by Autumn Grey
His mouth parts as he looks at me from head to toe, and then back up. He doesn’t say a word, but I see the appreciative look in his eyes. He puts the spoon in the bowl, leans forward and brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, lingering at the corner of my mouth.
“Ice cream.” That’s all he says before he spins around and strides toward the window, leaving me shivering in his wake.
Biting my cheek to fight a grin, I unlock the door and then trail after Cole out through the window. This is so clandestine and the possibility of being discovered makes my heart race in excitement and a little bit of panic. Dad would definitely ground me for years if he found me sneaking off with Cole.
Once Cole and I are standing on the lawn, he takes my hand in his, linking our fingers together, and tugs me forward. With one final glance toward my house, I trot after him. He lets go of my hand when we reach the fence, swings his long legs over it, and motions for me to move closer.
“I could just use the—” Heat bursts through my skin where his strong, big hands circle my waist and scoop me up over the fence as if I weigh nothing. By the time my feet touch the ground, I’m giddy, fighting for breath, enjoying the rush. He holds me against his body, staring into my eyes.
His fingers leave my waist and link with mine again. He leads the way to the back of his house, opening a small gate that leads to the woods. We continue to walk deeper into the woods. It feels as though we’ve been walking for hours when suddenly he stops in between two trees. Cole drops my hand, walks the short distance to the first tree and fumbles around a small shrub until, seconds later, the entire place is illuminated by lights. His finger motions above our heads, a proud smile on his face. I look up and gasp as I stare at the structure above us. A tree house.
I look at him. “Oh my God. It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” I scan my surroundings, searching for the source of electricity, but find none. “How do you power the lights?”
“Solar power.” He points up again with a finger. I squint up and glimpse an outline of a flat object, but I can’t figure out what it is. “Solar panels,” he says, as if reading my mind. He walks to the tree covered in vines, fumbles around and suddenly the area is lit up in what looks like a million light bulbs, strung together.
My gaze comes down again. “Oh my God! This is so cool,” I whisper to myself.
“Come on,” he says, gesturing with his hand and pointing to the ladder. “I’ll go up first.”
He grips the first rung on the wooden ladder and hoists himself up. My eyes pop wider, zeroing in on his behind.
I don’t know much about backsides, but that one right up there is Class A.
He reaches the top step, looks over his shoulder and waves for me to come up. Moments later, I’m crawling inside the lit-up interior of the tree house and scrambling to sit up. I glance around, taking in the polished wood floors, shelves littered with what looks like text books, pencils and pens lying in a corner on the wooden floor. I turn to face Cole.
“This place is amazing,” I say, pulling my knees up and wrapping my hands around my legs.
He flashes me a boyish grin and begins to sign and speak at the same time, “Thank you. It’s my thinking spot. I designed the house and my friend, Simon, helped me with the lighting.”
Hm. Maybe I should switch my sign language teachers and ask him if he can teach me instead of Josh.
He scratches his jaw and looks around. He lowers himself on the spot directly across from me. We stare at each other for long seconds until it starts to feel awkward.
“I’m sorry about my dad.”
He shrugs. “You don’t have to apologize for him.”
I shake my head, tightening my arms around my knees. “He was so mean to you.”
“It doesn’t bother me. Really.” His jaw tightens. My dad’s words must have affected him more than he is admitting.
I dig around inside my head, desperate to change the subject. “Megs told me you will be attending Eastern Lake in fall?” He nods, the taut look on his face fading. His gaze lingers on my mouth and I snag my bottom lip between my teeth, heat filling my cheeks. I’m not used to having someone’s entire focus on me like the way Cole looks at me.
God. His eyes are just so intense!
He continues to stare at my lips, waiting for the next words to pour out. His Adam apple bobs up and down as he swallows, then takes a deep breath.
I clear my throat. “How are the classes taught? Do they have an interpreter?”
I admit I’ve been very curious since Megs told me about it, but we never got around to talking more about it.
He nods again. “They have a special needs department, and they will provide an interpreter, which is really great.”
“I hope you don’t mind me asking. What happened? How did you. . .um. . .” I point to my ears, feeling awkward for even asking.
His lips quirk at the side in his usual almost smile. “I don’t mind talking about it. Bacterial Meningitis. I was five. Josh literally saved my life.” He blows out a breath. “It was extremely difficult adjusting from hearing to hard of hearing.”
“Oh gosh. I’m sorry,” I say. I can’t even imagine what he went through after the hearing loss. One day everything is okay and the next he’s adjusting to his new life. “That must have been hard for you and your family.”
He nods. “Yes. My mother home schooled me for about two years before she finally gave in to my badgering. I wouldn’t stop asking her to enroll me in a school. Any school. Eventually, she signed me up in Simon’s school in third grade. Being in a mainstream school as a hard of hearing student was not easy. My parents couldn’t afford an interpreter, especially with the extra lip reading classes and speech therapy they were already paying for. I learned to rely on myself. I would ask the teachers for reading materials in advance. That is how I survived elementary through high school.” He slants his head to the side, one side of his mouth tipping up. “I usually don’t talk about this, mainly because not many people are interested in my life.”
Wow. I can’t believe that this quiet boy trusted me enough to open up to me. Why was I feeling weird about it?
“I’ve heard there is an electronic device that helps with the sense of sound. I can’t remember the name—”
“Cochlear implant,” he says, and that breathy, soft rounding in some syllables tickles my sense. “They cost a lot. We couldn’t afford it.”
We continue to chat about my life in Ohio, the reason we moved here, my new school which I’ll be attending in fall, his family—which sounds amazing and very different from mine. Before we realize it, we are somehow sitting one inch from each other. Conversation fades as tension takes up the space around us. His hand moves from his side and takes mine, turning it as he looks at my arms. He brushes his thumb across the raised skin, the tip of his finger lingering there.
“Does it hurt?”
I shake my head. The visible wounds don’t hurt as much as the invisible ones do.
Cole lifts his hand again as if he can’t help himself and hovers it around my cheek. I hold my breath and wait. Wait to feel his touch send that thrill all through my body. His head dips a little, his eyes never leaving mine and he wets his lips before he exhales.
Kiss me, I beg silently. Kiss me.
He tucks the hair behind my ear instead then pulls back and I feel like someone dumped a bucket of ice down my shirt. Thunder rolls in the distance and my entire body stiffens.
“I need to go home,” I shoot to my feet and dash toward the entrance and begin my descent down the tree.
The sound of Cole’s footsteps reach me as soon as my feet hit the ground. I straighten and when I look up, Cole is standing beside me, looking perplexed. He searches my face for answers, I think. But I’m not ready to give them to him. Taking a deep breath, he looks at the sky before returning his confused stare to me, taking my hand and beginning our dash through the trees, toward home.
We reach the clearing just as fat drops of rain b
egin to hit my head. Cole tugs me forward to the fence, leaps over and circles my waist with his hands, lifting me up as he did before. I halt at the bottom of the ladder and whirl around to face Cole, our chests heaving with exertion.
I tilt my head up, blinking as the raindrops fall down faster and faster. “Thank you.” He continues to stare down at me, and I’m not sure if he caught the words from my lips. It’s too dark to see anything. I grab his hand and place his palm against my lips, and do the only thing I can think of that might make him understand what I’m saying. I mouth the words, “Thank you.”
His thumb brushes my cheek before he slides his hands to my hips and spins me around to face the ladder. His fingers dig into my skin as if he doesn’t want to let go before loosening and giving me a gentle push toward the ladder. I scramble up and when I reach the top, I swing one leg over the roof followed by the next, then glance down at him.
After a quick nod, he spins around and jogs across the lawn, does his usual leap-over-the-fence thing and strides toward his front door. Only then do I turn around and crawl through my window as thunder rolls and lightning strikes across the sky. I pull the window down and walk to the dresser to change my wet clothing, while contemplating my evening to keep my fear at bay. After years of feeling invisible, it feels great knowing that someone sees me, even when I think they aren’t looking.
I NEED TO GET A JOB. My savings have run low. Maybe Megs knows where I can get a part-time job. I’ll be meeting her as soon as I drop Mom at my grandma’s house. Elon is over at Cole’s house, playing video games with Nick. She and Nick are the same age and they seem to be getting along quite well. I’ve seen how he looks at her. The poor boy is crushing on my sister. Elise went to visit a girl she met at the community swimming pool. Three days ago, she and I drove to the local animal shelter to drop off the cat she’d rescued. Apparently, Elise had been hiding the poor thing in her room for nearly two days before Elon mentioned it. The cat didn’t have a collar so we had no choice but to take it there. My dad would have hit the roof if he’d found out about it. I’d seen that happen so many times when we were in Ohio.
Honestly, I’m not sure there is a single thing in this world that would make my dad happy. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him smile, or saw him hug my sisters or me.
Grandma called me to ask if my mom and I could visit her at her house instead of the flower shop. She asked if Elon and Elise would be coming too. I told her the girls had plans and they’d visit the next time. Grandma’s hip is starting to bother her again so she stayed home today. She had a hip fracture surgery a few years ago when she tripped and fell down the stairs from the roof terrace. The pain medication helps, but it makes her tired.
After parking the old Station Wagon my father bought for my mom when we got here, Mom and I exit the car and walk up the path leading to the beautiful white house with vines crawling up the walls. She seems much better today so I thought I’d bring her with me, hopefully leaving the four walls of our house would improve her mood.
After a round of hugs, Grandma insists on sitting on the terrace and she leads the way up a flight of stairs. Mom and I trail after Grandma, unable to dissuade her. The smell of roses and jasmine welcome us as soon as we get to the top. The space around us is a paradise for any plant-lover, and I can feel my body relax just being here. Flowers in pots are placed strategically along the walls, a wind chime sings softly to the sound of the breeze. The fire pit in the middle of the terrace is cleaned within an inch of its life and fresh wood sits beside it.
I walk toward the black metal railing at the edge of the terrace and take in the view overlooking a creek. The light splash of water against rocks soothing in the quiet air. No wonder Grandma insists on spending more time here than inside the house. The last time we visited my grandmother was when my grandfather passed away years ago. He was a tall, intimidating and non-compromising man who fought in the Vietnam War. General Blake wasn’t a man to be underestimated. Sometimes I wonder if he is the reason my dad turned out to be the way he is.
I shift around to face my grandmother when she calls my name. She hasn’t aged a lot since I last saw her. Her black hair is peppered with white. Her blue eyes are similar to my father’s, except hers are kinder, and laugh lines fan the corners. I’m glad her husband’s character didn’t change her.
She pats the space next to her on the orange-brown lounge seat. I walk over and join her. “How are you? I mean, how are you, really?”
Unable to hold her direct gaze, I drop mine to our hands and take a deep breath. “I’m getting there. My last session with the therapist was more than a year ago. That’s a huge plus, right?” I look up at her and smile.
She studies me, searching for the truth in my words. Then she laughs softly, the worry creases around her mouth disappearing. “Yes. It’s a very big plus as long as you feel strong without seeing a therapist. I never stopped praying for you. Your mother and sisters. Especially your father.”
Her eyes cloud over. “Did he say he’ll visit me?” she asks hopefully.
“Oh yes, I forgot to mention that,” Mom says a bit too enthusiastically. “He has a lot going on at the station. But he said he’ll visit you as soon as things calm down.”
Grandma smiles. She knows that Mom is making excuses for my dad like she always does to lessen any kind of tension.
Mom stands up and goes back downstairs, murmuring something about making a snack.
Grandma watches my mom until she disappears from view before she turns to face me. “Well, I’m extremely glad to hear you’re doing well, darling. How is your mama? I always worry about you all.”
“She’s. . .um. . .some days she’s doing really great. Like today. And sometimes she gets lost in her own world.” I blow out a breath through my mouth. “We’re here now. Not far away from you.”
She hugs me and we pull apart just as Mom returns, carrying a plate of fruit and cheese, smiling. She reminds me of the girl in her photos who had everything to look forward to before she met my father.
Ugh! These are the kind of thoughts that plunged my life to hell. I can’t afford to go there now. Not when my sisters need me and definitely not when my mother breaks apart at the slightest little thing.
Shoving those thoughts away, I kiss my grandmother on the cheek and walk toward Mom, sitting on one of the cushioned wood seats under an awning covered in vines and blooming flowers.
I hug and kiss her on her smooth cheek. “Have a great time with Grandma. I will pick you up later.”
“Sweetheart, you mentioned on the phone that you were looking for a job?” Grandma says, stopping me mid-step.
“Yes. Desperately.”
“I need help at the flower shop,” she says as she winks at me, knowing how much I enjoy working with flowers. I’m bouncing on my heels and clapping when she adds, “I already have someone who drops by two to three times a week to help with big deliveries and anything that requires heavy lifting.
“Also, I was wondering if you’d like to help out at the Lily Rose senior center once in a week. One of the women who plays the piano in our music group hasn’t been feeling too well. The pay isn’t much, though. If you don’t mind working with us old ladies, it would be great to have a pretty, young face around. I thought maybe you’d like to earn a little more money. We would only need you for two hours on Thursdays.”
Unable to contain my excitement any longer, I leap forward and hug her. “Thank you, thank you! I was on my way to town to see if I could find a part-time job for the summer.”
She laughs and kisses my forehead. “I can’t wait to show you off to my friends.” She beams at me, looking at me with pride. “Go on, now. I’ll prepare the flowers and pack them in a box for you.”
I wave at her and head for the stairs that lead to the kitchen.
My mom told me that after Grandma retired as a nurse, she went back to college and took some courses for Senior Care. Now she works at Lily Rose Senior Day Care & Recreational C
enter once per week, every Thursday for two hours.
I park the car outside an old, quaint cafe directly opposite from my grandmother’s flower shop, Phoebe’s Enchanted Garden. I glance through my window to read the sign swinging gently in the summer breeze.
Spinners Book Emporium & Cafe.
I grin when Megs steps out through the glass door, a huge smile on her face. “You coming or what?”
I nod, grab my purse, jump out of the car, and then race toward the door.
“Holy crap! The heat around here is killing me. I kind of miss Ohio,” I tell Megs, hurrying up in an attempt to escape the heat. She grabs my hand and drags me inside the cafe. Cool air engulfs me immediately once we’re inside. I love the café’s fifties retro look: a jukebox at the corner, black and white tiles, red diner booth sets. Even the wait staff is wearing little frilly red and white checked aprons.
“The summers here are pure torture. Come on. I’ve been waiting for you! You need to taste this. It’s orgasmic.”
A chuckle reaches me from where I’m standing. Megs rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically, before turning to face the tall blond boy sauntering towards us, a little pink apron wrapped around his waist.
He runs his long fingers through his overgrown hair and flashes me a cocky grin. “It’s a talent. My hands have that kind of gift.”
“Such a large ego,” Megs says.
“The bigger the ego, the bigger the dick.” He winks.
Megs narrows her eyes and props her hands on her hips. “Been there. Tapped that. It’s not that impressive.”
Blond Boy smirks. “Two hours ago you were worshipping my dick reverently. Didn’t you say it’s God’s gift to womankind?”
She rolls her eyes again. “Just serve us our coffee, Mr. Frilly Apron, or I will write a bad review to Mr. Spinner.”
“I’m his James Bond. Secret weapon. He can’t afford to fire me.” He smirks. “And he’s my uncle. He wouldn’t fire his only nephew.”
He swaggers to the counter, leaps to the other side, then spins around and focuses those hazel eyes on me. His gaze momentarily wanders to my arms. They widen and he clears his throat before looking up at me. My stomach flutters nervously as I wait for his verdict. He’s Megs’ friend and I really want him to like me.
