Perfect Kind of Trouble

by Chelsea Fine

  “So he called,” I say in a near whisper. “And I didn’t return his calls.”

  I shake my head in silence, my jaw going slack. My father didn’t reject me or ignore me. He just couldn’t get ahold of me.

  Ellen reaches out and puts her hand on mine. “On behalf of James, I want you to know that your dad loved you very much. He spoke about you like you were an angel and he was extremely proud to be your father.”

  A tear falls down my cheek and onto the tablecloth. “I didn’t know…” I look at Ellen. “I was a horrible daughter.”

  She smiles. “No, baby. You were the best part of his life.”

  I didn’t know any of this. And now he’s dead and I can’t say sorry for being so hateful toward him for all these years. And my mother is dead so I can’t even confront her about all the pain she’s caused.

  My throat closes in, a slow choke wrapping around my neck with icy fingers of betrayal and regret as I blink.

  “Please excuse me,” I say with a cracking voice. “I have to…” I scoot my chair back abruptly and hurry from the dining room.

  I don’t know where I’m going, I just go. Through halls and rooms and out doors. I put one foot in front of the other until I find myself in a field of lavender under the morning sky. And there I crumple to the ground and sob against the pretty purple flowers.

  I sob for my mother and the way she broke my family. How she let my father shower her with love and affection, only to break his heart. How she hauled me away from our sweet hometown and raised me in a big city where I competed with her unending string of boyfriends for her attention. How she took advantage of my love and used me to fulfill her selfish needs. And finally, how she took her own life, the most selfish act of all, and left me all alone in this world.

  I sob for my father, who loved my mother despite her flaws and never gave up on her. How he made me sweet scavenger hunts and left me little notes for my locket. How he kept pictures of me and my mother up in the house. How he tried to call me, without an answer. How he made a scavenger hunt for me after his death as a sign of love, even though I hadn’t answered those calls. How he was proud of the baby girl he didn’t get to see all grown up.

  And I sob for myself and all the things I didn’t know. I sob for the hurt I blamed on my father and the many years I that believed he’d never sent us money. For the future I let my mother’s habits destroy, and the precious past I refused to let myself indulge in because thinking good memories about my father was too painful.

  And I sob for all the chances that I will never have to make any of these things right.

  I weep on the pretty purple flowers until there’s nothing left to blame or mourn. Then I turn over on my back and stare up at the sky. Lost.

  34

  Daren

  “So?” Ellen leans against the doorframe of my guest room and cocks her head.

  “So… what?” I ask as I finished making the bed.

  Ellen lifts a brow. “Are you going to tell me about this Kayla girl or what?”

  I exhale. “You’re really nosey, you know that?”

  She smiles. “I do, actually. I think it’s one of my more endearing qualities. So what’s the deal?”

  I shrug. “Old Man Turner left us some money, apparently. But the condition was that we had to be handcuffed together if we wanted to retrieve it.”

  Ellen laughs. Like full-on throws her head back and laughs at the ceiling. “That’s awesome.”

  “Not the word I’d use.”

  Her laughter tapers off but she keeps smiling. “Oh come on! James leaves you and Kayla an inheritance but forces you two to be handcuffed together for… how long has it been?”

  “Three days.”

  “Three days!” She laughs again. Then sighs. “I’m going to miss that ol’ weirdo.”

  I smile at the pillowcase as I pull it off the pillow to be washed. “Me too.”

  Her voice turns sincere. “How are you doing with… you know, everything?”

  There’s no point in pretending like I don’t know what she’s talking about because Ellen knows how to magically wiggle her way into my business and make it her own. And if I’m being honest, I kind of like the way she cares.

  I let out a long sigh. “I’m doing okay, actually. But Monique got repossessed.”

  She makes a sympathetic noise. “That’s too bad. You weren’t able to sell her, then?”

  “Nope. My dad was upside down on the loan. I’m trying to save up for a new car since I don’t know how I’ll get back and forth between all my jobs now.”

  She straightens in the doorway. “If you need a place to stay, you can always stay here. You can live here for free if you work here, you know. Now that Pixie’s moving out, her room will be free. And I have a feeling Levi’s room might soon be free as well.”

  “I told you already. I’m living with friends.”

  “Yeah, and you’re a terrible liar.” She smiles. “Listen, I know you haven’t taken me up on this offer in the past, but you can always live here, Daren.” She looks at me sincerely. “Always.”

  Warmth flows into my chest as I look at the sincerity in Ellen’s eyes. I haven’t felt so cared for since Marcella. In a lot of ways, Ellen reminds me of a younger, cooler Marcella. Always in a good mood. Always looking out for me and making me feel wanted and special. Man, I miss Marcella.

  I smile at Ellen. “Thanks. But for now, I’m good just working here.”

  She nods. “Oh! Speaking of which…” She pulls an envelope from her back pocket and hands it to me. “Here’s your paycheck.”

  I take it, puzzled. “Payday isn’t until next week.”

  She shrugs. “I got a little ahead of schedule this month. Oh, and there’s some cash in there too from your bar shift last week.”

  I peer inside and frown at the cluster of bills within. “I only covered for Angelo for a few hours.”

  “Well it seems the ladies—and their wallets—love the charming Daren Ackwood.” She shrugs nonchalantly, but I know it’s mostly an act. There’s no way I made this much cash last weekend.

  “Ellen…” I say, both frustrated and relieved.

  “Also, I called a repair guy today and he said he could pick up Kayla’s car from the lavender ranch and tow it back to Copper Springs tonight. Where should I tell him to park it?”

  I shrug. “Have him drop it off at Latecomers.”

  “Okay. Be ready to leave this afternoon, okay?” She turns to leave then pauses. “Hey, Daren?”

  I look up.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on with you and Kayla, but she had a rough morning. So maybe you should check on her.”

  My heart pounds. “Why? What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

  “Come downstairs when you’re done and I’ll fill you in,” she says, and disappears down the hallway.

  My first instinct is to run around the inn looking for Kayla until she’s in my arms and I know she’s okay. But then I remember how much she probably doesn’t want to see me and I stay put.

  I look back down at the envelope and count the cash inside and almost want to run after her and hug her. Typical Ellen. Always taking care of me when I don’t ask for help.

  * * *

  Last year, she found me lying in the middle of Canary Road in the dead of the night. Canary is the back road to get to and from Copper Springs from Willow Inn, and even though Ellen spends every waking minute at her inn, she lives in Copper Springs. She was coming back from buying supplies in town when she saw my wallowing ass and pulled her truck to stop at an angle, blocking the road.

  I was drunk and depressed, and didn’t give a damn anymore about, well, anything. Charity had just died two weeks prior and I was partly to blame. She and I had just broken up but ended up attending the same party one weekend. We were always breaking up and getting back together, but this particular breakup had been rough. I was hurt and moping around, so when a random girl at the party started kissing me I didn’t stop her. But Charity saw
us and stormed out of the party, completely drunk, and died in a car crash later that night. So I blamed myself for her leaving that party drunk and setting a series of tragedies in motion.

  My life was already a mess. My drunk dad had nearly killed Conner two months prior and sent my life spinning into a never-ending pit of debt and shame, so I’d already been on the brink of a mental breakdown before Charity’s death. But after…

  Like I said, I didn’t give a damn.

  I’m not sure if I was really trying to kill myself or not, but I certainly didn’t care either way, which is just as bad. I remember lying in the road with a pair of headlights shining on me, irritated that someone had found me and dared to interrupt the pity party I was trying to have in the street.

  Ellen stood over me, looking down at my pathetic existence with an arched eyebrow. Her striking good looks caught me off guard for a moment as I gazed up at her. She was wearing a flowy white shirt and had her dark hair loose around her face. She looked like an angel.

  I knew she was Pixie’s aunt, but Ellen and I had never spoken before.

  “Did you fall?” she asked me, glancing around to see where I had come from. Honestly, I didn’t even know.

  I shook my head, which was heavy with alcohol and heartbreak.

  She glanced me over. “Are you sober?”

  I shook my swimming head again.

  Her long hair slipped over her shoulder as she tilted her head and stared into me with her hazel eyes. Her voice softened. “Do you want some company?”

  I started to shake my head again, but it was too heavy and I was too exhausted to lie.

  Wordlessly, she lay down beside me in the road and looked up. I remember thinking it odd that this grown woman who barely knew me was willing to sprawl out on the dirty road for my benefit, but I was too hammered to ponder her reasons.

  She knew about Charity because Pixie and Charity were best friends. And she knew about my dad because his transgressions had been breaking news around town for the past few months. But she didn’t speak a word about either.

  We stayed shoulder-to-shoulder for several silent minutes. Just us and the headlights of her truck.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” she said after a while, staring up at the sky. “The stars are lovely.”

  I stared up at the darkness and all I saw were the things I had lost. My mom. Marcella. Charity. “I don’t see them.”

  She slowly nodded. “You will.”

  We stayed in that road for who knows how long before I finally pulled myself up with a groan, brushing off the dust and cursing the fog in my head.

  “Come on,” she said, helping me to my feet. “It looks like you need a ride home.”

  I snorted. In my head, I said, What home? But aloud I think it came out as, “Whamo,” as I stumbled into her.

  “Okay.” She caught me and tossed one of my arms over her shoulder so she could guide me to her truck. “I think I have just the place for you to sober up.”

  I don’t remember much after that. The next morning I woke up in the clean-smelling sheets of one of Willow Inn’s guest room beds, still wearing my dirty clothes from the night before. I smelled like hell. I looked like hell. But for the first time in several weeks, I didn’t feel like hell.

  Later that day, Ellen offered me a job as her stock boy so she wouldn’t have to drive back and forth from Copper Springs to Willow Inn as often. At first, I declined. But she got pretty demanding and, honestly, I needed the money. She offered me free room and board as well, but my prideful ass wasn’t ready to accept total defeat in my own independence yet. But I took the job. It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. One of the few.

  35

  Kayla

  After my little breakdown in the lavender field, Ellen told me not to worry about stepping in as a waitress for the inn today, but I insisted because I knew serving food would help take my mind off everything. And I was right.

  After serving the lunch rush for a few hours, I feel much better as I enter the kitchen.

  “So who’s Pixie?” I ask, pointing to the name written on an apron on the wall.

  “She’s Ellen’s niece,” Mable says. “Her real name is Sarah, but she also goes by Pixie. She worked with me all summer but she moved out yesterday because she’s starting college in a few weeks.”

  “Oh yeah,” I say, nodding as I think back to the Fourth of July party on the lake earlier this month. “I think I met her a few weeks ago. What is she studying?”

  “Art.” Mable smiles. “What about you?”

  “I was hoping to go to nursing school, but things changed and I came out here to take care of some family business.”

  Her face softens. “Ellen told me about your father. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “Thank you.”

  Her eyes fill with sympathy. “I’m so glad you have Daren to help you get through everything.”

  I inhale slowly, and quietly say, “Me too.”

  Even though he’s only been in my life for three days, Daren really has helped me get through things. But Mable was wrong. I don’t have him. At least not anymore.

  And… the tears are back. Dammit.

  Ellen enters the kitchen and I quickly get my emotions under control.

  “Hey, so I’ve been thinking about how you said you have no plans for, like, ever,” Ellen says. “And Mable’s been singing your praises all day—”

  “I have.” Mable smiles.

  “And since I need a part-time waitress,” Ellen continues, “I thought maybe we could help each other out. You could work here at the inn—just until you figure out what you want to do next, of course—and since I have a resident room opening up you live here for free at the same time.”

  My mouth falls open. “Are you being serious?”

  She nods. “I need the help.”

  I blink a few times, not sure what to say—or think. Having a new job in a new state away from all my crap back in Chicago would be wonderful. But having a place to live rent-free would be… well, incredible! And it’s not just any place. It’s a cute little inn, tucked away in a lavender field, free of rodents and cockroaches. And with the money I saved on rent, I would be able to go to college and pursue a career in nursing.

  I stare at Ellen, speechless.

  “You don’t have to answer me right now,” she says casually with a wave of her hand. “Think it over and let me know if you have any questions. And Mable?” Mable looks up from a pie dish. “That apple cobbler smells divine. I love you the most, you know that right?”

  Mable snorts. “You only love me the most when I have cobbler in my hands.”

  “And your point is…?”

  Mable smiles. “I will save some for you, as always.”

  “See?” Ellen smiles broadly. “Total love.” She turns and heads out of the kitchen. As I watch her walk away, my mind races with all the possibilities working at Willow Inn would give me. I could live in Arizona and start fresh. And I would be so close to Copper Springs…

  I’m not sure if that thrills me or stresses me out.

  Daren swings into the kitchen from the dining room with a rack of glassware in his hands. Our eyes meet and he stops walking. He opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything.

  What do I want him to say? Sorry? I know he’s sorry. If anyone should be apologizing for being a giant brat it should be me. But when I try to speak, nothing comes out.

  Mable makes herself scarce, coming up with some excuse about piecrusts, leaving Daren and I alone.

  “Hey,” he says, breaking our silence.

  “Hey,” I say back.

  He clears his throat. “Ellen told me about the e-mails from your mom… and everything.” His eyes fill with sympathy, searching my face with his lips parted like he wants to say something. But instead, he slowly wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. I hesitate only a moment before letting myself fall into his embrace with my cheek against his s
houlder.

  It’s just a hug. But the gesture is so sincere I could almost cry. Here in Daren’s arms, I feel significant. Safe. Visible.

  Loved.

  He exhales slowly and rests his cheek on my head, like he has no intention of releasing me anytime soon. I haven’t felt this cared for since the last time I saw my dad.

  It was the summer I was fifteen and he took me pretend fishing. I thought it was dumb at the time, because I was too old to go pretend fishing, but I played along because he seemed so excited about it. We sat by the river and talked about my mom that day. My parents had been divorced for nearly a decade at that point, but I’d never asked him about it.

  He told me that he loved her very much, and missed her every day, but she had made a decision to be without him and he wanted to respect that. He seemed heartbroken when he spoke so I asked him if he regretted marrying her.

  He smiled and said that if he’d never married my mother he would’ve never had me, and I was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He told me that being my father was the highest honor he could imagine and he’d go through heartbreak a thousand times over if it meant having me.

  I bite my lip. That was the last real conversation I ever had with my father. He tried to call a few times after mom died, but I was too grief-ridden and heartbroken to return his calls. Now I’ll never hear his voice again.

  A single tear rolls down my dirty cheek and lands on Daren’s shirt. I swallow and pull myself together, lifting my head with a sniffle. “I was wrong about my dad. He didn’t abandon me. He didn’t stop loving me.” My voice cracks. “I was wrong.”

  He looks at me sympathetically. “You were lied to.”

  I nod, scoffing as I stare at the floor. “You know the worst part?” I look back up at him. “I can’t fix it. I can’t apologize to my dad or yell at my mom. I’m all alone. I have no family. I’m just completely alone.”

  He slowly releases me and presses his lips together. “You’re not alone. You have me.”

  I look at him hesitantly. “I do?”