by Amber Stokes
Because he hadn’t wanted to go to Humboldt State University. He’d resented the lack of scholarships that made it more practical to live at home and attend college locally. And in some sort of twisted rebellion, he’d determined not to take any more “frivolous” classes than he had to in order to finish his general ed. Funny how Biology had seemed frivolous compared to his relentless pursuit of a music major that had gotten him all of nowhere.
The melancholy thoughts translated into an “I don’t know” and a shrug that he offered to Trisha. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he was thinking in college, beyond dreaming things he had no right to dream and dating a girl he should have known better than to date.
So much wasted time.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he drove toward the other end of the biggest town in the county—population: 25,000 or so.
“Why don’t you come see us more often? You live barely ten minutes away.”
Somehow, another “I don’t know” and a shrug didn’t seem likely to cut it this time. “The truth?”
Trisha snorted. “Well, yeah, that’d be nice.”
Rain started sprinkling down on the windshield. Wonderful. Thank you once again, Humboldt County. He sighed. “I need to find my place. Have something important to show Mom and Dad so they’d stop telling me what I should be doing instead.”
Too late he realized that he shouldn’t say such things to his younger sister.
Was it his imagination, or were Chloe and Brielle talking more quietly in the back?
Trisha tossed her hair. “That’s silly, Derrick. Parents will always do that no matter what.”
“Easy for you to say. They adore you. The pre-med student, on her way to becoming Dr. Knolane, savior of lives and all-around best child of the year.”
“Derrick! Don’t be stupid. You know they’re proud of you.”
His knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white, and his shoulders inched up to his ears in agitation. “Proud of what?” When Trisha didn’t respond right away, he huffed out a laugh. “I’ll make ’em proud someday. Until then, I’d rather not constantly be reminded of my failures.”
Trisha remained silent, and his guilty thoughts drowned out Chloe and Brielle’s conversation as he drove the rest of the way to the Headwaters Forest Reserve, exiting the freeway and winding through ranches and past the road to the Boy Scouts camp before parking at the entrance to the trail. Chloe practically leaped out of the car, while Trisha slid out of her seat and slammed the passenger door behind her. Brielle remained for a moment, catching his gaze in the rearview mirror. Her blue eyes shone with compassion and empathy, as if she understood his feelings. Which seemed ridiculous, but felt comforting nevertheless.
“You ever going to tell me who you are?” he asked quietly.
She gave him an almost sad little smile as she unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car.
Derrick joined the girls and locked the car after making sure everyone had their sweaters. It was still sprinkling, but around here, if they waited for a clear day whenever they wanted to walk, they’d never get much exercise.
He led the way across the parking lot to the trail’s entrance.
“What is this place?” Brielle asked, her golden hair framing her face beneath the borrowed sweater’s blue hood.
“Headwaters Forest,” Trisha chimed in. “It’s a beautiful trail.”
“And there used to be this old logging town here,” Chloe added, sounding pleased to be the first to share the fact. “What was the name again, Derr?”
“Falk.” He had done a project on it in a history class once upon a time. It always felt a little odd whenever they spotted remaining artifacts from the town—like the cement stoop of the caretaker’s place, or the old shed. Just bits and pieces of a place where people had once lived and thrived.
They walked in companionable silence for a while, the rain growing steady but not too harsh. He stopped at every sign along the way so Brielle could read about the plant life and the history of the place. When they got close to the old building that now served as an education center, Chloe ran ahead—probably too antsy with their slow pace. He shook his head as Trisha took off after her, their sisterly laughter clutching at something lonely lodged in his chest.
“You know...” Brielle began.
He turned around and walked backward, watching her as she huddled inside her sweater and stared at the wet leaves on the paved path. When she shrugged her shoulders and didn’t say anything else, he asked, “What do I know?”
She met his gaze and gave him a little grin. “Lots of stuff, I’m sure. Just maybe not the stuff you should know.”
He stopped and crossed his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She stopped, too, right in front of him. “I’ve barely met your family, but I can already tell that they adore you and wish you were around more often.” She rubbed her arms, her steady gaze faltering. “Maybe it’s okay not to be the best at everything.”
Before he could butt in with some inevitably rude retort—a sour note waiting at the edge of his tongue—she gestured toward the woods on her right. “Think about a town like Falk. The man who founded the town had to have been pretty brilliant and successful. And I’m sure there were some awesome loggers. But what about the people who cooked meals or ran the train or whatever? The town wouldn’t be complete without them.” Her voice floated off to a near-whisper as she asked, “And what about the ones who ran the store? What would the town have been like without them?”
He sighed, hating to burst her optimistic little bubble. “Brielle, it’s not like anyone couldn’t have done those jobs. They were completely replaceable.”
She appeared hurt by his observation, lines growing pronounced in her forehead. “Yeah, someone else could have done the job. But they didn’t. Everyone’s work was important. Each person and family played a part in this town’s story.” Her hands waved as she spoke. “Don’t you see? Success isn’t just the hand that chops down the tree used to build the home. It’s also the hand that feeds that man, or the smile that sustains him.”
Her words resonated within him, even if his mind told him she was being overly sentimental and silly. “If you’re trying to comfort me about my job, I appreciate it. But working at a dying music store is hardly building anything or feeding anyone. It’s just a worthless paycheck and nothing more.”
Without warning, her mouth turned down and she shoved past him. “It will always be that, then, if that’s how you always see it,” she called over her shoulder as she stomped ahead to catch up to his sisters.
He spun around to follow after her, but he couldn’t find an opening to continue the conversation and try to make things right before Brielle reached the education center, which was closed for the day.
“There’s a sign about the train up here,” Chloe said to Brielle. He watched as the two of them walked across the gravel to the large board with pictures and information. Trisha came from where she’d been leaning against the building and stood on Brielle’s other side. His sisters talked to Brielle for a few moments, and her shoulders noticeably relaxed little by little as her laugh returned.
In that instant, he determined to try harder never to steal that beautiful sound away again.
He flipped off his green hood and tilted his head back. Eyes closed, he let the rain wash over him, along with the sweet voices. Man, he really had missed his sisters. It had been too long since they’d spent time together outside of an awkward holiday.
“Derr, catch.”
His eyes flew open as Chloe tossed her camera at his stomach. It hit his middle and slid into his hands. “Geez, I could have dropped it.”
She offered him a sassy smile. “I knew you wouldn’t. Now, be a good brother and take a picture of us, please?”
He shook his head but lifted the camera so he could see the preview image. Chloe and Trisha leaned in toward Brielle on either side of her as they stood in front of the sign, and their smiles
lit up the screen. Rain droplets splashed down the image, but the three of them—already fast friends—created sunshine all their own as he clicked their picture.
Chapter 6
Quiet reigned that afternoon—mostly because Derrick holed up in his childhood room upon their return from the walk. He could hear his mom and sisters entertaining Brielle with stories, while the scent of hot molasses cookies indicated they were doing some baking along with the talking. He just needed some time to think before he joined them, but pacing around the room like a timid cyclone didn’t seem to be doing anything to settle the restlessness in his heart.
What he was going to do? He couldn’t imagine spending another night sharing an apartment with Scott. The guy had gone too far this time, and Derrick couldn’t simply pretend that he wasn’t sick of Scott’s attitude and disgusted with his actions toward Brielle. It seemed wrong to even think of it, going on as if nothing had happened. As if Brielle hadn’t fallen into his world and changed everything in the sweetest and subtlest of ways.
Yet, where else could he go? He couldn’t live at home again.
Could he?
He dug his hands through his hair and groaned. It would be just perfect. Twenty-four years old, living with his parents and working at a dead-end job. Everything he had dreamed of since he was a boy.
A knock on the door broke into his sarcastic musings. “Derrick?”
Great. His dad was home.
The door opened, and his dad entered and then shut the door behind him. “What are you doing in here while your girlfriend’s in the kitchen?”
“Being stupid. As usual.” The bed sank beneath his weight as he perched on the edge. No point in correcting his dad. It wasn’t as if he and Brielle had really determined they were dating, but he preferred to imagine they were rather than dwell on the thought of her leaving his life as quickly as she had entered it.
His dad came and sat next to him on the bed. “You know, our casa is always your casa.” Derrick rolled his eyes. His dad grinned. “That is to say, our home is always open to you. And everyone needs to have that fallback, no matter how old they are. There’s no shame in that.”
Derrick swallowed, his mouth dry and his eyes embarrassingly wet. “Then why does the thought of it make me feel like a little kid?”
Before his dad could answer, Derrick jumped to his feet and paced toward the door. “You used to think I could be anything I wanted to be.” A harsh chuckle escaped his lips. “Now look at me. And look at you. You’ve all lost faith in me.”
His dad didn’t get up. Didn’t say a word until Derrick reluctantly met his gaze. “I still believe you can be whatever you want to be—do whatever you want to do. But it’s not my life to live. You’ve gotta take steps that will get you where you want to go.”
“Dang it, Dad!” He kicked the door. “I did take those steps. My bachelor’s degree—does that ring a bell?” Resting his head on the still vibrating wood, he added lowly, “And what about all those weekends I played at different restaurants, month after month? Doesn’t all that mean anything?”
His dad finally stood, disappointment and a dash of anger etched on his face. “Passion is all well and good, as long as you’re pursuing something you’re able to attain.”
Derrick’s hands fisted at his sides as he shook his head. “You never did believe I could make it with my music.”
His dad sighed, his hand resting on the doorknob. “You play really well, Son. But not everyone can make a living off of playing the guitar.”
“Is that it, then?” He fell a step back from his dad. “Don’t you see why it’s so hard for me to come back? I must be the world’s worst son, to not even measure up to my younger sisters.”
A pause took over, then his dad released the doorknob. “My only point in coming in here was to tell you that you’re always welcome to come home. Perhaps you’re the one who’s putting too much pressure on yourself.”
Derrick met his dad’s gaze, surprised to find a familiar glint returning to his dad’s brown eyes. “What do you say we go to the Seascape tonight? Just like old times. Bet your girlfriend would enjoy a walk on the pier.”
Instead of remembering the seafood, the taste of hot, salty McDonald’s fries filled Derrick’s mouth, and he could almost feel the wind through his hair. Those really had been good times. He released a deep breath. “Yeah, okay.”
∞∞∞
Derrick still wasn’t a fan of seafood, after all these years. He loved the smell of the sea, but he hated the smell of fish. So he ended up ordering a burger and attempting not to wrinkle his nose at the clam chowder Brielle ordered. Over the course of their dinner, his anger receded like the outgoing tide, and he relaxed more and more in his family’s presence.
While Chloe took forever polishing off her dessert, Derrick leaned over and quietly asked Brielle, “Walk with me?”
She nodded, the corner of her mouth tipping up like the handle on the Big Dipper.
“We’re going outside for a bit. See you all at home?” Derrick stood and pulled his slim wallet out of his pocket, planning on taking out enough bills to cover his and Brielle’s meals.
His dad simply waved his hand at him. “No need for that. It’s been a while since I’ve had a chance to take my whole family out to dinner.”
“Drive safely, Derrick,” his mother urged, softening the command with a smile.
Chloe looked up from her dessert long enough to wave, while Trisha offered a grin to Brielle, which then turned to a smirk for him. He’d take it.
Waving to everyone and waiting long enough for Brielle to say goodbye, he then ushered her out the door and down the front steps.
The wind chilled him, coming in gusts like someone was attempting to blow out a birthday candle. He zipped his own jacket, then turned to Brielle. She was busy looking at the sky, and before he could think twice, he reached out and began to zip up the sweater she had borrowed.
She startled. He could feel her gaze on him, but when he got the zipper to her collar bone and stole a peek at her face, her eyes were downcast and her cheeks had turned red. They were standing so close he could feel the heat of her blush. Emboldened, he leaned in a little closer and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
After lingering a moment in the warm air between them, he finally stepped back with a grin. “I always thought the stars would be hot to the touch.”
She smiled and shook her head. Then she glanced to the sky again, which had surprisingly cleared of most clouds. “Come on.”
He followed her down the narrow pier, buffeted by the wind and awed by the incoming waves. The sight of the sea always fueled the part of his heart that had yet to give up on dreams.
Halfway down the pier, Brielle veered toward the railing to her right and gazed up again.
“Missing home?” Derrick teased as he joined her, leaning his elbows on the railing.
“Maybe.” She pointed up at something. “See? Orion’s Belt is missing its third star.”
Derrick stood up straight and quickly found the constellation. Orion—his old winter friend. He stared at it for a moment, then slanted a glance down at Brielle.
A smile broke free as the wind tugged at her honey-toned hair. “Made you look.”
“How old are you, anyway? Five?”
She laughed. “Add twenty...”
His gaze narrowed in suspicion.
“And subtract four,” she added, a distinct glimmer in her eyes.
He leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms. “Now that’s funny. I thought the stars were much older than that.”
She offered no teasing reply, her attention once again riveted to the incoming indigo night and the stars stuck to its murky depths, with soft, milky waves rolling across one section.
“Can we go down to the beach?” she eventually asked.
He studied her in the muted glow of the pier and restaurant lights. “Why not?”
With him leading the way, they left the pier and set down th
e path toward the shadowed sand. When he held a hand behind him, Brielle grasped it, allowing him to steady her as they made their way down the slippery rocks at the bottom of the incline. As soon as her feet hit the sand, she let go of him and ran toward the waves.
Something in his gut squeezed, sending him rushing after her.
Brielle stopped at the foam line and threw her arms wide, as if she were attempting to embrace the sea. “Isn’t it just glorious?” Her voice reached him on a breathless breeze as he neared her.
He couldn’t seem to stop as suddenly as she had, and his running shoes soon filled with water, the bottom of his jeans soaked. He sucked in a loud breath, then let it out on a shudder. As he turned, he caught Brielle’s wide, bright gaze and witnessed her smile bursting forth like the rising of the moon over the trees.
A wild idea entered his head, and before he could think through the consequences, he rushed at Brielle.
Her smile disappeared like the moon behind clouds as she turned and fled. “Derrick! You better not!” She lobbed the warning behind her, but he was having none of it. The chase was just too fun.
She squealed as he caught her around the waist and then threw his momentum backward, lifting her off her feet as he backed toward the water. “Now, what was it you claimed to be? A star...or a starfish?”
She pulled at his arms and struggled to break free, but her attempts were pitiful, distracted as she was by her own laughter. He was pretty distracted, too—until a wave hit the back of his calves and nearly launched him and Brielle face-first into the sand. He stumbled forward and released his hold on her.
For a moment, they stood there—Brielle with her back to him, and he shivering with wet and cold and some other strange sensation that pulled on him with the strength of the departing tide.
In a flash, with the unexpectedness of a falling star, she spun around, threw her arms around his neck, and reached up to press her lips to his. The force stunned him, and before he could properly respond, the awkward pressure lessened. But just as he sensed her pulling away he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her back in, making the kiss mutual. Soft, warm, a bit fishy...but oh so good.