“Fran,” I whisper into her neck, “we’re both exhausted and I want you wide awake when I’m exploring you.” And that gets her attention.
She brings her head to my chest and exhales, making it apparent that stopping this is as hard for her as it is for me. “Your heart is beating so fast.”
I reach down and tilt her chin up, landing a chaste kiss on her lips. “That’s what you do to me…among other things.” I smirk, finally tearing myself away from her.
“To be continued,” she says with a seductive smile and a crimson flush on her cheeks.
“Oh, you can bank on that, sunshine. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
I have to summon every bit of willpower from the gods to keep walking and not sprint back to her, the only place I want to be. Instead, I’m going back to my room to get myself off again, while visions of Fran in her black bra and panties dance in my head, and I’m not talking about the one attached to my neck.
Peyton corners me by the buffet table during the lunch break. I ran late this morning and we haven’t had a chance to catch up from last night. “Are you okay? What happened last night?”
I let out a relaxed sigh, setting my briefcase down beside me and leaning a hand on the table. “Caleb said something that set me off. It wasn’t his fault. It’s just something my dad used to say to me and it forced a lot of bad memories to the surface.”
“I had a feeling it had something to do with your dad,” she says, her lips pulling down into a frown, “Caleb felt so awful last night, but I’m glad Matt went after you.”
“Yeah, me, too,” I tell her honestly, and I really am. “He was so supportive, especially after I showed him my scars.” I’m still letting everything that happened last night sink in and a part of me thinks it had to be a dream. I feel stronger today, like I can get through this. I can overcome.
“Ah, so I was right about him, was I?” she says with a cheeky grin and a lift of her brow.
“Yes, Peyton. You were right. He was…amazing.”
“Good. It’s nice to be right about something for a change. Lord knows I can’t please my mom in that department. Although, I talked to my dad this morning and he was so wonderful it’s hard to believe they’re married.” She cackles and her head falls back, her wavy locks tumbling down her shoulders. “What should we do later?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. My mom is in Santa Barbara and I’m actually headed there now to spend some time with her. Matt said I could take his car,” I add, a pleased smile appearing on my lips.
Her brown eyes widen in shock, and her mouth follows. “Holy shit!” she exclaims, “He’s letting you take his car?”
“Yes, he is,” a smooth voice says from behind her, both of us turning to find Matt looming just a few feet away.
My cheeks heat and an even bigger smile stretches my mouth. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. You ready?” He comes forward and holds out his hand to me, and I reach down and pick up my briefcase before taking it.
“I’ll see you later, Peyton.”
As we’re heading out, I glance back to see her grinning a cat-like smile, and I send a happy wink her way.
“I don’t mind telling you I’m scared to death to drive your car, Dixon. What if something happens to it?” I ask, my eyes going back and forth between Matt and his toy.
“Nothing’s gonna happen, Fran. You’ll be fine. It’s just a car,” he replies, but his Adam’s apple bobs as he takes a hard swallow and I know this is difficult for him.
“I want you to know I realize how hard this is for you and I really appreciate it.” I kiss his cheek before leaning back against the car.
He places a hand beside me and inches closer. “Just drive safely and text me when you get there.”
I clasp his arm, conveying a smile of reassurance. “I promise your car will be fine.”
He brushes his fingers across my temple, a batch of goose bumps flaring up on my skin. “It’s not my car I’m worried about.” He presses his lips to mine, lingering just enough for me to smell cinnamon on his breath.
“You smell like cinnamon or something. What have you been eating?”
“One of those sticky buns from the buffet,” he confesses with a childlike grin, lacing his fingers with mine.
“Yum. I’d love one of those for the road, but I don’t think it would be good for your upholstery.”
“Nah. I’d tend to agree with you on that one,” he says, his lips twitching in response. “So…maybe I’ll see you tonight if you don’t get back too late.”
“I think that can be arranged.” I’m positive that I want to see him. In fact, I want to do a lot more than just see him.
He walks me around to the driver’s side and holds the door open. Once I’m tucked inside, he bends forward and props his elbows on the window frame. “Have fun.” He gives me one more quick peck before backing away reluctantly, his hands shoved deep in his pockets looking for something to do.
I wave one last time before I watch his figure disappear in the rearview mirror, my stomach twisting in knots, and I know with absolute certainty that whatever this is we’re doing means something. I just don’t know what the hell that is yet.
The drive to Santa Barbara is picturesque; an eclectic mix of long stretches of beach, cottage-style shops, and quaint art galleries. This is so far removed from the rush of LA and I love it. There aren’t throngs of people everywhere, nor are there congested highways filled with cars. People are out for casual strolls or sitting outside cafes enjoying the sunshine and a good meal. The creative side of me wants to go explore the shops, check out all the local artists, and be a tourist for a change.
I feel surprisingly at peace today, especially after last night. My heart beats a little bit faster at Matt’s unique ability to, in many ways, set me free. I hope to do that for Mom today, to finally rid her of the tremendous burden that has plagued her, the anchor of guilt weighting her down, not allowing her to truly move on with her life. As a child it was hard to understand, but I can clearly see now that there was no way she could have known what my father was doing to me. She was paralyzed by her own fear, not to mention the amount of time she spent outside the house working to support us. Even when she was around, my father insisted on being the one to supervise my bath-times, always counting on my absolute fear of him preventing me from ever telling her or anyone else the truth—until the day he made the mistake of passing out drunk and she made the discovery on her own, one that changed our lives forever.
Tears prick my eyes and I blink, shutting off my past. I dig in my purse for my cell phone when I notice something crinkly blocking my path. My hand reaches in to find a jumbo package of Red Vines licorice with a handwritten note card: Twizzlers suck.
“HA!” I laugh and realize once again Matt’s uncanny ability to make me smile just when I need it most. Veering the car over to the side of the road, I rip open the package and bite off a small chunk that is noticeably firmer in texture and not as sweet as my favorite addiction, immediately bringing me to the conclusion that Twizzlers are still the best. I reach for my cell phone and send a quick text to Matt.
Thanks for the Red Vines. They still suck in comparison.
I get an immediate response.
Your taste buds are obviously off, and I hope you’re not driving and texting.
I type back.
No, pulled over to sample the sucky licorice.
His reply.
Ha, ha. Good. Have fun with your mom.
I don’t really have a smart comeback for that one so instead I text Mom and let her know I’m on my way.
I steer my luxurious ride into the parking lot of the Santa Barbara Shellfish Company, a weathered little restaurant nestled across from the sprawling blue ocean. The atmosphere is laid back and unpretentious just like Mom, with old oak tables, worn leather chairs, and pictures of fishermen catching lobsters scattered along the walls. A young girl with a t-shirt bearing the restaurant name greets me
when I walk in.
“Hi, welcome to Santa Barbara Shellfish.”
Mom sees me instantly and springs up from her chair. Warmth spreads through me at the sight of her, mixed with a twist of sadness at her haggard appearance. She wastes no time, embracing me in her arms lovingly, holding me as only a mother can hold her child.
“Mom,” I whisper, my head nuzzled in her neck, breathing in that inexpensive fruity perfume she’s worn since I was a little girl. Some things never change.
“Baby,” she chokes out, and she’s already crying. “I’m so happy to see you. Let me look at you.”
She grasps my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length, and as she’s perusing my appearance, I’m doing the same. With her dark tresses, sculptured cheekbones, and light green eyes, we are the mirror image of one another. As I take in her presence though, I notice the creases surrounding her eyes, the sag of her clothes, and the gray in her hair. She looks much older than the last time I saw her and it causes a dull ache in my chest.
“You look wonderful, sweetie,” she says, her eyes brimming with pride. “Come, let’s sit.”
We grab a table by the window with a great view of the ocean. This was the perfect place for us to meet. She and I are very similar in that neither of us likes pretention. I may have a love for expensive things, but it doesn’t define me and I don’t flaunt it.
She reaches for my hand with a soft smile. “I’m so glad I got this chance to see you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot and decided we need to try to see each other more often. I love our phone calls but it’s not enough, you know?”
“I’d like that….” I pause, letting the warmth of her aura wash over me. “You look tired, Mom. Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course, sweetie. I’m just working a lot of hours at the salon and picking up some additional shifts at the restaurant to make extra money.” She takes a sip of one of the waters the waitress left for us. “I’m fine, though. Really I am.”
I hand her a menu and open one for myself. “So how long are you staying at Vivian’s?”
“Just until Sunday. Then I’m going back home. How is this conference of yours going and more importantly, how are you enjoying your new position as design manager?”
I close the menu, already knowing that I want the lobster. It’s kind of a no-brainer for me. “It’s good. I’m liking it a lot. The only part I don’t like, as you know, is the travel. But I managed to get through the flight okay, and the trip is going really well.”
“What was that?” she asks, a smile curving up one side of her mouth. “That little twinkle I see in your eye?”
“Mom, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t ‘Mom, what are you talking about’ me. What’s responsible for that twinkle, or should I say who?” She taps her fingers on the table waiting for an answer.
“You’d never even believe it if I told you, Mom,” I offer, having a hard time believing it myself.
“Try me,” she replies, removing her hand from mine, crossing her arms and leaning into the table with interest.
“So I ran into someone at the conference. Someone who is Brad’s brother,” I say, trying to wipe the ridiculous smile off my face while I’m speaking, which is utterly impossible.
“Brad as in Gabby’s Brad?” she asks, and I can see the wheels spinning as she tries to put two and two together.
“Yes, that one. Well….” I let out a happy sigh. “I ran into him at the conference and we’ve been spending quite a bit of time together. I like him…a lot. Although.…” I know I’m starting to babble. “I’m leaving next week, so we’re just having some fun and enjoying each other’s company. It’s nothing serious because we don’t even live near one another and well, that’s that, really.”
She presses a finger to her mouth with a smirk while she nods her head, the words continuing to tumble endlessly from my lips.
“So that’s it. It’s nothing really, but he’s a nice guy and he’s…really changed my perspective in some ways.”
“Hmph,” she replies, “yes, it sounds like you really like this boy.”
“Mom, he’s not a boy, he’s a man,” I say, a fact I’m fully cognizant of, and my skin tingles with that awareness.
“Well, I’m delighted, honey. It seems like you might finally be ready to move on from Kyle, and while I know that was difficult for you, it’s time. You deserve to be happy.”
“So do you, Mom.”
The waitress comes over to take our order and we make it very simple for her by both ordering the lobster special with extra melted butter on the side. We hand her our menus and she walks away.
“Fran, I’m just fine. Work keeps me very busy and when I have time I see my friends.”
Another waitress stops by to place a basket of bread with squares of butter in the center of the table. I reach over to break off two pieces of bread, handing one to Mom first.
“Still the carbohydrate queen,” she teases, and I laugh at the truth in her statement. Give me pasta, bread, or rice any day of the week and I’m a happy girl.
“Mom,” I begin, wanting to gather my thoughts together so my words come out right, “I—”
“Oh!” she interrupts, “I almost forgot!” She reaches for her purse on the chair and digs through it for something, a huge smile appearing once she’s found it. “So my friend Vivian likes those knick-knack things and I was in the basement the other day going through one of the boxes and putting some aside for her when I came across something I thought you might like to have.” She pushes a zip lock bag across the table that’s filled with tissue paper. “Open it.”
I pull open the bag with both excitement and curiosity, taking a quick glance at her face but she gives nothing away. As I rip the tissue paper apart, something gold and shiny falls out and my green eyes fly up to the twin pair across the table. A lump forms in my throat and I close my eyes that are now filling with tears. She lays her hand on my arm as I clutch the precious object firmly to my chest, and the memory comes rushing back.
I turned nine years old today and I got to be with Mommy. She didn’t work tonight so we could celebrate with my favorite chocolate cake and fudge ripple ice cream. Daddy wasn’t there when I blew out my candles because he was snoring on the couch and he smelled really bad so I didn’t want him anywhere near my cake.
After I blew out my candles, I made a wish that Mommy would never leave me again, that she would stay with me and Daddy would be the one to go away.
She let me have two pieces of cake and three scoops of ice cream, and she let me finger paint with my ice cream when I was done. I kept leaping off my seat like we did at my friend Tina’s birthday party when we played musical chairs, peeking out to make sure Daddy was still sleeping. He would’ve been mad at us if he had seen the mess we were making. I didn’t like it when Daddy got mad.
“I have something for you,” she whispered, taking a small pink box with a matching bow from her purse and I perked up in my chair.
“Yay! A present! I love presents, Mommy!” I tried to keep my voice down because I didn’t want to wake up Daddy.
“Of course, baby,” she said with her pretty smile and her big green eyes. “It’s something special for my sweet girl. Go ahead, open it.”
I untied the bow and popped open the top of the box. Inside was a gold necklace with half of a gold heart hanging from a chain. “It’s so pretty, Mommy. But…where is the other half?”
“Right here,” she said, scooping her shiny, dark hair away from her neck.
I opened my mouth and a strange sound came out. “Mommy, you’ve got a half, too,” I said, so excited that Mommy also got a special necklace. “If we put them together we can have one big heart, Mommy!”
“That’s right, sweet girl. You see, you’re the other half of my heart, so even when I’m not right next to you, you’re always with me…and I’m always with you.”
“Oh, Mommy,” I cried, tears mixing with the chocolate on my cheeks while Mommy came o
ver and hugged me so tight, I felt the other half of the heart beating underneath me. “I love it, Mommy. Can you put it on me, please?”
“Sure, baby,” she said, and she lifted my messy nest of hair and clasped it around my neck before letting it fall back over my shoulders.
“It’s so pretty, Mommy.”
“Just like you.” She looked over at me, smiling at the frosting in my hair and globs of ice cream on my pink shirt. “We need to go get you clean so you can be ready for school tomorrow.”
I hopped off my chair and ice cream dripped onto the floor as I looked around the corner into the living room. My tummy started to hurt and I felt like I might throw up. “Daddy likes to get my baths ready,” I told Mommy.
“Daddy is sleeping, sweetie, and you need to get clean. Come on.” She pulled on my little hand and I went with her, but I knew soon that I was going to be in big trouble with Daddy, and when we reached the bathroom, I started shaking.
I stood in the corner pressed against the wall while Mommy filled the bathtub up with water and strawberry bubbles.
When it was half-full she turned around to me. “Come here, Fran. Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes.”
“No. I can do it myself, Mommy.”
My heart started beating very fast and I wanted to run away, but I didn’t move because it felt like my feet were stuck in mud, and my fingers and toes felt weird, like someone was tickling me but I couldn’t laugh.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Mommy asked, and when I didn’t move she crawled over and kneeled in front of me. “You’re crying. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I couldn’t answer her because I wasn’t supposed to tell and now I wasn’t only scared for me, I was scared for Mommy, too. I just stood there shaking my head as Mommy wiped away my tears with her soft fingers.
“Let’s get you undressed. I think a nice, warm bath will make you feel better.”
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