“Yeah,” she said on a laugh. “Yeah, there definitely is.”
Eric felt his smile fade. “What’s wrong?” He wished he was still in her bed, talking to her about this. Wished they could just be quiet and serious together. But she didn’t trust him, and as the silence grew, he knew she wasn’t going to answer.
“I wish we could start over,” he said softly. “You can trust me. Everyone counts on me, you know.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t trust anybody,” she said.
It could have sounded like bravado or defensiveness. But Eric heard the quiet truth in the words. “Why?”
He heard movement on her end, the ebb and flow of sound as if she was walking, then he heard a door open and quiet birdsong floated through the phone. Beth sighed. “Because you can’t ever really trust anyone, can you?”
Eric closed his eyes and paged through his memories, trying to find a way to convince her. But maybe she was right. He loved his sister, but she’d told him plenty of lies, trying to protect him. And Jamie—they’d been brothers for twenty-nine years, yet sometimes Eric felt that he hardly knew Jamie at all. But there were some people who never faltered. “Your dad,” he said. “He’s someone you can trust.”
She was quiet for a dozen heartbeats. Birds trilled their daylight songs. Eric was just starting to smile, thinking he may have convinced her, when she let her breath out on a quiet sigh. “No,” she whispered. “Not even him.”
His heart stuttered at the sadness in her voice. Eric didn’t understand. He thought of the polite man he’d met. The man who’d held Beth’s hand and gone to so much trouble to bring his wife just the dessert she’d wanted. “What do you mean?” But he knew she wouldn’t answer. She was telling him that she couldn’t.
“Who do you trust?” she asked instead.
“I trusted my mom,” he answered with complete honesty. “And I trusted Michael Donovan.”
“Michael Donovan? Your dad?”
“Yes. My dad.” Not his father, but his dad. The only real dad he’d ever had.
“Was he a good guy?”
“The best.”
“You said it was a car accident?”
Eric opened his eyes and stared at the far wall of his office. “Yes. They were both killed instantly.”
“And afterward, you stepped in?”
“I tried.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
“It was…” Eric tried to find the right words. He always knew what to say about it, knew how to deflect attention away, because for years everyone in Boulder had known the story. Everyone had known who Eric was trying to fill in for and how impossible it was, for so many reasons. “It was…” It was what had needed to be done. What his brother and sister had needed. What had been expected, even as people pretended it was heroic. It was… “Terrifying,” he finally said.
“I’m sure,” Beth responded as if he’d said something perfectly normal.
But she didn’t understand what he meant. Sure, he’d been scared he would screw things up. But more than that… “I wished there was somebody else. Anybody else.” Jesus. He’d said it. He’d finally said it. The truth. The words hovered out there, just past his mouth. He could feel them waiting to crash around him. “I didn’t want to take any of it on. My sister heard me say that once, when she was young. So maybe you’re right.”
“About what?” she whispered.
“I was supposed to save her, but I became just another person she couldn’t trust.”
“That’s not true,” she said. “You did your best.”
“We’re all doing our best.”
“Oh, Eric,” she said with a small, sad laugh. “That’s absolutely not true. And I might not trust you, but I can tell you’re a nice guy when you say things like that.”
Nothing had crashed. She hadn’t run away screaming. She still thought he was a nice guy.
Beth Cantrell was a fool, but he liked her. A lot.