She interrupted my musings. “I saw the way you and Duncan looked at each other when you said goodbye tonight. It was romantic, but it was scary, too.”
My gaze shot up to hers. “What do you mean?”
“I’m worried things are going to move too fast and you won’t be ready for it. I’m concerned for him, as well. There’s a lot at stake for both of you.”
“I won’t let it move too fast.” I’d made up my mind to have sex with him, but I wasn’t planning on doing it this very instant. I wouldn’t act impulsively, not if I could help it.
“I think I should talk to him, just to be sure he understands the gravity of the situation.”
Was she freaking kidding me? “I’m an adult, Carol. I can handle this. And he already knows how inexperienced I am.”
“That doesn’t change the dynamics that are involved.”
“You were encouraging me to date him. You were on my side. And now you’re backpedaling? That isn’t right. It isn’t fair.”
“I know. But I didn’t realize how quickly your feelings for each other were going to develop. I thought there was going to be more time to let it unfold and figure things out.”
“We’re only going on our first date. We’re not running off and eloping.”
“I’d feel better if I had a chance to talk to him and tell him more about…” She hesitated, then added, “Abby.”
I started, confused by the direction this was going. What did my sister have to do with me dating Duncan? Had Abby secretly told Carol about the warrior? No, that didn’t seem possible. Abby didn’t trust our aunt enough to confide in her.
Then what was Carol’s agenda? Was she feeling guilty for being ashamed of Abby? Was this her way of seeking absolution?
She said, “I want your permission, Vanessa. I want you to say it’s all right for me to talk to him.”
“Why don’t you talk to me about it instead?”
“I am talking to you. That’s what I’m doing right now, expressing my concern about how your attachment to Abby could affect your relationship with Duncan.”
“He understands that Abby is ill and that she needs me.”
“But he isn’t aware of how strong her hold on you really is.”
Her hold on me? I didn’t like the sound of that. “I’m there for Abby because I choose to be,” I said, making sure she knew where I stood. It was true that I coddled my sister, but I was also the one who’d convinced her to check herself into The Manor.
“I know how close you two are. But I think you should distance yourself from her while you’re getting to know Duncan.”
I couldn’t just walk away from my sister. I loved her. Besides, with the possibility of the warrior’s life hanging in the balance, I couldn’t ignore Abby’s association with 105. “There’s a lot going on that you don’t know about. Things I promised Abby I wouldn’t talk to you about.”
“That’s just my point. Keeping secrets with her isn’t good for you.”
“I can’t go back on my word. If I do, she’ll start becoming paranoid of me, like she is with you.” I couldn’t lose my sister’s trust, especially not now that Duncan was part of the equation.
Carol persisted. “Please, just tell me it’s all right for me to talk to Duncan. I don’t want to do it behind your back. I couldn’t bear to betray you like that.”
Silent, I studied my aunt. She was fidgeting in her seat. She was also meddling in my affairs because she believed it was in my best interest. I was trying not to fault her for that.
Struggling to calm my nerves, I sipped my hot chocolate, sucking down the marshmallow clouds. Carol gazed expectantly at me, waiting for my permission.
I said, “You can tell Duncan whatever it is you feel is necessary.” I didn’t see where it was going to make a difference. I was certain that he would root for me and my sister, encouraging our closeness.
“Thank you.” Her breath rushed out. “I wish I didn’t feel the need to tell him. I wish I could pretend that it didn’t matter. But in my heart, I know it’s the right thing to do.”
In my heart, I was confused as ever. Carol thought that I needed rescuing, I was worried about Duncan dying, and Abby believed the warrior’s purpose was to save her people.
Everything was terribly mixed-up.
Also, if 105 turned out to be real, then what did that say about Abby? Would it mean that she’d been misdiagnosed, or would she still be considered schizophrenic? There had always been more to Abby’s odd behavior than her belief in 105, but now I wasn’t sure how to analyze her condition.
Because there was too much to think about, I cleared my mind and prepared to go to my room to set up my new social networking accounts. All I wanted tonight was to be a normal girl in a normal world, without having to worry about who was sane and who wasn’t.
***
A week later, I shopped at the consignment store. It was after hours, so I didn’t have to worry about any customers coming in. Carol was with me, dashing all over the store, helping me gather clothes. I was looking for something to wear on my date, which was tomorrow night.
Carol had already spoken to Duncan about her concerns. She’d called him a few days ago, and they’d talked at length over the phone. She was a lot calmer, so I figured that Duncan must have convinced her that it wasn’t as epic as she’d made it out to be. But even so, she still hadn’t changed her mind about me spending time with my sister.
Actually, I hadn’t been back to The Manor to see Abby. But I wasn’t avoiding her because Carol had persuaded me to stay away. I was just too nervous about my date to focus on Abby. After it was over, I would visit her and tell her about Duncan.
“I’m going to go into the dressing room now,” I said to Carol. I had a stack of dresses to try. We categorized our clothes by their eras, giving me a variety to choose from.
I started chronologically with a navy and white houndstooth from the forties, but it didn’t work. The squared shoulders and utilitarian style wasn’t flattering on me. I looked like a child playing dress-up in her grandmother’s attic. I tossed it aside and tried some frocks from the fifties, but they overpowered me, too.
My best bet was the sixties and seventies. I was used to wearing those styles. I slipped into a mod mini, but the pattern was too geometric, creating weird angles. Next, I went for a tie-dyed maxi, but there was too much fabric and it was way too long. I was striking out. Flustered, I zipped into a black shift, but it was too plain.
Carol knocked on the door. “How’s it going?”
“Awful. Nothing looks right.”
“There are some pieces in the back that I haven’t put out on the floor yet. Did you go through those?”
“No.”
“Hold on. I’ll bring them to you.”
I cracked open the door and waited. She returned with an armload of stuff. “I brought them all. You’ll have to sort through them.”
“Thank you.” I was glad that she was happy about my date, and the tension she’d created last week had subsided.
We exchanged smiles, and I closed the door and rummaged through the clothes. Some of it was hideous, like polyester pantsuits and such.
I continued digging through the pile and uncovered a pink and yellow spaghetti-strap mini dress with a scarf hem that I hoped would work. On the hanger, it was adorable.
Eager, I tried it on. It looked spectacular, as it if had been tailor-made for me. I squealed in delight. Excited to show Carol, I dashed out of the dressing room.
She grinned when she saw me. “It’s perfect.”
I gave a little twirl. “I think so, too.”
She clapped her hands together. “You are just the prettiest thing. He’s going die when he sees you.”
The last thing I wanted was for him to die, but she was only using it as an expression, so I didn’t let it bother me. “Do you think I should wear my hair up or down?” I scooped it up with my hands.
“You should fix it kind of like that.”
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sp; I turned toward a mirror and saw what she meant. Loose tendrils were falling, making it look elegantly messy. “Maybe I will.” I lowered my arms and my hair cascaded over my shoulders and down my back in my usual style.
“It looks gorgeous like that, too,” Carol said.
“Thank you.” My hair had always been my best feature. My eyes, too, big and blue, like Abby’s.
“I’m so glad the right boy came along for you. If I could have dreamed up someone for you, it would have been someone just like him.”
I did dream him up, or at least a version of him, but I couldn’t tell her that. Still, it was wonderful to have her support. “I’m so excited about tomorrow. I can’t wait to see him.” I made one last spin, letting the hem do its floaty thing. “I’m excited about this dress, too.”
“What about jewelry?” my aunt asked. “Maybe some earrings?”
“Sure. Why not?” I loved getting new goodies.
I followed her to the front counter and looked through the cases. We had a huge costume jewelry inventory.
I chose a pair of beaded earrings with a hippie flair. I found a necklace that matched, too. Carol suggested a new purse, as well. I went for a leather boho bag, decorated with a bit of fringe.
“Do you have a wrap that will work?” she asked. “In case it gets breezy in the evening?”
“I have tons of cropped cardigans.”
“Oh, that’s right. All those lovely little sweaters that you buy. How about shoes?”
“I’m good with those, too.” I had a closetful.
“Then you’re all set.”
“Yes, I am.” I beamed like the smitten girl that I was. “I’m ready for my very first date.”
Carol smiled, and with a flutter of emotion between us, she reached out and tugged me into her arms. I put my head on her shoulder. Only when it came time to end the embrace, she didn’t want to release me. So I let her hold me for as long as she wanted, hoping that someday she would hold Abby this way, too.
***
The following night, I was ready and waiting, attired in my new dress with my hair piled loosely on top of my head. I didn’t know if I’d ever been this anxious.
I was tempted to go out onto the porch and wait for Duncan, but I didn’t want to seem too eager, even if I was.
When the doorbell sounded, I leaped off the sofa in a flurry of cotton and silk. Carol was in the kitchen, reheating leftovers for her dinner. She was trying to stay out of the way, but I knew she wanted to dash into the living room like a mom on prom night.
I opened the door. There stood Duncan, tall and dark and powerfully handsome, with a single rose in his hand. He extended it to me.
“Thank you.” I clutched it against my heart. It was the same shade of pink that was in my dress.
He was dressed similar to when I saw him at the gallery, with a crisp white T-shirt, a black jacket, and button-fly jeans. His blackish-brown hair was banded in a ponytail.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “And your hair is so sexy. I always thought of those types of styles as bedroom hair.”
“I’ve never worn it this way before.”
He flashed a boyish smile. “It’s a first.”
Lost in that smile, I nodded. “My first date, my first kiss, my first bedroom hair.” And eventually he would be my first lover. I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about that.
He touched one of the tendrils falling free of my twisted bun, and looked at me as if he was actually seeing me for the “first” time, as if everything he knew about me was different somehow.
His intensity was making me light-headed. Was that how he would look at me when we made love? I wished he would kiss me, right here and now, but he didn’t. He released my hair and lowered his hand, leaving me aching for more.
I invited him inside, and he entered the living room.
Before I melted all over him, I held up the rose said, “I should put this in water. I’ll be right back.”
“Sure. Go ahead.” His expression hadn’t changed. He was still gazing at me with masculine intensity.
I went into the kitchen and showed Carol my flower.
“That’s lovely.” She got an antique bud vase from the cabinet. We had a collection of them, even if we rarely used them. There were lots of things in our house that went unused.
I filled the vase, slipped the rose inside and placed it on the windowsill. Tonight when my date was over, I would carry it into my bedroom and put it on my dresser. Then later, when the rose wilted, I would wrap it in plastic and keep it in my underwear drawer.
“Do you mind if I say hello to Duncan?” Carol asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”
She’d already intruded when she’d called him to discuss my relationship with my sister, but that went without saying. She was well aware that she’d poked her nose into my affairs.
I replied, “Of course you can say hello.”
She headed for the living room, leaving her leftovers simmering on the stove. I went with her, eager to be near Duncan again.
He was standing beside the fireplace, gazing at childhood photos of me on the mantel. There weren’t any of Abby. She’d destroyed all of her pictures. I’d told him about it on the day we met.
He heard us come into the room and shifted his attention. He and Carol exchanged an immediate greeting, but it seemed awkward, with neither of them behaving quite like themselves.
Perplexed, I watched them, wondering if Duncan had been more affected by their telephone conversation than I’d assumed he was.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “Your aunt was just saying hi, and I was just…”
“Looking at pictures of me,” I provided.
“Yes. You were a cute kid.”
“So was Abby,” I informed him.
He didn’t reply. Neither did Carol. They were definitely acting weird. I was starting to feel weird, too, as if the three of us were inside a giant bubble, bouncing around the room, knocking into walls and bumping against the furniture.
Duncan popped the bubble, sending me a reassuring smile. “Are you ready for dinner? I made reservations at an Italian restaurant in downtown Riverside. I’m a downtown kind of guy, and I thought it might be fun to explore your city with you.”
“That sounds wonderful. I’m totally ready.”
I collected my sweater and grabbed my purse. I wanted to escape the house before the bubble came back.
We said goodbye to Carol, and as soon as Duncan I were outside I felt better. The air was soft and scented with summer.
Duncan’s mode of transportation, a big black truck, was parked at the curb. He’d painted a big black stallion as his horse of choice, so his vehicle seemed equally fitting. I wasn’t surprised by it.
Once we were on the road, he played music that he’d downloaded. The Lumineers came on, and I bounced back and forth in my seat, feeling like Duncan’s sweetheart. He sang the “Ho Hey” part with me, and we both laughed.
Now that we were free of my house, the date was going well. We listened to Mumford & Sons next.
After that, he played a classic rock hit called Come and Get Your Love, taking us back to a time before either of us had been born.
“Carol plays an oldies station at the store,” I said, letting him know that I’d heard the song before. “She says it goes with the territory.”
“Jack liked this era of music. He told me about this band. They’re called Redbone, and the members are Native American and Mexican American. Redbone is a Cajun reference for a person with mixed race, like half-breed.”
“Do you think you’re mixed?” I wanted to know how he perceived himself.
“I could I be, I suppose, but I don’t look like I am. I don’t feel like I am, either. I have a sense of being a full-blood, but I can’t be sure.”
The warrior I’d created was supposed to be a universal warrior with a bit of every tribe as part of his genetics. Of course I’d only come up with that be
cause I didn’t know anything about Indians back then. My knowledge was still limited. I didn’t even know how many tribes there were.
“People call Natives like me apples,” he said. “Red on the outside and white on the inside. Most Native foster kids are put into Native homes, but they weren’t required to do that with me because there was no record of me actually being Native. I was white as far as the state was concerned, even if the color of my skin said otherwise. It got them off the hook, I guess. It’s hard to find Native foster homes, so they just stuck me wherever they could. Jack never treated me that way. He might’ve had his own ideas about my identity, but at least he was sensitive to my feelings.”
My heart went tight. In Room 105, he would be regarded as a powerful presence. No one would call him names there. But it was foolish for me to keep dwelling on a place that might not even be real. “I’m sorry foster care was so difficult for you.”
“It was just lonely, that’s all.”
I nodded. Without my sister, I would’ve been lost. At least we had each other. Duncan didn’t have anyone.
We arrived at the restaurant, which was housed in a brick building with stained-glass windows.
“Have you ever eaten here before?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, but I like Italian food.”
“I called ahead and made sure that they had booth seating. I want to sit next to you, not across from you. I want us to be able to eat off each other’s plates and feel the kind of closeness people should feel on a date. I don’t want there to be any distance between us.”
He couldn’t have said anything more romantic. He did everything right. He opened my car door for me. He put his hand on the small of my back when we went inside.
The restaurant was dimly lit, with a traditional décor: grapevines painted on the walls and recycled Chianti bottles being used as candleholders. We were ushered to a small, corner booth. I scooted in, and Duncan followed me. He made certain that we were sitting close enough to touch. I breathed in the nearness of him, drawing in the woodsy spice of his cologne. I was wearing fragrance, too, and mine was a fresh blend of fruit and flowers.
Beautiful Confusion (New Adult Romance) Room 105 Page 6