CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
I spend more time turning in bed than I do sleeping. The next morning, I wake up feeling like my heart is trying to break through my chest wall and fly away to safety. I pace around my kitchen, cell phone always in my back pocket. I am one of those girls again, desperately waiting for a guy to call.
When my cell vibrates, I start trembling. I sit down in the middle of the floor, forcing my body to be still. I take a deep breath. “Hey.”
“Hey, Lady. You answered.” My heart aches at the sound of his voice.
“Of course,” I respond vaguely, failing at my attempt to be intriguing.
“Did Jen tell you I need help with the Hill House today?”
“Not the details. What’s up?” I sound amazingly collected. I start to relax. I can hide these feelings. Maybe I’m not that bad of a liar after all.
“Mason will let us on the grounds again tonight. I just need your opinion about colors and a few problem spots. I’m kind of kicking myself for not doing the research myself.”
“No problem.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up around five? Does that sound good?”
“That’s perfect.”
“Sweet. See you then, Lady.” The phone clicks and he’s gone. I glance at the bird clock; quarter past three. One hour and forty-five minutes to go before friendship destruction.
My heart thuds against my chest and I feel dizzy. I race to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. My cheeks contrast bright red against my ghostly pale skin. My pupils are more dilated than when I leave the eye doctor.
This is what I look like lovesick; a complete lunatic.
I fill the bathtub. I refuse to look like this when I confess my love. I need some dignity.
I soak in the tub for almost an hour. My veins dilate and my heart rate slows. I am going to approach this as a calm and collected individual. I dry my hair and make some long, loose curls. I know I look a bit overdone but I don’t care. This is my only chance. I’m not about to let my hair ruin it. Not that Justin seems to be the type of guy who cares. But still.
I grab my favorite pair of jeans, the one that Marissa told me makes my butt look fat. I pair it with an ivory lace top over a lilac racerback tank. Now to loosen up the curls; my fingers give a gentle tug. I stand up straight and smile at my reflection. A dewy, movie-star version of me smiles back. I twirl. My reflection gives me a little hope. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll be so struck that he forgets Allison all together.
I wait in my kitchen. I don’t want to see him pull up. I’ll be too tempted to walk out and meet him in the driveway. I need Justin’s instincts to guide him to my door and ring the bell. Anything to jostle his subconscious into putting me outside of his “just friends” category.
My pacing returns as I stare down the minute hand on that stupid bird clock. I’m thankful my family isn’t around. They are in Stillwater where Mom is being honored at a garden expo while Dad and Eric take a train and boat tour. There isn’t any way they’d have missed my nerves or my appearance. Fate has kindly spared me that conversation.
The sound of the Canadian goose honking makes my heart flutter. Five o’clock. I stand still, taking slow, deep breaths. A few seconds later the doorbell rings. Justin, always punctual.
Okay. I can do this.
I picture Allison hanging on Justin’s arm with the homecoming crown perched on her head.
I have to do this.
I throw my shoulders back and walk to the front door. My hand operates separately from my body as I reach and pull it open.
“Hey,” the word sounds unusually calm. That bath really worked.
“Oh.” Justin shakes his head slightly. His eyes quickly look me over. My heart leaps but somehow I remain calm. He notices me. “You ready?”
“Yup,” I step out. I resist running ahead and jumping into the passenger seat. He leads me around the Crossover, pulling the door open for me. “Thanks,” I say as I slide onto the seat. I feel like I’m in the final quarter of the basketball game. It’s now or never. I smile at him and let my eyes linger for a full second. Terrifying.
“Uh, sure,” he mumbles. I fiddle with my bracelet as he walks around the car. The guilt of my manipulation pokes at me. But I have to use what I can to my advantage. Justin climbs into the car. “What’s with the new look?” he asks.
“Oh, I got bored this afternoon. Just playing around.” I shrug. “It’s a girl thing.”
“Well,” he looks me over again. My heart clunks. “It works.” His lips part into a crooked smile. “Some guy will be lucky someday.”
He means it as a compliment but it hits me as a rejection. I don’t want it to be some guy. I want it to be him.
Justin puts the car in reverse and hands me the notebook. The notebook is nearly full with his extra notes. I page through; yellow highlighter details most of my points and his scribbling handwriting decorates the margins. “You really read this, huh?” I make myself laugh casually.
“I take my job very seriously.” His tone is distant, reminding me of his cold approach just a few weeks earlier. I start feeling sick. I open my phone and check my contacts, making sure Trish’s name is still listed. She’ll be picking me up when this is all over.
Justin starts berating me with questions about homemade paint in the 1800’s and the types of milk protein they used. My notes on the topic are sparse so I answer the best I can from memory. He hands me his iPhone to Google when I need it.
Crap. I am his research assistant. I can’t be farther from where I need to be by the end of the night.
The gates to the mansion are open and Justin pulls up under the carriage entrance. Mason meets us outside and pulls the door open for me. “Wow, Lucy. You look beautiful,” he says as he gives me his hand to help me step out of the SUV.
“Thanks.” I act like I am told this all the time. Justin walks around to my side of the Crossover.
“Ready?” Mason asks.
“Yup. Let’s show her the problems.”
Mason opens the front door and I step inside. The beauty of the rich woodwork makes me stall. Mason laughs. “Yeah. She’s always radiant.” He places a hand on my shoulder, leading me forward. “Don’t you agree, Justin?” He winks at me. At least I have one ally tonight.
“Yup. Every time I come here I discover a new woodcarving or little nook in a room. The place is full of surprises.” Justin pushes past us to a small back stairway.
“Slow down, Justin. No need to rush. Or you’ll miss the beauty.” Justin’s pace quickens down the stairs. Mason shrugs at me. “I try.”
“Don’t worry about it. He just really wants to get the job.”
“He’s going to get the job. The historical society wants more funding. They aren’t going to reject the soon-to-be governor’s son.”
“Oh. I never thought of that.”
“Well hopefully Justin hasn’t either. I want him to think he deserves it when they give him the gig.”
“But he does.” I pull out the notebook, showing him the notes and countless drafts of proposals Justin created. “I doubt any other company has spent this much time studying Summit Avenue homes and 19th century painting techniques.”
Mason whistles as he scans our notes. “Well, I’ll be. He really has done his homework. I always knew that kid had class. Listen, please don’t tell him what I said about him getting the job because of his dad.” Mason shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have said that. If he put a different name on this proposal, he’d get the job over his father’s namesake.” He pats me on the shoulder. “You’re right. He deserves it.”
I feel sorry for Justin as I follow Mason down the stairs. It never occurred to me how hard he’d have to work to prove to himself and others that he isn’t just sliding by as his father’s son. What I once took for his ego is actually raw determination to be the best he can be. No wonder he loves that truck— it’s his own thing. Warmth spreads through my belly and I know I just fell more in love with Justin than a
minute before. Crap.
“Did you say something?” Mason looks back over his shoulder at me.
“Yeah, did we see this before?” This stairway is plainer than any other area of the house.
“No. These stairs were for the hired help: cooks, maids, seamstresses, butlers.” Mason cracks his back on the first landing. “But if you ask me, they deserved that grand stairway or,” he laughs, “an elevator.”
“I bet. I’m sure you put a lot of miles in every day around this joint.”
He pulls a small box off his belt loop and hands it to me. “I’ve put in nine today and I still haven’t closed the place up. It’s okay though,” he pats his flat stomach. “I can eat all the brownies I want.”
I laugh as we descend into the basement. I recognize the kitchen that we saw a few weeks ago. The room is dark and cold. Justin waits for us, tapping the wooden island impatiently. My stomach twists into a tight knot. He’s probably planning on meeting Allison later.
“Over here, Lucy.” He waves me to the corner of the kitchen and shows me some faded baseboards. I get down on my knees to examine the work. The trim is a dull red that I haven’t seen before. A few white spots interrupt the flow of the dull color as well as a few faded brush strokes. I lightly touch the paint over the brush strokes. I can still feel the texture.
I push myself away from the baseboard and look up at Justin. “The second volume I studied featured milk-based paint. This stuff here is that original stuff. The red color looks like it was made from brick powder.” I point to the white spots. “Those are water marks. They washed away the pigment.” I stand up and brush off my knees.
Justin smiles at me and my head spins. I sidestep and he grabs my arm; my whole body warms at his touch. I know I’m blushing. “Are you okay?”
I force myself to step away from his touch. It’s actually painful. “I’m fine,” I say. “I think I just stood up too fast. That’s all.”
Mason walks over and bends down to examine the board. “Why is the paint still here?” he asks.
“Chances are whoever did the original painting got distracted and forgot to seal the board,” I offer.
“And more modern painters were too scared to touch it.” Justin shakes his head. “I’m glad they didn’t. Do you think the historical society would be interested in this?” he asks Mason.
Mason is still crouched down on the ground, touching the board lightly. “Absolutely,” he says. “They can learn so much from just pulling a few isotopes.” He looks up at me. “Great job, Lucy.”
“Is there more?” I ask. Justin nods and leads me to a nook off the laundry room. A few shelves are painted in the same way. “Yup. Milk-based,” I assess.
“This is great. Including this in my proposal will be so impressive.”
“What do you propose to do with it?”
“Just seal the boards to preserve them.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe no one has caught this yet.” He sits down on a small step outside the furnace room. He scribbles a few more notes before shutting the notebook dramatically. “There.” He smiles and I can’t look away. “Now I just have to type it up tomorrow and put it on their desk on Monday.”
“Is that when it’s due?” I ask.
Mason rolls his eyes. “No. It’s not due until December.”
“I want them thinking about me now,” Justin explains. He stands up, “Ready to go?”
I look around the stone laundry room. No. I want to stay here forever. My stomach ties into a giant knot and my heart is out of control. If we leave, then I’ll have to tell him soon.
“Or would you like one last descent down the grand stairway?” Mason adds.
“No.” The word flies from my mouth. “That’s okay.” I walk past Justin and turn the corner to ascend the stairs. Adrenaline pumps through my arteries. I pace my breaths like I do pre-game.
I refuse to let my mind wage battle on my heart. I’d already made the decision to tell him. I can’t reason myself out of it. My heart is in too much pain for me to care anymore. I hope Jennifer is right. Maybe by telling him, the pain will stop and I can start moving on.
I wait for Justin and Mason in the grand entryway. I trace my fingers over the curved woodwork. The carvings are delicate but strong, lasting through centuries. I will my sense of self to be as strong as the carvings. I don’t want to lose myself to heartbreak. I have to be stronger than that.
I watch Justin walk toward me, explaining his proposal to Mason. He is so passionate and genuine. Butterflies zoom through me. He smiles and I ache. I can’t live like this forever. I need to tell him. I need to take control of my life.
Mason opens the car door as he says goodbye. I thank him and wish him good night. He winks at me as he closes my door. Justin waves as we pull away. “I really think I’m going to get this job, Lucy.” He hits the steering wheel and smiles. “Troy’s going to freak out. This will change our lives forever.”
He turns off of Summit onto a side road to park. “I can’t go home. I’m too excited. Want to take a walk?”
I nod. Walking seems way more lending to professing my love than driving on a highway. “Want to see where I’m going to take Allison on our first date tomorrow night? It’s just around the corner.”
“Sure,” I manage to force through my lips. My heart screams.
We walk next to one another on the narrow sidewalk so our shoulders occasionally brush. I focus on the houses, still large but not mansions. Justin nods to one with a beautiful alcove. “I want to own a house like that someday,” he says. I nod back, I can’t find any words. My mind races. How do I tell him? Why didn’t I make a plan? Why won’t fate just throw me into the conversation?
“So, I’m sorry you had to drive home with Jennifer and Trish last night,” Justin says. I cringe at the memory of fake sleeping in the back seat. How pathetic. I can’t live like that. I won’t hide anymore.
“No big deal,” I say as some old confidence surges through my blood, paired with relief. I’m not going to hide any longer.
“Yeah, I noticed.” His eyes dance when he smiles. “I just want you to know that wasn’t my intention. I had no idea walking around the lake with Allison would take so long.”
“I bet; how’d everything go with Allison?”
“Good.” His dimples pop. “I think she really likes me. I kept things casual though. I didn’t really want to have the first date experience before we actually have our first date, you know?”
“Are you excited?” Why did I ask that? Shouldn’t I be taking his attention away from Allison?
“I’d be crazy not to be. Allison’s beautiful and really fun.” My chest burns. “I think we’ll get along fine.” I stop walking for a second to catch my breath. He doesn’t notice because he’s pointing to a low cluster of white lights just ahead.
“This is where I’m bringing her, W.A. Frost’s patio. It’s one of my favorite places. Don’t you think she’ll love it?” His warm hand suddenly rests on my back and leads me toward the fence. I peer inside, savoring the warmth of his touch. White Christmas lights are delicately strung through low tree branches. Small votives adorn each table. Waiters in white shirts dance through the narrow spaces between the tables.
It’s incredibly romantic.
“It’s perfect, Justin.” I turn away from the restaurant and close my eyes, resting my head against the brick privacy wall that separates the patio from the parking lot. I’m in so much pain. When I breathe, it’s as if knives are slicing away at my lungs.
I can’t bear this any longer.
“Lucy,” Justin steps close to me. His palm finds my arm. My heart hurts so much, it’s already tearing apart. “Are you okay?”
“No.” This is it. My heart’s on fire.
“What’s wrong?” Butterflies break through my stomach and zoom out of me through my legs, arms, fingers, and toes. Even they are abandoning ship.
I open my eyes. “I have to tell you something.”
“What?” Worry c
louds his face. He takes a step closer.
My heart screams. Agony.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath and pull myself together. This is happening now. Confidence, carry me through. I can’t go on.
My old confidence that used to carry me on the court finds me. Straightens my shoulders and moves me a step closer to him. Okay. “Please understand that I’m telling you this with no expectations, okay? I just have to tell you because I can’t keep being your friend if I don’t.”
“Did I do something wrong?” He moves in closer now and I can smell him. So good.
“No. It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?” His finger gently touches my cheek. I tremble and it’s obvious. But I don’t care. “You can tell me anything,” he says.
His green eyes search mine. I get lost in them for the last time. I trust my instincts and abandon my last restraint. “It’s just … I love you,” the words slip out softly.
And the world stops.
I gaze into Justin’s beautiful green eyes a bit longer. This is my last chance to be so close to him like this. I can’t look away.
But Justin does.
And I’m alone, even though he’s two steps away.
An intruding ring of his phone breaks the silence. He digs in his pocket for the phone and I catch Allison’s name flash across the screen.
“Oh. I … I should answer this,” he says. I bite my lip as he answers and walks away from me down the opposite side of the street. I bang the back of my head against the wall. Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt. I’m that numb.
Justin walks further away and turns the corner. He’s gone. Maybe it’s better that way? I wander across the street, grabbing a patio seat at the nearby Nina’s Café. A black French bulldog sits, tied to the chair next to me. He walks over and sniffs my hand. My fingers find that spot behind his ears and he gives me a drooly grin. I focus on his soft fur and his mangled bulldog teeth. My mind shuts out the rest of the world. I can’t deal with it any longer.
A warm hand pressing down on my shoulder eases me back into reality. Justin looks down at me. “Want to walk?” he asks. I stand up, making sure to maintain a safe distance from his side.
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