The Comeback Kiss

by Lani Diane Rich

  He knelt down in front of Karen Scuderi’s grave and cleared the snow out of the steel vase on the side of her tombstone. He peeled the plastic wrap off the flowers and tucked them into the vase, then crouched down before the grave.

  “I hope you like the flowers,” he said. “I couldn’t find a two-by-four on such short notice.” He laughed lightly at his own joke, then stood up, started to walk away, and turned back.

  “There isn’t much about me that’s loyal and pure.” He took a deep breath of the cold air. “And I know you’re probably hating that I’m back. If it makes you feel better, you’re not alone. But I swear, I won’t let anyone hurt her. Either of them.”

  He stood for a moment longer in silence, then gave Karen one last nod and turned back toward town.

  ***

  “I really think you should call your sister,” Sosie said, her whisper barely audible, even though she was huddled up close to Izzy in the bathroom stall.

  “I can’t,” Izzy said, holding the locket, bundled in tissue paper, out in the palm of her hand. “I have to know, and I can’t do it.” She extended her hand toward Sosie. “Please. Just open it.”

  Sosie bit her lip and tucked a long strand of brown hair behind her ear. She stared down at the tissue, then opened the stall door again to make sure no one else was in the bathroom.

  “Sose, if someone had come in since the last time you checked, we’d hear them.” Izzy pulled the stall door shut again. “Please. I need you. If this is what I think it is, I swear, I’ll run out and find Finn right now and give it to him.”

  Sosie blinked. “What? Cut school? Again?”

  Izzy shrugged. “Yeah. Big deal. Everyone cuts.”

  “Yeah, but didn’t your sister say—”

  Izzy rolled her eyes. “Tessa’s totally paranoid. I’m sixteen. No one’s gonna take me away. Everyone cuts. And if you don’t open that soon, my five-minute pass is going to expire and you know Mr. Dudley. He wrote Shinae up for cutting class when she took too long in the bathroom last week.” She grabbed Sosie’s right hand and slapped the bundle into her friend’s palm. “You wanna keep me out of trouble? Help me.”

  Sosie let out a heavy sigh, then slowly unwrapped the paper. Izzy closed her eyes. There was the sound of tissue crumpling, then a small silence before the click of the locket opening. A little more silence. Another click as the locket closed. More tissue crumpling.

  Izzy opened her eyes. “What?”

  Sosie’s eyes were moist. “Tell me what was in your mother’s locket again?”

  “A picture of Tessa with a beach ball on one side. A picture of me as a baby on the other.”

  Sosie put the bundle back in Izzy’s hand.

  “It’s your mother’s,” she said quietly.

  It was so strange, the way Izzy felt nothing at the words. She didn’t really know what she should be feeling—sadness, anger, confusion—but she expected she’d feel something.

  Instead, she was perfectly calm, completely untouched. This must be what shock feels like, she thought. Although she had suspected these things, part of her had been convinced that it was just her imagination, that the Nancy Drew bit would end in a benign cul-de-sac of reason, and she would look back on it years down the fine and laugh it her own silliness.

  She hadn’t really, truly expected she’d be right. Part of the reason she’d gone to Finn had been to get him to prove her wrong.

  But she wasn’t wrong. Her mother’s locket proved it.

  Numb, she put the bundle back into her pocket, then opened the door to the stall and let herself out.

  “Iz?” Sosie called from behind her as Izzy touched up her lip gloss in the mirror. “What are you gonna do?”

  “I’m gonna go back to trig,” Izzy said, feeling weirdly separate from her own voice. “Mr. Dudley will write me up if I don’t get back.”

  She gave Sosie a tight smile, then headed out the door. She felt like she was floating, like her feet weren’t connecting with the ground. As she moved through the hallway, she was only aware of the thought running through her head.

  Someone killed my mother. She shook her head to push it away, but it stayed, repeating, like an automated message.

  Someone killed my mother. Someone killed my mother.

  It felt like it took a year to get back to trig class, but when she walked in, Mr. Dudley only nodded briefly at her as she took her seat. So her entire life had completely changed in just under five minutes.

  Weird.

  ***

  Tessa tossed herself on the couch and settled the bottle of gin beside her. She liked this. This was good. This felt good. And hell, it was five o’clock somewhere. Moscow, maybe. She picked up the bottle and took another drink, then held it out to see if she could tell how much she’d had.

  It was below the tippy-top of the label now, but only just. She hadn’t had much.

  “Jesus, what a lightweight.” She giggled at the sound of her own voice, having no idea why it was funny but enjoying the feeling of lightness the giggling gave her.

  The front door opened and she heard the clack-clack-clack of little doggy toes on the hardwood floors.

  “Wallace!” she said, and leaned forward a little too fast. Bad idea, that. “Whoa.”

  Wallace hopped up next to her on the sofa and licked her face. She patted him on the head and sat back, pulling the gin with her. It wasn’t until she tipped her face up to take another swig that she noticed Finn standing in front of her, watching her with an amused expression.

  “So, I guess the dog is allowed on the furniture, then?” he asked.

  Tessa finished the swallow—so much smoother than the first swallow had been—and simply smiled and nuzzled Wallace closer to her. She’d already forgotten the question Finn had asked. A moment later, Finn was on the sofa next to her, although she couldn’t exactly recall him moving there. Gently, he pried the bottle from her fingers and she let him, because she was fairly certain she’d had enough.

  “Seventy proof,” he said, one eyebrow quirking up in a way that was so freakin’ cute Tessa had to giggle.

  “And it’s lime-twisted,” she said, pointing to the lime on the bottle. “You don’t even need limes. I ask you, how freakin’ convenient is that?”

  Finn laughed, and it sounded so nice. He had such a nice laugh, all tickly down in his chest.

  Tickly. Tickly. Man, that’s a weird word.

  Finn rested the bottle in his lap, then glanced casually at the clock on the wall before turning his attention back to Tessa, which, quite frankly, was where Tessa liked his attention.

  “So,” he said, “I’m willing to bet cash money that I missed something today.”

  “Oh, you did,” Tessa said. Her head was leaning on his shoulder, and she didn’t remember letting it fall there, but what the hell? “You missed the big show, in which I realized that I’ve been busting my ass for a big, fat zero. You know what I learned today?”

  She lifted her head to look at him and he looked down at her and damn.

  He was cute.

  “I learned,” she said, pushing herself away from him a bit so as not to be distracted by all the cuteness, “that it doesn’t matter how hard you work, or how good you are, how many envelopes full of cash you slide under people’s doors just when they need it most, you’ll never be safe from assholes with padfolios. You know?”

  Finn gave a noncommittal hum and nodded. “Sounds like you’ve had an eventful morning.”

  Tessa sighed. “Hmmm. But, you know, whatever.”

  She reached for the bottle, but he was too quick, holding it just out of her reach.

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she said.

  “Yeah,” he said, chuckling. “In Moscow, maybe.”

  “Hey,” she said softly, “that’s what I said.”

  She pulled back from him a bit so she could focus on his eyes. They were so blue. And so, so pretty.

  “I fear that I’m a lightweight,” she said.

 
He lifted his arm up and over her, resting it behind her on the back of the sofa, his hand playing lazily with her hair.

  “I think that’s a reasonable fear,” he said. “Maybe you should go upstairs and sleep it off.”

  She closed her eyes and let her head slump to the side flattening his hand against the sofa. She heard his laugh—tickly, tickly—and smiled, eyes still closed.

  “I don’t want to sleep it off,” she said. She opened her eyes to see him with his head resting against the sofa, his face just inches from hers.

  Man. He really was good-looking. Why was she resisting his charms again?

  Oh, yeah. Took her virginity. Stole her car. Abandoned her when she needed him most. Completely untrustworthy. Used to be a bird thief.

  Blah blah blah ...

  She raised her head.

  “You know what I want to do?” she said, awkwardly pushing herself up from the sofa. The cushions seemed softer and more sucky than usual, but she managed to get to her feet on her own, which was good.

  “I want to go skating,” she said. “Will you take me skating?”

  Finn stood up. “Aside from the issue of you landing face-first on the ice, I don’t have skates.”

  “No problem.” Tessa walked over to the hall closet and rummaged through all the crap at the bottom. Worn-out shoes, discarded purses that she frankly couldn’t believe were ever in style, something that looked kinda like an old candy bar that she decided to ignore for the moment, and finally—bingo. She grabbed the men’s hockey skates and stood up too fast.

  “Whoa.” She blinked until her vision returned and held the skates out to Finn. He eyed her with a suspicious grin for a few seconds, then took them from her, turning them upside down to check the number printed on the bottom. “My size.” He smiled at her. “How did you know?”

  “Bought them for Joe a few years back, he didn’t like skating, though, so...” She motioned vaguely toward the closet. “They just sort of stayed here.”

  “They’re Joe’s?” he said flatly.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake,” Tessa said. The words were coming out exactly as she thought them. No editing. Nothing. Man, she liked gin. “This thing with you and Joe is really stupid, you know that?”

  Finn raised his eyes to meet hers. “What about the thing with you and Joe?”

  “There is no me and Joe,” she said. Wait. How did he know about her and Joe? “How did you know about me and Joe?”

  It was like an echo. Cool.

  “Forget it,” Finn said. “I’ll wear the skates. It’s no problem.”

  “Did he tell you about us? He told you, didn’t he?”

  “He might have mentioned something,” Finn said. “I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  “Pffft,” Tessa said, sending her bangs flying. “Look, the thing about Joe—he’s a great guy.”

  Finn held up his hands. “You know what? I don’t want to hear this. Sorry I asked. Let’s skate.”

  “No,” she said, waving her finger in the air. “No. You shut up and listen to me.”

  One side of his mouth curved up in a grin. “I like it when you take charge.”

  “Shut up,” she said again. “Joe is a great guy. He’s honest, he’s honorable, and he’s really good-looking. And yes, we dated. Briefly. But he wasn’t...”

  She stopped, knowing in her gut she’d regret it if she opened up on this one, but she couldn’t quite get up the motivation to lie about it.

  “He wasn’t what?” Finn asked, looking down at the skates in his hand.

  “You.” Tessa’s heart gave a little flip as she said it, but what the hell? “He knew it and I knew it and we broke up and he was really great about it and I don’t think either one of us has given it a second thought since.”

  Finn didn’t say anything, just looked at her, at a loss for words.

  Will wonders never cease?

  “Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way,” she said. She walked toward the front door and felt as though her head might be clearing a bit. That was no good. She turned suddenly and slammed into Finn’s chest, which threw her equilibrium all to hell, and she stumbled. Finn caught her wrist with one hand and balanced her. She looked up at him and wobbled a bit.

  “I was gonna go get the gin. I don’t want to sober up.”

  He released her wrist and put his hand on her neck, his thumb running over her face. “You have to sober up, babe. Izzy’s gonna be home from school—”

  Tessa shook her head. “She works at Margie’s today.”

  “Then she’ll be home from Margie’s. That gives us, what, maybe five hours to indulge whatever this is, and hen we’ve gotta be grown up again. Okay?”

  Tessa nodded, feeling the warmth from his hand seeping into her neck.

  It felt so good. So good.

  “Fine,” she said. She took the skates from his hand and tossed them at the closet. She missed by about five feet and they took a small chunk out of the wall before rattling to the floor. Whatever. Tessa put both arms around Finn’s neck and pulled herself up against him.

  “Let’s indulge, then,” she said quietly.

  He laughed lightly, his eyebrows quirking together in a way that was really, well, cute.

  “Tessa...” he started.

  “Shhhh,” she said. She placed a finger on his lips and didn’t know if the thump-thump-thump she felt was coming from her heart or his, but either way, it was time they did something about it. She lowered her finger from his lips, then stepped up on her toes and tilted her head slightly. All he had to do was lean down just the tiniest bit and meet her.

  Which he wasn’t doing. She felt the hardness of him below, so she knew he was feeling something. She slowly lowered down on her heels and looked up at him.

  “Okay,” she said. “Well, I feel stupid, which means I’m definitely not drunk enough.”

  “Tessa . ..” He trailed off and she could see the tension in his face. Didn’t make her feel any less stupid, though.

  “No, it’s no big deal,” she said. “Let’s go skating.”

  She took a step toward the front door, but he caught her arm and stopped her.

  “You think this is easy for me, having to shut this down? It’s killing me, Tess.”

  “Then here’s a thought. Don’t. Saves your life. Saves my dignity. Sounds like a win-win to me.”

  He slowly released her arm. “You’re drunk. You don’t really want this.”

  “Don’t tell me what I want,” she said. “I’m not a child.”

  “If you knew...” He stopped talking, shook his head, breathed in deep, and started again. “If you knew all the facts, you wouldn’t want this.”

  “What?” she said. “If I knew you used to steal birds for a living?”

  He blinked and eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You know about that?”

  “Babs told me yesterday. Pffft.” She waved her hand in the air in a dismissive gesture. “Big whoop.”

  Finn’s expression transitioned from surprise to anger, and yet he was still so cute. How did he do that?

  “You know what?” he said. “This is the thing. Never trust a woman to keep a confidence.”

  “She also told me that you were responsible for half a million in donations to St. Jude’s last year.”

  Finn’s face was unreadable. “She did, huh?”

  Tessa nodded. “Yes. She also said you were a good man. She said she’d trust you with everything she owned. She said—”

  He held up his hand to stop her. “I get it.”

  “She said you saved her daughter’s life.”

  “Did she tell you that I was the one who put her daughter in danger in the first place?” he said, his voice hard. There’s a difference between being a hero and not being a total asshole, Tess. I’ll cop to one, but not the other.”

  “Why can’t you just accept that you might not be as worthless as you like to think?”

  “I’m not the one having trouble accepting real
ity.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You know what it means.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to him in one swift motion, and her breathing quickened.

  “It means this. What happens to us when we’re together.” He reached up and brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. Tessa felt her skin grow hot, and her imagination was just about to take her to the very good place when he pulled his hand away.

  Crap.

  “You’re letting all that confuse you. It doesn’t change the facts of who and what I am. I’m not the kind of person you should have in your life, Tessa, for a million reasons, not the least of which is you keeping Izzy.”

  Oh. God. Izzy. Mary Ellen Neeley. Crap.

  “Funny you should mention that, actually,” she said, “since it really doesn’t matter anymore.”

  He released her arm slowly. “Yes, it does. You just don’t care now because you’re drunk, but—”

  “They’re gonna take Izzy away,” she said, surprised when the words came out. The room went dead silent, and when she finally looked up, Finn was staring at her, his expression dark.

  “Who’s gonna take Izzy away?” he asked.

  “Mary Ellen Neeley thinks that living with me is not in Izzy’s best interests. She came by this morning. She—”

  Tessa swallowed, fighting off the tears. She did not want to cry.

  Finn reached out and touched her arm and his compassion sent a shocking wave of hurt through her. She pulled away from him.

  “Look,” she said. “My buzz is beginning to wear off and I don’t want to feel this.”

  “Feel what?”

  “This,” she said, waving both hands by her face in a weak attempt to stave off the inevitable torrent to come. “Izzy is everything, Finn. She’s my whole life. I don’t have a life without her.”

  “Hey,” he said, his voice soft, “sure you do.”

  “No. I don’t. And it’s okay. I’m not upset about that. Everything I’ve given up, everything I didn’t do...” She felt her breath catch in her chest as their eyes met. “I’d give it all up again. She means that much to me. And if they take her away again...”