Fearless

by Tawdra Kandle

  As we drove toward my house, Michael glanced at me with a twinkle in his eye.

  “So,” he announced, “I just remembered that I actually do have some more questions for you.”

  I might have been worried if I didn’t hear the direction of his thoughts. I looked at him expectantly. “Okay, shoot.”

  “Do you always go by Tasmyn, or does anyone use a nickname?”

  I laughed. “I can’t believe that’s what you want to know. Okay, well, most people just call me Tasmyn, but my parents call me Tas sometimes. I answer to either one.”

  He nodded seriously. “Good to know. And by the way, you didn’t ask, but I only answer to Michael. My parents named me after an archangel, and they felt it was only right that I use the whole name all the time.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “So no Mike or Mikey or Mick?”

  He shook his head. “Never. You said you moved around a lot. Where have you lived?”

  I cast my eyes upward thinking of the list. “Hmm… well, you know about Wisconsin… going backwards before that it was Texas, Massachusetts, California, Missouri, Texas again, Delaware, Washington State, Minnesota, Virginia…”

  “Wow,” he whistled. “How come you’ve moved so much? Is your family military?”

  “No, but my mom says we might as well be, with as much as we relocate. My dad is an engineering troubleshooter, and he works for a company with lots of different holdings, all over the country. They send him to a new location every time one of the plants is having a problem, or if they’re getting ready to update systems, stuff like that. It works out to be every two years or so, but sometimes less, sometimes more, depending on the work needed.”

  “Huh.” Michael looked impressed, I thought. “That makes it tough on you and your mom.”

  “I guess, sometimes. My mom is a freelance artist, so her work can be done wherever we live. And I just kind of go where they tell me we’re going.”

  “Still.” Michael shook his head again. “Sometimes I wish I could get away from central Florida, but I like knowing where my home is, having those roots.” He reached over to take my hand and squeeze it gently. A steady warmth flowed into me.

  I was still glowing when we pulled up to my house. I turned to Michael. “Would it be asking too much for you to come inside and meet my parents? Do you have time?”

  Michael pulled up on the brake and turned off the car. “Absolutely. I would love to meet them. And I think it’s a good idea. I want them to trust me and feel comfortable when you’re with me.”

  I led the way through the dwindling light to the front door and went inside. I could smell my mother’s spaghetti sauce from the kitchen.

  “Mom!” I called.

  “In here,” she answered, her voice coming from the back of the house.

  Michael followed me into the kitchen. My mother was at the sink, rinsing a pot, and she looked up when we entered.

  “Tasmyn—oh!” She saw that I wasn’t alone, and I felt her surprise as she turned, drying her hands. “Hello. You must be Michael.”

  I had my mental guard down with Michael, and now it wasn’t back up quite yet. I could clearly hear my mother’s flustered thoughts: I’m not expecting company! Did she invite him for dinner? She looks happy, though… so good to see her really smile… has she ever been happy like this?

  I decided to be merciful. “Mom, I wanted you and Daddy to meet Michael. Is he here?”

  She smiled at us, almost shyly. “Yes, he’s sitting outside, in the back. Why don’t you go on out and see him?”

  My father was sitting in his lawn chair, a book draped over his lap. He turned as we came outside. I saw his eyebrows rise when he spotted Michael.

  I plunged right into it. “Daddy, this is Michael Sawyer. He wanted to meet you.” I wondered if there were something else to say, but I couldn’t think of anything.

  My dad was on his feet, holding out his hand. “Michael. Good to meet you. Rob Vaughn.”

  They shook hands in that sober and purposeful way that men have, and I tried to hide my smile. My father was attempting friendliness and welcome, but what I was feeling was suspicion.

  “Thank you, sir, for letting Tasmyn come to the park with me today. I appreciate it.”

  “Well, thank you for bringing her home safely. So you live here in King?”

  Michael smiled. “Actually, we live right outside town. My parents own a nursery.”

  My father nodded. “Well, that’s wonderful. Good business to be in down here. You’re a junior?” Mentally I rolled my eyes. I knew I’d told them Michael was a year ahead of me.

  Michael shook his head. “No, sir, I’m a senior this year.”

  My dad’s eyes widened. “That right? You making plans for next year then?”

  I decided the third degree had gone on long enough. “Daddy, you can quiz Michael another time. I’m sure he needs to get home. His parents are expecting him.”

  My father waved us off, “Sure, okay. We’ll talk another time, Michael. Looking forward to it. Nice to meet you. Thanks for stopping in.”

  My mother, having recovered from her surprise, stuck her head out the door.

  “Rob, Tasmyn, dinner’s ready. Michael, would you like to join us? It would only take a moment to add another plate to the table.”

  Michael hesitated, and then shook his head again. “Thanks, really, Mrs. Vaughn, but my mom and dad will be waiting for me to eat, and I have a test in English tomorrow that I should study for.”

  My mom smiled. I knew she was relieved. “Well, another time, maybe?”

  Michael smiled back at her, and I saw my mom’s mouth drop a little. Apparently, susceptibility to Michael’s charm wasn’t limited to one generation of the Vaughn family.

  I walked Michael to the door and out onto the porch. “Thanks for a beautiful afternoon,” I said quietly.

  “And you didn’t even get eaten by any horrible creatures,” he teased. He glanced at the door, but my parents were still in the kitchen. I could hear them rattling pots and pans.

  Michael reached his hands to my shoulders and drew me near. He leaned his forehead against mine, and I closed my eyes, letting my mental block drift away.

  Thanks, Tasmyn. You’ll never know what this afternoon meant to me. Your trust in me… it means the world. May I kiss you good night?

  My mouth curved and instead of answering, I moved my face up, so that my lips touched his. He held my face very gently and kissed me with such heartbreaking tenderness that when he released me, I was breathless.

  He traced one finger around the curve of my cheek down to my chin, and then kissed me very briefly again.

  “Good night,” he whispered. “See you in the morning.”