I should have been glad Gran had not been alone during my father's illness, but knowing some virtual stranger seemed to know more about what was happening with my own grandmother's personal affairs than I did, well, it simply didn't leave me with a good feeling.
I should have been home for Gran. But not for my father. Never for my father.
If only I had known he'd been having heart trouble, I would have come earlier to have helped her through everything. If I hadn't shown up unannounced, I wondered if someone would have simply called me after the funeral was already over. Gran's excuse that she didn't want me to worry was the only reason she'd given for not contacting me.
But we both knew the real reason. My father had asked her not to call.
Even now I couldn't explain the strong feeling that urged me to come home. I'd arrived too late to talk to my father but in time to be a comfort to her at least.
Looking at Keller I knew there was no way I could physically stop him from checking on Gran, but I wasn't going to pretend to be happy about his familiarity with my only family and what I perceived to be his interference in matters that weren't really his concern now that I was here.
"If you insist on stopping by, I won't stand in your way," I said, knowing I shouldn't interfere if Gran wanted Keller to be there.
I took a step closer, waiting to see if he would back down. Wishing he would. Wishing he wouldn't.
I wasn't really surprised when he stood his ground.
"You should understand, I'm planning to stay here. Permanently," I specified. "Gran may not need your help now that I'm here to stay."
Keller's smile was gone. The expression on his face unreadable. His eyes were so dark I could see my reflection in their depths. The low timber of his voice was an unpleasant growl when he spoke.
"Stubborn. I'd heard that about you." His eyes flicked to my hair. "Fiery red hair matching that fiery red temper, no doubt. But you're the one who needs to understand some things because you have no idea, sweetheart, how much you're going to need my help before all of this is over."
He didn't wait for my response but spun on his heel and stormed off towards a black Ford truck parked at the edge of the drive.
I flinched when he slammed the truck door, knowing the anger behind the motion was directed solely at me.
What on earth had just happened?
There was something about Keller Jones, other than being incredibly handsome, that made him seem as wicked as sin. And even worse, despite my verbal protests, I wasn't sure I'd be better off staying away from him.
Deep in thought, I didn't notice at first that Gran had approached me. She placed her hand on top of my arm, and my attention was slowly drawn back to the woman at my side and away from the spot where Keller's truck was quickly disappearing down the drive.
I tried to shake off my feelings of unease. Gran needed all of my attention. She had been there for me even when I hadn't been with her. Despite the fact that my father remained my guardian and limited what she could do for me, she always let me know she was there in the things she did like writing me letters so I wasn't the only student away from home with no one who cared. And despite my father's objections, she made sure I had somewhere to visit on holiday breaks when I was younger, before my father put a stop to even those. When there were times I felt sorry for myself, all I had to do was think of Gran. At least I had her.
She gave me a quick hug, and the remaining tension slowly left my body.
"Are you ready to say your final goodbyes, Pagan?" Her eyes moved to the recently dug grave and simple headstone shared with my mother's name which was now my father's final resting place.
"Of course, Gran."
I linked my arm through the crook of hers, and we walked back together. I was doing this for her. Even at his death, I had nothing to say to him.
The last time I'd seen my father was four years ago. I was thirteen and had been kicked out of a small boarding school in Chattanooga. I'd taken a bus to Nashville and then hitched a ride the rest of the way home. The reception I'd received upon my unannounced visit and reckless expedition caused anything but good feelings between us.
Even now I still remembered every word he said to me that night when I'd opened the front door and entered the house.
"What are you doing here, Pagan?" He looked down at me from his six-foot frame as I stood there in the foyer of our home. Arms crossed. No welcoming hug for the prodigal daughter's return. I didn't know what to say, and he really didn't want an answer.
"Your grandmother was going to drive to the school tomorrow and bring you to Fairvue. This latest fiasco, was a prank no doubt designed to get you kicked out of yet another school. You do realize we will eventually run out of schools that will accept someone with your reputation for trouble, don't you? At least this one promised us you could stay until someone could come and collect you. Something you apparently decided you couldn't do."
I dropped my duffel bag on the floor and faced the man who I knew was my father even though he looked little like me. The gray-blue eyes staring back at me were our only similarity. Where I was fair, he was dark. There was no hint of auburn in his brown hair that was only beginning to be flecked with gray. Other than the color of our eyes, the one thing we did have in common was our personalities.
We were both stubborn.
I never backed down from a challenge and neither did he. It wasn't the ideal combination for father-daughter bonding. Yet even then, on that night, I had known it was more than stubbornness which separated us.
The real problem was that, except for my eyes, I was the identical image of my mother.
That mirror like reflection was the reason he couldn't stand to look at me. The resemblance alone was enough to make him never want to see me. Not because he hadn't loved my mother. But because he had. He had loved her desperately. Obsessively.
Looking at me, seeing her reflected in me, it wasn't a comfort to him. Instead it was a constant reminder of what he had lost. And even worse than my resemblance, in his mind, was my very existence. I was the true cause of his unbearable loss. She had died while I was being born, and for that I would never be forgiven. Because of that, our relationship was forever broken.
Talking to my father wasn't something I wanted to do, but my stubbornness demanded I defend myself. My voice only shook a little as I answered back.
"No one made me leave, but no one stopped me either. Maybe you shouldn't have sent me to a school you have to pay for where they don't even notice when one of their students is missing."
My father was done being a statue. He began pacing the room like a caged tiger waiting for his moment to pounce.
"Oh, they knew alright, young lady. Which is why I got a phone call at midnight saying you had left without permission, and from what they could tell from the scribbled note you left, you were going to hop a bus in the middle of the night and head straight for home. It was only at my assurance that I was not holding them responsible in any way for your irresponsible behavior that I managed, again, to keep the police from being involved in yet another one of your ridiculous antics. For once I almost wish I had bought you a phone, so I could have called you and told you not to even bother to come here. This time, Pagan, you've gone too far."
The muscles in his neck bulged as he spoke. His voice had grown louder with each word he'd hurled at me. The gauntlet had been thrown, and I was ready to pick it up.
Neither of us would ever know what might have happened next if Gran hadn't come down the stairs.
She seemed to take in everything. Most likely she had heard most of it. The walls of Fairvue were over two hundred years old, and sound carried easily in the pre-Civil War home, especially voices raised in anger.
I admired her that night. How she had walked between her own son and her only grandchild and without hesitation enveloped me in the warmth of her arms, knowing he would not be happy, but showing her love for me all the same. I had never wished as much as I did that night that i
t was my grandmother who had been given custody of me when my mother died. Why he wouldn't let her have me, when I knew she had asked, always confused me. Maybe it was simply one more way he could hurt me like I had hurt him since the day I was born.
Despite the warmth of her greeting, I was still primed for a fight, but somehow she gave me the strength to calm the erratic beating of my heart.
I didn't see my father leave that night, but I heard him.
The slam of the back door was the last thing my father ever gave me until the strange and awkward peace I felt today as he was buried in the ground. I closed my eyes and with a slight shake of my head brought myself back to the present.
I would find a way to say goodbye and make some type of peace with him. He had been buried in my heart for so much longer than this day. For me the graveside service did not feel like the end of anything. Instead it was a new beginning. I would not waste it on past regrets.
I took Gran's hand in my own and squeezed her fingers. No one should spend life worrying about what could have been, what should have been, or wondering why it never was. I was determined to start things over.
Every pain, every slight, every hard look from my father over the years pierced my heart until there was hardly anything of me left to feel.
I wanted to feel again but without the guilt or the pain. I wanted to believe that my life has a purpose beyond making my father's life miserable.
At Fairvue, I could find myself again.
Eyes wide open now, I stared at my father's gravestone. His time for interfering in my life was over.
This time I wasn't the one who was leaving.
Chapter Two
Walking into a high school cafeteria on the first day at a new school is about as much fun as swimming around in a cage full of sharks right before feeding time.
This was a life and death situation.
Seriously.
Despite my usual bravado, I was no exception to feeling afraid in unchartered waters filled with predators. I took a deep breath as I entered the room and thought, let the feeding frenzy begin on my first day at my new high school. If it meant I didn't have to go back to boarding school and I could live at Fairvue, then I could handle anything.
Maybe.
Lucky for me, sarcasm, sarcasm, I was used to being the new student what with all my first days at my many different schools. My thick skin was virtually shark proof, or in this case, high school traumatized proofed. Or, well, at least I hoped so if I were going to convince Gran I should stay.
After changing schools several times, I quickly learned to survive by keeping my head low and my opinions to myself. Well, except for the times I'd been noticed enough to get myself kicked out. But since most of those were deliberately planned, those times really didn't count. Of course, I couldn’t explain my reasons to anyone, or I’d sound like some type of paranoid teenager, so they remained my own little secrets. Let everyone think I was a brat that simply wanted to go home. Of course, I had wanted to go home. To feel safe. But not correcting their opinion had always been easier. There was something to be said about the easier route. Too bad I couldn’t figure out what that was right this minute.
Desperate to avoid eye contact, I didn't quite succeed. I was stunned when one of the predators in the cafeteria turned friendly and not in a friendly like I'm going to have you for dinner kind of way. A girl my age with massive amounts of blonde hair and a wide smile which complemented her perfectly matched shades-of-pink wardrobe, appeared to be staring right at me and waving for me to join her. I was so caught off guard by the gesture that I turned my head to see if someone was standing behind me. There was no way she could possibly be motioning to me.
I looked over both shoulders and even turned my head as far as I could without actually walking in a full circle to get the view behind me, but I seemed to be the only one standing in my area.
I looked again.
Girl still waving.
Okay. Definitely only me here.
Girl still waving. At me. What kind of hick town was this when the teenage inhabitants didn't even know the required rules of rudeness?
Now what was I supposed to do?
I hated making split-second decisions. Was I supposed to acknowledge the blonde and actually join the cheerleader-looking girl, or take my chocolate chip cookie and glass of sweet tea outside as I had originally planned and get my total rush of sugar all by myself?
Yep, that was my original idea. Eat alone. No smiling, pep club wannabes in my immediate future. No friendlies were supposed to be in the area.
Knowing the best thing to do for my own self-preservation was to pretend I didn't see her. I was about to make a clean getaway to the exit leading outside to the picnic tables when Gran's parting words echoed off the walls of the cafeteria and into my thoughts - like one of those old black and white Twilight shows where some narrator's voice can be heard even when the characters on the screen don't have a clue where the voice is coming from.
"This can be a new start." Gran's voice stalled my escape. She had seemed so hopeful this morning as she spoke to me before I left for school.
"I know it's going to be hard for you, Pagan, finishing up your junior year when school only has a few weeks left until summer, but it will be good for you to make some friends before the break. You'll see I'm right."
I smiled because I knew that's what she wanted me to do, and I kissed her on the cheek because that's what I wanted to do, before I walked out the door and let it slam behind me.
What I did not do was answer her. I couldn't speak over the knot that had unexpectedly formed in my chest. Having someone there who actually cared was hard to get used to, even if it was what I wanted.
After leaving the house I had scurried down the porch steps, angling my escaping footsteps towards the woods. It hadn't taken me long to figure out the shortest route to school once I was sure boarding school was no longer part of my future plans. Fortunately, it had taken very little persuasion on my part to convince Gran that I didn't need to leave again.
The city of Jasper's only high school, cleverly named Jasper High School, was close enough to Fairvue that I didn't need to drive the rusted, blue painted monstrosity with the wooden flatbed so proudly attached to the truck's cab that had been offered to me.
Gran had graciously given me full use of the questionable vehicle. After taking me out to one of the many barns on the farm, she'd opened two large wooden doors and presented my new ride with a flourish of her arms like she was a game show host handing out the night's big prize. My look of astonishment seemed to be the only encouragement she needed to continue. She assured me with a straight face that the flatbed truck was the only extra vehicle she had available for me to drive, but that I should consider it mine.
Luckily my walking shortcut through the woods brought me near enough to the school's parking lot that I didn't have to drive unless the weather turned extra nasty. I had been given very little practice driving during my time away, a fact I was quick to point out to Gran, but it didn't seem to faze her.
My license had been earned only due to a driver's education program I'd been forced to take. I was surprised when my father had agreed and signed the papers for me to take the class. Without a vehicle of my own at school, there had been little opportunity to actually use my earned license. Of course with what Gran was offering me to drive, I could easily understand why she wasn't worried about how much actual road practice I had accumulated. Any damage I might do to the truck while it was under my care could only enhance its classic look.
So after my morning and the tough decision of whether to drive the questionable antique or risk exposure to mosquito bites and poison ivy from my walk, who knew I would be faced with yet another major life decision. And all before I'd even had lunch.
Bubbly blonde was going to be worse than poison ivy. I could feel myself already getting uncomfortable.
Making a new decision before I could talk myself out if it, I walked across
the cafeteria and slid into the seat beside the welcoming one woman crew and silently prayed I wouldn't regret my choice to join her at the table. For just a moment my eyes stared longingly at the exit doors that framed my freedom before focusing my attention on what I knew would make Gran really happy.
The girl sitting beside me smiled even wider, if that were humanly possible. There was such a thing as too nice. Not that anyone had ever accused me of that quality, but I'd heard rumors that such a condition existed, and I was pretty sure I was about to witness my first case.
"Faith Johnson." The blonde stranger held out her hand for me to shake like she was a politician at the local county fair running for her first seat in some important office.
I looked pointedly at her outstretched hand before taking my glass in both my own. I took a large swallow of the delicious drink. Sweet tea was something they never had at any of the schools I'd attended. I had forgotten how good it could taste. I took another long, slow swallow.
Maybe it was all the sugar I was consuming, but I suddenly felt bad for not being nicer as I watched Faith withdraw her hand and place it back on the table without losing her welcoming grin.
My guilt didn't last long because my nonverbal snub did not slow down my new acquaintance. She did at least ease away from me a little, which was fine with me. I wasn't a fan of being crowded.
"I know who you are, so you don't even have to tell me." She paused to give me time to respond, but since I didn't know what to say, she continued. "Why, everyone here has been all a buzz that Pagan Saunders has finally moved back home."
The news surprised me, but she didn't seem to notice as she kept talking in one of the fastest spoken Southern drawls I had ever heard.
"We were in preschool together but you probably don't remember that. Well, honestly, I didn't really remember it either until my mother pointed you out to me in the class picture we have in a frame in the living room along with all my class pictures and awards, which as you might imagine are a lot. Really, you probably couldn't imagine because you don't really know me, but let me just tell you there are several of them. Awards and pictures, I mean. On account of my doing rather well in school and the fact that next year is our last year since we're seniors and all, so that's quite a bit of time to collect awards and whatnots."
Crossings: A Sovereign Guardians Novel Page 2
