by Liv Brywood
“Is he taking custody of him?” Julia asked.
“I’m not sure. It didn’t sound like it, but it’s really none of my business.”
“I still can’t believe Amelia’s gone. She fought so hard. Cancer’s a real bitch.”
Laurie glanced at the door. Julia’s bad habit of swearing in the bathroom always set her on edge. As teachers, they should be setting a good example. But out of earshot of the others, Julia swore like a trucker.
“I should get back to class,” Laurie said.
“Clark should take Mason in,” Julia said, clearly not willing to let the subject drop. “Dusty’s been gone so long. Did he even know about Mason? I don’t think Amelia ever mentioned Dusty to him.”
“I don’t know. I never spent much time with her outside of parent-teacher conferences and the occasional phone call.”
“Well, if you need to talk to anyone about him, I’m here for you,” Julia said.
“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’m sure Dusty will take Mason back to wherever he’s living now, and we’ll never see him again.”
Julia raised a brow but didn’t comment.
“I have to get back to class,” Laurie said. “I’ll see you at lunch.”
As Laurie left the bathroom, she passed through the teacher’s lounge. Two of the biggest gossips in the school sat in a far corner. They whispered to each other and watched Laurie as she left the lounge. Stupid old biddies. They had nothing better to do than talk about other people. She hated people like them.
After the accident, people would stare and whisper behind her back. The endless speculation and pitying looks lasted for years. It took hours of YouTube makeup tutorials and pounds of makeup before she could paint on a face that didn’t elicit unwelcome comments. She’d worked hard to put the past behind her, but as long as Dusty was in town, she’d have to endure the whispers and stares all over again.
She returned to her classroom and set up a video about the U.S. Civil War. She’d lost the energy necessary to teach the rest of the day, so she planned on using every teacher’s favorite crutch to get through it. Suddenly exhausted, her scars itched and pulled as if they were still healing. They were as healed as they could get at this point. They were settled. She was settled. And she didn’t need Dusty back in her life shredding it to pieces again. No matter how irresistible he was, having him around would only hurt. The night of the accident, she’d lost more than just her body, she’d lost her soul, because she’d lost him too.
The rest of the day passed like molasses through a colander. When the last bell rang, she ushered the class out and closed the door behind them. She’d planned on finishing her grading that afternoon but was too tired to tackle it. All she wanted was a glass of Pinot Noir and a chocolate bar. She didn’t have to worry about getting fat because she knew no one would ever want her anyway, so why not indulge?
She swapped her heels for tennis shoes and walked ten blocks to get home. Once inside, she fed her three cats: Molly, Penny, and Chloe. After gobbling down their food as if she never fed them, they meowed and purred. They joined her on the couch where she sat with a bottle of wine, a glass, and a box of chocolate chip cookies. She hadn’t bothered to get a plate.
Cookie crumbs landed on her dress. A dribble of wine slid down the glass and landed near her high neckline. She probably should have changed into pajamas, but she didn’t have the energy. Too bad cats couldn’t be trained to fetch.
Her bear rumbled in her chest.
“What do you want?” she asked out loud.
“Where’s Dusty?” her bear silently asked.
“With Mason, hopefully.”
“We should go over there.”
“Why?”
“So we can see him,” her bear said in an exasperated tone.
“Not going to happen.”
“Why not?” the beast demanded.
“Because he’s not ours to go see anymore. Forget you saw him. He’ll be gone in a few days anyway.”
“But he’s our mate!”
“Dammit, bear. Stop!” She jumped up, sending several ounces sloshing over the rim of her glass. “He’s not our mate. If he was our mate, he wouldn’t have left us. He would have stayed and stood up to all the assholes in town who ganged up on him to push him out. It was an accident. Why can’t anyone see that?”
Tears flowed down her cheeks. She set the glass down before brushing the tears away. Makeup smeared onto the back of her hand. She left the box of cookies wedged in a couch cushion and headed toward the guest bathroom. Calling it a guest bathroom was a joke. She never had any guests other than her mother and her friends. At least their knitting circle kept her from becoming a total shut-in.
She saturated a wash cloth with soap and water before gingerly removing her makeup. Although she’d had everything from skin grafts to laser therapy, discoloration and ridges and valleys remained. Julia swore up and down that she didn’t need so much makeup, but Laurie felt totally exposed without it.
She applied a special moisturizer to her face before padding down the hall to her bedroom. She slipped into her favorite ultra-soft dinosaur pajamas before returning to catch the cats face-first in the cookies.
“Get out of there!”
The cats scurried off to hide under various pieces of furniture. She hated scaring them, but they needed to learn that they couldn’t eat cookies. She glanced at her almost empty glass. Great, she had three drunk cats on her hands now. Could life get any better?
She continued her pity-party with a sappy romance movie. She’d already seen it at least twenty times and knew the boat was going to sink, but she couldn’t stop watching. To have loved so much and to have lost everything in the process, well, it was exactly the kind of movie she could relate to.
As the night continued, flashes of the accident made the tension in her body increase. Eventually, she couldn’t take it anymore, so she went outside and let her bear take over. The shift began with a searing, ripping pain as her bones cracked and reformed. Her hands grew into large paws, while her feet elongated and sprouted fur. Her nose formed a snout which she used to scent the earth.
She had no idea where she was heading until she found herself at the edge of the forest behind Amelia’s house. Dusty stood in front of the kitchen window over the sink. She could only see him from the neck up, but it was enough. With a chiseled jawline and a scruffy two-day-old beard, he was sexier than he’d been at eighteen.
Fifteen years ago, she shouldn’t have let him leave town. She should have insisted that he stay or that he take her with him. But the reality was, she couldn’t. She still had years of hospitalization and therapy before her. She never would have survived without the excellent medical attention she’d received after the accident. But she still couldn’t help but wonder, if he’d stayed, would they be married already? Would they have children of their own? One accident had stolen so much from them, but were they getting a second chance now?
She watched him for several minutes as darkness claimed the land. When he looked up, she backed into the shadowy woods. She waited until he’d turned away, then she headed back toward her home. She didn’t know what it meant to have him back on Yellowstone Mountain, but she wouldn’t let him leave until she knew for sure what fate awaited them.
* * *
Dusty’s second attempt to flip a grilled cheese sandwich without losing half the cheese to a hungry burner failed epically. Not only did he set the entire sandwich on fire, but he managed to fling it onto the floor in the process. He grabbed a tea-towel off the counter, dunked it in sink water, the dropped it over the flaming sandwich. Mason sat at the kitchen table with wide eyes and an open mouth.
“That one’s probably too crispy,” Dusty grumbled.
“You think?” Mason snorted.
“It’s been a while since I cooked.”
“How do you eat if you can’t cook?”
“Mostly diners and fast food.”
“Mom only let us get drive-through when sh
e was too tired to cook. Basically, every Friday night.”
“It’s not Friday night. Also, don’t you have homework?” Dusty asked as he began his third attempt at a grilled cheese sandwich. Who knew they would be so hard to make?
“No homework tonight.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
Mason shrugged.
“If I called Ms. Denning, would she tell me if you had homework?”
“Uh… You can’t call her; you don’t have her number.”
“Actually, I do.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “She called me a few days ago, so her number’s still in my phone.”
“Fine. Call her.” Mason turned up his chin and crossed his arms over his chest.
Dusty turned off the stove. He grabbed a box of crackers and some slices of cheese. He tossed them onto a plate.
“Here.” He handed it to Mason. “This should hold you over until I cook dinner. This was only supposed to be a snack anyway.”
“Whatever.” Mason grabbed the plate and took off down the hall. His door slammed.
Dusty sighed. He glanced at his phone. He didn’t have to call Laurie tonight. He could ask about homework tomorrow. But, he wanted to call her. He needed to hear her voice again.
For years, he’d worried about her. Seeing her today had taken away so many of the fears he’d been harboring for years. She wasn’t stuck in a wheelchair. She didn’t appear to have a limp. Other than sheets of makeup covering her face, she looked like any other woman. Well, not any other woman. She looked like Laurie. Beautiful, sweet, stunning Laurie. The woman he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with. A quick call wouldn’t change anything, but at least he’d get to speak to her.
He dialed before he could talk himself out of it. The phone rang three times before she picked up.
“Dusty?” she asked softly.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“I didn’t expect you to call.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting you.”
“Is Mason okay?”
“As well as can be expected. I asked him if he had homework, but he said no. I’m guessing he does?”
“I only know about his history homework since that’s what I teach, and yes, he does have homework.”
“He lied to me.”
“He’s a teenager. Don’t you remember all the times we snuck out or lied to our parents so we could spend more time together?” she asked.
“How could I forget?” he murmured.
“If you need me to come over and talk to him, I will. I mean, if you want me to. I wouldn’t come over unless you asked me because that would be overstepping, and I don’t usually—”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll be over in about thirty minutes.”
“Like a pizza.” He wanted to slap himself with the phone. A pizza? Really? “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay.” She laughed. “Pizza sounds good.”
“Maybe I’ll order some.”
“I usually only eat it on the weekend. Besides, I don’t want to intrude. I’ll just stay long enough to talk to Mason then I’ll leave. I wouldn’t want to interrupt dinner.”
“Well, I was planning on making Coq Au Vin for dinner, but I could always change plans.”
“Wow, fancy. Mason will love it.”
“I’m sure he would.” Dusty eyed the smoldering pile on the floor. He’d have to hurry up and clean up his mess before she got there. No point in leaving evidence of his ineptitude in the kitchen lying around. “See you soon.”
After hanging up, he quickly swept up the ruined sandwich and put away the pans. He considered ordering pizza but decided against it. He refused to give up on his mission to make a grilled cheese sandwich. There had to be a video online with step-by-step instructions. He could follow instructions.
As he tried to distract himself with videos, his bear jumped around his chest with excitement. The beast was convinced she was their mate. Maybe he was right, but Dusty had ruined any chance they’d had to be together years ago. The best he could hope for now was her help and maybe a shot at friendship. He’d never be able to rekindle their relationship. Why would she want to be with the man who’d ruined her life? Heck, maybe she was already married. She wasn’t wearing a ring earlier, but some women didn’t wear their rings all the time. For all he knew, she could already be married.
He sighed and sat on the couch to wait. Maybe inviting her over was a mistake, but he couldn’t rescind the invitation now. He needed help with Mason, and she was the only person who could help him navigate the world of surly teenagers. Without her, he’d be at a loss as to what to do with the kid. He wasn’t father material. Maybe she’d see that and decide to help him find someone else to adopt Mason. Surely if she realized he was still a screw up, she wouldn’t expect him to take care of his nephew.
4
Laurie parked her bicycle on the front porch. As she snapped a combination lock onto the bike chain, the front door opened. Dusty walked out, closing the door behind him. The porch light illuminated his face. His eyebrows cast shadows as he frowned.
“You didn’t drive?”
“I don’t own a car. I walk or I ride my bike.”
“Are teacher salaries really that bad here?” he asked.
“No,” she bristled. “I prefer walking. It’s good exercise. It keeps me from getting huge.”
“Huge?” He chuckled. “You’re not even close to big. Besides, you wouldn’t want to lose those curves.”
Her cheeks warmed. Was he trying to tell her she was pretty in a weird, roundabout way? Or was he simply stating a fact? She’d struggled to stuff her big butt into a newer pair of jeans. Maybe she should have gone with a dress instead. Or maybe having Dusty check out her butt was exactly the ego boost she needed right now. Regardless, she wasn’t here to parade her body in front of Dusty. She was here to help him with Mason.
“How’s Mason been today?” she asked. “He was quieter than normal at school today.”
“He refuses to talk about his mom, but I don’t expect him to open up to me. I’m basically still a stranger to him. Amelia never mentioned me.”
“That must hurt.”
“A bit.” He gnawed on the edge of his bottom lip. “Anyway, Mason’s in his room. It’s down the hall to the left.”
“Your old room?”
“Yeah. I’m surprised you remember.”
“How could I forget? It’s where I learned to kiss.” She smiled before walking into the house. When she reached Mason’s bedroom door, she knocked.
“Go away,” he said.
“It’s Ms. Denning.”
Silence.
After a few seconds, the door opened. Mason eyed her warily.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“I can’t believe Dusty called you.” He took a seat at a desk with a laptop. The screen displayed an online video game that had been paused mid spaceship battle.
“Are you playing OverStar?”
“Yeah.”
“I play Lt. Mercury. Who do you play?”
“You play OverStar?” his jaw dropped. “No way.”
“Way. I already have galactic control over the metal and fire planets. I’m working on the water planets next.”
“I play Lt. Zargon. I’m still fighting for the rust planet. Which server are you on?”
“BattleZoneRed.”
“Me too!”
“It’s the best server. Not many noobs.”
“That’s awesome.”
“The battle between the rust barbarians and the galactic metalworkers is basically like the Civil War. Two sides were fighting for a cause they believed in, but only one side prevailed. Did you get to that chapter in the homework yet?”
“Uh…” His gaze dropped to the floor. “Not yet. But I was getting to it.”
“It’s a short chapter. It shouldn’t take too long to finish
it. Your uncle mentioned he was thinking about ordering pizza. I can check on that while you finish up your homework.”
“He sucks at cooking.”—
“Really?” She tried to suppress a smile but failed miserably.
“He burned a grilled cheese sandwich.”
“Seriously?” Her eyebrows shot up.
“Yeah, who does that? Even I can make grilled cheese.”
“Would you rather have that over pizza?”
“Well, I was hoping for lasagna because Wednesdays are lasagna night, but I guess pizza works.”
“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be out in the kitchen if you have any questions about your history homework. What else do you have from your other classes?”
“A math worksheet and a science project plan.”
“Is the project due tomorrow?”
“Just the plan.”
“Okay. Once you have everything done, let me know. I’ll work on getting something edible for dinner. Deal?”
“Deal.” He didn’t exactly smile, but he wasn’t frowning anymore, so she considered it a win.
She found Dusty in the kitchen.
“He’s working on his homework now.”
“What did you say to him?” Dusty asked, as if amazed.
“We talked about OverStar and—”
“Over-what?”
“It’s an MMO. A video game you play online in groups. Well, you can do solo runs to capture single planets, but for galactic takeovers, you need at least five other players.”
Dusty laughed.
“What?” she asked.
“I never imagined you’d end up becoming a history teacher who likes starship games.”
“Why not? I read a ton of Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clark, Frank Herbert, Ursula K. Le Guin, Kurt Vonnegut, and, of course my favorite book is The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. If I taught English, it would be required reading.”
“It’s just… unexpected. But I’m glad you found a way to get through to him. He won’t talk to me.” He waved a hand toward the kitchen table. She took a seat across from him.
