by Linda Kage
It was worse.
His father.
He swallowed, wondering when he’d last talked to the old man. Hmm. It’d been … Christmas? Yes, Christmas. Mandy had badgered him into going with her and her kids to their father’s on Christmas Eve.
Blowing out a breath, he flipped the phone open and pressed it to his ear for a good three seconds.
"Hello," he finally said.
"Hey … Drew?" the almost unfamiliar voice of Don Harper spoke. He sounded confident enough with the "hey," but by the time he added Drew’s name, he lacked conviction. "This is your dad."
Drew wanted to snort. He’d figured that fact out. The million-dollar question was why his father suddenly deemed Drew important enough to contact.
"Yeah," he answered. "What did you need?"
"Oh." Out of breath, his dad said, "I … well … as you know, Evie’s going to be a senior next year."
No, actually Drew had no idea. He didn’t keep tabs on his stepsiblings. "Okay," he murmured, wondering what the heck his dad was getting at.
"So, we—I, actually—was wondering if you could take her senior picture."
Blood thundered through Drew’s ears. He tried to quell the instant spurt of irritation and, yes, jealousy but managed to tap it down. Still … his dad sure hadn’t hired any professional photographer to take his or Mandy’s senior picture when they’d been in school.
"Um. Sure," he said. "I guess. Yeah, that’s fine."
Wondering if his dad was asking for a freebie or what, he hesitated before saying, "When do you …" Coming up with a void, he tipped his head up and stared at the front door of 410 S. Elm. A picture filled his head of Mia the first moment she’d turned and looked up him with her innocent watering can in hand.
Tranquility filled him.
Shaking his head, he blinked and returned to reality, wondering what in the world had just happened there. Odd. Definitely odd. But for some reason, his mind felt less muddled now. And realizing he was stuttering around for no reason, he took another breath.
He shot senior pictures all the time. All he had to do was treat this like any other client.
"Okay," he said, falling into business mode. "Well, first we need to set up a clothing consultation, so I can decide which backdrops will match her outfits."
"Oh. Yeah, about that …" His dad broke in. "I was hoping she could take them here … at our house. Candace wants a picture of her in the gazebo."
An uncomfortable chill raced up the back of Drew’s neck. He pictured the house he’d grown up in. The gazebo hadn’t been there during his stay. His dad had built it for his second wife, Candace, as a wedding present.
Drew knew he couldn’t fault his father for remarrying. Don had been considerate enough to wait until Drew had left for college before moving in his new family. Still, it felt incredibly odd seeing his dad with "them" and knowing they were more important to him than Drew or Mandy had ever been.
"Drew?" his dad’s voice echoed through his ear. "You still there?"
"Yeah," he answered. "That’s fine. Pictures at your place sound great. I can bring a backdrop with me too if she wants a more traditional look for her yearbook."
"That would be wonderful," his father said, sounding relieved. "So when would be a good time for you?"
After deciding to meet the next Saturday, there was a pause. Then Don Harper added, "And Candace thought since you’d be over anyway, you, ah, might … She’d like a family picture of the five of us together."
Drew swallowed.
The five of them. That would be his father, Candace, her two kids—Evie and Jack—and Brianna, Drew’s half sister. No room for a Drew or Mandy in that count. He had to wonder if there’d ever been room for him in his father’s life.
"That’s fine," he managed to murmur.
"Good." His father blew out a relieved breath. "Good. I’ll see you Saturday then."
"See you Saturday," Drew echoed as he disconnected. He closed his eyes and pressed the phone to his forehead. "What next?" he muttered.
In answer, his phone chimed again. He fell back in his seat and glanced at Mia’s house, remembering how nice her mouth had been. And when her body had pressed into his—
He shivered and answered the phone, wondering what his dad wanted him to take a picture of now. "Hello."
"I was wrong," Mandy said in his ear. "Jeffrey’s not cheating on me."
He closed his eyes. So not the person he wanted to talk to. But the determined tone in her voice had him sitting up.
"You talked to him?" It was about time.
"Yes."
Drew exhaled a long, pent up breath. Oh, thank you. His suspicions about Mia’s roommate were wrong. Jeff wasn’t a cheating jerk and life could return to normal. "What’s the deal with the flowers then?"
His sister paused.
He frowned. "Mandy?"
"I … I didn’t ask."
"You didn’t—Amanda!"
He gritted his teeth and reached forward to turn on the ignition. As the truck’s engine hummed under him, he sent one last regretful look toward the front door and pulled away from the curb.
"I thought about what you said. He didn’t act weird around you. And he’s having a lot of stress. I’m going to just … let it go at that. Yeah … I’m just going to believe him."
"Well … Good." Though, good was very opposite of what he meant.
Mandy didn’t sound at all like she believed Jeff was innocent. Frowning, he reached the end of the block, braked at the intersection and waited for a truck to pass. All the while, his gut twisted into knots.
He had more ammunition for her and she was giving up on her quest. Not sure what to do, he listened to her depressed tone as she said, "So … just forget I ever said anything. Okay. Please don’t mention this to Jeffrey … or tell him about how I tried to confront his mistress. Okay?"
He clenched his fingers around the steering wheel. "Ah … okay."
"Thanks, Drew. You’re the best." She started to hang up. And he almost let her go.
Just let it be, his mind warned him, even as he rushed out the words, "Mandy, wait."
There was a pause. He told himself if she’d already hung up, he’d let it go.
But she said, "Yeah?"
He swallowed, still deliberating. Should he tell her? He pondered briefly, then turned into a gas station and muttered, "Will you go to Dad’s with me next Saturday? He just called and wants me to take Evie’s senior picture."
He closed his eyes briefly, disappointed with himself for being such a coward. Since the first winter break of his freshman year at college when he’d come home to find his room taken over by his six-year old stepbrother, Jack, Drew hadn’t been comfortable with his father. Or maybe it had started before that. They’d never been close since his dad had never been home. He just hadn’t realized the lack of affection until he’d seen the man give Candace’s children so much of it.
"Of course I’ll come," Mandy sounded insulted he even had to ask. She’d always been there for him, even that first semester break when he’d had nowhere to go. She might’ve been a newlywed and pregnant with her first baby, but she and Jeff had made room for him in their home, and there he’d felt wanted.
"Thanks," he said.
Now if only he’d give her the support she’d always given him. Gritting his teeth, he blurted out, "She has a roommate."
"What?" Mandy said.
"Mia," he mumbled, telling himself to shut up already. Let Mandy think what she wanted to think. "She has a roommate." He parked in front of a pump and squeezed his eyes closed, calling himself every kind of idiot for stirring the pot.
Silence reigned over the satellite connection. Then, "Excuse me?"
He could actually picture the frozen horror on his sister’s face. Man, what did he think he was doing? She was ready to move past this, and he’d just bulldozed right over that idea.
"Tell me everything," she demanded.
He swallowed convulsively. It was
too late to shut his trap now. The barn door was swinging wide open; the cows were wandering everywhere.
"I went over to her place today," he confessed. "To, you know, talk to her." Because he couldn’t stay away. "And … and her roommate answered the door."
"Roommate?" Mandy repeated breathlessly. "Are … are you sure it was a roommate, not just some friend visiting."
"They introduced her to me as a roommate. Her name’s Piper. Piper Holliday."
"Piper," Mandy whispered the name.
He gave a silent nod. "She … "
"She what?" Mandy prodded impatiently.
Drew hesitated. "She seems more like the type to, you know."
"Cheat?" Mandy guessed.
After a sigh, he murmured, "Yeah." He knew exactly what he was doing, deflecting speculation away from Mia. And in the process, he was once again opening his sister’s uncertainty. "Look," he started. "Just ignore me. Forget I said anything. I didn’t mean to—"
"No, it’s okay," his sister assured. "I’ve already forgotten it."
He nodded though he knew she was lying. "Good."
"Good," she repeated way too brightly. "I’ll see you later. Bye."
She hung up before he could stop her. Slowly, Drew slid from his truck to pump gas, all the while berating himself for upsetting Mandy.
•
"Have you thought about what we discussed last week?"
Mia gave a brief nod, keeping her hands fisted in her lap.
Dr. Higgins eyed her over the top of his bifocals. "And? Are you ready to try?"
No way. "Okay," she murmured. "We can give it a try."
He smiled, pleased like some adoring old grandfather, completely blissful to any problems. "And have you been keeping up with your journal?"
"Yes," she lied.
He nodding, approving. "Good." Folding his hands, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the surfaced of his desk. "Now … What is your biggest fear about letting go?"
Mia swallowed. Geez. They were going to address it already? What happened to small talk about the weather first? It was really cloudy out today. A strong chance of rain. Didn’t he think it was going to rain?
Giving a half-hearted shrug, she mumbled, "I don’t know."
"Are you afraid of being happy?"
She couldn’t meet his probing stare. "I don’t know." Yes, she was terrified of happiness. What if someone else died while she smiled, blissfully unaware her life was about to fall apart? What if she laughed and—
Dr. Higgins sighed. "Mia …"
Her breathing escalated; she turned to stare out the window. His frustration filled the room with that single sigh. But he couldn’t be any more bothered than she was about all this. It occupied her every thought, crowded her sleep and intruded into each corner of her life. She’d nearly completed her five-step process over healing.
She couldn’t help but wonder, though, what happened after the final phase, once she accepted reality and finished the steps? Did she graduate, get a good-job sticker pasted to her shirt, a pat on the back? You’re healed. Now go forth and … what? She had no idea. So, she stuck with the steps, clung to them desperately. She didn’t like being this close to the end.
Her life had become steps and stages and she wasn’t sure if she could live without them. It was so much safer this way. It was her haven. Her badge of existence.
If someone started to worry or pry too deeply, she could always pull her handy badge and flash it their way. It’s okay. I’m in grief counseling, working my way through the steps. And like magic, they always nodded and backed off. Like they understood.
Dr. Higgins was starting to see through the ruse though. He’d cracked his way inside her head and he knew; she was stalling.
"I know I’ve suggested group counseling before and you didn’t feel ready but …"
She shook her head in an adamant gesture.
"I was hoping you’d become more adjusted to the idea," he finished, his shoulders falling as he watched the panicked look cross her face.
But group counseling? Had he lost his mind? She’d barely grown comfortable talking to one person—him—about the pain. No way could she spell it out to an entire room full of people. Then she’d have to sit there and listen to their stories in return. No, thank you. It was hard enough to shoulder her own misery. No way could she handle someone else’s too.
"Breathe, Mia."
Dr. Higgins’s voice floated through her and she unconsciously opened her lungs, sucking in air. Her pulse beat against the sides of her neck, and she pressed her hand to the front of her throat like that could actually stop the pounding.
"Gooooood," the counselor cooed. "Close your eyes and concentrate on breathing. One breath in. And one breath out."
She obeyed, shutting out his office and staring at the insides of her eyelids, focusing on working her lungs. In and out.
"Go to your happy place, Mia. Relax for a minute."
She nodded, letting him know she heard his suggestion. But when she forced her mind to envision the beach full of white sand and bright blue waters she usually pictured, she glanced over to the beach chair next to hers and found Drew Harper in a pair of swimming trunks. His eyes remained hidden behind a pair of black shades as he sipped from a tall glass with an umbrella toothpick holding together a cherry and a chunk of pineapple.
After swallowing, he sighed, refreshed and sat the drink aside. Then he turned to her, white teeth glistening as he smiled. "The bartender sure knows how to mix a drink," he murmured, leaning over the arm of his chair to move closer toward her.
"But it still doesn’t taste as good as you." He continued to smile as he pressed his mouth to hers.
Mia held her breath, waiting for the moist, softness of his lips. For his taste. But when it never came, she remembered this was only happening in her mind.
Her eyes flew open; a sob caught in her throat.
What in the world?
How had Drew Harper invaded her happy place? He didn’t belong there. She only went there for peace and quiet. For sanctuary. Not to experience some hanky-panky with the deceiving photographer.
She hadn’t desired a man since Lexie was alive and Ryan was still in her life. It felt wrong to experience longing now. And actually like the sensation.
When she realized her cheeks were wet, she sniffed and glanced guiltily toward Dr. Higgins. "I’m sorry," she whispered.
He shook his head. "There’s no need for apologies. No one here’s going to get upset if you fail. You tried. That’s what is important."
She nodded, but inside the disappointment sliced through her. She wiped at her tears and told herself she would stop thinking about Drew Harper if it was the last thing she did.
Chapter Seven
"Thanks again for coming with me." Drew slung the strap of his camera bag over his shoulder and glanced at Mandy. There were purple smudges under her eyes, and he knew his call last Sunday was the reason for any lack of sleep she’d experienced.
He should’ve kept his big trap shut.
He wanted to apologize and somehow make it up to her, but this was definitely not the time or place. He had to get through the next couple of hours first.
Behind him, his two nieces and one nephew piled out of the backseat of Mandy’s car he’d been driving and raced toward the entrance of his childhood home. As they sprinted, they all yelled, "Brianna!"
In answer, the front door swung open and his seven-year old half sister streaked outside, waving to Natalie, Lucy, and Felix. He watched their reunion as the four danced in circles and jabbered a hundred miles an hour in kid talk. His little sister, Brianna, was definitely a happy child. But then, twenty-two years his junior, she’d never experienced any of the childhood he or Mandy had. And she had a different mother as well as a father who no longer worked eighty hours a week to pay the bills.
She had dark, curly hair exactly like his, which always made his stomach hurt when he saw her. This girl was blood of his blood and he felt
as removed from her as he did Candace’s other two children.
Next to him, Mandy said, "I think I would’ve been in trouble if we hadn’t come with you." There was amusement in her voice as she watched the children. "They love visiting Bri."
Delighted to see her smile, Drew’s breathing became easier. "Don’t leave me," he said under this breath. "You’re my assistant today."
She rolled her eyes. "Why’re you always so afraid to come to Dad’s alone?"
"I’m not afraid," he muttered, sending her a moody frown.
He was uncomfortable. After living here for eighteen years, he’d become a visitor the moment his father and Candace had moved her son, Jack, into his room.
"But you can stay in the guest room, Drew," Candace assured.
Shaking his head, Drew forced a smile. "That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll … find somewhere else." The shock was still rolling through him, making his insides numb. But he couldn’t believe it. His dad had given his room away.
"Are you sure?" his dad asked. "We’d love to have you."
Again, Drew shook his head. We’d love to have you? You fed that polite nonsense to a stranger. Not family.
It told him exactly how much he didn’t fit into his dad’s life.
"Well, you look terrified out of your mind," Amanda teased, jostling him in the arm with her elbow.
He glanced at her soberly, picturing her ten years younger, leading him into her spare bedroom. He’d followed hesitantly, like an intruder in his sister’s home.
"Are you sure it’s okay if I sleep here?" he asked.
She sent him a puzzled, annoyed look. "Don’t be stupid. Of course, you can stay here any time you like. You’re my brother."
He nodded, not answering, and scanned his new room. Amanda had decorated it in pastels with angel posters on the wall.
"I can understand why you don’t want to bother Dad since he’s a newlywed and everything."
Forcing another nod, Drew stepped toward his new bed and set his duffle bag on the mattress.
"So, what do you think of Candace?" Amanda asked behind him. "She seems really nice, doesn’t she?"
