Love Bites

by Campbell, Jamie

  Seat 43F: I take pretty pictures.

  Seat 12B: So you’re a stalker then?

  I was kind of only sort of joking.

  Seat 43F: I’m a photographer. I guess the only real difference is I get paid.

  Seat 12B: So who are you then? My curiosity is killing me.

  Seat 43F: I’ll give you a clue: Pickles.

  Oh. My. God. Pickles.

  Chapter 2

  My hands were shaking as I as continued typing. There was no doubt who was sitting in seat 43F now. There could only be, and there would only ever be, one Pickles. He wore that nickname for years back in middle school. He could eat them by the jar full.

  Seat 12B: Keegan? Seriously?

  Seat 43F: Seriously. I’ve missed you, Annie.

  Seat 12B: I’ve missed you too. I never meant to lose contact. It just happened.

  Seat 43F: Life happens when you least expect it.

  Seat 12B: It’s been almost ten years.

  Seat 43F: You haven’t changed a bit. I could recognize that red hair anywhere.

  My hand involuntarily went to my long red locks. They weren’t a bright red, more of a dark auburn. Keegan had always said it was my temper that turned it that color.

  The screen buzzed with an announcement from the pilot. We were about to land so they were shutting off the in-flight entertainment. The conversation with my childhood friend was erased by the black screen.

  I gripped the seat for the descent, my mind reeling with the man sitting only thirty-one rows behind me. When I had run away from home at fifteen, he was the only thing I regretted leaving. We had spent most of our lives up until that point inseparable.

  We landed and exited the plane in an orderly fashion, my eyes scanning the crowd the entire time. I finally caught a glimpse of him standing in the line behind me. He was everything I had remembered – tall, blond, and with the most intense blue eyes imaginable. He’d filled out from the fifteen year old I had last seen, but the essentials were definitely still there.

  And then he was gone. In the blink of an eye I lost sight of him. He vanished, like he might have only ever been an illusion anyway.

  I searched through the crowds of the busy airport, desperate to find Keegan again. But he was nowhere. Perhaps I had truly dreamed the entire thing. It certainly felt like a mirage anyway.

  Without any bags to collect, I headed for the taxi rank and waited in another queue. Being the start of the weekend, the airport was packed with commuters. I was certain every one of them was more excited to be in New Orleans than I was.

  The not-so-chatty taxi driver pulled up to what was once my childhood home. I used to love the old fashion house that was unlike every other one in the street. I used to play for hours in the garden, running up and down the few steps to the door a million times.

  Now I couldn’t discern the happy memories from the bad. All those good times had come to an abrupt end when my mother was killed by cancer. The grief never truly left, but my father did remarry almost two years later. My stepmother took an instant disliking to me that quickly turned into hatred.

  Then the beatings started. She was careful, I’d give her that. She never hit me when my father was around and she always made sure nobody would be able to see the bruises and cuts she left over my little body. She always made sure to be the one to dress and bathe me, just so my father never got suspicious.

  For six years I had endured the silent torture that was supposed to be our little secret. She made me think I was nothing but dirt, undoing all the confidence my mother had so painstakingly fed into me. Where I considered my mother a saint, my stepmother was the devil. And she always would be.

  My breaking point came when I was fifteen. She held my right hand on the stovetop for so long that it blistered. The pain was unbearable. It was at that moment that I knew it would never get better, that perhaps the next time it would be something so terrible that it might cost me my life.

  I fled.

  I ran away and never looked back. I became a harder person, one that looked out for herself and nobody else. I became Anne and vowed never to go back to the little, weak Annie.

  Then I received word of my father’s passing. I never really blamed him for my abuse. To be fair to him, my stepmother had me so scared I knew I could never tell him what she was doing. She said he would never believe me and I believed her. I believed everything she said. He travelled a lot and I had to be home alone with her for days and weeks on end. I had no protection. No-one.

  I knocked on the door, hating the fact it was now her home. She inherited everything my father worked so hard for. In a way, I was glad he died never knowing the truth about his wife. He never had to suffer the betrayal like I did.

  “You’re back.” The flat, monotone voice could only belong to Peg Edwards. She looked me up and down, sizing me up. Her hair was gray now, a soft wave in her bob. Through the glasses I could still see the hard eyes that never held anything but contempt for me.

  “When’s the funeral?” I asked with the same frostiness in my voice. My inner ten year old shook and glanced around for a place to cower. But Anne wouldn’t.

  “Sunday at ten a.m.”

  “At Saint Anthony’s?” She nodded. “Anything else I should know?”

  “That about covers it. If you think you’re here for his money, then you’re mistaken,” she said. “I don’t even know why you bothered coming back.”

  “To say goodbye to my father.”

  “He didn’t care about you. He hasn’t even seen you in the last ten years.” She spat the words out like poison.

  I tried to stand taller, make her see that she couldn’t intimidate me. I don’t think it worked. “I’m not here to talk to you.” With that, I turned and climbed into the waiting taxi. I had told him to stay and I was certainly glad I did.

  I gave the driver the name of my hotel and he sped off. As we moved down the street, I saw Keegan’s old house. It was three doors down from mine. When I was a child I used to think he lived in a mansion. His house was two story, which seemed so extravagant at the time.

  Now, it looked abandoned. Much like the rest of the street. Hurricane Katrina must have ripped up the hundred year old oak that once took pride of place on the front lawn. Nothing short of a hurricane would have fallen that tree.

  Looking closer at the other houses, many of them had installed new roofs at roughly the same time with their shiny pitch still looking fresh. If I looking hard enough, I could still see the flood line upon the bricks of the homes.

  Hurricane Katrina had not been kind to the neighborhood. Unfortunately, it would take more than a natural disaster to scare Peg Edwards from her home.

  Even as I checked into the hotel, I was still shaking from the encounter with my stepmother. I had thought being twenty-five years old and so distanced from my past would change things.

  I was wrong.

  It was going to have to take more than running away to crush all those childhood demons. Until I did, I doubted whether I could ever really move on.

  I had tried. God, had I tried. I pretended to be someone else, I thought I could change my past if I really concentrated hard enough. But not even an hour in New Orleans and all my efforts were quashed.

  It was going to be a long two days.

  Chapter 3

  My hotel room felt stuffy, which had nothing to do with the temperature. I had thought I could get some work done, stay in my room the entire weekend and forget where I was.

  So how I found myself walking the humid and hot streets of New Orleans was beyond me. The city always drew me out like a moth to the flame. Maybe it was the gas-lit lamps, maybe it was the jazz music playing on every corner, whatever it was I was pulled into it.

  The city had changed a lot since I left. Perhaps it wouldn’t be evident to the visitors who came and went. But to me, the bricks of the buildings were that bit more worn, the people a bit more weary with age, and the kids more street smart than when I had been one of them. Th
ey scurried about, not even one of them making eye contact with me.

  I stopped in front of the Archibald Theatre, now closed with iron bars keeping everyone out. I couldn’t add up the number of hours Keegan and I had spent in that place. If we weren’t seeing a movie, then we were outside just hanging out. Sometimes it was with other friends, most of the time only the two of us.

  He used to buy me a creaming soda and bag of skittles for every movie session. I always told him he didn’t have to, that I could pay my own way (even though that wasn’t true), but he would give me this little crooked grin he had perfected and tell me it was something he wanted to do.

  The memories of those times brought a smile to my lips. I used to think Keegan and I would get married someday. Our relationship was never one of a boyfriend/girlfriend, we were purely friends, but I used to dream about it.

  In those daydreams, Peg didn’t exist. It was just Keegan and I. We would get married, have way too many kids than was sensible, and have this mad, loud, chaotic house.

  I couldn’t believe I was so naïve. Life never worked out like that. Not for people like me, the kind of girl who couldn’t even be loved by her stepmother. My future was fated to be lonely. I had made peace with that a long time ago.

  My feet started moving away from the theatre, there was no point in dwelling. I had a good life back in New York. It was a city big enough to get lost in which was the reason I had chosen to settle there. I had an apartment, a job, and my neighbor’s cat seemed quite fond of me. I didn’t need more.

  At the end of the block was Sumner Park. My parents used to take me there when I was little. My mother used to push me on the swing while my father took photographs. I would always beg to be pushed higher and Mom would be too worried I would fall out of the swing.

  I had my fifth birthday party in that park. Keegan had turned up in a suit that his mother insisted he wear. He was itchy all day and I think he hated me a little for having the party in sweltering temperature while he had to wear the suit. He gave me a stuffed unicorn with a purple bow around its neck.

  On my fourteenth birthday, he gave me a bracelet with five unicorn charms on it. They each had a purple enamel bow. We both laughed when I opened it, nobody else got the joke.

  I still wore one of those charms on a necklace, one of the few pieces of my past I had to hold onto. I hadn’t even thought about Keegan when I had slipped it on that morning.

  How could a city that held so many good memories for me fill me with such dread? I had to fight all my instincts to get on the plane here, I entertained ideas of running off right until we were taxiing down the runway. I guess all the good memories got clouded by the bad.

  The regrets were flowing hard and fast the further I walked. I regretted leaving Keegan without an explanation. I regretted not reuniting with my dad before he died. Those were the main ones, each big in their own right. Neither of those men deserved what I did to them.

  I didn’t regret leaving though. Anne was a survivor, she had to do whatever it took to stay alive and leaving was her only option. I did what I had to do.

  “Annie.” My name was shouted at me as I walked past the Three Brothers Bar. It wasn’t a place I used to frequent, being underage. I still knew it well though, it was a landmark in the neighborhood.

  Turning to see who had called my name, it was easy to spot Keegan in the crowd. He held up his hand and waved me over, a perfect crooked grin plastered on his face.

  If I was left to my memories, I would soon drown in them. Having a drink with Keegan would be a nice distraction. I weaved my way through the tables to join him. “Hey, I didn’t think I’d see you again. You vanished after the flight grounded.”

  He managed to look sheepish as I got my first good look at his face up close. His blond hair was cut shorter than he always used to wear it, while his blue eyes still held the same sparkling intensity. His frame had filled out, his shirt bulging with the promise of tight muscles underneath. It was like being fifteen again, looking into Keegan’s eyes and seeing my entire future there.

  I needed to snap the hell out of it.

  He was talking before I realized I should be listening. “Sorry, I had to take off after the flight. My mother would have killed me if I’d missed the family photo. I hoped I would catch up with you in town though. I could barely believe my luck when you walked by.”

  “My hotel’s around the corner,” I replied. I instantly wished I could recall the words. It sounded like an invitation and I definitely didn’t intend it that way. I mean, my thoughts were quickly going there, but I didn’t want him knowing that.

  Keegan nodded and glossed over it. “Hey, can I get you a drink? We don’t need fake IDs anymore.”

  I laughed, grateful for the subject change. “A beer’s fine, thank you.”

  He sauntered over to the bar, managing to pull off the same sexy walk he used to have. Keegan always had a cool factor that made all the girls love him. I used to be jealous that they gave him so much attention but he was always so oblivious to it that I never held onto the emotion for very long.

  He caught the eyes of a few girls as he returned to the table, beer in hand. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure. Glad I could do this legally for you.”

  I smiled. “It makes a nice change.”

  His face washed over into seriousness without warning, like there was something he wanted to discuss. I didn’t realize my beer came with a string attached. “So how’s it feel to be back?”

  “Weird. How’s your sister? Which one of them was it that had the baby?”

  “Kelly. And she’s doing great. Ainsley has two kids of her own already. It’s Kelly’s first,” he explained.

  “Wow, so it’s not your first time being Uncle Keegan then. Do they all still live in New Orleans?”

  He nodded. “I’m the only one who left. Much to my mother’s ire. You know what she’s like.” It warmed me that I did. Mrs. Stewart was a force to be reckoned with. She protected her babies with the same ferocity of a mother lioness.

  “So how did you manage to escape?” I asked, suddenly needing every detail of his life since I had last seen him.

  “I was made an offer of a lifetime. I couldn’t let it slip out of my fingers. So I went to Africa for two years and lived in a tent, photographing the native people in these remote villages every day. Then I went travelling.”

  “Sounds amazing.” I could picture Keegan running around with his camera, taking incredible pictures of people he would have to win over first. With his natural charm and charisma, it would have been easy for him.

  It didn’t surprise me that he had made photography into a career. For as long as I could remember he had been taking pictures. Sometimes it used to bug the hell out of me, but he always knew when to put the thing away.

  “It was amazing. I won an award and everything,” he said casually, not boasting just stating a fact. “But enough about me. You boarded the plane in New York, is that where you live now?”

  “It is. I live in a neighborhood that is the exact opposite of New Orleans. You’d hate it.”

  “You might be surprised to know what I like these days.” Call me super sensitive, but was that a shot at me? Was he trying to imply that I didn’t know him at all anymore so I shouldn’t presume to?

  Perhaps he had a point. He didn’t know me either – or what I went through when I was here.

  I turned the questions back on him, it seemed much safer. “Where do you call home?”

  “Boston. I was in New York on assignment for a few days.” We had been living only a few hours from each other and never even knew it. They sky I was staring at was the same one he was. Every time I had thought about him, I always pictured him a world away. So close, yet so far.

  An awkward silence lingered on us as we both took a forced sip of our drinks. I felt like chugging mine so I could get the hell out of there. Keegan was a thing of the past, but every nerve in my body was acutely aware of him still. I could clos
e my eyes and still know exactly what he was doing.

  My fingers found my necklace, absentmindedly playing with the unicorn charm like I always did when I was nervous.

  “Hey, you kept it,” Keegan said, nodding toward my necklace.

  “Oh, yeah,” I replied, like it wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t mention that I considered it to be my good luck charm.

  Silence fell again. It was stupid to even consider having a real conversation with Keegan. He obviously had a good life now. He had a successful career and seemed happy. I would only infect him like a cancer, managing to ruin everything for him. It was best if I just stayed away.

  Unfortunately, Keegan didn’t get the memo. “So what are you doing for dinner tonight? If you’ve got no other plans, my mother has invited you over.”

  “You told your mother I’m here?” The words came out as an accusation, when really I was just taken unaware. I tried to soften it. “I mean, I’m surprised she still remembers me.”

  Keegan gave me a look of disbelief, arching both his eyebrows in unison. “How could she not remember you? We were inseparable for fifteen years.”

  If I accepted his invitation, it would mean the opposite of staying away from Keegan. On the other hand, a lonely night in my hotel room didn’t seem appealing. I never was good at doing the right thing. “Sure, I’d love to.”

  “Great, what’s your number and I’ll text you her address? She’s moved since we were kids.” I could have told him that, seeing as though I had been stalking his former residence earlier.

  I recited my phone number as Keegan typed it into his cell. He immediately sent me a text so I had his too. “Just checking you gave me a real number,” he joked with his crooked smile. The experts say that symmetry is what makes a face beautiful. The experts have not met Keegan Stewart.