by Julie Reece
This just gets better.
“Awkward, thy name is Caden.”
I glare at my brother, and his very big mouth. “Piper, Mom, this is Autumn, our ill, probably super-contagious, summer intern.”
Her gaze drifts up. She lifts a hand in a weak, random wave.
“Yeeeah … ” I say. “Why don’t we all talk downstairs?” Yes? Good. “Give me just a minute, and I’ll join you all downstairs.”
“Fine idea, son.” Mom’s gaze quickly scans Autumn’s appearance, and those sharp eyes don’t miss a trick. “I’m sorry you’re unwell, Ms. Teslow, but it’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Thanks, you, too.” Autumn watches everyone shuffle down the staircase. Time passes too slowly and ridiculously fast all at once until the footsteps fade.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Oh, super.” Her fingers press her forehead. “As introductions go, I’d give that a ten. You?”
I can’t imagine what she’s feeling. I want to smile, encourage her somehow, but nothing I think to do seems enough. She slips into the bathroom and turns. Our eyes meet through the narrowing crack in the door. I mentally send what apology I can through my gaze. Hers doesn’t accuse. There’s no angry glare. What I see hurts far more, because all those hazel orbs seem to relay is defeat.
23
Autumn
Washing a night of sweat, smoke, and sick off me was badly needed. It’s a miracle I didn’t puke. At least, I don’t think I did. My head pounds, my eyes won’t adjust to morning, and my chest feels like an elephant’s sitting on it.
My forehead presses against the slick tile as I try to reorder last night’s events in my mind. What have I learned? One. Cold meds plus alcohol makes a very stupid Autumn. Let’s never do that again. Check. Two. At some point, Caden, who I’ve sworn to hate for all time, brought me to the big house, put me in a bed, and slept in it with me. Though I don’t remember the sleeping part, and half of me is a little sad that I don’t, I sure as hell remember the waking up part. Solid muscle under my cheek felt like concrete warmed by the sun. I fully admit to the shower stall that Caden’s arm curled around my waist this morning felt like a simple kind of blessing. So possessive and protective, he made me safe in a way I’d never known.
So much for hating him for all time. What a joke. The truth is I like him more than I’d ever dreamed possible. I say “like” because the other word threatening at the jagged edges of my heart is too impossible to fathom. He lied to me. Been there, done that with liars. Not that the boy is making any offers, but the way he held me, cared for me last night, goes beyond what a supervisor would do. Hell, my family wouldn’t do that much for me. What the heck was he thinking?
Once I’m dry, I tug on a pair of jean shorts and my comfy, turquoise blouse. Jesse must have brought them up here for me, along with my toiletry bag, God love her. My hair goes into a standard braid, and I toss my crocheted hat on. In my temporary room, I down the next dose of cold meds to deal with my cotton-stuffed head, and start straightening. First, I make my bed. Next, I gather all the snotty tissues that I’d thrown on the floor during the night, pick up my dirty clothes, and put my make-up away. Halfway through my sprucing blitzkrieg, it dawns on me that I’m cleaning. Sure, I’m being a coward of epic proportions and doing whatever I can to avoid the people downstairs, but still, it’s surprisingly cool, this feeling of doing something to repay my hosts for their hospitality.
With everything tidy, do I face my fears, go downstairs, and greet Caden’s mother and ex-girlfriend—whom I’d met earlier while still in my pajamas? Hell, no I don’t. I call Sydney. “Hey.”
“What is it, Autumn? Running errands for A-holes who don’t know their Gucci from their Prada is a full time job, you know?”
“I’m sure it is.” She doesn’t disagree. “Listen, I just wanted to double check on the address you sent the dress to.” I expected the package by the time I got back from camping. Unless Sydney comes through, I’ll be wearing tie-dye and hiking boots to crown Miss Moo. Maybe Jesse has a dress I can borrow. Not that it would fit my pixie-sized body, but anything beats wearing gypsy hobo to a formal dance.
“Isn’t it there yet?” Her giggle works my last nerve. Sydney cups the phone, but I hear her answer, “I appreciate the offer, Tyler, but I’m not going out with you, no matter how deep the discount.”
Ignoring this, I push my agenda, “Syd, I’ll let you go, but can you text me the tracking number?” A shoppe bell rings on her end, along with the murmur of customers in the background. A deeper, male laugh joins hers. My temper, already on a short leash, breaks free. “Syd! I’m sick. I just found out Silas is actually Caden and a big fat liar. My dress isn’t here, and I want my check so I can go home.” My yelling dissolves into a fit of coughing.
“I’m sorry, what did you say about Silas? I can’t keep all of your rednecks straight.”
“Focus, Sydney. The dress. Are you helping me with that or not?”
“Yes, just relax. Dad said you may leave early, anyway. I think he’s frustrated with your progress there.”
“My progress? I don’t understand. I haven’t even talked to Dad.”
“Whatever, call and ask him. I’ll check on the dress, but I gotta run. Oh, and your voice sounds funny. I think you might be coming down with something. Ta!”
“Sydney!” The phone clicks off, and I’m left blinking at a dead receiver. She’s got to be wrong about Dad wanting to bring me home. All he’s wanted was for me to finish something. Get focused.
All this craziness has my head near exploding. I need to get out for a while.
Cases of product are waiting in the storage shed for labels and packaging. Camping put me three days behind in prep work for the farmer’s market stock. It’s cool and quiet out there. I can be productive and nurse my wounds in private.
One look at the dainty little Kleenex box in my room, and I know it’s no match for the volume of fluid leaving my face. I stuff a whole roll of toilet paper under my shirt to deal with my nose, grab more cold medicine, and slip into my shoes.
When I step into the hall, I don’t hear anyone and pray they’ve all gone out. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and a more in-depth conversation with Caden’s mother can be postponed. My hopes crash land as I near the bottom step. Several muted voices carry from the great room on the first floor. There are two exits from my location, and neither is accessible without my being seen.
For a moment, I consider heading back to my room, but inventory isn’t done for our booth at the Moo farmer’s market sidewalk sale, and despite everything that’s happened, it matters to me that I finish.
Besides, I can’t hide upstairs forever. I’ll just slip past the family interrogation as quietly as possible and disappear out the back door. I’m halfway past the kitchen island, visible through the opening that connects kitchen and great room. Someone’s pacing over an area rug in the adjoining room that muffles their footfalls. Of course I’m curious, but don’t dare glance over for fear of making eye contact with anyone. I move with purpose, just a few more feet and I’m gone.
“For crying out loud, Mom, it’s not like I slept with her!”
Despite my previous vow, my head jerks up.
Caden stands frozen in the center of the room. His mother, Jesse, and brothers sit in various chairs facing him. I don’t see Piper anywhere, but I don’t break my neck looking either. The scene, not unlike a Spanish inquisition, is rife with accusation and nervous tension. I’m sympathetic, until I remember Caden lied to me and we’re not on the same team anymore.
I stand there, mute as a bunny. I shut my open mouth, then open it again to say, “Sorry. I’m headed … ” I wave vaguely toward the door with the hand not clutching T.P. through my shirt. “Out.”
“Autumn, don’t. Please wait. I want to talk to you.”
Caden’s please attempts to soothe my damaged heart, invites me to listen, but his mother’s starring. Not at me this time, at him. She looks startled at first, t
hen suspicious. I don’t know why. I’m not staying to find out.
“Got to check on something outside.” My throat’s raw, voice too hoarse to say more. As my face heats to one hundred degrees Celsius, my feet only move faster.
I’m across the meadow and into the storage shed in record time. Who knows what I pictured, meeting Mrs. Behr for the first time, not this morning’s nightmare, that’s for sure. She owns and runs a successful business, and she’s the mother of this cool, close family. I wanted to impress her based on the work I’ve done so far. Hoped she’d meet and like me without any preconceived ideas.
It’s not like I thought she’d hug me, or ask if I’d be the daughter she never had. She has Jesse and Piper for that. But how much does it suck that I’m now the germ-infested intern she found in bed with her son?
I know my airway wouldn’t feel so constricted if I hadn’t hoped for something more between me and Caden. If I hadn’t verbally attacked him on that first day, hadn’t provoked him to retaliate, and we had just … met. What might have happened? Would we have fought anyway, or would we have had a chance?
At every turn, memory recalls his flashing blue eyes and mischievous smile. I imagine his hands on my waist, his scruff against my forehead. Wishing for a relationship with a boy who sees me as an opportunity is just sad. Attraction alone means nothing. Just ask Alex.
Since daydreams get me exactly nowhere, I redirect my thoughts. Sitting like a lump, I cover bottles with labels until my tailbone is numb and my back aches. Another string of sneezes has me fishing a last dose of cold meds from my pocket. I swallow the pills dry, having bolted without a water bottle. The toilet paper is almost gone, and with no clue how many hours I’ve been out here, my sore muscles hint it’s been all day.
The door creaks. I jump, then stiffen, thinking its Caden. When I glance up, a tall silhouette stands in the doorway, blocking the light.
Piper.
“How’s it going?” she asks, voice whisper-soft. As she steps into the room, I see her sans the chemically-induced blur of my cold medicine and early morning confusion. Flying into a jealous rage and clawing her eyes out isn’t really my style. In fact, what I really want to do is offer her a cheeseburger. A strong wind would knock her down. Her whole being seems partially erased, like a photo left in the sun. Her hair is the color of wheat, the blue of her eyes clear and pale as an August sky. There’s a smattering of gold freckles dusting her nose. Everything about her strikes me as whitewashed, more ghost than girl. Though maybe not in a classic sense, I think she’s beautiful. “I’m Piper.”
“I know who you are.”
She wanders around, finally taking a seat on a wooden crate. In the past, knowing she’s the “chosen one” in Mrs. Behr’s pre-arranged marriage pact with Piper’s dead mother would make me predetermined to dislike the girl. Today, I reserve opinions. I don’t know her.
“I wondered if we could talk,” she says.
I can’t imagine what we’d have to talk about, but—“Okay.” I slap another label on a bar of honey oatmeal soap, and break into a cough.
“Do you like it here? The job? The farm?”
“It’s swell,” I croak, keeping my eyes focused on my task. “You should know there’s nothing going on between me and Caden. If that’s why you’re here.”
“You mean you didn’t sleep with him?” She casually attaches a lotion label to the bottle in her hand, as if she just stated her mild dislike for green beans. “I know. Caden told me. But there’s definitely something going on.”
I don’t like being told what I mean, but I hesitate, curious where she’s going with this.
“I’d like to explain something to you, if you’ll let me.” Her tone firms, making my permission a formality. The girl may be delicate, but there’s no stupid in there. I wait, because I sure as hell am not offering any information.
“Caden’s been my friend since we were little. I’ve been in love with him forever, I guess, but I didn’t know it until I got older. My mom was the one who urged me to tell him how I felt.”
“Listen” I say, with growing alarm she’s working up to an emotional purge. “You really don’t—”
“So, I did. And we started dating.” She picks up another bottle from the table top. “Once we were together, I knew Caden didn’t feel as strongly as I did. I figured if I was patient, that would change.”
I lower the soap in my hand to my knee, and continue listening as Piper tells me “their story.” But only because I’ve sworn off homicide, and I’m too sick to outrun her.
“Last spring, we went climbing up in north Georgia. Caden had been more distant, and I sensed him pulling away. Instead of giving him space, I panicked and smothered him.”
“There’s no need to explain,” I say, in an effort to stop the bleeding. “You’ve misunderstood. I’m just an employee, gone in a couple of weeks. You’re golden, sister.”
“If you were just an employee, I wouldn’t bother talking to you. And I need you to understand.”
She couldn’t be more earnest, and I slump in resignation.
“So, anyways, here’s the thing. Caden was my first boyfriend. I was insecure and clingy and immature, and basically, became that red-headed girl in How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days. Caden and me fought the day we went climbing. I said things I shouldn’t have. We’re experienced climbers, but we were both upset and made stupid mistakes, and I fell.”
Familiar with the story from talking with Caden, what I can’t figure out is why she’s telling me. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Everyone was scared, including me. Caden and my friends took turns carrying me out of the canyon to meet the EMT. Five miles on foot.”
“I can’t imagine,” I say, because I can’t. “I’m sorry, Piper.”
“I appreciate that.” She sweeps the hair from the left side of her face. I’m unsuccessful at hiding my widening eyes. A crescent-shaped scar runs through her eyebrow to below her cheekbone. The gash is still pink. I’m guessing she’s had some reconstruction work done, but she’ll probably keep some visible reminder all of her life. “My accident was a lot for him to deal with since his dad fell, too. It’s been … hard.” She lets her hair swing back into place. “Caden needs more time.”
“Time for what?” I hear myself ask.
“To get honest, I guess, and stop avoiding. Caden blames himself for all these things he didn’t do, but refuses to own the stuff that is his fault. That’s what we fought about the day of my accident.” She turns the bottle she’s holding over in her hand. “He’s been like this since his dad died. Restless and jumping at anything new, so he won’t have to deal. Lately, that’s you. You keep him from the stability he needs.”
“Meaning you?”
“Yes.” Her raised chin conveys a confidence her small voice belies. I have to hand it to the girl. It takes some sack to come in here and give this speech. “He needs me. You don’t know him. Not really. You’re like a new iPhone, in six months there’ll be another one.”
I’m a … what am I? I’m this close to knocking little Miss Sugar and Spice to the floor. There are several things I’d like to say, but they all come out as coughing.
“If you care about him, then do what’s best for him.” She sets her bottle down on the table, label free. “He’s been hurting for a long time. I can help him. If you don’t really love him, maybe even if you do, I’m asking you to finish your work here and walk away.”
I sit on the cool concrete floor, watching Piper rise and exit. Her retreat is the picture of collected tranquility. A shudder wracks my frame, though, whether from fever or Piper’s little visit, I don’t know. She said she talked to Caden. I can’t help wondering what he said that prompted this speech.
Muscles cramping, I stand and stretch. Outside the open storage door, deepening shadows suggest night is coming. My knees are weirdly shaky, and it occurs to me I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday. As I box up the few remaining bottles, the sheen of sweat covering
my body dries and I shiver again. Fever’s up again for sure.
The chores are done, yet, everything is so completely effed up, I don’t know if it matters. How will I face the Behrs tonight, Moo in a week?
I march my exhausted legs back through the house and upstairs to the room they’ve loaned me. My pride wants to pack up and head for the shed, but I’m just too worn out. My clothes are damp. I peel the layers off before rinsing in the shower. Teeth brushed, wet hair combed, I put on my ugliest, most comfortable jammies—the ones covered in Despicable Me minions—and make my way to the bed.
Just as I’m drowning in a sea of overstuffed down pillows that probably set the Behr family back several hundred dollars, there’s a firm knock on the door.
Get lost! “Come in,” I say.
“Autumn?”
I crack an eye open and find Caden’s mother peeking in the doorway. When I bolt upright, my head spins. “Mrs. Behr, come in.”
The woman I saw only briefly this morning is dressed in dark jean cut-offs and a yellow Hurley T-shirt. She looks more California beach bum than businesswoman. She has dark eyes, granted it’s hard to see in this light, but her skin and chestnut hair make her Caden’s mom for sure.
“I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“No, you’re fine. I wasn’t asleep.” I switch on the bedside light.
“I can see you’re still under the weather. Do you need anything?”
Poison, a rope to hang myself with … I shake my head.
“Piper informs me you were in the warehouse all day.” She slips into the rocking chair in the corner of my room.
“Yeah, I needed to get some stuff done for Jess and Moo. Sort of promised.”
“She tells me you are a very hard worker.”
“I’ve tried to be.”
“Well, we certainly don’t expect our employees to work when they’re ill. You may wind up with pneumonia. But I might well have done the same in your shoes … taken myself away somewhere. And it didn’t hurt that the job was in the warehouse, far from the discussions happening in here earlier. Am I right?”
