by L. J. Stock
“Tonight.”
“A date or sex?” I said, chuckling. I would have been happy with either choice but his answer surprised me.
“Both. I’ll even pick you up.”
I smiled and kissed him, my body pressing against his so he ended up on his back.
“I’ll meet you,” I said, and rolled from the bed as naked as the day I was born. “Same place, same time?”
Garrett didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he clasped his hands behind his head and watched me as I stepped into a patch of moonlight, his hum of appreciation not missed by me as I hunted for my underwear.
“I want to take you on a real date,” he finally responded, turning to lay on his side, his hand propping up his head. “Which means picking you up, opening doors for you, feeding you, dancing, and more exquisite sex, and a sleepover.”
“Exquisite?”
He smiled again and held out a hand to me as I pulled my thong over my hips. I indulged us both by taking it, allowing myself to be tugged close and arranged on his chest as he linked his arms behind my ass, holding me in place.
“Are you telling me you didn’t enjoy that?” he asked, grabbing a handful of one butt cheek.
“That’s not what you said,” I corrected, tugging on his beard and tracing his bottom lip with my thumb. “I really enjoyed that. Twice.”
“But not exquisite?”
“Not quite.” I squirmed, suddenly feeling ridiculous that I was making a thing out of this. The sex had been amazing, better than most because there had been a strong attraction between us, but it hadn’t been perfect. I’d had perfection before, and that came with a deeper connection, a soul talking to a soul, hearts beating as one and lives intertwined. Nothing could touch that kind of connection. It’s how I felt, but the fact that he was now waiting for an explanation made my cheeks heat. “Gives you a goal to reach.”
He studied my face in the dim light and nodded. “Challenge accepted.”
Rolling us, he hovered over me yet again, his forearms holding his weight from my body. The way he continuously studied me made me restless. It made me wonder what he was seeing. Could he see the quiet pleading? The neediness? The desire? Or was it the fear he saw? Because I was scared shitless of letting him get close.
“Stay,” he whispered again.
“I can’t, not tonight. I have appointments in the morning.” That wasn’t a lie. I had a breakfast date with my daughter. He just didn’t need to know the specifics. I never told the men I slept with about Holly because they were never around long enough, and she didn’t need to deal with that in her life. I was protecting her from the slow revolving door that came with my needs, and although I liked Garrett, I would be leaving eventually. I had a life in Colorado, and all this was temporary. This was for fun.
“Tonight then.”
“Tonight,” I agreed.
It took me another twenty minutes to get out of Garrett’s bed, and another ten minutes to get out of his house and into his truck. By the time I got back to Megan’s place and curled up in my own bed, the clock told me it was after four thirty in the morning.
Holly came and bounced on me at eight.
“How was the date, Mom? Tell me everything,” she said, hopping onto my bed and fighting me for control of the covers as I pulled them over my head. I was tired and sore. I had aches in some very interesting places that I wouldn’t be explaining anytime soon.
“It was fun, baby. He taught me how to two-step,” I said with a yawn, my palm pushing against her face as she peered over the blankets at me.
“You? Dancing?” She giggled, squealing when I tickled her side.
“Yes. Me. Dancing. A two-step, specifically. Cheeky brat.”
“Can you teach me?” she asked, settling in, cross-legged as I threw the comforter back. “Katie says that they dance like that at school dances here.”
I looked over at her and tipped my head to the side in question. “Why would you need to learn, baby? You don’t go to school here.”
Holly looked down at her hands and sighed softly. I knew what that meant. The gesture was one of those traits she’d inherited from Dustin. She always put things in the right order in her head before she spoke. She was careful with the people she loved and wanted to make sure that her meaning wasn’t misinterpreted. So I waited, my fingers fiddling with her friendship bracelets until she was ready to talk to me.
Instead of answering my question, though, she lifted her head and met my gaze. Her eyes filled with a silent apology. Her train of thought had taken a new direction.
“What is it, kiddo?”
“Can we still go and see my dad? While we’re here, I mean?”
She held her breath the moment the words were out, her teeth impaling her bottom lip as she studied my face. If I’d had to guess, she’d approached Megan about this before she’d come to me again. Holly was smart, thoughtful, and selfless. She would have been worried about my reaction if she’d thought I’d been avoiding it, and I knew in my gut Megan had given her the answer I’d have wanted her to. Ask your mom. That she was here asking was proof enough, and who was I to deny her? I’d had Dustin for one short but beautiful, happy year, but she’d never had him at all, only my memories of him. As hard as it was, I tried to encourage her to ask questions. The very least I could do was bridge that gap for her now we were here.
“I think that would be good,” I replied, opening my arms and smiling as she fell into my embrace. The weight of her against me always eased the anxiety that threatened to take over some days. I loved her more than I’d loved anything in my life. “Why don’t we get dressed, go for breakfast, then pick up something for him?”
“Like what?” she asked, her voice thick against my shoulder.
“Something that will let him know we’re thinking about him.”
“We don’t need to pick anything up. I have something.”
We didn’t spend much longer cuddled up together on my bed, and that saddened me. I missed those days when she was little and wanted to spend hours snuggling and asking questions about life. Holly, however, seemed motivated to visit Dustin, and if she could have pushed me into the shower, I think she would have. She tried to talk me out of taking one, but after the night spent with another man, I couldn’t go without washing first, though that was something I couldn’t and wouldn’t even try to explain to my fourteen-year-old daughter. We met at the car. She’d run into Megan’s house to pick something up, while I’d started the car to get some heat going, leaving me sitting staring out at the landscape unsure how to feel about anything anymore.
I’d fallen asleep in the early hours of that morning with a lightness inside of me. Years of weight had temporarily been elevated, and the brief respite from the memories that constantly assaulted me had been a godsend. I’d stuck to the places I hadn’t had memories with Dustin since I’d arrived, the only exception being the grove of trees where he’d surrounded me in a welcome embrace. The cemetery wasn’t somewhere we’d spent any time together, but that had been the last goodbye between us, and that was what I was dreading the most. I wanted to be strong for Holly. I wanted this to be what she needed in order to fulfill her wish of knowing her father in a capacity other than my words.
Breakfast was a brief affair, fast food taking the place of somewhere we could sit down. Holly didn’t say much while I drove, but I made sure to point out important places where I’d spent time with Dustin. When I drove past the school on the way to the cemetery, I pulled into the parking lot and stared at the small shack that looked broken atop the gym.
“See that,” I said, pointing up at it.
“What?”
“On top of the gym,” I said, pulling her closer to me and pointing to the–now leaning–wooden shack with renewed enthusiasm.
“The pile of wood on the roof?”
“Yeah. It used to be a small shed. They called it Coach’s Retreat, but he stopped using the place when he quit smoking. He gave the key to your dad so he c
ould study up there, or get away from his girlfriend at the time. We spent a lot of time there together.”
“Why?”
“It was the only place in town I could get my radio station, and he knew how much that meant to me. So, we’d sneak up and lay on the cot, talking about music and the future. He made me laugh so much. Your daddy was like you: smart, kind, and incredibly thoughtful.”
“Funny, too?”
“Always funny. His favorite thing to do was make me laugh.”
“Because you have a pretty laugh.”
“Thanks, baby.” I gave her a wink and pulled away then out from the school lot. I didn’t hurry. I couldn’t. As much as I wanted to give Holly the only thing she’d ever really asked for, there was a part of me that wanted to get as far as humanly possible away from Dustin’s grave. My heart hated the thought of him being there. The void of nothing was too much of a contrast to the vivacious man I’d always known.
I couldn’t stall forever, though, and all too soon we were passing through the gates, and I was pulling to a stop with a shuddering breath. I stared at the spot where I knew he lay and reached for the door handle.
“Mom?”
I turned back to her. “Yeah?”
“Take a minute.”
Another thing she’d inherited from Dustin… an intuition I would never understand. I could have kissed her for thinking about me, but this visit wasn’t about my feelings or me. We were here for her and Dustin. I wasn’t going to take that away from them. He deserved to see her as much as she deserved to see him.
“I’m okay.”
I pushed the door out of the way and hopped out with as much energy as I could muster. I met Holly at the front of the car and gripped her hand as she threw her backpack over her shoulder, and we started up the path. Neither of us said a word as we walked. I couldn’t bring myself to break that silence as his name came into focus on the headstone. The cold marker wasn’t how it had been the last time I saw it, but I hadn’t expected it to be. The engraving of Dustin’s name, dates of death and birth, and his football jersey number were all clean, but the space around it was filled with notes in permanent marker and roughly scratched words. This wasn’t graffiti. It was a tribute from friends and teammates leaving messages of love to a friend whose life had been taken too soon.
I stayed back, my eyes moving over scribbled words, a smile creeping over my lips as a wind tore over the small mound of the hill and wrapped around me in greeting. I let myself believe it was Dustin because it was the only thing that kept me standing there instead of breaking down in tears.
I trained my eyes on our daughter as she knelt in front of his headstone. The wind teased her hair as she reached out and traced Dustin’s name with her fingers. I knew she was crying by the hunch in her shoulders and the tremor of her long hair. I felt the heartbreak in my heart as much as I felt Dustin there with us. I knew better than to go to her. If she’d needed me, she would ask or hold out a hand for me to take, so I stayed where I was, my heart bleeding as she pulled her backpack into her lap and opened the zipper.
“Hi, Daddy,” she whispered, undeterred by my presence. “I know it hurts Mommy to be here, but I wanted to come see you. Mom said people bring you things to let you know they’re thinking of you, so I brought Starlite.”
Holly pulled out the first toy I’d ever bought her. It was Rainbow Brite’s horse, the same one my mom had bought me when I was a kid. She loved that thing with all of her heart, and when she’d grown too big to carry the plush horse around, it had taken pride of place on her bed. She’d brought him with her like she did when we went camping in the mountains, and now she was giving her prized possession up to Dustin. This was a piece of her she was leaving behind, and I could feel the significance of that because I knew what it cost her to give that memento of her childhood up.
I was sure I wasn’t going to make this visit through without crying, but that particular hurdle was one I hadn’t been prepared for. The gesture sent me on a mental trip and brought me to my knees behind Holly, my hand resting on her shoulder in silent support.
“He will remind you of me when we go home,” she continued, setting Starlite against the headstone and tugging on the longer strands of grass to clear the spot. “I don’t need him anymore, and I always have Mom’s stories to remember you by. She misses you a lot, but she always talks about you and tells me about the things we have in common. I have your eyes and your kindness. I feel like I know you most of the time, but I wish every day that I could have met you… just once.” Holly’s voice grew thick with her denied sobs, and she leaned back against me for comfort.
I couldn’t help myself from kissing the top of her head. She wasn’t the only one who wished for that. I’d spent years wishing the same thing over and over again to no avail. Every milestone in our daughter’s life had been marked with the very same wish. I just had no power to change the past. I never had. The only part of her father I had left to offer was his brother and father—her uncle and her paternal grandfather. Neither one of them even knew she existed, though, and maybe now was the time to fix that.
Maybe.
I let myself think about the fallout while Holly talked. She told him about everything she loved in her life, how she wanted a dog and maybe a horse one day. She told him about school, the girl that didn’t like her, and the boy who did. He was told her favorite color, things to eat, and the songs and movies she loved. This was a gift for me to listen, too. I didn’t feel like I’d failed completely as a mother. Holly was content, happy, and wonderful. She was a blessing in my life, and maybe she’d win the two surviving members of the Hill family over. She’d charmed everyone else who ever met her.
I sat there for almost two hours, listening, then sat there alone when she went to gather a bouquet of wildflowers for his grave. She didn’t like that he was the only one without flowers, and I loved her for her thoughtfulness. Running my fingers over Starlite’s rainbow tail and mane as I waited, the conversation for Dustin was being spoken in my mind. He’d heard all of this before, but that didn’t stop me from repeating the conversation while his name etched itself into my eyes.
Fourteen years. Fourteen long years without him, and I still dreamed of the way he loved me. How he held me in his arms and looked at me like I was the only person that meant anything. I wasn’t sure I’d ever find that again. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.
Chapter Thirty-One
Two nights in a row?” Megan asked. She was lounging on her bed, picking through a box of her kids’ candy while I raided her closet for something to wear on my date with Garrett. I’d already pulled out a large chunk of what she owned, much to her amusement.
“Am I being stupid?” I asked, picking out a gorgeous pencil skirt and red blouse combination and holding it up to me before turning around for Megan’s opinion.
“That depends.” She tipped her head to the side and studied my ensemble before giving me the thumbs up.
“On what?”
“Is he any good in bed?”
I bit my bottom lip and gazed at my best friend in the mirror. Words were not needed for that response, and her reaction said she’d got the message loud and clear. She threw herself back against her dozen throw pillows and dropped more hard-shelled candy bites into her mouth with a sigh.
“Wear the skirt. You’re not being stupid, and I‘m so damn jealous, I could spit.”
“You have Robert! I’m jealous of you. Dating is awful, Megan.”
“You don’t seem to be suffering.”
“Then you’re not looking properly,” I said, lowering my hands in defeat. “What I wouldn’t give to have been married for thirteen years—broke as fuck, yet happy.”
“I’m sorry.”
I brought the hangers together and waved her off. “Don’t be silly. I’m just being dramatic after today. Maybe I should stay in with Holly? After being with Dustin, she’s going to need me. She’s probably feeling down and needs a girls’ night. I’m being se
lfish going out with Garrett tonight.”
“Your daughter is fine. In fact, she’s more relaxed than I’ve seen her since y’all got here. You gave her the one thing she wanted, and now it’s one less thing for her to worry about. I think she was more worried about you. Wear the damn skirt.”
“You’re a bad influence.”
“Someone has to be. You’re living the life of a saint.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Oh, I would,” she said, putting the candy aside and rolling from the bed. She opened a drawer on her tall boy and pulled out a fire-engine-red lace bra and pinged it across the room at me with a grin. “You break it, you buy me a new one.”
“Really?” I held the bra up. The limited material would barely cover a thing, but it would give the girls a boost, and from the grin Megan was giving me, that was the whole point. “Okay, I’m going to trust you.”
“You’re welcome in advance.”
I rolled my eyes and headed to her bathroom to change. As this was Robert’s bedroom as well, it was a safer bet than changing in the room. When I headed back to Megan, I was walking with smaller steps because of the material that hugged every curve I owned. Megan whistled her approval and opened her bedroom door.
“Robert,” she shouted, and then repeated his name louder when he failed to respond fast enough. “Come here.”
I could hear the grumble from down the hall. We’d done this to him so much in the past that he knew what was coming. We wanted a man’s opinion, and he was the man of the house. He normally took a moment to formulate the right answer when he eyed the two of us, but tonight he walked in, and his eyes widened as they caught me pinning my hair up in a messy bun in front of their long mirror.
“Damn. Whoever he is, he’s screwed.” The sentiment was said with appreciation and humor, and he could get away with that when it came to me. As long as he’d been with Megan, he’d pretty much been my friend, too. He’d had to be.
“Good answer,” Megan replied and held her arms out to the sides, twirling in her pajamas. “And me?”