Fade to Us

by Julia Day

  “Do you hike often?” I asked.

  “Not as much as I would like.” His lips twisted. “I stay busy.”

  “With what?”

  He scanned the canopy of trees overhead. “School. Theater. More theater.” There was a weird edge to his voice.

  As we picked our way over a crumbling slide of rock, I overbalanced and wobbled. He caught my hand and steadied me.

  “Thanks.” I smiled my gratitude.

  “Sure.” He released my hand and looked down the trail. Another couple approached from the opposite direction. We shifted to one side and mumbled a greeting as they passed.

  My stumble seemed to lighten things between us. We continued along the trail, chatting occasionally, soaking up the sunlight drifting through the trees. The hidden creek finally made its appearance, paralleling the trail. Micah’s head shifted from side to side as he took in the serenity of the forest.

  We paused at the top of a ridge. There were a lot of people out today, but most of the crowd seemed to be leaving. Little kids hurried to keep up with their parents, voices piping loudly. Younger couples walked by, holding hands, some with a sweaty, sleeping baby in a carrier, its legs flopping with each step the parent took.

  I pointed to a set of wooden steps that disappeared over a bluff. “That’s the easiest way down.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Once we reached the riverbank and the rock—as if it made sense to call a mile-wide formation “a rock”—nature had worked its charm. Micah had relaxed and told me about the school he attended, the classes he would take this fall, and his nerdy group of friends.

  I spread a blanket on a clear spot with a great view of the Cape Fear River. He set our backpacks on a corner of the blanket and sat beside me.

  After a minute, I’d had enough of watching the water flow. I laid down and wiggled for comfort.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Looking at the clouds. Join me.”

  He held out for a minute before lying down on his side of the blanket.

  “Micah, do you ever get tired of the theater?”

  His head turned toward me. “You noticed that earlier, huh?”

  I nodded.

  He looked back at the sky. “Yeah, I do get tired, especially at my high school. The drama teacher counts on me to be the stage manager for every production. I don’t mind occasionally, but it would be nice to have a semester free.”

  “So do it. Take the fall semester off.”

  “I don’t have a good excuse.”

  “Yes, you do. You’d like a semester free. That ought to be good enough. But if you’d rather give her an excuse that sounds more important, remind her that this is your semester to hunt for colleges. You’ll be busy.”

  “She knows better than that. I’ll go to Elon.”

  “Really? Do you want to?”

  He met my gaze again, his expression unreadable. “You have a lot of questions.”

  “I’ll bet you do, too.” I rolled to my side and propped my head up on my hand. “Do you think you’re being fair to the other theater majors at Elon?”

  “Fair?”

  “Yeah. It would be hard for anyone else to compete against you in your mother’s department. And when you get picked for something, you’ll never know for sure why.”

  “I’ve never thought about it that way.”

  “So think. It can’t hurt to go on campus visits for other schools. Either it’ll prove that there is a better place for you, or it’ll make you positive that Elon is best.”

  His grin held a trace of amusement. “Natalie says you’re bossy. I have to agree.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “That’s how I intended it.”

  I laid down again. Silently, we watched the breeze ruffle the leaves overhead and listened to the rush of the river, completely at peace with the day.

  From the bluff above us came the high-pitched voices of children and the low responses of adults. Feet thumped on the wooden steps that served as a shortcut to the river.

  “Come on,” I said, sitting up. “This spot is about to be overrun with little people. There are other trails to conquer.”

  * * *

  Two hours later, we emerged from a rarely used trail into the parking lot, tired and dusty. We finished our water and tossed the bottles into a recycle bin.

  When we reached his car, I said, “Stand still. It’s time for a tick check.”

  “Go for it.”

  I checked his neck, collar, and hair—then scrutinized his clothes. And if I used extraordinary care during the examination, that would be because I was a conscientious person. “You look tick free. My turn.”

  He repeated my actions with precise movement. The touch of his fingers was fleeting, and burned into my memory forever.

  “You’re good, too.” He looked back over the parking lot. “I enjoyed this.”

  The hope that had died Friday night was flickering back to life. “Micah?”

  He shook his head and opened my door. “Let’s go.” While I slid onto the seat, he grabbed our two backpacks and carried them to the trunk.

  I got the message. His feet were firmly planted on his side of the friendly line.

  20

  The Missing Connection

  While Lisa met with the cast for their Monday morning pep talk, I went on my first round of errands. Checking with Elena for news. Taking messages to counselors about absent campers. Ensuring that all props had been correctly stored.

  I ended my run in the auditorium and scanned the room. Micah sat in the front row aisle seat, jotting notes and laughing with the rest of them. Natalie sat directly behind him, hands folded in her lap, head back, studying the ceiling.

  He looked up, caught me staring, and smiled faintly. Natalie tapped him on the shoulder, spoke into his ear, and reclined again after he answered.

  When Lisa finished speaking, Micah stepped forward. “Okay, everyone, we’ll rehearse the auction scene after small groups. See you in forty minutes.” As the auditorium cleared, he gestured toward the wings. “Do you have a moment?” he asked crisply.

  His tone worried me. Was something wrong? “Sure.”

  I followed him into the wings and down the hall. When he reached the staff lounge, he waited for me to enter and closed the door behind us. “About tonight?”

  “Yes?”

  He crossed his arms. Dropped them again. Smiled shyly. “I’m free after the production team meeting. Can I hang out with you?”

  In all the times I’d been asked on an actual date, none had ever delighted me as much as Micah’s sweetly nervous question. “Definitely.”

  “It’s your turn to decide.”

  “How about a baseball game?” Okay, I had a plan ready. Just in case. “My mom is umping a game in Sanford.”

  “Sounds good. When?”

  “Seven.” Impulsively, I hugged him. He smelled amazing. Fresh clothes, soap, and Micah.

  His arms closed around me briefly before he eased away. “I have to get back to the auditorium.”

  I walked through the door ahead of him and detoured to the office to see if Elena needed anything. Before I went in, though, I watched until he disappeared into the wings.

  * * *

  It was early afternoon when Micah crouched beside me at the director’s table. “You should check on Natalie.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing more than a feeling Norah has. The girls’ ensemble is in choreography.”

  I found my stepsister in a practice room. Norah motioned me over when I entered. “Natalie’s anxious. She’s not getting the simplest of the steps.”

  My stepsister stumbled a beat or two behind everyone else. She had her fists clenched against her thighs, a sure sign that she knew she was messing up.

  “I’ll go back to the hallway,” I whispered to Norah. “Can you get her out there?”

  “Yeah.”

  As I left, Norah was speak
ing. “Claire, could I borrow Natalie for a moment?”

  When Natalie joined us in the hall, she sighed loudly. “What is it?” Her voice sounded tired.

  “What’s upsetting you?”

  “Claire is doing the steps too fast. I can’t keep up.”

  “Have you told her?”

  “The other girls are getting them, and I don’t want to look stupid.” Her fists thumped against her thighs. “Plus it’s backward.”

  “How?”

  “When she’s using her right hand, we’re supposed to use our left hand, and that doesn’t make sense to me. She’s also using words that I don’t know what they mean, but everybody else must, because no one is asking for an explanation.”

  Norah smiled. “Do you want me to ask Claire to face the same direction as you, so that your right hands are moving at the same time?”

  “Yes.”

  I pulled my phone from my shorts pocket. “If I recorded the choreography, you could practice at home. Would that help?”

  Natalie’s fists slowed. “It might.”

  Norah held out her hand. “If you don’t mind me using your phone, Brooke, I can do the recording. It would be less obvious, too.”

  Natalie nodded. “That’s a good plan.”

  “Okay.” I handed the phone to Norah and left. When I reached the next hallway, I looked back. Natalie and her counselor hadn’t gone into the studio yet. They stood beside each other, heads together. Natalie listened as Norah spoke earnestly.

  I went on, glad that this problem seemed solved and relieved that I wasn’t the only one involved in the solution.

  * * *

  Micah rushed in late for the production team meeting, clutching his binder. “Okay, everyone. Since tomorrow is Independence Day, I’ll keep this meeting short. Mail me your notes. See you Wednesday.”

  His announcement was met with a smattering of applause and whoops as the team stood and grabbed their backpacks. He waited until the room was empty to speak. “When should we leave for the game?”

  “If we ride with my mom, we have to go now.”

  “We can take my car.”

  “That gives us an extra thirty minutes.”

  “Let me take Mom home, then I’ll be over.”

  * * *

  My mother was hovering impatiently in the utility room when Natalie and I got home from the arts center. Natalie went straight up to her room.

  “You’re calling it close,” she said. “Keys.”

  I dropped them in her hand and stepped aside to let her pass. “Mom?”

  “Uh-huh?” She paused, gripping the doorknob.

  “When will Jeff be home?”

  “He’s on his way. Why?”

  “I’m coming to the game tonight. Just wanted to make sure someone would be here for Natalie.”

  “How will you get there?”

  “A friend’s driving me.”

  “A guy friend?”

  “Micah.”

  “From the theater? Natalie’s Micah?”

  So I wasn’t the only one who recognized how important he was to her. “Yes.”

  “Is this a date?”

  “Nope.”

  Her eyebrow arched skeptically.

  If she only knew how much I wished it were. “No. He’s driving me to the game. Nothing more.”

  “Uh-huh.” She leaned against the doorframe, studying my face intently. “Honey, be careful there. Natalie is fixated on Micah.”

  “I know.”

  My dejection must’ve been clear, because Mom’s lips curved sympathetically. “I’m sure the two of you don’t feel the same way about him, but that doesn’t change what Natalie believes. She has a prior claim, and you’re poaching.”

  “There are different kinds of like.”

  “True, which she probably understands intellectually. But the type of like matters less to Natalie than its intensity. At the moment, she’s intense about him. Remember how she was when Jeff and I were first engaged?”

  “Yes. She didn’t seem to like us much.” It had been painful.

  “It wasn’t really that. Natalie hadn’t spent much time around Jeff while he was in the military. Once he retired, she was finally able to be around him more. And just as that started to go well, you and I showed up. A new stepmom and stepsister—who got to live with her dad. It took months of reassurance before she could see that she hadn’t been replaced in Jeff’s eyes.”

  I didn’t have months to reassure her. “Are you telling me to back off?”

  “No. From the little I’ve seen of Micah, I’d say he’s worth it. I’m just warning you to acknowledge the potential consequences of what you’re doing.”

  My mother had put into words the fear I’d been carrying around for days. “Micah wants to keep it friendly. There’s no poaching involved.”

  “Uh-huh. Then you’re safe from complications, aren’t you?” She pushed through the door to the carport.

  I ran upstairs and into my room. After a full day in these clothes, I had to change, though the new outfit would require a delicate balancing act. It had to look nice but couldn’t scream trying-to-impress. I decided on a lacy tank top, denim skirt, sandals, cute copper earrings—then finished with lip gloss and my hair in a knot. I’d just grabbed my purse when the doorbell rang.

  Natalie managed to make it down the stairs before me. She burst onto the veranda, where Micah was leaning against a pillar. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m going to a ball game with Brooke.”

  “They’re not much fun. Why would you want to do that?”

  “I thought Micah might enjoy watching Mom ump a game,” I said, crossing my fingers that Natalie would refuse what I was about to ask. “Do you want to come with us?”

  “One time was enough. Will I be alone?”

  “Jeff should be home soon.”

  She looked back toward Micah. “I sent you a text. You haven’t answered yet.”

  “I can tell you the answer now,” he said. “Yes, your dress can be loose, not fitted. And I won’t forget to tell the costume designer.”

  Without another word, Natalie spun around and ran back into the house.

  “Ready?” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  Once we were in his Subaru, Micah keyed the destination into the GPS and pulled away. “How long has your mother been an umpire?”

  “Ten years.”

  “I haven’t seen a lot of female umpires.”

  “There aren’t many. Do you like baseball?”

  “To watch, not to play. My brother was on our high school baseball team. They made it to the state championship his senior year.”

  “Really? Mom’s umped those games for a couple of years.” I’d attended most of them, too. A thought tickled at my brain. “Which brother?”

  “Jude.”

  “Jude Dalton is your brother.” I couldn’t remember a face, but the name was familiar. “Western Alamance High School. They made it to the semifinals last year.”

  “Yeah.” Micah’s voice had tightened.

  “Does he play anymore?”

  “Nah. He lost interest. He likes being a star, and he’s not good enough to be one in college.”

  Oh, wow. That was as close to snark as I’d ever heard come from Micah’s mouth. What was up between him and his middle brother? I’d always wanted siblings. Badly. I’d hoped and waited and prayed until I’d finally accepted that it wouldn’t happen. It always fascinated me when friends lucky enough to have siblings didn’t get along.

  I was so lost in my thoughts, I hardly noticed as Micah merged into the westbound traffic of the highway.

  “Brooke.” He sounded hesitant. “In a friendly relationship, is it safe to ask anything?”

  I rolled my head toward Micah and frowned at his profile. That wasn’t the most comforting way to start a conversation. “It’s safe to ask, and it’s also safe to say no if you don’t want to answer.”

  “Sounds fair.” His hands drummed a f
aint rhythm on the steering wheel. “Will you tell me about your father?”

  I needed to have a talk with my stepsister. The story wasn’t a secret, but it was private. I had the right to decide who got to know and who didn’t. “Natalie’s told you why I don’t have one.”

  He nodded. “Does it feel strange?”

  “Not in a bad way.” I hesitated, uncertain about how much I was willing to say. Guess I’d just go slowly and see how it felt. “A lot of people don’t have their dads around. I think it would be worse to know they’re not in your life because they don’t want to be.”

  “What’s your opinion of the man?”

  “I don’t really have an opinion. But…” As always when I thought about this, a nameless void yawned inside me. “It’s hard to describe my reaction toward my biological father. Mostly, it’s just … zero. I’m not exactly happy about him. I’d have to know the guy to feel happy. But I’m not mad either. He gave me life.”

  Micah’s brow was creased, as if he had more questions, but he wasn’t asking them. Was he leaving it to me to decide whether to say more? I liked that. “When I was little, if I could have, I would’ve ordered a father online. The shiny deluxe model—not the version that some of my friends have.” My hands curled against my thighs. “There are ways that being fatherless is good. I’ll never experience the pain of losing my dad to death or abandonment. I won’t have to face the disappointment of an absentee father who breaks his promises, who doesn’t care enough to know me.”

  “Is it okay to say I’m sorry?”

  “Don’t be. I have an amazing mom and the best stepfather I could ever want. I know how lucky I am.” I really believed that, too. Jeff was almost enough, and I’d grown used to ignoring the missing connection that could never be bridged.

  I lapsed into silence and studied Micah. He drove the same way he ran the show. Controlled. Confident. Relaxed.

  His lips twitched, as if he knew I was watching him. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” I hesitated, then added, “Thanks.”

  His hand touched mine lightly. Comfort given and received.

  I already had a long list of reasons to like Micah, and now I would add one more. I’d never noticed before how attractive nice was.