Into The Clear Water

by Celeste, B.

  I throw my hands up. “I don’t know!”

  He scratches the back of his neck. “Huh. I thought I was finally catching up on new terms, then weirder ones appear.”

  “Right?” He pushes open a door and holds it for me. “Jesse used the word salty once, and I stupidly assumed he meant something was actually salty. Shouldn’t I be the one using words like that? I’m such a grandma.”

  His bellowing laughter shakes his broad shoulders. “You’re not a grandma, Piper.”

  “Is this the part where you tell me that I could be your daughter too?” Rolling my eyes, I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

  He purses his lips and glances at me with eyes I can’t quite read before he murmurs, “I can honestly say I never considered you that.”

  My lips twitch upward. “That’s because I was the annoying little sister. I used to bug you guys all the time. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

  When I notice him looking at me, it’s with narrowed eyes that makes me squirm. Neither one of us says anything for a long moment as we stop out in the guard between two different academic halls. Finally, he says, “No. You’re not like an annoying little sister either.”

  Lips parted, I watch him tip his head and give me a once over before shaking his head and telling me he’ll see me tomorrow.

  Tomorrow. For my Mythology Class.

  I stare at the gift card.

  Why is my heart racing so fast?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Valentine’s Day.

  I don’t remember the last time I actually liked the pointless holiday. Elementary school comes to mind when everyone was forced to buy little cards for their classmates. It’s why I’m standing with Ainsley beside me in the seasonal aisle at the store staring at forty different options of cards that we’re supposed to address for her peers by tomorrow. If I’d checked her backpack at the beginning of the week, maybe I wouldn’t be in my frumpiest pair of sweatpants with stains down the front of them and holes in the seams with a tired six-year-old hanging onto me debating between two of her favorite cartoon characters.

  “Why don’t we get both?” I suggest, hoping she’ll say yes. But she doesn’t. Her eyes travel to the cards with chocolates before lighting up and pointing, but my eyes widen when I see the price of them. “Ainsley…”

  She tugs on my hand and signs please? And how the hell am I supposed to say no to that when communicating with her is all I wanted? So, I grab two bags worth for her class and lead her to checkout.

  When we get home, I know the reality of my night is putting together all the cards using the list of names from the sheet Evie sent home with all the kids. As soon as we’re back, I put Ainsley to bed after the quickest bath known to man and get to work sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table. A sappy movie plays in the background as I carefully jot down names before putting them all in a plastic bag for her to take. It doesn’t take more than half an hour, but the long day I had from exams in every single one of my classes makes exhaustion seep into my bones.

  It’s not until I feel the warmth of sunlight on my face when I open my eyes and groan at the stiffness settled into my body. My eyes don’t take long to adjust to what little light comes in through the curtained living room window, darkness from the early morning still predominant.

  Sitting up, I cringe at the twinge in my neck that I rub out and roll before standing. There’s a full glass of water on the coffee table I don’t remember getting, and everything has been tidied up. The Valentines are all in a neat pile, the packaging is no longer thrown on the floor, and the sandwich bag full of the ones for her class is folded over and set next to where Ainsley’s backpack rests against the coffee table.

  My brows pinch as I grab the glass and take a sip. The water is long since warm, but it still feels good against my dry throat. I walk into the kitchen, rubbing my tired eyes and start my morning pot of coffee.

  When noise stirs from upstairs, I glance at the time on the stove and know it’s Easton getting ready for his run. I barely have time to grab a coffee mug and walk over to watch the pot fill with hot salvation before he’s walking down the stairs and into the kitchen.

  “Morning.” I smile at him, noting the black sweatpants and gray thermal he always wears to workout in. Knowing what he’s going to grab before he can, I get the plastic bottle that he’ll fill with his protein shake and pass it to him as he takes the powder from the cupboard. He grunts out a grateful retort, seemingly as tired as I feel.

  “Why do you run so early?”

  He stops what he’s doing for a moment before glancing at me pouring my coffee. “I like it.” That’s it. That’s all he gives me before he finishes making his shake, passes me milk for my coffee, and proceeds to plug his earbuds in.

  I wet my lips. “Thanks for cleaning up last night. I know I left the living room a mess. I planned on dealing with it this morning.”

  He shakes his drink, puts in his earbuds, and tips his head once. “No problem.”

  I don’t bother stopping him when he leaves, music pumping from the small white buds hanging from both ears. Shrugging, I focus on getting breakfast ready—heart shaped pancakes. Danny used to make them for Ainsley and her mother all the time. Sometimes, on rare occasions, he made them for me.

  “Everyone needs a little love on Valentine’s Day,” he’d tell me.

  I let out a tiny breath and force the memory away. Smiling at the heart in the pan, I carefully flip it and silently wonder if I even have the same toppings Danny did. Chocolate chips, strawberries, whipped cream in a can.

  “What is that supposed to be?” I laugh, staring at the melted chocolate that I think it supposed to resemble a happy face. “It looks like a slightly less deranged version of the Joker.”

  Danny had fixed it by piling whipped cream over the top, but I always knew the failed attempt at a smiley face. It was our secret though. Ainsley never even knew.

  Grabbing chocolate chips from the cabinet above my head, I cut it open and carefully place the chips in the cooking batter, watching them bake in as I flip it. The sweet smell has me nibbling a few of the chips as I make more, only burning two in the process that I’ll give myself… And cover them with whipped cream.

  It’s after Ainsley is buckled in my car with her backpack sitting beside her booster seat when East strolls up the walkway. Peeling out his earbuds, he stops beside me, sweat drenching his entire front. His already black hair looks more so from the dampness, causing my brows to go up.

  “Good run?” I guess. He’s never gone so long, but I don’t tell him I know that.

  “Heading out for the day?” he returns.

  I just nod.

  His chin dips. “Happy Valentine’s Day, by the way.” Clearing his throat, he wipes his forehead off with his bicep before gripping his empty protein bottle and frowning.

  “Thanks. You too.” I rub my arm for friction once the cold air picks up. “I don’t know if you want any, but there are pancakes in the microwave for you. A couple are plain, the others have chocolate chips.”

  “Thanks.”

  Another nod. “Well, I should go.”

  He backs toward the house. “See you later.” His eyes go to the open back door, where he waves at Ainsley. “Have a good day, dudette.”

  I blink, closing the door and getting in the front the same time he disappears into the house. When I look into the rearview at Ainsley, I slowly ask, “Did he just call you dudette?”

  All I get is a tiny little smile.

  Nothing special happens throughout the day except my second class being cancelled giving me time to hit up the Coffee Cottage until my third one begins. There’s still a long line of people waiting in front of me when I arrive, so I pull out my phone and text Jenna to see how her day’s been since we haven’t spoken as much as we usually do.

  “Long line this morning,” someone says from behind me.

  My attention is still plastered to my phone screen as I scan through my emails i
n wait for my best friend to reply. The amount of realtor junk I’m spammed with still makes me regret ever searching for houses online before reaching out to local agencies who represent the market in the area.

  “Piper?” Spine straightening, I turn to see Carter standing behind me in his usual attire—his white shirt, black tie, and black pant combo makes him look more professional than usual.

  Blowing out a breath, I wave the hand with my phone in it at him. “Sorry, I’m a bit distracted.”

  His smile makes my own grow slightly as his focus flicks to the line in front of us. “How’s your day been?”

  Simple conversation. I can handle that. “I only have two classes. I’m normally doing a check in with my professor who handles student teaching since my schedule is different than my other classmates. She’s out today.”

  “You’d be surprised at the amount of people who take today off,” he muses, moving up the same time I do as the line shifts.

  I make a face. “For Valentine’s Day?”

  One of his shoulders goes up.

  “Huh.” I never considered the holiday anything but a commercial one to get people to spend money on pointless stuff. Then again, I love the chocolates they sell and am guilty of buying myself some. It makes me giggle before I can stop myself.

  Carter cocks his head. “What’s so funny?”

  Cheeks heating, I wave my hand. “It’s stupid. I was just thinking about the box of chocolates I’d buy myself the day after Valentine’s Day when all the candy is on sale.”

  “Nobody to send you some?”

  His question surprises me, my brows arching as I give him a momentary glance. Eventually, I shrug it off. “No, not really. Sometimes Danny would buy me flowers or chocolates or those little stuffed animals you can find for cheap at the store.”

  He wouldn’t even stop after he got married. Our friendship was known to everyone, and not once did Willow get upset over it. She was glad we had each other. Another reason to like her. She wasn’t set on getting rid of me because I was close with her husband.

  I didn’t realize how easy it’d be to talk about Danny to Carter. He knows him—there’s no long, drawn out explanation about our complicated dynamic. Somehow, it doesn’t hurt as much knowing Carter got to witness what a wonderful man Daniel McCray was.

  “What about you? Any lucky lady?” The words are out before I can even process them, firing up my entire face when I realize what was said aloud. Eyes widening, my lips part to take it back or apologize, but he shakes his head with an easy smile directed at me.

  “Not at the moment.” His voice is soft as he gives me a quick look before focusing his attention to the people in front of us again.

  I vaguely remember my mother talking about a woman named Elizabeth. She’d mentioned it in passing, saying she and Carter were serious. Talks of marriage, even. But I never bothered asking for details because I hadn’t spoken to him or even thought about him enough to believe it was any of my business.

  Instead of pushing the issue, I let it go. “I always thought this holiday was so stupid.”

  We move forward. “Why is that?”

  I find myself shrugging. “It’s all about the money corporations make. I used to get so upset by it. But really…” My voice fades as I stare at the floor. He waits patiently, his eyes burning with interest directed at my face. “It’s different when you have someone to share it with, I guess. Even with Danny it was nice.”

  He makes a small noise of agreement with the back of his throat.

  “How have you liked living around here?” he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

  My eyes peel away from the chocolate scone that’s calling my name from the pastry display, and back to him. “I like it. It’s different. Good different.”

  He understands, based on the slightest crinkle by his eyes that his smile forms. “There aren’t as many farm animals here.”

  “Is it weird I miss the smell of manure?” I note the disgusted looks casted my way from the two girls waiting for their orders. I promptly ignore it.

  “Nah. I get it.” He nods as the line moves, stepping with me. “How about … Ainsley, right? Does she like it here? The school?”

  A funny feeling tugs at my heart. Nobody has asked about her outside my family and Jenna. Easton will too, but we all live together so it seems obligatory. Very few people know about her. Danny was estranged from his extended family, so they never tried to get to know the sweet little girl that I’m lucky enough to have.

  Taken by surprise, I shake my head and give him a quick once over to see if he really wants to know. Carter seems genuinely interested though, which is foreign to me.

  Wetting my lips, I say, “Ainsley is … uh, special. She adjusts pretty quickly, but it’s not necessarily mutual. She has more room to play in this house than the apartment we lived in, so I know she likes that. School has been tough, but I know she can handle it.”

  His head tilts and nods slowly. “Kids can adapt fast to new situations. How old is she?”

  Talking about her brings a smile to my face that I lack too often. “She just turned six.”

  When I get called up to order, I tell the cashier what drink I want and then glance at the display case to see the scone missing. Grumbling over the missed opportunity, I ask for a cinnamon apple muffin and search my bag for my wallet.

  “I’ve got it,” Carter says, lowering my hand and passing the woman a twenty-dollar bill while placing his own order.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  It’s pointless to argue when he collects the change from the student worker who very clearly doesn’t want to be here. Her lack of enthusiasm as she passes him the receipt has me biting back my smile.

  We walk to the pick-up counter and stand side by side as Carter puts his money back into the new-looking leather wallet.

  “Thanks,” I murmur.

  He dips his chin.

  We wait in silence for another moment, neither of us saying anything. I watch people come and go from the tiny establishment, guys pushing each other and laughing, girls whispering and giggling. It seems like everything I missed. I had three years to form those kinds of friendships, and I’d only sort of managed it with Jenna. But I never went out to get coffee with her, or gossip about campus life, or tell her all about some guy I slept with because I could.

  Did I regret that? Regret Danny?

  A ping of hurt radiates in my chest as soon as the thought sweeps across my mind. How could I ever regret somebody who impacted my life as much as he did? Even if he and I didn’t become more like I wanted, I loved him regardless. As a friend—someone to depend on.

  A throat clears. “You okay?”

  I blink. Then blink again. Carter comes into focus when I come back to reality. The one where I’m standing next to my attractive professor amidst the local college kids instead of the man I’d always pictured myself with.

  Because Carter exists.

  And Danny no longer does.

  Heart hurting, I force a tight smile. “Lost in thought. I’m fine.” My eyes turn to the counter where one of the other student workers finishes putting tops on two coffees.

  “Danny?”

  My bottom lip quivers. “Yeah.”

  “You can talk to me, Piper,” he murmurs, eyes focused downward on mine despite my lack of attentiveness toward him.

  I know I can talk to him. That’s the problem. It doesn’t matter what roles we play here on campus—professor and student or not. I shouldn’t have to talk to anybody about someone I lost three years ago like it still slices me up as if I’d just said goodbye to him yesterday.

  “That’s all right, Professor Ford,” is the reply I manage to say evenly. Our order is called, and I happily take the white bag with my pastry and the cool drink that feels like heaven against my clammy palm and thank Carter again. “I’m going to be late.”

  It isn’t until I powerwalk out that I realize how s
tupid that was to say. It’s his class I’m going to next, and it doesn’t start for another thirty minutes. And that’s when I decide to be weak for a day and walk to my car, unlock the door, and drive anywhere but here.

  No classes.

  No Carter Ford.

  No feelings.

  And when I eventually find my way home with Ainsley in the back seat after school, we walk into the house that smells like chocolate brownies and something else—something floral. I walk into the kitchen and reveal the reason why, a six-year-old hot on my heels and tugging on the hem of my shirt when she sees the pan of brownies.

  My eyes are stuck on the flowers.

  It’s a beautiful bouquet of assorted flowers that brings the kitchen to life. I drag my fingertips across the petals and note the pretty white ribbon tied along the small of the vase they’re sitting in. From the corner of my eye, I see Ainsley climb onto the chair and glance down at the dessert in the baking tray.

  “Hold on,” I direct, seeing the small note in front of them. It’s in East’s scratchy handwriting.

  Enjoy.

  I grab a plate and napkin for Ainsley before taking out a piece for her to snack on. My eyes go back to the flowers. Moving aside some in search of another note, I realize there is none other than a generic Happy Valentine’s Day card stuck in the middle with the local shop’s logo and number.

  Sliding my phone from my back pocket, I shoot a quick text to Easton saying Ainsley loves the brownies.

  East: Glad to hear

  Biting my lip, I stare at the flowers for another moment before thumbing the keys on my screen again.

  Me: Thank you for the flowers

  It doesn’t take long before bubbles appear at the bottom followed by his response.

  East: Don’t know what you’re talking about

  At first, I think he’s joking. It makes me smile for a moment to think he wouldn’t want me knowing, but that smile quickly disappears when I see the two texts he sends directly after.

  East: They’re not from me

  East: Be back late

  I blink and reread the texts before shaking my head and looking up at the flowers. If he didn’t send them, I have no clue who did. Jenna hates this holiday with a burning passion and boycotts any stores that try getting her to buy something for a special someone. Plus, she’s never sent flowers before. The only other person who knows where I live is my family. And…