Graphite

by Anne Leigh

  The overhead speakers sounded, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are now boarding the flight to Dallas.”

  My brother stood up, secured his backpack, and pushed my carry-on luggage. “Let’s go.”

  I stretched my arms as I stood and texted Bishop that we were boarding.

  Hanna had stopped texting, I’d rather she enjoyed her time with her parental units than spend her time on her phone so I didn’t send her any more messages.

  Mom had already been hounding me about my schedule for my time at home, which meant I barely had any time for myself. She was not pleased when I divulged that I was only staying for three days. She’d gone on about missing Silvie’s fiftieth. I thought the woman was in her seventies but oh well. And she even tried to guilt me into staying another day for the annual pumpkin festival that her friend, Shari, threw. I’d say the festival wasn’t about pumpkins. It was about updating each other about the latest gossip which they could have easily talked about in their weekly luncheons.

  I’d bribed Rikko to not tell Mom and Dad that I didn’t really have to go back to San Diego right away. We had an even and justifiable exchange. I forgave him (finally!) for not picking me up at the airport the first time I’d arrived in San Diego, and I wouldn’t touch his car either if he brought me to the airport so I could fly to Colorado.

  My brother readily agreed. Anything to get me to not touch or drive his car was beneficial to him.

  “Aisle or window?” Rikko asked before we entered the plane.

  “Window.” I always preferred the windows. I could see the awesome views from the plane through them and also I didn’t want to get elbowed by a passenger trying to go down the aisles.

  “Okay,” Rikko said as he smiled at the pretty flight attendant who eyed him with interest.

  Gross.

  My brother was such a flirt. I felt sorry for his future girlfriend or wife. Aside from his grotesque habits of not washing the dishes he ate in, there wasn’t one girl who’d held his attention for more than two months.

  We settled ourselves in our seats and minutes later, we heard the overhead voices instructing us to fasten our seatbelts since we were taking off shortly.

  My brother’s eyes bore into mine and he asked, “You want a mint, Sissy?”

  We didn’t fly much when we were kids, but when we did, the first few times, I was scared of how loud the plane could be when we took off. My brother always held my hand through it until we were flying comfortably in the clouds.

  “Sure.” I took it from his proffered hand and said, “Thank you.”

  He nodded and said, “It’s gonna be okay.”

  I replied with, “I know.”

  He was trying to reassure me in his grown-up, older brotherly way, that he has my back. After the scuffle with Scott, I knew that to Rikko, I was first before his best friend.

  I had no doubts that he played his hand when it came to Bishop so that my boyfriend would be given the benefit of the doubt and not be ostracized by his Greek family.

  He might be a total flirt to all the ladies, but he was the best brother I could have ever asked for.

  “You’ll see him in a few days,” Rikko muttered against the roaring sound of the plane taking off.

  I chewed on the mint, smiled, and eyed the flight attendants who were now doing the safety demos, “I know.”

  Knowing that I’d be in Bishop’s arms in a few days lit the fire of hope that had dimmed as the plane rose from the ground. I’d see my parents, spend the holiday with them, and then I’d be under the warmth of the man I loved in less than four days.

  And I couldn’t wait to be in his arms again.

  It’s only been a day, but my mother had already filled up the cup of patience I’d saved for times like these.

  Kara, this is not the way the dress is supposed to fit on you. Why is it shorter on you? Did you gain weight? Those freshman fifteen aren’t good for you.

  Every Thanksgiving, from the time I could pronounce the word, my family hosted a big party for my parents’ closest friends and their families.

  My mother had our dresses designed by her close friend, Anette, the creative director of Vogue for a decade before she retired and started her own clothing company. Anette and her team kept a book of my body measurements and for all the gaudy, over-the-top stuff that my mom did, I often complemented Anette for the fabulous designs she created.

  The fact that her team worked well with my Mom was another thing that should send them in God’s graces.

  “Mother, this is knee length and it fits perfectly.” I rolled my eyes and drank the champagne that one of the servers offered from his tray. “Besides, I may have gained a few pounds, but I love the way my body looks and I’m not a freshman. I’m a junior.”

  She looked at me with her blue eyes and a stern face, the weight of the diamonds on her face as heavy as the sigh she let out under her breath, before saying, “Mingle. There’s Mikey, the son of Senator Newey and Jack, the oldest heir to that bottling company.”

  The crape myrtles may change its foliage from bright yellow to red and orange, but my mother’s matchmaking motives will never be camouflaged.

  “Mom. Please.” I gnashed on my teeth. It wasn’t worthwhile to constantly spar with her, but I always let her know that I wasn’t on board with her plans.

  Rikko closed in on us. I had to admit, he looked okay in his dark suit and silver grey tie. It coordinated well with the plum color of my dress and the silver tints that mom’s dress was adorned with.

  “Momma, let’s go,” Rikko announced, veering our mother away from me. “Introduce me to all the pretty ladies.”

  He looked back and winked, I raised my almost empty champagne glass to toast his success.

  While my mother loved to find ‘suitable’ matches for me, she dreaded introducing the young ladies of good breeding to my brother.

  She always said that those ladies were just looking for purse enhancers and protectors.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t comprehend the hare-brained ideas that Mom came up with. What was the difference in her actively pursuing a mate for me and the young ladies that she was hating on?

  My relationship with Scott was never broadcasted to my mom. She always thought that I hung out with him because he was my brother’s best friend. She never really paid attention to Scott.

  He came from a wealthy family, but for my mom, he wasn’t wealthy enough and since his family didn’t come from the money off of railroad tracks and gold mines rather Scott’s grandfather made his fortune by selling stocks, Mom didn’t for once consider him as potential boyfriend/husband material.

  My phone vibrated inside the Judith Leiber clutch purse that made for the perfect accessory and I pulled it out.

  “Better keep everyone else’s hands away from you, babe, or I’ll break them one by one.” I’d sent Bishop a selfie of me in my glammed up state an hour earlier and he was only responding now. He’d been busy snowboarding and he must’ve just gotten to their hotel.

  Two days.

  Forty eight hours and I was flying to be with him.

  “I love you,” I responded back. We Facetimed last night and I ended up changing my jammies.

  One look at me and Bishop had been begging for me to reprieve him from his miserable state of blue balls. It was really cute how he could get hard just by watching me comb my hair even when he’d had me less than twenty-four hours ago.

  “Fun party?” My phone beeped and I was going to answer him when Mikey, the creepy son of Texas Senator Newey, approached, “I thought that phones weren’t allowed inside.”

  Phone were allowed.

  He just made that up.

  His black eyes roved around my chest that was covered by the tulle material, but being this close to him made me feel all sorts of yucky so I moved an inch away.

  “Hey Mikey.” I greeted him in a plain voice, “I didn’t know you were back.”

  He went to Purdue and I’d heard he was kicked out because he had
the knack of spying on college girls inside the privacy of their dorms.

  “I’ve been back.” He shrugged his shoulders, and with a stare that was meant to exert power over me, he said, “Maybe we can have coffee sometime.”

  Not in your lifetime.

  Dressed in a pinstripe suit and jacket, he looked like a charming Texan gentleman. That was the thing with snakes; you didn’t really know their venom until they bit you.

  I had just turned fifteen and I’d wanted to kiss a guy. He was in my tennis club so I decided to practice it on him. As soon as my lips had touched his, it had felt slimy and I wanted to leave from where we were hiding, the spot between the two large cherry bark oak trees. But he’d put his hands on me, refusing my departure.

  My brother was looking for me so he’d caught us and when he saw what was happening, he’d pushed Mikey to the ground, and since then the creep didn’t bother me. He’d only started coming to our family parties since three years ago. My father was a strong supporter of Senator Newey and maybe Mikey was being forced to attend this party, but I could care less.

  “Everything okay?” I hadn’t seen him so I didn’t have time to prepare for this. And these days, I wanted to be prepared for anything that involved him.

  Scott eyed Mikey and I, and he knew right away that Mikey was making me uncomfortable.

  “Hey.” A shadow of a glare appeared in Mikey’s dark eyes for a second then he said, “Everything’s cool. I’m just gonna go grab a drink.”

  Mikey’s hurried steps brought a rise in Scott’s eyebrows.

  “Creep,” Scott whispered.

  He was wearing a black classic fit suit that had a chest pocket. He’d paired it with a classic red tie and he looked great wearing it.

  “You look beautiful, Kara.” Longing now occupied his light green eyes, and I had to turn my eyes away from him to settle my heightened nerves. Nerves that had been on high alert since Mikey had been in close proximity.

  “Thank you. You look great, too.” I returned the favor and I was being honest.

  Scott’s looks would never pass as normal. He’d been asked to model for those high-end athletic couture since he was a teen, but he’d always refused. And even if he hadn’t, he couldn’t commit to the grueling schedule of athletics, school, and modeling, if he had gone into it, and his medical appointments.

  I could see my brother charming the ladies by the entrance to the solarium. Senators, prominent architects, and businessmen were gathered inside the grand ballroom, but I chose to linger in my favorite spot. My corner was the perfect area to view everything that was going on and Scott knew this. This was where we’d chat for a few minutes then leave to hide in my bedroom upstairs or the family room on the other side of the house.

  It would be so easy to go back to old habits, but the clutch on my right arm housed my connection to the man who held my heart.

  “I miss you.” Raw, honest words. The look in his eyes was just as scarred. “Please don’t leave, Kiki…”

  I heard the chatter in the large room, but I honed in on him.

  “I always thought that you’d be the one I marry, you know?” He wasn’t looking at me, but rather he was staring at the couples who’d started dancing in the middle of the ballroom. We were far enough to not be bothered by the loud music yet close enough to be swept in by the circus of my mother’s extravaganza. “I took you for granted and I can’t say sorry enough. Now that I’ve lost you, I’ve never felt so lost and alone. Football has always been my life, but losing you showed me that there’s more to it. I wish I could go back in time to repair the damage I’ve done.”

  Rivulets of tears started to form in my tear ducts, but I ordered them not to fall. I didn’t want it to ruin my makeup. And I didn’t want to show Scott that I was softening to him. He was vindictive to Bishop and I didn’t appreciate it. At all. I didn’t hear it directly from my boyfriend because Bishop wouldn’t say what really went on in that frat meeting. I had my own reliable source. My personal bodyguard who had been more of a friend to me than anything else. Cody had spilled everything to me and as much as I wanted to do the Texas beat down on Scott, I’d been sworn to secrecy.

  I saw the strains in his eyes and noticed that he’d lost weight. To some losing weight would be an advantage, but not to a guy like Scott.

  And stress wasn’t good for him either.

  “Scott, you need to move on. We both need to move on from what we’ve had and maybe later we can have that friendship again,” I said, hoping that my words would seep through his senses. “I love Bishop and I’m not going back to you.”

  He breathed in, “I’m not doing great…I’m pushing myself to the point where I know it’s going to take so little before it happens again.”

  No one ever said that relationships were pieces of cake that you could just devour and let the crumbs fall away, be swept up, and thrown in the trash.

  My relationship with Scott started with friendship and he would always hold a place inside my heart, but I couldn’t be with him anymore. Not when my heart wasn’t in my possession anymore, when it was beating for a guy who was enjoying the slopes of Aspen with his sister.

  “I’m sorry, Scott,” I said, hoping that my eyes could show how much I empathized with him. “You can always talk to me as a friend. I’m here for you as a friend. But anything more than that, I have to ask Bishop if it’s okay with him.”

  I could still go with him to his appointments if that was what he needed, but Bishop would have to be okay with it. I wouldn’t want my man to hurt without reason.

  “I get it. I do.” Scott’s voice broke and his sad eyes penetrated through me, making me feel deflated. “I just want you to know that I won’t stop fighting…if there’s any chance I could get you back, I will take it.”

  He reached for me and gave me a small kiss on the side of my right cheek and slowly, he stepped away.

  Fat tears fell from my lids and I knew that my face was a mess. I turned away from the gregarious dancers and the incessant chatter, hoping that I had the chance to fix my face before my mother saw me.

  The elevator was occupied so even when my feet were going to rebel from going up the staircase, I walked towards it. It was the closest path to reach my bedroom.

  I was a few steps away from reaching the bottom of the staircase when I heard a commanding voice, “Miss Chamberlane, can I talk to you?”

  Glancing to my right, I saw the light green eyes that reminded me so much of my ex-boyfriend. His face also held the same structure, but unlike Scott’s defeated eyes, the look reflected on this older gentleman’s face was calculating and hard.

  “Oh hello, Samuel.” The last time I saw him was in a room that housed all of his life’s achievements, where the walls boasted of his place in academia. There, I called him Mister Strauss.

  Under the confines of my parents’ house, I’d always called him Samuel. He had insisted.

  I acknowledged his request and said, “Can it wait?”

  “No. I’m afraid not.” His face held a determined edge and it would not be wise of me to cross him. Not when he’d stuck out his reputation for me.

  “Okay.” I tilted my head to the side and motioned for the foyer. “How can I help you, sir?”

  I’d lived a fortunate life.

  A good life.

  A great one.

  My parents were not perfect, but they tried to be, in their own warped versions.

  My brother wasn’t either but he was the best.

  At an early age, I learned to pick my battles and knew which ones I won and which ones I had the chance of winning.

  It only took five minutes for him to tell me what he wanted.

  And in those five minutes, I determined that the odds were stacked against me.

  I’d already lost before I even engaged in battle.

  So I sent the message that broke my heart.

  And tore my soul open.

  “I’m sorry. I realized that I still love Scott. I want to be wi
th him. I can’t make it to Aspen.”

  Then I watched the text bubble take shape on the screen, but I turned it off before I saw his reply.

  I took my shoes off and felt the cold, hard marble underneath the soles of my feet.

  The climb to my room, the room that had heard the soft cries of my childhood, seemed unbearable as if my body was losing air every second, but I eyed the thirty-two steps and slowly, I lifted my leg –

  Right foot up,

  Left foot up.

  Two.

  Left foot up,

  Right foot up,

  Three…

  Bishop

  I discovered Aspen on a trip with my high school friends. It was one of those trips that my school organized for a winter camp. My parents had signed off on it because our high school hockey coach proclaimed that it was a great place to train.

  Since then, whenever I wanted to be in a private place without having to get out of the country, I’d book a trip to either Aspen in the winter or Charleston, South Carolina in the summer.

  “Bishop!” My sister’s voice sounded off from the distance.

  “Yep, I’m awake,” I grumbled as I said the words. She’d brought her new friend, Rianna, on this trip and they’d been chatting non-stop since we boarded the plane from L.A.

  “Is your arthritic knee acting up? Can’t hang with the young ones anymore?” She was exceptionally cheery for eight-thirty in the morning. I’d woken them up at six thirty so we could take advantage of the fresh powder before everyone else woke up.

  “Just resting and taking in the view,” I said, and took in the breathtaking views of the Burnt Mountain Glades, the snow-tipped pines always made me look twice and for a second, I longed for my Canadian roots, where I’d spent parts of my childhood watching from my bedroom window as the snow fell on the trees.