Haven

by J D Worth

  Is Cal sending me the message to stay away from Mace? Lilith is watching me. She knew when the sheriff arrived, seeking answers to Chaz’s disappearance. Worse yet, could the photo be Chaz’s doing? My head spins. “Mace took me to see the wild horses up at Corolla.” I offer a passive hand wave while watching his expression.

  “Is that so?”

  “After he found out about my love of riding, he thought I’d enjoy seeing the horses on the beach.”

  “Mace must be making his own bucket list.” Cal takes another long gulp of his beer, eyeing me closer. I think back to this morning at how smoothly Mace prompted me to provide him with an alibi. It’s true that I don’t know Chaz very well. I also don’t know what Mace or even Cal are capable of either.

  I grin. “Mace was also kind enough to bring me solar lights for the beach path and arm me with a machete for the snakes.”

  “Yeah, I should’ve lined that path a long time ago.” Cal’s eyes narrow. “Look, Audrey, you seem like a mighty nice gal, so I’m gonna be real honest with you. Mace isn’t the dating type. I love the guy, and we’ve been best buds since I set foot in town. But I don’t wanna see you getting mixed up in his troubles or getting your hopes up. You’re only here for a few short weeks.”

  “You saw yesterday how well I can take care of myself.”

  Cal steps up to me, his expression migrates to utter seriousness. He drops his hands on my shoulders, demanding my attention. “Your momma made me promise I’d look out for you if you ever landed down here.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure I don’t break my promise to her.”

  I lift my brows high. Is this the real reason Mace downplayed my encounter with Chaz when Cal came upon us? I saw what Mace is capable of. What does this say about Cal?

  Cal nods. “Mace is mixed up in some serious shit, and you have Harvard to think about.”

  “Okay?”

  “You wanna see how far I’ve come on the cottage here? I keep my machete by the back door.” He points out the massive knife, swift to change the subject. “You can’t head in the woods where I’m from without some kind of weapon. The snakes alone are thick in some parts. You gotta always watch out for those snakes, Audrey.”

  I trail after Cal as my heart tightens. His strong warning leaves me on edge. Four days into my stay, I’m embroiled in a dark mystery, one I want nothing to do with. Chaz has gone missing. Mace has a burner phone that I used to call Chaz. I backed up his alibi in front of Sheriff Watkins. Lilith has her hand stuck deep, directing the puppet show. Cal knows a lot more than he’s willing to share.

  And a slithering snake aimed a nail at my head, leaving behind a deadly warning on my doorstop.

  13

  When Saturday arrives, I show up to Violet’s house for dinner. Instead of exiting the car, I hunch down in my seat. My chest becomes heavy, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. I alternate between gripping the steering wheel and wiping my sweaty palms on my linen dress. I need to drag my sorry ass to her house after accepting her gracious dinner invitation, yet the stuffy air in the car is a vacuum. One I can’t escape.

  “Audrey, whatcha doing?” Violet asks, planting herself in the passenger seat like a burst of sunshine. Her cute bright yellow seersucker dress fans out in my car as she adjusts the matching scarf in her hair.

  “I’m not sure to be honest.” I lift my head off the steering wheel and glance at her. “My stomach is full of knots, and I can’t seem to find the courage to step out of the car.”

  She glances back at her house. “I understand. It was probably unfair of me to invite you without telling you about my folks.”

  “Wait. What about your folks?”

  A handsome blond man appears in the living room window. Seconds later, a taller, equally handsome man appears next to him, wrapping an arm around the blond man’s waist. I duck my head down. “Oh my goodness, are they happy to see me? I’ve been sitting in this car for more than ten minutes. They must think I’m a fool.” I lean over the steering wheel again, closing my eyes. “I’m failing on a massive scale at representing the Aster family today.”

  “You don’t have a problem with my folks?”

  “No, not at all!” I’m failing to register Violet’s anxieties after wrapped in my own. “I believe if you’re lucky enough to fall in love, you should hold onto it. In my world, ‘love’ is a polite name for the business transaction of a marriage. Your family’s love is more than real.”

  Violet gazes at her parents, smiling. “I am lucky, aren’t I. Luckier than most of my friends, that’s for sure.”

  I take in her front yard bursting with whimsical flowerbeds and shrubbery. The professional landscaping stands out amongst the poorer, drabber properties in this run-down part of town. I glance around the neighborhood, knowing Jax and Mace grew up nearby. All the houses are smaller, dated brick homes similar to Violet’s or poorly maintained single storey ranches. Yards are scattered with plastic toys and dropped bicycles left behind from playing children. Lawns are overgrown and beat-up garbage cans remain at the curbs.

  My mind flashes back to Chatsworth Manor where I grew up. Professionally kept boxy hedges lined the property and not once was a toy left outside. Not when I had a caretaker behind me, cleaning up my mess. I shake off my thoughts, mournful of a carefree childhood I never experienced.

  “My mother’s cottage is the first normal house I’ve ever set foot in,” I blurt out a sad truth.

  “What do you mean by ‘normal’?”

  “I grew up in a world where properties have formal names and sprawling estates you can get lost in. I’ve wanted a normal existence my whole life. Now I get to peek into yours, and it’s almost too much too bear. Once, I had my mother to anchor me, but she’s gone. Your house is a home, a real family home, and I haven’t had anything like that since my mother passed.” I can’t help my voice from quavering. “I’m afraid I’ll never have that again. Violet, you’re so utterly blessed…”

  “Whoa,” Violet whispers.

  “Sorry to lay that on you.” I blow out a hesitant breath. “Haven has shaken my screws loose. More than anything, I have to pull myself together before I return to the city.”

  “I know exactly the thing you need.” Violet smiles and opens her car door. “C’mon inside. Don’t worry about my daddies, I know they’re gonna love you!”

  “Are you sure? I’m fairly certain it’s rude to have an existential crisis in your hosts’ driveway.”

  Violet tosses her head against the seat and chuckles. “Audrey, you aren’t in New York.”

  “Right. And?”

  “Just be exactly who you are, and that’ll be all right with us.” She points to her house. “You get to walk through those Broadway curtains today and be the star of your own life. We’ll keep the rest between us so that you can capture as much ordinary magic as you can while you’re here.”

  “Thank you, Violet.” Mustering a smile, I lift the African violet gift I found at the local florist shop.

  She flashes a brilliant smile at me. “Yup. My daddies are gonna love you!”

  She grabs my hand, and we trek up to her house. Her father pops out, ready to greet me. “Oh, Darling, you must be Audrey! Our sweet little Violet has been raving nonstop about you since you swept into town like a daydream.” He winks at her, and she giggles.

  “I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” I hand my gift to her father wearing an apron covered in pink cupcakes over his burgundy twill dress shirt and tan pants.

  Violet smiles. “Audrey thought she was lost, but she was mistaken.”

  “What a doll! I’m Boyce, the fun one.”

  “Cupcakes.” A huge grin bubbles up as I nod at his apron.

  “Right? I even collect sprinkles. My spice rack is overflowing. The applications are endless.” Boyce winks at me. A fangirl squeal dies in my throat. He yells over his shoulder, “She’s here, Big G
uy!”

  “Boyce, I think I love you.” We laugh together. He peels off the apron and lays it over the chair by the door. He’s my height with a lean frame.

  The tall man with the brawny physique joins us. He’s handsome with rich brown hair, dark eyes, and a well-kept beard. He’s blue jeans and plaid. “Hello, I’m Walt,” he says in a much deeper, more masculine voice. “I’m Violet’s other daddy.”

  “Just so things don’t get too confusing around here with my two daddies.” Violet shares, unfolding her hand toward Boyce, “I call Mr. Cupcake here Dad.” She smiles towards Walt. “And Mr. Big Guy gets Daddy.” They chuckle as she grins at them.

  Two proud “Daddies” stand in front of me. I rock back on my feet. Their display of love is what Mace was describing. I dismissed him, having never experienced this elation from my father. Martin shared the same prideful look towards his boys, yet the notion didn’t register to now. Feeling the urge to bolt, I glance back to the safety of my car. I force my eyes to their yard instead. “Your gardens are beautiful.”

  Walt places his hands on Boyce’s shoulders, displaying a wide smile. “All sprouted from years of Boyce’s hard work. Please join us.” They step aside while I move through their tidy living room and follow Violet to the attached dining room.

  Violet asks, “Daddy, can we eat out on the patio? I wanna show Audrey the rest of the gardens. The lightnin’ bugs will be out soon.”

  “Lightning bugs? As in fireflies?”

  Boyce shares, “I’m from Jersey myself, and we always called them fireflies. Here, they’re often called lightning bugs. Violet thought they were magical fairies when she was little.”

  “Still do.” Violet winks at me.

  Walt smiles. “I’ll set everything up while you two welcome our guest.” He turns to me and says, “I think Violet liked bugs more than Mace and Jackson put together. She might’ve brought home a snake or two.”

  “Not the poisonous kind,” Violet protests. “And lightning bugs are special because they only shine this time of year, Daddy!” Walt gives her a playful look to behave as she grins back at him. He gathers the dishes and disappears out the sliding glass door into their backyard.

  “Here, I’ve made these special drinks for tonight!” Boyce hands us martini glasses filled with a pink frothy mixture topped with iridescent pastel sprinkles. He waves his hand at us. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s a fauxtini! Everything is more divine when it’s in a martini glass. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “You had me at the sprinkles. Add in the iridescent sparkle, I’m a goner.” My smile brightens by the second.

  Violet takes a sip and beams at him. “This is yummy, Dad.”

  I taste the sweet concoction, warming from deep within as my eyes light up. What an amazing difference from Georgina’s tacky bridal drink she forced down everyone’s throat. I giggle, musing how Violet’s flair for the dramatic comes from Boyce.

  “I grew up adoring James Bond. Naturally, martinis are my favorites. I whip one up for every occasion.” Boyce takes a sip, and his eyes shimmer. “And Daniel Craig as 007? Oh boy, he can shake me anytime!” Boyce holds his hand over his heart, shaking his hips.

  “Dad! Don’t scare her please. Stop ‘acting,’ you aren’t on stage here.” Violet swats her father as I grin at their carefree antics.

  “I used to be on Broadway, my dear, which grants me the right to act whenever I wish!”

  “You were?”

  “Oh, yes. I was in the Broadway revival of Grease and played Danny Zuko. That’s how I met my Walt. He was doing the lights and electrical.” Boyce cups his mouth and whispers in a loud voice, “All that boring stuff behind the curtains.” He rolls his eyes. I smack my lips, squashing a laugh.

  Walt steps through the slider, catching the end of the exchange. He lets out a deep chuckle as he gathers the napkins and silverware. “I’m an electrician by trade and helped design several sets.”

  “Yes, and we fell in love. Blah, blah, blah … nonetheless we have company, and I want to know all about the great Audrey Wakefield Aster!” He says my name as if I’m a legendary movie star who has graced their presence for dinner. Boyce motions towards the patio. “Come, you can tell us under all the twinkling lights on our very own stage, otherwise known as the backyard.”

  “Wow.” I breathe out all of my tensions, stepping under a beautiful pergola that frames the large dining area. I touch the purple flowers cascading down, enveloping the space with a sweet-smelling fragrance. “Is this wisteria?”

  “Yes, and that’s one of the best things about moving to the South. I went from a zone six to a zone eight on the hardiness scale. You can grow wisteria up north, but you won’t get the abundance of flowers like here. It’s actually a vine that’s hard to control, but great for pergolas.”

  Flowering shrubbery and vibrant flowerbeds cover the perimeter of the deep yard. I find myself draw to the surrounding hydrangea bushes with the largest full caps of purple and pink flowers I’ve ever seen. “Hydrangeas are my favorite. My Grandmother Beth used to have a bouquet of these every time I visited her house. My grandfather had an ongoing weekly delivery for her even after he was gone.” A small frown festers. Love comes so easy for some people while others—like my mother—fall short of the seemingly unattainable goal.

  “Hydrangea is the essential Southern plant, and this was how I got into landscaping. I planted these bushes soon after we found out our surrogate was carrying our child. This is what blossomed, and we decided what a perfect honor for our daughter.” He brushes over the soft pallet of blue and purple watercolor flowers, winking at Violet.

  Poignant as it may be, I find it difficult to witness an authentic father-daughter relationship. I know I should be angry with my father, but I don’t have the energy or drive to fight for William’s love when it doesn’t exist.

  “Big Guy, why don’t you show off a little for our guest?” Smiling, Boyce nudges Walt.

  Walt dials down the outside light. Twinkling lights spring to life all around us. They dangle from the trees and pergola, lighting up the garden oasis. I spin around and take in the surreal setting, saying, “This is certainly Broadway worthy. Everything is pure magic.”

  “Every day you find pure magic in what you have. That is life’s great secret.” Boyce smiles back at his family, and my heart thumps an uncertain beat. I glance out to the yard as my eyes mist. Violet joins me by squeezing my hand and resting her head on my shoulder.

  “Daddy, can you please cut the lights so we can see the lightin’ bugs.” I sniff a few times, withholding tears as darkness falls around us, and the intimate pergola lights dim for dinner. Violet gives me a few moments while we take in her backyard. “If I lost my daddies, I’d walk through those front doors every day so I could remember what I had was special, and it’s possible to have that love again. Home would remind me that hope exists, and I never lost mine to begin with, I had only misplaced my faith in love. You’re not lost, Audrey, you only think you are.” She points to the dashing lights springing from the darkness all around us.

  Tracing the sparkling bursts with my eyes, I say, “There must be hundreds!”

  “Is this the kind of ordinary magic you’re seeking?”

  “My goodness, Violet. Mace was spot on when he called you and Payton my fairy godmothers.” I inhale the sweet-smelling backyard and lean my head against hers. My disastrous smashing of the hobnail glasses flickers in my mind. I’m still stuck in the anger phase of grieving my mother’s passing.

  “I don’t mind being your fairy godmother.” We both giggle as she pats my hand. “Your cottage is pretty magical for a displaced princess.”

  “More than magical.” I hum under my breath. “I’m never going to rid that princess moniker, am I?”

  “Nope, wear the crown with pride, Princess Audrey. My dad is the perfect example.” We chuckle.

  “Dinner’s ready!” Boyce sets down a steaming covered dish. Walt helps as they work t
ogether, filling each plate full of a chicken and vegetable mixture with melted cheese on top.

  I take a large bite and cover my mouth. “This is fantastic.”

  “All casseroles are. What’s not to love? You toss your ingredients in the dish, smother with cheese, and call it good,” Boyce replies. “Let’s hear all about you, darling. What brought you to this little podunk town?”

  “Umm, there’s not much to say I’m afraid. My father remarried at the resort. That’s what brought me here. I’m staying at my late mother’s cottage while they’re honeymooning.” I take another bite. “I have to ask—is this dish a casserole because you baked it in that special dish, or is that the general terminology used to describe the recipe?” I catalog the vegetables so I can attempt the dish myself. The buzz of the night amplifies in the sudden silence. I glance up. Walt and Boyce are giving me puzzled looks. I backtrack through the conversation, wondering where I faltered so early.