“Thought you were just going to stare at me all night,” he said, pressing his cold face into my neck. “You smell like cinnamon.”
A shudder passed through me. “Than and I made apple cider.”
“That’s kind of a girly drink, Thanet. What gives?”
Thanet chuckled. “I work with girls, Henry. What can I say?”
“You about done here?” Henry said, resting his chin on my head.
“Go,” Thanet said. “Before you start the PDA. I’ll lock up behind you.” He grabbed my coat and bag from behind the counter and carried it to me, shooing us toward the door.
Henry had left his truck running, so it was warm. Snow had just started falling and the streetlight in front of the bookstore made the huge flakes glow.
“I’ve only got a minute.” Henry leaned forward to look at the sky. “I have to check one of the water tanks to make sure it’s not frozen again. And I’ve got two mama cows in the barn tonight.” He took off his gloves and looked at a swollen knuckle.
I couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re adorable.”
He shook his head and scowled. “I’m not. I’m six feet three inches of solid man. ‘Adorable’ doesn’t come close to what I am.”
I loved when he teased me. We’d both been more comfortable doing that since the night at the hot springs.
He reached for his phone on the dash and scrolled through texts, holding one up from Tennyson. “What’s this about?”
Are you coming to Jackson Hole or not? Meg can’t wait to get you alone…
“Oh,” I said. “I was going to talk to you tonight about that.”
He smiled and played with my hair, twisting it around his fingers. “I’m all ears.”
“Apparently Tennyson’s family has a big condo up there and we’ve been invited to stay a couple of days over break.”
“Who else?”
I shrugged. “I guess Sara and Taylor and whoever they bring. I think Tennyson invited Sara’s brother, Matt.”
“A couple thing, huh?”
“Her parents will be there,” I said quickly.
“Another couple.” He smirked. “Your dad okay with this?”
“I don’t know yet. Tennyson’s mom is calling him tonight.”
He rolled his shoulders and leaned over on the steering wheel. “Winter isn’t the best time for me to be away for two nights. My dad gets moody when he has to do all the middle of the night stuff by himself. I’d never hear the end of it.”
I tried not to let the disappointment show on my face. “I understand. I probably won’t go either. What would I do if Tennyson dragged me into her trouble?”
He smiled. “I’d shut down the state to get to you. Every road…I’d shut ’em down and drive all night and carry you home.”
“You sound like a song.”
“I am a song, sweetheart.” He reached for my hand and tucked it into his coat pocket with his. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go. I just said the timing isn’t ideal.”
I leaned against him. “What if we did go, though? How awesome would it be?”
“Pretty awesome.”
“Then it’s settled…we’re going,” I whispered, reaching up to kiss him.
He touched my cheek. “Yeah, we’re going.”
That night, after I’d finished homework and done some laundry, I climbed into bed to wait for Dad to get home from work. By ten I could barely keep my eyes open, but I sat up and turned on my lamp when I heard his truck. He came in, dropping his keys in the bowl by the door, hanging up his coat, taking off his shoes, and shuffling back to my room.
He knocked on my door. “You still awake?”
“Waiting for you,” I said. “How was your day?”
“It was…typical. Had a couple of phone calls that would interest you.”
My pulse raced. If he said no, I’d cry myself to sleep. “Oh?”
“Your mom’s psychiatrist called this afternoon to give me the weekly report.” He reached up to loosen his tie and slide it out of his collar. “She had a bit of a setback this week. Something happened in group therapy and she refused to go back.”
I smoothed my quilt higher and braced myself for bad news. “What happened?”
Dad sat on the end of my bed. “I don’t know exactly. There’s a new patient in the group and she said some insensitive things to your mom. It happened to be on a day when they’d changed her medication and she was probably feeling kind of weird anyway. They’re stopping her group therapy until she adjusts.”
“Why does she have to pass group therapy? Some of us don’t like groups.”
He laughed and patted my leg. “It’s part of taking little steps toward learning how to be healthy in a group setting.”
“Will it delay her treatment?” I added up the remaining time in my head. I’d assumed she would be finished by early June.
“I don’t think so.” His brow furrowed while he thought. “Still the same six-months we talked about from the beginning. Her doctor seems to think she’s doing well, except for this little confrontation in group.”
I dropped my head and processed this information. “Have you talked to her?”
He shook his head and stared at the pattern on my quilt. “Can’t until our once a week call in a couple of days.”
“I bet she’s pissed.”
“Probably.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled a look at me. “Want to know about the second call?”
“I don’t know. Do I?”
“I’m sure you knew Tennyson’s mom would be calling me about a trip. She’s very convincing.” He smiled. “Do you want to go?”
“I think so,” I said. “I mean…it’s Jackson Hole, right? It’s famous.”
“I don’t think that’s the draw for you, though.” His arms crossed again. “Has Henry decided yet whether he’s going?”
“It’s not definite yet.”
He sniffed and looked at me thoughtfully. “Okay, Meg. Down to brass tacks. I told Martha that you could go with a few conditions. First, you guys can’t be spending hours and hours alone in this condo without parents there.”
I nodded. “Of course not.”
“Second…” He paused. “Second, no alcohol. Third, no driving around on slick roads.”
“Never and never.” My heart began to race because his conditions were doable.
“Fourth, you must—and I mean must—have fun and act like a teenager. Forget about things at home while you’re there.”
“That’s it?” I smiled and reached for him, but he held his hand up and sighed.
“Fifth, don’t get in over your head with this boy, Meg. It’s not worth it. You’re young. He’s young.”
“I know that. He knows that. We would never.”
Dad met my gaze for a second and then nodded. Scratching his cheek, he said, “Then it looks like you’re headed to Jackson Hole on Christmas Day.”
“What about you?” We’d already decided not to go back to Pittsburgh for Christmas, despite the promise I’d made Aunt Catherine. It was too soon. Mom couldn’t have visitors yet. And tickets were expensive.
“We’ll celebrate Christmas and your birthday that morning, and then you’ll only be gone a couple of days. No big deal. I’ll catch up on things around here.”
My phone buzzed and I glanced down at a text from Tennyson.
Told you Martha had her ways. XO
Smiling, I hugged Dad and told him goodnight. Then I called Henry who answered with a laugh.
“It’s on,” I said.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “It’s so on.”
THIRTY-FIVE
At ten o’clock on Christmas morning, Henry parked next to my house. He looked nervous in the doorway, waiting for me to hand him my suitcase. He gave me a look that told me he was as excited about this trip as I was. “Happy Birthday.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said.
My dad put on his coat and crowded Henry. “I’m trusting you with my daughter, Henry.”
His crowding was having a strange effect on Henry’s coloring.
“I know, sir.”
“Don’t let anything happen to her,” Dad said. “Don’t treat her disrespectfully.”
Henry met my dad’s eyes. “You have my word.”
Dad swallowed and shook Henry’s hand, and then hugged me. “Love you,” he said. “Have fun and don’t worry.”
“I feel like I’m abandoning you on the most important day of the year,” I said.
Dad shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”
Setting my suitcase in the back of the truck with his, Henry said, “Ready?”
He didn’t talk for a few minutes, driving with a forearm on the wheel, sipping on gas station coffee so bitter just the smell of it burned the back of my throat. When he swallowed it, he wrinkled his nose and clamped his jaw tight.
“Good coffee?” I asked.
“Worst I’ve ever had.” He opened his door at the stoplight and emptied the cup. “Hey, I kept my promise.”
“I know.” I’d never forget his promise to be with me on my birthday.
He parked along the curb by Tennyson’s house and touched my arm before I could open my door. “Hold on.”
He reached behind the seat and lifted up two small packages. One wrapped with birthday paper and one in red and green for Christmas. He handed me the Christmas package first. “Merry Christmas, Pittsburgh.”
“Your present’s in my suitcase.” I started to climb out of the truck to get it but he touched my arm again.
“Later,” he said.
Unwrapping the red and green paper, I felt him staring at me. He was nervous…or hopeful…or something I couldn’t name. I tried to take it all in. Tennyson lived on a hill and the hill was a bit icy that morning. So along with the sound of the truck’s heater roaring, and Henry’s rhythmic breathing, there was the sound of a late model Toyota whining through gears trying to hit the right one that would overcome an insubstantial amount of ice.
“What’s wrong?” Henry said.
I looked up at him. “I don’t know. It just feels like a moment.”
He got close then, turning on the full force of those brown eyes of his. “What kind of moment? Good or not so good?”
“A compelling one,” I said. “It’s giving me the sensation of falling.”
His grin was crooked and overly self-aware. He laid a hand over mine, keeping me from returning to my unwrapping. “I’m in love with you.”
I angled my head, trying to catch all the significance. “You mentioned that. In the cave.”
“I know I said I love you, but I also want to say I’m in love with you. Somehow the in seems to matter.” The little catch in his voice made it hard to breathe.
“I’m in love with you, too, Henry.” I swallowed hard and stared at him. “Wyatt predicted this.”
“What did he predict,” Henry whispered.
“That when it happened to me, I’d feel more than my share.”
His thumb rubbed gently over my knuckles, not demanding that I hold his hand or in an attempt to speed time along. Just soft. “I’m glad I get to see it happen, then.” He took his hand away. “Go ahead,” he whispered. Then chuckled and cleared his throat. “Go ahead,” he said louder.
The paper tore away to reveal a hardcover copy of To Kill a Mockingbird. I touched the dust jacket. It was the fiftieth anniversary collector’s edition with the old image of the upside-down mockingbird and the red petals that looked like scattered blood. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” I said. “I tried to find one in Pittsburgh. I even asked Annie if she’d seen one.”
He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled. “I know. I asked her if she had one a few weeks ago and she said you’d wondered the same thing.” He leaned over and kissed my temple. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I completely love it. I can’t even…”
Henry laughed. “Five words for that Christmas present.”
“Not fair.”
“That’s only two.”
“I’m little but I’m old.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Ah. Scout?”
“Dill Harris.” I leaned over and wrapped my arms around Henry, putting my lips on his neck. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” He cleared his throat. “Now, has anyone sung Happy Birthday to you yet?”
“No.” I peeked at him over my book. I’d brought it to my nose to smell it.
“A one, and a two, and a three…,” he said, and then he sang Happy Birthday quietly. It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me. I blushed and remembered the time a mariachi band had singled me out in a restaurant and sung a love song directly to my eleven-year-old self. That made me want to die. This, Henry serenading me in his truck, made the whole world stop.
He handed me the second gift, the one wrapped in little kid birthday paper. “This is something…” He shook his head. “It made me think of you.”
I unwrapped the box and found a delicate silver bracelet with one small heart dangling from it. Henry took it from me and rubbed the heart with his thumb to polish it, before turning it over to show me the engraving on the back. It was a tiny inscription that said, “Love, H.W.”
“It’s not fancy,” he said. “It’s all about the heart. Like you.”
“I love it.” I held my wrist up and he fastened it. He turned my wrist from side to side looking at the little heart. I watched it reflect the light and enjoyed the electric feeling of being alive.
“Good.” He kissed me, weaving his hand into my hair to hold me still.
A knock on my window nearly sent me flying into Henry’s lap. “It’s too early in the morning to see that,” a familiar male voice yelled. I turned around, hoping I was wrong. Grayson used his hand over his eyes to peer into the truck, smiling.
Henry pressed the passenger window button to roll it down. “What are you doing here, man?”
“I’m going to Jackson Hole,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
Henry mumbled something under his breath and Grayson leaned in. “There are no swear words on this trip. No swear words.” He used that facetious voice of incredulity. “We’re among ladies and a mom. I told Tennyson I wouldn’t cuss, but my body language would be filthy.” To illustrate, he laced his hands behind his head and did a few disgustingly graphic pelvic thrusts.
I sneered at him over my shoulder—Grayson, who had never apologized to Thanet or me. He’d stalked through the halls of school like always, never paying me a bit of attention. Henry had gone to his house a few days after the locker room incident and they’d talked it out. But I’m not sure what, if anything, got truly resolved. I was told there were extenuating circumstances that made the situation…difficult.
“Give us a sec,” Henry said to Grayson.
He lumbered away toward the front door and Henry rolled up the window. “Still wanna go?” he said.
In shock, I nodded my head. “Maybe there’s been a mistake and Tennyson will tell him to go home.”
“I don’t think so. I’d bet my right arm Taylor invited him.” Henry rubbed his chin. “She’s kind of had an inexplicable thing for him since we were in junior high.”
I laughed. “What kind of inexplicable thing?”
“The kind that happens when you go into a closet with someone at a party and make out. Then you don’t kiss anyone else for the next four years and you turn that memory into something it wasn’t.”
My mouth flew open. “Gross. How do you know all that?”
He grinned. “Hijacked a passed note last year.”
***
Johnny, Tennyson’s dad, had rented an enormous van to transport four girls, four guys, a mom and a dad to Jackson Hole. Luggage went into a carrier on top for the three-hour drive.
Henry and I held hands in the back seat alone. Taylor, Grayson and Sara sat in the middle, and Tennyson, Sara’s brother Matt and Matt’s best friend from college sat in the front seat. Matt put his arm around Tennyson as soon as we left t
he drive. His friend, Adam, had begged to come along because he had a crush on Sara. Adam kept his body turned back toward Sara for the entire drive, trying to get her attention.
The angst and desire flowing forward from the three bench seats probably made Tennyson’s parents feel awkward. They pretty much faced straight ahead. Maybe they should’ve thought this all couples trip through before agreeing.
I spent most of the ride enjoying the feel of the entire side of Henry’s body pressed against the entire side of mine. Not even Grayson’s presence could ruin this for me. With nowhere else to be for three hours, it felt…extravagant. I could lean my head one way and rest against his bicep. Lean it the other way and study his profile.
I could close my eyes and feel him breathing. Open them and watch the way he flexed his leg muscles under his jeans when he felt cramped. How he leaned his head back and covered his eyes with his cap, pretending to sleep. But I knew he was doing the same thing I was doing—learning me, like we had all the time in the world. His thumb turned circles on the heart of my bracelet.
I finally understood why so much monkey business happened in the backs of buses. Put a couple in close proximity, with wheels spinning under them, and nothing to do but wait, they’re going to start thinking of lovely uses for their bodies. I don’t care who they are.
THIRTY-SIX
“You’re so full of sh—” Grayson said, before Henry elbowed him in the side to cut him off. “I called dibs on this machine as soon as I saw it.”
Henry angled his face close to Grayson’s. “Thought you’d agreed to watch your language.” He handed Grayson the key to the snowmobile we were getting ready to climb on. “Take it. But you’d better bring it back in perfect condition.”
Grayson ignored the fact that Henry had talked to Tennyson’s parents about letting us borrow the snowmobile and had even mapped out an area where we could go. “Taylor,” Grayson called. “You coming?”
Taylor looked up from the snow boot she was lacing. “Coming.” As she passed me, she whispered, “Sorry.”
Maybe her fascination with Grayson had ended after only one night in Jackson Hole.
We’d spent twenty-four hours together—first in a cramped van and then in the condo. We’d been lazy most of our first day. None of us wanted to pay for skis and lift tickets, so we’d watched movies, played games, and talked.
Glass Girl (A Young Adult Novel) Page 20
