Summer Sunsets

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Summer Sunsets Page 11

by Maria Rachel Hooley


  Without meaning to, I laugh. “Skye, that was years ago. Years. And anyway, she doesn’t hold grudges like that.”

  Skye’s eyes flash in my direction. “So can you tell me she doesn’t have any problems with us dating?”

  The first thing I think about is Skye’s open admission to dating, something Skye’s has never done before. Then I follow her thought and frown, unsure how to answer. “Well, she’s concerned because of how things transpired that year, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you. It means she wants everything to be okay, and like anyone else, she can’t control how things turn out.”

  Another car pulls up in front of the house, and I nod toward it. “Besides, this barbeque is going to have lots of people here besides my mom. If you’re worried she’s going to make a scene, she won’t. Promise.”

  This time I do get out, and Skye reluctantly follows my lead. Her fingers quickly brush down her dress, straightening the soft flowing cotton as she mutters, “I shouldn’t have worn a dress like this.”

  I smile and wrap my arm around her. “Come on, Skye. You look absolutely beautiful.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” she mutters, drawing close.

  “Yeah, it is,” I whisper, and kiss her ear. “Because you’re beautiful no matter what you’re wearing, and I’m glad you’re with me.”

  She doesn’t answer as we amble up the steps and into the house. As I’d expected, everyone is out back, so we head that way, Skye hovering close beside me. Once we get to the glass sliding door leading to the back patio, she stops suddenly as she stares about at the twenty or so people congregating in the yard. Even though everyone is dressed in shorts or casual clothes, Skye stops abruptly.

  “It’s just a barbeque,” I say again. “No one is going to be rude.”

  Her gaze flickers to me, and I ease open the door and gently nudge her forward. As we step across the threshold, she shakes her head. “You owe me big time for this, Devin.”

  “Looks like the next ten movies we’re watching are going to be romantic comedies,” I sigh and paste a smile on my face as Uncle Rick slowly approaches. He’s wearing jeans and a white polo shirt. Much of the black hair and beard I remember has greyed, and there are fine lines around his eyes and mouth. The grin he wears grows larger by the moment, and he wraps his arms around me.

  “Devin! Long time no see.”

  “Hey, Uncle Rick,” I say. He looks over at Skye.

  “And who is this lovely lady?”

  Skye squirms uncomfortably beneath his inquisitive gaze. I try to reassure her by slipping my arm around her, my fingers lightly resting at the middle of her back.

  “This is Skye Williams.”

  She nods awkwardly in acknowledgement. “Hey, Skye, this is my Uncle Rick.”

  Realization dawns on Rick’s face. “Oh, so this is Skye. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  With that, Skye glares in my direction. “I hope it was good.”

  “Of course.” He looks back at me. “And have you gotten taller, or am I shrinking?”

  “You’re definitely shrinking,” I confirm, and pat his shoulder. “It’s hard to get old, isn’t it?”

  Rick wags a warning finger at me. “Old, eh? Yeah, well, I must be old because I remember when you were this short,” he says, lowering his hand to just above his knees. “And you decided to strip off your diaper and walk around the house, spurting pee like a little cherub fountain.”

  “Thanks, Uncle Rick,” I manage as Skye bursts out laughing so hard I think she’s going to fall down.

  Rick pats my shoulder. “Any time. That’s what you get for crossing foils with an old man.” He winks at me and walks away, leaving me red-faced and Skye giggling.

  Once Rick has stepped away, I shake my head. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

  “You’re the one saying I never smile enough. I think that’s about a week’s worth, don’t you?”

  “Just about.” I shake my head and nod toward my father, who’s busy manning the grill. He’s stacked a pile of burgers and hot dogs on a platter, and the air is filled with the scent of them. “Come on. Let’s get a burger.”

  “Some things never change,” Skye says as I grab her hand and lead her that way.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, edging among the guests, my grip sure on Skye’s hand.

  “You and food. Inseparable.”

  I frown at her grin. “It is a barbeque, Skye. You know—an opportunity to eat.” I point at the platter of burgers. “Besides, you wouldn’t want all that food to go to waste, would you?”

  “Oh, definitely not. We couldn’t have that.”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  As we step up to the grill, my dad turns toward me. “Hey, Devin. Grab a plate for you and Skye.”

  “I intend to.” I reach for the paper plates and give her one. “For you.”

  “Thanks.” She looks at the burgers and dogs, probably thinking neither of those fit into her birdlike diet.

  I lean toward her and whisper in her ear. “You have to pick one. Like this.” I grab the tongs and heft a couple of burgers onto the plate then hand her the tongs. “Your turn.”

  “Yeah, I got that.” She takes the tongs and puts one patty on her plate, then we walk over to the table where the buns and other fixings wait. As we assemble our burgers, I see my mom at the other end of the table, her gaze fixed first on me and then on Skye. Although Skye is nervous, I’m not. For one thing, even if my mother had something against Skye, which she doesn’t, Mom also knows Skye is very important to me, which means she’s not about to say something hurtful.

  Skye is so fixated on her plate she doesn’t recognize Mom is there, not until we reach the end, where the drinks are and come face-to-face with her.

  “Hey, Devin. Skye.”

  Immediately, Skye’s head jerks up and she sort of takes a tiny step back, inhaling sharply. I can see her hands tremble and for just a second I worry she’s going to drop the plate. She doesn’t.

  “Hey, Mom,” I say. “It looks great.”

  She nods towards my plate. “Are two burgers going to be enough?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. They’ll be fine.”

  She peers at Skye’s plate. “You’re not eating much, hon. Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Skye always eats like a bird.”

  Skye gives me a dirty look. “That’s not true.”

  “Only on days that end in Y,” I smirk. I nod toward an empty table not far away. “There’re some seats.”

  Rolling her eyes, Skye says, “Yes, your royal pain in the butt.” She saunters that way and sinks into the first open seat she comes across.

  “You think I’m a pain in the butt? I’m hurt, Skye. Really.” I try to keep from smiling, but it comes out anyway.

  “Oh, sit down and eat,” she mutters, glaring at the chair. As I sink into it and she starts eating, I can tell there’s something she’s not saying. Skye is notorious for keeping things bundled up inside, where it takes a salvage team to find them.

  “See, I told you this wouldn’t be so bad.”

  She shrugs and takes a bite of her burger. “You know how I feel about getting together with all these strangers.”

  “You’re not with a group of strangers. You’re with me. They just happened to be here, too. Besides, you wanted to watch a bunch of chick flicks without me growling any complaints.”

  “You got that much right.” She leans forward so her long hair falls into her face, and she lifts a trembling hand to brush it back. Her hair only stays there for a few seconds before the breeze tosses it back over her face.

  “So, have you figured out any jobs you might be interested in?” I ask and study her face. It’s more for conversation than anything.

  She shrugs. “I’ve put in my application with various schools, but I’m thinking it’s probably going to be a few weeks before I hear anything.” She grabs her napkin and dabs at her mouth. “You?”

  I shake my head. “No, not yet
. I’ve got resumes out there, but nothing has come of it yet.”

  Reaching over, she grasps my hand. “It will—for both of us.”

  I smile and once again marvel at how she has so much faith in certain things while not having much in others. I guess I can thank her real dad, who left when Skye was small, for starting that trend, and Tyler for keeping it going.

  “Yeah, I know.” She looks around at all the people and sees my mom talking to her neighbor, Sandra Owens. The two stare at us.

  “Ten to one I know what they’re saying, and it’s probably not good.” She looks down at her burger.

  I nudge her shoulder. “No, you don’t know what they’re saying. You think you do, but it could be anything. We’ve been friends forever, Skye. That’s a lot of ammo over the years. Don’t you remember when Ms. Owens caught us playing Hide and Seek in her garden out back? I thought she was going to have a coronary right there. I got grounded for two weeks.”

  Skye laughs. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  I nod toward the burger on her plate. “You haven’t eaten much, Skye. Maybe you’d better finish that.”

  She exhales loudly with a sighing sort of sound. “Yes, Mother. I’ll be sure to do that.”

  “Good.” I pat her leg and stand. She looks at me questioningly.

  “Where are you going?”

  I point to a far table. “Dessert is that way, and I spotted brownies.”

  With that, she busts out laughing because she knows my weakness just as well as I do. I love brownies, doesn’t matter what kind. “I should have known, Hollow Legs.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, stepping away. “I’ll even bring some back for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  I head to the table, and my mother meets me there. Glancing over my shoulder at Skye.

  “Devin, is Skye all right?” she asks, cutting me a piece of brownie and piling it on a plate.

  “She’s fine, Mom. Really good.”

  “She looks kind of nervous.” She hands me the plate and our eyes meet, telling me she’s worried. Again.

  “Mom, she thinks you don’t like her because of everything that happened. It’s hard for her to adjust.”

  Mom starts cutting another piece. “I never said I didn’t like her. I just worry about how things are going between the two of you.” She starts to set the brownie on the other plate, but it begins to fall. Without thought, I shove my plate under and catch it so she can relocate it to the other plate.

  “I know you’re worried, Mom, but Skye isn’t like that anymore, and no matter how much you think I ought to look at other girls, I know what’s right for me. And it’s her. It’s always been her.”

  Averting her gaze, Mom kind of ducks her head and nods. “Yeah, I know. You two have been inseparable since you were little. I just thought time and distance might…change things.”

  “They did,” I agree. “They made it painfully clear don’t want to be without her.”

  “Give this one to Skye. She needs to eat something. She’s too skinny.” Mom pushes the plate with the other brownie into my hand.

  “Thanks. I’ll tell her you sent it.”

  As I turn and head back to my chair, I feel Skye’s gaze lingering on me, her lips tugged into a nervous frown. Maybe I should take that as another confirmation of how she feels about me because if it didn’t matter what my mother thought of us, how much could she really think of me as more than a friend?

  “Devin? Is that you?”

  The voice stops me, and I turn to find my dad’s secretary, Brenda Marcos, right there. It’s been years since she’s seen me, so I know what’s coming as I look into her face and find more wrinkles there than the last time I saw her. Her blue eyes are a little more faded with time, but she smiles nonetheless, and the late afternoon sunlight seeps through her honey hair, dyed though it probably is.

  “Hey, Brenda.” I offer her a smile, and she reaches out to tug me into a soft embrace.

  “It’s so good to see you,” she whispers before pulling back and giving me a good once-over that reminds me of my mother’s. “You look more and more like your father every time I see you.”

  “I’m sure I do.” I nod absently. No, she’s not looking at me at present, just at the ground, averting her gaze. I know she’s uncomfortable here. She’s never been one for crowds. “I should get back to Skye.”

  Brenda slowly turns and focuses her attention on Skye, and a smile crosses her face. “She’s beautiful. Is she your girlfriend?”

  I nod. “Something like that.”

  Setting her hand on my shoulder, she nods. “I’m sure there isn’t a luckier girl to be found.”

  “Thanks.” I take a deep breath and wonder if Skye feels that way. Hell, I can’t even bring myself to formally call her my girlfriend, but it doesn’t matter. Skye’s as much a part of me as my arm or leg.

  Skye’s staring into space when I finally sink back into my chair and offer her the plate with a brownie. “Mom sent this over for you.”

  She slowly turns to face me and reaches to take the plate. “Thank you.” For a moment, we quietly enjoy dessert while my father’s guests chat. By the time we’ve finished, I think Skye has had pretty much all the socializing she can stand, and I’m pretty tired of it, too.

  When she finishes, I take the plate and nod toward the house. “So are you ready to start that chick flick marathon?”

  She glances at my Mom. “Won’t your parents be upset you left so quickly?”

  Shrugging, I grab her hand. “Hey, I did the obligatory showing-up thing. I came, I chatted, I ate. What else is there?”

  Rising, she shrugs. “You’ve got a point, and who am I to argue with Devin logic?”

  “A wise woman.” I toss the plates into the trash and lead her back toward the house, offering a few passing “hellos” and nods as we go. Still holding her hand, I slide open the back door and lead her through the house.

  As we step off the front porch, there are still guests arriving, and I waive them inside before we head back to my Jeep. I open the door for Skye and tuck her inside before getting in and starting the engine.

  Although I know this may not be the ideal time, I’ve finally decided to take my chance as best I can with the future I want to make. I don’t know what she’s going to say or even if I’ve given her enough reason to believe in me. Is a life of loyalty and desire enough for her? Would that she could look through me and know what’s there, but she can’t. No one can.

  I take a deep breath and start driving, not to the video store to rent movies and not even to Skye’s house. Instead, I go to the park where we used to lie on cement tables and look at the stars—so many memories that remind me of how good things can be between us. I know she remembers them, too. Yes, it seems like forever ago, but it wasn’t so far.

  For a few moments, Skye says nothing, not until she sees me pull up in front of the park. That’s when I kill the engine and frown, trying to gather both my wits and my words, wondering what I can say that will convince her this future is right. There has to be something. Now if I can just find it in the next five minutes.

  “This is the park. What are we doing here?” She looks out the window and finally turns to me.

  “Yeah, it is,” I agree, thinking of the ring in my pocket, wondering if I should take it out in expectation or leave it inside in doubt. In the end, I just decide to keep it there and wait. It’s not that I know for sure what her answer is going to be. I just don’t want to spook her, and I think that might actually do it. So let’s see what I can accomplish with words instead.

  “I know it’s the park, but there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  “Here?”

  “Why not?” I shrug and turn to face her. “It used to be one of our favorite places in the world. Don’t you remember all the time we spent here when we were in junior high and high school?”

  A smile touches her lips, and she nods. “Yeah, it just seems so long ago. So many things
have changed since then that sometimes I wonder if we’re even the same people.”

  I reach out and brush the hair from her eyes. “Of course we are. They’re just buried in there.”

  Skye shifts nervously in her seat. “So what did you want to talk about?” She’s chewing her bottom lip, and she’s removed her gaze from mine.

  “I wanted to talk about us, about how I feel about you.”

  Her shoulders stiffen, and she inhales sharply. Her bottom lip falls slightly, as though she’s going to say something, but no words come out so that leaves me no choice but to go on.

  “Skye, we’ve been best friends for years, and I’ve tried to let that be enough, but it’s not. I—”

  “Don’t,” she whispers, not looking at me. Her hand clenches the door handle, and it feels like she’s going to try to claw her way out at the first opportunity.

  “We need to talk about this. I need for us to talk about this.”

  Without warning, she slips her fingers to my lips and shakes her head. “I know what you feel, Devin, and there’s probably nothing I can do to change them. God knows I’ve made enough mistakes, so you should have already changed your mind, but it hasn’t happened.”

  “And it won’t,” I admit quietly.

  “Maybe not,” she agrees, her hand gently stroking my face. “But I don’t want to jinx it, Devin. I don’t want to speak it out loud or call it something that might make it all fall apart. Maybe that’s stupid. Maybe it’s juvenile, but every time I start to believe the world is settling, something happens, so right now I just want to be, without deep talks involving a future neither of us can predict or control. Please. However you feel about me, don’t use words to control it.”

  Her eyes moisten with tears, and I hear pain her voice as it trembles over the break of words. I think of the ring sitting at the bottom of my pocket, and even though I want to pull it out, I’m willing to consider that maybe she’s right. Maybe we need the time to get used to being together. Just because I know I’m in love with her doesn’t mean she’s ready to admit how she feels about me in broad daylight.

  “Skye,” I begin, but she places her fingertips over my lips again, halting whatever I might be about to turn loose of.

 

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