How (Not) to Fall in Love

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  December 13

  It was dark by the time Lucas and Mark drove away with the last load in my truck. Charlie drove the U-Haul, while Sal and Mom’s new recovery friends followed in their overflowing trucks and cars. We’d survived moving day, with the help of our new tribe.

  Mom and I stayed behind to do one last sweep of the house to make sure we weren’t forgetting anything. We stood in the dining room, arms wrapped around each other, looking up at the chandelier no one had bought at the estate sale.

  “I still feel like someone’s going to stab me whenever I look at it,” I said.

  Mom laughed softly. “It wasn’t one of my better decisions.”

  “But you like it,” I said. “That’s what matters. Are you bringing it with us?” I couldn’t see it in Mrs. Sandri’s cozy dining room.

  Mom shook her head. “It stays with the house. It belongs here.”

  I nodded. We both jumped when the doorbell rang, its chime echoing off the empty walls and floors. Toby ran to the door, skittering across the tile floors, his paws not used to the lack of rugs.

  J.J. stood on the porch, his features harsh under the bright porch lights. I was shocked to see him. He was such a part of my old life that seeing him was like stepping back in time.

  None of us spoke for several seconds.

  “May I come in?” he asked.

  Mom gestured him into the foyer.

  “I know it’s a bad time,” he said, looking around at the empty rooms. He turned to Mom, his eyes full of sadness. “I’m so sorry, Marilyn. I never thought it would come to this.”

  Mom nodded. “None of us did. But here we are.” She took a shaky breath and reached into her pocket, then held out a keychain. “I guess you’re here for these.”

  He frowned. “That’s not why I’m here.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair, which was peppered with much more gray than a few months ago. “I wanted to warn you before you see tomorrow’s news.”

  “Is it Dad?” I whispered. “Have you heard from him?” Mom reached out for my hand. We gripped each other’s fingers tightly.

  J.J. shook his head. “No. It’s Harvest. We’re officially declaring bankruptcy. Everyone is being laid off. A trustee will take over what little funds are left.”

  I looked at Mom, who stood as still as a statue.

  “So you’ve given up,” Mom said. “All of you have.”

  J.J. sighed. “Haven’t you, Marilyn?” He threw out his arms, encompassing the empty house with his gesture. “There’s nothing left to hope for.”

  Mom dropped her head.

  “That’s not true.” The anger in my voice surprised me. “We can’t give up hope. He’s going to come home. Someday.”

  J.J. shook his head, his face haggard and drawn. “Even if he does, what’s left for him now?”

  Mom’s head snapped up. “We are, damn it. We’re still here.”

  “Don’t you think he would’ve come home by now, if that was enough?”

  The cruelty of his words shocked me. How could Dad’s friend say something so awful? “You should leave,” I said. “Now.”

  He held out his hand and Mom dropped the keys into his upturned palm. His fingers closed around the keys and I felt like he’d just slammed the door on all our history together. The shared family trips to our cabin, to the Harvest company ski condo, the hours of babysitting I’d logged with his kids. All of it meant nothing to him.

  “I’ll have our secretary call you for your new address, in case we need to send any more legal documents.”

  “You do that,” Mom said, her voice falling like ice chips.

  We watched him get into his Jag and drive away. Mom sagged against me and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.

  “He’s scared,” I said. “And angry. He’s lashing out at the wrong people.” I’d heard that from the TV shrink reruns I still watched when I couldn’t sleep. I’d learned some things besides the Lancelot rescue-hero complex. Like the signs of depression. I was pretty sure we’d missed or ignored all of them with Dad.

  “I know,” Mom said, “but what if he’s right? What if we’re not enough?” She turned to face me. “I know I dismissed your idea of Dad chasing Stonehenge, but I’ve been hoping you were right. Hoping he was on some bizarre quest that would lead him home. Eventually.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that,” I said. “About where I think he is, and where he might go next.”

  Mom bit her lip. “You really think you know where he is?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think I have a decent guess.”

  She swallowed, her hand at her throat. “Maybe…maybe I can hire a private investigator to find him, if you’re sure. You can’t go, Darcy. You can’t.”

  I frowned but didn’t argue. The only person going on a hunt for my dad was me. But now wasn’t the best time to plead my case with Mom.

  “Let’s go, Mom. We’ll talk about this later. Everyone’s waiting for us.” I forced a smile. “They probably already ate all the pizza.”

  She took a deep breath and looked around one last time, her eyes drinking in the emptiness.

  “Come on, Toby,” I called. He charged out the front door and down the steps toward Mom’s Volvo.

  Mom walked through the doorway, tears glinting in her eyes. She squeezed my shoulder, then followed Toby.

  I pulled the door closed behind us and didn’t look back.

  Chapter Thirty

  December 17

  National Newswire BREAKING NEWS

  Tri Harvest Industries held a press conference today from headquarters in Denver, Colorado. Acting president J.J. Briggs began the conference by reading the following press release:

  “The board of directors voted today to file bankruptcy. A trustee has been appointed by the court to liquidate all assets and pay off all debts. All employees will be terminated as of the end of December.”

  Mr. Briggs was asked to comment about the continued absence of Tyler Covington, the face of Tri Harvest.

  “He’s not coming back,” J.J. said. “We had no choice but to file bankruptcy. We don’t even know if he’s still in the country.”

  Mr. Briggs was asked if the return of Mr. Covington could change the board’s decision to file bankruptcy.

  “That’s a moot question,” said Mr. Briggs. “Ty’s gone. For good.”

  Mr. Briggs declined to answer any more questions.

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  “I knew it! I knew that guy was a total fraud. Good luck getting refunds on your Harvest tour tickets.” –DaveInDenver

  “He helped me through awful times. I don’t know what happened to him, but I’ll always love Ty.” –MissKT

  “You true believers are nuts, MissKT. The guy might as well have held a gun to your head and robbed you.” –DaveInDenver

  “I’m not going to argue with you, Dave. You can’t change my mind and I can’t change yours.” –MissKT

  Lucas texted me as I unpacked a box in our new kitchen. “Can I come by your house tonight after work?”

  Like I’d say no.

  “Make sure your mom’s home, too.”

  So much for the hot and heavy kissing session I was hoping for.

  “Sure. C U tonight.” I wondered what he was up to. I tore open another box. I’d find out soon enough.

  It was after ten when Lucas rang the doorbell. Mom had made hot chocolate and actually baked cookies when I told her he was coming over. She even used her snowman cookie cutter. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her bake. The sight of her standing sentry over our professional grade Kitchen Aid mixer made me deliriously happy.

  Toby barked when he heard Lucas calling to him from the other side of the door. Disloyal dog.

  I flung open the door and my mouth dropped open. Lucas and Charlie stood
on the top step, balancing a Christmas tree between them. The smell of fresh-cut pine filled my nose, flooding me with memories. Liz stood on a lower step, smiling up at me and holding shopping bags overflowing with wrapped packages. Pickles bounced up and down next to Liz, waving to me and giggling, wearing a headband full of jingle bells.

  “What… Why…” My brain stopped computing.

  “Can we come in?” Lucas asked. “Or do you just like watching me show off my muscles?”

  Laughing, I stepped back and opened the door wide. The room filled with voices and laughter as Lucas and Charlie set up the tree next to the fireplace. Mom directed Lucas to the basement for the Christmas decorations. He returned with an enormous box of ornaments and cobwebs in his hair. Charlie queued up an Ella Fitzgerald holiday album on his iPod while Pickles stuffed herself with sugar cookies and hot chocolate.

  Lucas pulled me into the darkened hallway for a deep, toe-curling kiss. I brushed cobwebs out of his hair when his kisses drifted down my jaw to my neck.

  “Lucas,” I whispered. “There’s a parent and sibling here. Plus an uncle and my boss.”

  “So?” he murmured, working his way back up my neck to my earlobe.

  Pickles bounced into the hallway. “Presents!” she exclaimed. “We’re putting them under the tree right now!” She stared at us as Lucas came up for air. “Why are you eating Darcy’s ear?”

  “I’m hungry,” he said. I whacked him on the chest.

  Pickles wrinkled her nose. “You’re gross, Lukie.”

  I shot him a warning glare but he just pulled me in close again.

  “Go away, Pickles,” he growled. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

  Pickles drifted back toward the living room but we heard her loud voice. “Lucas and Darcy are kissing. Because he’s hungry.”

  Oh God.

  We laughed against each other’s lips, but we kept kissing.

  Later we all sat around the tree. As she hung ornaments on the tree, Mom told stories about all of the lame ones I’d made over the years. Lucas took the popsicle frame with my brace-face sixth grade photo and hung it from his shirt collar.

  “I’m keeping this one.” He grinned at me.

  “I bet you have one just like it.”

  “Nah. I never needed braces.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course you didn’t.”

  A pile of wrapped packages spilled around the base of the tree. Just like on Thanksgiving, my heart overflowed with the love I felt from everyone. Lucas retrieved a small box wrapped in reindeer paper. He sat down next to me on the loveseat. “Open it,” he said.

  I glanced around the room self-consciously but no one was watching us. “It’s not even Christmas yet.”

  “Haven’t you heard of the twelve days of Christmas?” His eyes danced in the glow of the fire. “There’s more where this came from. Open it.”

  “Okay.” I felt myself blushing with anticipation. I’d never had a present from a guy before, except for the stuffed Elmo my kindergarten crush had given me, then taken back at nap time.

  I unwrapped the package slowly, savoring the moment. Inside was a tiny box that said “Build Your Own Stonehenge.” I flipped it over to see a picture of a tiny green mat and tiny stones, a miniature replica of the original henge in England.

  “I hope it’s okay,” he said softly. “It made me think of you. And your dad.”

  “It’s perfect,” I whispered. “Just like everything else tonight.”

  He leaned over and kissed me softly on the cheek. I leaned against his shoulder, absorbing his warmth, wishing we could stay like that forever. But with everyone there, I knew it was time to tell them about my plan.

  Mom and I had run the gauntlet and survived. We’d left our old life behind and were starting a new life together. But while I’d spent the past few days unpacking, I’d had a lot of time to think. And all I’d thought about was Dad. About all the signs and clues we’d missed. About the appearances he’d skipped last summer, or the ones where he showed up but dialed it in.

  I’d remembered one day in the summer, hearing J.J. and Dad screaming at each other in Dad’s office and slinking away from confrontation rather than asking what was wrong. Holding the tiny Stonehenge model, I turned the box over and over in my hands. If the last few months had taught me anything, it was that I could deal with all kinds of crap, and survive.

  “Hey, Pickles, come here sweetie.” She’d been lying on the floor with Toby, using him as a giant pillow. She scrambled over to me and I wrapped an arm around her. “I need to have a grown-up talk with everyone right now, so I’d like you to go play in my bedroom for a little while.” She gave me a sour look, earning her nickname. “I have some new beads, and a sparkly gold cord to string them on. You can make a Christmas necklace. Come on.”

  Lucas’s penetrating stare hooked on me when I returned. “You all right, Shaker Girl?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Just do me a favor. I need you to rein in your inner Lancelot, okay?”

  He frowned at me. “What?”

  Ignoring him, I spread out my map on the coffee table as everyone stopped talking to watch me.

  Mom set her mug down and worry creased her face. Charlie and Liz watched me with concern and curiosity. Lucas sat up straighter. I could practically feel him reaching for his imaginary sword. So much for reining it in.

  There was silence for a few moments as everyone stared at the map. I’d marked all of Dad’s postcard locations with yellow post-its, and potential next stops with red stars.

  “What is this?” Charlie asked.

  “It’s Dad’s route, where he’s been so far.” I looked into his worried eyes. “And my best guess of where he’s going next.”

  “No way,” Lucas said next to me, his words clipped and angry. “No freaking way. You are not doing this, Darcy.”

  “Doing what?” Liz asked.

  “Going on a damn rescue mission,” Lucas snapped. His nostrils flared and in spite of my frustration, I had to suppress a giggle because I could practically see him storming through his castle, barking orders.

  “What?” Mom sounded panicked. “Rescue mission? Darcy, we’ve talked about this. Honey, you can’t do this. Not now. Not after we…” Her voice broke and she started to cry, making me feel terrible. But I couldn’t give up.

  “See, this is exactly why I warned you to rein it in.” I turned on Lucas. “If you’d let me explain rationally—”

  “I agree with your mom, Darcy,” Charlie interrupted. “You can’t possibly go off on some sort of crazy road trip based on random post—”

  “This is why you wanted the truck fixed, isn’t it?” Lucas’s voice was low and angry. “How long have you been planning this?”

  I looked into his stormy eyes, and knew I had to press on, no matter how upset he was.

  “I can do it, Mom. I can find him. I know his path looks random, but he’s chasing clonehenges. I’m pretty sure he’s—”

  “Pretty sure?!” Lucas exploded next to me. “You think you’re going to just hit the road and—”

  I whirled on Lucas. “I told you about this before, Lucas. About my map. Why are you acting like this?”

  “Because you think you don’t need anybody!” He was pissed. “You think you can fix everything by yourself.”

  “Not everything. But I can do this by myself.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Charlie said softly. “If you’re determined to do this, you can’t do it by yourself.”

  “No,” Mom said. “Let’s call the police, or maybe a detective.”

  “No one’s coming with me!” Frustration surged through me. After all I’d done, everyone was treating me like I really was a damsel in distress who couldn’t do anything by herself.

  I turned back to Lucas. “You need to stop. I mean it. I’m not asking you to go fight dragons for me, so just back off.” He opened his mouth to argue but I kept talking, turning my attention to Charl
ie. “Charlie, I love you and everything, but you have a store to run.”

  “Maybe I could go…” Mom said, her eyes on the floor.

  “No, Mom. You need to stay here. You need to go to your meetings and be with your new friends.” She raised her eyes and I smiled. “I’ll only be a couple of days.”

  “I’m going with you,” Lucas said, his voice low and full of ominous tones, like he was trying to hypnotize me with his superhero powers.

  I turned on him again. “Okay, dude? The Lancelot thing? Not happening this time. You have a job—”

  “So do you,” he shot back.

  “—and a sister to take care of.”

  We glared at each other, breathing heavily.

  “Where do you think he is, Darcy?” Liz’s voice was calm, controlled. I turned toward her, grateful she was treating me like an adult.

  “I’m guessing Idaho, or Montana. He was in Washington, at a clonehenge in Maryhill. He sent us a postcard from there. But there aren’t any other henges between there and Montana that I can find. I think he’s headed to southern Montana. Some crazy rich guy built a private clonehenge on his property north of the Wyoming border.”

  Liz glanced at Charlie. “That’s what, maybe an eleven or twelve hour drive from here?”

  Charlie rubbed a hand across his forehead. “About that, depending on weather and traffic.”

  Liz gave me a slow smile. “You can take a couple days off work. I’ve got you covered.”

  Charlie looked at Lucas. “If you can run the store for a couple of days, I’ll go with her. Even if you can’t, it won’t kill us to close for a day or two.”

  I leaned back against the couch and sighed heavily. I didn’t want to hurt Charlie’s feelings, but I worried that if I found Dad he’d totally freak if I had his hippie brother with me. The brother he’d disowned and hadn’t seen in years.

  “Fine,” Lucas snapped. “Whatever.” He stood abruptly and left the room.

  Crap. I hadn’t meant to hurt him, but I knew I had. Why couldn’t he see this was about me, not him? It didn’t mean I thought any less of him just because I wanted to do this by myself. It wasn’t his job to fix everything for me.

  “Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow,” Mom said, her voice still quiet. “Let everyone get a good night’s sleep, then talk about all our options.”