The Calling

by Ashley Lynn Willis

  “This ain’t why I came back.” He handed the box to Justin, the black velvet crusted with wet sand. “I needed to talk to you about somethin’ before I left, but I didn’t. When I got home, I couldn’t sleep because I hadn’t talked to you. I’m grumpy when I don’t sleep.”

  “So you should be at the house right now.”

  “I was at your house. Mandy called and told me what happened. Said you might need me.”

  “She told you everything?”

  Mitch’s eyes tensed, a spark of knowing dancing in their depths. “She said a rogue wave killed an old friend of yours.”

  He studied his dad’s face, deciding how much to divulge. In for a penny, in for pound. “He held a gun to Mandy’s head.”

  His dad’s expression remained empty, as if he were afraid the slightest emotion would pass judgment. Maybe he knew what a thin string of twine their relationship dangled from.

  “Her old boyfriend?” Mitch asked.

  “Yep.”

  His dad plopped down beside him and picked up a piece of driftwood. He drew a long line in the sand, then whipped the driftwood back and drew another line beneath it before connecting them in the figure of a snake, complete with a slithering tongue. “I went to Grand Lake in Oklahoma one time with my little brother,” Mitch said. “We were in our early twenties with nothin’ better to do, and we heard there was some good catfishin’ there.

  “We was tromping around the shore looking for a spot to cast our lines when a snake struck your Uncle. It sunk its teeth into his jeans, barely missing his hide, and spit venom all over the place. I’d never seen a water moccasin before, and this was a big bastard. As soon as it let go of my brother’s pants, we took off down the shore. The foul-tempered thing chased us. I never knew a snake could move so fast.

  “Every time we’d think we’d lost it, that damn moccasin would come hissing up behind us and we’d take off again.” His dad snorted. “We must’ve looked like two country bumpkins tearing up the shore. Finally, we decided that son-of-a-bitch was the craziest snake in the south. It wasn’t going to stop attackin’ us, and it had enough venom to kill one of us, maybe both.”

  “Is there a point to this story?” Justin asked.

  “Snakes aren’t supposed to keep attackin’. If they sense danger, they’ll strike out to scare away the predator but, once the danger leaves, they go back to their business. That snake wouldn’t leave us alone, so I killed the damn thing with my pocketknife. Your uncle clobbered it with a tree branch, pinning its head down, and I sliced clear through its tiny brain. That was the last crazy snake I’ve ever run up on in my life.”

  “Ty was a man, not a reptile.”

  “You didn’t want to hurt him, but you did what you had to in order to protect someone you love.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

  “If it did, you’d be a cold bastard.”

  Justin ran his hands down his face. His ex-best friend had reached the breaking point. Of all the people in the world, he should’ve understood what it was like to go off the deep end. He’d watched his mom lose it, and he was always one shake from losing it himself. As soon as he knew Mandy was okay, his wrath should have calmed, and sympathy for Ty should have taken over, but it didn’t. Ty was dead because he was heartless.

  “I killed him, Pops. Nothing I can do is going to change that.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, son. He was that damn snake, comin’ at you.”

  Justin’s chin dipped to his chest, the guilt and horror of what he’d done eating him from the inside out. “I didn’t know I was capable of that kind of anger, Pops. And Mandy saw it all.” He splayed his palms on the sand and pushed himself to his knees. His body creaked and moaned with the effort, his ribs burning again. Damn, he hurt.

  He gritted his teeth and stood. “Christ, what if she thinks I could lose my temper with her like that?”

  “She knows better.”

  God, he hoped so. “I need to head to the hospital to get her.”

  “She’s out already. Said to tell you she’s stayin’ with her parents tonight.”

  “Then, I’ll head there.”

  Mitch rose quickly and grabbed Justin’s arm before he could take one step toward his car. “She wants to be alone.”

  Justin jerked his arm from his dad’s hold. “Jesus!”

  “She just needs a li’l time. Ain’t no reason to get bent outta shape over it.”

  “She needs time with me!” Justin shoved his hands into his pockets and paced a rut in the sand, every synapse in his brain firing at full throttle. If she didn’t want to see him, then he’d not only put a rift between them, he’d dug an abyss. How the hell was he going to bridge it?

  “You can’t fix everything, Justin. Sometimes people have to deal with things in their own way. If she needs a night away from you, give it to her.”

  All of the resentment from the last twenty years flooded over him, the anger, the hurt, and the rejection seething to the surface. He stopped pacing, ready to explode, his hands fisted at his sides, the veins on his arms popping through his tan skin. “My ex-best friend is dead because of me. My girlfriend, who should be my fiancée right now, doesn’t want me around. And now I’ve got my dad giving me a pep talk? Where the hell were you when I needed you? Why weren’t you telling me everything was going to be okay twenty years ago when Mom lost it?” He threw his hands in the air and snorted. “Oh, yeah. You were blaming me for killing your daughter. Well, guess what, Dad? Everything I touch gets fucked up! It started when I was ten, and it’s just the same shit tonight. I couldn’t save Cecelia, I couldn’t save Mom, and I sure as hell can’t bring Ty back.”

  “Ain’t none of it was your fault.”

  Justin straightened as the twine connecting them snapped. He jabbed a finger at his dad’s chest. “Leave your fuck-up son alone.”

  His dad opened his mouth to speak, but Justin jabbed him in the chest with more force, the tip of his finger digging into his sternum. “Just go back to Galveston where you belong, Pops. No one wants you here.” He stalked off toward his car, wishing the ocean would swallow his dad as it had Ty.

  With sudden fright, he glanced toward the beach, expecting another tidal wave to snatch his dad from the water’s edge. All remained calm, the gentle rushing of surf shuddering on the beach before receding peacefully into the ocean.

  Justin exhaled a loud breath and hurried away before his anger excited the water.

  * * *

  Mandy lay in her childhood bed as the sun rose higher over the city. She thought sleeping in the room where she’d found comfort since a child would ease her anguish, but the familiar oak furniture and pink heart bedspread hadn’t helped one bit.

  She rolled toward the brightening window and rubbed her face. It had to be close to mid-morning, and yet she hadn’t slept a wink. She took a deep breath and went motionless. Maybe if she lay still enough, she’d drift off.

  Slowly, her eyes closed, too heavy to stay open. Waiting for her on the other side was Justin, his eyes burning bright with rage, his arms outstretched, commanding a giant wave.

  Her stomach somersaulted, and she swallowed back the bile. She opened her eyes before the vision that had haunted her all night finished playing out. It always ended with Ty’s lifeless body lying on the sand, Justin leaning over him, closing Ty’s eyes with the tips of his thumbs, his expression a mixture of anguish and hate.

  She held her pillow as if the harder she clutched it, the easier she could control her tears. When the tears came anyway, she did what she’d done a hundred times since yesterday. She tried to rationalize Ty’s death.

  Scene by scene, she analyzed Justin’s actions. She understood why he’d lifted a wall of water the size of a house and slammed the wave into them. She understood why the onslaught of tidal waves continued until he knew she was okay. His fury consumed him.

  But once he’d known she was alive, why hadn’t he stopped? In the back of her mind, an awful possibility to
ok hold, gripping her heart and wringing it dry of blood. What if Justin had killed Ty on purpose?

  She clutched her pillow harder and squeezed her eyes shut. “Justin wouldn’t do that,” she whispered, and yet still the possibility held her in its grasp.

  “Can I come in?” her mom asked, peeking around the door.

  Mandy wiped her tears on the blanket before nodding.

  The bed jostled when her mom sat, and she ran a hand through Mandy’s tangled hair. “Are you okay?”

  Mandy stared down at the foot of the bed, hoping her mom wouldn’t notice her bloodshot eyes. “Not really.”

  Her mom took an agonizingly slow breath. “I hate bringing this up now, but Ty’s stepfather called.”

  Mandy stiffened, sure it was about Ty’s funeral. Why hadn’t she thought she’d be invited? Because Ty died yesterday, that’s why. She sank deeper into her sheets, realizing she was going to have to see Ty’s body again, and worse, pretend a freak wave had killed him.

  Her mom’s eyes tensed, but she continued. “They’re flying Ty’s body to Miami the day after tomorrow. The funeral’s the next day. His mom wants you there.”

  Mandy moaned. As miserable as she was, she couldn’t say no. She’d always liked Ty’s mom and, even if pretending Ty had died inexplicably zapped her last bit of sanity, she’d play the part for his family’s sake.

  “The doctor said we need to watch out for pneumonia. I can use that for an excuse if you don’t want to go.”

  “I have to go. It would mean a lot to Ty’s mom.” Ty’s mother had always been good to her. She’d even called crying when she found out Ty had left her. With no other children but Ty, Mandy’s presence at the funeral would be a comfort.

  “I’ll go with you, honey.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  Her mother cupped her cheek with one hand, a hint of unshed tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “I almost lost you yesterday.” Mandy could hear the unspoken word ‘again’ in her voice. “I want to spend that time with you. Unless you’d rather Justin go with you.”

  “No!” Mandy protested more harshly than she’d intended, but the thought of Justin at Ty’s funeral startled her. She lowered her tone before speaking again. “That’s too much to ask after all he’s been through the past month.” She ached to tell her mom the truth, but pulled away instead, curling her arms to her chest. No one would understand what had happened except Justin and his dad.

  Her mom stood, swiping moisture from her eyes. “Your cell phone’s on the coffee table. It’s been ringing nonstop all morning.”

  “That’s probably Justin.”

  “You two okay?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Mandy’s mom leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, her touch comforting. “You’ll work it out.”

  She hoped her mom was right but, in her gut, she knew they had a mountain to climb. Mandy pulled the covers over her head, nestling deep into the pillow. To her surprise, she finally fell asleep.

  She didn’t rouse until late that evening when her mom tugged down the comforter. Mandy squinted against the light of the lamp her mom had turned on. Her head ached, but she was thankful for the reprieve from her nightmare. A rip current had pulled her out to sea. All traces of land had disappeared, leaving her floating in a vast expanse of blue with no hope of being found. Mandy sighed a breath of relief that it’d only been a dream, until her mom held a phone to her ear.

  “Justin’s worried about you,” her mom whispered, with her hand over the receiver. “He came to the house earlier, but I told him you were sleeping. If you don’t talk to him, he’s just going to keep coming back.”

  Mandy wiped the sleep from her eyes and took the phone. She wasn’t ready to face Justin yet, but it seemed she couldn’t hide any longer. “Hello?”

  “I’ve called you a hundred times. Why haven’t you answered?” Justin asked, his tone strained.

  She sat up, the throbbing in her temple worsening. “Mom, I might need a little privacy for this conversation.”

  Her mom reluctantly inched for the door. When she finally closed it, Mandy said, “I haven’t called you back because I’m still in shock over what happened.”

  “That Ty’s dead, or that I killed him?”

  Mandy flinched. To hear Justin say aloud what he’d done hit her straight in the gut. “Both.”

  “I need to see you.”

  She bunched up a pink heart on her comforter and twisted the life from it. When she let it go, the fabric stayed warped, the heart lost in its folds.

  “Please talk to me, Mandy,” he begged.

  She could hear the desperation in his voice, and it made her hurt even more. “We’ll have to see each other tonight. Tomorrow, I’m leaving for Florida.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Ty’s funeral.”

  “Christ, Mandy. He tried to kill you. Why in the hell would you go?”

  She mashed her lips together, not expecting him to understand. “Because I owe it to his family.”

  “You don’t owe them anything.”

  “He was a person, Justin. Maybe he was sick and deluded, but people loved him.”

  “You loved him.” He spat out the word “loved” as if it were diseased.

  She clutched her chest, folding her hand against her heart. “Once upon a time.”

  “He tried to murder you,” he growled.

  “I know.” She leaned forward as a tear trickled down her cheek. It fell onto the comforter, turning the edge of a pale pink heart to a shade of wine. “You don’t have to keep reminding me.”

  “I think I do because now that he’s dead, you’re treating him like a martyr.”

  “No, I’m not!”

  Justin paused, his breathing loud enough to hear through the line. “Just come to my house so we can talk.”

  If they were going to get through it, it wasn’t going to happen over the phone. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  Chapter 23

  Mandy walked to Justin’s door, her feet dragging and her heart heavy. Instead of heading in as she always had before, she raised a hand and knocked, feeling as though she were standing in front of a stranger’s home. In reality, that wasn’t far from the truth. Guess that’s to be expected after your boyfriend kills your ex.

  Justin answered wearing track pants and no shirt. Dark circles framed by bags hung under his eyes, and his chin showed at least two days’ worth of stubble. As she stared at him, she flashed back to the beach, to the rage in his eyes and the boiling ocean. She swayed on her feet, the porch spinning, the world tilting.

  He reached out and caught her, palming the hollow below her ribcage. “You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday, have you?”

  She shook her head. He knew her too well. Her appetite was always the first thing to go when she was upset. Justin helped her into the house, easing her over the threshold. While they headed down the hall, she thought back to her last meal. Had the picnic on the beach really been her only sustenance in two days? Her mom had brought her cream cheese and crackers the day before, and even a bowl of soup, but she’d pushed them aside as if they were putrid. They’d smelled that way to her.

  Mandy groaned and pressed her hand to her stomach, her head woozier with every passing floor tile. “A few crackers might help.” She leaned heavily on him as he guided her to the kitchen table and settled her into a seat. She lowered her head and rested her cheek against the cool wood, wishing the room would stop spinning. Then suddenly, the kitchen wasn’t the only thing turning, so was her stomach.

  She jumped from her chair and raced to the bathroom, making it just in time to vomit in the toilet. Justin’s footsteps chased behind her. She grasped the toilet, hoping it’d keep her from spinning off the planet because her head was somewhere orbiting the earth.

  Another round of nausea rose, twisting her gut. She curled her back and retched bile, the bitter taste biting her tongue and stinging her nose.

  Justin pr
essed a cool, moist rag against her forehead. She grabbed the washcloth and wiped her mouth.

  “You okay?” he said, as he sat beside her, his eyes full of concern.

  Surprisingly, she was. Almost as fast as it had rushed in, the nausea rushed out, leaving a hollowness in her stomach. “I need food.”

  He tilted his head toward the toilet. “After that?”

  Instinct told her if she didn’t eat, she’d retch again. “Yes.”

  He helped her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist and hoisting her off the ground. She grabbed her toothbrush and did a quick once-over, before gargling with water and spitting. After she replaced the toothbrush in its holder, she headed for the kitchen with Justin beside her, staring down at her as if she’d grown a third eye.

  She studied him while he watched her, noticing the slight downturn to his mouth and the worry lines that had deepened since yesterday. His dark mood made her yearn to comfort him, but the empty gnawing in her stomach demanded all her attention, refusing to be ignored.

  God, she was thirsty. She headed straight for the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice. Without thinking, she opened it and chugged a quarter of the sweet liquid. How many times had she heckled Justin for doing the same thing? Right then, she just didn’t care.

  “Since when do you drink OJ?” Justin asked. “For that matter, since when do you drink from cartons?”

  “Since today.” She’d never tasted anything so wonderful in her life, which was odd, because she’d never particularly liked it before.

  Remembering her manners, she pulled a glass from the cupboard, not the little juice one, but the big pint, and filled it to the rim. She sat at the table while Justin tugged a sleeve of crackers from the pantry.

  “You got any cream cheese?” she asked.

  He headed to the fridge, opened the door, and shook his head.

  She caught a glimpse inside. “Butter will do.”

  He cocked a dark eyebrow. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “It’s nine o’clock at night, and I haven’t eaten since noon yesterday.”