by Lee Crystal
By the time I got everything ready, Grandpa and Ethan had set up the canopies, picnic tables, chairs, and coolers in the backyard. Grandma had started the tradition of this barbeque before I was born, and after she died, Grandpa kept it going. Mostly just people from our road came, but a few other friends always showed up, too.
“Hello?... Tare?”
“Cousin Tare, Cousin Tare!”
I heard the voices coming from the entry. “In the kitchen!” I hollered as I hunched down against the cabinet.
“Tare? Momma, where is she?” Maddie asked as she walked toward the cabinet. When I could see her get close enough, I emitted a growling noise, knowing this was her cue to find me.
“Cousin Tare! I gonna find you!” she called out with glee. Her little four-year-old feet started to patter on the tile and I gave a bigger growl. “Aaahh, I gotted you!” she said as she turned and ran into my arms. “Momma, I find her!”
“You did find me, little punk,” I said and started tickling her.
Maddie was Aunt Mel and Uncle Jim’s daughter. I loved her adorable playfulness and how she always brightened my mood. It was impossible not to smile with her.
“I see you did,” Aunt Mel said down to Maddie. She looked to me, “What do you need help with?”
“Everything is ready, just needs to be set outside.” I gave Maddie a quick snuggle and set her down.
“Uncle Jim outside?” I asked Aunt Mel.
“No, he’s going to be a little late, his golf game ran behind.” She rolled her eyes.
I laughed. She hated golf and gave Uncle Jim a hard time every chance she could. We both lifted a tray of food and headed to the sliding door with Maddie in tow.
“Etan!” Maddie yelled for Ethan, and was running off in his direction.
I put out my tray next to Aunt Mel’s on one of the picnic tables. “I think I’m going to go say hi to Dad, I’ll help with the rest in a minute,” she said.
“Okay,” I told her, making my way back inside for more. With a tray in hand, I reached to open the sliding glass door, and jumped back. The tray slipped from my hands with a deafening crash as a scream escaped my lips. Carter was standing on the other side of the glass. He opened the door and rushed to me.
“Are you okay? I was just coming in to use the bathroom. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, grabbing both my hands. The look of concern, and maybe fright, on his face along with his touch was calming. To my surprise, I felt my heart rate slow. My breath felt steady. I couldn’t believe I actually wasn’t panicking. Not to say he didn’t scare me half to death, but no real panic. Strange, yet a welcome strange. His hands enveloped mine, grasping and holding them. They felt warm and rough, but not hard.
“I’m fine, you just scared the crap out of me,” I gasped out, meeting his gaze. God, I think I was in love with his eyes. So bright and warm, cozy even.
“TARYN!” I heard Ethan and Grandpa yell as I saw them running through the sliding door. I let go of Carter’s hands, but he continued to hold onto me. I looked rapidly from him to Ethan, then to Grandpa. The frantic looks on their faces snapped me into action.
“I’m okay, guys. Sorry I scared you. I just got startled, that’s all,” I said to placate them.
“It was my fault,” Carter said quickly. “I was coming in the same time she was going out. When she saw me it scared her. Sorry.” While he spoke, he did not take his eyes off of me. After a few moments of silence, and I could only imagine what Grandpa and Ethan were thinking, Carter released my hands, leaned down and started to pick up the dropped tray and food.
“I can get that, Carter,” I said as I began to do the same.
“It’s no problem, I made you drop them, after all.” He gave me a broad smile. Before I could stop it, a giggle erupted, and then another.
“You just keep seeing me at my worst, lucky you,” I said in amusement. It was either that or start crying. How many times could I make a fool out of myself in front of him?
“Nah, not your worst, just you,” he replied with soft sincerity. I was a little taken aback, and tried not to question exactly what he meant by that. We both stood up, and I took the tray from him.
“Thanks,” was all I managed to get out as I walked back to the kitchen. After taking care of the ruined salads and dirty tray, I arranged new bowls of food and headed back out. As I got to the slider, I was relieved to find it free of any huge, muscled men and walked out on the patio. I noticed that Ethan was talking to Carter, and it seemed a little intense. I was curious what had Ethan so agitated. I was stupidly hoping it wasn’t about me. Not wanting to face them if it was, I ignored them.
After everything was set out, and guests had arrived, I piled some food on a paper plate, but didn’t feel much like eating, or talking to anyone, for that matter. I sat at a table by myself, pushing beans and pasta corkscrews around with my fork. Ethan approached me and dropped into the folding chair next to mine.
“Hey, why are you sitting over here by yourself?” he asked.
“Ethan, do you ever get tired of constantly worrying about me?” I asked without answering his question.
He looked at me, and his frustration revealed little creases in the corners of his eyes. “No,” he said. “I have worried about you since you were a baby, and I was just out of diapers. I will worry about you until I die. It is what it is, and Taryn, honestly, I wouldn’t be me without you. I need you just as much as you need me. That’s the way it should be, always.”
I nodded. “You know, I worry about you, too. I worry about what you’re sacrificing for my sake. The things you could be doing, instead of always hanging around taking care of me. I’ve been thinking of talking to Uncle Jim about seeing another psychologist or something. I really want to go to school, and I realize that can’t happen right away, but I want to be on my own.” I could see his mood shift from frustration to anger. “I don’t want to be dependent on you all my life, Ethan. I want to do things too, like maybe drive a car, have friends, or heaven forbid a boyfriend.”
I didn’t really know why I chose that moment to tell him, but it just bubbled out. Although, I regretted that decision when he went from just angry to downright scary.
“Taryn, NO… the answer is NO,” he burst out. “You can’t live by yourself. You know what? We will discuss this later, not right now.”
He was really mad. I didn’t think he would be so angry. Worried—yes. Pissed off—no.
“Yeah… okay, Ethan,” I said, feeling dejected. He was right, this was going to be a fight, because I was not backing down. I would be reasonable, but I was not resigning my life to being perpetually babysat. He ruffled my hair, and walked back toward the party.
I decided to walk down to the lake. The lakeshore had always provided me solace and peace. I made my way down the sloping yard to the bank and slipped off my flip flops. I was thankful for my shorts and tank top. It had to be at least ninety degrees, and for Oregonians that was hot, like scorching hot.
I waded in until the water was at my ankles, and brushed my feet against the sandy bottom. When I was here, it was really the only time that I could let thoughts of my Dad creep in. I missed him; missed his dry sense of humor, his nerdy polo shirts and glasses, the notes he always left on the fridge for me. I missed his hugs and the way he would always make me feel courageous, capable, and like I was the most cherished girl in the world.
A burst of anger suddenly hit me, and I thought of how one person, one moment in time, one circumstance, or one choice could change the lives of others forever. God, I despised Malcolm McCarty, I wished…
“Hey, what are you doing out here?”
I spun around with a start, and came chest to face with none other than Carter Belmont.
“Jesus, do you have to scare me every time you talk?” I snapped, jutting my chin up at him. And, dear lord, was it a ways up. My nose only came to the middle of his chest. His size alone should have intimidated me. For some reason, I wasn’t intimidated, but irritated.
>
He laughed lightly, looking down at me. I took a step back, and the smell of him could seriously have driven me crazy. It was a clean, outdoorsy smell, almost like he had been out chopping wood or something. I liked it, I liked it more than I should have, and that bothered me. I was completely unfamiliar and untried when it came to men. These feelings that I found myself having were a little concerning.
“Do you have to get scared every time I talk?” he asked with a smirk.
I scowled at him. “What can I say? I’m afraid of stupidity,” I smirked back. What a jerk! What a handsome jerk!
He was laughing, actually full on belly laughing. I stood there watching with disbelief. I loved his laugh, it was rich and hearty. The light in his eyes was intoxicating, I thought this might have been the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Jesus, really? Did I really just think that? Holy crap, if I weren’t already crazy, I sure was now. I needed to get away from him and regain what sanity I had left.
“You are quite the smartass, aren’t you?” he asked between chortles. I hadn’t even responded to that when he continued, “You and I are going to get along great, little one.” “Little one? Did you just call me little one?” I said with indignation. Really, who did he think he was? Mega jerk, that was who.
“Well, you are little,” he said simply. He was still grinning. I wanted to smack it off his face. I lied earlier—I hated his smile. Well, that was a lie, but it sounded good.
“Who the heck isn’t little compared to you?” he asked. “You’re like your own species.” His grin got bigger.
Dammit, I did not like it, he was not handsome. I kept telling myself that, but it wasn’t helping.
“You’re a little spitfire too, I like it.”
I swear, if he said “little” one more time, I was gonna deck him. Given his size, and he was probably hard as a frickin rock, I’d probably just break my hand. I decided not to say any more, obviously talking to him was only encouraging him. I pursed my lips closed and tried to direct my gaze anywhere other than his chiseled chest and shoulders.
“Are you going to tell me what you were doing way down here?” he asked again, breaking the momentary silence.
I let out a long, insufferable sigh. “If you must know, I just needed space. I like it here, it’s quiet. Well, it was quiet, I should say.”
“Do you mind if I hang out in your quiet place?” he asked, and darn if he didn’t seem sincere.
“Sure, just please don’t scare me. I’d hate to have to really put the hurt on you.” I gave the meanest face I could muster, and it must not have been effective because he just chuckled.
We walked down the shore for quite a while, one of his long, confident strides equaling two of mine. I was surprised that I was really enjoying his quiet company. He was different from Ethan in that I felt more like an equal with him, not like a child. It was actually quite freeing. I allowed myself to relax and listen to the soft noises surrounding us: the lapping of water on the shore, the call of songbirds overhead, our feet crunching into the sand—his loud and even, mine soft and lopsided.
I was baffled by my comfort with him. Usually I wouldn’t go anywhere near anyone who wasn’t family—especially some behemoth of a man.
“What size shoe do you wear?” I blurted out of nowhere. Good grief.
“Uh… fourteen, why?” he asked, looking caught off guard.
“I was just curious,” I quickly shrugged. “I was thinking you were more than twice my size, and I wondered if your feet were in proportion with your body.” Did I really just say that out loud?
“I honestly don’t think I have ever been asked that by a girl before,” he mused.
“Glad I could be your first,” I said. He gave me a look, and I’m not sure I could name it, but if he were a wild, carnivorous animal, I think he would have eaten me.
He cleared his throat. “Do you think we should head back? I don’t want Ethan to think I kidnapped you or something.”
I sighed. “I suppose, although after tonight I might pay you to kidnap me,” I muttered.
“Oh?” he quirked his brow.
“You know a person can really get a crick in her neck looking at you?” I deflected his question. I couldn’t believe I said that.
“Well, how about instead of me kidnapping you, you come over for dinner? Then your brother won’t try to kill me, and I don’t run the risk of a prison sentence,” he said. His hands stayed at his sides, but his eyes, those eyes, were imploring.
Well, wasn’t this fan-frickin-tastic?
Chapter 5- Carter
God, she was cute. And witty, too. She was a firecracker, all right. I hadn’t laughed like that in forever. I looked down at her and a bright crimson blush had reddened her face. I knew I put her on the spot, but I wanted to ask her out, and knew from the incident at the diner that it would be a safer bet to ask her over to my house, rather than a public place.
I kept thinking about what Ethan had said to me earlier. After we cleaned up the food mess, Ethan had grabbed my arm, and started pushing me outside.
“I need a word,” was all he said, and not wanting to make an issue of it, I allowed him to drag me out. Once out of earshot, and with Mr. Dalton looking on with a bewildered expression, Ethan turned on me.
“Look, I don’t know what is going on between you and my sister. Normally, I would just kick your fucking ass for touching her, but the fact that she let you touch her is what’s holding me back,” he said, studying me intently.
“What do you mean, she’s letting me touch her?” I asked, not quite understanding.
He let out a long breath, ran his hands over his face and looked back to me. “Man, it’s just what I said. She let you touch her. Normally, if someone she isn’t real familiar with—and I mean like anyone other than her family—touches her, she will panic. The fact that she didn’t go into a real panic then when you startled her, or even when you touched her, well, that is the first time that’s happened.”
I didn’t know what he meant by her not panicking when I scared her. It sure as shit looked like she panicked to me.
“I’m not sure why or how, but she is obviously comfortable around you. But… if you are going to hang with her, you need to know a few things.” His eyes turned hard and his jaw tensed. “She is not like normal girls. If you hurt her in anyway, God help me, I will kill you. She has dealt with enough shit, and if I hadn’t seen the way she reacted with you, I wouldn’t risk it.”
Ethan started to bounce on his toes, and I couldn’t tell if he was nervous or agitated. Sensing this conversation would be lengthy and wanting him to keep his shit together, I told him, “I’ll be right back.” I gestured with my pointer finger in the air to show that it would only take me one minute.
I quickly walked to the coolers, pulled out two icy beers, and grabbed two folding chairs on my way back. He was still bouncing when I got back to him, so I handed him the beer, set up the chairs and said, “Sit the fuck down and just get it out.” He was starting to make me nervous.
After Ethan sat and took a swig of his beer, he started talking. “I’m going to tell you some things about Tare, and if you think you can’t handle them, please don’t pursue anything with her.” I nodded, wanting him to continue. “She panics from a lot of different things, but the main triggers are swearing, mostly “fuck,” but other words will sometimes do it, too. She doesn’t do public places well, as you saw yesterday. She can’t go into a crowded place, she hasn’t even been into a store in more than two years. The last time was a total clusterfuck, and she passed out in front of a slew of shoppers. Not only that—God, she’d kill me if she knew I was saying this— but you need know.” Ethan puffed up his cheeks with air then blew it out in a short burst. “She… um, pissed herself, right there in the entry of a Walmart, of all places. She was embarrassed for weeks, and refused to leave her room.”
He looked at me to make sure I was still following. I could see his distress over telling me these things. I nodded,
encouraging him to continue.
“She hates being treated like a child,” he continued. “She thinks I have given up my life or some shit. She wants to do things on her own, but you have to understand, she can’t. At least not right now, she can’t be left alone.”
Ethan was adamant about telling me this. I didn’t quite get why, but it was not really the time to question.
“She can’t stand the dark, or to be touched by someone she doesn’t know. She also has a limp. She tries to hide it, and she will never admit when she is in pain. It’s one of those things I have to watch for, and try to rein her in when she’s taken it too far. She has pride, Carter. It kills her to be, as she puts it, babysat.”
“What caused the limp?” I asked.
He was quiet for a moment, and I saw sadness and pain, then rage in is expression. He sat straight up, looked at me and the cold fury in his eyes was unsettling. “She was shot.” He spit it out.
It took me a second to comprehend what he just said. “What?!” I burst out. I couldn’t help it. I stood up, not being able to control the instant panic that hit me. Shot? What the fuck? How the fuck? WHO THE FUCK?
A burst of heat propelled through my chest, and I felt the need to crush something. My vision grew hazy for a moment as my brain ran through all the emotions it knew—not one seemed to process how someone could hurt Taryn on purpose. Ethan met my gaze, and I saw in his eyes exactly what I was feeling.
“How?” was all I could manage to verbalize.
“I made a promise to my sister that some things were between us, and unless she decides to tell you, I can’t break this with her,” he replied. He looked solemn, and I think he wanted to tell me, but he was obviously devoted to Taryn, and I couldn’t fault him for that. But, Jesus, I needed to know. I had to know. Did she have an abusive boyfriend? I couldn’t imagine Ethan letting someone hurt her, but maybe that was why he was so overprotective. I just didn’t know.
“Just tell me this: does any of this have to do with your Dad?” I asked, watching his reaction.
