by Marni Mann
Kyle’s favorite flower.
The first bouquet he gave me.
What he tucked behind my ear.
He sprinkled these around our picnic blanket.
I turned around and leaned my hips into the dresser. Holding the book against my chest, I crossed my arms around it. My eyes closed without effort.
***
“Flowers, Mom? Seriously?”
There were ingredients all over our kitchen. Sugar coated the counter and crunched on the floor under my bare feet. There was even a dusting of flour on the top of Bella’s nose. Mom was an excellent baker and insisted on making everything from scratch, but she wasn’t exactly clean and organized when she cooked. Since she had turned me into a neat freak, I knew I’d be cleaning it all up as soon as we were done.
“You know how much Daddy loves flowers.” When she referred to my father, her expression warmed, her lips pulling at the corners into a smile.
She stood in front of the island with a pastry bag of white frosting in her hand, delicately drawing tiny daisy petals over a base of chocolate frosting. We had made three dozen cupcakes, and each one was getting a different flower. Since my artistic ability didn’t extend beyond a computer mouse and Photoshop, Mom had given me a bag of green frosting to create the straight-lined stems.
“But he’s surrounded by flowers all day,” I said. “Are you sure he’ll want to eat them, too?”
Not that he would be eating actual flowers. I was just surprised he wouldn’t want a more masculine decoration, like the Gators logo or a Bucs helmet. Year after year, his dessert was always flower-themed. I didn’t understand why he didn’t get tired of it.
“I’m sure, baby girl. Flowers are what brought your daddy and me together. His birthday falls around the same time of the year that we met in Maine, so he likes to celebrate the two together.”
I knew the story. They liked to tell it on their anniversary every year. I definitely didn’t need to hear it again over cupcake decorating. But knowing my mom, she was going to tell me anyway.
“You know what your daddy gave me on our first date?”
The question surprised me as it was a part of the story I hadn’t heard. I lifted my head to meet her eyes. “No…what?”
“A botanical dictionary.”
I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. That was so typical of my father, giving her something that related to flowers. It was a good thing that she found him so attractive because the man had no game.
“I know…it sounds funny.” She was still smiling as she spoke. “It was a really thoughtful gift. He had marked some of the pages and said he was going to incorporate those flowers into future dates of ours. And he did, too.” She looked down at her wedding band and twirled it around her finger. “When your daddy and I got engaged, he couldn’t afford a ring. At the time we were just starting the landscaping business and we were investing all the money right back into it. So instead of a diamond, he wrapped a daisy around my ring finger and promised he would replace it. I never let him. That flower meant more to me than anything that sparkled.” She glanced back up, and her eyes were filled with tears. I knew they were happy ones. “I hope you find a man who’s as amazing as your daddy.”
***
I shook my head, trying to push the memory away. Tucking the dictionary under my arm, I opened the top drawer of her dresser; it was filled with panties. The next held socks and T-shirts; shorts and tank tops were in the bottom drawer. I searched under each of the piles, between them and in the back of the drawers, looking for something other than clothes—a sign, a hint, a memento…anything. I did the same in the closet, searching the rack, under her bed, and in her nightstand. There was nothing. I halted in front of her bookshelf and pulled each book out separately, flipping through the pages. Nothing fell out of them.
If there was something in here, it wanted to stay hidden. Or maybe it had already been removed.
Or maybe I just didn’t know what I was looking for.
I moved to the doorway and leaned against the frame, my eyes scanning the room as a whole. Now that I had touched her jewelry, viewed the faces of the musicians who covered her walls, read the titles of her books, and saw the type of clothes she wore, I could get a sense of the girl Shane had described: the loud, rebellious teenager who made a statement with her hair and her voice. But the woman who was my mom wasn’t like that at all; she was subtle, passionate, and extremely patient. When she hugged me, she wrapped her whole body around me as though she were trying to cover every inch, and she whispered love in my ear.
I knew her better than Shane did.
And I knew my father, the gardener, wasn’t what had driven her out of this house, and it wasn’t because she didn’t want to follow her parents’ rules, either.
But maybe there was something about her that neither of us knew.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I SLID INTO THE FRONT SEAT OF BRADY’S TRUCK and put on my seatbelt. Metal music played softly in the background and his thumb tapped the steering wheel to the beat. He smelled of cologne and cinnamon gum, which were cleaner scents than the sawdust and paint he had reeked of earlier. He was dressed a lot nicer, too, in dark jeans and a button-down, and a less-worn pair of boots. He had a wool hat pulled low over his head.
I pointed to the gun rack on the back of the truck. “Do you hunt?”
He glanced over his shoulder, looking out the rear window. “Just deer. Don’t have a moose license yet.”
Just deer? Maine felt like a completely different country. The guys in Sarasota didn’t hunt. They didn’t really drive trucks, either, especially not the size of Brady’s, where I practically needed a stepladder to get in. And even if there was a need to wear flannel in Florida—which there never would be with our weather—it wasn’t a fabric that would ever touch their skin. But somehow, Saint and Brady made flannel look sexy. Polished and pretty wouldn’t have been a good fit for them.
“I’ll also bring it out if someone tries to touch you at the party,” he added. He quickly shot me a look, a smirk that was also mixed with a bit of seriousness. He really did seem protective of me. His eyes went back to the road and his hand went to his nose, rubbing it until it turned red.
“Allergies?” I asked.
“Yeah…” he said, sniffling. “You feel uncomfortable at that house, you let me know.” He proved his protectiveness to me when he had voiced his concern about Saint.
“Should I be afraid?”
He gripped the top of the steering wheel and leaned back into the seat a little more. “Boys can get a little rowdy at times. That’s all.”
Those were the types of boys I’d been attracted to in college—the rowdy ones…the ones who chose beer and their friends and everything else over me. Had that been the worst thing The Ex had done, I could have dealt with it. But there were other girls, too. And then there were the layers of lies. Guys like The Ex couldn’t be converted; they were just incapable of having anything that resembled normal. That was why I hadn’t given David a relationship or anyone else since I’d graduated. And since my parents’ death, those feelings had only strengthened. I didn’t want to answer to anyone, to explain the darkness I saw in my head or the screams that filled my ears, or to justify the beating my body took in the water. The people who really loved me had lied to me my whole life. I could only imagine that anyone else I got close to would probably do the same.
“Whose house are we going to?” I asked.
I didn’t really care. And I didn’t really focus on his response which included how he knew the host and everyone else who was going to be there. I just got lost in his noise. And when it was time to introduce me to his friends, the names flew right past my ears once again. In a basement full of flannel, most of the guys looked the same, anyway. Maybe it just didn’t matter what they looked like because…
Why am I wishing that Saint was here?
As quickly as the thought entered, I pushed it out of my head. I didn’t need his silen
ce. I had it already; it was in the red plastic cup that I held in my hands and the amber liquid that Brady kept filling it with.
There had to be over forty people in this basement, and they all acted so familiar with each other. Some were playing beer pong; others were talking in groups. Music blasted through a set of portable speakers. The air was filled with the scent of beer and smoke—from cigarettes, and from the joints and metal pipes that were being passed around. I’d smoked pot in college. Even though I had never bought a bag, if weed was around I usually didn’t refuse it. However tonight, I made a point to hit every joint and bowl that came anywhere close to me.
After several puffs, a warm cloud moved down my throat and spread through my chest like a thick haze. With it came a lightness. It was similar to the way I felt in the water, tranquil and fluid, my unbound body floating over the waves like a buoy. It wasn’t hard to breathe. My muscles relaxed into the beat, my shoulders dipped, my hips swayed.
“Let me get you another drink,” Brady said in my ear.
We were in the center of the basement. I didn’t know how long we’d been standing in this spot, but the ground was definitely under my feet. It was the only reminder that I was actually standing since the rest of me felt as if I was bobbing in the air. I hadn’t been this buzzed since the parties I’d gone to right before graduation and the weed only intensified everything. While I was in college, I really only drank on the weekends and since my parents’ death I hadn’t touched it at all. Had I known it would have relaxed me this much, I wouldn’t have waited.
“Drew?” I heard someone say.
My eyes briefly scanned the space to my right. I wasn’t in a rush to find the source. My movements were slow. My thoughts were delayed. Everything felt good—there was no reason to disrupt that.
“I’m so glad you decided to come with Brady,” the girl said.
I glanced to the left and met a body. Gradually, my stare rose up her chest, to her neck and finally stopped on her face. “Rae?” Her smile was back and it was really wide. “Hi, honey,” I said.
Honey?
That wasn’t something I ever said. But I went with it…and then I took a step closer and wrapped my arms around her neck. Not only was I using words I never usually said, but I was hugging people I barely knew. She was so warm, and her smile was causing my lips to extend like hers.
The smile—the one she wore at the Trap House. The one that made her face glow, but it didn’t hide the pain in her eyes.
Pain that felt as strong as mine.
But not right now. Right now, I felt…nothing.
“Having fun?” she asked, gently pulling out of my arms.
“Brady thought I needed to get out,” I shouted over the music. “He was so right. This place…” I paused. Was this house fun or was the fun running through my body? “Yeah, so much fun. You know Brady?”
With her unscarred cheek pointed toward me, she laughed. A thin stream of smoke spiraled around her head. “He’s my best friend.”
My eyes moved down to her hand, fixating on the joint she was holding as I followed it back up to her lips. It smelled so good…I wanted to gulp the air. So I did. And then I swallowed it. And when she handed it to me, I sucked until my lungs were filled. I coughed.
Brady had taken my cup, so Rae offered me hers and I chugged until it was all gone. My throat was so rough and scratchy from the smoke that the freezing liquor numbed it.
“Someone likes our Maine herb, huh?” a guy said, moving in between Rae and me “You better slow down there, pretty. This shit ain’t nothing like that brick you have in the south.”
A hand touched my side, just under my ribs. Rae’s hands were both in front of her so it had to have been his. I looked over at him, squinting from the neon overhead light and the clouds of smoke that burned my eyes. He didn’t look familiar, though no one did besides Rae and Brady. He was just another flannel who had chosen navy as his shade and topped off the look with a Patriots hat in the same color.
“Hey…how do you know I’m from the south?” I asked.
“You’re new blood.” His eyes stopped at my lips, then traveled to my breasts. “Everyone knows who you are.”
“So you think all we’ve got in the south is brick weed?”
“I don’t think, I know.” His hand moved to my hip, and he pulled me closer. He was about the same height and build as Saint. The thought turned me even toastier. “Like my boy Brady, I know my weed.”
I was still holding Rae’s joint as he slipped it out of my fingers and took a drag. When his cheeks were full, he leaned his head down and clipped my face between his palms. With his lips only inches from mine, he emptied his smoke straight into my mouth. Numbness swept through me as fast as his breath. But with him holding me, I knew I wouldn’t fall. His strength was almost as present as Saint’s.
“Brady is hardly your boy,” Rae said. I’d forgotten she was still nearby. Her fingers suddenly cuffed the top of my arm. “Come on, Drew…I want to show you something.”
I heard what she said and I recognized the urgency in her voice. My mind just didn’t know what to do about it. My feet felt so heavy. My legs didn’t want to move, and Hat Boy was so comfortable to lean against.
“Don’t listen to Rae,” he said, “she ain’t got nothing to show you.” One of his hands clamped my ass. “Everything you need is right here.”
“No,” Rae said a little louder, “I definitely think she needs to come with me.”
Even though everything inside my head was covered in a thick fog, I knew I didn’t want his hand on my ass. It didn’t feel right. And when I opened my mouth to tell him, Brady appeared at my side. He looked furious.
“You okay?” Brady asked me.
It took a second before I nodded.
“Do you want his hands on you?”
“No,” I pleaded.
“Let go of her, Gabe,” Brady said. “Right now.” He was holding two cups of beer and he handed both to Rae. Once his hands were empty, they turned into fists and dropped to his sides.
“Who the fuck are you to ask me—”
“I’m not asking you,” Brady shouted, interrupting him.
Hat Boy still held me against him, despite me trying to wiggle away. “What are you going to do, Brady? You gonna beat me up in front of this pretty girl?”
“If that’s what it takes to get you to let her go.”
Hat Boy’s hand tightened on my ass and I yelped.
That one little sound from my mouth caused complete chaos. At first, Hat Boy pulled me against his chest and tucked his arm around the back of my head so there was no space between our bodies. But that only lasted a few seconds before Brady yanked me away and moved me behind him. Brady’s body had become a shield. My shield. Rae then appeared at my side and latched onto my arm.
My head was so cloudy.
“Rae, is she okay?” Brady asked. He spoke over his shoulder as his back still faced us.
“Yes,” I said to her or him or to anyone else who was listening since a circle had formed around us.
The small windows near the ceiling were all open and a draft was coming in. It didn’t help with the smoke, but it gave me a tiny bit of freezing freshness to inhale. Maine was so cold.
“Get her out of here,” Brady said.
The two boys were having a full on stare down. Brady’s feet were bouncing, his fingers were clenching and releasing. The guys behind him were encouraging him to release a punch. A few on Hat Boy’s side were saying the same thing.
“It’s going to get bad,” Rae whispered. “Really bad. We’ve got to go.” She put her arm around me and I leaned into her, scanning the faces that moved closer to us. The room suddenly felt smaller as the circle around us tightened.
“You’re a piece of shit,” I heard one of the guys yell. I wasn’t sure who it came from…there were so many more voices now and we were trying to move away from them. Someone hit my shoulder. I heard something rip behind me. There was even a snap li
ke the cracking of leather.
“This is stupid,” I said, trying to stop her in the middle of the stairs. “I can’t let them fight. Not over me.”
“This has been brewing between them for a long time,” she said once we reached the top. I tried to pull away, turn around and go back down the stairs. “No way, you’re coming with me.”
Where did Brady want her to take me? I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay…where the booze dimmed the sounds and the weed calmed the anxiety. Where I didn’t have to think about my parents. Where I wasn’t reminded of all the lies. I definitely didn’t want to go back to the Coswells’ house.
The kitchen flew past me, as did a sitting room. Suddenly, we were outside and my feet were crushing leaves. There was more freshness out here. Even colder freshness. I could see my breath. I could see Rae’s, too. Hers was prettier than mine.
“Please get in,” she said, holding a car door open for me.
“Where are you taking me?” I held the roof and carefully stepped in so I wouldn’t fall.
“Home.”
“No!” I didn’t mean for it to come out so loudly. I just hated that word. The Coswells’ house wasn’t home. I had no home. “Let’s go to a bar.”
“None of them are open. Everything here closes at one.”
I looked down at my hand, but it was too dark to read the time on my watch. “How about another party?”
She started the engine and backed out of the driveway. “This was the only one going on tonight.”
“Can we go somewhere else?”
“Nowhere else to go, I’m afraid.” When she turned toward me, there was no longer a smile on her lips. The streetlamp illuminated her scar. It looked like a labyrinth…and I wanted to get lost in it. So lost that in the process, I would forget myself. No murdered parents, no suddenly found family, no Drew. “I have to open the restaurant in the morning, so I really better take you home.”