Two of Hearts

by Christina Lee

  I grasped her chin and forced her gaze to mine. “What the fuck do you mean?”

  Her eyes became shiny and round as tears filled her gaze. Her entire countenance transformed before my eyes. This was not the strong, unflappable woman I had always known. This was a vulnerable and troubled girl crumbling to pieces. “I don’t want to give them any more ammunition to use against us.”

  “How—”

  “You saw their signs. My mother is Dutch and I’m only half Indian,” she said, her fingers placing pressure on my chest. “If I’m dating someone who isn’t Indian, either? Who knows how they’d twist that information?”

  I gripped her fingers against my skin. “Isn’t that letting them win?”

  “It’s being smart,” she said, that veil that I hadn’t seen in days going up. “Besides, you coming back, the two of us always behind closed doors—it gives the wrong impression.”

  I felt my pulse rapidly firing in my veins so I stepped back before I said some things I’d regret. “Fine. I’ll stay away.”

  “I only meant around here,” she said, leaning toward me, as if this was a precarious dance. I pull away and she follows. It was becoming exhausting.

  “You can’t have it both ways.” Maybe it was best to back off and keep a professional head. This was Dakota shutting down, shutting me out. And I couldn’t deal with it again.

  Desperation pulsed in her eyes. “Please. Try to understand the pressure I’m under.”

  “I absolutely do understand. Why do you think I’m here, why do you think I’m doing everything I can to help?” I scrubbed my hands over my face and growled.

  “Shane—”

  “You swore to me,” I said, the urge to pound my fist into the wall so strong, I backed away even further. “You swore you wouldn’t desert me.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing,” she said, her eyes wild and filling with tears. “I’m just asking you—begging you—for compassion.”

  “You can’t reconcile a relationship and then only do it half-ass,” I said. “Not with me. Not again.”

  “Is that what this is? A relationship? Because we haven’t actually talked it all the way through,” she said, throwing up her hands.

  “Of course it is,” I said. “Maybe we don’t have all the logistics figured out. But what the hell, Dee? Why else would I—”

  I shoved my fingers through my hair in frustration.

  “God, Shane. Don’t you get how jumbled my brain and my emotions are right now?”

  “I get it, Dee. And for the record, I’m affected by all of this too—maybe not on the same level as you but close enough. And I’m trying so hard . . . so hard to . . . just fuck it, never mind.”

  She stood staring at me, her hands in tight fists at her sides. I was across the room and I wasn’t sure if we could close this gap. Not anymore. Suddenly it seemed impossible.

  “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Too fast, too soon,” I said, twisting the knob beside me. “Or maybe we were just too late.”

  Chapter Twenty

  SHANE

  “Great dinner, Mom.” I dug into her mashed potatoes and gravy. It was one of the only nights since I’d been back home that I’d had dinner with both of my parents. “As usual.”

  “Thanks, sweetie,” she said with a smile.

  I was being unusually quiet and I could tell my parents knew something was up. Since I had left Dakota’s office that morning, I felt completely off. Guilty about what I’d said to her but also angry and bummed out. I might’ve jumped the gun, and I planned on going over there tonight to hash it out. I didn’t want to kick someone when they were down, and Dakota was definitely down. I’d reached for my phone several times in the last few hours, but I wanted to see her eyes when I said what I needed to say.

  I knew my father wouldn’t ask me anything about my mood, and to avoid my mother’s probing gaze, I fired off questions about their jobs. My dad was working on a huge narcotics case. Recently, it seemed like he and I had more in common, since many of my fugitives had been from drug cartels.

  “They think Yeltsin might’ve fled back to Russia,” Dad said. “So we’ll probably bring in the feds.”

  “Smart move,” I said. I knew the Marshals whom his department had worked with in the past, and they were good men.

  I spooned in a mouthful of meatloaf and it brought me right back to childhood.

  Dad was usually gone, working on a case, and Mom would be busy with her job as well. She’d make dinner for just the two of us and would show up at my football or basketball games. Dad would come, too, but only if he could get away.

  Back then, it was like I had two homes—the other being with the Nakos family. There was always noise and food, and a sense of tradition and belonging at their house.

  A similar camaraderie was felt within the police squad, too. There were always barbecues and benefit events for the force. The kids would play cops and robbers in the backyards, and all the boys, it seemed, aspired to be like their dads.

  “I made an apple pie,” Mom said. “Your dad’s favorite.”

  Mom ran her hand along Dad’s shoulder, and he patted her hand and grinned.

  We retreated to the living room as I continued to almost obsessively check the time. I planned on leaving soon to meet up with Alex before heading over to Dakota’s. I was stirring with nervous energy, because I needed to see her and apologize.

  There was a knock at the door and when Mom answered it, I heard an all too familiar voice that made my pulse pound loudly in my ears. Dakota had showed up at my parents’ house. Color me stunned.

  I quickly rose to scan the street from the front window in case she’d been followed. She must’ve jumped in her car after Grayson drove her home to head over here. She hadn’t even texted me to give me the heads-up. Maybe she didn’t think I’d respond. We had practically ignored each other all day long.

  “All clear?” my father asked, as he stood near the kitchen doorway. Nothing seemed suspicious to me on the street, so I nodded.

  My mother invited her in and then gave her a long hug. “What a nice surprise, dear. We were just about to have some dessert. Would you like to join us?”

  Dakota threw me an awkward sidelong glance as if awaiting my approval. She looked as poised and gorgeous as ever in her gray skirt and light blue blouse.

  “I think we’d both like a slice of pie, Mom.”

  Mom looked between the two of us, obviously realizing that something was up, before quickly exiting to the kitchen. Though I could barely tear my gaze away from Dakota, I noticed how Mom tried to get my dad’s attention so we could have a moment to ourselves, but he didn’t get the hint.

  Dakota walked across the room to give my dad a hug.

  “Nice to see you, Dakota,” he said.

  “You, too.”

  “The guys at the station were talking about the picketers at the casino. I’m sorry you’ve had more trouble.”

  “Thanks.” To quickly change the subject, she glanced at the TV. “So what are you watching?”

  My father told her it was some documentary on the History Channel. He pushed back his La-Z-Boy chair and got himself nice and comfy as she took a seat on the couch opposite him, almost like old times when Kai and Dakota would visit.

  I sat down next to her, leaving some space, letting my hand rest close to hers on the couch. I could feel the electricity pulsing between our skin as if we were on a first date.

  Her gaze darted around the room to the curio cabinet displaying the figurines that Mom liked to collect and then to the side table with our family photos.

  “Everything looks the same as it did the last time I was here,” she whispered.

  I nodded, staring into her eyes as we had our own silent conversation. My pinky finger reached over and latched onto hers. She breathed out in relief. As if she’d taken the chance coming here, knowing I might still be angry or resistant, but she did it anyway. It meant the world to me.

  Mom entere
d the room with plates of pie and the smell made me feel nostalgic, too. Mom and Dakota caught up while they ate, just like they used to do in high school. Even though Dakota and I had yet to say one word to each other about the status of our relationship, it was almost like we needed this. Needed a time to be normal, since the last month of Dakota’s life, and mine for that matter, had spun out of control.

  When we were finished, Dakota helped Mom carry the plates to the kitchen.

  “We kept Shane’s room exactly the same,” Mom said to Dakota, and my eyebrows arched.

  “I actually think I’ll show her, Mom.” As I reached for her hand, Dakota tried to keep her lips in a straight line. My father just shook his head.

  Dakota headed to the stairs first and when I looked back at my mother, she had a sheepish grin plastered to her face.

  As soon as we got to my room, I shut the door and backed Dakota to my bed, which still had the same denim-colored comforter from college. Her knees hit the mattress and she had no choice but to sink down. I knelt in front of her and grabbed her face. “Dakota, I—”

  “Wait, Shane,” she said, her voice insistent.

  I grew silent as she slid her hands over my forearms and gripped tight.

  “I wasn’t trying to push you out of my life,” she said. “I want to be with you.”

  “You just want to remain professional and neutral at work, is that it?” I asked, having had time to think our conversation through. She nodded, her eyes wide and worried.

  “I know I hurt your feelings and I’m sorry,” she said. “I just didn’t say it the right way.”

  “I get it and I’ll follow your lead while this mess is going on,” I said, resting my forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I didn’t put myself in your shoes.”

  “So we’re okay?’ she whispered.

  “I can’t guarantee that I won’t get upset about it again, especially if this is still an issue once the dissention dies down,” I said. “But yeah, I’m cool with it.”

  For now. As long as I know she’s mine.

  She closed her eyes in relief and I nuzzled my head in her neck. “Missed you, baby.”

  “Me, too.” Her gaze slid to the wall beyond me where a poster from college still hung. “Your mom was right. It feels like a time warp in here.”

  “Right?” I said, looking at the NFL running back taped to my wall. Then my gaze swung back to her. “So you gonna kiss me or what?”

  Her eyes widened. “Your parents are right downstairs.”

  I laughed. “You think they don’t know that we’re going to make out up here?”

  She looked so innocent right then that it reminded me of our younger years, our infatuation with each other, and how we tried sneaking in moments together.

  “I’ll ask again. You gonna kiss me or—”

  Her mouth came down on mine and her kiss was delicate and firm at the same time, just like her. She draped her fingers around my shoulders and I grasped the back of her neck to tug her nearer. As her tongue slid over mine all I could think was that nothing felt this good.

  Nothing else ever felt this good. This perfect. This right.

  We made out for a long time, making sure not to let our hands stray anywhere else, lest we end up all hot and bothered in my childhood bed.

  When we finally came up for air, I said, “Want to sit on the back deck for a while?”

  “I’d like that.”

  We walked down hand in hand. My mother was on a phone call and my dad was wrapped up in his show, so we skirted right by them. I grabbed a couple of beers from the refrigerator and a soft afghan. We sank into the wooden swing that had been a fixture on our back deck forever.

  As we sipped on our drinks, she laid her head on my shoulder and I wondered just how many of these kinds of nights you actual got in your lifetime. The kind filled with sweetness and contentment and nostalgia. And overwhelming peace.

  “God, remember all the field parties you used to have in high school?” she asked, looking past our giant maple tree to the back meadow, where cars would pull up and kids would sit on bumpers and blast their music.

  “Oh yeah,” I said, laughing. “How could I forget?”

  “You think your dad knew about them?”

  “Had to have, right?” I said. “Still never said a word about them, though.”

  The entire school knew that my dad was a detective, so when they showed up on a weekend night, they mostly kept themselves in check. Besides, beyond our fenced-in property, the meadow was public domain and kids knew not to trash our house or leave any evidence behind on our back lawn.

  “Remember that one night that Kai got his car stuck in the mud and my dad had to—”

  She stopped abruptly, a shadow crossing over her feature and then without warning, she burst into tears.

  “Angel,” I whispered, pulling her against my chest. Her sobs grew louder, so she muffled them against my shirt. I rubbed her shoulder and her back while my stomach bunched into a tight ball.

  “It’s just that he used to be my go-to guy, you know?” she said between sniffles. “He always knew the right thing to do.”

  Coiling her thick ebony hair around my fingers, I simply listened.

  “I know he was my dad, but he was also like a best friend, someone I admired so much.”

  “I think he admired you, too,” I said into her neck and she whimpered.

  If she hadn’t had a good cry about her father yet, which I suspected, knowing how stoic and strong she could be, then she needed to finally let it loose.

  “Get it all out, baby.” I kissed the top of her head and pulled her onto my lap, wrapping her up tight beneath the blanket. “I know how much you miss him. I miss him, too.”

  She melted against my chest, her arms draping around my neck, and right then I knew that I was completely gone for this woman. My emotions were intense and raw and so completely overpowering, it was a wonder that I could even hold myself in check. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before in my entire life.

  “It feels like a hole in our family that can’t be filled,” she whispered in broken pants. “Not by anybody.”

  I rocked her and quietly listened to her breaths even out, as she fell asleep in my arms. I adjusted the blanket over her shoulders and watched as strands of hazy clouds curled over the full moon until well beyond midnight.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  DAKOTA

  Walking from my office, I headed to the employee elevator imagining my father riding up to see Mom alongside me. Sometimes, he’d bring her lunch. Other times, just one of their secret smiles. I didn’t always appreciate it then, but now I missed the comfort of always knowing my parents were a solid foundation to land upon.

  The elevator stopped at the third floor. Mom was always more comfortable up here in the finance department, even though she hung in my father’s office a lot, just to be near him. After he passed, I told her to take Daddy’s office but she refused, suggesting it was better suited for me. And in the end, I agreed.

  I’d worked from his office most in the last year of my father’s life. The two of us had become almost seamless out on the floor. Did he know this might happen? He couldn’t have predicted that he’d die before his wife, even though he left the casino in her name. He’d been preparing me all this time to take over his legacy. Me, not his son, Kai—who wanted nothing to do with any of this.

  But I didn’t resent Kai. Music was in his blood. Instead, I was relieved that he hadn’t been standing in my way. Because this is what I knew I was always meant to do. This felt right.

  What didn’t feel right was what was happening outside—the protesters. When Grayson rounded the corner that first day, I gripped my mother’s arm as she held in a gasp. Some of our former employees were out there, people from our community. People I thought we had good relationships with. Grayson had already briefed us on the ride in, but seeing it up close and personal had been another thing altogether.

  And then what was occu
rring inside this place. Some employees and friends had trouble making eye contact with me. They stood congregating, but then dispersed whenever I approached them. It was like I was a stranger in my own casino. And that was no way to conduct business or come to work every day.

  I could not begin to fathom what my mother was going through. She had just lost her husband and a handful of people were attempting to oust her from this casino. She was always the strong silent partner to my father, and she liked it that way. But now—now we no longer could remain silent.

  “Mom, we need to talk,” I said, standing outside her office door.

  She looked up at me, worry etched on her brow. “The protesters?”

  I was suddenly glad that Shane had insisted on adding extra security, even though I was still concerned what the staff might think. I didn’t want to appear to be above them by having Grayson drive us in every day. Regardless, there still seemed to be some kind of divide, even though Mom was coming down to the floor several times a day like Shane had suggested. There continued to be that underlying tension throughout the casino that had never existed before.

  “That, yes,” I said. “But also about something else, too.”

  She nodded as I shut the door, handing her the cappuccino I’d brought. She’d taken a liking to coffee in the last few years.

  “Some days, darling . . .” She sighed and then sipped from her cup. “I don’t know.”

  “Mom,” I said, gently. Sometimes all it takes is a simple word to let someone know you’re there for them.

  “Some days I just wonder if I should give this up,” she said, red crawling across her cheeks. She was barely looking at me. “Sell it, close it, or just sign it over to you.”

  My heart strained for her. I’d love to run this casino someday, but I couldn’t imagine doing it without my mom beside me. It was hard enough without my father.

  In that moment I knew she needed to let it all out so that the two of us could rally. Otherwise, we’d get swallowed up in this tidal wave rolling in on us, zapping our morale, our confidence, and even our hope. I couldn’t stand by and watch it happen any longer.