Only a Breath Apart

by Katie McGarry

  Glory fills her teakettle with water, sets it on the back burner of the stove, then lays out three china cups with saucers on the counter. “It’s about time you kissed Scarlett. You’ve been wanting to do that forever. But it’s better you waited. It’s not like a boy knows how to give a girl the proper toe-curling first kiss she deserves before he grows facial hair.”

  She sits in the chair across from me at the table and gives me a smug smirk. “Don’t try to deny it, Jesse. The proof is all over your face.”

  I lean back in my seat and cross my arms. “Are you stalking me? Her? Or both of us?”

  “I don’t have to stalk you. I have angels who like to do it for me. But don’t worry, no one was there for your first kiss. My spirits caught the giddiness of young love radiating off the both of you last night. If it makes you feel better, Scarlett couldn’t go to sleep for a few hours either because she was thinking of you, too.”

  I have to look away because hearing that does worm its way into my heart, and I don’t want Glory there. Letting Scarlett in is hard enough, but I can’t keep her out. Fighting it was futile. I tried protecting her from me before, and that backfired. Now, I have to change tactics to protect us both. “I have to keep this land.”

  The land will protect me and it will protect Scarlett. Since we’re together now and I’m not giving her up again, retaining ownership of the land is the only way to keep her safe from the Lachlin curse. Is it real? Is it not real? I don’t know, but I’m not taking chances. Not with Scarlett.

  “So you’re going to build a relationship with Marshall to win his vote.”

  “The pastor won’t give me his vote unless I make nice with Marshall. This vote will be all or nothing.” Sucks, but it’s how it is.

  “Why bring Marshall here?” Glory asks. “He doesn’t like me.”

  “Being alone with him doesn’t sound like a good option. Going to his home turf with his family is unfair on my side. I’m relying on you to switch subjects or to kick me under the table if I go rogue.”

  “I’m to play referee?”

  “Yeah, and I’m betting he doesn’t like you more than he doesn’t like me.”

  Glory laughs. Long, loud and hard. Enough that it feels good when I chuckle along with her. Steam shoots out of the teapot, and she returns to the stove. She pours the hot water into two cups then slips a basket of tea bags to the middle of the table. Dropping the bag she chose into her tea, she returns to her seat and draws her feet onto the chair. “You’re going to need to be careful with Scarlett. Her life is complicated.”

  “I know.” Scarlett and I talked last night. She explained her home life and her fears, and I told her that I didn’t need to be the boy holding her hand in the hallway. I’m not a dog that needs to piss on a fire hydrant to mark that she’s mine. If being with me—someone not on her father’s approved list—creates problems, then we don’t go public. “Thanks for helping her.”

  “I need you to come by with her sometime this week. She needs to practice reading palms. I’d prefer for her to use someone else, as reading you is like assigning advanced calculus to a kindergartener, but considering she’s keeping so secret on things, you’ll have to do.”

  “You’re teaching her how to be a con? I didn’t know there was a mentoring program.”

  “I like giving back. Good karma and all. And not that you’d know, but Scarlett has great potential. I’ve seen it in her since she was a child. She has a special connection with the land, and she has gifts that can’t be taught. She has closed off her abilities because that is what society has told her to do. The benefit of being friends with you is that her little acts of rebellion are opening up her senses. She has the makings of being a great psychic should she choose.”

  I don’t say anything because I’m not going to complain if Glory teaches Scarlett how to make a few extra bucks by conning until she can settle down with a real job. Money is money, especially when you’re hungry.

  “You don’t believe she has talent, do you?” Glory raises her cup to her mouth.

  “I believe she has plenty of talents.”

  “You perplex me. Always have. How you can believe you are cursed yet not believe in anything else baffles me.” She sets her teacup on the saucer and meets my eyes in defiance.

  A muscle ticks in my jaw at what she’s inferred. “I don’t believe in the Lachlin curse.” At least not the curse she believes in. I’m not going to lose what I love. I’ll break this curse by keeping the land and staying.

  “You can call it a water chicken all you want, but when it waddles like a duck and quacks like a duck, it’s still a duck. A curse is a curse—you give it a different name.”

  “You’re a lunatic.”

  “Listen to me good, Jesse. There’s a curse, and it’s real. Someday, you’re going to have to make a choice as to whether or not you’re strong enough to defeat it.”

  Anger leaks into my blood, and I point at her. “If it’s real, if I believe, if you believe, then stop talking in circles and help me. If you’re all-knowing, if you’re psychic and talk to spirits beyond the dead, then you tell me how to defeat the curse. Scarlett’s in my life now, and I need to know how to keep her safe!”

  “I am helping you.” Glory looks at me as if she’s amused, and it makes me want to smash my fist through the windowpane.

  Rocks crackle outside along with the sound of a motor purring. Marshall’s here and Glory stands. She keeps her faded blue eyes on me as she walks past. I hate her faraway expression. The one that’s supposed to make me think she’s seeing more than she should.

  “I’m helping you by creating the best weapon—to be honest, your only weapon. This family has been cursed for hundreds of years. It took all that time for someone to be born who could break the curse, but it finally happened. This means you have a chance to do what no Lachlin has ever done before. If you have courage, you have a chance to be free.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Her mouth edges up in a daring smile. “Scarlett felt the land breathe, didn’t she?”

  Blood drains from my face. There’s no way anyone knows about that beyond me and Scarlett.

  “There are only two other people alive who have felt this land breathe, and we’re both in this kitchen. Scarlett was born on the land, she has a connection with you, with me, and when she laid down on the earth, it came alive for her when it breathes for nobody else.

  “Even if you don’t want to admit it, you two have always been connected. After what happened to your mom that bond scared you, and I don’t blame you for that. You pushed Scarlett away in what you believed was an attempt to protect her, but you can’t stop fate. Pushing her away only hurts you and devastates her. Your bond, even when you tried, can’t be severed.”

  “She was born on the land, but she’s not cursed,” I say with finality.

  “No,” Glory says, “she’s not. But you are and so am I. Whether I want it or not, our destinies are intertwined. I’ve searched my future and yours. If you lose all that you love, then so do I. I don’t know the exact role Scarlett plays in all this, but I do know that if she becomes strong enough and you become strong enough then you can break the curse.”

  A knock on the front door and neither of us moves to let my uncle in. My brain swims. This isn’t real. None of this is real.

  “At Scarlett’s earliest convenience, please bring her by. She has a lot to learn and not much time to do it.” Glory heads for the door, but I stop her.

  “The vote isn’t until May,” I say. “We have time.”

  Glory glances at me over her shoulder, and the sadness washing over her punches me hard in the gut. “Both of you will be tested before May. I don’t know when, but it will be soon. I need to make sure that you will be strong enough because that’s what the two of you will need—strength, not for yourselves, but strength to give the other. You will both be drained by what’s ahead. You will be left empty, and you will need to trust the other enough in order to
survive. Nothing about this will be easy.”

  Another knock on the front door, and I slump in my seat. “None of what you say is real.”

  “Not all of it,” she says. “Just the true and important parts.”

  SCARLETT

  Last thing I want to do is leave my room. If I stay in bed I can continue to close my eyes and relive my night with Jesse. His hands on my body, his lips on mine, the perfection of his land that breathes. The memory causes my pulse to quicken, my skin to flush, and I’m torn between lying still and sprinting across the road to lose myself in Jesse’s arms again.

  Freedom. It’s several months away. It felt impossible weeks ago, but now I can practically taste it. I shift onto my back and stare at my ceiling fan. My lips squish to the side as anxiety sets in. I’m assuming Jesse will want to kiss me again. Jesse and I have always been confusing. What if last night was a last night thing? He said he cares, but does that mean we were a couple last night and today we’re friends again?

  Ugh. I place a pillow over my face and scream into it. For a brief few seconds, I consider smothering myself with it. Overanalyzing is, unfortunately, one of my best talents.

  My cell vibrates, and I groan. It’s been vibrating all morning. Mostly my friends who want to know what I thought of my date with Stewart. A few from Stewart asking if I want to go out again, and I am not looking forward to turning him down.

  Mom: I made something special for you. You can find it in the kitchen. Yes, you’re allowed to have it for breakfast. ☺ I’m running errands this morning, but will be home for lunch. Your dad and sister are playing in the backyard. They’d LOVE for you to join them.

  Huh. Dad let Mom go someplace on her own on the weekend. That’s impressive. As much as I hated the date, it’s also impressive that Dad gave the date his blessing. Maybe he is changing.

  I contemplate this as I roll out of bed, change clothes, run a quick brush through my hair, do all the essentials in the bathroom and make my way down the stairs. I enter the kitchen, and happiness causes me to smile.

  On the counter is hot peanut butter cookies and a notecard with my name written on it propped up next to the platter in my mother’s cursive penmanship. At my place at the table my sister has left me drawings of me and her holding hands against the backdrop of a rainbow and unicorns.

  That is definitely love.

  I nibble on my lower lip as I notice the menu from my favorite pizza place and a note scribbled from my father that tonight’s my night to choose the toppings. That tonight’s my night to choose the movie. A note that hints he’ll give me those rights this night, tomorrow night, whatever night, if I’ll participate in family movie night with him again.

  The real question is, should I believe him?

  A squeal from the backyard and through the windows I watch a memory in real time. Except the little girl with long black hair isn’t me, but my sister.

  Isabelle wears this brilliant smile as she races around my father’s car with the hose in her little hands. Shockingly, my father allows her to spray him even though the morning is full of crisp autumn air. He fights past the mist of water to scoop her up and hug her as if she’s the most precious person in the world.

  Seeing them together, seeing them happy, causes heavy sorrow. She’s happy and she believes my father loves her, but being her age once, having experienced that pure joy with my father, I can say it’s easier to believe him when you have no other basis of comparison.

  My father releases Isabelle, and she scurries away in a fit of giggles to behind the garage, no doubt planning her next phase of attack. Laughing to himself, Dad turns for the house and looks up faster than I can turn away. Our eyes meet, and I hate how his smile fades.

  Part of me wants to retreat, sprint back to the safety of my room, but I don’t. I slink to the fridge and pretend to study it as Dad enters the kitchen. He’s slow as he walks toward me, and when he stops by the island, he shoves his hands in his pants pockets.

  He smells wet, as if he’s been caught in a summer storm, and I’m surprised to see him relaxed in clothes that are so drenched that they stick to his body. Maybe he has changed because while Dad did play with me like that as a child, he wouldn’t have stayed such a mess for long.

  “How was your date?” Dad asks.

  I grab a bottle of water from the fridge then hold the bottle with both hands. I squeeze it tightly, as if it were a bomb and if I let go it would explode. “Okay.”

  “Isabelle and I are washing the cars. Do you want to join us?” He offers a hesitant grin full of desperate hope.

  “I need to finish some schoolwork,” I lie to him and myself. I would love to believe he’s changed and be as carefree as Isabelle, but I’m terrified of letting my guard down because what if this is just an act. What if he hasn’t changed?

  His grin flickers, but he forces it back as if my rejection didn’t sting. “We might be at this for a while if you change your mind. Isabelle thinks it’s fun to spray me more than the car.”

  I used to do that, too.

  “Stewart seemed like a nice kid. Do you think there’ll be a second date?”

  I shake my head no, and Dad deflates. “Your mom told me you didn’t want to go, and I’m sorry. When your friends came up with the idea, I assumed they picked some guy you liked. I’m sorry I pushed this on you.”

  The left portion of my brain tingles as if I’m having a stroke because I don’t think I heard any of that right. Did Dad apologize?

  “Your mom and I feel bad,” he says. “It was suggested in counseling that I give you some space to show that I trust you, and hopefully you’ll come to trust me. Your mom and Isabelle are coming with me on a few weekend business trips. You’re more than welcome to come. In fact, I’d love for you to come, but I understand that you may need some space. So if you want to stay here, by yourself, then I’ll allow it.”

  My eyebrows raise because beyond a few hours here and there, I’ve never been allowed alone, and the idea sounds like heaven. This means unlimited time away from him. Unlimited time to work and make money. Unlimited time to search for scholarships. Unlimited time with Jesse. Warmth spreads along my cheeks at the idea of being alone with him, and I drink my water to hide my reaction.

  “Your mom and I would appreciate it if you tried talking with Pastor Hughes again, but I’m not going to push you. Isabelle has missed you hanging out with us so maybe if you participated in family movie night as a favor to her—”

  “Okay,” I say, and Dad’s eyes snap to mine as if he is shocked to hear my voice.

  “Okay on what part?”

  I shrug as if I don’t know or don’t care. “To the movie tonight.”

  Dad beams, and he claps his hands together. “Pick the movie and pick the pizza.”

  I wish he wouldn’t make this a big deal. Dad seems to read my mind and says a few other random things before he walks out. The moment the door shuts, my sister blasts him with the hose, and I’m surprised by the faint but real smile on my lips when he yelps in surprise.

  Off balance, I touch my face. Is it possible my father has changed?

  JESSE

  It’s two in the afternoon, and I’m starving. I’ve spent most of the morning and into the afternoon fixing the rail fence on the western side of the property. A guy pays me to put his horses out to pasture there. Sounded like a good deal until the horses started rubbing up against my fence and pushing it down. What I make in profit, I’ll end up spending on fence upkeep.

  My stomach’s been growling for the past half hour, and I’m breaking for food. The doughnut I had earlier with Marshall and Glory wasn’t enough to get me through the day.

  We met for a half hour. None of us saying anything worth listening to. Me talking about school, Marshall asking more questions about school, Glory wondering aloud if me and Marshall would be more cordial if she scrubbed our auras clean. At least we shared one moment on the same page as we sat staring at Glory like she needed medication.

 
; We left with the agreement that we would meet again at Glory’s. Marshall seemed pleased I was trying.

  As I approach the house, I squint at the figure on the swings. Probably V. No doubt she’s pissed I cut out on hanging with her last night, and no doubt Leo told her that he had left me with Scarlett. But as I get closer, it’s not short blond curls but long black hair. It’s Scarlett.

  She sways on the swing, her toes dragging along the ground. A soft smile lights her up when she spots me, but there’s a question there. The hesitancy I had chased away last night.

  It makes sense. Last night, her walls were torn down; she let me in and now she needs to know nothing has changed in the morning light. I don’t mind offering her proof. In fact, I’ll offer her proof every second of every day. I even dreamed about offering her proof last night.

  In two large strides, I reach Scarlett, and her eyes widen as I encircle my arms around her waist, lift her off the swing and pull her close. The breath rushes out of her body and before she has a chance to utter a word, I lean down and kiss her.

  Her tense muscles quickly melt, and within a second, Scarlett’s kissing me back. Her lips soft, her hands cautiously roaming, a test to herself and me if she’s allowed to touch. She’s allowed. She’s more than allowed. Her touch alone is causing me to go up in flames, but Scarlett and I are in new territory and that requires patience.

  Ignoring the urge to kiss her deeper, to lose myself in her for as long as humanly possible, I pull back. She gasps for air, a blush touches her cheeks and she falls into me, hugging me tight. I enjoy her embrace, inhale her sweet scent and kiss her head.

  “What was that?” she asks.