by Tricia Mills
When I started to stand, Jesse jumped to his feet and extended his hand to help me up. I wavered for a moment before placing mine in his. It was just a helpful gesture, I told myself.
He pulled me to my feet, but he didn’t let go once I was standing before him, closer than I expected. His lips parted. “Winter.”
I leaned forward before something clicked in my brain—common sense—and I stepped backward.
I made myself smile, but I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Thanks again. I’ll see you at school.”
I wanted to say more, to thank him for everything: for listening, for sharing his own story, and even for the feelings he hadn’t spoken, because even though they scared me, they also helped make me feel alive. I hoped Spencer would forgive me for my weakness.
Jesse didn’t follow me as I stepped back out into the chilly night. I took a few seconds to breathe deeply of the crisp air before heading for my empty house.
The almost kiss was still zipping through my brain when I rounded the fence. I could barely distinguish someone sitting on the top of my front steps. I froze and sucked in a breath, considering retreat. But then the figure looked my way, and I realized it was Lindsay. What was she doing here this late? Oregano’s had closed an hour before.
Lindsay startled me by jumping up and running toward me. When she wrapped me in her arms, I heard her sniffles.
“I thought something had happened to you,” she said.
“No, I’m fine. Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming over.”
Lindsay’s continued crying worried me because, despite everything she’d been through, Linds didn’t often cry. She typically got mad and threw things or cursed. I pulled back and looked at her face, then sucked in another breath. Jesse’s house shed just enough illumination to reveal the bruise marring her left cheek.
“I love it, Linds,” I said as I pulled the red-and-white knit scarf from the package.
“You better. It took me six months to make the thing.”
I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you.”
“Sorry, I didn’t knit you a sweater,” Spencer said.
I laughed. “Good. I’d hate to see what that would look like.”
He handed me a package. When I ripped away the wrapping and opened the box inside, I found a Quote-a-Day calendar and a certificate from the International Star Registry. I read the text on the certificate and felt myself tearing up. I met Spencer’s eyes and, unbelievably, fell more in love with him in that instant.
“You named a star after me?”
“It seemed appropriate.”
CHAPTER 21
“Oh my God, Linds,” I said as I turned her more fully toward the light and examined the damage. “Did Caleb do this to you?”
She pulled away. “No!” She sounded horrified that I’d think so. “It was Dad.”
The fact that she hadn’t called him “the sperm donor” told me how upset she really was. “I thought he left.”
“He came back, obviously.” She shivered, so I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and guided her inside the warmth of my house.
“Was he drunk?” Even so, Lindsay had said he’d always focused his rage on her mom, not her or her brothers.
“When is he not drunk?”
I steered her to the kitchen, where I retrieved a bag of frozen corn, wrapping it in a thin dish towel and pressing it gently to her face.
“What happened?”
“He came back stinking pissed, ran the truck right over Seth’s bike, then had the nerve to stomp in yelling about how it’d been in his way.” She slammed the side of her fist against the top of the kitchen table. “The bike was a good ten feet off the driveway. Of course, he was too far gone to realize that he’d missed the driveway entirely.”
She let out a shaky breath that caught on an angry sob she managed to wrangle into submission.
“I’d had it, Winter.” She choked on another sob before shaking it off, too. “I told him exactly what a pathetic loser I thought he was and that we’d all be better off if someone tossed him in the middle of the Bering Sea.”
My own anger fired. “And he hit you?”
“Yep. I’m following in Mom’s footsteps. What a proud moment.”
I wrapped my hands around her fist, shook it until she looked at me. “You’re not like her, Linds. You stood up to him, and then you left.”
A tear escaped her eye and ran down the cheek that hadn’t been damaged by her dad’s ham of a hand. I wiped it away, then pulled her into my arms. “I know you don’t like to show weakness, but crying isn’t weakness. Sometimes it’s the healthiest thing you can do.”
My words must have picked away the final piece of mortar holding her dam together. It broke, and all her hurt and anger and disillusionment came pouring out onto my shoulder. I held her and let her cry until she couldn’t anymore.
When I pulled back so she could wipe her nose, I ran my hand over her hair. “Where’s Seth?”
“Spending the night at Heath Corgin’s, thank God.”
I waited until her eyes met mine. “We need to call the police. This can’t happen again.”
A shadow passed over her eyes, and I knew she was dreading the additional embarrassment this would cause her when word got out. Still, she nodded bravely.
I made the call to the police department, and within five minutes, Chief Elachik, a round-chested Yupik man roughly the size of a fishing trawler, showed up. Chief’s sheer size was enough to keep most of Tundra on the right side of the law. I watched his dark complexion redden as Lindsay related the entire story to him.
“I’m sure he’s long gone by now,” Lindsay said, sounding half defeated and half relieved.
Chief patted her knee. “Don’t you worry about that. I’m pretty good at finding folks don’t want to be found.”
And I’d hate to be Lindsay’s dad when he did. Chief looked like he might revert to drawing and quartering as a suitable punishment.
When I let Chief Elachik out the door, Jesse had been standing outside, about to knock.
“Are you okay? ” Jesse asked as he looked back at me, worry etching every line of his face. It tugged at what remained of my heart.
“Yes, fine.”
“Why was the chief here?”
Aware of Lindsay in the room behind me, I replied in a low voice. “I can’t really say.”
Jesse’s brows bunched. “You’re sure you’re okay? Do you need anything?” He glanced inside, but I wasn’t sure if the angle would reveal Lindsay’s presence.
“I’m fine, really. Go on back. It’s nearly eleven o’clock.”
He glanced behind me again. “Call if you need anything.”
I nodded and shut the door quickly when he turned before he decided to ask something else.
Of course, then I had to face the questions written on Lindsay’s face. “Does that happen often?”
I pushed away from the door. “No. But then Chief isn’t at my house in the middle of the night too often.”
“He sounded really concerned.”
“Linds, now isn’t the time to discuss this.”
“Of course it is. I’m sick to death of talking about this.” She pointed at her blooming bruise. “My a-hole of a father doesn’t deserve any more of my time. I’d much rather talk about why Jesse Kerr was at your door in the middle of the night.”
“I saw him and his mom earlier. They know Mom and Dad aren’t home.”
“Yet it was Jesse, not his parents, who came over to check on you.”
I knew she was trying to take her mind off her own problems by focusing on me and this latest development. Still, it made me squirm as I sat in the cushy living room chair. I pulled a plush throw over my legs, preparing for the inevitable conversation.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said, the words feeling like a lie on my tongue. “Not yet anyway.”
Lindsay’s eyes widened, like I’d just told her I was part of the Witn
ess Protection Program. “I knew there was something there.”
I shook my head. “I just hung out with him some tonight. Talked.” I picked at a torn cuticle, absurdly nervous at the idea of telling Lindsay everything. “He was in Oregano’s earlier when I was upset because Spencer’s mom came in. He invited me over. I didn’t think I’d go at first, but . . .” I looked at the stairs that led to my bedroom. “I couldn’t face an empty house. So I caved and went over there.”
“What did you two do?”
“Just ate some brownies and talked about Spencer, Patrice, stuff.” I looked at her, wishing we’d found another topic to get her mind off her craptacular home life.
“What are you not telling me?”
Still, I hesitated. “I think he almost kissed me.” I wrung my hands. “I’m getting all these signals from him that don’t make any sense. Even thinking that Jesse could like me is laughable.”
“Why?” Linds sounded genuinely confused.
“Because we’re nothing alike.” Which wasn’t exactly true, was it?
“Do you like him?”
“I don’t know. I mean, he’s nicer than I gave him credit for.” She’d understand more if I told her about his mom, but that wasn’t my secret to tell. And some lonely part of me felt special that I was the only one in whom he’d confided.
“Winter, I know you’re still hurting over Spencer. Sometimes I still cry when I think about him, too. But maybe it’s time to take another step forward. If you like Jesse, consider acting on it while he’s still single. I’m surprised he still is, to be honest.”
I thought about what he’d told me about his mom’s abandonment, then the rumors I’d heard about Patrice’s secret guy. Maybe Jesse was a little gun-shy about starting another relationship, and I couldn’t blame him.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Just think about it.”
Lindsay’s question burrowed its way into my brain, and I didn’t know how to answer it. Did I like Jesse? Yes. Did I like like him? I thought I did, but I didn’t know whether to trust my feelings.
Neither of us could settle down enough to sleep, so I made us hot chocolate and we sank side by side onto the couch to watch Pride and Prejudice, the Keira Knightley- Matthew MacFadyen version. For a little while we set aside real-life questions, family problems, and boys and allowed ourselves to drool over Mr. Darcy. He made it so easy.
Lindsay snuggled farther under the blanket. “I can’t wait until you’re working on some movie like this, and I can utilize my best-friend privileges and get to hang out on the set.”
I didn’t respond, just kept my eyes focused on the dance scene. The costumes were beautiful, weren’t they?
“You still haven’t drawn, have you?” she asked, clasping my hand over the blanket. “Don’t keep your life on hold forever.”
When I didn’t respond, she turned her attention to the movie.
We’d fallen so far into the story that we both yelped when someone knocked on the front door. I glanced at the clock—it was now closing in on 12:30. The idea that it might be Lindsay’s dad entered my mind and chilled my blood.
I grabbed the cordless phone and gave it to Lindsay. “Stay out of sight. If you hear your dad’s voice, call Chief Elachik.”
“I doubt it’s him. That would take too much effort.”
“Just in case. Who else is going to show up after midnight? ”
“Maybe it’s Jesse again.” There was a note of teasing in her voice—remarkable, after what she’d been through tonight. But also very Lindsay.
I gave her a narrow-eyed “cut it out” look, then eased my way to the door. I held my breath as I peeked out the little window that was cut into the thick wood of the door. Caleb Moore stood on the porch, wearing a parka and looking as if he were freezing. Silly outsider—his blood hadn’t thickened enough yet to deal with Alaska’s temperatures.
I shot my attention back to Lindsay and whispered, “It’s Caleb.”
“What!” She leaped off the couch and poised to make a run for the back door. “Don’t open it.”
“I have to open it. If we don’t come to the door, he might think something’s wrong and call for help.” Though if he was turning blue on my front porch this late, chances were he’d snuck out.
“How did he know I was here? Oh God, what if he knows what happened?”
“He’s the mayor’s stepson, so he probably does. You knew this wouldn’t stay secret, but we’ll deal with it. And it’s just common sense that you’d come here if you didn’t feel safe at home.”
Lindsay hugged herself, making her look half her age.
When I unlocked the door, I heard her hurry down the hall and into the bathroom.
“Caleb, what are you doing here? ” I asked when I opened the door.
“Is Lindsay all right?”
“She’s fine. Go on home before you freeze to death.”
“I want to see her.”
“I don’t think—”
“Please.”
There was so much need and yearning in his voice—so much worry darkening his blue eyes—that I caved and opened the door. As he stepped inside, I heard Lindsay squeak down the hall, then the bathroom door shutting and locking.
“She doesn’t want you to see her like this,” I said low, hoping Linds wouldn’t hear me. “She’s embarrassed.”
“She doesn’t have to be embarrassed with me.”
I motioned toward the bathroom. “Tell her that.”
He took off his gloves and shoved them in his parka pockets as he headed down the hall. I wandered into the kitchen, nibbling on some Cheez-Its as I listened to Caleb try to convince Lindsay to come out of the bathroom.
“No,” she said. “I look wretched.”
“I doubt that, and anyway, it wouldn’t matter.”
“It does matter.” I heard the strangled sob in her voice and knew she’d hate herself later for allowing him to hear it. “You don’t understand what it’s like, how embarrassing it is.”
The silence hung so long that I wondered if he’d given up. If he did, would that hurt Lindsay, even though she’d told him to go away?
I peeked around the wall of the kitchen and saw Caleb still outside the door, his palm flattened against it.
“It doesn’t matter to me what kind of man your father is. I like you.”
“I like you, too. That’s why I don’t want you to see me like this.”
He sighed. “Lindsay, I know what it’s like, to be ashamed of a family member. My mom divorced my dad because he was having an affair with my fifth-grade teacher.”
God, was there anyone our age who didn’t have some tale of woe? Someone who hadn’t disappointed them in a scarring way?
The silence hung heavy in the hallway, and my heart ached for both Lindsay and Caleb. All the doubts I’d ever had about him had faded away. She was right. His caring and tenderness reminded me of Spencer and the way he’d treated me. My vision blurred, and I had to blink away the tears that the realization encouraged.
I watched as Lindsay cracked the door, then opened it wider and walked into Caleb’s arms. He held her close, rubbing his hand over her long, black hair and whispering reassurances. Unable to watch the tenderness, I went up to my room.
From the window, I stared at the moon shining on the snow atop the distant mountains, covering the spot where Spencer had lost his life. I placed my hand against the cold pane, as if his memory was tangible and I could feel its warmth. That wishful part of me imagined him hiking through those fierce mountains toward home.
I knew those imaginings were just prolonging my grief, but I couldn’t fully let them go. Still . . .
My gaze lowered and fixed on the Kerrs’ house. I wondered if Lindsay could be right—if Jesse could maybe turn into something more than just the boy next door.
“Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place.”
—Zora Neale Hurston, Quote-a-Day calendar
CHAPTER 22
“I don’t want to go. Everyone is going to know all the gory details already.” She massaged her forehead with the tips of her fingers as if she had a headache just thinking about it. “Sometimes this town nearly smothers me.”
I understood about the suffocation. The past two months, it’d felt as if everyone I saw was watching me to see if I’d crack. I imagined them taking bets down at the Blue Walrus and wondered what the odds were running.
There wasn’t an ounce of doubt that local tongues had been wagging since I’d placed the call to Chief Elachik last night, and the chatter about Dimitri’s latest transgression wasn’t going away anytime soon.
“You know, it won’t be any better tomorrow or the next day, so you might as well get it over with.”
“It might, if I wait until the bruise is gone.” She gently touched her cheek.
Anger on her behalf made me want to hunt down her dad myself and smack him hard with whatever was handy.
“No, the longer you stay away, the worse it’ll get. You know this.”
Lindsay flopped back on the couch. “I’m tired.”
“What time did Caleb leave?”
“Around three.”
“He braved sneaking out and nearly froze his Lower 48 ass to come see you. You can brave the gossip of people with nothing better to do.”
She groaned but dragged herself off the couch and toward the bathroom. By the time we both were ready to leave, we opened the door to find Caleb on the front steps, ready to be Lindsay’s buffer. And because he had his own truck, we got a warm ride to school instead of a chilly walk.
Flanked by both of us, Lindsay seemed to regain some of her self-confidence. When we reached Caleb’s locker, he gave her a kiss on her bruised cheek. I stuck close to Lindsay’s side as we made our way down the hall to our lockers. We acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary, even though I caught occasional glances and whispers. When we reached our lockers, it felt as if we’d successfully run a gauntlet.