No One Knows

by J. T. Ellison

She smoothed down her hair and took a sip of the tea. She needed to be honest with him. It was only fair.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” she said.

  He smiled widely. “Don’t know how to do what? You seem to be quite on top of things, if you know what I mean.” He ran his hand up her leg and leaned in to kiss her. She shut her eyes and focused on the softness of his lips. She wanted him. So much. He finally stopped and pulled back, one eyebrow raised.

  “See?”

  “It’s not that. I’m a mess, Chase. I have to give you fair warning. You may want to run away as fast as you can.”

  He smiled. “I’m willing to do whatever I have to, Aubrey. You are one in a million. I can see that already. I’m just looking forward to getting to know what’s in here”—he tapped her right temple—“as well as what’s in here.” His other hand moved all the way up her leg this time, and he cupped her, moving inside.

  She felt the impact through her whole body. Her back arched a bit, allowing him to settle deeper. He didn’t move to kiss her again, just stared deep in her eyes as he moved his finger slowly. Her breath came short, and before she could stop herself, stop the feelings, she began to shake. Only then did he kiss her, and drive himself inside her. She rode him, wave after wave after wave, and felt all the parts of her shatter.

  PART TWO

  Days of absence, sad and dreary,

  Clothed in sorrow’s dark array,

  Days of absence, I am weary;

  She I love is far away.

  —JEAN-JACQUES ROUSSEAU

  CHAPTER 21

  Josh

  Eighteen Years Ago

  Josh closed his pocketknife, put it back in its small leather pouch, and returned it to his front pocket, smiling at Aubrey the entire time. Small curlings of bark and pale tree flesh clung to his forearm.

  “For you,” he said, flushing his hand toward the lovers’ oak, bursting with a nearly indefinable combination of lust, love, and pride.

  The small furrow appeared between her sun-bleached blond eyebrows.

  “ ‘JDH plus AMT equals TLA.’ Josh, what does that mean?”

  Aubrey and Josh were at the huge old oak tree in Dragon Park, their tree, the place they met when Josh could get out from under Daisy’s ever-watchful eye. It was easier when school was out—Josh could talk Daisy into letting him do things alone, go to the library, go for a walk. Anything to get out of the house, away from his bitchy, disapproving mother, and closer to Aubrey.

  But when school was in, he had to cut class, and if his mom knew he’d skipped out to go meet Aubrey, she’d kill him. But a man had to do what a man had to do. That was Tom’s favorite quote. Tom, his stepfather, the man who’d adopted Josh, who loved him, who didn’t mind if Josh wanted to go meet up with the little Trenton girl. Tom, who, when Josh was twelve and Aubrey ten, sat him down and explained things—the “facts of life,” he called them.

  Tom was a good man. Josh liked him a lot. He knew he wasn’t his real father, though Daisy tried to pass that off. Josh remembered more than his mother would have liked about his biological father. Daisy didn’t like to talk about Ed Hardsten. She’d divorced him when Josh was four. He remembered that night clearly. She’d practically set the house on fire burning all the pictures. A neighbor smelled smoke and called 9-1-1, and the fire department came and put out the small bonfire she’d set in the backyard, and a fireman took Daisy in the house. After what seemed like forever, she came back outside, calmer, controlled, and gathered Josh in her arms.

  “Mommy, what’s wrong? Where’s Daddy?”

  “Daddy’s gone, Josh. Daddy’s gone away and won’t ever come back. He’s gone to . . . to heaven.”

  He was only four; he couldn’t know his mother was lying to him. Ed Hardsten didn’t go to heaven. He went to jail. He was corrupt. He worked with bad men, men who didn’t care about sad mommies or scared little boys. He stole from people, and cheated, and lied. There were rumors that he’d killed two men, never proven, and bedded a floozy. Josh learned the term later, floozy. It reminded him of voluminous curtains blowing in the wind, and forever more in his mind he pictured his father standing with an ethereal lace angel dressed in striped white-on-white linen by his side.

  “Josh?”

  He came back down to earth.

  “Sorry, Aubs. It means ‘Joshua David Hamilton plus Aubrey Marie Trenton equals True Love Always.’ See?” He traced the lines he’d just cut into the tree’s bark with his finger. “It means you and I are tied together, forever.”

  “Oh.” Aubrey stared at the letters, eyes wide, and looked back to Josh. “Forever? Even if you go away?”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Aubrey.” He wanted to hug her, to reassure her. Only mothers and fathers went away. Kids didn’t. But that was a concept that might be lost on her. In a burst of bravado, he spilled out a whopper. “You know, Tom’s not my real dad. Mine . . . died when I was four.”

  He’d figured out his mother lied to him a couple of years earlier when he caught sight of a letter in her top drawer, signed by a man named Ed Hardsten. A letter that demanded Daisy allow him to see his son. Dead men can’t write letters.

  You’re dead . . . to me.

  “Really?” Aubrey asked.

  He could see the intrigue in her eyes. It took a lot to impress her, and he was pleased with himself, and embellished a bit.

  “Really. My mom doesn’t let me talk about it. I think he broke her heart.” He said this with gravitas, a knowing statement, and Aubrey nodded. Heartbreak was something she understood completely.

  “Thank you for telling me.” Serious Aubrey, with her curls sticking out from the undersides of a too-big raggedy baseball cap, was starting to look older than her years. That made Josh sad, though he couldn’t really explain it. The day had gotten entirely too serious, as a matter of fact. They needed to break this mood. He didn’t get to spend enough time with her as it was; he didn’t want to waste it being unhappy. Time to move along.

  “What do you want to do today?” he asked, smiling, cheerful.

  “How much time do we have?”

  “All day. I might get grounded tonight, but I don’t care. It’s worth it.” He said it with reckless abandon. He’d fashioned notes excusing both of them from school for doctor’s appointments. If the office called and checked, he would be in huge trouble. If they didn’t, well, what was the harm? Besides, a day out of school in the park with his best friend was worth whatever punishment he’d get.

  “I don’t know. Movies?” They started walking again, along the path, and Josh caught Aubrey glance back at the tree with a small, satisfied smile on her face.

  His heart swelled with pride. He’d entertained her and made her smile. She was such a serious girl, so silent and quiet. That’s what attracted him to her in the first place: she was so quiet. Like a mountain, or a tree, something that needs to be watched over, sat by, explored without touching.

  “Movies would be good. We could go see the new Tarantino.”

  “That’s rated R. We can’t get in without an adult. What about the one with the bugs who talk? That looked funny.”

  “That’s a kids’ movie.”

  Her face fell. He forgot sometimes that he was her elder, and some of the things that might appeal to her seemed childish to him. “Maybe we could just walk around and talk. I have some money, we could go to McDonald’s. Or the Soda Shop on Elliston Place.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh, can we? I’d love a float. I haven’t had ice cream forever. Sandy doesn’t have money for extras like that.”

  He couldn’t imagine a world without money for ice cream, but he bit his tongue. It was decided. He’d buy her a treat.

  “Sure. Stick with me, kid. I’ll show you the world.” He stuck out his arm, and Aubrey hesitated for a moment, then put hers tentatively through his. Wow, it worked. He’d
seen the move in a movie once. He was going to have to try some more things like that.

  The Soda Shop was quiet. They got a booth in the back, ordered root beer floats. The waitress eyed them suspiciously. It was clear they were cutting school, two kids in their khakis-and-white-polo-shirt school uniforms at a soda shop at 11:30 in the morning—Josh’s a real-life Polo from Ralph Lauren that Daisy bought at Hecht’s in Green Hills Mall, Aubrey’s a knock-off on sale from Kmart—but when Josh put the money on the table she shrugged and went ahead with their order. They slurped down the floats. Josh ordered some cheese fries, too.

  Aubrey ate and drank with gusto, like the starving little feral creature she was.

  Josh had fed a wild cat once. It would never let him get close, just watched from the bushes, eyes glowing, soft grumbling meows coming from its little chest. It wouldn’t come out and eat until Josh went inside and the cat felt safe. Then it scrambled from the brush and gobbled down the food and retreated into the bushes to await the next encounter. Josh fed it for weeks. One day, it didn’t show, and he was sad. He’d named it Lucky, and felt like the cat belonged to him.

  Aubrey reminded him of Lucky. She had that same look in her eye, like she’d bolt at the first loud noise or approaching footfall. That’s why he was always so careful to be gentle around her, not to startle her.

  “You kids want to play a game?” A man was standing by their table, watching them with interest.

  Aubrey jumped, and Josh put his hand across the table onto her arm to calm her. His mom did that to him sometimes, and it worked.

  “No,” he told the man. He knew they weren’t supposed to talk to strangers—that was a rule he didn’t want to break today. He knew all about Stranger Danger. He’d been through all sorts of lectures, especially when he went on his first overnight camping trip with the Scouts. Tom had explained, in no uncertain way, what could happen should Josh allow a stranger, especially a strange man, near him. Strangers snatched kids and did bad things to them. A waitress in their local soda shop was one thing, but a strange man who approached them? No way, José.

  The man wasn’t deterred. “Really. Just a quick game. If I can guess your names, you come for a ride with me.”

  Josh stared at Aubrey, whose eyes were as big as saucers. She stepped on his foot under the table, her lips thin and tight. She shook her head. Josh agreed: this guy was creepy. Shit. They should have gone to see the movie about the talking bugs after all.

  “We aren’t going anywhere with you.” Josh’s voice was full of bravado he wasn’t feeling. His voice cracked, too—he’d just started to inhabit a lower register, beginning his path to manhood, and here he was sounding like a little boy again, not a strapping lad of thirteen.

  “Oh, come on, Josh. Don’t you want to take a ride with your pops? You and little Aubrey? I can give you a lift home. I bet your mom would be PO’d to find out you’re not in school.”

  He knew their names. This was really, really bad. And his was Pops? What did that . . . Oh, Pops. Pop. Like Dad. He had one friend at school who called his dad Pop. It seemed weird, like soda pop. Who calls their dad soda pop?

  “You know Josh’s mom?” Aubrey asked. Aubrey was fascinated by Daisy. She knew the woman didn’t like her, and just assumed it was because Aubrey was a lost child, without parents, without a real home. Dirty. People were supposed to be sympathetic to lost children. Not Daisy.

  The man grinned. “Do I know Josh’s mom? Of course. Scootch.” He used his arm to push Aubrey deeper into the booth and sat with them. Josh’s heart was beating out of his chest, and it only got worse when the man spoke again.

  “I’m Ed Hardsten, Josh. I’m your dad. Don’t you recognize me, son?”

  Aubrey looked confusedly between Josh and Hardsten. “You said your dad was dead.”

  Josh found his voice at last. “My dad is dead. You aren’t my dad.” His shoulders squared. “And I’m going to tell the waitress if you don’t leave right now.”

  Hardsten just laughed. “Oh, son. Daisy told you I died? That bitch. Don’t believe me? Here.”

  He tossed a photograph down on the table. Josh crooked his head to look at it. He picked it up, mouth open. It was a picture of Ed Hardsten and his mom. His mom held a boy in her arms. Josh recognized a young picture of himself.

  This wasn’t good. Not only had he been caught in a lie, this man scared him. Maybe his plan was to kidnap them. Kidnap them, cross state lines, then kill them and bury their bodies in a shallow grave.

  He kicked Aubrey under the table to get her attention. Tried to send her a message with his eyes.

  When I say go, run!

  “You bothering these kids?” The waitress—her plastic name tag read Cherry—stood at the end of their table with one hand on her hip. She had a coffeepot in the other and looked about ready to clock the stranger.

  “I’m not bothering them. He’s my son.”

  “Oh. That so?”

  Josh met the waitress’s eyes. His must have been filled with shock and fear because her brows came together and she stepped a little closer to him.

  “You supposed to be seeing this one like this? His mama know you’re here with him? You got unsupervised visitation?”

  Hardsten sat back, relaxed his arm on the top of the booth. “Now, no need for that. You know how custody goes. I just haven’t seen my boy in a while. I’ll shove off here in a minute. Okay?”

  “I’ve got my eye on you, mister. You try to leave with either of these kids, I’m calling the cops.”

  “No need, ma’am. No need. Just wanted to say hi.”

  He stood and took the picture back from Josh’s grasp, ruffled the boy’s hair. “I’ll be on my way. Josh, I’m sorry your mom told you lies about me. But now that I’m out, I hope you and I can talk again.”

  With that, the man winked at the waitress and sauntered away.

  CHAPTER 22

  Aubrey

  Eighteen Years Ago

  Aubrey was confused. First Josh said his father was dead, and she’d felt a kinship with him, something that they could share. Then this man showed up, trouble on a stick, as Sandy would say, all muscles and rolled sleeves and bits of tattooed ink running up his arm, and Josh freaked. Totally, completely freaked.

  The minute the man left, Josh grabbed Aubrey by the hand and hauled her from the booth. “We gotta go.”

  “Where?”

  “To my house.” They were out of the Soda Shop now, into the beautiful day, Josh dragging her so fast that they were jogging up the street toward Dragon Park. The sun seemed sinister now, not cheery, and Aubrey hated the bad feeling that flooded her chest.

  She dug in her heels and made him stop.

  “Aubrey, let go. We need to go home.”

  “Josh, I can’t go to your house. Your mother, she doesn’t like me.”

  He swallowed hard, and Aubrey saw tears in his eyes. “I can’t do this alone, Aubrey. Please, please come with me.”

  “Shouldn’t we wait until later? When school’s out? She’s going to be furious with you for cutting. Especially once you tell her what happened.”

  She didn’t need to say the rest: Especially because you were with me.

  That drew him up short. “You may have a point.”

  “It’s noon now.” Aubrey made a show of looking at her watch, a digital piece of crap Sandy had picked up at Sears. At least it worked, unlike many of the things Sandy brought home. “School’s out in two hours. Do you think you can wait?”

  He sat down hard in the grass. She sat next to him, wanting to reach over and touch him but not knowing if that was allowed. It was amazing to her that this boy liked her. He liked to spend time with her. He talked to her like she was his equal. He never called her bitch, like Tyler did. He called her by her real name, Aubrey, and once, last month, honey, which had made her chest expand and tears come to
her eyes.

  “What about the library? Aren’t you allowed to use it because of your dad? I mean, Tom.”

  “Why do you want to go to the library?”

  “We could go look him up. Find out where he’s been.”

  “Ed Hardsten? My . . .” He paused, brows knitting, as if he couldn’t find a way to put the proper name together with the one that should symbolize love and caring and acceptance and security. He finally managed it, a whisper so soft she barely heard him because he was staring at the ground between his legs and couldn’t meet her eye. “My father.”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you mean, look him up and see where he’s been?”

  Aubrey explained the lingo she’d heard from Hardsten. “He said ‘now that I’m out.’ In our house, that means he just got out of jail.”

  “Jail.” Josh’s voice was flat. She understood. It was someplace he’d never go, or even know that much about. Jail was for bad people who did bad things. Josh was shining-light good. For the first time in their relationship, Aubrey was the one with the experience, with the knowledge, with the ability to help. It made her proud, and her chest puffed out a bit.

  “The library will have answers. And it will take some time.” She braved it then, reached for his hand. “If he’s really your dad, then he’s alive. And that’s a good thing, right?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “So the library?”

  “Okay.”

  They got up and crossed Blakemore, walked onto the Vanderbilt campus. Tom was a professor at Vandy, biology, so Josh had access to Vanderbilt’s library anytime he wanted, but they’d have to be discreet.

  Josh was quiet, vibrating with emotion. Who could blame him? He’d just had the worst and best news of his life dropped on him without warning. He was embarrassed, too. He shouldn’t have lied. And he really didn’t want to get reported for cutting.

  “You were four when he died . . . went away?” Aubrey asked.

  Josh nodded.

  “Okay. Let me talk.”