Everywhere I turn there is somewhere I can point out and say I did such and such with my parents. It’s a thrilling feeling, and I can’t help the smile that crosses my face.
Most people presumed because I grew up with rich parents that it meant I was spoiled. They thought I was taken to different countries every week and lavished with outrageous gifts, but the truth is my parents never really spent money on anything extravagant. My horse was as flashy as they got.
But I wouldn’t have had them any other way because they gave me Cabin Lake. They gave me a home and brought me up to cherish everything I was blessed with. I wasn’t spoiled. I was given minimal pocket money just like any other kid my age. They showered me with love and affection, not material things.
I guess being back here, back to my roots as such, has brought back those memories for me. And as hard as they are, I’m blessed with every single one of them. My parents gave me them, gave me that treasure, and I’ll be forever grateful.
I’m in complete bliss by the time I’m jumping off Dolly. There is nothing like having the wind blowing in your hair, your mind free of thought and being surrounded by fresh air, the smell of trees and cut grass. I’m so out of it I don’t realise we’ve been out here for hours; I’ve been having too much fun and reminiscing. I’m surprised I remembered how to ride her, but once I was up, it was just like riding a bike.
I grin, rubbing my hand down Dolly’s neck before turning back to Dean. “That was amazing.”
“It never gets old, does it?” His grin is infectious, and I can’t help my own. “She loved having you,” he says as he strokes down her muzzle.
“I can’t believe she even remembered me.” I’m still in awe of how she reacted when I first walked up to her. She was going mad in her stall, and as soon as I reached her, she was shoving her nose in my face, demanding fuss. “Who takes her out?” I ask him, something I’ve wondered a couple of times before now.
“I do.” He shrugs it off, acting like it’s not a big deal. My heart beats wildly and melts. “I take Hunter out for a good run, clean him down and then come back and do the same with Dolly.”
“Well, thank you. I think I blocked out so much of my life back then that a lot of stuff didn’t even register. I feel so selfish for leaving everyone, and Dolly.” I sigh. “Thank you. Thank you for looking after her.”
“You really need to stop apologising to me. You don’t need to. Plus, I was only looking after her until you got back. Now it’s your turn to clean up horse manure.” He grins, winking.
I giggle, throwing my head back before taking Dolly’s reins and leading her into the stable, ready to clean her up. I grab the brush and start grooming her down, but my attention focuses on Dean. From the corner of my eye, I watch his muscles flex in his grey T-shirt as he brushes down Hunter. I can’t help the heat that creeps up my neck at how strikingly handsome he is.
Before he can catch me staring, I turn away, concentrating on Dolly and not Dean. But not before promising myself that I won’t look again.
I’m not even five minutes in before my head turns, my eyes catching Dean’s as he knowingly glances back at me, his eyes hypnotising.
God, I wish I could take it all back. I wish I never ran away from my problems sixteen years ago.
Chapter 7
After spending two hours without Dean, I’m beginning to feel antsy. He dropped me off after promising to be back later to take me shopping, but I feel like climbing the walls, and I’ve still got an hour until he said he’d arrive.
Pacing the floor, a silent gasp leaves my mouth as a loud continuous pounding rattles the front door. Frozen with fear, I do the only thing I can manage―I run to the guest bathroom off from the living area, closing the door behind me and locking it. Someone continues to bang on the door, seeming frustrated with each knock, and a whimper escapes my mouth. I slide down the door, my legs feeling like jelly.
It’s him!
When I hear a familiar voice, a tear slips free, and I wipe it away, angry with myself. Dean told me earlier I shouldn’t have to live in fear or keep looking over my shoulder, and he’s right. No matter how safe I feel here, someone only has to knock on the door, and I’m hiding away in a bathroom, shaking like a leaf.
Feeling stupid and rather embarrassed, I stand on shaky legs, opening the bathroom door. I hear Mark talking, disagreeing with someone I can’t hear. When he tells the other person I’m not answering and that he’s on his way, I rush over to the door, flinging it open and startling him.
“Hey.” I wave, feeling lame.
“Oh wait, she’s here. I’ll be there in two,” he says to whoever is on the other side of the phone before flipping it shut.
“Sorry, Mark. I was in the bathroom and didn’t hear you,” I lie, wincing and willing my stupid hands to stop shaking.
“It’s okay, doll. Are you okay? You look really pale.” He takes a step closer, his arms up like he’s ready to catch me if I faint and I force a smile.
“I’m fine. I’m just a little tired. What can I do for you?” I ask him, trying to change the subject, hoping he doesn’t push or demand I get some sleep. That is the last thing I need right now.
“Dean called me to come pick you up. He said he’s taking you shopping, and since I was already nearby he told me to come get you.”
“Okay.” I smile and I am about to turn back inside the cabin when he stops me, his warm hand reaching out for mine. I try hard not to flinch, I really do, but my body still protests. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he slowly removes his hand and looks up at me.
“Lily and I have a dinner reservation tonight, but we were hoping we would see you later at the movie?” he asks, looking hopeful.
I give him a small smile. “Can I let you know how I feel later?”
“Of course you can.” He smiles lovingly, reminding me of Dean at that moment. “Are you ready?” he asks, looking at my hands.
I shake my head. “Let me just get my purse.”
Running back into the cabin, I grab my bag from the floor, along with my keys from the hook near the door.
“C’mon then, let’s get you to Dean before he sends out a search party,” he says, grinning. He places one hand at the bottom of my back, guiding me to the front seat of his car before shutting the door behind me.
I smile, glad to finally spend a little more time with him, but more excited about hanging out with Dean.
*** *** ***
As promised, Dean takes me food shopping. Both of us chatter mindlessly, arguing over which radio station to listen to when he pulls into the car park.
“Heart is so much better,” I mutter, needing the last word. As we get out, Dean grabs the stash of ‘bags for life’ bags his mom lumped him with out of the boot. He mutters something under his breath, grinning, so I shove him with my shoulder playfully.
“So, where to first?” he asks, handing me the shopping list Lily wrote while he gets a trolley.
I scan through the list, noting we pretty much need the same items. That is until I come across tampons, with ‘Don’t forget my size, honey’ in brackets next to it.
Choking on a laugh, I try to smother it with a cough. My eyes are already watering from trying to hold it in.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asks, and I cough again, looking away to hide my wide smile.
“Got a tickly throat,” I lie, my voice sounding off since I’m dying to laugh.
“Ah, sucks when you have one of those,” he tells me, having no idea what’s really wrong with me. “What aisle next?”
“Toiletries and beauty,” I choke out, walking past several aisles until we get there.
I try to keep a straight face, and it quickly becomes one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Lily has clearly done this for her own amusement because there is no way she could still have her menstrual cycle, not at her age. Plus, I know from when I started my own period that Lily uses sanitary pads, not tampons.
She and Mom were the ones who gave me ‘the talk’ since I started earlier than most girls. At the ripe old age of eleven, Mom sat me down and gave me all the pros and cons of using tampons. Lily did the same about sanitary pads, since that’s what they both knew and used. It was all kinds of awkward and mortifying, that’s for sure.
Shaking the memory away, I hand Dean the list back, pretending to look through the shelves. Really I’m watching him from the corner of my eye, waiting for the exact moment he realises what he needs to get. I can’t wait to see if he freaks out.
But to my surprise, he just stands there looking at the variety of tampons in concentration. He seems confused as he reads the note she left on the list before checking back over the different brands and sizes.
“What size do I get Mom, Lo?”
He looks so embarrassed that it takes everything in me not to burst out laughing. It’s becoming painful to hold back and before I can answer, I have to take a deep breath, swallowing down the laughter.
“I’m not sure,” I tell him, trying to appear as confused as he seems to be. Then I see an older lady just down the aisle, standing next to the deodorants, and an idea forms. “How about you ask that lady? They seem to be the same size and age.”
He turns to the woman in question, eyeing her up and down. He nods in agreement, and I bite my lip. I have to look away, pretending to have another coughing fit. He doesn’t seem suspicious of my behaviour; if anything, he’s concentrating more on whether or not he should approach the woman. Bless him, he looks redder and more torn up than ever as he glances between the note and boxes.
“Will you go and ask her for me, please? It’s women shit, and I haven’t got any business asking her about this,” he says, pleading now.
I shake my head viciously, all the laughter dying from my mouth. Here I am, laughing at the poor man when it’s the one thing I’ve never liked to buy myself.
After my first period, my mom kept supplies for me in my bathroom. But when she passed away, she was no longer there to help me through that period of my life―excuse the pun.
It happened when I was at school, and because I didn’t have any girlfriends, I had no one to turn to. I was too embarrassed to go to the teachers and ask them for help.
I tried everything to make sure I didn’t bleed through, but I did. I ended up leaving school a little early, so I could get to the shop. I emptied my money tin to get supplies, but by the time I got to the shop, most of the school was already in there, spending what they had left over from lunch.
I had to buy them because there was no way I couldn’t. I tried to wait, even tried to dodge other kids, but when I saw one of the boys who had always picked on me at school, I hid the packet of sanitary pads in my school blazer to hide them from him. The security guard stopped me, thinking I was stealing. He made a huge production of getting me to empty my pockets. By that time, a bunch of kids were gaping and laughing, holding their phones up to record my shame.
I’m still unsure who was more embarrassed, me or the security guard, because once he saw what I had and why I hid them, he had turned bright red. I didn’t end up getting them either, I just ran out of the shop as soon as I explained and he let me go.
After that, Grandma made sure to supply me with everything a girl would need for those seven days a month, and I was grateful.
Now, looking at Dean, I actually start to feel a little guilty, but if he couldn’t handle it, his mom wouldn’t have done it.
“I can’t, Dean. I’m not good with strangers,” I tell him, which is the truth.
The puppy-dog look he gives me almost makes me give in and tell him that it’s all a joke. But then he turns to the woman and I know I have to watch this play out, a small smile tugging at my lips when indecision crosses his face.
He takes in a deep breath whilst rolling his shoulders. Once he seems to be ready, he takes a step towards the woman with a determined expression.
I can’t help but watch with amusement, moving closer to the shelves, so it doesn’t look obvious.
As he approaches the woman, she turns, as if noticing his large presence for the first time. She seems a little confused, clear wonder in her eyes.
Cougar!
Dean greets her with a wide smile on his face. I can’t hear exactly what they’re saying, but I do hear the word, ‘size’ and ‘tampon’. I giggle behind my hand.
Dean’s face is redder than a tomato. In a blink of an eye, the woman’s confusion turns into anger. She curses before slapping Dean with her handbag, hitting him straight in the face.
I do nothing but stand there and watch in complete horror, even as he tries to explain to her that his mom sent him and he just needed some help. She’s not listening; I can tell by the way her face gets redder every time he opens his mouth. I’m mortified on his behalf, but I can’t control the laughter bubbling inside me. I know I should probably go over there and intervene before she kills him, but my goodness, I’ve not had this much fun in a long time.
Her voice rises as she shouts at him, gaining the attention of other shoppers and the shop floor assistants.
“Get some manners, young man,” she hisses, her voice so loud it comes out more as a screech, making my ears bleed. “You people today are rude, all of you. Diabolically rude. Would you like it if I asked you what size your private area was?” A few people burst out laughing as do I, when she reveals this trivial bit of information. At least I don’t have to smother my laughter any longer.
The verbal abuse goes on for a while and becomes funnier the madder she gets at him. I’m howling with laughter when she asks if he wants an ultra-absorbency shoved up his rear end. Dean stands there like a statue, his eyes wide in fear. He hasn’t tried to console her again, not since she smacked him with her bag, and I don’t blame him. She’s actually quite violent.
As he walks back over to me, his steps are slow and unsure. He’s holding a box of ultra-absorbency tampons, his face pale, and I burst out laughing all over again, doubling over in the middle of the store with tears streaming down my face. It’s so bad I have to place my hands on my knees to keep myself from tipping over and going Tickle Me Elmo on the shop floor.
Dean finally reaches me with a deadpan look, his eyebrows raised, not looking at all impressed with me. It just fuels my laughter, and I soon find it hard to catch my breath once again.
“What’s funny, Miss Lola? Is the fact I just got attacked by Queen B over there funny to you?” he asks, trying to sound mad but failing.
My laughter subsides, although I’m still finding it hard to concentrate on anything else since all I want to do is laugh. My side is killing me because of it, but I ignore the pain.
“Mr Salvatore, how old is your mom?” I ask him through a chuckle as I stand up straight.
“Fifty-six. Why?” he asks, his eyes scrunched together. I realise then that he still hasn’t caught on. I grin at him knowingly. This is going to be so much fun.
“Dean? A woman your mom's age doesn’t get periods.”
My confession has him looking at me with a dire expression, and another burst of laughter escapes me. His face is priceless, worth more than seeing someone knock Kanye West down a peg or two. Once everything begins to click into place, I wish I had a phone to record him. This is definitely a Kodak moment.
“She played me again?” he asks, like this has happened before, which doesn’t surprise me. She was the kind of mom to play pranks on all of us when we were little, complaining about how she needed to keep herself cool.
I nod at Dean, chuckling. He sobers, and I know what’s just clicked for him. “Oh my God. You… you knew, didn’t you? Of course you did. I bet you two were in on this together.”
He starts to ramble as we move quickly out of the beauty aisle, passing the fuming woman who is still ranting to a staff member.
“I didn’t know until I read the note.” I giggle.
“And you didn’t tell me?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
“N
ope,” I say, letting the ‘p’ pop from my lips.
“I’m so getting you both back for this,” he promises.
I’m too late to mask my fallen expression because Dean grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
With that look, I stomp―yes, stomp―my feet and push away from him, taking the trolley with me. On the way round the store, I tease Dean continuously about what happened, laughing when someone would point over to him and begin to whisper.
Who knew word would have gotten around so quickly.
*** *** ***
Dean and I ended up going to the movie night together later that evening. Dean wanted to go to support his sister, who I still haven’t had a chance to see. I went along because I honestly didn’t want to go back to the empty cabin, where I knew I’d only toss and turn from nightmares.
We spent an hour speaking to Lily and Mark, all of us getting to know each other again. I found myself having more fun, realising that my time here so far has been good for me.
I honestly believed the horse riding was the best part of the day, but the minute Dean settled us down on a picnic blanket, away from the large crowd, I knew then and there that would be the best night of my life. In fact, not only was it the best night, but it was also the best moment of my life too.
He had gently tucked me against his hard chest, covering us both with a fleece blanket. It was all incredibly sweet, especially since we were sitting under the bright twinkly stars. All of it felt intimate, giving off a romantic atmosphere to the night, and I couldn’t help but feel blissfully happy.
The last thing I remember is leaning back, watching Grease up on the screen before falling into a deep, peaceful sleep.
I just wish I could have stayed awake long enough to savour what it was like to be in his arms.
Chapter 8
“Please, Rick. No!” I plead, screaming in pain as he drags me from the bed roughly.
If I Could I'd Wish It All Away (I Wish Book 1) Page 8