Dragonfly

by Leigh Talbert Moore

“I have no idea what Mr. Kyser does when he leaves here.”

  “Right.”

  I got back in the elevator, and as I rode down the 14 floors, I tried to decide what to do. I could drive to their house. But what if I saw Jack again?

  I couldn’t let that stop me. I was going to get to the bottom of this, and I was doing it now.

  * * *

  It’d been weeks since I’d been to the enormous home on Peninsula Avenue, and I still felt as intimidated as ever pulling into the driveway. The Jeep was there, and my stomach clenched at the sight. The Audi was also there. This was a crazy idea. What had I been thinking? Did I actually plan to confront Mr. Kyser about getting me in trouble? I must’ve been suffering from temporary insanity.

  I was just about to restart the car when the front door opened, and Jack walked out. He was wearing jeans and a grey tee, and I could see the lines of his shoulders through the thin cotton fabric. Gorgeous. My lips remembered touching that skin. I could still taste it. I put my head on the steering wheel and peeked at him through the space. It was too late to run, and my eyes followed him as he came closer and tapped on the glass.

  “What’re you doing here?” he asked as I lowered the window.

  “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “Lucy’s down at Months Bay. Dad’s inside…”

  “I should go,” I said.

  “Hang on,” he lifted the handle to open the door and helped me out. “Take a walk with me?”

  My brain was screaming no, but my mouth said yes. I got out and followed him down the driveway and out to the beach. I had no idea what was coming, all I knew was something sick inside me wanted to find out.

  He stopped and turned to me, the wind pushing his hair around his face. My fingers itched to touch it, slide it off his forehead.

  “I’ve been thinking about you since yesterday.” He looked down before speaking again. “I’ve had something I wanted to tell you for a while. Since Jesse’s. That night. But I didn’t know if I wanted to say it out loud.”

  My cheeks grew hot. I remembered the night he was talking about. It was the night he’d wanted to sleep with me. “Okay?”

  “Being with you was more than I expected,” he said. “And it’s possible… I mean, I was thinking it would be very easy for me to fall for you.”

  “I don’t understand. Are you saying…?”

  “I wasn’t finished.”

  “Oh.” My throat grew painfully tight.

  “I mean, I feel these things, but you’re just so young. And there’s all my shit—”

  “I’m eighteen now,” I interrupted, thinking of my sad little birthday.

  “I didn’t know… Happy birthday.”

  I nodded, looking down. “It’s okay. I didn’t really feel like a party.”

  “Anna.” He exhaled and looked away. “I’m finished with school. That’s why I was there yesterday. I took my last exam and in two weeks, I’m moving to New Orleans. I’ll focus on college, I’ll be working with Will… I won’t have a lot of time.”

  I couldn’t speak. My insides felt dead. This was it. He was leaving, and after all the time I’d spent doing everything in my power to forget about him, I still wanted to cry at his words, hearing him say it.

  “It doesn’t matter, I guess.” He exhaled and looked into the wind. “I just didn’t want you to think it didn’t mean anything to me.”

  We were standing just steps apart, and my hand instinctively rose to touch his cheek. It was scratchy. A little stubble. “I know. You said it wasn’t a good idea.”

  “But you kept talking about books.” He stepped back and smiled. “I told you I have a thing for librarians.”

  “You hated every book we read.”

  He passed his hand over his cheek where I’d just touched him, and my heart ached. I wondered if this was the last time I’d see him, the last memory I’d have of us together.

  “It really is for the best,” he said.

  “You always say that.” I crossed my arms at my waist and turned to head back to the house. I felt a light touch on my shoulder and looked back. He took a quick step forward and kissed my forehead, right at my hairline.

  “Goodbye, Anna. Take care of yourself.”

  My chest tightened, but I didn’t want to cry in front of him. I blinked a little smile and nodded. “Good luck with college.”

  I didn’t want to talk to his dad anymore. I couldn’t care about that right now. Before I climbed into my car, I looked back and saw Jack had followed me. He was standing in the doorway, wearing the same expression as that very first night. I pulled the door closed and drove away, pain knotted in my chest.

  At home I went inside, walked straight to my room, closed my door and sat on my bed. I couldn’t tell how many minutes passed as I stared blankly at the wall. I could only think one thing: It was over.

  My insides were completely still.

  Finally, I got up and washed my face, changed into my pajamas, and went back to my bed. I lay on my side for several minutes staring at the wall. I didn’t know what to do to make the tears start. I was ready for the gut-wrenching sobs to begin, but my emotions wouldn’t cooperate. My feelings never acted right. I rolled onto my back and looked at the ceiling for a long time.

  * * *

  Sleep must have come, because the next time I opened my eyes it was daylight. Gabi was texting me about the annual Key West marathon and demanding to know the latest news on the formerly secret mystery.

  I rolled onto my stomach and sent back a message describing how I’d almost gotten fired. She texted a rant about the suppression of information, and I defended Nancy at least, explaining how she’d given me the assignment to interview Jack’s dad.

  How did that go? Were your knees knocking? she texted back.

  Practically. Had to bring a recorder. I typed, and then I gasped. “Oh my god!” I whispered. Just as fast I typed that I had to go.

  I had the whole thing recorded! Jack’s dad couldn’t accuse me of asking personal questions because now I could prove I hadn’t. I threw the covers back and jumped up, pulling on jeans and a long-sleeved tee. I threw my phone in my bag and grabbed the little recorder off my desk. Dashing across the hall, I raced to the bathroom to splash water on my face. Then I ran down the stairs and grabbed Mom’s car keys.

  “Whoa, hang on there. Where’s the fire?” Dad was sitting at the bar holding the paper.

  “Sorry, Dad! I’ve got to go.”

  “Hold it.” He looked stern. “What you’ve got to do is tell me where you’re running off to and when you’ll be back.”

  I didn’t have time for this sudden parental over-involvement. “It’s paper business. I’m working on a historical piece with Nancy, and I just remembered I need to interview this person. I won’t be gone long.”

  “Got your phone?”

  “Yep! Back in a few hours!”

  * * *

  As I raced down the beach road toward Dolphin Shores, I realized I had no idea what I was doing. I was driving toward Julian’s house, so I figured I’d start there. And of the two of them, I’d likely make more progress with his mom. She had to have called Mr. Kyser and told him what I’d said about Julian, and then he called Mr. Waters and accused me of snooping.

  But I wasn’t going to tell their secret, and she had to smooth things over for me at the paper. I didn’t want to use the recording, I wanted her to agree to help me. And I wanted her to do it because we were friends.

  I was still thinking about what I would say to her when I turned the car into Ms. LaSalle’s little shop and ran up the boardwalk. It was closed and all the lights were off. I ran around back and peeped in the window. Nothing.

  I got back in the car and drove to Julian’s house a few blocks away, but when I arrived, Mr. Kyser’s silver Audi was parked in the driveway. I paused wondering what this meant and what I should do. I decided to slip in through Julian’s garage workshop and see if I could tell what was going on.

  T
he door was open, so I walked in past several unfinished pieces. I heard their voices inside grow loud and then taper off, so I slipped to the door and pushed it open a crack to peek inside. There was no sign of Julian anywhere.

  “You’ve got to go,” she said. “What if Julian comes back and you’re here? What will I tell him?”

  “The truth?” Mr. Kyser’s voice was urgent, but heartbreaking, too. I could hear how much he loved her. “We really can’t keep going like this, Lex. If a teenage girl can figure it out, it’s just a matter of time—”

  “Anna’s just smart and sensitive,” Ms. LaSalle interrupted. “She picks up on things. Besides, Julian is used to not having a father. If we tell him now—”

  “What? You’re afraid you’ll lose him?”

  “I don’t know,” she said softly.

  “I know I agreed to this, but I also want to know my son,” Mr. Kyser’s voice was pleading. “I want us to be together.”

  Ms. LaSalle looked down and her long hair slid across her face. Mr. Kyser went to her and pulled her into his arms. She didn’t fight him as he lowered his head and kissed her. His hands gently cupped her cheeks, and it was so gentle and passionate and earnest. I started to turn away, but she broke away from him first.

  “It’s been so long,” he said softly. “We could try—”

  “No. We lost that chance when she died.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he said. “Why does it have to be that way? Why do you make it that way?”

  “Because it’s how I feel. I can close my eyes and forget her for a minute, five minutes, but she’s always there waiting to come back and remind me of what I did. What we did.”

  “She’s gone, Lex. The only thing reminding you is you.”

  Julian’s mom shook her head, “It won’t work. Too much has happened.”

  “So what’s the point if we simply grow old alone?” He was back to pleading.

  “You and I are not supposed to be together,” she insisted.

  “How can you say that? If things had been different, we would have easily been together. It was always going to happen. It started the day I came to get you in Atlanta.”

  “Oh, god. If only I’d stayed in Atlanta,” she sighed. “Things would be so different.”

  “You couldn’t stay there. You weren’t happy there.” He went back and pulled her into his arms again. “Remember your first day back, when we sat on the beach and talked? I’ll never forget it. You can’t say that didn’t mean anything to you.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why are you here? Everything was fine, and now you’re just making it hard again.”

  “Is it hard for you? I can never tell.”

  She looked up at him, and tears were in her eyes. He kissed her again, and this time she lifted her hands and slid them around his neck. She was kissing him back!

  I wanted to cheer, but I covered my mouth and stepped back from the door. A noise caused me to spin around. Julian was walking into the garage.

  “Anna!” He said, smiling at me. “What are you doing here? Whose car is that?”

  “Julian!” I spoke as loudly as I could and pushed the door open I’d just been peeking through. “I was… umm… Oh! Remember how I told you I was helping Nancy with that piece on your mom?”

  “Why are you yelling?” he frowned.

  “I’m not yelling. Am I talking loud?” I tried to look confused as I continued near-shouting. I was sure I was acting completely psychotic. “Sorry. Well, you know how your mom helped with the Phoenician complexes and all?”

  “Yeah.” Julian winced. “Damn, girl, tone it down.”

  “Well, Nancy asked if I would interview Mr. Kyser and her together. I was just coming out here to show him my ring. I told him about how beautiful it was, and he wanted to see it.” I’d made the whole story up, but hopefully the two inside would understand and play along.

  Julian smiled and lifted my hand. “Jack’s dad’s here? And you’re showing him the ring I made you? That sounds promising.”

  My voice tapered off as we studied it. “Yeah. It was the first thing I thought of.”

  “I’m glad.” He straightened it on my finger, and with our hands together, his tattoo and my ring appeared to be flying to each other.

  I slid my finger over his mark feeling comforted. One wouldn’t give me a chance, but the other was only waiting for a chance. I swallowed the tightness in my throat, wanting so much for my heart to be ready for Julian.

  “Anyway, I think we can show him now,” I said.

  Inside the house, Mr. Kyser was flipping through a magazine on the table and Ms. LaSalle was in the kitchen putting water in a kettle.

  “Hey, guys. Here’s the ring I was telling you about,” I said walking over to Mr. Kyser. He frowned at me. “Remember? The ring Julian made for me? Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  “It’s very nice. Helen Freed?” Mr. Kyser said.

  “Yep.” Julian stepped up beside me. “She described her technique to me, and I played around with some variations. I’m Julian.”

  He held out his hand to Mr. Kyser. Mr. Kyser paused and looked at him. Then he shook Julian’s hand. It was all I could do to keep from making a sound.

  “Bill Kyser,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ve seen you around.”

  I looked into the kitchen, and Ms. LaSalle was frozen watching them. For a moment I thought she might reconsider telling Julian the truth. Then she spoke.

  “Julian, would you do me a favor? I was going to open the store, but when these guys got here, I lost track of the time. Would you mind?”

  “Need me to open it for you?” he said.

  “Please. If you’re not doing anything?”

  “Sure, Mom.” Julian walked over to the fridge and grabbed a soft drink. As he passed her, she ran the back of her hand down his arm.

  “Thanks,” she smiled at him.

  The three of us waited in silence until we were sure Julian was gone. As soon as the door closed, I exhaled a long breath and dropped onto the couch.

  “What are you doing here? Why were you back there?” Ms. LaSalle snapped at me.

  I was stunned by her tone. I couldn’t believe she would be stern with me after I just saved her neck.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” I said. “And I wasn’t sure if Julian was here.”

  “You really are an annoying little snoop, Anna.” Mr. Kyser agreed.

  “That’s not fair! You lied about me,” I said. “You almost got me fired, and I want to know why.”

  “Lied about you?” Ms. LaSalle asked.

  “Mr. Waters called me into his office yesterday and yelled at me for asking him a bunch of personal questions.” I pointed to Mr. Kyser. “Only I didn’t ask you any personal questions. You asked me a bunch of personal questions.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mr. Kyser dismissed me.

  “This internship means a lot to me. It’s helping me with college, and now I might lose it.”

  “Calm down, Anna.” Ms. LaSalle said. “Nobody’s trying to get you in trouble. I’ll call and smooth things over if you like.”

  “I’d like you to be honest,” I said. “I’d like you to tell Julian the truth.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Ms. LaSalle muttered.

  “Why not?” I turned to Mr. Kyser. “Julian’s a great guy. He deserves to know who his dad is. He deserves what you can give him.”

  Mr. Kyser looked down and didn’t speak. Ms. LaSalle turned her back on both of us and put her hands on the small table. She was quiet for several minutes. I knew now that she was the reason Julian didn’t know, and nothing I could say would change her mind. After several more seconds she turned around.

  “I’ll make a deal with you,” she said.

  Mr. Kyser and I both stared at her waiting.

  “I’ll give Nancy the interview,” she continued. “I won’t talk about anything personal, but I’ll answer her questions, and I’ll make up some
reason why I stopped painting. Burnout or something. I’ll tell her you convinced me to talk to her.”

  “But… Why would you do that?” I asked.

  “Because I need you to trust me,” she said. “I need you to believe me when I say that not telling Julian is for the best.”

  I didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, her agreeing to do the interview with Nancy and smoothing things over were the reasons I’d come here. But I felt like I was getting what I wanted by selling out my friend.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I mean, what about Julian?”

  Mr. Kyser stepped in.

  “Come by my office Tuesday.” He led me to the door. “We’ll talk more then.”

  I looked at him, and his expression had changed. It was softer somehow. I had no idea what to make of that.

  “OK.” I said. “I guess you want to be alone.”

  “I need to get down to the store,” Ms. LaSalle said, picking up her bag. “It’s not fair to make Julian work when he wasn’t planning to.”

  “I’ll go and hang out with him,” I said. “I mean, if you two want to talk.”

  “There’s nothing more to say,” Ms. LaSalle said.

  “Lexy, please.” Mr. Kyser spoke.

  I went to the door. “See you Tuesday.”

  * * *

  I ran down to the car and drove back to Ms. LaSalle’s shop. I was less ready than ever to be alone with Julian after what had happened at Jack’s house. But I hoped by being here, Mr. Kyser could convince his mom to see her feelings. I walked into the small building and found him sitting on the bead table stringing a bracelet.

  “That’s pretty,” I walked over and gently touched the bright turquoise beads.

  “Thanks,” he smiled. “Mom’s been keeping kits like this around since I was a kid.”

  “For you?” I smiled back. He nodded. Then he gestured to my hand.

  “I like you wearing my ring.”

  I slid it around on my finger, loving the way it sparkled. “It’s my favorite piece of jewelry.”

  He reached forward and took my hand, holding it gently. “Want something to match it? A necklace or something?”

  “I saw Jack yesterday,” I blurted. Somebody had to be honest with him. “We ended things. For good this time.”