The Taste of Her Words

by Candace Knoebel

  “One day, I might try to have them published,” I continued as my shoulders relaxed. “I just need to think of a theme and stick to it. Right now, everything I write is in the moment. When a thought pops in my head. I don’t sit long enough and just let myself go. Sometimes… sometimes I think it’s because I’m afraid to.”

  “Afraid?”

  I found his eyes, seeing the same Dean I’d always known. “Afraid of not being good enough.”

  His eyebrows lowered. “Andy, every writer worries about that. Hell, every human pretty much worries about it. You have to push through the doubt.”

  I sighed. “If only it were that easy.”

  There was a moment of silence as he chewed on his lip in thought. And then he scooted a smidgen closer, an idea taking shape on his face. “You know what was drilled into my head over and over again by my mentors?”

  I leaned in, desperate to know what he knew. “What?”

  “Trust the process,” he said.

  It sounded so simple. I’d heard it before.

  He could tell I was tossing the idea away, so he added, “I’m serious, Andy. No one writes a perfect piece in one sitting. No one. You have to let yourself go to discover what’s inside you. You can’t think about the future and how the work will be perceived, because that’s not where the art is. The art is here.”

  He pressed his fingertip to my chest, where my heart was.

  I felt a magnetism to his confidence in me. In an instant, his gaze deepened at the feel of my heart beating so hard. Something flickered and hummed in the stillness between us. It felt like coming home after a long vacation. Like that first exhale of relief.

  I wanted to touch him, just to see if I moved him the same way he moved me. Just being close to him robbed my ability to think straight. To keep my ideals in check.

  He licked his lips, eyes dropping to my mouth.

  Would you taste my longing,

  If I stole a kiss?

  “Mom,” Charlie shouted a second later, shattering the moment.

  We scooted away from each other as I looked up, breath caught in my throat. Charlie was prying a fish out of the net Josh was untangling, face flushed from the sun.

  “Mom, look! I got one.” His voice was full of rainbows. He bent, finger moving as he counted. “No, wait. I got a whole bunch!”

  “Excellent job, buddy,” I shouted back as I grabbed my book and sunblock with clammy hands and tucked the items into the tote I brought. My lungs felt like I’d never used them as I tried to calm my racing heart.

  “Andy,” Dean said. The way he said my name, a note deeper, almost pleading… I knew he wanted to say something I wasn’t ready to hear, so I cut him off.

  “Do you think you could move the cooler to the dock so he can throw his fish in it? I doubt I can lift it.” I laughed uncomfortably as I pulled the tote closer to me.

  I expected to get the Dean I knew. His expressions always gave him away. I thought I’d see the disappointment in his eyes, but when I looked at him, his face was blank. Unreadable.

  Reclusive.

  “Sure,” he said, the comment stiff and reserved, like ink from a red pen.

  I watched as he carried it to the edge of the dock, the muscles in his back rippling with every step, and tore my gaze away. This was getting out of hand. I was a mess. A wreck. A hormonal accident waiting to happen.

  After Charlie and Josh finished filling the cooler, Dean carried it to where I stood near the Jeep and set it in the back.

  “I think Charlie has a better casting hand than you, Josh,” Dean said, winking at Charlie. “There’s enough fish in that cooler to feed an army.”

  Charlie beamed from ear to ear, chest stuck out.

  “And I think I owe you a fiver,” Dean continued. “When we get back, remind me.”

  I smirked. “A fiver?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie said, his features animated. “I bet Dean I could out-fish Uncle Josh.”

  “You did?” I looked between Dean and Josh.

  They shrugged.

  “Well, it’s a good thing you won that bet, because you left all your money at home,” I said as we climbed into the Jeep.

  They chattered about the fish they’d caught as Josh took off. Pearl-white clouds looked on as the sun began to sink. I let Charlie sit up front so Josh could teach him how to drive. I tried not to notice my leg brushing against Dean’s as the Jeep rocked over the bumpy terrain. Or how his arms were spread along the back of the seat. All I had to do was lean closer and his arm would be around me.

  Andy, I warned myself.

  Being next to him made my mouth increasingly dry. “Excuse me,” I said as I reached behind me for the drink cooler, digging my hands through the half-melted ice for a water.

  I came up empty.

  “Here,” Dean said, holding out his half-filled bottle. Droplets slid over the ridges like tiny spheres of light, reflecting the panic in my gaze.

  I shook my hands free of the water and sat back. “I’m not that thirsty.”

  “Really?” He pushed the bottle toward me, insisting I take it. “I don’t have cooties.”

  I stared at it, debating. My lips tingled and my skin burned at the thought of putting my mouth where his had been, and that annoyed me beyond measure. It was just a damn water bottle. It wasn’t a kiss. Wasn’t crossing a line. It was me, simply quenching my thirst.

  I took it and put it to my lips, trying not to notice the smirk in his eyes as he watched me swallow gulp after gulp until the bottle was empty.

  His eyebrows rose when I finished.

  “Okay,” I folded, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I was thirsty.”

  He chuckled as he leaned back and looked forward. “Then I’m glad you came to your senses and took it.”

  The house came into view along the horizon, so small it looked like a model version of itself.

  He looked over at me, gaze brushing the side of my face. “Josh and I were thinking about heading into town to check out a bar.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I replied, hair whipping in the wind.

  “Yeah. I was thinking about what you said about being afraid… Maybe it would do you some good to let go. All the best writing comes from experiencing life, and what better way than to let go and have a little fun?”

  A dare danced in his eyes. One I didn’t want to back down from.

  My nerves did jumping jacks. “Okay.”

  “Yeah?” he asked, as if he wasn’t sure if he’d heard me right.

  I looked up at him, trying not to lose myself in his gaze. “Yeah,” I repeated, smiling a little.

  “Hey, you two,” Josh said, his eyes finding mine in the rearview mirror. “No canoodling in the family Jeep.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “What’s canoodling mean?” Charlie asked, looking over at Josh.

  Josh’s wolfish smirk made me want to reach out and choke him. I glared hard, telling him not to poison my son with his jokes.

  “Oh… you’ll find out soon enough, bud,” Josh said, ruffling his hair as his eyes gazed at me in the rearview.

  One of these days…

  “TODAY WAS FUN,” CHARLIE SAID as he headed into his room and jumped on his bed. His hair was a shade darker, still damp from his shower.

  “Yeah,” I said as I followed him in and took a seat next to him. “The fish you caught were delicious.”

  “I didn’t think I’d like fish,” Charlie confessed. “It didn’t smell very good when we cleaned it.”

  I laughed and pulled the covers back so he could get in. “Butter and garlic combined is magical.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Magical.” He repeated the word as if he heard it an unusual way. As if it only just made sense to him.

  “How was your conversation with your father?” I asked, fishing. I hadn’t stayed in the room when he called Matt. Dad asked me to allow him to stand in and watch to get a feel for Matt. Judging by the look on his face when he came out of the room after Char
lie hung up, I’d guess it didn’t go well.

  Charlie shrugged and looked away, which meant he didn’t want to talk about it. He never did.

  “You excited about tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.” He looked at me with a fresh smile. Watched me for a moment, and then tilted his head to the side. “Why are you dressed up?”

  I glanced at my black skinny jeans with artfully ripped holes and flowing, off-the-shoulder shirt. Looking back to him, I said, “I’m going somewhere with Uncle Josh in a little bit. I wouldn’t consider this dressed up though, Charlie.”

  “You’re wearing jewelry,” he pointed out. “You never wear jewelry.”

  I grabbed the necklace I wore. “I do… sometimes.”

  He looked right through me. “Well, you look pretty, Momma.”

  “Thank you,” I said, kissing his forehead. “And if you need anything at all, Grandma will be right upstairs, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said with a nod, settling in.

  “See you in the morning?”

  “Yeah.”

  I stood and turned to leave, but then I heard, “Mom?”

  “Hmm?” I asked, sitting next to him.

  “Do you think Santa Claus really exists?”

  I tucked the sides of his covers in, cocooning him just like he used to like when he was little. “Of course he does. Why would you ask that?”

  Melancholy twisted his face. “Because Ma—I mean… Dad said he didn’t… tonight on the phone after I told him Gramps said I should put a go-kart on my list for Santa. He says it’s the parents who buy gifts, and that they lie to their children about it being an imaginary man who brings them.”

  I tried to contain the flames as the furnace inside me roared to life. My mind scurried to find a way to repair the damage Matt had done… continued to do, every time he had a moment alone with my boy. How dare he think he could steal away all the magic… all the innocence Charlie deserved to have. That was why Dad had been pissed. Why he told me he’d talk to me about it later, that he had work to do.

  “Mom?”

  I steadied my face and kissed the top of his forehead. “Some people do think that,” I admitted. “They believe that magic doesn’t exist.”

  “Do you?”

  I softened my forced smile. “Absolutely not. Magic is real, if you choose to believe so.” I scooted a little closer. “Listen, Charlie, I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to really listen, okay?”

  He nodded.

  “I will never lie to you. Never. If you ever come to me, wanting the truth, I will give it to you because I love you. Because telling the truth, no matter how hard it might be, is always the right thing to do.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my rapidly beating heart. “Your father is right in saying that Santa Claus isn’t a real man, because he isn’t.”

  Charlie’s eyes widened.

  “But that doesn’t mean his magic isn’t real,” I hurriedly added, hating the shattered look in his eyes.

  Confusion pulled at his features.

  “Santa Claus is real where it counts… here,” I said, pointing to his heart. “And here.” I touched his forehead. “His magic pours through every adult who writes his name on the presents, because Santa Claus, at his core, is love. He is the thought and time we put into picking out the perfect gifts we give to our children. He is the jolly music in the air that plays and makes your spirit feel warm. He is your love of hot chocolate, and the laughter that overflows while decorating our Christmas trees. Santa is real, in all the ways that matter, Charlie, and no one, not even your father, can take that away from you.”

  His smile was small at first, but then it grew until it was a wide grin. “I love you to the moon, Momma,” he said as he held his arms open, waiting for a hug.

  I scooped him up, holding him close to me as I tried to bite back tears. “I love you to the stars.”

  He snuggled in and whispered in my ear, “I do believe magic is real.”

  I caught a tear before it had a chance to slide down my cheek, and then kissed his face all over, laughing when he tried to push me off. He might be getting too old to want it, but it wouldn’t stop me from showing my affection.

  “Get some rest,” I said as I leaned back. “Tomorrow, Gramps wants to take you camping.”

  “Are you coming too?”

  I knew he was asking because of his fear of the dark.

  I brushed the hair from his forehead. “I can, if you want me to.”

  He paused, eyes looking to the side in thought. “Can I tell you tomorrow if I do?”

  “Yep.”

  He smiled. “Okay. Goodnight, Momma.”

  “Goodnight, Charlie.”

  After shutting Charlie’s door, I stopped and pressed my back against the wall, a swell of emotions moving like a cyclone through me. How dare Matt? Why? Why spoil something so harmless? Why take away a child’s happiness?

  I reached for my phone in my back pocket and opened the text messages, finding Matt’s name right at the top. I typed every vile thought I had about him. Every bit of anger I kept locked up ever since we first went to court.

  And yet, I couldn’t send it.

  I couldn’t let him get to me, or Charlie, that way. I didn’t want him to have any more power over me than he already did, so I backspaced until it was blank, and then I put my phone back in my pocket, feeling somewhat defeated. There was nothing worse than having to bite my tongue.

  Nothing.

  I turned, heading to my dad’s office, when Josh came around the corner. “Fancy meeting you here, sis.” He was dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a bright blue polo shirt, his dirty blond hair gelled perfectly. “You look all…” He twisted his head sideways. “Dressed up. Trying to find the one tonight?” The swoon in his words made me want to gouge his eyes out.

  “Can’t I dress up without it having to be for a man?”

  He pursed his lips. “Yeah, and I dress this good because I’m not looking for tail.” He rolled his eyes. “We’re leaving now. If you’re going to come, I suggest you follow me. Otherwise, tell Mom and the girls I said hi.”

  I looked over my shoulder to my dad’s door, sighed, and then turned and hurried after Josh.

  If anyone deserved a drink, it was me.

  10

  T E M P T A T I O N

  Hunger lives on the edge of my lips.

  Taste me, drink me, have your fill.

  SOMETIMES I QUESTIONED MY OWN damn judgment.

  We sat at a round high-top table, Josh egging me on while gorgeous twenty-somethings danced nearby, eying the boys down. Suspended smoke swirled in hazy wisps under the dim light. Music thumped loudly as a DJ called all the single ladies to the bar for a free shot.

  Josh smirked at me.

  I gripped my purse as my thoughts jumbled in panic. It had been so long since I went out with a man, let alone a pair of them. If I’d even consider Josh a man. I peered over at him, watching as he gazed leeringly at the women on the dance floor.

  If it wasn’t for his Adam’s apple, I might scratch him off as one.

  I didn’t belong at this place. I had a child to think about, so I shouldn’t be out drinking. Worrying over the dance floor was pointless. I worked at a bar… I knew where things led.

  Was I that desperate for excitement?

  Or you could be trying to get your groove back, Stella. It was Eric’s voice I heard in my head. Surely, if I texted him right then and told him where I was and who I was with, he’d high-five me through emoticons.

  “Want something to drink?” Dean shouted over the music, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I turned and stared at him for a moment, contemplating whether I should Uber home or stay for one drink. Light played off the ends of his hair in spectrums of color. He was devilishly handsome in a plain white button-down, sleeves rolled back and buttons undone by the neck.

  “Bet she leaves,” Josh said a second later, wearing a wide smirk while he watched me.

  I squ
inted at him.

  “What?” he asked. “We all know that stick up your ass has been there too long for you to even know how to have fun. Besides, you couldn’t hang anyway. Two drinks and I guarantee your ass will be on the floor.”

  I knew better than to be goaded by Josh. His peer-pressuring ways and his love of reverse psychology to get what he wanted from people was obvious.

  But I suddenly didn’t care. I didn’t want a stick up my ass, and I sure as hell didn’t want my little brother telling me how many drinks it took to knock me down when he had no idea just who I was.

  Hatching, sprouting, dying to fly.

  “I’ll take a shot of whiskey,” I said to Dean while staring at my brother. “And bring Josh one too. We’ll see who falls on their ass first.”

  “Ooh.” Josh clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Big sis wants to play. Finally!”

  “You’re going to regret playing with me, little brother,” I boasted, watching as Dean disappeared in the crowd, heading for the bar.

  “Is this the part where you fill me in about how great you were in your prime?”

  I matched his taunting stare. “Prime? I haven’t hit that yet.”

  Dean returned holding three shot glasses. He sat them in the middle of the table, and then we each took one. Josh counted us down, and then we drank before flipping the glass upside down in front of us.

  Josh hollered out as the whiskey burned a trail down our throats. It had been so long since I had a taste. Too long.

  “You shoot like a man,” Josh said a second later, his face twisted from the burn.

  “No, I shoot like a woman,” I corrected, licking my lips.

  Tingling fire spread through my limbs, loosening me up. I didn’t feel as restless as I did. I wanted to… I wanted to take another shot.

  “Where are you going?” Dean asked as I made my way around the table that was almost as tall as I was.

  “You got the last round. I’ll get this one.”

  He got off his stool.

  I groaned.

  “Well, I’ll go with you to the bar then,” he said, almost hovering over me. His woodsy scent was intoxicating, and it made my brain dizzy.