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Back To Us Page 8

by Rachel Hanna


  She walks to the table and looks back and forth at us as if she’s trying to figure out the hardest math problem of her life. “So you knew each other a long, long time ago?”

  I pile some rice and Mongolian Beef on her plate, and she immediately starts segregating the green onions to one side. “It wasn’t exactly horse and buggy days, but yes we were friends back then. Just for about three months, though, because Dawson had to move.”

  “Where’d you move to?” she asks, putting a scoop of rice into her mouth.

  “North Carolina.” He takes a sip of his sweet tea and eyes me seriously as if he’s looking for backup.

  “So, Harper, Mr. Woods brought me some interesting news. Mrs. Calloway is retiring and the school might want to hire me as the counselor. What do you think about that?”

  She freezes, fork dangling in midair, and stares at me. Her red eyelashes blink up and down slowly as her jaw drops. “You mean you’ll be at my school all day long? Every single day?”

  Dawson chuckles and then stifles it. “She’ll be there doing her job, but you probably won’t even see her unless you want to.”

  She finally starts moving again and takes another bite of her food. “I guess it’s fine. Just don’t embarrass me.”

  I laugh at that and we continue eating dinner, chatting about all sorts of things. It feels like a family. The only problem is, this family is highly dysfunctional and can never be a real family anyway.

  The question is - why does that bother me more than it should?

  Chapter 7

  After the formalities are out of the way, I’m working at the school right alongside Dawson and Harper. As I sit at my desk, looking out the window at kids running laps during PE, I realize how much my life has changed in just a few short weeks.

  I’m making strides with Harper, or at least I think so. She talks to me after school, lets me help her with homework, laughs when I tell her things about her father. The anger seems to be dissipating, and that’s really all I can ask for.

  My anger at him has disappeared too.

  “Indy? I’m leaving for a dental appointment,” the secretary at the front desk says. “Katie will be manning the desk.”

  “Okay. Good luck at the dentist!”

  “Ugh. I hate the dentist…” she laments as she walks away.

  After meeting with two parents and one very unruly child this morning, I decide to take a quick walk outside for some much needed fresh air. It’s almost lunch time anyway, so my next meeting isn’t until after one o’clock.

  I don’t see Dawson at school much, mainly because he’s on the hall furthest from me, and that’s probably good because being around him leaves me with confused feelings.

  I don’t know what we’re doing. We spend a lot of time together like this strange little family that isn’t a family - eating, doing yard work, taking walks. But Dawson has always made it clear that he never wants to get married or have a family.

  And why am I even thinking about this? We aren’t dating. And I don’t know if I ever want to get married again either.

  Yep, fresh air is definitely needed.

  I walk outside to a small patio that overlooks the big grassy field used for PE. I can see the kids are finishing up some kind of relay race and walking back toward the building for lunch, so maybe I can get a quiet few minutes to recharge for my afternoon schedule.

  “Indy Stone?” I hear a male voice say from in front of me. I’ve been looking down at my phone, responding to former clients in Charleston. When I look up, I see a very handsome man, but the sunlight behind his golden locks is blinding me enough that I don’t recognize him. I slide my sunglasses down from my head and immediately make the connection.

  “Kent Akers?” My eyes are wide when I see who it is. I had never expected to see my junior prom date standing in front of me. Kent’s family had moved to Germany the summer before our senior year, thus breaking up our budding romance.

  He steps forward and draws me into a warm embrace, which startles me at first and then I remember that most people are normal and enjoy hugs. I’m just a little skittish, but it only takes a moment to welcome the touch of a good looking man.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks with a bright smile, stepping under the overhang.

  “I work here now. I replaced Mrs. Calloway as the counselor.”

  “Wow. Small world, huh?”

  “When did you move back to Peach Valley?” We both sit down across from each other at the picnic table.

  “Oh, ages ago. I’ve been the PE teacher here for about eight years now. And how did you end up here?”

  “Just moved back to take care of my niece after my brother died. I was a therapist in Charleston.”

  “Married?” he asks, a gleam in his eye.

  “Not anymore, no.”

  Kent is as good looking as ever. I can imagine that the teachers here are probably fawning over him daily with his thick, wavy blond hair and crystal clear blue eyes. Those were two of the things that drew me to him back in high school. And now he’s a real man with a muscular build to prove it.

  As the quarterback of our football team, every girl wanted to be with Kent Akers. He’d had his pick of prom dates, and for some reason he’d chosen to ask me. At the time, I thought maybe it was a prank gone wrong, but we’d had a fabulous time.

  “Gosh, it’s so good to see you, Indy. Maybe we can get together some time, for dinner?”

  My stomach clenches up for reasons I can’t explain. “Sure. Soon. I’m just really busy trying to get acclimated right now…”

  Sensing my tension, he smiles easily. “Of course. Well, if there’s anything I can do to help you get… acclimated… let me know, okay?” I swear, he’d be perfect for toothpaste commercials or the cover of an LL Bean catalog.

  “Coach Akers? I skinned my knee,” a little boy says from around the corner of the building.

  “Eli, you were supposed to be inside already. Jeez… I’ll see you later, Indy,” he says, squeezing my shoulder as he stands and jogs off to the little boy who is acting as though his entire leg is about to fall off.

  “Already impressing the men around here, I see,” a voice says from the corner of the building. Dawson is leaning against the brick, his arms crossed.

  “What?” He walks over to me lazily and takes the spot that Kent was occupying moments before. Suddenly, I feel like I’m on one of those speed dating TV shows.

  “Kent Akers? Come on.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “He’s the epitome of a pretty boy, Indy. All hat and no cattle. Surely you can’t be interested in him?”

  I laugh. “And what if I was?”

  “Well, I just thought more of you than that. I mean he’s pretty shallow, don’t you think?”

  “Why do I sense a competition here, Dawson?” I’m finding immense amounts of humor in his apparent jealous streak as I watch his jaw tense and start to palpitate.

  “No competition. You can do what you want. But don’t you think it’s weird that this guy barely knows you…”

  “He was my prom date.”

  He stops speaking and his face goes blank for a moment. “Your prom date?”

  I lean across the table and smile. “Yes. He knows more of me than you do, Mr. Woods.” His mouth drops open a little bit as I stand and walk to the door. “Have a good day.”

  I wish I could turn around and see his face, but it would ruin the moment for me. I’m far too old to play games, but I have to admit that was kind of fun. Maybe being around kids is bringing out my playful side. Or my petty one.

  Harper runs around the house gathering things as she goes. “Do you have your toothbrush?”

  “Yes….” she groans back at me from the end of the hall.

  “And what about your shampoo?”

  “Yes….”

  “Don’t forget an extra pair of underwear…”

  “Aunt Indy! I know!” she yells back from her bedroom. That’s the first time she’s ca
lled me anything. Aunt Indy. I’m okay with that.

  A last minute trip to Olivia’s family’s cabin in the mountains is a welcome surprise for Harper. I wondered if I should let her go. Would Danny have allowed it? I don’t know. But we need a little space from each other, and she’s doing so well in school that I decide to give her some room.

  She comes barreling down the hall with her backpack and pillow, a smile on her face. “I’ve got everything I own.”

  “Oh! What about your vitamins?” I say, looking toward the kitchen cabinet where we keep such things.

  “It’s fine. My body won’t break down over one weekend,” she says as she runs toward the front door. Olivia’s parents’ car pulls into the driveway just as we make it to the foyer.

  “Bye!” she calls over her shoulder as she runs to their car and starts loading her bags into the trunk. I wave at the back of her head and start walking back inside, but she surprises me when she runs back and gives me a quick hug without looking at me. I say nothing and hug her back, but she’s gone before I can really feel the moment.

  It’s progress.

  I sit on the sofa in my now quiet house and take in a deep breath. I miss her, which is not something I expected. It’s Friday night, and I could easily turn on the TV and veg out for the night, but I’m feeling antsy. I want to do something.

  As I’m walking to the kitchen, debating what to do with my evening and considering a glass of wine, I hear a knock at my front door. When I open it, no one is there. Just as I’m about to slam it shut and complain about “kids these days” like an old person, I notice a brown box at the edge of the steps with a big red bow on it. I look around and see no one.

  My first instinct is to call the bomb squad, but I realize I’m in Peach Valley where the likelihood that someone is trying to kill me is pretty small. So I scoop up the box and head back inside, locking the front door behind me.

  There’s no name on the box, so I assume it’s for me since I do own the place. I pull off the one piece of clear tape that’s holding the box together and the flaps pop open to reveal my gift inside. A strobe light.

  I immediately smile. I know exactly who this is from. There’s also a note.

  Dear Indy,

  I’m sorry I acted like an ass about Kent. I miss seeing you dance. Waiting at my window.

  - Dawson

  All of the sudden, I’m transported back to being twelve years old, and butterflies are darting around my empty stomach. Deciding that I need a little liquid courage, I pour a glass of wine and take a sip. I’m not a regular drinker - especially given my family history - but I haven’t danced in years. I need a little something to take the edge off.

  A part of me is screaming, “You’re an adult! Don’t dance in the window. Be serious!” The other part is begging me to let go and have some fun. The second part wins.

  I pull the strobe light out of the box and walk to my old bedroom. As I search my phone for the right dance music, I imagine Dawson sitting in his window, hands under his chin as he waits for the show.

  I find the 80’s channel on my satellite radio app and turn up the volume. Then I plug in the strobe light and start its flashing lights before turning off my bedroom light.

  The only thing left is opening the blinds. I slowly raise them up and can just see the silhouette of Dawson sitting in his window. The sight makes me smile more than I thought it would.

  Taking another sip of my wine, I start moving to a Cyndi Lauper song. Within minutes, I’m my twelve year old self again, arms flailing. My dancing was never sexy, but was always entertaining. Sometimes I’d even invite my girlfriends over to spend the night and join me in my dance party.

  After three songs, I poke my head up to see if Dawson is still there. He’s not. Maybe the show wasn’t as good as he remembered. As I’m staring out into the dark night, he taps on my window and scares me to death.

  “Dawson! You almost gave me a heart attack!” I say as I raise the window up. “Why are you out here?”

  “I wanted a closer look. My eyes aren’t what they used to be,” he says with a smile.

  “Old age getting you?” I respond sarcastically. He leans against the tree outside my window. “I thought maybe my show wasn’t as good as you’d remembered.”

  “Oh, it was better than I remembered. You’ve got skills, Indy.” I know he’s being funny, but the way he says it sounds totally serious.

  “Don’t you have anything better to do with your Friday night?” I ask as I sit on the edge of my windowsill.

  “I can’t remember a Friday night I’ve enjoyed more than this one.” Again, he doesn’t crack a smile.

  “Well, maybe we need to find you a hobby.” I always make jokes when things get serious. It’s a coping mechanism that has served me well my whole life.

  “Stop joking around, Indy,” he says, walking closer until his face is mere inches away. “You always joke when you’re nervous.”

  How does he remember that? “Why would I be nervous?” I am nervous, but I can’t really pinpoint why.

  He finally smiles. “I don’t know, but I’m nervous too.”

  “Why are you nervous?” I ask, swinging my legs outside of the window and wondering where the screens went that we had on the house when I was a kid. I hold on to the molding around the inside of the window.

  “I guess because I can’t believe I’m here.”

  “Where? In Peach Valley?”

  “No. With you again. I never thought this would happen. I hoped it would, but I thought I might never see you again.” He leans back against the tree again a few feet away. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure…”

  “Did you ever think about me? I mean all these years later?”

  I cock my head to the side and pretend to be thinking. Then I decide to be honest. “Yes. All the time.”

  His smile beams so much that I can see it in the dark. “Same here.”

  “You were only in my life for a short time, Dawson. But it was a hard time, and I really appreciated our friendship. It helped me get through a lot, even if you didn’t know it.”

  He sighs and looks up at the clear sky. “Andromeda”

  “What?”

  He points up at the sky. “The constellation. You can only see her during the fall.”

  I laugh. “I didn’t know you were a big constellation expert.”

  He smiles. “When I was a kid, I had a lot of alone time. One of the step dads bought me a book about stars, and I used to stare out my window and try to name them. Andromeda is my favorite.”

  “Why?”

  “The constellation is named for Andromeda, the daughter of Cassiopeia. It’s from a Greek myth. Anyway, as the myth goes, she was chained to a rock to be eaten by a sea monster.”

  “That sounds… violent.”

  “Cassiopeia made the mistake of bragging that Andromeda was prettier than this other chick. Because of that, Poseidon punished Cassiopeia by having these sea monsters attack Ethiopia. But Andromeda’s father found out that he could save them by sacrificing his daughter, so he chained her to a rock.”

  “Nice father.”

  “Yeah. Then along comes the hero of the story - Perseus. He saves Andromeda and then they got married. They say that Athena then put Andromeda in the sky after her death to honor her.” He stares upward. “Want to see her?”

  “Okay,” I say, as I gingerly try to jump down from the window. I start to slip just as Dawson catches me before I hit the ground. My body slides against his as he holds me tightly with his arms around my waist.

  We stand there for a moment until I shuffle my feet. “Got it. Sorry about that.”

  He lets go and looks back up at the sky. “Okay, see that bright star right there above the tree?”

  I look up but I truly have no idea what he’s referring to. “No. Sorry.”

  He steps behind me and puts his arms around my waist again. I feel my legs start to buckle. What is wrong with me? He leans down and put
s his mouth next to my ear.

  “Okay, now look up between those two branches. See that really bright star?”

  “Mhmm…” I say, trying to keep my composure.

  “That’s the brightest star in Andromeda. It’s ninety-seven light years from Earth…”

  He goes on and on, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. All I feel are his strong arms around my waist and his warm breath against my ear. His cologne is invading every one of my senses, and the stubble on his jaw is tickling my own jawline. I’ve never wanted to turn around and kiss someone so much in my life.

  When he’s finished explaining, he steps back. “Cool, huh?”

  “Yes. Cool,” I say, feeling like a teenager even using that word. “I guess I’d better get back inside.”

  “Is Harper here?”

  “No, she went on a weekend trip with Olivia’s family.”

  He smiles. “Mind if I come in? I’m supremely bored at my house. We could order a pizza.”

  “Okay. Let me just climb back through my window and unlock the front door.” I turn and realize my window is way too high to go back into it from his angle. But before I can say anything, I feel Dawson lifting me up, one hand on my butt. His hand is on my butt. I pull myself through the window and walk back to the front door to open it for him, but I stop for a moment to take a deep breath because his hand was just on my butt.

  I call and order the pizza, and they’re going to be at least forty-five minutes because it’s Friday night and people like pizza in Peach Valley, apparently.

  “Want to sit on the patio?”

  “Nope. But I’ll sit on that nifty swing you have,” he says with a chuckle. We walk out to the swing and sit down. “Do you know why I like the Andromeda constellation the most?”

  Great. We’re back on constellations again. “No. Why?”

  “The story. I feel like I’m Andromeda.”

  I giggle. “You’re the female in the story?”

  He nudges me with his shoulder. “Think about it. My mother wasn’t exactly… well, motherly. She basically put me out there as a sacrifice. She didn’t care what happened to me, Indy.”

 

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