by Dawn Atkins
“For what it’s worth, no therapist will tell you you’re a screwup. They usually leave that up to you.”
David smiled at the joke. After saying all that he felt lighter inside, not as angry as usual. Marcus hadn’t given him any attitude, just the facts. Cut and dried. He liked that.
And Marcus had a point. If David did his homework and stopped fighting with her, Christine might chill out and he’d have more freedom to figure out how to get to Brigitte.
CHAPTER SIX
CHRISTINE SET THE LAST load of bowls on the drying shelf. Mitch and Louis and two new part-timers from town were helping Lucy build the extra kiln shelves to accommodate the larger orders Christine had coming in.
Christine rubbed her lower back, not really minding how sore she was. Physical labor was rewarding. And she enjoyed working with her hands. Her first attempts with clay had failed miserably, but she’d been practicing at the wheel during breaks and she was definitely improving.
She looked at the four goblets she’d thrown and grinned. She couldn’t wait to see how they’d look glazed. Aurora had even said they were decent—right before she demanded that Christine write up a full and complete procedures manual before she even thought about leaving. The biggest proof that Aurora was on the mend would be when she stopped cooking up tasks to keep Christine at Harmony House longer.
Christine stepped to the barn door to get some fresh air and noticed Marcus and David together in the garden. This must be the first “talk.” She felt a spike of excitement.
Watching Marcus tilt his head to listen to David, then laugh, made something in Christine’s chest go loose and tight at once. It was as though she had a partner, someone who understood her struggle, something that as a single mother she’d never experienced. These were only informal chats, but still…
Christine couldn’t stop thinking about being in Marcus’s room the other night. She’d basically clung to the man. The only thing that relieved her embarrassment was how tightly he’d held on to her. She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d been.
For that blip of time, she’d felt how it might be to be truly intimate with a man, to open her heart, to share the daily joys and sorrows, to trust him, depend on him, and to let him know he could trust and depend on her.
She definitely saw the appeal. It was stupid to deny that deep down she wanted that. Even if she found a decent guy, she’d probably foul it up. She was a flawed pain in the ass, intense, emotional, in your face. It would take a special man—sturdy and calm, with a generous and patient heart—to put up with her for very long. Men like that didn’t grow on trees.
Hell, would she even know one when she saw him?
She looked out at Marcus, remembering his strong arms around her. He’d smelled of sweet lime, fresh laundry and a woodsy spice. He had some of those traits she needed, but he was so…uptight. She’d practically had to torture him to get him to tell her what had happened to him. She would drive him nuts for sure. And who wanted to work that hard anyway?
What was she doing? Thinking about getting with Marcus? She practically laughed out loud. Talk about counting your chickens before they hatched. That was like counting your chickens before you had a rooster in the coop.
Still, it was lovely to watch him talk with her son. He gave her hope. Way better than a relationship. Right?
DAVID TOOK ONE LOOK at Todd and Robert Barlow’s room with the matching plaid bedspreads, NBA and NFL posters, chessboard and sports trophies and wanted to get the hell out of there. These preppy jocks were from a galaxy far, far away.
He was appeasing Christine, though, part of his plan to get her off his back, so he’d gut out the evening and hope the food was at least good. He dropped into one of the desk chairs.
Todd, who seemed to be lead dog on the team, said, “So, David, got any bud?”
Huh? “You two smoke?” he asked.
They sneered, like duh, but he didn’t buy it. “We figured you’d have killer weed from the commune.”
“Sorry.” He had an emergency joint in his pocket, but he wouldn’t get these two stoned in front of their parents in a million years.
Their faces fell. “Just get it,” Todd muttered to his brother, who upended a trophy and pulled out a baggie and a pipe. “It’s just ditch weed….” Todd shrugged.
“I’m cool,” he said, raising his hands to decline. He needed a clear head in this alien land.
There was a knock at the door, so Robert put the trophy back and went to answer. The maid handed him a tray with soup and enchiladas, along with plates and silverware.
It smelled amazing.
“You sure you don’t want to smoke?” Todd asked him. “Carmen’s tortilla soup is awesome when you’re stoned.”
“I’m good,” he said, digging into the soup. It was as tasty as it smelled. Meanwhile, the twins went through their dope-smoking-prep routine. Todd lit incense, while Robert shoved a towel along the door crack and opened the window.
They sat on the backs of desk chairs and blew the smoke outdoors, grinning at each other like baboons.
Get me out of here, David thought, digging into an enchilada. It practically melted in his mouth.
Once the twins had a buzz on, they joined him with the food, apologizing about how they had to act so scrubbed for their parents. They made their mom sound more neurotic than Christine and their dad was a bully.
“What do you do for fun around here?” he asked them.
“We drive the BMW to Preston when Dad lets us,” Robert said.
David’s ears perked up. Drivers’ licenses and a car. Jackpot. “What about Phoenix? Ever go there?”
“On our own? No way,” Robert said. “Our dad’s an asshole about his car. He checks mileage every time we drive.”
“Dad’s an asshole about everything,” Todd said.
“Mainly when he drinks, though,” Robert said, shrugging.
Okay, no ride to Phoenix, but David would bet there’d be a bus station in Preston. The twins could drive him that far.
“Think it’s Ginger time?” Todd asked his brother.
“Ginger time?” David asked.
The boys snorted with baked laughter. “It’s this amazing porn chick. For free…well, five minutes’ worth anyway.”
That was the last thing he needed. David spotted a phone on the nightstand. “Can I use your phone?” The ache for Brigitte was like a live animal chewing him up inside.
“Go ahead,” Todd said. While David dialed Brigitte’s number, lying between the beds for privacy, the twins sat side by side at the computer and clicked their way into porn land.
“Hello?” Brigitte yelled into the phone. David could hardly hear her over the background wall of noise and music.
“It’s David,” he said. “Where are you?”
“At a club. It’s loud. Sorry.”
“Can you step outside?”
“I might not get back in.”
“I miss you so much—”
“It’s crazy here,” she yelled. “I’ll tell you when you call tomorrow. I can’t hear you. I love you. ’Bye.”
David felt sick. Brigitte was going to clubs, meeting guys who didn’t know she had a boyfriend and hardly talking to him.
He had to get to her. Had to.
“She’s got the longest tongue ever,” Robert said.
“It’s a biological miracle,” Todd said, equally amazed.
God. These two chuckleheads were content to gawk at pixilated female flesh, while David’s whole soul had been packed into a stolen phone call that Brigitte had cut short.
His chest ached and his throat was so tight he could hardly swallow. He wanted to hit something hard, anything to stop feeling the pain in his brain and chest.
He slugged the bed frame with all his might, glad when pain sliced through his rage and hurt. He squeezed his bruised hand and gasped for air. When the burning faded to a dull ache, he fished out his iPod, lifted the sound-canceling headphones from his neck and played fierce
metal full blast, more determined than ever to get home.
If the twins couldn’t drive him to Preston, he’d teach himself to drive after everyone was in bed at night.
He was just starting to calm down when he became aware of a commotion around him. He pulled off his headphones and sat up. Mrs. Barlow stood in the doorway with a tray of little bowls with a crusty white pudding, Christine behind her. They both looked upset.
“But we’re not smoking,” Todd said. “That’s incense.”
“What’s that window doing open? Our A/C bill has been through the roof.” Their mother set the tray on one of the beds and went for the window, but Robert lunged in front of her, while Todd scrambled to hide the pipe and weed.
“What in the name of goodness are you boys looking at?” Mrs. Barlow gasped. They’d been so stoner clueless, they’d forgotten the porn on the computer screen.
“What’s the trouble in here?” The moment their father appeared, both twins stiffened, clearly afraid of the guy.
“Explain!” he snapped, sounding like a drill sergeant in a bad war movie. He also sounded drunk.
“We accidentally clicked the wrong link, Dad, and—”
“That’s it. The Internet is done in this house.” He ripped the cord from the back of the computer. “Cancel our service on Monday, Susan.”
“Dad, come on. It was a mistake. Don’t do that.” Jumping up to object, Todd’s elbow knocked the pipe and pot to the floor. Everyone’s eyes shot to the small glass tube and bag of weed.
“Is that what I think it is?” Mrs. Barlow said. Her gaze shot instantly to David. “Did you bring drugs into our house?”
So he had to be the druggie, not her angel sons. Disgusting. David opened his mouth to object. Then he noticed the twins, white as ghosts, cowering together, shooting fearful looks at their dad, the bully. Robert caught David’s eye and put his finger to his mouth. Don’t tell. If David ratted out the twins, they sure as hell wouldn’t be driving him to Preston anytime soon. The porn might get them smacked around already by their butthole father.
He just couldn’t do it to the doofuses. He could take the hit easier than they could anyway. His mom would be proud of him for being kind. Plus he hadn’t even smoked. He reached down and grabbed the goods.
“Why, never in my life—” Mrs. Barlow gasped. “You gave our boys drugs?”
“Give me that and get out to the car,” Christine said, holding out a trembling hand, her face pale, lips tight, eyes full of shame.
She might not believe me, he realized. That made him mad. He handed over the stash and stalked out.
The one good moment was seeing the amazed gratitude and relief on the twins’ faces. They owed him now. Big-time.
A LITTLE WHILE LATER, David watched his mother and Marcus head down the sidewalk toward him. He sat in the backseat of Marcus’s Acura. Christine walked very fast, clearly furious. He didn’t want her to yell at him in front of Marcus, so the minute she sat down, he said, “The pot’s not mine. I was just covering for the twins with their asshole parents.”
“Don’t lie to me!” she yelled. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Forget it.” Figured she’d expect the worst.
“How could you do this? How? You promised me no drugs. It’s bad enough you use pot, but you talked those boys into it? You sabotage everything! How could you?” Her voice shook and she was about to cry. He hated when she cried.
“I’m sure David will explain what happened when you’re able to hear him,” Marcus said in a strong voice. “For now, take a moment to catch your breath, Christine.”
“Catch my breath? Are you kidding me?” She glared at the guy, opened her mouth to give him hell, then suddenly sagged in her seat, blowing out a huge breath.
Good one, Doctor B., David thought, amazed the shrink-talk had actually worked on his mother.
They drove for a few minutes in tense silence, until Marcus spoke. “You seemed angry at more than David, Christine.”
She jerked to face him. “What? More than…?” She paused. “I guess I didn’t appreciate how self-righteous Susan got. Like we’d polluted her house or something. ‘I have never in my life… I can’t believe you gave our boys drugs.’ Well, la-di-dah. Welcome to the real world, lady.”
David felt his mouth fall open. His mother was defending him against the snooty bitch she’d been trying to impress. Wow.
“Meanwhile, her husband, the big-shot mayor, was drunk on his ass. I swear he drank that second bottle of wine all by himself. They’re both hypocrites, that’s all I can say.”
Marcus said nothing. In the quiet pause, David realized this might be his chance to say his piece. “I know you won’t believe me, but the pot was theirs. I didn’t smoke any of it.”
“What?” His mother twisted to look at him.
“They asked me if I wanted some and I said no. Their dad’s an asshole and they were busted about the porn already. They were begging me not to narc on them, so I took the hit. The parents thought I was druggie scum anyway.” He shrugged.
“They did not think that,” Christine said, but in a softer, more thoughtful voice. “Susan thinks you’re handsome and you have nice hair. If you’d just get it out of your eyes…” She looked out the window. She seemed more sad than pissed now.
She believed him. Marcus had made her calm down and hear him for once.
“What am I supposed to say to Susan now?” she said.
“Who cares? Those people are assholes.”
“Stop saying the A word,” she said, but she wasn’t really that upset. In fact, he figured she agreed with him.
“I mean they spent the whole night showing off how rich they were,” David responded. “Like they needed a cook. Come on. And that golf course in the backyard? The guy’s a dill hole.”
Marcus coughed to hide a laugh.
“I hate that Susan and Winston think you dragged their angel boys into doing drugs. It’s not right.”
“Who cares? You just called her self-righteous and him a drunk. Don’t be a hypocrite yourself.”
Marcus caught his eye in the mirror, trying to remind David about keeping his mother off his back.
He shot back a yeah, yeah look. “Anyway, I didn’t do anything wrong. I was helping my friends.” He paused. “Plus I’m almost done with English.”
“Really? You are?” She whipped around again, all hopeful.
“Yeah. In a couple days. Then it’s only math and history.”
“That’s good, David. Really good.” She faced forward with a happy sigh. For now. It wouldn’t last, he knew, with sinking dread. To her he’d always be a screwup and a disappointment. The only person who understood him was Brigitte and she was slipping away. He had to get to her. And soon.
WHEN THEY GOT BACK to Harmony House, Marcus watched David take off for his room. The kid had done a brave thing for the Barlow boys. He was making an effort with his mother, too, clearly taking Marcus’s advice. He liked David a lot. He was smart and sensitive and he had a big heart.
Keep your distance. The warning rang like a bell in his head. Without distance, his judgment would be impaired, as it had been with Nathan. He’d reacted with his heart, not his head, hoping for the best instead of digging for the harder truth.
He opened Christine’s car door for her. She was so pretty in the soft clingy top that dipped enough to tease the eye. “Did I do okay once I caught my breath?” she asked, looking up at him in the moonlight.
“What do you think?” he said.
“God. Is that a shrink trick? Turning around the question? Okay, I’ll bite. I think I did pretty good.”
“I was watching David in the mirror when you defended him against Susan and his jaw dropped.”
“Really?”
“He clearly felt you were on his side there. The important thing was he felt heard. That means a lot.”
“So I did do good. Plus, he’s finishing school stuff, too.”
“Sounds like progress to me.
”
“It does. Yeah.” She smiled. “Whatever you said to him out in the garden did the trick, I guess. So what did you say?”
“I told David that whatever he told me would stay between the two of us unless he wanted me to speak to you.”
“Sure, but if there’s something bad I should know—”
“Then I’ll ask his permission to tell you or urge him to talk to you about it himself.”
“God. You’re so ethical.” She was pretending to be annoyed. “Do you believe him about the pot not being his?”
“Do you?”
She groaned. “I don’t know what to believe. I’m afraid to believe. The drugs worry me the most, you know. He promised to stop, but I don’t know if he has. Or if I should make him take a drug test or what.”
“Drugs are part of the culture, Christine. He’ll face drug decisions the rest of his life. The best thing you can do is keep talking. Ask questions and really listen to his answers. How authoritarian or invasive you choose to be is up to you.”
“In other words, it all depends.” She sighed.
“I wish there were easy answers, but there never are when it counts.”
“No kidding. No one tells you how hard parenthood will be. I never know when to push, when to trust, when to hang on, when to let go.” She shook her hair off her shoulder. “I just want to do it the right way, you know?” Her eyes shone with urgency.
“There are lots of right ways, Christine.”
“And a million wrong ones.” She smiled wryly. “Want to sit and talk?” She motioned toward the porch. She was so eager he could hardly decline, so he followed her up the stairs. “How about a nightcap? I’ve got beer, I think,” she said.
“I’m fine, thanks. I managed to pry the bottle out of Winston’s hands long enough to get a glass.”
“Oh, you’re bad.” She grinned, then dropped into the hammock, kicking off her shoes as she lay against the stretchy expanse. She looked so good lying there.
Desire surged through him again, as it had all evening. The more he knew her, the more his attraction grew, which was not at all helpful.