“Casey,” he shot back, still grinning, as soon as the words left his mouth. “My last name is Casey. I was born and raised here in Beaufast. I’m twenty years old, and I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress. Oh, and my family owns this place.” He gestured towards the café as he spoke, adding it as if it wasn’t worthy of the postscript. “Now, are you comin’?”
His voice was low and inviting. He could have been offering the most deadly of mortal sins and I would have gladly accepted. However, at that moment, while looking into Julian’s eyes, I was having trouble remembering even one of those sins. Slowly lifting my trembling hand, I lightly placed it in his. I could feel my pulse racing in each fingertip and prayed that he couldn’t feel it as well.
“So you never said where exactly we were going,” I reminded him, batting my eyelashes in an admittedly pathetic attempt at flirting. The act only caused me to blush at my own foolishness.
“No, I didn’t,” he replied, his grin turning cat-like as he pulled me away from the bench and onto the sidewalk. “You up for a quick stop before dinner?”
“Um, what kind of stop?” I asked skeptically, looking at him from the corner of my eye as we began to walk together.
“Trust me,” he replied as we continued on together. “This is a fun must.”
The early autumn evening was unseasonably warm, and people were taking full advantage. Julian and I walked side by side in silence for a long moment, though I could feel his eyes on me repeatedly. I felt terribly self-conscious for the first time in my life. Julian had perfectly tousled, short brown hair, while my plain red strands hung in lifeless waves long past my shoulders. His crystal blue eyes seemed to see right through me while mine were just eyes the color of plain moss. Julian was magnetic where I was old-fashioned, and I wondered briefly why this stunning creature had noticed me at all.
Finally, he broke the silence.
“Here we are,” he said eagerly as we approached what looked much like an ordinary park. Small, lighted black posts were spaced evenly along the grass at the edge of the sidewalk, and I could see nothing but grass beyond.
“A park?” I asked incredulously, assuming he was going to take me one of the movie theaters or pizza parlors he had mentioned. “This is where I get my education in fun?”
Julian just smirked, grabbed hold of my hand, and led me through the wet grass. Just ahead of us was a small hill. He pulled me to a stop as soon as we reached the ridge. I looked up from where my gaze was fixed on the ground to see a vast outdoor rink a few yards away. I wasn’t sure how they managed to keep it frozen, considering the weather conditions outside, but I could only assume there was some man-made technology behind it.
Trees encircled either side and were covered in white twinkling lights, accompanied by two large old-fashioned lampposts to bathe the area surrounding the rink in a soft golden glow.
Julian led me towards a small building to our right. As we passed the rink, I stopped in my tracks, mesmerized by the few skaters on the ice. Their bodies glided along like birds soaring effortlessly through the air. Before I knew it, we were standing in front of an open glass window at the small building and Julian was asking what shoe size I wore.
I turned to face the opening, and a cheerful brunette girl smiled at me in front of a backdrop of ice skates.
“Um, six and a half,” I stuttered while Julian removed his wallet from his coat pocket to pay the girl behind the glass. The idea that my tutorial in fun apparently was to include ice skating lessons had just begun to take hold. He repeated my shoe size to the girl behind the counter and added his own. She then set both pairs of skates on the counter. Julian grabbed them quickly, leading the way once again towards a small wrought iron bench sitting just off to the side of the ice.
I took off my old, worn-out boots, more than a little embarrassed by their shabby hand-me-down condition in comparison to Julian’s expensive-looking ones, and pulled on the skates. Julian finished first, then bent down to help me lace up my skates. I grinned sheepishly and bit my lower lip as his strong hands encircled my ankle to push my heel more firmly into the skate while I finished lacing the other.
“You ready?” He raised both eyebrows, standing and extending his hands out for mine.
“As I’ll ever be,” I replied with a nervous smile. I could only imagine all of the horribly embarrassing things that were about to happen to me out on that ice.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Julian said reassuringly. His voice was low in my ear as he pulled me close and ushered me out onto the ice. While I pulled my stuttering, protesting skates over the frozen water, his feet glided beneath him as gracefully as I was certain they would. I shuddered again at the thought of humiliating myself in front of this specimen of god-like grace, and Julian immediately focused his eyes on my tattered coat.
“How terribly absent-minded of me,” he exclaimed, pulling his leather jacket from his body. “You must be freezing out on this ice.”
He placed the toasty coat over my shoulders, and I slid my arms through the sleeves.
“Not freezing, exactly.” I smiled shyly. “Just a bit chilly. But you’ll freeze to death for sure now.”
“Nah,” he said with that mischievous smirk that made my heart beat fast. “Haven’t you noticed that I’m hot?”
I giggled aloud while my mind was screaming, how could I NOT notice?
He chuckled to show me that he was only joking, but I knew he was self-confident―who wouldn’t be in his place?
I stood there on the ice, watching Julian move as stealthily as if he were a predator silently stalking his prey, while breathing in the collar of his jacket―both of which made me a little dizzy. As I put my hands in the pockets of the leather jacket, I started to lose my balance. Beginning to fall backward, I tore my hands out of the pockets and clawed at the air for anything that might keep me on my feet. Before I knew what happened, I was in Julian’s arms; he'd somehow managed to catch me.
“I can’t let go of you for a single second, can I?” he said, shaking his head and grinning from ear to ear.
“I suppose not,” I replied meekly, looking down and biting my lower lip.
“You always do that,” Julian said suddenly, seeming to notice some familiar pattern.
“Do what?” I asked, completely clueless.
“Bite your lower lip when you feel shy or embarrassed,” he said, mimicking exactly what he was describing.
“Oh, that. Yeah, I’ve always done it―and have been scolded for it on more than one occasion,” I offered hesitantly.
“Scolded,” Julian scoffed. “What for? Is that some venial sin I’m unaware of?”
“Mother Superior said it made my responses seem tentative, and that I needed to be assertive and assured as a sign of faith,” I explained softly and sadly, knowing that I had always lacked the faith that Mother Superior desperately wished me to have.
“I don’t agree with that at all,” Julian shot back, not at me, but seemingly at Mother Superior. “It looks meek and gentle.” He looked at me with great warmth in his eyes.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling the weight of the air around me.
“Not to mention it’s sexy as hell,” he threw out with his cat-like grin, instantly lightening the mood.
I blushed.
“So why are we just standing here?” I questioned Julian sarcastically. “I thought you were teaching me how to have fun.”
“Oh, we’re gettin’ there,” he replied with a cocky tone that made the butterflies in my stomach flutter in unison.
“Are we now?” I allowed my tone to mirror his, knowing that flirting was uncharted territory for me. But I wanted so desperately to pull a page from Marianne Dashwood’s handbook in Sense and Sensibility.
He smiled wryly, grabbing my hands in his and turning around to skate backwards so that he could pull me along with him. We began soaring over the frozen pond as if we really were flying. The wind from the speed of the movement caused my eyelashes to stick to
my eyelids so that I couldn’t even blink, ensuring I wouldn’t miss a second of the world standing still around us while we moved together perfectly.
“I can’t believe this,” I exclaimed breathlessly, staring up into his blue eyes. “I’m actually ice skating―and I feel free . . . like I’m flying.”
“Told you it’d be fun.” Julian smiled back at me with warm eyes.
We did another lap around the rink and then sat back down on the same wrought iron bench to put our footwear back on. Julian returned our skates and was back at my side before I pulled on my second boot.
“You up for some more?” he asked as we stood up and began walking toward the hill that would lead us out of the park.
“More of what?” I asked cautiously.
“Education, silly. Hate to break it to you, but you’re still a rookie when it comes to fun,” he said mockingly. "I, on the other hand, wrote the playbook."
“Well, actually . . . ,” I managed to get out.
“Oh, right, you live in a convent. It’s late. I better get you home,” he interrupted hurriedly before I had a chance to finish my sentence.
“No, that’s not it. I don’t live at the convent anymore,” I said, unable to control the sadness in my voice or the tears welling up in my eyes.
“Oh.” Julian’s confusion was all over his face. “Since when? Where do you live now, if not there?”
“I left two days ago, after I turned 18. It was always clear that I couldn’t be what Mother Superior wanted me to be. I’ve just been wandering around town since. Last night I sat in a pew at Our Lady of Peace for hours―well, until the sun came up,” I answered almost robotically to avoid the embarrassment that came with telling someone that you were homeless.
“Are you crazy?!” Julian practically yelled at me. “I mean, this is a pretty small town and all, but something could have happened to you. Someone could’ve hurt you!”
I could tell his concern was real―and I couldn’t argue with logic. The only thing I really couldn’t figure out was why this near-total stranger cared.
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for your sentiment, but why are you so interested in my life and what happens to me?” I asked with a boldness that surprised even me. “I mean, you barely know me at all.”
“I honestly don’t know,” Julian answered thoughtfully. “I mean . . . I just feel some strange connection to you. And now I probably sound like a crazed psycho stalker.”
We both stood there in the park in silence, Julian staring down at his feet for the first time since I’d met him.
“I feel drawn to you too.” My near whisper shattered the long silence.
“Of course you do,” Julian smirked, attempting to do away with any awkwardness that such a conversation might cause.
Then it was my turn to stare down at my feet, though it seemed much more apropos coming from me.
“So how ‘bout you just stay with me tonight?”
“Huh?” I blurted out without thinking.
“At my parents’ house,” he chuckled. “You’ll stay in the guest room, of course. Tomorrow we can talk to them about getting you set you up with a room over the café. There are a couple for rent.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly intrude on your family that way,” I protested, although my mind instantly replayed my earlier prayers to St. Rita of Cascia, the Patron Saint Against Loneliness. Perhaps she had truly heard and interceded for me.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You wouldn’t be intruding,” Julian pleaded. “And besides, where else are you gonna go? We both know I’m not going to let you walk around Beaufast alone every night.”
“Are you sure your parents won’t mind?” I asked, more and more convinced that this was the answer to my prayer.
“Positive,” he assured me as he smiled tentatively in victory. "My mother talks incessantly about me bringing home a nice girl like you."
Part of me was uncertain about a mother who would be all right with her son bringing home any girl for the night, and the other part was insanely curious about the kind of girls Julian had brought home in the past. All of me, however, was desperate for a place to sleep that didn’t involve a church pew or being alone.
“All right then,” I finally agreed.
3
We walked side by side in comfortable silence down a curved street in one of the older, more affluent neighborhoods of Beaufast, Maine. I had never been in that area of town before, but Mother Superior had often criticized the wealthy parishioners who lived there, saying that they had "abandoned their faith in favor selfish desires." The memory of her voice inside my head brought a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, so I immediately pushed the thought away and focused my attention on my unfamiliar surroundings.
There were old-fashioned lampposts illuminating rolling landscapes, resplendent gardens full of autumn blossoms, and a stately white Victorian house with a balcony that stirred my mind to thoughts of reenacting scenes from Romeo and Juliet with my traveling companion. Grinning to myself, I emerged from my musings to realize that we had stopped walking.
"So," Julian and I said at exactly the same time.
"Ladies first," he offered with a charming grin and a bow to match.
"Oh, um," I replied stupidly, biting my lower lip and trying desperately to clear my mind of my silly schoolgirl thoughts. "Is this . . . " I trailed off as I heard the echo of footsteps approaching.
I turned toward the sound of the advancing footfalls to see a stranger pacing under a streetlamp several feet away. His long, unkempt hair was tangled and matted, and his unruly beard and wild eyes made him appear savage. The threadbare red flannel shirt he wore was tattered and his blue jeans were full of holes, as were his leather boots.
Finally seeming to realize that Julian and I had stopped walking, the man began to utter words in a voice so low and gravelly that it was impossible to hear him from where I was standing. Without thinking, I slowly took a step toward the stranger when Julian grabbed me by the left arm.
"What are you doing?" he practically growled at me.
I looked at the shaking grip that Julian held on my arm and then up at his face in an attempt to understand why he was so angry. What I found was not anger at all. All of the color had drained from his face―he looked as if he were ready to crawl out of his own skin.
"Julian, it's all right," I explained as gently as I could without sounding condescending. "I've worked at shelters and soup kitchens my whole life. He probably just needs some money for food."
"Don't move," Julian said shakily as he released his hold on my arm and reached into his back pocket. He withdrew a leather wallet, opened the tri-fold, and removed a fifty-dollar bill before returning the wallet to his jeans pocket. Julian's brow was creased with worry and his hands were shaking violently. He tossed the money into the street in the direction of the stranger before taking hold of my arm again and hurrying me up the cobblestone walkway to his parents’ house.
His reaction to the man was beyond perplexing, and I was mildly disgusted that he'd literally just thrown money at him as though handing it to the poor soul was beneath him somehow. Just as we reached the steps, I looked back over my shoulder to find the man standing where he had been, watching me intently. He hadn't picked up the money.
"I'll be right back," I fired at Julian, pulling my arm free. I darted down the walkway and scooped up the fifty-dollar bill on my way across the street.
"ASPEN!" he yelled from behind me, but didn't follow. As I approached the vagrant, I slowed, not wanting to startle him. His expression remained unchanged as I reached my hand toward him, clearly exhibiting the bill it held. Staring right through me with glazed-over eyes, he made no attempt to accept my offering. Instead, he opened his mouth and began to speak.
"Eyes on the prize―they bring forth lies. Don't forget or you'll regret," he whispered cryptically as his glossy eyes locked on mine.
Though I had no idea what he was talking about, the intensity of the man's
words paralyzed me. Retreating footsteps snapped me out of my trance-like state and back to the reality of the vagrant walking back the way he had come. I was still holding the money from Julian's wallet.
"Wait!" I called out to him. "You didn't take the money!"
The stranger just kept walking. I called out again, but he continued his journey down the street without so much as a backward glance. I silently watched him until he rounded the corner and disappeared.
What just happened?
Turning back toward the large white house, I reluctantly made my way back over to where Julian was still frozen in the same place I’d left him.
*
We walked through the enormous front door of the Casey home as if the incident with the stranger had never occurred. Julian had traded his earlier vice-like grip on my arm for a much more intimate placement on the small of my back. His expression returned to the crooked smile that had been increasingly familiar until his apparent disgust with the homeless person. As I looked up at him, I was struck by the realization that I knew practically nothing about the man standing beside me.
I wasn't aware I was staring at Julian, or that we were no longer alone, for that matter, until the sound of a man clearing his throat brought me back to reality. I reacted as though Mother Superior had caught me reading after lights-out and looked up sharply to find myself standing before two of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. The expressions they wore were a mixture of surprise and amusement.
With the exception of his amber eyes and close-cropped hair, Julian's father was an older version of his son. The baby blues were clearly a gift from Julian's mother, who had perfectly coiffed golden hair and a single strand of pearls to complement her cream-colored sweater and brown pants. His father wore a white button-down shirt and gray trousers, which he somehow managed to make look like an expensive suit.
His father approached first, leading his wife over with his left hand on her back.
"Julian, would you care to introduce us to your lovely young lady friend?" His father looked to my escort with his eyebrows raised and a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
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