My apologies on the long wait for this. The last few weeks of major projects for the summer masters session kicked my butt. Now that I have a short break before the fall term, hopefully I'll have more time to update! Thank you to everyone reading!
Chapter 11
By the time Evie made it downstairs the following morning, after a night full of tossing and turning and questioning her life choices, she was ready to do anything but work on any more cleaning out of her father's things. Working on it would only make her feel worse, she was sure of it, but there wasn't much else she could do out here in the middle of nowhere. Her choices were to either get in Steve's way or drive into town and try to find something interesting to do. But even then, it would be shopping at the tiny mall or hanging out at the local watering hole; neither option appealed to her.
So instead of doing any of that, she made herself some coffee and retreated to the family room. There she sat in the relative silence of the room, staring at the woven Navajo rug displayed over the old box television. It was bright and cheery in its red, brown and black geometric pattern, completely incongruent to the sparseness of the rest of her father's tendency toward little decoration. She sighed and shifted her eyes around the room. Little had changed since she'd last been here, but for the newness of some of the furniture. The room was a comfortable living space that could have been even more warm and inviting with some additional Southwestern artwork on the walls.
The front door opening and slamming shut startled her out of the unproductive thoughts. "Hel-lo!" sang Charlie's mellifluous voice. Already Evie knew she would be too sickeningly happy to deal with today, but it was too late to try to escape her now.
Her friend appeared in the doorway and stopped dead in her tracks, her smile dropping and her face transforming into a look of consternation. "Why are you sitting all alone in a dark room?"
Evie shrugged. "Just thinking."
Charlie sighed and flicked the switch near her on. The ceiling fan light illuminated the space instantly. Charlie's frown only deepened. "What's wrong?"
"I didn't sleep well," she replied. "Too much on my mind."
"What the hell happened after I left you last night?" Charlie plopped onto the couch beside her and placed her purse on the coffee table.
"Nothing happened," Evie said.
Charlie was unconvinced. "You're lying to me."
"Nothing happened!" Evie replied. She stood up resolutely and left the room in search of one of the empty packing boxes they'd put together a few days ago. When she returned, Charlie was still sitting on the couch and didn't say anything, simply watching her with inquisitive dark eyes. It was the anthropologist in Charlie that made her curious. "Stop looking at me like I'm a case study."
Charlie scoffed. "I'm not looking at you like that."
"Yes, you are," Evie replied and went to a bookshelf. There she began removing and tossing the knickknacks, magazines—anything she could get her hands on—into the box. She only became angrier as each article went into it.
Her friend carefully stood and joined her side. She reached out, placing a hand on her arm to still her for a moment. "Evie, stop. Come talk to me."
"I don't want to talk," she said. "I want to do this."
She tossed in a picture frame that shattered on impact.
"Evie!" Charlie's demeanor suddenly turned from soft to hard. "Stop it! Just tell me what the bloody hell's happened to you since last night."
Evie pushed away from her and continued tossing.
"Did something happen with Steve?" she asked carefully.
"What? No!" Evie replied.
Charlie's face lit up for a moment, obviously believing she had found the reason behind this attitude. "Your words say one thing, your body language another."
"Nothing happened with Steve," she said. "And nothing ever will happen with him. Quit badgering me about it."
"Ah," Charlie said and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do you say that?"
"Because it won't," Evie replied.
"But you wanted something to happen. I mean, not last night… but you were considering it."
Evie paused for a brief moment, but didn't dignify her words with a response.
"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain girl that Steve is still pining after, would it?"
"No, it has nothing to do with that," Evie said.
Charlie's expression was one of disbelief.
"How do you even know about that?"
"Donald told me," Charlie replied.
"What? We're off the Thor bit now?"
Charlie shrugged. "Thor will be reserved for very special occasions. You're changing the subject."
Evie rolled her eyes and turned to the VHS tapes and DVDs on the current shelf she was working on.
Charlie didn't leave, though. "So, it's not about her."
"No, it's not," Evie replied.
Charlie said nothing else and walked back over to the couch and sat down. Evie considered her for a moment, but turned back to her work.
After a little while, Evie felt the rage rising within her to such a point that it could no longer be contained. It was going to come out whether she wanted it to or not. Despite the therapeutic effect of throwing and breaking things, she had to let it loose eventually.
"You know what my problem is?" Evie asked.
"No, I don't know what your problem is, seeing as you refuse to tell me." Charlie's voice was droll.
Evie huffed. "My problem is that everyone on this fucking planet seems to have someone to care or worry about them, but I have no one."
Charlie flinched at her words; Evie knew what she'd said had hurt her. Of course Charlie had always been there for her. Instead of commenting, though, Charlie just sat back and allowed her to continue.
"I have no one!" Evie exclaimed. "No one who loves me like… like Steve loved his girlfriend. It's been how long and he still misses her? What's it like to be in love like that? What's it like to know that someone loves you like that? That they would do anything to have you back? I just don't know."
Charlie watched her.
"And it's not even that! I don't even matter to the people in my life that should care!" Evie said. "My mother still hasn't contacted me despite my efforts to let her know about all this. My dad pretty much abandoned me for years on end because he was too concerned about other people and not his own fucking daughter."
Evie tossed another armful of books into the box. Hot, angry tears were falling down her cheeks. She paused for just a moment to wipe at them, but doing so didn't stop them.
"Who am I ever going to have when I die? Who will ever love me so much that they remember and care about me so many years later?"
Charlie got up and came over again, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Evie, love, please just stop for a minute and take a breath."
Evie separated from the shelves and turned to Charlie. "I just can't do it, Charlie." She lifted the small disc she had found with a sticky note and her name. It was her father's writing. "I just can't take this breadcrumb shit any more… like coming across albums and photos and videos are going to make me feel fucking loved. Like it's going to make it all better between us. He wasn't there. He was never there. And it just makes me so… fucking…angry! A-and scared and lonely…"
Charlie tore the disc case from her hand and set it aside, pulling Evie bodily away from the shelves. She took her face between her hands, forcing Evie to look at her. "Evie, you're not alone. My god… I don't know what brought all this up today… but you're not alone. I love you. You are my sister more than my friend. Don't ever think you are alone, because you aren't. Yes, I know I'm not your mum or your dad or some idiot boyfriend. But I'm here for you. I flew halfway across the globe to be here for you. Don't you see that?"
Evie nodded her head feebly. "I know… I-I'm sorry…"
Charlie hugged her tight against her body, rocking slightly as she would a small child who needed comfort. Evie accepted it, though. She knew Charlie would never willingly abandon her like all the others had, but sometimes it was just nice to hear it from her.
"Babe, I'm not going anywhere," Charlie said again. "I'll be right here for you. I promise."
Evie sighed heavily and pulled away, wiping at her eyes. "God, what am I turning into? It seems like all I do is cry these days."
"You're grieving, Evie," Charlie replied. "It's expected. If we're going by the Kübler-Ross model, I'd say we just experienced anger."
Evie couldn't contain a watery laugh. "Oh, we're descending into the namby-pamby world of psychology, are we?"
"If it makes you laugh and puts it into perspective, then we bloody well are," she said.
"It does," Evie replied and placed her hands on her hips. She looked at the disaster she had created in the box before she glanced back at Charlie. "Will you help me?"
"Of course I will," she said. "And tonight you and I are going to town and getting drunk. Deal?"
Evie sighed. "Yes. It's the best idea you've had since you arrived."
"Good." Charlie knelt down to begin organizing the disaster box.
Steve carefully moved away from the living room window when he could no longer hear the voices within clearly. He knew he shouldn't have stopped to listen into a private conversation that turned into an argument, but his curiosity had been piqued the instant he realized they were talking about his relationship with Peggy. At first, he'd been irritated that Donald had said something the Charlie about it, and then that Evie brought it up to Charlie, but it quickly dissipated as Evie's rant continued.
He felt somewhat responsible for disturbing Evie so deeply last night with the tale of his life, but she had seemed receptive to it and he had appreciated the fact that he could talk to someone who wasn't a guy. It was nice to have a woman's perspective on it after so long. He knew he'd affected her in some way before he'd left, but he didn't realize the conversation had hurt her as much as it did. Not until now.
The sheer anger and spite in the words she spoke about her father and mother were painful for him to hear, especially when he held one of those people in such high esteem. Phil had been a pseudo father to him since he had come to the ranch. He'd been a friend and confidant. The man had truly looked after him as though he'd been a son; all the while he had obviously severely neglected his relationship with his actual child. Steve had always thought Phil didn't hear from her because it was her issue and not Phil's, but as the days passed he began to question that. Now it was confirmed for him. Certainly Evie wasn't innocent in this, but Phil hadn't tried either. He'd willingly left his daughter. No matter how much he may have said he loved her, it didn't seem to negate the fact that he had left her to a woman who obviously had not properly cared for their daughter.
It pissed him off, probably more than was strictly acceptable to feel about the situation. No person—no child—deserved to be abandoned by one parent and emotionally neglected by another. It wasn't right, and it was this issue more than anything that made his heart ache for Evie.
He marched back to the barn to replace the shovel he'd been using to dig up a dead plant near the window. The resentment coursing through him seemed alien and he hated that he was feeling like this about Phil, but Steve supposed it was probably good for him to realize it. He'd been blinded by a sort of hero-worship he had not noticed in all his time here at the ranch. Of course, he still very much respected the man for other things he had done with his life, but his overabundance of involvement in the community and in Project Rebirth seemed like he was trying to make up for the fact that he'd abandoned his child.
It also made him stop, just for a split second, to consider his own woes. For some reason, he just couldn't conjure the same misery he had been able to for the past eleven or so years at being without parents, Bucky or Peggy. Not once when they'd been alive had he questioned their love for him. They'd all been torn from his life too soon, but he knew none of them had gone willingly. The people in Evie's life—at least those that should have loved her unconditionally—had ignored her. Damaged her. They had chosen to do this.
From what it sounded like in the various bits of conversation between her and Charlie over the past few days, it had also inadvertently made her move from relationship to relationship with the wrong sorts of guys looking, as an adult, for that connection that had been denied to her as a child. Last night, she'd said she'd never been in love. He'd thought it strange. But now he understood why she hadn't. She didn't know how to love or care for someone, nor did she know when someone felt the same about her.
He felt that he finally understood her. He understood why she had acted the way she had at the memorial services. Or why she said and did certain things. If others knew this, they certainly wouldn't be looking at her as critically. They would know why it was so painful for her to come out to Arizona, deal with all of this, and then be confronted with all of the people Phil had positively affected in his life. It was like a slap in the face. But he wouldn't tell anyone. It wasn't his right. It was her own pain and if she wanted to explain it to them, she could.
Yet, he also knew he wasn't supposed to have been privy to this information. As far as she knew, only Charlie had witnessed that outburst. He questioned how he was going to let her know he had heard without her getting angry, because he sure as hell did not view her in the same light. She'd know something had changed since they had left each other last night.
Steve sighed heavily and rested his palms flat on the work bench in front of him. He felt exhausted all of a sudden, like energy had been sapped from him. Apparently that's what happened when the axis of the world shifted just a little bit and things started to look different. His problems seemed foolish now. He had loved and been loved, and there was absolutely no reason he shouldn't move on with that happy thought in his head. He just wished it were as easy to convince his heart.
Maybe hearing this was what he needed. Maybe he had to hear another story to realize it was time for him to grow up and move on. It'd been eleven years. More than enough time to heal. Living a cloistered, sheltered life out here at the ranch wasn't going to help anyone, least of all him. Like Donald had said yesterday, it wasn't healthy to remain as he had. He had to move on.
Maybe it was only fear keeping him in his place. Fear of forgetting about Peggy and what she had added to his life while they were together. Fear of possibly never finding someone else that could love him as she had loved him. Whatever it was, he realized quite suddenly, he was ready to move on. Slowly, of course, but he would try.
"You okay, Cap?"
Steve straightened and looked around him, finding Carlos and Stan watching him curiously. He nodded. "I'm good. Just thinking about all we've got to do before Friday."
"We just finished cleaning up the little pasture for the rides," Carlos said. "All we have are little things left."
"That's great," Steve said. "Just keep plucking away at the list. I'm going to go in and do some paperwork."
Carlos and Stan nodded, walking off in the other direction to begin their next task. He sighed heavily and looked around him again. He really didn't want to do paperwork, but it had to be done. His monthly reports were due by in a week and he hadn't started on any of them.
As he started out of the barn and walked toward his apartment, the front door to the house opened up and Evie stepped outside, dropping a big cardboard box on the front stoop. Whatever was inside was obviously what she had been breaking during her rant. She righted herself, dusted off her hands and placed them on her hips as though it was a job well done and a load off her mind. As she turned to go back in the house, she caught sight of him and waved.
"Hey, Steve!" she called, motioning for him to come over.
Like an obedient dog, he went. "Yeah?"
"I just wanted to see if you wanted the rest of the apple cake," Evie said. "Neither Charlie or I are going to finish it and since you liked it so much, I thought I'd offer it to you."
"Oh, yeah, sure," he said with a laugh.
Evie smiled. "Great, I'll bring it out. Hold on."
She disappeared inside the house and he stepped up the two steps onto the front porch to wait for her. Evie reappeared with a plastic container filled with the dessert. He could see evidence of her crying, though he knew the crying he heard hadn't been the cause of such bloodshot eyes. These were only the type of eyes that came with crying for quite some time. His heart broke for her as he took the container from her hand.
"What is it?" she asked. "Do I have something on my face?"
"Uh, no." He quickly shook his head and chuckled nervously. "Your face is perfect. What I mean to say… is…"
Evie laughed. "Well, aren't you sweet… but I know what you're trying to say."
"Alright. I'm going in to do paperwork," he said. "If you need me, you know where to find me."
"Great," she replied, smiled and turned to go back inside the house.
When she shut the door, he left the porch and started for his apartment where he'd try to do paperwork. But he knew his mind was going to be on everything else but paperwork.
