The Willows: Haven

by Hope Collier

  The children piled onto the bus and lined up at the windows, waving as it pulled away. Gabe turned and made his way back, a satisfied twinkle in his eyes.

  “That was very sweet of you, but I think you missed one,” I said, pointing to the tip of a baggy showing from his back pocket.

  “Hmm. I suppose I did. Here, why don’t you take it?” He lifted a green square box out and offered it to me.

  I lifted an eyebrow and removed the lid. Inside, laid a ring with a woven silver band and a blue-green stone in the center. The color matched his eyes perfectly.

  “Where did you get this?” I picked up the ring and studied the round stone. “This is incredible.”

  Gabe took it and slid it over my index finger. “I hoped you would like it.”

  “I love it,” I said. “Thank you so much, but if anything, I owe you. I did kill your bike if you’ll remember.”

  Gabe smiled. “There are worse things in life than spending a few fun-filled days on a road trip with pleasant company.”

  My face warmed, and I looked away. “You want to head back and settle in before the fireworks?”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” he said, his gaze settled on me, watchful. I wanted to believe it was because he enjoyed the view but his frequent glances toward the crowd forced my opinion in another direction. I got the feeling he wasn’t over the incident in the hotel parking lot. Neither was I for that matter, but something about Gabe made me feel safe, even if I shouldn’t.

  Gabe appeared to be lost in thought as we drove back. When we got to the house, he walked upstairs. I slipped my shoes off and headed for the sitting room. An elegant grand piano situated in the corner caught my attention. I brushed my hand across the glossy black and white keys, enjoying the coolness of each one. It always amazed me that no matter the temperature of a place, the keys always felt chilled, like the piano was more relaxed than everything else around it.

  I hadn’t so much as touched an instrument since I was fourteen. It felt foreign but familiar at the same time. My fingers danced across the ivory, finding the peaceful melody I’d learned as a child. Grief swirled around me, but I ignored it, welcoming the warmth of the tune.

  Suddenly, the air stirred as Gabe came in the room, and my hands stilled. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

  “I haven’t heard that song in years.” Gabe paused in the entranceway, his head bowed.

  “You know it?” My eyebrows rose.

  “It’s … a lullaby. Where did you learn to play?”

  “It was the first song I ever learned. Charlie would have me play it over and over again.” A sad smile pulled my mouth up.

  “You play beautifully.” Gabe’s eyes darkened with a regret I didn’t understand. He cleared his throat and moved toward the front door. “I thought I’d take a walk. If you need me, I’ll be outside.”

  His gaze hesitated on the piano for a moment before he left.

  I offered the keys one last touch then stood and wandered to the backdoor overlooking the lake. A long dock jutted out into the water, the latter half covered by a green tin roof. A sport boat floated in the furthest slip, beckoning a visit. My fingertips traced the ridge along the skin of my cheekbone — a faint scar from my first attempt at wakeboarding.

  I pocketed the boat keys hanging by the door and crossed the yard. A breeze danced from the shore, filling my lungs with the scent of lake water and excitement. I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath. The sound of children’s laughter echoed from the trees. Suddenly, I found myself on the banks of the lake in my Louisiana home.

  “Girls, come inside!” Ms. Lynn called.

  I ducked below the surface, smiling at Allie as we waited below the waterline.

  The shadow of Ms. Lynn waved into view at the edge of the grass. She crossed her arms, foot tapping, and shook her head.

  “Ashton.” Her voice carried through the liquid barrier like a hollow drum. “Ashton?”

  “Ashton?” The voice became clearer. I slowly opened my eyes.

  Gabe stood a stone’s throw away, his head tilted in question. “Are you all right?”

  I sent him a tight smile. “Uh, yeah. I guess I was daydreaming.”

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked.

  “I thought I’d check out the Moomba,” I said. He lifted a brow. “The boat.” I nodded toward the slip.

  “Ah.” His eyes shifted toward the water. “Were you going for a ride?”

  “I was thinking about it. Want to come?” I smiled and followed the wooden planks to the edge.

  “That depends. There’s nothing left for you to run over but me.” He grinned when I scowled.

  I paused halfway to the boat. My eyebrows fell as I dug around in my pockets.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, a mischievous grin on his face.

  “I swear I brought the—”

  Gabe made a slick move with his hand and dangled a set of keys in front of my face as if he’d pulled them from my ear.

  “Looking for these?” He winked.

  “How did you do that?” I moved forward, playfully lunging for the keys. My toe caught an uneven plank, and the dock came sailing toward me. Warm hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me close, the motion bowing our bodies across the railing. My heart leapt into my throat. Gabe’s face, inches from mine, sent his mouthwatering scent across my skin.

  “Thanks,” I breathed.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone distant.

  That’s a loaded question, I considered but nodded.

  “Good. Did you want to…” His sentence fell away as he peered around.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “The keys.” He sighed in frustration. “They fell.”

  I didn’t understand his aggravation till I saw that the ball-chained ring they were on had snapped in two. The floating part of the key chain lay on the dock; the keys on the other hand, had slipped through the cracks.

  “Hey, no worries. I can order new ones. It’s not a big deal.” I shrugged. “Besides, I’ll take consciousness over a boat ride any day.”

  “Hmm…” He slid a contemplative eye toward the water.

  “Hmm, what?” I questioned with a frown. He couldn’t possibly believe that the keys were retrievable, but he probably did.

  “I’m curious, how deep do you think the water is?”

  “Deep enough,” I insisted. “You can’t just—”

  Without hesitation, Gabe dove headfirst into the lake and disappeared beneath the surface.

  “Gabe?” The water rippled from the center then dissipated like sound waves. “This isn’t funny.”

  The wind brushed across my face, my eyes scanning the surface. Silence stretched on, and the water smoothed to glass.

  “Gabe!” Still nothing. In a flurry, I dove in.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  A Life Less Ordinary

  Opening my eyes, I didn’t expect to see anything, but somehow water shone as clear as if I were wearing goggles. I fought the urge to gasp as things came into focus. Wisps of lake grass swayed along the bottom, a variety of fish weaving in and out of the vegetation. Bubbles gurgled up from the silt, zigzagging their way to the surface.

  I shook my head and spun around, searching for Gabe. A human-sized silhouette floated just in the shadows beneath the dock, suspended as if it were hanging like a lure. I squinted into the darkness and set out swimming. Algae licked up the columns and filtered through the water, obscuring my view. Frustrated, I kicked to the surface.

  No sooner than my head met the air, did I hear an amused chuckle coming from behind me. I whirled around to catch sight of Gabe hiding by the boat.

  “What the—?”

  “You know, a guy could drown waiting for you,” he teased.

  “How could … you … don’t ever…” I sputtered. Visions of a lifeless Gabe in the coffin lingered too close. I splashed him angrily and swam toward the bank.

  “Ashton, don’t be angry. I didn’t mean to upse
t you. I was joking,” he implored, the humor still not gone from his voice.

  Mixed emotion hummed through me as I huffed across the lawn. How could I not be upset?

  “I apologize. I didn’t think. Gracie, wait. Please.” Gabe’s slick hand wrapped around mine, encouraging me to turn. His turquoise eyes burned into mine. “Forgive me?”

  “Fine,” I conceded with a sigh. He grinned. “That doesn’t make it funny though.” I shoved him away a little.

  “I know,” he answered, his tone apologetic. “I’m truly very sorry. I didn’t think about your reaction in the water … I won’t ever do that again.” With that, he raised his left hand to his brow, two fingers extended. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Ha ha.” I rolled my eyes but half-smiled.

  Gabe stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a pair of keys. “Look.”

  My eyebrows rose as I opened my palm to catch them.

  “How did you…” I didn’t even finish my question. I knew the answer — sort of. Gabe seemed capable of almost anything. He looked like he wanted an explanation for my silence, but I figured if he wanted to be mysterious, so could I.

  Gabe absentmindedly toyed with the leather cord around his neck.

  “What is that thing?” I stepped closer, trying to get a better look. “You tinker with it when you’re anxious.”

  His smile turned to surprise before he hurried to brush it off.

  “Force of habit.” He laughed once. “It’s nothing really. A family heirloom.”

  “May I see it?” I risked another step. His chest tensed, pulling my eyes away from the necklace for a moment.

  “Sure.” He looped his thumb under the cord and lifted the charm from beneath his shirt.

  I stared at an intricately carved willow tree with long wispy branches. The silver glistened in the sunlight as I traced over the trunk to the roots. The bottom curved out, forming a small V-shape. Something seemed familiar about the design, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  “See, no more than a boring tree,” he said. “Now, how about that boat ride?”

  We stayed on the lake most of the day. As dusk made its approach, we docked and found a soft patch of grass to settle down on. Just as the last ray of sunlight ducked below the horizon, a brilliant red lit up the night sky in the shape of a heart. A flash of blue streaked east as a blaze of green soared the opposite way. Distant ooh’s and ahh’s sounded from various boats scattered across the lake. Gabe and I sat shoulder to shoulder on the grass, his warmth bleeding into mine as we stared transfixed at the darkness that served as a canvas.

  I snuck a glance at Gabe who continued to watch the show. A brilliant white shot across the horizon, illuminating the entire sky. I gasped as the light filled his eyes. A strange blue flickering shone back like an animal in the night.

  Gabe heard my gasp and quickly turned his head down, his breathing picking up.

  “Your eyes,” I said in a whisper. “Wh-what is that?”

  “Nothing,” he wheezed. “It’s the light from the fireworks on my… retina.” Gabe sighed. “It’s an odd genetic anomaly.”

  “But they glowed!” I continued to stare, dumbfounded.

  “No.”

  “No?” My voice shot up. “I saw them.”

  “No, they didn’t glow.” He glanced at me, his mouth quirked up. “They just caught the light at an angle and it … refracted back. Thick corneas or something along those lines.” He laughed nervously. “It’s nothing to trouble yourself about.”

  “Sure.” I narrowed my eyes.

  There had to be more to it than that.

  Gradually, the lights died away and the crescent moon peaked through the haze.

  “Well, I’m beat.” Gabe yawned as we made our way toward the house. “I think I’m going to head upstairs.”

  “Oh.” I looked up, hoping to prolong our time. “Did you need anything before bed? Are you hungry? I can get you something.”

  Gabe’s turquoise eyes traced over my face, an enticing smile on his lips. He drew a long breath, lost in an emotion I thought closely resembled my own, and then he shook his head.

  “Are you sure? I don’t mind.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes and gave him a playful smile.

  Gabe moved closer, his hand on the doorframe. He shifted on his feet, leaning in. The heat from his body pinned me in place, leaving me wanting to close the distance. I lost myself in the sea of his eyes and let out a sigh.

  “I should go now.” Gabe’s voice grew husky, and he backed away. His hand swept again to the charm around his neck, almost as if it were some talisman.

  “All right. ’Night, then,” I said.

  “Goodnight. Sleep well.” He held the door open for me, and we walked through the foyer. Gabe vanished into the shadows on the second floor, the echo of another yawn lingering in the stairwell. Having slept all morning, sleep couldn’t be further from my mind.

  I tiptoed upstairs and followed the hall to the last room in my wing of the house. Turning the glass knob, I opened the door. The scent of stale air tinged with patchouli oil brought a twinge of anxiety. Something about this room felt familiar.

  I switched on a lamp. Pale light illuminated the dust-covered trinkets scattered across a table near the doorway. The walls reflected the same shade as the sky on a cloudless day. Gilded-framed watercolors scattered the walls, splashing the background of blue. Though difficult to make out what they portrayed, I stood in front of them one at a time, blowing away the thick layer of dust. Each depicted various bodies of water surrounded by vibrant wildflowers. One large painting showed a towering willow overhanging a lake. The long branches hung low, skimming the surface of the deep. Beneath the tree sat a beautiful couple. A man with dark hair reclined against the trunk while he held a woman with golden tresses waving down her back. My eyes tarried on the painting, wishing I could see them better — I couldn’t make out the faces through the dust, and I didn’t want to smudge the painting by rubbing it.

  Antique-white furniture stood lonely, abandoned along the mullioned walls, a long forgotten rocking chair hiding in the corner. As I walked toward the dresser, a draft carried across my bare feet. I glanced toward the windows. The heavy curtains drooped motionless. Another kiss of cool air tickled my toes. I bent down to see a bare spot on the wooden floor where the wind moved.

  The draft came from behind the dresser.

  With a grunt, I worked the furniture away from the wall, gasping as the arch of a door came into view.

  Sweat dewed on my brow as I inched toward the tarnished handle and tugged. Worn and narrow steps ascended into the darkness. A silent breeze traveled through the empty passageway, sending a chill racing down my spine.

  “Ashton?” Gabe’s voice broke the silence. I jumped, feeling like I’d been caught spying or reading someone else’s journal.

  “You scared me,” I said through a shaky laugh.

  “I thought you might find your way in here.” Gabe sighed. His eyes narrowed as they locked on the passageway behind me. “You are clever, aren’t you?”

  “You knew about this? How? That’s not even possible.” I frowned, a thousand questions swirling through my mind.

  Gabe laughed without humor. “The realm of impossibilities is a tricky place.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. This doesn’t make any sense.”

  He shook his head, a sadness filling his eyes. “You’re right. Few things are sensible. I should call you Alice for all the rabbit holes you fall down. But this is one thing you should understand.”

  Gabe flipped the switch on the stairs and reached down to take my hand, leading me through the doorway. The stairs creaked and groaned as we left a trail of footprints through the dust. Gabe pulled on a chain hanging from the ceiling at the landing and row after row of lights flickered to life.

  An expansive room spanned the top floor. The roof sloped toward the edges with exposed beams. Shelf after shelf stood, lined floor to ceiling with dusty books of
all shapes and sizes. The scent of old leather, musty paper, and linseed oil set my heart aching as a sense of déjà vu washed over me.

  Moonlight filtered through the semi-circle window, acting as a spotlight to an easel, table, and various painting tools. Tubes of paints, pallets, and pencils lay strewn across the stained surface, and a small green sofa sat against the wall opposite the window.

  “Can you believe this?” I mumbled to no one in particular.

  I ran my finger along the leather-bound books squeezed onto the shelves. Much like my own library, there was no rhyme or reason to their order. Several memorable titles caught my eye as I drifted from one to the next. Gabe walked behind me, his fingers still wound through mine. I peered around the attic, admiring the paintings scattered throughout. Some filled the blank spaces between the shelves, while other were stacked flat or tucked in a corner. Each had one of two things depicted: a family or a different view of the same body of water. Consistent brush strokes and style pointed to each being crafted by the same artist. The tugging in my heart led me to believe it was my mother.

  “I can’t believe my mom had all of this. Where did she find the time to paint these pictures or read these books? It would take me a lifetime.”

  “For some, one lifetime offers more opportunities than others. I imagine you’re capable of most anything.”

  I didn’t need to turn to hear the smile in Gabe’s voice.

  “We aren’t all super-human. In fact, most of us are quite ordinary.” I sighed.

  Gabe pulled me around to face him. “Most of them, Gracie. You are anything but ordinary.” He brushed his fingertip down my nose, and my heart stuttered in my chest.

  I turned my eyes down and struggled to work my way around the room. A small box, the same shape as a miniature trunk, caught my attention. I tilted my head, trying to make out the designs on the side.

  Gabe’s arm stiffened, pulling me to a stop as I tried to move closer for a better view.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Ashton,” he started then paused. “I don’t want you to…” His voice faltered as he searched for the words. I waited for him to continue but he didn’t speak.