Paradise by the Dashboard Light

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Paradise by the Dashboard Light Page 18

by Kathryn R. Biel


  My heart is about to burst with all of this love and warmth. And for a minute or two, I let myself believe that this is what I deserve and that this will be my family too. That I'll be able to shed my past and my family like a snake sheds its skin. My new life with my new family will be full of love and trust. I choose to ignore the simple fact I can't build a life of love and trust on a foundation of deceit and lies.

  "Rio, do you want something to drink? To eat? You must be tired. I can't believe you drove all this way!" Mrs. McCallister is going on and on, zipping about the kitchen. The cabinets are the same but appear to have been repainted. The counters look new, as does the tile on the floor.

  "The kitchen looks nice, Mrs. M. I like the floors and counters. Is that granite?" I run my hand along the smooth surface. Cold and polished. It's at odds with the warmth this domicile provides.

  "That was my Christmas gift a few years ago. David said we could re-do it. I said we were upgrading. Now I'm banned from watching HGTV." She laughs.

  "I'm heading over to see Evan. I'll be back in a bit." Ian emerges from the hall bathroom.

  "How are you getting there?" Mrs. McCallister asks. "Last I checked, you can't drive."

  If I close my eyes, we're sixteen again with Ian being reprimanded by his mother. Oh, if only it were still all that simple. I'd love the chance for a do-over. I know the one thing I'd change.

  "Oh, right. Ri, do you mind driving me over? Evan will get the biggest kick out of seeing you."

  I stand and arch my back a bit, feeling the stretch. "I'll drive you over, but I'll wait in the car. I don't want to infringe on your time with Evan here."

  Once back in the car, out of the glow of the McCallister home, the feelings start to creep up. My gaze darts from side to side as we drive through the streets of Cedarwood. I'm not looking for oncoming traffic. I'm holding my breath, praying I don't see them. Or better yet, that they don't see me. My knuckles whiten as I grip the steering wheel.

  I know what will happen if I run into them. I can practically feel the walls closing in. I'll never leave again, and I'll be just like them. I'll be miserable and looking to some man to provide my happiness. Which, of course will never happen, because happiness doesn't come from other people.

  Ian's babbling away, his energy level rising as quickly as mine is dropping. I'm thinking a nap in the car while Ian visits Evan would be just what the doctor ordered. Maybe when I wake up, I won't have such a bad feeling about this whole trip.

  

  Ian

  The smile on my brother's face makes the whole trip worthwhile. Evan's grinning from ear to ear, and I know my face mirrors that.

  "My room." He waves proudly. He has his own room, with a bright red comforter on the bed. Red was always his color, while I got blue. There are posters of Marvel characters on the wall, as well as figurines on his dresser. The space is very Evan. I know my parents were right in their decision to place him here. The house is clean but not sterile and devoid of personality. And for still being a bit sick, he seems so happy.

  He’s resting in a recliner, his brace propped next to the chair. I know we're not going anywhere, so I take a seat on the bed. I notice the bed height is a bit low, which is tough on my knee, but I'm sure works better for Evan.

  "Why are you walking funny?"

  I'm surprised Evan notices it. Sometimes he can be quite oblivious. "I had surgery on my knee this week." I could really use some ice right about now. Instead I rub my leg, trying to encourage the fluid building around my joint to disperse and not build up. It's not successful.

  "You're just like me now. Can I call you a gimp?"

  Part of my heart breaks because there's no way Evan should know that word, unless he'd heard it directed toward him.

  "How are you feeling? I heard you had a rough week."

  "I'm good."

  That's the thing. Evan is always good. I don't know if it's part of his cognitive limitations, or if he's just that positive. He's never been one to complain. On the other hand, it makes him an unreliable reporter as he won't—or can't—be honest about how his body is feeling. This is why he needs me.

  And I need him. For the first time in a very long time, with Rio waiting outside for me, and in here with Evan, I feel complete. I know now where my life is heading. I see it clear as day. All of the sacrifice over the past years have been worth it, to end up on this road with the destination just in the distance. It's a straight shot out from here.

  I can see Evan getting tired as we sit here and talk. I do most of the talking, telling him about things in Boston. I'm not sure what he is getting, as it's obvious he's falling asleep. I pull myself off his bed and shake his shoulder gently. "Time for bed-y bye, Buddy." I quote Dad's long-time phrase. Evan slowly rises, his gait significantly more unsteady without his brace on. I escort him to the bathroom and wait for him to go. Once back in his room, I tuck him in. I know he'll be asleep before I get to the front door. Being him, living in his body is so energy costly. Sleep's never been an issue for him. I used to lay in the twin bed across the room, worrying about everything. School, girls, was I smart enough to find a cure, would Evan be okay. Mostly about Evan though.

  I used to be jealous of the way Evan could drift off. I never knew until I was in med school that moving around for him, with his increased muscle tone that made his right limbs spastic, was physically exhausting. Also, some of his cognitive skills required more energy due to his brain damage. Living and doing as much as he does literally drains him. While it is in no way the same the process, med school and residency have led me to relate a little better to being so tired that sleep descends instantaneously.

  I stop and talk to Evan's caretakers for a minute or two, promising to be back in the morning. I want to take my brother to our favorite country restaurant. I can practically taste the biscuits and gravy. We don't have anything like that in Boston. I reach the car, stopping when I don't see Rio. The group home is in the middle of a residential street, so it's not convenient for her to have walked anywhere. The streets are not well lit, so I hope she's not aimlessly walking around in the dark.

  I open the passenger door and the movement in the back seat startles me.

  "Oh, Jesus, you scared me!" The last thing I was expecting was for her to be curled up in the back seat.

  Rio props up on her elbow, blinking through her sleepy eyes. "Sorry, I needed to sleep."

  She looks so sexy back there. I pull open the back door, gingerly squeezing myself through the opening. "Maybe it is time to reenact a little Paradise by the Dashboard Light." I grin. A pain shoots through my knee as I bend over her. Ignoring it, I lean down to kiss her. Her body shifts under mine, allowing me to press into her.

  Behind my closed eyes, a hazy image flashes into my mind. As Rio's lips welcome mine, I'm instantly brought back to another night, in the backseat of another car.

  I hadn't seen her all night, though I'd been searching. She'd promised me tonight was the night. I wasn't sure how or where, especially not at the party in the back fields behind Livingston's farm. But then I saw her, standing next to Terry Griggs's beat up Nissan. Normally, Rainne faced the world with a loud, in-your-face attitude of defiance, but tonight, her gaze was downcast. Maybe she was nervous? I certainly was. I took another shot of whiskey from the flask I'd swiped from my dad. As I approached her, she reached out for it and took a long hard pull herself. She opened the door and slid into the backseat.

  "Ian, I have to talk to you."

  I pushed a piece of hair off her face, my hand wandering down her jaw to her collarbone. The minute I touched her, it was like she became ignited. I could feel her hands as she pulled me to her. Her hair was everywhere, tangling in my hands and in my mouth. I kept trying to push it back but I swear she tipped her head so her hair fell forward. She tittered a nervous laugh that was so uncharacteristic for Rainne. Maybe she was as nervous as I was. I knew she'd been with other guys before, as I'd been with other girls. But this was our f
irst time together.

  It meant something.

  Her hands were on me, eager. She made the first real move, unbuttoning my jeans and lowering the zipper, freeing my raging erection. God, I needed her.

  "Ian, wait. I've ... I'm not who you think I am." Her hands stilled on my chest, causing me to pause.

  Once again, I pushed the hair out of her face, trying to see her. "It's okay. I know you."

  Her hands again became active, pulling me to her.

  As I sank into her, all I could think was that I wanted to be with her forever. As I climaxed, I whispered into her ear, "I love you, Rainne."

  I pull away and shake my head, trying to clear the images swimming through it. I can't be thinking about this now.

  "I know, we probably shouldn't be doing this in your brother's driveway." Rio's arms are still snaked around my back, holding me to her. "But on the other hand, there's something appealing about doing something so naughty."

  "I can't. I'm sorry." I'm out of the backseat and walking away from the car. I suck in the cool air, hoping to get these images out of my head. This is so messed up. I can't be thinking about one sister while I'm with the other. I probably should have considered that before having sex with them both.

  I hear the car door open and close a few times, so I know she's back in the front seat. I wish I could walk home, simply so I don't have to face her. I can't tell her I was thinking about Rainne. It will crush her. I know it's the one thing she fears with me, and I don't want to validate it.

  After one more deep breath that hurts more than it cleanses, I gingerly lower myself into the front passenger seat. Hell, even if it hadn't been for my messed up memories, gettin' busy in the back seat of a car is probably not within my best interest.

  She doesn't say anything, which is worse than if she'd lit into me. Finally, I can no longer take the silence. "I'm sorry."

  Rio continues to stare straight ahead, her face dimly illuminated by the dashboard lights. "It's okay," she says in a tone that distinctly indicates that it is not okay.

  I should tell her why, but I can't hurt her like that. "My knee isn't up for that kind of activity. It’s really starting to hurt."

  "Un-huh. Of course. You should get it elevated and get some ice on it." Her tone is so flat that it kills me. She doesn't believe me, and why should she? God, I can't believe one stupid night as a drunk teenager might be the thing that stands in the way of being with the woman of my dreams.

  Chapter 24

  Rio

  Driving Ian back to Cedarwood is certainly ranking on the list of the more stupid things I've ever done. Funny, almost everything on that list includes Ian. I usually consider myself to be moderately intelligent, but when it comes to him, I lose all my faculties apparently. Among the small things to be grateful for is the fact that Mrs. McCallister put me up in the guest bedroom, so there were no more awkward rejections doled out last night.

  Sore knee my ass.

  He didn't have to say anything. It’s plain as the nose on his face. My own stupid fault, really. As soon as he leaned in, I couldn't help myself. Being that close to him turns me into a hormonal animal apparently. But I knew what he was thinking, because our positions, our movements, were just like that night.

  But he was thinking about Rainne.

  I should thank God for small favors in that he stopped before he screwed me while picturing my sister.

  I know she was on his mind. I don't know how I could have been so foolish as to initiate something like that last night. What was I thinking? Let's face it; even if it wasn't in the driveway of his brother's home, even if he didn't have a bum knee, even if we hadn't driven all day, it was an incredibly stupid thing to do. How could he not think about that night?

  I don't need to go finding reasons—creating situations—that help us to fail as a couple. The deck is certainly stacked against us. He doesn't have time for a relationship. He's moving. He wants to end up back here. It would destroy him to find out I've been lying to him all this time and how I deceived him to begin with. The last part gives me pause.

  It truly would destroy him.

  It will.

  Which is why I don't want to tell him.

  Which is why I haven't told him.

  Which is why I'm not going to tell him.

  I want this to work. I want it more than I can say. When I'm with him, I'm happy. He makes me feel complete. Being with him is all I've ever wanted.

  I'm not ready to give that up, no matter what it costs me.

  There's a soft knock on my door. "Rio?"

  I open the door to Mrs. McCallister. "We're going to church in a bit. You're welcome to join us if you'd like, and then we're going out for breakfast after."

  Church was never something I did on a regular basis. Let's face it, the single, never-been-married-mom who was constantly shacking up with one dude or another isn't prime religious material. I always wished we did something so normal and tame.

  Something stable and socially acceptable.

  "If it's all the same, Mrs. McCallister, can I meet up with you after? I assume Ian wants to go to Country Kitchen? He mentioned it a few dozen times on the way out."

  She laughs. "Yes. It's where we take Evan each week anyway after church. How 'bout you meet us there about eleven?"

  I'm glad for the continued reprieve from Ian. I can picture the four of them sitting side-by-side in the shiny wood pews at St. Francis, the perfect image of a perfect family. The need to be included is a physical ache in my heart. And I haven't ever wished my family could be like that. It was always too farfetched to happen. I want, and will always want, to be a part of Ian's life and Ian's family.

  I don't really talk to Ian before they leave, instead seeking the shower as a way to avoid any more uncomfortable silences. Once the house is empty, I quickly set about getting ready for the day. I use the blow dryer Mrs. McCallister left for me to take some wetness out of my hair before giving up and braiding it into two braids. I don my skinny jeans and oversized ivory sweater, knowing it flatters my complexion. Just because I'm having a moral crisis about being with Ian doesn't mean I don't want him to want me.

  I'm so messed up.

  It's a good thing I didn't go to church with them; lightening would probably strike me on the way in.

  Whether I want to admit it or not, Ian McCallister is the only man I've ever considered a long-term future with. After I left Cedarwood, I'd resigned myself to the fact that we would never be together. It's a large factor in why I haven't looked for someone with whom to build a family or life.

  I'd rather be on my own without Ian than with anyone else.

  And now the thought of being without him guts me.

  A whirlwind of thoughts pounds through my head, practically giving me whiplash. Guilt, like a tidal wave, crashes though me.

  I need to end this; to be rid of him.

  I can't be without him.

  I'd rather be alone than with anyone else.

  I'll do anything to be with him.

  I have to be honest.

  Telling him will destroy him.

  I rock back and forth on the bed, each though assaulting me. There is no right answer for doing something so wrong.

  But in the end, I know, and a peace finally settles over me. I take a deep breath.

  He can never find out what I did. While I know I should tell him, if he knows how I've deceived him, he will leave me. I'll do anything to prevent that from happening.

  Bolstered by this decision, I head out the door, preparing to meet the McCallisters for breakfast and try to solidify my place in the family of my dreams. The gas light illuminates, so I stop for a fill up. I've still got about twenty minutes before breakfast, which gives me time to run into the Gas and Go for a cup of coffee.

  I'm adding milk and sugar when I hear the voice rise from the front of the store.

  "What do you mean my card is declined? You need to try again."

  The bored clerk responds, "Ma'am, it
says insufficient funds. Do you have another way to pay for your gas? Another card you can use?"

  "No, obviously I don't. I can't help it if my good-for-nothing exes don't pay child support on time. I count on that money going in my bank each month."

  Even though I know I should stay in the back of the store, out of sight, I can't help myself. Before I know it, my feet are propelling me to the front of the store. She looks horrible. Her hair is dry and frizzy, obviously over processed. Her dark roots fade into bleached and orange ends, my guess was for an ombre effect, but she hasn't kept it up. Her skin bears the unnatural tint of indoor tanning machines and years of cigarette smoking is starting to show in the lines around her eyes and mouth. She's put on weight as well. There'd be no switching places for us now. "How much? I'll cover it."

  The clerk tells me the amount, and I dig it out of my wallet.

  "I don't need your damn charity," Rainne hisses, not even looking at me.

  "You're welcome. Nice to see you're as grateful as ever. It's good to see you too."

  I turn and walk out, not looking back, fisting my hands to quiet their shaking. What the hell did I just do? More proof that being back here will only put me right back in the thick of things. This is the last complication I need right now ...

  "Why are you even here?" Rainne is hot on my heels.

  "I drove Ian here so he could visit Evan."

  "Ian? My Ian?"

  I open the car door and place the hot cup of coffee in the cup holder, if only so I'm not tempted to throw it at my sister. Turning to face her, stepping right into her trap. "No, my Ian."

  Ten seconds is all it took for her to have the upper hand. Basically, the story of my whole life.

 

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