know your intentions are good, but I can’t have…complications.”

  “You think I’m a complication?” I whisper, lowering my eyes.

  With two fingers, he gestures back and forth between us. “This…it’
s complicated,” is his ambiguous response.

  I should be offended, but instead, I’m hurt. I’m hurt that Jude is ending something I didn’t even know I needed. Without knowing it, he has pulled me through the toughest time of my life. I was just too blinded; wallowing in my self-pity to appreciate what was standing before me. And now that it’s being taken away, I want it more than I need air to breathe.

  What’s the point of feeding your heart if there’s no room to grow?

  “I-I should go.”

  “Victoria…wait.”

  But I can’t.

  I race to my car, needing to separate myself from Jude and his words, but halt when I hear the only sound that makes a lick of sense. “Stop.”

  Spinning around, I see Angus standing next to Jude, sleep-laden hair and heavy-eyed. I don’t dare move. Jude closes his eyes for the briefest of seconds before running a hand down his face.

  His love for Angus is immeasurable, and I know without a doubt he’d happily lay his life down for that little boy. My intentions are good, but Jude is right; I am a complication. I’m a complication because I don’t know what I feel for Jude. All I know is that it’s something more.

  Until I figure out who I am and what I want, then I have to stay away. If this is what sacrifice feels like, then I hope it’s worth the pain.

  I walk toward Angus, smiling and feigning that everything is okay. Jude places a hand on his son’s shoulder, expressing that sacrifices are actually rewards if the person is worth sacrificing for. “Hey, little wombat. You should be in bed.”

  He signs, looking up at Jude to ask him to translate. “He said he was up getting a glass of water and saw you through the window. He wanted to say good night.”

  How can someone be so innocent, so pure? Staring up at Jude, I know the answer lies before me. “Well, good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” I tickle his sides, and he giggles uncontrollably.

  He signs, nodding.

  “He asked if you’d tuck him in.”

  I ache because I know this is probably one of the only chances I’ll get to tuck anyone in. Kneeling on one knee, I say, “I’m sure Daddy is better at that than me. Besides, I have to get home and feed my cat.”