Falling for Home

by Jody Holford

  “Can be. He’s a good guy, and he’ll have chosen solid workers for this, so I think it’ll get done faster than you would expect.”

  “How was your day?”

  She liked listening to him tell her about his day, about routine callouts and interviewing people.

  “Do you think Jimmy has something to do with it?” she asked when he told her about the visit to the boys’ home. She rose to get a bottle of water but saw the $8.00 price tag and went to the tap instead.

  “I think he might know something, but I really don’t see him being part of it. It’ll come together. What do you have planned for tomorrow?”

  She took a quick swallow of water before answering him. “I’m meeting up with a couple more friends that I haven’t seen in a while. I want to … can you keep a secret?”

  “I’m not a girl, so probably,” he said. She could hear him shuffling around trying to get cozy. He probably wouldn’t say cozy either.

  “That’s sexist. And the only reason men can keep secrets is because they weren’t completely listening in the first place!”

  “What’s that?”

  She laughed as she crawled back into the bed, in just her T-shirt and underwear. She pulled the covers up and yawned. She had lived in New York briefly and had spent her days running from one end of town to the other without pause. Lucy wondered if all of her time in slow-paced villages and her own little hometown was making her a lightweight.

  “Anyway,” she said, stretching out the word, “I snooped in Kate’s email and found a rejection letter from a fashion house—a fashion house that I have connections with—and I wanted to talk to a friend there.”

  “I thought Kate wanted to be a social worker.”

  “Me, too. But, when I asked her about it, she got really pissed and clammed right up.”

  Lucy pumped up the pillows and piled them on top of each other.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t because her older sister was reading her private email.”

  “Okay, a little, but still. She was really weird about it. I just want to talk to my friend, see if they have an opening for an internship, and then if they do, maybe she’ll talk to me about it more.”

  She shrugged, even though he wasn’t beside her.

  “But if they turned her down…” he began.

  “This industry is 98 percent who you know.”

  “And who you sleep with?” Alex asked, the hard sarcasm not suiting him.

  “Sometimes. But I never worked that way, so I wouldn’t know personally.”

  “I’m sorry. I’d still really like to meet your ex-ass-clown-boss.”

  The sky outside the window by the bed was dark, and if she closed her eyes and listened to his voice, it felt like she was beside him.

  “He’s not worth it. I’m falling asleep, but I don’t want to hang up.”

  She could hear his smile through the phone, which she realized didn’t even make sense. But still, she could see him lying on his bed his lips turned up, his eyes half closed.

  “The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner you’ll be home. I want you home.”

  She was sure he meant it the way she had earlier in the conversation—home as in Angel’s Lake—but hearing him say the word home made everything inside of her come to attention. Her heart stuttered, and her breath hitched a little on its way out. Her stomach danced. He was silent, and she wondered if he knew what he had said—what it had sounded like. If he thought it would scare her off again … it didn’t. If anything, it made her want things she hadn’t thought or known she wanted. Maybe because, until now, she never had.

  Chapter 13

  Alex waited until Kate was all the way out of her car before pushing open his screen door and wandering down his porch steps. The sun was behind her, but she still wore large-framed, black, movie star glasses. She pushed her bag higher on her shoulder as she walked down the path that lined the driveway. When she noticed him, she shifted her sunglasses to the top of her head. He put his hands into his pockets and walked over his lawn.

  “Hey there, Sheriff.”

  Sometimes he wondered if anyone remembered his name. Lucy knew his name. Remembered it very well. Don’t go there right now.

  “Hey Kate. How was class?”

  “How did you know I had class?” She looked at him, arching a brow in a way that only made her look cuter—in a strictly little-sister way—rather than suspicious.

  “Well, I used my powerful super-sleuthing skills. College student. Backpack on her shoulder that looks a little heavy. I’m guessing that it has books in it. You’re arriving home at”—he paused to make a show of looking at his watch—”eleven o’clock. I suspect you had a morning class. Do you see now why I’m such a good police officer?”

  She laughed, sounding a bit like Lucy and hitched her bag farther up on her shoulder.

  “Here I thought it was just the sexy uniform.”

  “Brown isn’t sexy on anyone. And I hardly ever wear my uniform. Listen, do you have a couple of minutes? I’d like to talk to you,” he asked, changing his tone. Her brows drew together with immediate concern.

  “Did she dump you?” Kate asked, touching his arm. He was surprised at the spurt of anger he felt at the immediate assumption. He pulled his hands from his pockets and stepped back.

  “Why is that the first thing you would ask?” he demanded.

  “Well. It’s just…” she started but trailed off and looked at him as though her expression would finish her sentence.

  “Maybe you don’t know your sister as well as you think you do,” he countered.

  Her eyes widened, possibly at his tone, possibly at his words.

  “Or maybe you don’t. I love my sister—more than anything. But I see who she is. I know Lucy. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, but you look sad. What did you want to ask me about?”

  She walked toward her house and he followed, giving them both a second to smooth out the edges.

  “I didn’t mean to jump at you. I miss her. And that’s damn humbling to admit,” he told her, giving her a sidelong glance. She nodded as if she understood, but he didn’t think she really got it—he could barely wrap his head around how he was feeling.

  “So, what’s up?”

  “First, Sam has some guys willing to volunteer with the construction, so you’re going to be able to put some of the money to other uses,” he told her.

  “That’s wonderful!”

  “I thought you would like that. Second, I know you had teens helping out with painting, setup, and organizing programs that would be offered. How well did you know the kids helping out?”

  She stopped on the top stair of her parents’ porch and looked at him. They were eye level now.

  “I know their names and some of their history. They’re not all willing to talk, but the ones that are, I try to listen. Offer advice without seeming like that’s what I’m doing. Overall, I think a lot of them are good kids. Some aren’t, some have earned their reputation and are helping out as part of their rehabilitation,” she said thoughtfully. She shrugged again and pushed the screen door, holding it for Alex to follow after. She unlocked the white, heavy oak door with the glass panel revealing Julie Aarons sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Hey mom,” Kate greeted. Julie turned and Alex thought the genuine happiness on the older woman’s face made her seem considerably younger. Even if it hadn’t, it was easy to see where all three girls had gotten their attractive features.

  “Hi sweetheart! Oh, hello Alex. How are you?” she asked as she stood. She was a bit taller than Kate, but not by much. Also like Kate, she had smooth skin, dark hair, and happy eyes.

  “I’m good, ma’am. It’s nice to see you. Are you working on one of your books?” he asked, leaning down to give her a peck on the cheek when she leaned into him. She smelled like oatmeal cookies.

  Kate unloaded her backpack on the table beside the laptop and papers scattered there. The scarred, wooden, rectangular table was h
uge and gorgeous. Since moving in, Alex had been trying to find just the right one for his kitchen. Kate signaled from behind her mother’s back, shaking her head and slashing her hand across her throat. He chuckled, making Julie look back at her daughter, who froze before facing him again.

  “I certainly am. It’s about how to please yourself,” she shared. He watched Kate close her eyes and shake her head sadly.

  “Uh…”

  He didn’t know what to say to that, so he put his hands back in his pockets and rocked back and forth slightly. The front door slammed, and Mark hollered out that he was home. Alex sighed internally—he just wanted to ask Kate some questions.

  “It would seem you and my other daughter know very well about such things.” Julie smirked and moved to the counter where she opened a cookie jar that looked like a giant bear. Alex felt the heat move all the way up his neck and was positive that if he looked in a mirror, he would be redder than the tomatoes Dolores prided herself on growing.

  “Mom!”

  “What?”

  “Hello family! Hi there, Alex. I guess you kind of suit that label, too, don’t you?” Mark asked, walking into the kitchen with the strap of his laptop case slung over his shoulder. He was dressed casually for a college professor—Khaki pants and a pale blue, striped polo. Mark waggled his eyebrows at Alex, but he didn’t think he could go any redder. Mark moved toward his wife immediately and kissed her cheek with such obvious affection that Alex felt a gut-deep pang of envy.

  “Stop it, you two. You’re embarrassing him,” Kate defended with a look that clearly said Alex had brought this on himself.

  “As I said to Lucy, no reason to be embarrassed, dear. Here, have a cookie,” Julie said, passing him a large, slightly warm oatmeal chocolate chip cookie.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled like a teenage boy caught with his girlfriend. He was here on official police business. How the hell did this happen?

  Lucy waited in the lobby of Posh Magazine. Waited was a generous term. Mostly, she sat on the luxurious leather sofa trying to not actually touch it with her body. She was essentially doing the most excruciating squat possible, because the couch looked like it had never been sat on before. Four women—who had to be models—sauntered by, and Lucy had the horrible image of leaving a wide bum indentation on the couch as she stood. The quiet clacking of the keyboard was interrupted by evenly paced, heavy footfalls. She almost whimpered with joy when Kael finally joined her in the eerily still room. She stood, ignoring the cramp in her legs, and turned to see him. Immediately, she laughed and then was swallowed in a large hug.

  “The expression ‘sight for sore eyes’ was made for when people like me get to look at people like you,” he said in his low, gravelly, vibrato voice. He smelled like honey and felt warm like fleece. Kael Makhai was a hulking man who went against every stereotype the fashion industry could possibly have. He was also a brilliant designer, and some of Lucy’s best photographs had been of his work.

  “I don’t even know if that makes sense,” Lucy squealed, tightening her arms around his neck, one palm brushing the nape of his black buzz cut. He put her down but kept his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length.

  “Of course it makes sense,” he chided, lowering his voice to a whisper before continuing. “I spend my day with women who avoid food so they don’t get fat, avoid laughing so they don’t get wrinkles, and avoid friendship so they don’t get stabbed in the back.”

  She slapped his Hawaiian-shirt-covered chest and laughed louder than she should have, earning a glare from the pencil-thin, unsmiling receptionist, who looked like an ad for Business Management School. Snooty Business Management School.

  “Don’t be so negative. I know there’re plenty of awesome people in this industry,” she said, following along as he guided her across the gold-flecked tile flooring. “In fact, I saw Lola yesterday.”

  “You should have called me. We could have all gone to lunch. Like old times.”

  “I didn’t stay long, but it was good to see her, and it’s good to see you.”

  He didn’t walk so much as shuffle along as his size allowed. He wore canvas shorts and sandals. Not one person, in all the time she had known him, had ever guessed his occupation correctly. It always amazed her that this brusque, large-framed man with hands the size of her head could create the most delicate, intricate designs favored all over runways in Europe.

  “Good to see you, too, my girl. It has been too long.”

  They made their way past racks of clothes, half-naked women, doorways leading to design rooms, photo shoot rooms, unused lunchrooms, several bathrooms, a fitness room, and a lounging area. Off of the lounging area, Kael led her into an open room with a wall of windows. Heading straight for them, she gave a small gasp.

  “You can see all of New York from here,” she said in both awe and envy. There was nothing like a good view of New York on a perfectly clear day. Except maybe the view from a mountain on an equally clear day.

  “Pretty close,” Kael laughed, coming up beside her. “You know, they’re looking for a photographer here. I could put in a good word. We could work side by side again. Two thirds of the dream team.” Along with Lola, they had made quite the crew: designer, model, and photographer—a trifecta of friendship. A lifeline at times.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, grateful she had worn a purse that could be slung across her body effortlessly. Lucy looked up at her friend, his tanned skin on his round face stretched smooth. She bumped his hip casually with her own, or tried to, but she was considerably shorter.

  “That would be pretty amazing.”

  “But? Tell me this doesn’t have anything to do with that ass or the Africa assignment?”

  Eyes wide, she unfolded her arms and began looking around his chaotically organized space.

  “You heard about that?”

  “I heard a bullshit rumor and figured the rest out for myself.”

  “Yes, well, I guess I’m not always wanted just for my great photography skills,” Lucy tried to joke. She ran her hand over his design table, careful not to touch the actual page that showed some sketches of a dress he was designing. She eyed the way the delicate curve of the neckline created folds and ruching as it came down to curve over the chest. It cinched at the waist and then simply exploded in extravagance. A wide, intricately designed skirt—for which she knew he would use some sort of delicate material—flowed out like the ripples of the creasing had burst into a river of fabric.

  “Don’t do that. It pisses me off,” he said, bringing her attention back, shuffling to his desk and opening up his laptop.

  “What?”

  “Your photography speaks for itself. Yes, you’re gorgeous. But you get work based on your talent. Vincent is well known for being a sick bastard. That has nothing to do with you, and your reputation isn’t in question. Don’t doubt that. It pisses me off,” Kael repeated. Lucy shrugged and moved to his back counter where shelves lined the wall. He had fabrics laid out, sketch books open, and dozens of pencils scattered. She loved looking at his space—imagined having her own little spot where she could line her cameras along the shelves and hang her shots. She pushed the thought aside.

  “Anyway, you turned my sister down for an internship,” she said without censure.

  He looked up at her in surprise, his dark eyebrows arching, wrinkling his beautiful skin.

  “What? First, I didn’t know you had a sister that wanted into fashion. Second, when? I get hundreds of applications a day. Most of them, I don’t even read. I get my assistant to do it.”

  “Well, to be honest, I didn’t know Kate wanted to be in fashion, either, but she applied for an internship, and when I asked her about it, she got defensive and shut down.”

  Kael grabbed a pen and a small notepad before leaning over his desk.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Kate Aarons.”

  “So, she shut down and then asked you to pull some strings?”

 
Lucy tilted her head and narrowed her eyes in his direction. He put up a hand and laughed at her expression.

  “No. She doesn’t know I’m here. I want…” She didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

  The moment of quiet seemed unsettling and when the phone rang, she was grateful for the interruption. She moved back to the window and took in the skyline again, savoring it and locking it away.

  “You okay, Luce?” Kael asked from behind her. She heard his feet shuffling away and looked back to see him closing his office door.

  “Yeah. It’s just that…” she started. She turned to face him and sat on the thin window seat. “Since I’ve been home, I’ve started to realize how much I’ve missed. How much I haven’t been a part of.”

  “Because you’ve been part of something else. Many something elses. You’ve traveled all over the world and taken some of the greatest photographs I’ve ever seen.”

  “Thank you. And yes … but at what cost, K? My baby sister is graduating from university. My older sister just had a baby. My oldest niece is five now. Something is up with my mom. And being with my dad makes me realize how much I missed him. Them. They all take care of each other—”

  “Do you want them to take care of you?”

  She felt tears stinging her eyes and shook her head, unsure of how to explain or even of how she felt.

  “No. I guess. I don’t know. They take care of each other. I want to be part of that. Both ways.”

  Lucy wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands, rubbed her hands on her jeans brusquely, and stood up, smiling too brightly.

  “You want to do something for your sister. Even though she isn’t ready to confide in you,” Kael summarized, reading her as well as he always could.

  She nodded her head and bit the inside of her cheek to stop any further tears from falling.

  “Alright,” he said, moving back to his desk and picking up one of his cards. “Tell her to email me directly when she’s ready and remind me that she’s related to one of my favorite people.”

  She laughed and skipped toward him, making him laugh when she threw her arms around him. Or part of him anyway. He squeezed her back and placed an affectionate kiss on the top of her head.