In Place of Never

by Julie Anne Lindsey

I shut my eyes, doubting she ran into Anton as much as saw him and chased him down. “Did Anton see us?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t point you out or anything, but all the heavy breathing probably gave you away.”

  Laughter burst from my chest. “Stop!” I snorted and laughed louder.

  “I’m kidding. I say enjoy him while he lasts. He’s cute if you can get past all the frowning.” Pru slid off the bed. “I think Anton’s a really nice guy. We talked about Faith after the fireworks. He only knew her for a week, but he cared about her. He wouldn’t have hurt her and no one else in their group had a connection to her. I haven’t met his family, but he’s constantly with them. The Lovells can’t be a team of evil villains and have a kid like him.”

  She hooked her fingers around the doorjamb. “I think you should ask Nadya whatever you want to know. Probably start by asking about that awful palm reading. Who says that to someone? No future? Jeez. What the hell? Then ask why they really left in a hurry. Did she have a bad feeling or see something she didn’t like?” Pru raised her palms. “You’d better clarify ‘in real life’ in case she tells you what she saw in the cards or tea leaves instead.”

  “Agreed.”

  She waved a hand over her head on her way down the steps. “I’m going to call Mary Grace and see what I missed tonight. You want to watch a movie later?”

  “Only if I pick.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Hey, Pru?”

  The creaking stairs stilled. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for the insight. Oh, wise one.”

  She yelled up the steps, “Call me Yoda.”

  A second later, bass pounded from her room. Yoda liked to rock.

  I checked my nails before sweeping hair over one shoulder and retrieving the scissors from my desk drawer. I dropped into the seat at my vanity and steadied my hand. My reflection had changed, as if removing millimeters of black from my hair erased it from my life as well. If only life were that easy. I hooked my toes around the tiny wastebasket and dragged it closer to where I sat. I opened and closed the scissors across fluttering black tips, captivated as they floated into the trash can waiting below.

  My phone buzzed with a text from Cross.

  “Busy?”

  A smiled tugged my lips apart. I set the scissors aside. “Nope.”

  “Are you decent?”

  “Rarely.”

  “On my way.”

  I dragged a brush through my hair and grabbed a lip gloss before closing my bedroom door. Pru had propped open the window, letting in the night sounds and a few lightning bugs. The attic needed a window screen, but Dad wasn’t motivated to special order one for the weird-sized, one-hundred-year-old window. I didn’t mind.

  I leaned my head and shoulders through the open window, straining my eyes against the night. Something moved on the ground and a shadow elongated near the sidewalk, vanishing around the front of our house.

  “Cross?”

  His whisper floated to my ears from the opposite direction. “Yep.”

  My head snapped back, seeking the shadow that had disappeared opposite Cross. Bushes swayed in a gentle breeze. No sign of a mysterious shadow. I blinked away paranoia. I needed a mental vacation.

  The tree limb jumped. Cross walked the stretch to my roof with ease and climbed over the gutter. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” I checked the bedroom door over one shoulder and climbed out. “Dad’s home. Let me text Pru.” I tapped my phone screen to life, smiling, imagining Pru’s face when she got the text.

  Cross positioned himself on the roof, in the shadow of the tree. “What’d you tell her?”

  “That you were meeting me here. I asked her to text if Dad heads up to my room.”

  He searched my face. “You look happy.”

  My smile wavered. “I am.”

  “Feeling guilty about that?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  Cross reached for my hand. He laced our fingers together and looked into my eyes. “Don’t be.”

  “I know. Logically. Faith would want me to be happy.”

  “Yes.”

  “I guess I’ve had a weird and beautiful day. I talked to some of Faith’s friends. I realized other people miss her too, and that makes me proud. She made a difference.”

  He squinted. “Was that the weird part?”

  “No. I was screamed at by both Dobbs boys, and then Dad and I shared a pastry.” I snorted.

  “That is weird.”

  “Yeah.”

  Cross moved closer. The heat of him warmed the night chill on my skin. “I don’t like knowing you were screamed at. What’s wrong with that family?”

  I pressed my lips into a tight line. “They’re messed up like the rest of us. I didn’t know how much until today.”

  I angled my back to Cross and leaned against the planes of his wide chest. Strong arms folded around my middle.

  “Everything feels more complicated than it should. It’s like I had this normal life once, something right off of television, then we lost Faith, literally.” I scoffed. “Figuratively. Everything. Normal came to a screeching halt and I went numb. I lived in a void for three years, and then you showed up.” I stroked his arm and his palm turned under mine. Our palms pressed together. “In one day’s time, three years disappeared and my world resurrected in Technicolor. Now I have this incredible sister I never knew. My dad’s full of secrets I can’t pry loose. The town’s looking at me again, this time without pity. I had no purpose for so long and now I have a goal bigger than myself and only a short time to reach it. Once I leave for college, everything changes again.”

  “Hey.” Cross loosened his grip on me and dragged his fingers over my palm. “You needed those years to get through your loss. Now you’re older and stronger. You’re healing, and getting answers is part of the process. Besides, no one would’ve been straight with you three years ago. The loss was too fresh and you were too young. They wouldn’t have taken you seriously, or they’d have told you to talk to your dad.”

  Appreciation filled my heart. I loved him for letting me be me, damaged parts included. I loved him for understanding, for not judging and for making me brave. The word love lingered in my mind. I loved Cross for all he’d done and for who he was, but did I love him the way girlfriends love boyfriends? Had our chance encounter, with all its monumental twists and flaws, become something more than sincere friendship and appreciation? What would love feel like? Like this? I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. There was no denying the deeply intimate connection I felt for him. Sometimes it seemed he understood my soul. Was that love? Insanity? Love took years to cultivate. Didn’t it?

  I shoved the heavy thoughts aside. There was time to obsess later, when I was alone. For now, I needed to be present in the moment. There were too few of these moments left, and I was a disaster. Cross was a good guy. He deserved good things in his life. Things that weren’t damaged. I bit my tongue to hold back the flood of words. “Thanks.”

  He squeezed my hand. “We still have time to get the answers you want. We’ll figure this out.”

  I sighed. “Thanks for coming to see me. I like ending my nights this way.”

  Cross leaned his cheek to mine. “Me too.”

  He took a deep breath. “I have a confession and ulterior motives. I came to ask you something.”

  I frowned in faux disappointment. “Spill.”

  “Anton and Rose are making lunch Wednesday to celebrate my win at Red’s. The cast and crew have been busy with practices and shows. We haven’t had time to sit down and celebrate yet.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t hear a question.”

  Cross’s dimple caved in. “Would you like to come to lunch Wednesday? I promise to keep Mouse and Nadya away from you. We can leave right afterward and go get coffee or ice cream alone.”

  I bit my lip. “That sounds like a date.”

  “Mercy Porter.” He lifted my chin wit
h one strong finger. “Be my date.”

  In his arms, I was brave and confident. Who would I be when he left? “Two conditions.”

  Cross pulled back with a smile. “There are conditions?”

  “Always. First, don’t keep Nadya away. I want to talk with her. Second, I think you could ask nicer. ‘Be my date’ sounds like an order. Not very nice.”

  He bit his lip, tugging the silver ring with his teeth and prodding it with his tongue.

  My nerve waned. Would he retract his invitation?

  Cross pinned me with his gaze until my blood boiled. He moved, slow and serious, planting his hands on either side of me. His chest rose over mine, pressing me back. My heart rate spiked and my palms slid against warm shingles. My hair splayed over the roof at my back. Without breaking our stare, he lowered himself to me.

  “Mercy?” He kissed my jaw. His lips warmed my earlobe and teased the tiny hoops I’d slid in before church. “May I ask you a question?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I wiggled beneath him, shimmying up the low-angled roof, away from the gutters, into the moonlight. Cross was everywhere. His cologne mixed with scents of shampoo and cinnamon.

  He followed me over the shingles, never letting me out of kissing distance. When I stopped, his chin dipped swiftly. He caught the skin of my neck in his lips and suckled. The stubble of his cheeks rubbed my shoulder as he tilted his head farther, garnering greater access to my flesh.

  “Question?” I panted the word.

  His dark eyes swam back into view. Mischief colored his face. “A question? Let me think.” He dropped kisses along the ridge of my collarbone, nudging the fabric of my shirt lower with each caress.

  No longer able to resist, I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him to me. He complied with a low groan that rumbled in his chest and sent chills down both my thighs. I wrapped my fingers in his hair to keep them from roaming, but my back arched, traitorously. So much for playing it cool. “Okay. I accept. I’ll go with you tomorrow. Please stop asking.”

  He chuckled against my neck. “I like asking.”

  I liked his victorious tone. I pressed my palms to his chest. “I have to see Faith soon. I didn’t go after church today.”

  “What if I meet you there and you can introduce us?”

  I frowned. “Are you teasing me?”

  Moonlight cast shadows over his cheeks, from the straight lines of his brow. He had the chiseled jaw of a movie star and the lips of a saint. Maybe not a saint.

  Worry creased his furrowed brow. “Was that weird of me again? I wasn’t teasing. I don’t know anyone else in your situation. I thought since you talk to her…”

  My lips were on his before he finished the sentence. He didn’t think I was crazy or demented for talking to my sister’s grave. He wanted me to introduce them. I smiled as our lips connected. He accepted my quirks and he held me like he never wanted to let go. Another part of my hardened heart melted free. Our lips parted and I gasped. His tongue dipped into my mouth, sliding warm and wet against mine. I burned for more of his touches. Sparks of possibility ignited my limbs. What else could he do? What else could we do?

  Far too soon, he rolled free of my grip and pulled me to his chest. We rested against the warm angled roof and listened to our breaths and heartbeats settle. Cross looped his arm around me, protectively. “Next time you sneak out, come to my camper. I can’t promise not to roll off this roof if you keep kissing me like that.” He pressed his lips to my forehead.

  I wound my fingers in his shirt and imagined how the night might end in the privacy of his trailer. “Deal.”

  He lifted onto his elbows. “I hate to kiss and run, and I swear I didn’t come here to attack you like that, but I need to get home. I used the lunch invitation as an excuse to see you. I could’ve texted the invite.” He smiled. “So much less personal that way.”

  I pressed fingertips to my lips and cheeks. The cool of my skin helped ease the seductive sting.

  “Your face is red.” He curled his hand around my chin and touched my lips with his thumb.

  “I think it’s from your stubble.”

  His eyes widened in alarm. He scrubbed a palm over his face. “Oh, ow. Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

  I smiled and kissed his lips. “I’m fine.”

  “Next time, I’ll shave. Promise.”

  There was no non-ridiculous way to tell him I liked it, so I walked him back to the tree with a fiery blush. “We should do this again.”

  He nodded. “Tomorrow? Same time. Same rooftop?”

  “’Kay.”

  “Text me when you go see Faith.” He pulled me into a hug before scaling the tree and dropping back onto the lawn.

  I had a date.

  Inside my room, I stifled a squeal and leaned against the wall, reliving his kisses.

  The branch outside my window brushed the glass and I froze. Did he come back without texting first? Did he forget something? I leaned through the open window. “Cross?”

  A scan of the yard revealed no sign of Cross or any creeping shadows like the one I thought I saw earlier. The night was still. Too still. I jerked my head back inside. There was no breeze. What rattled the tree? I slid the window shut and secured the lock before pulling the curtain.

  It was only my imagination. There was nothing in the tree. No one was on the lawn.

  I crawled onto the bed with my phone.

  It was definitely time to invite Pru up for a movie.

  Chapter 14

  Romantic or Creepy?

  I crouched in the fresh-cut grass beside Faith’s headstone. Crisp morning air filled my lungs, damp with dew and the sweet scent of wildflowers. The reluctant sun made another appearance, chasing away the summer storms of last week and delivering unbearable July heat as promised by local weathermen. Every lawn mower in town had run until nightfall for two days straight, fighting the overgrown grass and weeds gorged by days of rain. Hundreds of birds settled in our fields, filling up on earthworms and bugs eager to emerge from hiding. From my seat at the top of Cemetery Hill, the world was pristine and shiny with a haze of morning fog.

  My silver flip-flops revealed Pru’s handiwork with nail polish and a toothpick. She’d magically created a universe of silver and gold stars on both my big toe nails after painting them black to match my fingernails. My jeans rested warmly on my hips, snugger than they’d been in months. With Dad at home, the house always smelled of food. He made breakfast and lunch. Fruit, salad, and protein for dinner. Somehow I’d eaten more than a few bites at every meal, instead of once a day. Ironically, the more I ate, the louder my stomach requested more. I tipped my travel mug skyward. The final dregs of coffee teased my tongue.

  “If only things were what they seemed, Faith.” I patted her stone. “Up is down. Left is right. The more answers I get, the more questions I have.”

  I settled onto the dewy grass and stretched my legs out in front of me. “Everything’s so weird. I wish you were here. I’m really sorry you aren’t.”

  The sun glistened over the distant, roaring river. I steadied myself for the truth of my next statement. She needed to hear. “Last night something hit me. Hard. The kind of realization that takes your breath. Do you know what I mean? I bet you do. So, here it is: I don’t think I had anything to do with what happened to you.”

  My limbs felt lighter. The truth of the words lifted my heart. Speaking them aloud released me. “For a long time, I blamed myself. I thought you’d be at college right now if I hadn’t covered for you that night, but I talked to Vanessa at church on Sunday. She covered for you too. Late last night a mental switch flipped. It wasn’t a crime that you asked us to cover for you, and it wasn’t a crime that we agreed. How many other times had I covered for you and everything went fine? I think blame was my way of holding on to the pain of your loss because if I stopped being sad you were gone, you might think I stopped caring you were gone, but those aren’t the same, and I’m ready to let that
go.” I tipped my chin high and closed my eyes. The sun warmed my cheeks and nose. “What do you think?”

  A branch snapped and my eyes flashed open. I popped onto my knees and looked through the vast reaching fingers of ancient trees and endless rows of graves, mausoleums, and wrought iron fences. A pair of squirrels scurried up the side of a wide oak.

  I flopped back into place. “Sorry. I think I traded depression and reclusiveness for paranoia and caffeine addiction. Getting my days turned around is harder than you’d think. It’s playing with my mind. I’m trying to sleep when normal people sleep and stay awake all day.” I sighed. “When do normal people sleep? I don’t think we even know any.”

  A flock of geese flew overhead, honking and casting shadows on the world below. Their V-formation made me smile. Some things were constant, predictable, like the raging river after endless summer storms. White froth churned at the river’s edge, gathered on protruding rocks and glistened in the sun. White water rafters loved these days.

  Movement registered in my periphery and I scrambled to my feet. “Hello?” My heartbeat raced against my ribs. I squinted into the distance, turning in a slow circle for complete analysis.

  “I don’t know, Faith. I’m losing it lately. I thought I saw someone in the yard the other night, or maybe in the tree.” My mouth dried. The memory rushed forward. “It’s silly, I know, but…” The sensation someone had lurked in our yard terrified me. “I probably imagined the whole thing, but the urge to hide was so strong I agreed to watch a movie about Pru’s favorite boy band. The movie was ridiculous, but the boys were kind of cute.” Maybe I had a thing for singers and never knew it? “I get inside my head sometimes, and I go a little crazy. You were the creative one, but my imagination is Hollywood-quality.”

  Soft whistling carried on the morning breeze. Cross marched up the hill with a messenger bag and a drink. Black jeans clung to his skin. A simple white T-shirt accented his olive skin and dark features. Eyes that had seemed forlorn and mysterious the day we met appeared tender and honest now. His long fingers wrapped around a cup from White Water coffee. The giant red straw was twice the cup’s height. He’d kept his ridiculous promise. I’d bet the cup even had a flag on it somewhere.