Summer Sunsets

by Maria Rachel Hooley

  “Please, Devin. Don’t. Give me time.”

  I look into those haunted eyes, and I know I can deny her nothing. Besides, I’ve been in love with her forever. What’s a few more months going to do to change that?

  Then again, I know better than to ask that. Time isn’t just a healer. It’s also a destroyer, and right now both Skye and I are dead in its sights.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Time seems to drift around us, and it seems as though everything is unchanging as Skye begins to slowly let her guard down and allow me back inside the fortress she’s worked so hard to build. Above us, the sky is open and blue, aching with summer’s promise, almost like it believes summer won’t end, and this beauty will live forever, just as the calm waters Skye and I swim in will never suddenly roil with the waves from passing boats.

  But change, when it comes, is swift. It lacks discretion and charges in with brute force, and it announces itself in the form of Skye’s biological father. His visit is unexpected, leaving everyone in Skye’s family to scramble with his coming. I know because earlier that day, I’d spoken with Skye. We’d planned to go to a movie that evening, and I’m just as surprised as everyone else to find a strange vehicle in front of the house. It’s a new sports car—a Mustang convertible that looks about as in place in the driveway as a plastic pink flamingo would be dangling from the roof above the porch.

  As I ring the bell, I have no idea what I’m walking into, and it’s only when Skye’s mother answers the door that I get the sense that something is way off. Her eyes are tired and her shoulders slump, as though she feels invisible weights pressing them down hard.

  “Hey, Helen,” I say and reach out to give her a hug.

  For a moment, we linger like that—another clue something just isn’t right here. Call me slow, but I’m deliberate at least. When she pulls back she frowns. “Devin, what are you doing here? Did Skye call you?”

  I shrug. “We spoke earlier and set up plans to go to a movie.” I glance at my watch. “It starts in about twenty minutes.”

  She nods and vacant stares at the convertible. “Well, you might want to reconsider your plans. I don’t think Skye’s going to feel up to it.”

  I point at the convertible. “Nice ride. Who does it belong to?”

  Helen swallows hard. “Skye’s father.”

  “He’s here?” I manage, feeling my back and shoulders stiffen.

  “Yeah—not because I want him to be, mind you.” She nods toward the foyer. “Why don’t you come in? You’re so close to Skye you might as well be family.”

  Yeah, something I’m still working on, I think, and edge inside. “Did Skye call him?”

  “Gracious, no!” she says, shaking her head. “He just showed up, wanting to talk to Skye. I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how Skye is when she makes up her mind about something.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  We walk over to the couch and sit. Immediately, Helen leans back against the cushions and rubs her temples. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Where’s Warren?” I look around the room, half-expecting he’s going to pop out, but he doesn’t.

  “Away on business.” She flinches and closes her eyes.

  “You all right?”

  She nods and forces a smile as she opens her eyes again. “I’m fine, Devin. But thanks for asking.”

  “Where are they now?” I keep thinking I should hear somebody saying something, but I don’t.

  “Out back.”

  “How long have they been out there?”

  Helen looks at her watch. “About fifteen minutes.”

  I nod and immediately I wish I could slug the guy. He has no idea how long it’s taken Skye to get over his sudden departure, of all times, when things are finally seeming to fall into place for her, he wants to come back and make things all better. Son of a bitch. I grit my teeth and force myself to keep sitting, knowing that even though I want to jump right in the middle of this, it’s not my place. This is a demon Skye has to dance with no matter how much I hate it.

  Down the hall, I hear the grandfather clock chime. Helen is probably right. There’s no way we’re going to make this movie. That’s of little consequence compared to what the aftermath of her father’s visit will be. Even if the man can get Skye to give him the benefit of a doubt, which I really don’t see happening, he’s going to have to live up to whatever he’s telling her, and when he fails, that’s just going to make it harder for everyone else. I close my eyes, wishing I could just have a few months with Skye when nothing fell apart so maybe she might be able to trust me to pull her through. Yeah, like that’s going to happen now.

  “So how are things going between you and Skye?” Helen asks, reaching for the glass of ice water sitting on a coaster on the coffee table.

  “They were going well.”

  She nods. “Before he came back?”

  “Yeah.”

  I ease up, thinking I’ll just go into the kitchen and take a peek, but Helen also stands. “I know what you want to do, Devin, and it’s not a good idea. Whatever is happening out there is going to happen whether you watch or not. It’s just harder when you see the storm coming and realize there’s is nothing you can do to prevent it.” She takes a sip from her water. “Would you like me to get you something to drink?”

  “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

  “No problem.” I watch her slip from the room and take a deep breath. Damn, I just thought this was going to be a stress-free night involving a romantic comedy—part of me keeping my promise to Skye. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect this. Never.

  One minute the house is too quiet. The next, Skye is slamming the back door. I whirl and see her stride through the doorway. Tears spill down her face amid two smudges of mascara, and immediately I see the wreckage of her attempts to make herself beautiful for me—the ruined make-up and hair that has slipped from the clips meant to hold it from her face.

  She gives me a look, something akin to pain and surprise, as though she’s been so blindsided by her father’s sudden visit she didn’t remember I’d be here, not that I’m going to hold that against her. There was no way she could have known either. She rushes past me out the door as I hear a male voice.

  “Skye, come back.”

  Immediately, I see Skye’s father—this is the first time I’ve ever seen him. She has his eyes, but she’s crying, and he’s angry. As if he has a right to be.

  He starts to go past me and I step into his path. “Let her go.”

  “Who the hell are you?” He glares at me, expecting that because he’s her father and older I’m going to back down. He doesn’t know me.

  “Someone who’s been picking up the pieces you left behind.”

  Helen suddenly appears and grabs his arm. “I told you nothing good would come from this, but you refused to listen.”

  “I need to talk to her a few minutes more.” He jerks his arm free and glares at me. “And this is none of your business.” He starts to walk around but I step into his path.

  “Wrong. Anything that involves Skye is my business. If you’d stayed in her life, you’d know that.”

  “Get the hell out of my way or I’ll call the cops,” he snarls.

  “And tell them what? This isn’t your house, and your daughter is an adult. She doesn’t have to include you in her life anymore.”

  He starts to argue with me, and I can tell by his stiff shoulders and jutting chin this could come to blows, but Helen grabs his arm again even though she looks at me. “Devin, go check on Skye. I’ll handle this.” He starts to go out the door, but she says, “No, you stay. You started this, and now I have to finish it for you. Again. You broke her heart twice, and that wasn’t enough.”

  Helen is yelling, something she rarely does, and that’s my cue to step outside. Skye’s nowhere to be seen. I didn’t expect she’d advertise her whereabouts. Probably the last thing she wants is to be someplace out in the open, where her loser dad can find her
.

  I walk around the house but don’t see her so I head to the Jeep and get in, planning on searching the street. It’s not unlike Skye to take a walk to cool off, and if only that could clean up this, she’d probably walk to China, but I don’t see that happening.

  I shove the keys into the ignition and turn the key before I even realize Skye is sitting there, staring out into the darkness. Tears stream down her face, glittering in the darkness. She’s folded her arms across her abdomen, as if that can hold in all the pain she’s feeling. Not likely.

  “Hey, I’ve been looking for you.”

  She takes a shuddering breath and wipes one hand across her face, trying to erase the tears. Trouble is, more keep coming. “Could you just drive, please? I don’t want to talk to my dad, and with my luck he’ll find us.”

  I pull away from the curb. “Not if your mom has anything to say about it, he won’t. That’s why he’s in the house, Skye—and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be him after she gets through.”

  I wait for her to answer. Instead, she’s looking out the passenger window. I know why. She has this thing about crying in front of people. She seems to think looking vulnerable is one of the worst things that can happen, which is crazy considering all the stuff she’s been through. I sense that wall going up, brick by brick, and somehow, without meaning to, I’ve ended up on the other side again, as though I wanted to stand next to her father. Lucky me.

  “Where do you want me to go?” I ask, wondering if she’s even got a destination in mine. I can tell it’s definitely not going to be the movies. That much is sure.

  “I don’t care.”

  “Okay.” I start to reach for her hand, but it’s locked tight against her body, and that pretty much tells me she doesn’t want to be touched. Then again, I know the key to getting Skye to deal with those emotions is touch. It’s always been touch, and ten to one it’s always been my touch. She can build all the walls she wants, but even she can’t keep the emotional turmoil buried forever.

  “Why did you even agree to talk to him?” I ask softly. Maybe it’s the wrong question; I don’t know, but I can’t stand this silence.

  “I don’t know.”

  Her voice is terse, and I sense she’s losing the battle against her emotions, which means I’m going to have to find a destination and park. She needs to talk whether or not she thinks she does.

  Ahead, I spot the turn-off to the cemetery—a strange choice, but what other place is going to be quiet, where we can talk? Besides, it’s not like the dead can do anything with the secrets they overhear. Who’re they going to tell?

  Skye’s staring out the passenger window when I pull to a stop in the gravel lot and shove the gearshift into park. I kill the engine and turn to face her. “He’s not worth it, Skye. Not by a long shot. You’re the best part of him.”

  Her shoulders sink but she refuses to face me. “That’s easy for you to say, Devin. You have both your parents with you.”

  “This again?” I ask, puzzled. “Okay, I know he’s the sperm donor. But he’s never going to be the father Warren has been. Your mom knows it, I know it, and deep down, so do you.”

  At that moment, Skye loses it, and I hear the awful, gut-wrenching sobs that tear through her. I scoot closer and wrap my arms around her, tucking her head just beneath my chin as I rock her, waiting for her world to settle enough so it isn’t breaking her heart like this.

  “Why couldn’t he just have stayed gone? Why does he have to make these guest appearances, like I should be grateful for being a stop on his tour to right things? Why?” Her voice is muffled so it’s kind of hard to hear, but I get them nonetheless.

  “I don’t know. I wish I did.” I kiss the top of her head. “But would it matter if you knew? Would it change things?”

  “No.” She sniffles and draws back slightly. “I got your shirt all wet.”

  “It’ll dry.” I reach out and tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m more worried about you.”

  “I’m fine,” she whispers in a tired voice that suggests she’s lying, and she’s wearing that lost expression I’ve come to know so well.

  “That’s what you always say,” I gently remind her, “and maybe you mean it, but you can’t control what you feel, and no matter what you tell yourself, they’re just words, Skye. Saying them won’t make them true.”

  She grits her teeth and averts her gaze. “I hate it when you do that.”

  “Do what?” I stiffen, unsure where I suddenly went wrong.

  “When you act like you know me so well, like maybe I can’t even surprise you anymore.”

  I arch my eyebrows at her. “We’ve been inseparable since we were in elementary school, Skye. We’ve told each other things we wouldn’t dream of telling anyone else. I know you better than anyone, and I don’t see what’s wrong with that.” I reach for her hand, wanting to hold some part of her close to me.

  “Because you don’t leave me any place to hide when things get messed up.” Her voice trembles, just like her body.

  “Why would you want to hide from me, Skye? I know you, remember?”

  “That’s why.”

  Suddenly my cell rings, interrupting us. I’m tempted to just let it ring because the person most likely to call is…well…right next to me at the moment, but considering the tumult over at Skye’s, I fish it out of my pocket and glance at the display.

  It’s Helen.

  Skye goes back to staring out the window, and I figure this will give me a minute to gather my thoughts as to how to deal with what she’s saying.

  “Hello?” I say, looking out my window.

  “Devin, it’s Helen. Look, don’t say anything. I just want to know if Skye is with you and if she’s all right. She was so upset when she left. Please don’t let her know it’s me.”

  I take a deep breath, knowing the odds of keeping Helen’s secret are about seventy percent against. Skye’s way too smart. She’ll recognize who’s on the other end. I’m willing to try. “Sure. I understand. I have what you need, and we can talk about how to fix it later, Dad.”

  “Thanks, Devin.”

  “Bye.”

  I snap the phone shut and slowly turn toward Skye. She’s not looking at me, and I wonder if she knows. If she does, she’s not saying a damned thing--never a good deal with Skye. It’s when she’s not talking you have to worry about what’s going on inside that head of hers.

  “So what’s the deal?” I ask. “It seems the better I know you, the more you’d trust me, but it never works that way with you, Skye. It’s like the closer I get, the more you shy away, and I don’t understand.” I reach out to take her hand and find it pancaked to her side.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she mutters.

  “Bullshit,” I snap. “Erecting walls might keep everyone else out, Skye, but it doesn’t work with me. You know you might as well answer because I’m not going anywhere, and your silences can’t make me. You know that as well as I do.”

  Her fingers stiffen against mine, but I keep my hand there, waiting. “Why don’t you just give up on me already?”

  So we’re back to that, are we? I think. “You already know the reason, even if you’re too scared to admit it. Why don’t you just stop fighting me and tell me what it is that makes you want to push me away?”

  A breath shudders through her, and I can tell I’m close to her weak point. She’s never been a good liar, and even when I push her toward that point, she would usually rather tell the truth, no matter how hard that gets. Lying reminds her of what happened after the rape.

  “I…can’t.”

  “You mean you won’t,” I gently correct and scoot closer to her. “I know you’re scared, and you think ten shades of bad are going to happen to you if you open up, but they won’t. I promise.” I slide my hand under her chin and gently lift. “Just tell me.”

  “You don’t get it,” she whispers and tries to pull away, but I refuse to let her go.

  “That’s because
you won’t tell me what ‘it’ is. How am I ever supposed to ‘get it’ when you won’t let me?” My shoulders and back are starting to tense with stress. I could kill her father for stirring things up again.

  “Devin, no matter what I do, you don’t get the hint. You shouldn’t be with me. Period.” She whirls toward the door and jerks on the handle. In her haste to get out, she almost falls. I start to grab her, but even as quickly as I do, she’s faster and more intent on escape. It’s not me she’s fleeing but whatever demons her father triggered once again.

  I, too, slide out of the Jeep and slam the door after as I rush towards Skye. I see the light blue shirt she wears as she heads into the cemetery proper. Her long hair flows behind her like dark kite ribbons, and she’s running like the devil is after her.

  So what does that say about me?

  “Skye, wait!” Unsettled, I run after her. Before I can even get to the gate, her body disappears beyond the tree line that borders the grounds, cutting everything off from view.

  A image of long ago and far away pops into my head of the one time Skye and I decided to play hide and seek here. As a seventh-grader, I’d thought it would be funny and creep Skye out. It was one of those stupid kid things; I’d thought maybe if the experience was like a horror film and scared the crap out of her, she’d draw closer to me and want me to protect her.

  I should have known better. Skye’d been more comfortable with the dead than the living and still was. Maybe it’s because whatever secrets the dead might have, they take with them, and there’s some kind of peace in that. The living are still struggling with their secrets, and even those we keep tend to take their toll.

  No, Skye’s probably just as happy to go in there now as then. It’s the one place nobody wants to ask her questions and nobody expects anything. She can just be.

  That’s when I stop running, to give her a few minutes to gather her emotions and try to calm down. There’s no point in cornering her. She’s just going to come out fighting. Always has, always will.

  I take my time walking through the cemetery, even though I no longer see Skye in front of me. There’s only one entrance, and I’ve just come that way, so I know she’s here, hiding. Shoving my keys into my pocket and amble down the path, I scan the rows of graves.