The Beautiful Now

by M. Leighton

  He stares at me for the longest time. And I stare right back. It’s almost like we’re both trying to reconcile the people we were with the people we’ve become.

  Finally, he folds his long body into the driver’s seat and, seconds later, pulls away. I watch until I can no longer see his vehicle. When it’s out of sight, I crumble to the floor and sob.

  The Dane James I knew and loved is gone. And so are all the irrational hopes I had. All the one-days and somedays and what-ifs I’ve nurtured for a decade and a half are gone.

  Dead and gone.

  Chapter 23

  I’m sitting on the front porch again when Momma pulls up. I feel like I’m in a state of suspended animation. I do what must be done, but a large part of me is just numb. I think it’s that part that’s here hoping to get another glimpse of Dane James walking the fields. Seeing him yesterday feels like a bad dream and I desperately want a do-over, one that will go much better, one where Dane James won’t hate me, because I have news that I’ll eventually have to share with him, and it would be much better if he didn’t hate me going into it. There’s almost no doubt in my mind now that he will hate me coming out of it. Finding out I’ve hidden his daughter from him for fourteen years won’t endear me to him. That’s why I’ll put that conversation off for as long as I can. I know there will be no hiding from it forever, though. I just can’t bear to think of it right now.

  I focus on Momma’s white Cadillac and how it shines like a pearl in the sun. When she gets out, I realize how perfectly it suits her. Her hair is only a few shades darker, and she’s dressed in a deep cream pantsuit with an apricot shell underneath. She looks as classy as she does beautiful. She fits into this life. It’s all she ever wanted, and her contentment shows. From the regal tilt of her head to the perfectly manicured toes poking out from her five hundred dollar shoes, she’s part of the elite crowd in Shepherd’s Mill. Now she doesn’t need Alton to keep her up. She has a rightful claim to the throne, and she’s damn well taking it.

  Gracefully, she mounts the front steps. Rather than nodding and bypassing me to go straight inside, which is what I figured she’d do, my mother sits primly in the rocking chair beside me, crosses her legs, and exhales like she’s exhausted.

  “Where’s Celina?”

  “Doing her English.”

  Momma gives me the side-eye. “What about your work? Are you finished for the day?”

  “No. Just taking a break.” I turn to give her my full attention. “How was your…whatever you were doing?”

  “It was fine. I was at a Women’s League meeting.”

  I nod, but say nothing else. I have no idea what that is, and I don’t particularly care. My mind is filled with a million other things. There’s no room for the details from her social calendar.

  My eyes scan the vast fields, watching closely for that familiar figure I do and don’t want to see.

  “You never said what happened after Mr. James passed. Did Alton get a new foreman?”

  Momma doesn’t answer right away. When she does, her voice sounds a bit hurt. “You kept up with those people and not with your own mother?”

  “No. I didn’t ‘keep up’ with anybody. I used to get a copy of the paper occasionally, that’s all. One of them happened to contain his obituary. That’s how I knew Alton died, too.”

  “Oh.” Is that relief I hear? “Why do you ask?”

  I narrow my eyes on her. “Momma, why are you hedging?”

  “I’m not hedging. You’re being sneaky. Why don’t you just come out and ask what you want to know?”

  “Fine. Why didn’t you tell me that Dane bought this place?”

  “Because he didn’t just buy this place.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She shakes her head in agitation. “Never mind. You needn’t concern yourself with those things. This house is still mine and Alton left me in a good position. That’s all that matters.”

  “Why are you being so weird about this?”

  “I’m not being weird. You’re being weird. You always were completely irrational when it came to that boy. Don’t you think enough damage has been done? Can’t you just move on? If nothing else, for Celina’s sake. She has a chance at a good life here. Don’t ruin that for her.”

  It’s my turn to shake my head. “Wait, what? What the hell are you talking about? How am I going to ruin anything for my daughter? She’s my one and only concern.”

  “You don’t need to go getting involved with him again. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Oh, believe me, that won’t be a problem.” I can’t hide my bitter disappointment.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “I ran into Mr. Dane James today. Down at the barn.”

  “What were you doing—”

  I wave her off and keep talking. “There is clearly no love lost for me there. I might even go so far as to say he hates me.”

  Momma sniffs and glances away. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

  “How can you be so callous? I loved him, Momma. He’s Celina’s father. Can’t you see how much this hurts?”

  “You’ll get over it. Life is full of hurts and disappointments. Just wait until Celina gets older. You’ll really find out what hurt is then.”

  Stung, I clamp my mouth shut and lean back in my chair, turning my face away from my mother. She sits for a few more seconds before she gets up and walks inside.

  I’m glad to see her go.

  I stand up from the dinner table to clear the dishes. Celina follows suit. “Go do something fun, babe. I’ve got these.”

  She looks up at me with her big emerald eyes. “I don’t mind helping.”

  I smile. “I know you don’t, but this is my thing. You go do your thing.”

  Her eyes look tired and she’s out of breath just helping bring the dishes to the kitchen. She needs to rest.

  “What’s my thing?”

  “How am I supposed to know?”

  She shrugs and tips her chin down. “You probably know what normal fourteen year olds do better than me.”

  Hearing that is like a fist to the gut. I walk around the table and take her by the shoulders. “This won’t last forever. You may not be getting to do fourteen like everyone else, but if I have anything to do with it, you’ll be doing fifteen better than everyone else. You’ll be gossiping with your friends and kissing boys, and going to parties I tell you not to go to. You’ll be belligerent and I’ll be strict. You’ll get grounded and I’ll let you off the hook because I’m a big softie. I’ve got this all planned out, you see. Just a little while longer and you’re home free.”

  “How do you know any of this, Momma?”

  She sounds so dejected, so hopeless. I’d rather take a beating than to see my little girl this way.

  “Because I’m taking you to that new doctor next week and they’re going to give us the best next step, and we’ll take it, and it’s going to work, and you’ll be good as new by next summer. Maybe even by Christmas.”

  “You really think they can cure me?”

  “It’s looking really good.” I inject as much hope and optimism into my voice as I possibly can. If I were being honest, I’d have to tell her that I have no idea what will happen. I’d have to tell her that I’m as worried and desperate as she is. I’d have to tell her that I cry myself to sleep most nights, worrying that there will be no way out of this for her.

  But I’m not honest. She doesn’t need the weight of my honesty. She needs me to be her mother. To protect her and to tell her it’ll be all right, right up until the moment that, God forbid, we know for sure that it won’t be.

  Until then, this is my story and I’m sticking to it.

  She takes a deep breath and musters a smile, her strength shining through as much as her beauty. “Okay, then I’m going up to my room to watch a movie with Drea.”

  Drea is Celina’s best friend from Maryland. They were both typically dramatic when they found out we were moving.
There were tears and threats and long, painful goodbyes, but they’ve kept in touch. Just like I told them they would.

  Girls, I think with an internal shake of my head. Was I ever this dramatic?

  Celina starts off, but I stop her before she can get out of the dining room.

  “What movie?” She’s fourteen and I’m still her mother. I have to ask.

  “Mo-om.” There’s that two-syllable noun again.

  “Celinaaaaa.” I make hers at least four. “Nothing rated R.”

  Her lips thin and I can tell she wants to stomp her foot. “You were just telling me to do my thing, and how I’ll be doing stuff I’m not supposed to.”

  “Yes. One day in the future, not tonight.”

  She rolls her eyes and throws up her hands. “Fine. We’ll watch something we’ve watched before.”

  That doesn’t really help me, but I’m not going to drill her too much about it. I really do want her to do something fun tonight.

  “Love you,” I tell her as she starts to walk off.

  “Love you,” she replies, albeit grudgingly.

  I hear the doorbell just as she’s turning the corner for the stairs, and I see my daughter detour toward it. Before I can stop her, she opens the door.

  “Can I help you?”

  There is silence. A thick, thick silence, one that brings me out from behind the table, arms loaded with dishes, to peek around the corner.

  There, standing in the foyer, staring at my daughter like she’s grown a second head, is Dane James.

  I step out and nudge Celina with my hip. She turns to look at me and I nod toward the stairs. “Go on. I’ve got this.”

  She shrugs and walks slowly, achingly slowly, up the steps to her room, leaving me alone with the new Dane James and all the questions he probably has.

  I watch him watch her go. His autumn eyes follow her until she disappears, and they stay on that spot for a long time after. His jaw is tense and hard, and I can’t be sure if he’s putting things together or if he’s just hating me a little more. I lean toward the latter simply because Celina doesn’t look her age. Most people who see her think she’s at least a year or two younger than fourteen. If that’s the case with Dane, he would know she couldn’t be his. Even though she very much is.

  “Yours?” he asks, tipping his head toward the stairs.

  I straighten my spine, preparing for whatever comes next. “Yes, she’s mine.”

  He nods and an odd expression steals across his face. Is it sadness? Bitterness? Or just my imagination. “She looks just like you.”

  I lick my suddenly dry lips. “Thank you.”

  He nods again and clears his throat. “I have something for your mother. Is she around?”

  “Sure. Come in.”

  Dane steps inside, filling the entryway with his presence, making the large area seem small. He always made me feel like that when he was around—like I was this tiny receptacle just waiting for him to come along and fill me up. And he did. Every time we were together, he made me feel as full and whole as I ever have.

  He pushes the door shut and I smile before turning toward the kitchen and the study beyond. I poke my head around the corner. “Momma, Dane is here to see you.”

  Her brow pleats and she rises to her feet. In her finery, standing behind Alton’s impressive desk, she looks like the lady of the manor. I have to smile. Some people were born for this life. She’s one of them.

  “Send him in.”

  I resist the urge to make a noise reserved for most teenagers. Rather, I nod and head back out to the foyer, arms still full of dishes, to tell Dane to follow me.

  As I lead him through the house to the study, I’m keenly aware of his eyes on me. I’d give anything to know what’s going through his mind, but I know that won’t be happening.

  I leave him with Momma and go back to my task, clearing and cleaning. Much to my happy surprise, my trembling hands don’t drop and break one single dish.

  It’s no wonder I can’t sleep. I couldn’t stand being downstairs, so I came to bed early. But now, I can’t stand being up here. Everywhere feels claustrophobic. The walls are closing in. They’re mocking me with their memories, heckling me with their silence.

  Dane James hates me.

  And it’s killing me.

  Everything I did, I did for him, so he would be happy and so he wouldn’t hate me. But he ended up hating me anyway. All of that, everything I gave up, and I lost his heart, too.

  I throw off my twisted covers and head for the door. I need some fresh air. I need wide open skies and endless night.

  I make my way downstairs. Out of habit, I dodge the squeaky boards on my descent. I smile at myself when I consider going back up just so I can come down again and step on every one. Let Momma wake up. Let her question where I’m going. Let her try to stop me. With the mood I’m in, I’m liable to bite her head off.

  I wouldn’t even be in this position if it weren’t for her and her husband, Alton the monster. They forced my hand, all for the sake of appearance. They tore me away from Dane, stole his right to watch his child grow up, and they changed the course of my entire existence. All so that neither of them had to be embarrassed by their daughter who was slumming it with the help.

  Bitterness, old and pungent, roils in my belly. I’m mad at them all over again. And at myself for not being stronger, not finding another way. It doesn’t matter that I was young and terrified, that I was pregnant and all alone. I should’ve figured out a way.

  But I didn’t.

  That blame is solely on my head. It’s my price to pay. And one day soon, Dane will come to collect. It’s just a matter of time.

  The balmy air slaps me in the face. It’s soft and warm and scented, and it throws me back in time. I’m twelve again, sneaking out with a strange boy for the first time. I’m fifteen again, seeking comfort from the only person who understands me. I’m seventeen again, willing to give up everything for the love of a boy who works in the fields.

  I start off just walking, but sooner than I realize, I’m running, running through the fields, wisps of wheat slapping my arms and chest and cheeks. And then I see it. Dark and lonely under the moon.

  A rock.

  The rock.

  Our rock.

  Out of breath, I don’t stop until I’m standing at the foot of it. I reach up, my fingers grasping for an edge to hold onto to pull myself up, but I don’t need one because I’m weightless.

  I yip in surprise as I’m hauled effortlessly onto the rock. When I get my bearings, there, waiting for me just like he was when I was but a girl, is Dane James.

  “I…I didn’t see you,” I pant.

  “I was lying down.”

  I’m breathing so hard and he’s standing so close. He didn’t back up when he set me on the rock, and now he’s only a foot away, towering over me.

  “I’m sorry. I can…I can go if you…” I trail off. My brain can’t cope with one more surprise. Not one more.

  When he says nothing, I take that as my cue to leave, so I turn and start to climb down off the rock. Once again, a strong hand grips me. “Don’t.”

  One syllable.

  One word.

  It’s a start. And I exhale.

  Slowly, I pivot to face him. He looks like a beautiful, mysterious god in the night, like he belongs to it, and it to him. He seems taller than I remember, certainly more intimidating, but right now, like this…he isn’t the angry man I’ve seen twice now. He’s simply Dane, The One Who Stayed.

  “You don’t want me to go?”

  He counters with a question of his own. “You afraid to stay and talk?”

  It’s a challenge. Clear in his voice and even clearer in the set of his chin, like he’s daring me. Dane James has a bone to pick, and I think I’m about to get picked clean.

  “N-no.”

  Yes. I’m not ready for this yet. I may never be.

  “Good. Have a seat.”

  I do, but I’m far from comfortabl
e. “So…”

  “So…” We sit, waiting. For what I have no idea. He starts with what must seem to him like small talk. “Your daughter seems sweet.”

  “She’s just entered her teenage years. She has her sweet moments, but…that’s not always the case.”

  Dane nods stiffly. “I figured she was about that age. She looks twelve or thirteen.”

  I almost sigh in relief that he drew the conclusion most others do, the one that would make her too young to be his. I’m okay with him assuming that for the time being.

  We fall silent again until he begins again, this time with a bit more aggression. “You gonna tell me where you’ve been for the last fifteen years?”

  There’s no small amount of anger and disgust in his voice. I have a feeling that he’s going to hate me no matter what I say.

  “I…Well, I don’t even know where to start really.”

  What a cop-out! What happened to my spine?

  “Want me to pick a place? How about the day you left here? That one’s been a big mystery to me for a while, although I heard a few stories about why you left.”

  “You did? Like what?”

  “Well, there was one about a kidnapping. Clearly, that one wasn’t true. Your parents wouldn’t have let that stand. Nobody kidnaps one of the Shepherd’s Mill elite and gets away with it.” Cynicism coats his every word. “Then there was one about a drug overdose. I think that tale was specifically designed for me.” I gasp at that. Many years ago, he’d told me what happened to his mother. What kind of cruel joke was that, that people would tell him I’d done the same thing? “Then there was another one, from Lauren, I think, that was something about you transferring to a prep school and meeting some guy there. Someone your parents approved of. I figured that had the best chance of actually being true. Even common folk like me know how important family approval is. For you people, anyway.”

  I sit, stunned and speechless, as I listen to him talk. For a split second I consider just getting up and running, going back to the house to collect Celina, getting in my car, and driving somewhere else, anywhere else.