Dearborn

by Jenni Moen

  “You make me crazy. Spill it. Is she giving you the runaround again?” Ryan’s on-again, off-again girlfriend was a flighty little thing who’d had serious commitment issues in the past. I really didn’t want to have to hunt Vanessa down again, but I would. “Do you need me to break some bones again?”

  He laughed, but this time it sounded pained. “Umm, no. That was like the worst night ever. And a completely mismatched fight, I might add.”

  “She could’ve flown away.”

  “Not after you broke her wings.” He glared at me but could only hold the look for a second. She’d deserved it, and he knew it. Secretly, I think he liked that I’d stood up for him. “Besides, that was a long time ago, and she’s changed her ways. She’s not the problem.”

  “She better have. So it’s your parents then?”

  “Yep.”

  “They do realize you’re a grown man, right?”

  He snorted. “If I were eighty, wearing a diaper, and looking through Coke bottle-sized cataracts, they’d feel the same way when it comes to her and her family.”

  I sighed in exasperation for him. I didn’t necessarily agree with Ryan’s choice of women, but it wasn’t for the same reason his family didn’t.

  The bear-shifting Balere family had deep-seated prejudices. Prejudices so old I didn’t even think they could remember why they existed. It was silly. Anyone who’d been involved in the family feud had been dead for at least fifty years.

  I didn’t know what to say to make it better for him. All I could do was sympathize. “It’s ridiculous, Ryan. Have your parents never seen Grease, Beauty and the Beast, or Knocked Up? Opposites attract. It’s the law of nature. You’re big. She’s small. You’re furry. She has feathers. You have four legs. She has two. So what?”

  His eyes widened before shifting down. “According to them, I’ve dipped my wick in a pool of shame. They’re using phrases like species dilution.” His disappointment with his family wrapped around me, and I was equally enraged.

  Ryan’s grandfather dominated the Balere family. If he didn’t approve of a family member’s actions, they heard about it. There had been a fair amount of growling when Ryan had hooked up with Vanessa the first time. I’d thought Ryan was simply being young and rebellious, but Vanessa kept reappearing in his life, creating an ongoing riff between him and his family. Their disapproval was eating him up. It wasn’t in his DNA to be a loner.

  I reached across the counter and wrapped my hand around one of his giant ones. “That has to hurt, but we both know it has nothing to do with how many legs she has. Even if she were a fox, a deer, or a tiger, they wouldn’t approve. All they care about is her last name.”

  “My dad said there’s only room for one pecker in a marriage.”

  I let go of his hands, leaned back, and laughed. I couldn’t help myself. “Sorry, but that’s funny.”

  He smiled but dropped his head into his hands. “It is, but they said if I don’t end it, they’re going to throw me out of the family. Marrying her is out of the question.”

  I felt my eyes bulge. “But you’re not even close to doing that, right?” Ryan and I’d had plenty of heart-to-hearts about Vanessa, but this was the first time he’d used the M word. “Right?” He ran his big hand down his face and didn’t answer. “Oh my God. You are. You really are thinking about it, aren’t you?”

  “We’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  “We’re twenty-nine, Ryan. A long way from AARP and diapers.”

  “I want to marry her. That’s not going to change. I love her, and she loves me.” I must’ve looked at him warily. “She’s the only person I know who can block me, but she chooses not to. She doesn’t hide anything from me anymore.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know.”

  In addition to his occasionally rebellious nature, one other thing sets Ryan apart from the rest of his bear-shifting family. He could read minds. Theirs. Mine. Everyone who came into the diner. Everyone except Vanessa when she didn’t want him to.

  It was how he’d known, when he’d written the first note to me in second grade, that I had no plans the day he wanted to swim in the creek. It was how he knew what people were going to order for breakfast even before they told me. It was why, even if we didn’t look at each other like siblings, we could never be a couple. But it was exactly the reason he could be with Vanessa. She could block him out of her head when she wanted. None of us could figure out how or why.

  “I love her, Willow.”

  My heart caved in on itself. My best friend wanted to get married, and the ramifications were endless. He was practically my only friend, and I didn’t even get along with Vanessa. I knew she wasn’t screwing around on him anymore, but I hadn’t really believed it would get this far.

  I was wrong.

  I watched him run his hands through his hair. As hard as it was to think about losing him to her, his despair was greater than my own. I was choking on it. I needed to make a friend out of her, and I needed to do it soon. “Well, then I guess we have to figure out a way to make them see how ridiculous they’re being.”

  He looked up. “You’ll help me figure this out?” Instantly, the heavy weight pressing against my chest lifted.

  “Of course I will.”

  His hope grew with every encouraging word. “But you don’t like her.”

  “You do. That’s enough for me. I’ll grow to love her.” He squeezed my hand. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me for the broken wings?” I asked.

  “She already has. She knows she deserved it, and she knows we’re a package deal. The real question is why are you suddenly being so forgiving?”

  “If she’s the one, then I have to accept it. Your family will too. Do you remember how mad my parents were when I gave up college to spend my life working in a diner? They came around though and yours will, too. It just takes time.”

  He stood up suddenly and walked around the counter. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and pulled me into one of his big bear hugs. “You’re the best, and your parents are so proud of you now.”

  “They are.”

  The bell above the door dinged. “We’re closed,” Ryan growled.

  We both turned toward the door, him with an arm still draped around my shoulders. I was glad for it. There were so many conflicting colors in the room, I could barely see. A cobalt haze of disappointment mixed with a green something or other I couldn’t identify through the headache that had struck.

  I didn’t have to see Quinn to know he was there.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I think I left my phone on the counter when I was here earlier.” His voice was thick and ragged.

  I reached into the pocket of my apron for his phone. My knees buckled, and I sagged into Ryan. If he hadn’t been holding me up, I would’ve been a puddle at his feet. Quinn took a few steps forward, but Ryan put up a hand to stop him. Ryan set me gently on the stool and snatched the phone from my hand. He met Quinn at the door, standing between us so his broad back blocked my view.

  Not that I was seeing anything clearly anyway.

  Seconds later, the bell rang again and Ryan was back at my side. He scooped me up and sat me on the counter, putting his arms around me once again, pulling me forward so he supported my weight. I rested my forehead on his shoulder and waited for the nausea to pass.

  “What’s going on, Willow?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  “All I’m getting off you is confusion. You don’t know what’s happening, but you feel like shit. Every time he seems to be in the room, you ask yourself why you feel like complete and utter shit. You’re nauseous. You’re seeing things. You’re confused because it’s different from anything you’ve ever experienced.”

  “That pretty much sums it up. What about him?” I sat up straighter. The nausea had left with Quinn.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  I pulled back and met his gaze. “
No, I do.”

  “I don’t like your fascination with him. His thoughts are all over the place. He’s angry. He’s sad. He’s disappointed. He’s mad. He’s jealous. And he’s also rocking a severe case of confusion. The war has him all kinds of screwed up.”

  “I’m getting that, too. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “He doesn’t understand why he feels any of these things. He’s dangerous, Willow. Volatile. I don’t like it, and I don’t like the reaction you’re having to him.”

  I sighed and slumped forward again, exhausted.

  “Something’s different with him. With everyone else, unless the feelings are really negative, I can handle it. Only when I pick up an intensely negative energy is it hard, but even then, my wall is good at keeping most people out. At least, it’s bearable.”

  He nodded to spur me on.

  “But Quinn’s all over the place. He’s a deluge of contradictory feelings and bright, vibrant colors. The colors are blinding. Beautiful but blinding. I think there’s a link between what I’m seeing and what I’m feeling, but I’m not sure yet. When he came in earlier this morning to meet his friends, he was nervous, and everything was yellow and orange with maybe a tinge of red.”

  “He was nervous. They’ve been pestering him to meet them, but this was the first time he’s done more than go to the grocery store. In three months, Willow. People make him nervous, and that makes me nervous.”

  It made sense. What Ryan was reading off him matched everything I was feeling. “Why did you read him? Were you trying to?” Ryan was generally as good at blocking people out as I was. Sometimes, he slipped, but sometimes, he eavesdropped for no other reason than he was bored.

  “I didn’t have to. He’s a screamer.”

  That also matched what I was feeling. “And when he came in just now, he was, I don’t know… what? Disappointed? Is that right?”

  “Disappointed and jealous.”

  “Jealous? Of what?”

  “Of me. He thinks we’re a couple.”

  I laughed. “Quinn Dearborn wouldn’t care about that. He was never interested in me.” Surely, Ryan had misread him. Quinn was probably just being friendly.

  Then again, Ryan was rarely wrong about people. It was kind of hard to get it wrong when you knew exactly what everyone was thinking.

  “Well, he sure as hell is now. You’re all grown up, and he likes what he sees. That is exactly what he was thinking.”

  I blushed. It wasn’t fair that I knew what Quinn thought of me, but it didn’t mean I didn’t like hearing it.

  “It’s probably a good thing he thinks we’re a couple,” Ryan continued. “He’s no good, Willow. Too conflicted. Dangerous.”

  Now, Ryan had to have that wrong. I refused to believe Quinn was a bad guy. “That’s ridiculous, Ry. He’s always been a good guy, and he’s a hero, for God’s sake. People are alive because of him.”

  Ryan shook his head. “And I’m sure plenty of people are dead because of him, too.”

  I shuddered. “You pulled that out of his head?” I couldn’t imagine what Quinn had been through while he’d been away. War was an ugly, ugly thing, but whatever he’d done had been justified. Only a good man would have the guilt and regret he had.

  “Look, I have a tremendous amount of respect for the man. I don’t mean he’s not good. I just mean he’s not good for someone like you. He’s a screamer. His thoughts were literally so loud that I couldn’t hear anyone else in the diner, Willow. ”

  “Funny. That’s how I felt about him, too, but I never got that sense when we were younger. He was never any different from anyone else.”

  “And today, you felt sick every time he came near. Maybe your abilities have grown.”

  “Not all the time. It only happens when he is upset. He was fine when he was talking to Bryson. Calm almost.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “He needs a friend. You of all people know that.”

  “He has friends. They were with him today. He doesn’t need you. Whatever is going on here—” he motioned to my body, “—is not good for you.”

  “You know how it works, Ryan. You learn to adapt. Those are the cards we’ve been dealt. It’s who we are.” The wall hadn’t worked today, but it just meant I needed to figure out where my weaknesses were and rebuild it so it was strong enough for Quinn.

  “No, it’s not the same. What you have to deal with is much worse than what I deal with. No one has ever made me physically ill.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. Ryan considered his special ability a gift, but being an empath had always felt more like a curse to me. “So why do you think he’s different? What do you think it means?”

  Ryan stepped back, put his hands on my shoulders, and squeezed. “I think it means you need to stay away from him.”

  “But what if he’s different for me like Vanessa is different for you?”

  “Vanessa works against my powers. She nulls them out, and because of that, I find balance and peace with her. It’s what makes us work.” It was another unarguable point. Vanessa could escape Ryan’s mind games and give them both a break when they needed it. “Quinn is working with your powers, amplifying them somehow,” he continued. “I don’t understand how he’s doing it. Obviously, he has no clue it’s even happening, but for whatever reason, you could barely walk when he was in the room.”

  I bit my lip and considered it. “He used to have such a positive energy.” There’d been a time when his energy had been like a magnet, drawing me to him. His negative energy didn’t seem to be any different, though I had to admit it didn’t feel as good.

  He dropped his hands from my shoulders and sighed. “You’re not going to stay away from him, are you?”

  I couldn’t make a false promise when Ryan could pick the truth right out of my head. I made a joke instead. “All my life, I’ve been waiting for someone to knock me off my feet. What if this is it?”

  “Prince Charming shouldn’t make you vomit. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I promise I won’t seek him out. How’s that?”

  He shook his head. “As good as I’m going to get.”

  WILLOW

  AS SOON AS THE LAST words of the lecture left my professor’s lips, I slammed my notebook closed and shoved it into my bag. My mind should’ve been on my professor. He was going to teach me everything I needed to know about business and hospitality law, which was something I would need someday soon, I hoped.

  Unfortunately, someone a few rows behind me had hijacked my attention for the last forty-five minutes.

  Concentrating during class was difficult at times. Most of the university’s students were younger than I was. They had more friends than I did. They had more fun than I did. But they also had a lot more drama in their lives. With drama came an overabundance of emotion. Even the quiet of the library was a cacophony in my head.

  Sometimes, I wished I could read minds like Ryan. Everyone around me was a puzzle, but I only had half of the pieces. Even when I tried to force them together, I still came up with only half a picture. I had to remind myself constantly that I was on campus to learn. Getting wrapped up in the peripheral noise of other people’s problems was not an option. Yet that was exactly what I’d done today.

  The girl behind me was grieving, but I didn’t know why. A person? A pet? A love gone wrong? It didn’t matter. I’d spent the last forty-five minutes wiping at my stinging eyes, taking deep calming breaths, and forcing myself not to put my head down on the desk and bawl with her. I was exhausted.

  I followed the flow of students out of the building and onto the sidewalk. Heading toward the parking lot, I cut across the lawn leading away from the throng of chattering students, hoping to save a few steps and a shred of my sanity.

  I tapped out two text messages, one to Pizza Pi and one to Ryan, who would already be waiting for me at home. For the price of an occasional dinner and a whole lot of beer, he was helping me renovate my
old house. We’d already finished the first floor and were moving on to the upstairs tonight.

  The first wave of nausea hit me as I got close to my car.

  He was nearby.

  It had been almost a week since I’d seen Quinn. He hadn’t come back to the diner, but I hadn’t expected him to. That didn’t mean I hadn’t been thinking about him. Out of sight, out of mind was not working for me.

  Get in your car and get out of here, my Ryan-guided common sense urged me. I knew from the weekend before that distance would bring relief. As soon as Quinn had driven out of the parking lot of the diner, I’d felt instantly better. The headache had lingered, but he took the nausea with him.

  The smart thing to do was to ignore the pull, get in my car, and go home. But there was a louder voice coming from somewhere deeper inside me. It overpowered the voice of reason and propelled my feet to walk right on past the refuge of my car.

  The nausea took a turn for the worse as I approached the back of the parking lot, telling me I was heading in the right direction … or the wrong one, if I was to believe Ryan.

  I didn’t doubt Ryan’s intentions. He was looking out for me as he always had. But he could be overprotective at times, and I didn’t really believe Quinn was dangerous. I couldn’t reconcile Ryan’s warnings with what I knew about him—Quinn had been a good kid who’d sacrificed everything for the good of his country and gone on to become a hero.

  I found him in the back row of the parking lot, slumped over the steering wheel of a beater of an old truck. If not for the arc of color radiating from him, I would have thought he was injured or passed out … or worse. The halo of oranges, yellows, and blues emanating from the truck told me otherwise.

  I’d never seen anyone project color like Quinn did. Every now and then, I could see a light hue around someone if they were a strong projector in an intense moment. More typically, though, the color association was entirely in my head. I sensed purple in response to anger, a light lovely red for love and adoration, and yellow for fear. The grieving girl in class made me think a dark cobalt blue, but I didn’t see it.