Forever Wild

by Allyson Charles

  He gathered up his laptop and files. “Come on, William. We’re going home.”

  The dog dropped the rope and trotted over to the office door. No matter how pissy he was with Dax, he wasn’t going to be left behind again—that much was clear.

  Dax snapped the leash on his collar and swung his messenger bag over his shoulder. His glance fell on his tent in the corner. He rubbed his forehead. He was supposed to take Lissa camping tonight. She’d never seen the Great Lakes, and he knew a good place to pop a tent on Lake Michigan’s shore.

  His shoulders dropped. She’d understand. He needed to run his numbers again, see what the absolute bottom line was for his offer. Get another proposal ready to give to Jesse.

  Coming up with another offer was going to take a while. Definitely wouldn’t leave him enough time to make the drive to the shore with enough daylight left to hike to his camping spot.

  Well, he’d best get started. He’d find a way to make it up to Lissa.

  He left the office, William at his side, his brain roving over all the possible cuts he could make to his business plan. What were absolute necessities versus what would merely be beneficial to the business.

  He blew out his breath. One good thing would happen if he failed: at least he’d have plenty of time to visit Lissa in New Mexico.

  He’d just be a sad, jobless loser of a boyfriend when he did it.

  * * * *

  The glossy brochure in Lissa’s hand glinted in the sun. She tilted it so she could see past the glare. Her feet slowed on the sidewalk of Hibiscus Street in Clarion Township as she examined the painting the gallery was headlining on its advertisement. The bright swirls of crimson and tangerine were beautiful and evocative. The Color Field style wasn’t something she would paint, but the artist had talent.

  Marla had been right. While Pineville was a little more kitsch than couth, Clarion had several lovely galleries featuring local artists. Cafés emitting delicious scents were tucked in among the stone storefronts downtown. Shops selling everything from antiques to eccentric dishware called to Lissa to waste the day window shopping. And the doors …

  Lissa snapped another picture of a turquoise door with large brass tacks hammered into it in a swirling design. Many of the shops imported their doors from Tunisia, for a reason the storekeeper Lissa had spoken to couldn’t quite remember. The reason didn’t matter. The doors were beautiful and gave Clarion a funky character she loved. Large planters lined the sidewalks every twenty feet, overflowing with bromeliads surrounded by bunches of pink petunias. It was a lovely town, full of inviting alleyways and hidden courtyards that reminded her a bit of New Orleans.

  Maybe after she got her degree from Bruggard-Tayo, she could try to sell her work in Clarion.

  If she and Dax were still together in eighteen months.

  She rubbed her forehead. This was uncharted territory for her. Usually she adored the unknown. But the uncertainty of whether her relationship with Dax would survive when they were living in two different states ate at her stomach.

  Tapping the brochure against her lip, she picked up her pace. It was no use worrying about it. There wasn’t anything she could do. Events would unfold as they were meant to and there was nothing she could change. She blew out a breath. Was there?

  The charming downtown gradually faded into utilitarian service stations and strip malls. Lissa stopped and turned in a circle. Crap. She’d missed the street she was parked on. Sighing, she started to retrace her steps.

  A small building with a larger lot set back from the road drew her attention. The lot was filled with trailers, fifth-wheels, and campers of all sizes and styles. She walked up to the fence surrounding the property and hooked her fingers through the chain-link.

  Her parents’ camper was about ten years older than anything on this lot, but a bud of nostalgia still unfurled in her chest looking at the trailers. There were times when she’d hated living in such a cramped space. Hated having to watch her parents give each other such loving attention and feeling ignored herself. But there had been a lot of good times, too. The interesting characters she’d met. The beauty of the country she’d been privileged to see.

  And she could better see the appeal now. Heading out west, just Dax and her and William, spending their nights cozied up in a Minnie Winnie or lying out under the stars. Their camping trip tonight would be a good test run.

  Pulling her new phone from her back pocket, she dialed her parents’ number as she wandered back downtown. If she’d set up the prepaid cell correctly, her number would read as blocked. She hoped her parents didn’t screen her.

  Her dad picked up. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Dad. It’s me.”

  “Oh, hi, Lissa. How are you doing?”

  “Good. I’m—”

  “That’s nice.” He yawned over the line. “I’ll get your mom.”

  “But Dad …” Lissa sighed. He was already gone. She turned on Gardenia and spotted Dax’s car across the street. Looking both ways, she darted across, wondering if her dad had forgotten to bring the phone to her mom.

  Finally, her mom picked up. “Lissa? Anything wrong?”

  “No, Mom. I just called to say hi, see how you and Dad are doing.” She leaned against the hood of the Honda. The sun-warmed metal heated her body through her jeans. “What are you guys up to?”

  “Oh. Well, your dad spent the day with a woman from the Chinookan tribe, learning their style of basket weaving. I think he has a real talent for it.”

  Lissa smiled. She could picture her dad sitting cross-legged, a look of determination on his face as he wove a basket. “Are you still in Oregon?”

  “No, Washington.” A radio playing R&B got louder in the background. “We’re thinking of heading up to Canada. I’d like to paint the Aurora.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “Liss, I’m right in the middle of a sketch—”

  “Mom, wait.” She gripped the edge of the hood. “I was hoping to talk to you about, well …” She blew out a long breath. “I met a guy. And I think it’s serious.”

  “Oh? That’s nice.”

  Lissa waited, but that was all her mom had to offer. She tried again. “I’ve never really been in a relationship before. You and Dad are so great together. You were made for each other, really. I’m just wondering if you have any advice for me? You know, how to recognize if what I’m feeling is the real thing.”

  “Advice?” Her mother’s voice sounded confused, as if giving advice to her daughter was beyond her limits of comprehension. “Well, I guess just figure out your priorities. Now that you’ve met this guy, are you going to drop your idea of going to Bruggard-Tayo and stay in Michigan?”

  Lissa frowned. “No, I wasn’t planning on it.” One of her dreams last night might have been along those lines. She’d woken up happy. But in the light of day, she knew that idea was crazy, even for her. A modern woman didn’t give up her lifelong dream for a guy she’d just met. “We’re going to try to make it work long-distance. Besides, Dax knows how important my art is to me. And he’s very encouraging of me going to Bruggard-Tayo.”

  “He’s not an artist, is he?” A bag popped open and loud crunching filled the phone line.

  Lissa’s shoulders drew back toward her spine. “What do you mean by that?”

  Her mom sniffed. “Anyone who was a true artist and who cared about you wouldn’t encourage you to waste money on that school. If you like this guy, you should think about staying in Michigan with him. Find a job you’re suited to. I always thought you had talent in sales. Remember when you went around that campground in Sonora trying to sell your father’s sculpture?”

  Her mother’s voice was warm for once, fond from reminisce of years past. When Lissa had been hocking her dad’s work. Not when she’d presented her parents with her first finger painting. Or when she’d sat next to them at the Grand C
anyon behind her own easel, spending silent hours painting the awe-inspiring landscape.

  She couldn’t remember one time, not one, when her mom had ever said an encouraging word about Lissa’s art.

  And instead of gathering her hurt to herself and burying it as she normally did, Lissa let it explode outward. For once, she was either too angry, too tired, or too uncaring to keep it to herself.

  “Regardless of your obvious disdain for the idea of me being an artist,” Lissa said coldly, “I will be attending Bruggard-Tayo and I will be making painting my life’s work.”

  Her mom sighed. “Do what you want. You always do.”

  Lissa loosed a bark of laughter. “That’s rich, coming from you. When have you ever put yourself out, done one damn thing for me if it interfered with your good times with Dad? I can answer that. Never. Not once have you ever put me first.”

  Her mother sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t you take that tone with me. I’m your mother—”

  “I wish you weren’t.”

  The sentence hung out there, a horrifying stillness hovering over it, connecting her and her mom despite the thousands of miles between them. I wish you weren’t. The words seemed to echo over the line. Could her mom hear it? Would she … would she say the same about Lissa?

  Lissa panted, her heart thundering as if she’d run a marathon. She wanted to rewind time, reel those words back in, never give them voice.

  In some deep, hidden part of her psyche, Lissa knew she’d been feeling that way for a while. Her hand holding the phone shook. She might have felt that wish, might have meant it, but saying it out loud … She couldn’t take it back. Couldn’t pretend any longer that her mom and dad were great parents, introducing their daughter to a fun, bohemian lifestyle.

  “Well,” her mom finally said, “if that’s the way you feel, I really don’t know what to say.”

  Neither did Lissa. Closing her eyes, she tried to slow the racing of her mind. But trying to figure out a way back from this was giving her a headache. Maybe there was no way back. Perhaps it was finally time Lissa stopped standing in her parents’ shadow. Honesty hurt, but so had a lifetime of biting her tongue and ignoring the problem.

  “Mom, I’ve found people here who have faith in me, in my work.” She swallowed, trying to bring moisture back to her mouth. “It breaks my heart that you’ve never been one of them,” she ended on a whisper.

  “It isn’t a parent’s job to give their child a false sense of confidence,” her mom said quietly. “You were always a needy little thing. I was just trying to do what was best for you.”

  “Pursuing my dream is what’s best for me.” She straightened off the car. Acid burned behind her breastbone, threatening to climb farther. She firmed her shoulders. No more hearing her parents’ voices in her head as she chased her dreams. No more self-doubt. She’d been accepted into a wonderful school, and nothing was going to stop her from having the career she wanted.

  She thought about Dax, his hair that looked like autumn leaves and was in need of a trim, his wide smile, his strong grip as he held her hand. Her heart panged. She’d miss him. She’d miss him so much it would physically hurt. But there was no way she would let her parents have the last say in her life. She’d made her plans, and nothing was going to stop her from following through on them.

  “I’m going to Bruggard-Tayo, Mom, and I’m going to paint what I want to paint. In the style I find beautiful even if you find it trite and conventional.” Lissa slid behind the wheel of Dax’s car and slammed the door. “And I hope one day when you see my work in a museum or gallery you’ll understand just how wrong you’ve been about me.”

  Hanging up, she dropped the phone on the seat beside her and started the car.

  She drove home on autopilot. When she pulled into the apartment’s driveway, she realized she couldn’t recall the route she’d taken. She must have driven past Forever Friends, but even a twenty-foot-tall unicorn hadn’t caught her eye. Parking, she rested her forearms on the steering wheel, making no move to get out of the car.

  She should be upset. She must be, but she didn’t feel it right now. She didn’t feel anything. Maybe her parents had ceased to have the power to hurt her.

  Dax’s Jeep was in its usual spot, and for the first time she wasn’t eager to run up the stairs and throw herself in his arms. He was … a distraction. How close had she been to tossing her own dreams away just to stay close to him? Proving everything her mom thought about her right.

  She trudged up to the apartment and let herself in. William rounded the corner from the kitchen, paws scrabbling on the wood floor, and pounced on her.

  A smile tugged at her lips, and she knelt to give him some love. She buried her face in his fur and rubbed his back. “Hi, boy. I’m glad to see you, too.”

  Dax looked up from the sofa. His laptop sat on his thighs and loose papers were scattered on the cushion beside him. He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Hi. How was your day?”

  “Fine.” She focused on William, scratching behind his ears.

  “Good. Uh, I know I told you we’d go camping tonight, but something’s come up.” Dax raked his fingers through his hair. “I have to work up a new proposal for Jesse. It might take me all night.”

  The knot in Lissa’s stomach loosened a bit. “That’s fine.” Being out in the wilderness alone with Dax was probably a bad idea right now anyway. Might make her start to question her resolve.

  Her relief was short-lived. “I’ll take you out tomorrow,” Dax said. “Besides, the forecast shows clearer skies then. There’ll be better stargazing.”

  She clenched her fist, but kept her voice even. “That’s great.”

  Dax stuck a pen lengthwise between his lips and frowned at his laptop. He ran a hand up the back of his head, leaving his hair adorably ruffled.

  Lissa cupped her neck with both palms. Each torpid beat of her heart thrummed beneath her fingers. She was making the right decision pulling back. She’d lived her life behaving rashly, but she couldn’t afford to stay in that pattern, not now. Dax’s very presence called to her, urging her to toss her dreams aside and make new ones.

  It was just so comfortable being with Dax. They fit together perfectly, like two LEGO pieces snapping into place. But she would feel just as fulfilled at school. More, she told herself. And then she’d come back to Dax. Until she left, she had to remain strong. No impulsive decisions.

  Lowering her arms, she breathed out a long exhale. “You need any help?” she asked lightly.

  “Nah, I’m good.” He dipped his head to squint at his computer. “But thanks.”

  “Okay.” Standing, she looked about for William’s leash. She found it hanging off a nail by the door, next to Dax’s keys. “I’m going to take William for a walk.”

  At that magic word, the Bluetick barked and spun in a dizzying circle. As eager to break free as Lissa should be.

  She grabbed for his collar. “You have to stand still if you want to go out, silly.”

  He finally stopped twisting enough that she could hook up his leash. She shoved a plastic bag in her pocket and opened the front door.

  “See you guys later.” Dax narrowed his eyes and frowned at something on his computer.

  A lump rose in her throat. Yes, but not for much longer. And that was how it had to be. “Let’s go, William.”

  He tugged her out the door, and she just managed to twist back to pull it shut. She fought against the dog’s pull, staring at the closed door. A solid barrier between her and Dax.

  She rubbed her breastbone. She’d never been good at erecting boundaries, but with Dax, she was starting to think she needed to practice. Her art had to be her main focus.

  William whined, and she let him have his head. Together, they flew down the steps and ran for the street as though the ghosts of every unrecognized, underappreciated artist who�
��d ever lived were nipping at their heels.

  Chapter 20

  Dax hefted the sledgehammer around his shoulder, over his head, and let it fly. The wood paneling of the shelter’s outbuilding burst, the hammer’s head shattering through the insulation and out the other side of the structure. His muscles strained, flexed, and he slammed the sledge into the wall again.

  Demo was just what he needed today. The glorified shed Brad used as a workshop for the canine mobility devices he developed had come down with a minor case of rot in the back wall, and Dax had been first to volunteer to tear it down to the studs.

  Sweat dripped into his eyes, and he brushed it away with the back of his glove.

  “Ease up a bit there.” Brad tossed him a bottle of water, and Dax caught it with his free hand. “I only want the one wall gone. Don’t shake down the others.”

  Gabe tugged on his own gloves. “Beanpole here doesn’t have the power to knock this place down.” He rolled his shoulders and picked up another sledgehammer. “Now stand back and watch how a real man does it.”

  Dax rolled his eyes. Gabe might have a little more bulk than he, but Dax could still beat him down any day. Maybe.

  Brad leaned against his workbench, flinching when a chip of wood went flying past his head. He donned a pair of protective goggles. “Anything wrong?”

  “No,” Dax said. “Why do you ask?”

  Brad pursed his lips. “Well, you ran half the dogs near to death this morning. They’ve all crashed. It’s so quiet in the playroom that I could hear the proverbial pin drop.”

  Yeah, Dax might have had an excess of energy. When he’d finally turned off his computer last night, Lissa had already gone to sleep. And while he wouldn’t classify her behavior this morning as aloof, he couldn’t say it had been exactly encouraging of any potential nookie.

  Dax rubbed his chest. Her smiles this morning had seemed … off. Like maybe the shine of their relationship had already rubbed away.