“I have a date, too. I’m gonna go get ready myself,” he says, kissing my cheek and walking away. I head up to the house and look around, making sure everything inside is done, too. I turn down the hall and knock on Haven’s door.
“Come in,” she says. When I open the door, she’s fiddling with the zipper on a short, pale-pink dress. “Oh, hey. Can you give me a hand?”
“Course,” I say, walking over and helping her close it up. I look over her shoulder at our reflections in the mirror. To the plain eye, you’d never know we share DNA. Green eyes to brown, pale skin to dark. But now that I’ve spent time with her, now that she knows about me, and I know about her, I feel like her sister. And as we look at ourselves, I feel like I notice the tiniest bit of a resemblance.
“What are you wearing?” she asks. I hold up the dress I brought, and she nods to her bathroom for me to change. I pull the dress on and look at the mirror. I might be wearing a dress, but I’m a hot mess per usual. My head is a little shiny from being outside; my hair is flat to my shoulders. I grab my bag and put on some mascara, but it doesn’t seem to do much.
“Do you have any hairspray?” I ask. And then we both pause. She gives me a knowing look and shakes her head slowly. She tugs on one of her perfect curls.
“Don’t really need hairspray here,” she says. I swallow and nod.
“Right, yeah.”
“But I could do something to it, if you want? I actually really like doing hair. And your hair is like Gran May’s.”
I smile at her and nod.
After a few minutes, she has twisted and pulled my hair up into a perfect updo that looks fit for a bride—or at least a wedding guest.
“You look great,” she says. I stand up and tug my dress into place a bit.
“So do you,” I say. As we stare at each other for a minute, she steps toward me and, much to my surprise, wraps her arms around me. I let out a gasp as I hug her back.
“I’m so glad you’re what she always hoped you’d be,” she says. When she steps back, I see there’s a tear in her eye, and I can feel them welling in my own, too. “I’ll see you out there.”
I walk out of her room, tugging my sandals on as I go, when I hear someone whistle.
“Hot damn,” Derrick says, and it makes me jump. “I was waiting here for my date, but I think I’d rather take you instead.”
I smile and shake my head as I walk toward him, and he slinks a hand around the back of my neck as he kisses me. He steps back, and I take him in. Derrick in nothing is perfect. Derrick in a suit is a pretty close second.
“I think that can be arranged,” I whisper, biting my lip. He offers me his arm and a sly smile, and we walk out the back door. Guests have started to arrive, and Derrick is saying hi and introducing me to people as we walk past. I’m sure I’ve met most of them, and I’m trying desperately to put names with faces as we walk by. I can see them eyeing us; I can see their wondering eyes as he leads me by hand to the front row. The seats around us continue to fill up until, finally, the band starts to play the “Wedding March.” Derrick leans in to me to whisper.
“That’s my cue,” he says then stands up and walks to the front. He stands on the right side of the arbor and winks at me one more time. As the music plays, Luna makes her way down the aisle, followed by Jules. Teddy and one other groomsman line up behind Derrick, and Alma takes the seat next to me. Haven stands at the head of the aisle, handing out programs.
And then, at the top of the aisle stands Annabelle in a bright-pink dress, her chestnut hair braided into an adorable bun. In one hand, she carries a single lily. The other holds Ryder’s hand.
“Let’s go, Daddy,” she says, and the crowd gives off a collective “aww” as they start to make their way. Ryder clutches her hand tightly as she leads him down, but his eyes never falter from the arbor. When they get to the end of the aisle, Derrick reaches out to grab Ryder’s arm and leads him to his spot. He whispers something in his ear, and they both laugh. Ryder kneels down to kiss Annabelle, and she scurries off to take a seat with Haven and Alma and Mila’s mother.
Then the music plays again, and Mila appears at the top of the aisle on her father’s arm. Her dress is simple and flowy, hugging the curves of her body. Her brown locks lay in casual waves off her shoulders, and though I’ve been to some very expensive black-tie weddings, she’s the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. I look at Ryder, and I know he can’t see her from the distance. But I know he can feel how beautiful she is. And as she gets closer, he wipes a single tear from his cheek.
After the ceremony, people scatter throughout the tables, on the lawn, on the dock, laughing, talking, and drinking. Mila’s mother takes Annabelle home, and Camille takes her and Teddy’s kids home. The dancing starts on the patio when it gets dark, and as I’m listening to Lou talk about the bar, I feel a tap on my shoulder.
“The dance floor is open,” Derrick tells me as he spins me toward him. “Uh-uh, sir,” Luna calls. “You still owe me a dance from Ryder’s first wedding.” Everyone starts to laugh, including myself, as I playfully step back and let her drag him to the floor. He smiles at me as he walks away.
“I’ll be back,” he says. “Don’t go anywhere.”
We watch as the two of them throw each other around, laughing and making jokes as they do. I love the bond that Derrick and the people here all seem to have. Like they’ve all seen the same peril, the same tragedy, the same absolute bliss from time to time. I yearn for it.
“My boy’s got some moves,” Alma says, taking a seat next to me. Her hair is twisted back into a low bun, and she’s got on a pale-purple dress that she smooths out as she sits. I nod and smile.
“I can see that,” I tell her, my eyes never leaving him.
“So,” she says, “have you given any more thought about what you want to do?” I turn to her.
“About the money?” I ask. She nods.
“The money,” she says, “and my boy.” My eyes grow wide, and my lips part. She smiles. “Calm down, baby. Not trying to put you on the spot. But as a mama bear, I just want to get something off my chest.”
I swallow.
“Okay,” I tell her.
“My boys had it rough as kids, baby. We all did. Their daddy was not a kind man, and he hurt us pretty bad.”
I feel my heart rate accelerate—that same helpless feeling I had in the store when I knew something was coming that I couldn’t stop. That I couldn’t do a damn thing about.
“Those boys watched him put his hands on me over and over again,” she says, the calm expression on her face never wavering. “But I was desperate to keep the home together. The family, ya know? Alan brought in most of the money, and I still hadn’t gotten my nursing degree. He told me it was a waste of time.
“But one night, he came home drunk––more drunk than usual. He didn’t like what I’d made for dinner. I could feel it comin’ on, ya know? I always could because of the way the air between us got colder. I told the boys to go into the other room, and they did. But little Derrick…he knew something was coming. He could see it. I’ll never forget that look he had in his eyes when Teddy dragged him out of the room. He was only nine.
“I tried to do my best to de-escalate. But it was no use. And when he pulled his belt from his pants, I knew it was going to start. I tried to run, but he caught me. And when I screamed, the boys stayed where they were, just like I had taught them to. I was lying on the ground, bleeding from the belt, when I saw Alan take the mirror off the wall in front of us. As he lifted it over his head, my baby stepped in front of me. He begged his daddy not to do it. Not to hurt me. But in the midst of his anger, he still brought that mirror down. Only it didn’t hit me. It hit Derrick.”
I gasp, covering my mouth. I feel tears prickling in my eyes. I look out at the dance floor, his face still lit up as he swings Luna, and now Jules, around, laughing wildly.
“Oh, God,” I whisper.
“Thirty-four stitches in his chest,” she goes on, a
nd I stare at him, picturing the scar on
his chest that my fingers traced just two nights before. I want to kiss it again, heal it, heal whatever’s hurting inside of him.
“So what happened?” I ask. She shakes her head.
“When I took him to the hospital, May was volunteering at the welcome desk. She visited us, brought us gifts and snacks. And afterward, we stayed in touch. She helped us come up with a plan to leave, and that’s just what we did. We got a restraining order against him, but to be honest, we didn’t need it. Alan never quite forgave himself for what he did to Derrick. It didn’t take much to get him to leave. But that’s still a parent. That’s still their daddy. And when he left, he never contacted us again.”
I swallow, staring down at my hands.
“I’m not telling you this for a pity party, honey. I just want to explain to you why my son is so particular about things like, well, love.”
My eyes widen as I turn back to her.
“I know it’s early,” she says, “but there’s something different about him with you. He’s...hopeful. Like he sees something further than just a few dates. I know I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. I know it’s not my place. He’s a grown man. But he was my protector, that one. Teddy learned it was safe to love someone. He knew he’d never turn into his dad. Derrick never quite got there. Just be careful with him, baby. And if it ain’t right, please let him down easy.”
She pats my hand as she stands, kneeling down to kiss the top of my head.
It’s right, Alma.
He walks over to me soon after she stands up and sticks out his hand.
“Now,” he says, “can I finally have a dance with my date?” I smile and slip my hand into his, letting him pull me to the back corner of the floor. Mila and Ryder are in the center, a handful of people dancing around them, holding their phones into the air to light it up. But when Derrick pulls me into his chest, looping my arms around his neck, I don’t see them. I don’t hear the music. I just feel him.
“I’m so glad you found me,” I whisper after a moment, and he looks down at me. He strokes my cheek and bends down for a kiss. Our foreheads press together, and then his eyes open slowly.
“Come back to my place tonight,” he says. My eyes flick up to his, but he won’t make contact with me, like he’s nervous for my reply.
“Of course,” I whisper back. He smiles and kisses the inside of my hand.
“Let’s go,” he says. He leads me off the dance floor and starts to say his goodbyes. Other people are leaving around us, so it seems like a good time to slip out.
“I’m gonna go say bye to Mama,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”
I grab my purse off the back of the chair and look around to make sure I’m not missing anything.
“Hey, lady!” I hear Mila call as she comes up from behind me.
“Hey, Mrs. Casey!” I say to her, wrapping her in a hug.
“Thank you for all your help setting up today,” she says. “You plan these things for a freakin’ year, and go figure, you’re still not ready day-of.” I smile and nod. I know the Meade Lake crew is only a few years older than me, but it seems like our life plans are spaced out by decades. Or, at least, it used to. Before I came here.
Before Derrick.
“Where you off to?” she asks me. I swallow, not prepared to lie.
“I, uh, I think we’re going to Derrick’s,” I tell her. I’m under the assumption that most people here know that something is going on between us. They don’t know that part of that something was him screwing me on the balcony the other night, but they know that something is going on.
Mila’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Whoa,” she says.
“‘Whoa’, what?” Jules says, coming up next to us.
“She’s going back to Derrick’s,” Mila says. Jules’s eyebrows shoot up.
“What?” I ask.
“He’s just never brought a girl back to his place,” Jules says. “Even when we were younger. Never brought anyone home to meet Alma. He’s very private, and he keeps his family and his home sacred.”
I swallow.
“Don’t mess it up,” Mila says with a playful wink as she leans in for another hug.
And if it’s not right, please let him down easy.
22
Derrick opens the door for me and helps me up into his truck. Despite the fact that I was with him the other night, and the other morning, and was very, very naked, I’m nervous. My hands are clammy as I digest all the information that’s been thrown at me over the last two hours.
He knew he’d never turn into his dad. Derrick never quite got there.
He keeps his family and his home sacred.
“That was a great night,” he says, and he pulls the truck onto the road.
“It was,” I say, lying back against the headrest and trying to relax. “They looked so happy.” He smiles.
“They are.”
We turn onto Lakeside Highway and drive a few miles. We pass the store on the right, then after a little while longer, he makes another turn, and I realize we’re headed up the mountain. When we get to the top, he turns right, and we drive down a dark, wooded road. Finally, he turns into a gravel driveway, and at the head of it sits a modest, wood-sided house.
“Well,” he says, “this is home.” He draws in a long breath, and if I’m not mistaken, he seems nervous, too. He walks around the side of the truck to get me, and I follow him up a paved stone path.
“This is really nice,” I tell him, and I mean it. It’s homey; it feels safe.
“It’s not May’s house,” he says with a chuckle as he unlocks the front door, “and it’s certainly no Georgia mansion.” I swallow. He’s mentioned Georgia to me only a few times, and each time, it’s a reminder that this new version of me—this Kaylee 2.0—is still in its infancy.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him. The house is much smaller than May’s, but it’s got plenty of room for one person. Or maybe two. Everything is spotless, not a dish in the sink, not a pillow out of place on the couch.
“Can I get you anything?” he asks, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter and pulling down two glasses from the cupboard above.
“Water is fine,” I tell him. “I had a few glasses of wine tonight, and I’m still feeling them.” He laughs as he grabs a pitcher from the fridge and pours two big glasses. We gulp it down as we stare at each other from across the kitchen.
“Saw you talkin’ to Mama tonight,” he says as he sets his empty glass down on the counter. I nod.
“Yeah. I talked to Mila and Jules some, too.” He leans back against the counter, gripping
it.
“What’d they have to say?”
I suck down the last drop of water and put my own glass down.
“They told me you’ve never brought a girl up here,” I say matter-of-factly. He narrows his
eyes at me as he shifts on his feet.
“They’re right.”
“What’s different this time?”
He bites his lip, like he’s not sure if he wants to respond.
“I’m not sure yet,” he says. I lean back on my hip and cross my arms over my chest.
“Is this one of those ‘you’re not like other girls’ things?” I ask with a playful grin. Only, I’m not all the way kidding. He shakes his head.
“Nah,” he says. “It’s one of those ‘this feels real’ things. And to be honest, I don’t think I was ready for that.”
I swallow, still staring into those big, beautiful, brown eyes.
“Me either,” I whisper.
“I’m assuming Mama gave you the background,” he says. I nod. “When I think about my
dad, know what I remember?”
“What?”
“When he’d bring us home water guns.”
I tilt my head, and a sad grin spreads across his lips.
“All those times he drew blood from my mama, and then from me, and all I can
think
about are the damn toys he brought us. We’d play for hours, and he’d always win, even when it was two against one. I think that’s what was so dangerous about him. He seemed happy. Owned his own business at one point. Loved my mom. He seemed like he had it all together. Until he didn’t.”
“Derrick,” I whisper, walking across the floor and standing directly in front of him. He lifts his eyes to me slowly. “Let me tell you something.”
I take his face in my hands.
“I am not the only one who will never turn into their parent,” I whisper. His eyes drop back to the ground. I slide a hand down to his chest, right over his scar. “You’re too good, too beautiful, to ever be like that.”
He lets out a sigh then snakes his hands around my waist, pulling me into him. Our lips crash together as I grab hold of his head, keeping him tight to me. He swings me around so that my back is to the counter and lifts me up on top of it. He slides a hand up my leg and under my dress, letting it trail across my panties. The sensation of his fingers on me and the cool granite beneath me sends chills rippling across my skin.
“Cold?” he asks. I nod.
“A little.” He tugs me toward him and lifts me off the counter.
“I can fix that,” he whispers. He carries me down the hall to the last door and kicks it open as he kisses me, our tongues dancing around each other like it’s been years since they’ve touched. He carries me through his bedroom and into his bathroom, reaching down to turn the water on in the shower. He puts me on my feet and stands back to tug on my dress. It slides down my body, my breasts falling from it as he pulls. He stops to take one into his mouth, and I lean back against the wall for support. He twists the other nipple in his fingers gently then takes the dress the rest of the way off, looping his fingers into the sides of my panties and letting them drop on the floor. I reach out to unbutton his dress shirt and tug it from the top of his pants. He helps me get his pants off, and we kick them to the side.
Stones Unturned (Meade Lake Series Book 2) Page 17