Page 58 of I Need You

“No,” Arthur says.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “Now, I’ll ask you to leave my house. And you can tell Aubrey that Pastor Johnson is very disappointed in her.”

And, with that, he leaves the room without another word. Aubrey’s mom stands and points toward the door, making it very clear she’s on the side of her husband and wants me out of their house. I stand and make my way to the front door, but stop just before exiting the house.

“Look, this doesn’t mean I’m giving up. The property is for sale, and I want to buy it. I just thought I’d come to you first,” I say and turn to leave the house.

Aubrey’s mom doesn’t say a word in response or stop me from getting in my car and leaving. She does, however, stand in the doorway and watch me as I leave.

As I drive away, I make several calls. I call each of my parents, and then I call the realtor listed on the sign that started this whole mess, a woman named Mary Johnson. I only pause briefly to ruminate on the fact that this realtor and the pastor of the farce Aubrey’s parents call a church have the same last name.

Mary herself doesn’t answer. Instead, her receptionist takes my call. I still get a sinking feeling that my call is not unexpected when I give the receptionist my name and she puts me on an excruciating long hold. When she does finally get back on the line, she asks if I can meet Mary at a building address in Sheridan. I agree without question.

The building I pull up to looks like a huge warehouse from the outside, but when I get closer to the front door, I notice an interesting logo etched onto the glass window. It’s a capital letter J intertwined with a cross. When I pull on the handle, the door doesn’t budge. I lift my hand to knock, but notice a black call button with a camera on the wall next to the door. I press the button and wait.

“Emmett Coulter?” a woman’s voice says through the black box.

I clear my throat.

“Yes. I’m here to see Mary Johnson,” I say.

I hear a loud buzzing and then a clicking noise coming from the door. I pull on the handle and this time it opens easily. When I make it inside, I find myself in a foyer with bright white carpet and dim lighting. A woman sits behind a large desk who can’t be much older than I am.

“Mary Johnson?” I ask, my eyes squinting to see the woman.

The woman doesn’t say anything but points down a hallway to my left. I nod to her and start down the hallway. The hallway is just as dimly lit as the reception room I came into. There are photos all along the walls and the same man appears in them over and over. I wonder if he owns the real estate agency. There’s only one door in the hallway, at the very end. It’s open and I hesitantly make my way through it.

When I do, there’s a man standing in front of a large, expensive looking desk in a suit. The same man from all the photos in the hallway.

Chapter twenty-four

Aubrey

I’mtryingnottofreak out when Emmett isn’t at tutoring the next morning. The logical part of my brain knows he doesn’t even need tutoring, and he’s probably just busy with family stuff or something like that. I don’t know why I didn’t immediately tell him about my run in with Pastor Johnson. Maybe because I’m worried Emmett will want to strangle him and that may just make things worse. I can only hope that it was a one time occurrence and I can forget it even happened.

“Aubrey, where’s your boyfriend?” a football player named Jordan asks me.

I scoff at him and turn my attention to another player, Michael, who’s struggling his way through a calculus assignment.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, Jordan,” I say, not looking up at him.

“Are you sure about that?” Michael asks me.

I know they’re talking about Emmett, but I feign innocence anyway. Emmett is not my boyfriend. How can someone be my boyfriend without ever kissing me or without me knowing he’s my boyfriend? The absurdity of nearly being on the verge of a forced marriage, to someone I hardly knew, brings up thoughts of my parents.

I still haven’t turned on my old phone. For all I know, when I turn it on, it won’t even have a service plan anymore. I’m sure the minute my parents realized I left, they did everything they could to erase me from their lives. Now that I know at least Pastor Johnson knows where I am, I’m more convinced my parents don’t care about my well being. They just care about their reputation and status in the church. I even wonder sometimes if they’ve worked with Pastor Johnson and made up a story about where I’ve disappeared to the way other families have done when children have abandoned the church.

A few years ago, I remember a boy named Aiden’s parents told everyone that he died in a car accident. I later saw him outside a restaurant in Sheridan and realized the lie his parents had told. I almost didn’t recognize him. He blended in perfectly with the group of people he was with. It was a group of young adults that clearly weren’t church members. He looked happy.

It was around the time I had really started to question everything I knew and had been taught by my parents and the church. I remember it was the first time I felt a glimmer of hope. A realization had washed over me that maybe, just maybe, there was life and happiness outside the church.

I get the guys focused back on their assignments for the remainder of the tutoring session. When it’s time to leave, I shove all my own books into my backpack and make my way toward the moped parked along the curb outside. I try to fit in as much homework of my own during the tutoring sessions as I can. Against advice from literally everyone, I took on a full course load and I’m determined to prove I didn’t make a mistake.

I already feel like I’m behind most of my peers in so many social ways. I want to be able to keep up academically. That means cramming in homework and studying every chance I can get. I’ll have a little extra time these next few weeks while Bea has the bakery closed. I’m looking forward to the extra room in my schedule, not so much looking forward to losing the money I would have made. Thankfully, I’ve still got a nest egg in the bank. Especially since when Emmett and I are together, he refuses to let me pay for anything. Today I’m getting in a few extra hours at the shop, which helps.

After I finished my normal few hours of deliveries Bea asked me to help deep clean the bakery, and she’s even paying me more than my normal wage. I think she feels bad about the hours I’m going to lose. It’s been fun and honestly, I probably would have helped her for free. We’ve been doing more listening to music and dancing around the shop than anything else, really. I’ve finally finished scrubbing the last baseboard when Bea asks me if I want to see something.

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