“Having sex with him? No. But she’s gaga over the guy, and I’m afraid he’ll take advantage if she’s not careful.”
“I thought she wasn’t supposed to be seeing him.”
“She’s not, but they still see each other in the corridor at school. It’s kind of hard to prevent that, unless one of them moves to a different school. And that’s not about to happen.”
“But her parents are keeping a close eye on her, right?”
“Yeah. It doesn’t make Beth very happy, either, knowing that she can’t even flirt with Alex in the corridor between classes, because her dad might come around the corner any minute.”
“That would be inconvenient, having a dad who’s the high school principal.”
The mall was quiet for a Saturday afternoon. Probably a lot of people, taking advantage of the beautiful summer weather, had gone to the beach. Paige and Emma wandered through Pac Sun, Spencer’s, Hot Topic. “What about you?” she asked as they thumbed through tee shirts at Hot Topic. “Are you boy crazy?”
“Not really.” Emma pulled a white Led Zeppelin tee shirt from the stack, shook it open, and examined it. “I mean, what’s the point? I’m thirteen. Dad won’t let me date for another three years. Or until Hell freezes over, whichever comes last. There’s no point in getting all psyched up over something that’s not even going to happen.” She folded the shirt back up. Neatly. She clearly hadn’t inherited her neatness gene from Dad. “Besides, I haven’t met one guy I’d even want to hang out with. Well, except for Todd, but he’s not a boyfriend kind of guy. He’s a boy, and he’s a friend, but I’m not interested in him that way.”
“Smart girl.”
They were settled at a table in the food court when Emma eyed her over the rim of her chocolate shake and said, “What about you?”
“Me? What about me?”
“Well…” Emma stirred the shake with her straw, then took a long sip. “I’m not usually one to gossip, but…the word around town is this. Mikey and Amy just split up. You and Ryan just split up. And you’ve been spending a lot of time with Mikey.”
Her face went hot. Since when did a thirteen-year-old possess the capability to embarrass her? “There’s nothing going on between Mikey and me.”
“Good Lord, you’re blushing. Almost thirty years old, and you’re blushing. Spill.”
“I’m not blushing. It’s just hot in here.”
Emma raised both eyebrows, looking so much like her mother that it was scary. “Really,” she said. “Do you think I’m that naïve?”
“How do you know these things?”
“I’m my mother’s daughter. I’ve been psychic since birth. Besides, I know you drove him to the hospital the day he got hurt. And you took him kayaking.”
How many other citizens of this fine town also knew all her business? “It’s complicated.”
Emma propped that pretty little chin in her hands and said, “So you admit there’s something going on?”
“No. There’s isn’t. At least…oh, shit.”
“Oh, shit, what?”
“You do realize that Dad would ground you if he heard you using that kind of language?”
“He talks that way, so why shouldn’t I?”
“He’s fifty years old. You’re thirteen.”
“Come on. Tell me. Are you and Mikey doing the wild thing?”
Paige closed her eyes and counted to ten. Opened them again. “No. We are not doing the wild thing.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know.”
Emma’s innocent young eyes were looking at her with curiosity, but also with compassion. She was thirteen years old and didn’t know anything about guys. She’d never even been on a date. It would be ridiculous to talk to her about this thing that Paige couldn’t even name.
“I didn’t come here looking for this,” Paige said. “You know? Hell, I don’t even know what ‘this’ is. Nothing’s happened between us. Yet.” She remembered the eye contact between them the other night, and shivered. “But it feels like something’s about to happen. And I want to turn around and run as far and as fast as I can. At the same time, I want to rip off his clothes, and—” She realized who she was talking to, and stopped abruptly. Emma said nothing, just continued to look at her. “I don’t do casual sex,” she continued. “I never did. But the whole idea of a real relationship is impossible. And crazy. We live different lives. Three thousand miles apart. We tried the relationship thing years ago. Twice. It didn’t work out either time.” Playing with the straw in her untouched soda, she said, “Ry broke my heart. So why is it that I can barely remember what he looks like?”
“He wasn’t your soul mate.”
“I don’t believe in soul mates.”
“I do,” Emma said, with such conviction that a chill ran through her. “Maybe the two of you are destined to be together.”
“I’m sorry, kid, but that’s junior high school logic. I haven’t believed in destiny for a long, long time.”
“Maybe,” Emma said, “it’s time you started believing.” And she ducked her head to drink the rest of her shake.
“Destiny?” Paige said, more to herself than to Emma.
Her sister took her mouth away from the straw. “I think he’s sad,” she said, “and very lonely. I think you’d be good for each other.”
“But—I thought you really liked Amy.”
“I do like Amy. He didn’t like Amy. He wasn’t in love with her. It wasn’t meant to last. Has it occurred to you that maybe she was just a placeholder? That he was biding his time? Waiting for you?”
“Jesus Christ on a Popsicle stick. How old did you say you were?”
Emma’s grin was impish. “You’re welcome,” she said.
* * *
AFTER DINNER, SHE went for a run.
Ear buds in place, she ran to the rhythm of the music while she contemplated Emma’s words. It was a ridiculous concept, soul mates. One that, as a pragmatic person, she’d never given much thought to. She didn’t believe in all that woo-woo stuff. Yet it did seem peculiar that by some odd twist of fate, they’d both come back to Jackson Falls at this particular moment in time. Both of them damaged, both of them lost, both of them in need of saving. Coincidence? Or the universe trying to tell them something? Nudging them in a certain direction, one neither of them had foreseen?
No. The entire concept was too creepy to contemplate.
Besides, even if she was willing—and she wasn’t entirely sure she was—Mikey wasn’t ready. It was clear as day that he had major issues he needed to work out. And she wasn’t sure she could handle having her heart broken again. Because that’s what would happen. They’ll just break your heart and walk away. How many times had she heard her mother say that? On her deathbed, she’d told Paige, “You have to be strong, baby. You have to be independent. Capable of taking care of yourself. Because men leave. The only person you can always depend on is you.”
She’d taken those words to heart, had become strong and independent. That was why she’d never put Ry’s name on the deed to her house. Why they’d never held a joint bank account. Why, if she wanted to be honest with herself, she’d put him off every time he talked about setting a wedding date. Relationships had a nasty habit of not working out. She’d made sure she was prepared at all times to support herself, to maintain a roof over her head, to put food on the table. To be the person making all the decisions about her own career. And it was a good thing she had. Look at how that relationship had turned out.
So far, her experience had pretty much mirrored her mom’s. Sandy had been unlucky in love, and it had colored her life. If she believed what Sandy had told her again and again, she was doomed to heartbreak just by virtue of being female.
But one small, niggling doubt wouldn’t leave her alone: What if Mom was wrong?
Not all relationships went down in flames. Look at Dad and Casey. They’d been rocking monogamy for nearly two decades. Nobody was walking away from that relationsh
ip. Mom had been wrong about him. Yes, Dad had left. But there was more to the story, and after all these years, Paige still didn’t understand why her mother had lied to her. He didn’t want you. He didn’t want us. We’re better off without him. Was Mom afraid he’d try to take Paige away if he knew about her? Was that why she’d never told him he had a daughter?
She’d grown up believing her mother’s words, believing that Rob MacKenzie had walked away from them because he didn’t want to be a father. She’d grown up hating him because he’d put his career first and refused to be saddled with a kid. She hadn’t learned the truth until after Sandy died. Dad might have walked away from Sandy, but he hadn’t walked away from his daughter. Because, until she was fifteen years old, he hadn’t known she existed.
There were so many flaws in Mom’s belief system. Cracks, some of them so big she could have driven an eighteen-wheeler through them. Where had those flawed beliefs come from? Paige’s grandparents were divorced. Could Sandy be reacting to not just her own experience, but that of her mother?
Maybe it was up to Paige to break that streak of bad luck that had haunted several generations of Sainsbury women.
Dangerous thinking. That kind of thinking led to hope, and hope led to all kinds of complications. It was much easier, and much less risky, to be the one to walk away. Get out while she still could, before she did something incredibly stupid that would haunt both of them for the rest of their lives. There was too much baggage between them. Too much history. Iraq had screwed with his head. Ryan had screwed with hers. Together, she and Mikey Lindstrom would be a disaster.
Good. Glad we got that settled. As she passed Uncle Harley’s farm, she accelerated her pace. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot, until her breath came hard and she wondered just what she was running from.
MIKEY
HE FOLLOWED THE sound of clicking keys to the dining room. Wire-rimmed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, Jesse Lindstrom hunched over his laptop at the antique wooden table. His father glanced up, saw him. Smoothly closing the cover to the laptop, Jesse pulled the glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “Hi,” he said. “I’m surprised to see you on a week night.”
“Hi, Dad. Is Beth here?”
“In her room. Sulking. I’d never say this if Rose wasn’t out in the studio, but she has a lot of her mother in her.”
It was true. Rose was fierce, opinionated, and hot-tempered, and her daughter had inherited all those traits. She may have taken her looks from Jesse, but that was where the resemblance ended. She was Rose MacKenzie’s daughter, through and through.
Early-evening sun slanted through the fanlight over the front door as he climbed the carpeted stairs to the second floor. He knocked twice, waited for the expected put-upon, “What?”
“It’s me,” he said. “Can I come in?”
A long pause. Then, “Whatever.”
He cracked the door open and stepped inside the room. His sister lay on her stomach diagonally across the bed, earbuds in her ears and a book in her hands. Without looking up at him, she said, “What do you want?”
“I want to talk to you. Can I sit?”
Still avoiding eye contact, she shrugged. He sat down beside her. “Thanks so much,” she said, “for getting me into trouble with Mom and Dad.”
“I didn’t get you into trouble, Beth. You got yourself into trouble.”
She pulled out the earbuds and dropped the book to the floor. “You didn’t have to tell them!”
“Of course I did. I’m a cop. What was I supposed to do?”
“Yeah? Well, you’re not a very good cop!”
“You know what? You’re right.” He was an adequate officer of the law, nothing more. His heart wasn’t in it. Never had been. The job was an opportunity that had fallen into his lap, and he’d taken it because, really, what the hell else was he supposed to do in this hick town?
At some point in time, somebody had wallpapered the room, an old-fashioned print with a white background and tiny yellow flowers. Frilly white curtains danced lazily in the breeze from the open window. Photos of her friends circled the dresser mirror. The dresser itself was painted a sunny lemon yellow. On the wall hung an enormous poster of the latest flavor-of-the-week boy band. He was getting old; he had no idea who they were.
“This used to be my room,” he said. “You were in that little room down at the end of the hall. You probably don’t remember that.”
The hostility on her face didn’t lessen. “I used to sit in the rocking chair and read to you,” he said. “Every night, before bedtime. We’d look at the pictures of all the animals, and you’d tell me what they were. You were the funniest little thing. You loved to talk, but what came out of your mouth sounded like gibberish. It’s weird, the little things you remember.”
“You’re welcome to your fond reminiscences, but it doesn’t change a thing. I’m still mad at you.”
“The thing is, Beth—” He glanced over to see if she was listening. She was pretending she didn’t give a damn, but it was an act. “When I enlisted—when I went off to the Marines—I did it for you.”
She snorted. “I’m supposed to believe that?”
“It’s true. For you, and Dad, and your mom and mine. For Aunt Casey and Aunt Trish and everybody else I loved. I wanted to keep you safe, and that was the best way I knew to do it. I loved you so much. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. My baby sister. But I knew that if what I was doing made one day of your life safer than the day before, it was worth the sacrifice. I believed that with all my heart. I still believe it. Because you—and all the others, but especially you—were the most important thing in my life. And I could never let anything happen to you.”
The sound of a barking dog carried on the breeze from across the river. “So that’s why I had to tell Dad and Rose about you riding in the car with Alex Washburn. Because I still love you more than anything, even though you’re an obnoxious teenager. I know that in a few years, you’ll turn back into a regular human being.”
“You can’t protect me forever, Mikey. I’m practically grown up. I have to make my own mistakes.”
In a way, she was right. At some point when he wasn’t paying attention, his baby sister had turned into a young woman. What had happened to the little girl with the messy blond pigtails, the one who’d followed him around like a stray dog every time he’d been home on leave? “You do have to make your own mistakes,” he said. “We all do. It’s how we grow up. But some mistakes are bigger than others, and that’s why you have me. And your mom and dad. To help you make smart choices. Because making the wrong choices can have devastating results. You understand what I’m saying?”
“I understand, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Right now, I don’t much like you. You’re my brother, and I love you, but I don’t like you.”
Her words cut him to the quick. “Do you really think that’s fair?”
“I don’t know. Do you really think it’s fair that you broke up with Amy?”
“It wasn’t working. We were a bad fit.” Why had he stayed with Amy for so long? Was it loneliness? Boredom? A lack of self-respect that yawned like the Grand Canyon?
“She was like a big sister to me. I really thought you’d marry her.”
“I’m not marrying her. We’re done. But she can still be your friend. That doesn’t have to change. She likes you.”
“She does?”
“Of course she does. Everybody likes you, Bethie. She told me she was hoping you’d join the Drama Club next school year.”
Ducking her head, Beth said, “We’ll see.”
“You should give it a try. I think you’d be good at it.”
She picked her book up, tucked the earbuds back in her ears. “Whatever. You can leave now.” And turned her back on him.
It was a clear dismissal, cold and cutting. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it as he realized the futility of arguing with her. Instead, he got up from the bed. And left.<
br />
PAIGE
HIGHLY ENTERTAINED BY the frenzied circus of last-minute preparations for shipping her little brother off to summer camp, Paige poured ketchup over her scrambled eggs, leaned over her plate, and dug into her breakfast.
“Are you sure you have everything?” Casey said to her son. “A spare pair of sneakers, clean underwear, bug spray, calamine lotion, your toothbrush? Especially your toothbrush.”
“Geez, Mom.” Reddening, Davey aimed a sidewise glance at his big sister. “Do we have to talk about underwear?”
“Not as long as you’ve packed enough of it to get you through.”
“I’ll only be gone for two weeks. I don’t need to pack for a year.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass to your mother,” Rob said, closing the refrigerator door.
Emma chirped, “I can’t wait for him to be gone. Two whole weeks without his big mouth. It’ll be heaven.”
“That’s not very nice,” her mother scolded.
“Maybe not. But it’s true.”
Davey swatted at his sister. She giggled and sidestepped before he could make contact. “Watch it!” Rob said, doing an awkward dance as he balanced a glass of orange juice above his head.
“Hug,” Casey said, opening her arms.
Davey rolled his eyes, but Paige thought she detected a little insecurity hidden beneath his veneer of manly bravado. He might talk a good story, but leaving the mother who doted on him had to be a mixed blessing. Davey allowed his mom to fawn over him, then he stepped away and shouldered his backpack.
“Come on, Dad,” he said. “Let’s go! We have to be there by ten. I don’t want to be late!”
While Rob drained his orange juice, Paige set down her fork and beckoned to her baby brother. She tapped her cheek and said, “Kiss for the big sister.”
Davey complied. Then, to her surprise, he threw his arms around her and squeezed so hard she almost lost her breath. Davey stepped back and, eyes downcast to cover his mortification over his entire family witnessing the touchy-feely moment, said brusquely, “See you.”
Face the Music: Beyond Jackson Falls Book 1 Page 22