Identity of the Heart (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 1)

by Mary Crawford

  “I suppose it’s too late to turn around and go back home?” I ask, only half joking.

  Rogue chuckles as she replies, “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about Marc. He’s only burning off some nervous energy.”

  “Well, does he have to do it so publicly?”

  “Look on the bright side, nobody here knows us from Adam. So, it doesn’t make any difference how badly we suck, we’ll live to sing another day.”

  I groan as I respond. “Actually, that’s what I’m afraid of. It seems like Marcus makes a habit of public spectacles.”

  “Don’t worry, you get used to it… after two or three years,” Rogue deadpans.

  Before I can even blink, Marcus scoops up a twin on each arm and escorts them to the stage over a pretty heated protest coming from Ivy. Finally, she acquiesces after she’s allowed to pick the song. As they punch the song into the karaoke machine and arrange themselves on stage, I have to admit that Marcus looks like a seasoned rock star and the twins look like his professional backup singers. I don’t know if they intended to, but they even dressed similarly today, although Ivy’s outfit is a little more conservative than Rogue’s.

  I decide to film the song with my cell phone because I figured that they would want this as a memento of their first big road trip. I guess it really shouldn’t surprise me that the trio is actually quite talented. Isn’t long before the crowd is totally into their rendition of Pharrell Williams Happy. By the time they finish the song, Ivy and Rogue have completely lost all evidence of nerves. In fact, Ivy seems to have stepped into her former role as a cheerleader and is encouraging the crowd to sing along. When the song is over, Rogue and Ivy can barely contain their laughter.

  “That was so much fun! I want to do it again!” Ivy urges as she tries to drag Rogue back on stage.

  Marcus throws an arm around Ivy’s waist and pulls her into his lap. “Whoa Sugar, it didn’t take long for the bug to bite you. But, do you mind if we get a bite to eat first? The wings here are awesome.”

  “I could eat some wings. Would you ladies like something to drink?” I offer, pulling out Rogue’s chair. “Since my driving tasks are done for a while, I’m going to have a beer.”

  Rogue wrinkles her nose. “I’m not much of a drinker. Lord knows, Marcus has tried to convert me, but I don’t really like it much. I guess I’ll just have whatever’s on tap, but make it light.”

  I make an involuntary choking sound. “I think I see your problem; most people would have difficulty liking that stuff. It’s a little like drinking a side of warm piss with your meal. There’s nothing appetizing about that. You know, I can afford to spring for the good stuff,” I tease.

  Rogue laughs softly at my joke but says, “You know what? I’m just going to play it safe and order a Dr. Pepper instead.”

  Ivy just shakes her head and says, “Well as long as this isn’t going on my bill, I have no such qualms. I’ll take a Hefeweizen please.”

  Rogue’s eyes widen as she asks, “A what? Did you just order a drink? It sounds like you just sneezed.”

  Ivy laughed as she responds, “No, it’s a German beer made of wheat. My dad is a beer and wine connoisseur, so he’s been boring me with lectures about this stuff long before I could ever try it.”

  “Is it any good?” Rogue asks curiously.

  Ivy shrugs as she answers, “You know, it kind of reminds me of homemade bread. You can try some of mine.”

  “All right, the wings come in teriyaki, mild, medium, hot and ‘Don’t-Kiss-Anybody-For-a-Week’. What’s your pleasure?”

  Ivy and Rogue instantly respond, “Hot!”

  Marcus stares at them both in surprise. “Are you guys sure? Even smelling their straight-up hot buffalo wings are enough to bring tears to my eyes.”

  I can tell Ivy is really tempted to pat Marcus on the head as she replies, “Yes, I’m sure. I go through about a bottle and a half of Sriracha sauce in a month. My family thinks I’m certifiably nuts.”

  Rogue high-fives Ivy as she says, “Oh my Gosh! I thought I was the only person on the planet who did that. At least it’s getting a little more common in the stores now and I don’t have to special order it over the Internet.”

  Marcus looks at the two of them with a slack jaw as he comments, “I’ve got mad respect for the two of you. I can barely eat the green salsa at Taco Bell without sweating.”

  “You’d be amazed how many small start up companies there are that specialize in producing barbecue and hot sauce with the word pain in the name. I helped a guy set up a domain name once and did a little bit of marketing research and I was shocked,” I interject. “Would you ladies like potato skins or mozzarella sticks with those?”

  “Mozzarella sticks,” they reply in unison.

  Marcus smirks as he says, “Well, at least that simplifies ordering.”

  After we finished eating, Rogue and Ivy make their way to the stage. Marcus nudges me and comments, “You do realize they are the hottest women in here, right? How do you suppose a couple of guys like us got that lucky?”

  “You’re the one that looks like a rock star, I have no idea why I’m here.”

  “I don’t know, it seems to me that Rogue thinks you’re pretty cool. I’ve never seen her pay attention to anything outside of work or school before and you seem to be front and center in her life. So, I’d say you’re making some progress.”

  Just then, the speakers come to life with the Sister Sledge song, We Are Family. The twins are facing each other belting out the song with fantastic finesse and great enthusiasm. The crowd is having a raucous good time. But, they have no way to guess that there’s a deeper meaning to the words for Ivy and Rogue. So, they're a little confused when in the middle of the song, Rogue gets choked up, sets the mic down and gives Ivy a teary hug. By the end of the song, they are both openly weeping.

  By nature, I'm a pretty logical, analytical kind of guy. Emotions are buried pretty deep in me and I don't show them to many. As the ladies return to the table, I have to discreetly wipe my tears away before I gather Rogue to my chest.

  Ivy taps me on the shoulder. "Tristan, this time, she's having a tough time. But, I don't think she needs my help. I think she needs you. You got it?"

  "Yeah, I've got her. Go give your man a cuddle. He's so worried about you that he's about to have an apoplexy."

  I drop my arm around Rogue's shoulders in a protective gesture as I escort her through the crowded tables out to a secluded outdoor patio. Surprisingly, it's completely abandoned. I gesture to a small wrought-iron bench. "Shall we sit?"

  “Umm, no. I think I need to move. I'm feeling a bit claustrophobic. Do you mind?” Rogue asks anxiously.

  “No, I don’t mind. I’ve sat enough today to last a while.” I extend my elbow to her in the old-fashioned gesture of gallantry as we exit the patio on to the sidewalk. But, I hesitate as I say, “Give me a second to text Marcus and let him know that we’ll be gone for a few minutes.”

  “Good idea, let me tell Ivy that I’m okay too, although she probably has already figured that out through our weird connection.”

  After we resume walking I ask her, “Have things really improved or are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

  Rogue shrugs eloquently. “It’s a moment by moment thing. Sometimes this all seems like it’s going to be the most epically cool thing that’s ever happened to me and it explains most of the weirdness in my life. If I start to think about it too hard, it opens up so many more layers of weird. I can’t even fathom all the decisions I’m going to have to make in the next few weeks and months because of this discovery. I was barely coping with all the chaos in my life before I met all of you and you all have made it infinitely more complicated.”

  I turn to face her holding both of her hands in mine. “So, how can I un-complicate it for you?”

  “I don’t know. I guess you just need to be here when it all blows up. I think you’ve already tried to fix things for me once. It’s not that I don’t appreciat
e it; but, I don’t even know how to process your help. I mean, I guess today is officially our first date and you’ve already spent hundreds of dollars to fix my car. Who does that? It kind of stresses me out. What if you start to date me and you decide that you can’t stand my taste in music or the way I chew my food?”

  “I’d like to think that I’m not that superficial and shallow. If for some reason we decided that we’re not right for each other, I’d like you to consider the car repairs as a simple gift. Consider it good karma for all the nice things you’ve done for other people in the world.”

  “That’s far too generous,” Rogue starts to argue.

  I try not to let my agitation show but I finally say, “Look, I don’t talk about money very often. But, you need to know that as a percentage of what I’m worth, the cost of me paying for your car repair is about equivalent to you buying me a video game. I’m really not worried about it. I don’t expect anything in return and I’d really rather not even talk about it again. I just did it so that you could be safe. It’s really that simple. I had no other ulterior motives. If I was trying to be impressive, I could’ve bought you a car dealership chain, not merely make the necessary repairs to your car.”

  “Well, your argument might have been on a little firmer moral ground had you not had them completely upgrade my stereo system to the most premium sound system available in the entire store. That’s where your argument starts to fall apart. You did not have to get my vehicle equipped with a hands-free mobile system I could’ve picked up an inexpensive device at RadioShack that would’ve probably worked just as well.”

  “That’s probably true. You could’ve gotten something economical and sensible, but, what fun is that? I have the means to spoil you and I fully intend to. I really haven’t taken the time to enjoy the perks of my job. Maybe you’ve given me a good reason.”

  “Tristan—I was going to call you by your middle name, but, I realize that I don’t even know it—don’t use me as an excuse to be irresponsible. You worked hard for that money. Give it to a good cause—like I don’t know… Big Brother/Big Sister or the Ninth Ward in Louisiana. Something…anything…other than me. I’m not a charity case.”

  I massage my temples. Obviously something is getting lost in translation. It’s clear I’m not coded to speak ‘woman-speak’ well. Give me ones and zeros and I’m all over it, but this multilayered emotionally heavy stuff has me talking in circles. I take another run at it.

  “Riley, my middle name is Riley, because with a name like Tristan what else would it be? Still, I must be giving the wrong message. I think you are one of the most capable people I’ve met in a very long time. Your energy and creativity are a sight to behold. I’m in total awe. I’m not doing these things for you because I think you need to be bailed out like some dilapidated charity. I do nice things for you because I like you and it makes my heart happy to see you smile.”

  “Um, wow,” Rogue says, swallowing hard. “There’s not a whole lot of room for misinterpretation there.”

  “Nope, I thought that was the whole point of talking things through. Should I have left more mystery? I’m never quite sure of the proper balance.”

  “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one that’s confused. The only thing that I am pretty sure of right now is that I like you too. Beyond that, it’s all pretty much a muddled mess. If you’re patient enough to stick around while I figure it all out, more power to you. But, for the record, you do not have to buy me things to make me smile. I think you’re a pretty smart and clever guy. Just being around you makes me smile.”

  “Just to be clear—it’s not against the ‘Rules of Dating Rogue’ to buy you something nice every once in a while, is it?”

  “It depends… are we talking about dinner and movie tickets or shares in Apple?” she challenges with a raised eyebrow.

  I chuckle because it hasn’t taken her long to figure out my number. I shake my head as I argue, “Nice is nice. You don’t get to choose your surprises. It’s all relative.”

  “I find that oddly frightening.”

  “That makes it all the more fun,” I answer with a mischievous grin. “Do you know how many women look at me and only see dollar signs? It’s discouraging. You’re the first person who I’ve had a real conversation with in as long as I can remember. Most people are too busy calculating what I can do for them. I have to say, it’s a totally refreshing change of pace.”

  Rogue studies me for a few long moments. “How odd. We’re at polar opposites of the social spectrum and on the surface we really shouldn’t have anything in common, but it seems you have even less reason to trust people than I do. That’s a pretty sad commentary on modern life, if you ask me.”

  “I think you’re right. I think we have a lot of things in common. As far as my social station in life goes. I think you have forgotten that this is a pretty new thing for me. I’m not that far removed from collecting cans to be able to make my rent.”

  “Are you ever afraid you’ll end up back in that place?”

  “Sometimes, in my deepest nightmares, I am. I think that’s why I still work crazy hours, even though the financial folks that work for me and tell me that technically I could retire to some beach somewhere with a frosty drink, complete with an umbrella.”

  Rogue breaks eye contact with me and looks down at her feet as she mumbles, “I actually have never had the pleasure.”

  “Really? How long have you lived in Florida?” I ask, incredulous. “I thought it was a rite of passage.”

  “Me too. When I lived in Vermont, I used to fantasize about what it would be like to live here. I used to think that I would live in a cute little ocean front condo and go to beach parties every weekend. Instead, I live in an apartment that’s approximately the size of a crackerjack box that backs up to a dilapidated bowling alley and I share custody of it with cockroaches which have lived several generations longer than I’ve been alive.”

  It’s all I can do not to growl out loud when I hear about her living situation. “Marcus needs to pay you more. I’ve seen the quality of your work and you deserve a raise.”

  “Believe me, he’s offered several times. Still, I can’t take advantage of our friendship like that. I need to be treated just like every other apprentice in the industry—otherwise I won’t ever be respected.”

  I softly brush kiss against her forehead. “You are certainly a fan of the road less traveled. How about if I keep you company on your path?”

  IT’S EXTREMELY HARD FOR ME to pay attention to what’s going on around me because I’m worried about my sister. It’s still bizarre to think of her in those terms. But, for me she really has always existed. I just didn’t know she was real.

  Marcus taps me on the shoulder and I about jump out of my skin. “It’s gonna be all right. I’ve known Ro for a long time and she’s a tough cookie. Tristan will take care of her, I’m sure.”

  “Oh, I know. She’s already feeling better. I just wish I didn’t upset her so much. I had no idea that signing up for a stupid dating site would lead to so much turmoil.”

  “Wait a second!” Marcus exclaims. “I’d like to think it’s led to a little more than that. I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but there’s a lot more to me than just turmoil.”

  I fight the urge to stick my tongue out at him. “Talk about taking what I said out of context…I meant the sisterly relationship, smart aleck. Although, my presence in your life probably isn’t doing any favors for your relationship with Rogue.”

  “You’d be surprised. Rogue’s been trying to match me up with her friends for a while. So, you could consider us the ultimate blind date.”

  “If you say so. But, you have to admit that it’s got elements straight out of any cheesy daytime soap opera.”

  “I’m surprised a good girl like you would waste your time watching soap operas. Speaking of wasting time, let’s go sing a song. We shouldn’t let great karaoke go unsung.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me. Bu
t, I’m slightly afraid to let you choose the song.”

  “If you’re feeling brave, there’s always the option of allowing the karaoke machine to choose the track for you,” Marcus challenges. “Well, after the last song, it’s not as if I have a whole lot of dignity left to preserve. I say let’s go for it.”

  Marcus rubs his hands together in glee as he says, “This ought to be good.”

  Marcus places his arm around my waist and snugs me up to his side as we walk up to the stage.

  Marcus programs the machine to make a random choice for us and when we turn around to face the audience, someone shouts, “What happened to the other one? Did you lose her? I’ll be more than happy to take her off your hands.”

  Marcus laughs as he replies. “Thanks for the offer, but it’s not necessary. She’s my buddy’s girlfriend. Only this one’s mine.”

  Another voice from the audience pipes up, “Don’t you ever get them mixed up?”

  “Nah, not really. They aren’t actually that much alike when you look closely. In fact, they have completely different personalities.”

  The first guy says, “It’s too bad the first girl had a boyfriend, it would’ve been fun to have identical twins.”

  Much to Marcus’s credit, he visibly shudders at the comment as he responds, “No thanks, I think I’ll pass. That’s not a fantasy I’ve ever had.”

  I about swallow my tongue when I hear the opening notes of the song that the karaoke machine has chosen for us. It’s the Katy Perry and John Mayer song, Who You Love.

  In light of the conversation we just had, there is a certain degree of irony in the lyrics of this song. However, it is a little bit awkward considering that we’ve just now officially started dating.

  On the surface, Marcus is everything my conservative, by-the-numbers dad is likely going to hate on sight with his wild hair, piercings and tattoos. But, if my dad can look past all the superfluous differences, I think he’ll find that they actually have a lot of stuff in common. They are both small business owners who bucked family tradition to forge their own path in the world. My dad comes from a family whose legacy includes several generations of firemen and policemen. Although my dad thinks those are fine professions, they were not ideal matches for him. He preferred to see the world through the much more ordered and precise prism of numbers and accounting rather than adventure and adrenaline.