by Anna B. Doe
Dad’s sedan is parked out front, but I don’t bother with ringing the bell. I get the key out of my pocket and unlock the door.
“Hey, Dad!” I call from the doorway, waving Grace in so I can close the door behind us. “We came for a visit!”
There’s some rustling in the kitchen. “Hey, oh shit!”
I look at Grace who has a same confused look as me on her face. “Dad?”
We go to the back of the house where there is a small kitchen looking at our backyard. It’s fairly simple and hasn't changed in years.
“Are you okay?”
I rush inside expecting to see him bump into something, or breaking something, but what I find is completely different. Mrs. P is sitting at the counter slowly sipping her coffee, while my dad is halfway to the door looking at me with wide eyes.
Another cup is on the counter and pots and plates from the breakfast are left forgotten around.
My eyes go from one to the other, trying to figure out what is going on.
Mrs. P’s hair is mussed and her cheeks are pink while my dad looks guilty as hell.
They aren’t … No … They … No.
“You have company,” I state the obvious, still trying to figure out what’s happening in my kitchen. “Hey, Mrs. P., I was just thinking about stopping by your place before going home.”
“Emily came here for breakfast. We do it sometimes on the weekends,” Dad explains in a hurry, running his fingers through his hair.
“That’s so sweet of you, Jack.” She gets to her feet, her fingers pulling her brown hair behind her ears as she comes closer to kiss me on the cheek.
Obediently, like a little boy, I bend my head, offering her my cheek. I pull her into my arms, her familiar scent bringing me the peace I missed until this very moment.
“It’s about time you came here for a visit,” Mrs. P scolds me lightly before she catches a glimpse of Grace behind my back. “And who do we have here?”
Grace peeks shyly behind me, and I share a look with Dad.
“This is …” I clear my throat before continuing. “Grace.”
I don’t offer any kind of explanation, but I don’t have to. With one look between the two of us, she knows. Words are not necessary when we stand side by side. Two pairs of identical green eyes.
Mrs. P, bless her soul, doesn’t say anything. She smiles sweetly and loops her hand through Grace’s and takes her to the counter offering to make us something to eat.
“She looks so much like you,” Dad whispers by my side, still shocked about everything.
His words are barely audible, meant only for me to hear. We both look at them—an older woman and a young girl getting to know each other. Mrs. P is showing her how to make eggs. She’s always been the nurturing, motherly type, and I guess years only made that feeling grow stronger. Grace is listening carefully to everything Mrs. P says, blush spread across her cheeks.
“She is,” I agree, tilting my head to look at him. His eyes are reddish, showing emotions hidden behind a tough exterior. Lines of his face growing softer with every passing second.
“She’s amazing, Dad. She’s so good and caring. She’s smart and driven. Sucks at playing ball, but she loves to dance. She watches silly TV shows and reads romance novels when she thinks I’m not paying attention.”
“I know I wasn’t really supportive in the beginning …”
“Dad—”
“No, let me finish,” he interrupts me. Our voices are still hushed so that the women wouldn’t hear it. “I know I wasn’t really supportive in the beginning, but you did the right thing, Jack.”
Grace’s laughter stops him.
We look at them. Mrs. P standing behind Grace and helping her maneuver the big pan. Frown marks mar Grace’s forehead in concentration, but she looks so happy doing it.
“You saved this little girl. You gave her a home. You gave her family.”
“I just hope I don’t mess it all up.”
Dad’s hand lands on my shoulder giving it a strong squeeze. “Of course you’ll mess up, that’s what parents do. They make mistakes. They mess up. But they own up to their mistakes and try to make it better. Try to compromise.”
His words stop my heart from beating.
A parent.
That’s what I am to this girl.
We were born brother and sister, but circumstances made me responsible for her wellbeing. For her safety.
“J.D.! Did you see me?”
Green eyes look at me with excitement. With so much love and hope.
And in that moment, I realize something important. For this girl, I would do anything, be anything.
“Of course I did.” I smile softly as I walk toward her. Messing her hair in passing. Destiny maybe made me her father, but I can’t stop being her big brother. “Now let’s eat to see if it tastes any good.”
Dad and I share a look over her head. He gives me an encouraging smile, and I know things will get better.
Being home is always the right choice.
From the inside of my car I look at the floor-to-ceiling windows of “Reader’s Haven”. They were only in front of the building and let a lot of natural light inside of the café-slash-bookstore my sister, Lisa, owns.
Another good trait the windows have? You can see more or less clear what is going on inside.
Anabel is working this afternoon. I knew that already. That is why I came, but still …
Her long, sleek, black ponytail swings from side to side while she gives her customer coffee and they animatedly discuss something.
Books, most likely.
Sighing loudly, I lean in my seat.
We had a fight.
Bel, after finally giving Will a chance to take her out—something I encouraged from the very beginning—was now all into getting everybody else happy and settled. She claimed they are the only friends.
Friends my ass.
No friends hung out that much. And friends most definitely do not kiss. Bel didn’t like my line of thoughts so she turned the table and started on J.D. subject. That’s how I refer to it. However, I brushed her off quickly.
She had a right to do it, I guess. I was driving her crazy with my non-stop Will talk for weeks, and she was kindly returning the favor.
But J.D. and me? We aren’t like Anabel and William.
Not at all.
We are fucked up and dark.
He has his issues, obviously. He is hiding his sister from everybody. Including his friends. Even I don’t do that. Anabel knows why I’m not a relationship kind of girl. J.D. hiding his sister makes you wonder what other skeletons will fall out of his closet if you open the door. And that’s apart from him not being interested in a relationship.
Me? I don’t think kindly of love. Not after my last fucked up experience.
Oh, I believe that love exists.
My parents love each other. My sister found the love of her life. Anabel and Will are falling in love as we speak right in front of my eyes. Or maybe they are already there, but they simply don’t know it yet.
That doesn’t mean love is meant for everybody.
So, yeah, we had a fight. Not even a fight, more like a heated discussion.
I’m not sure where we stand now and I’m nervous to get out of the car and find out.
Anabel is my only real friend. Except for Johnny, who I don’t see much with our busy schedules. Anabel is my only real girlfriend. I don’t want to lose her over a silly fight. About boys no less. That would be so classic. Like a bad chick-flick.
Sighing loudly, I put on my big girl panties and take the bag that has been sitting on the passenger’s seat in my hand.
It’s now or never.
One by one, I let my legs slide out of the driver’s seat of my red Mercedes. My brown cowboy boots touching the concrete.
Today I’m in my casual clothes. The light creamy dress is swaying around my legs with the breeze. It’s March, and although the days are getting warmer it isn’t that wa
rm, so I wore a jean jacket over it. All paired up with a clutch, a wide belt around my waist, and a necklace in the same color as my shoes. Ray-Ban sunglasses on my nose.
Locking my car, I put my keys in my purse.
Well, I would, if there was any space left.
Why do I keep insisting on carrying such a small purse? Ohh, I remember—they look small and cute. Next time I’m shopping I should also probably remember that half my shit doesn’t fit inside of it.
I’m so concentrated on rearranging stuff in my bag so that the damn keys would fit (no pockets for this girl) that I don’t hear footsteps approaching.
“Sienna?”
Abruptly, I turn around on my feet and crash into the hard chest, which results in my bag falling down on the floor. Everything that was only a second ago placed in its rightful position so that it can all fit inside is now scattered around the floor.
“Shit!”
“I’m so sorry!” he says and squats down to help me collect all my stuff.
Don’t be fooled, for a small bag, I managed to put a lot of shit inside. Everything’s about good organization.
Lifting my gaze, I’m met with dark, more brown than green, eyes. “Adam?”
I’ve seen the guy only a few times, but he is hardly forgettable.
With those big eyes the color of the woods surrounded by thick eyelashes and sun-kissed hair, Adam Harrison is a hot guy. Being six feet one with wide shoulders and ripped muscles under a simple grey cotton shirt with some band logo doesn’t hinder. Neither does the dimple in his left cheek nor his big boyish smile that shows off his white teeth. One of them being slightly crooked made him only that more charming.
“You remembered.” He flashed me with his smile. Did I say he is cute? ‘Cause he is. But he is also young. Not too much, around Bel’s age, but enough to make me look at him like my friend’s cute little brother.
“You are hardly forgettable.” My words, or maybe it’s my teasing wink, make him blush which I find even more charming. “What are you doing around here?”
“Nothing special.” He gives me some of my stuff he collected on the floor and helps me get to my feet. I put it all back inside, without thinking too much about order, leaving the bag wide open and brush the dust from my legs. “I was just in the neighborhood. What about you?”
“I’m here to talk to Bel. She works here.”
His brows furrow. “Isn’t she a nanny?”
“Yeah, but she works here sometimes too. It’s my sister's shop and she helps when she’s not needed in the house. She likes to work around books.”
“That’s really nice of her.”
I catch his gaze wander around to the windows of the café. One hand lifts and he scratches the base of his neck. His eyes find Anabel easily, and I can see that he’s debating whether he should go inside or not.
There’s a spark of interest in his woodsy eyes, and I feel sorry for him.
It isn’t the first time I caught it. On the night of the New Year’s Eve party, and later on at the football game, it was the same. A spark of interest mixed with a little bit of longing. What a shame there is no way Anabel will ever see him as anything more than a friend.
“You know, you could come inside with me and we all could hang out together,” I say, drawing his attention from the window. Maybe if I pack it all up in the friendly environment he’ll get there is no chance of there being anything more between him and Anabel. “Bel doesn’t have that much work right now.”
“You don’t mind?” His fingers go through his hair, making it even messier than before.
I smile at him and loop my arm around his. “The more, the merrier.”
“Bel?” I say, looking at my friend.
She’s been busy cleaning behind the counter. A few stubborn strands of her hair escaped her ponytail and are curling around her face. The sleeves of the light, lime green t-shirt with a black logo of “Reader’s Heaven” are pulled to her elbows.
Anabel lifts her head and sapphire eyes look at me. With one hand, she pushes curly black strands behind her ear, but they escape out almost instantly. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about the phone call.”
When Anabel saw Adam and myself enter, she was surprised, but also happy. We sat down at the bar and she made us coffee—tea for me—and gave us cupcakes. There weren’t a lot of people around so Bel could spend some time chatting with us. Well, we were all chatting while I was trying to get my purse organized again.
Adam was telling us funny stories about his teammates and family. We were having a blast hearing about his rookie year with The New York Knights—those guys should stop being so serious about football—and his “adventures,” as he liked to call them, with his three-year-old niece.
Fun times, indeed.
Enjoying the time with friends made it way too easy to forget the whole reason for me coming here in the first place.
“Oh, don’t sweat it, Si.”
Anabel comes on the other side, her hands curling around my waist.
She is one small thing, standing next to my bar chair she barely reached my chest. “I shouldn’t push you. I know how much I hate being pushed around.”
“No, you were right …”
“If you don’t want to have anything more with J.D., that’s your business, not mine,” she interrupts me. “But, for the record, I really do believe there is something more between you two, and you should give him a chance.”
“You know what happened before.”
I told her all about my unlucky love life. About betrayal.
“What I know is that you shouldn’t let your past define you. You shouldn’t let that jerk have power over your present and future.”
“Sometimes it’s not so easy to forgive and forget,” I mutter.
“Didn’t you hear? Women can forgive, but they never forget.” Her words are meant to lighten the mood, but they strike me hard.
“I’m not sure I can forgive, either.”
“Then don’t.” She shrugs and walks back behind the bar. “But don’t let it control who you are now. Be happy, Si. You deserve to be happy.”
“I—”
My mouth stays open, although I’m not sure what I want to say.
I’m happy.
Most of the time.
You look beautiful in all of the photos, but I didn’t see this kind of happiness in any of them.
You look so happy when you dance. So free. So beautiful. Grace’s words creep inside of my brain.
I don’t need a man in my life.
When I want him, I invite him and then show him the door. After everything went down my freshman year at college, I was heartbroken.
So heartbroken.
Not only did I lose the guy I loved, but I also lost my best friend.
Never again.
That was my promise to myself. Never again will I give power over myself to somebody else. Never again will I let somebody in, only for them to leave chaos behind before they shut the door in my tear-stained face.
My phone vibrates on the bar and the screen lights up.
I look at the name of the caller and, confused, pick up.
“Shelton?”
“I need your help, Sienna.”
When I hear the sound of the car coming closer to the house I don’t think twice. I run hard and fast, opening the door so hard that they almost crash into the wall, but I manage to stop them in time. The last thing I want to do is break or damage something. This house is too beautiful to be destroyed by my carelessness. Not just any house.
My house.
My home.
A bright red car pulls in front of the house and Sienna comes out of it.
She’s gorgeous in a white dress, jean jacket, and brown boots. Was she on a date? Did I interrupt her?
My fingers fidget, and I nibble on my lower lip as I watch her climb the stairs of the front porch. “I’m so sorry to bother you. I didn’t know who else to call. Mrs. Tayson is out of town vis
iting her family and …”
Her hands come around me and she pulls me in for a hug.
Sienna smells nice. I’ve never noticed it before. It’s fresh and kind of exotic. Girly, but not too sweet. I let my hands wrap around her and press my body into hers, relaxing for the first time today.
“It’s okay.” Her hands slowly caress my back. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“I didn’t know what to do,” my words are whispered against her chest.
J.D. was feeling off last night. He was grumpy, but that’s nothing new. He is like that most days now.
I think he and Sienna had a fight and he was feeling pissed about that, but he didn’t say anything. After leaving for bed early I let him sleep in. Maybe he was tired. That’s what I thought.
J.D. has been pushing himself hard. Even though it’s technically off-season he is exercising twice a day. When he isn’t working out he is tinkering around the house or spending time with me.
We even went to visit his dad a few times since the first time I met him. J.D.’s dad is nice and so kind. He told me to call him Pops and took me out for ice cream behind J.D.’s back. He took me to the beach and let me drive with him in a police car. That was amazing. I loved watching J.D. with his dad. They are so similar they could be brothers and not father and son. But as much as I loved it, I was jealous of my brother too. He has something I’ll never have. I don’t even know who my father is.
So yeah, I let him sleep, hoping he would rest and be less moody. But when he didn’t get up by 2 PM I got worried and went into his room.
The room was dark, and I could only distinguish his shape in the bed. Getting close I could see him restlessly turning around between the covers. His face and naked chest covered in sweat.
My fingers touched his forehead and found him burning. I tried to wake him up, but he would open slightly his eyes and start blabbing about stupid things before they closed again. I called Mrs. Tayson, but she didn’t answer. I would call J.D.’s dad, but he is in Atlantic City. Nothing much he could do from there. I looked around the house, trying to find some kind of medicine, however, there was nothing. What did this guy do when he got sick?