I’m a little concerned about finding my next turn in the dark, so I begin to let off the accelerator in hopes I won’t fly right past it. A couple of minutes later I spot the trail Les described that spurs off Highway 70, and suddenly I know exactly where I am. It’s the old, long-closed fruit stand on the side of the road that tips me off and brings back memories of the beautiful, late summer day when Kyle brought me here the first time.
My heart rate triples when the big old barn comes into view – I haven’t seen it in years, unless you count the photos we have framed around our house. I pull up next to Les’s Ford Explorer and flinch when I notice Les is sitting in the front seat – alone. I climb out of my car, and he rolls down the passenger side window.
“Where’s Kyle?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Around here somewhere,” Les replies, a huge grin on his face. “Go find him – I’ll wait here.”
I turn around and notice a footpath has been laid with dozens of tiny white tea candles. Taking a deep breath, I follow the flickering lights around the side of the barn and try to ignore the fact my legs feel like they’re made of Jell-O.
I stop when I see Kyle standing with his back to me, staring up at the sky. I follow his gaze upward to the wash of fading color that rests against the horizon, soon to be extinguished altogether and replaced with millions of stars. The moon is already visible overhead, a glowing white orb that’s just shy of full.
When I glance at Kyle again, he’s looking back at me, a crooked smile on his lips. As he begins walking toward me, I remain rooted to the ground, never dropping my gaze from his smiling eyes.
“Remember this place?” he asks softly as soon as he’s near enough for me to hear him.
I can only nod, suddenly unable to find my voice.
“I’ve wanted to bring you back here for a while,” he admits. “I think about it a lot for some reason.” I watch him as he takes another step toward me, erasing the remaining distance between us. He takes my left hand in both of his and turns it over; I drop my gaze from his eyes to his fingers as he begins tracing lazy circles in my palm.
“I love you, Tawny,” he says, his voice deep and rough. Before I can string together the appropriate words to form a reply, he picks up my hand and lifts it to his lips, kissing my palm with his eyes closed. When he falls to one knee in front of me, I want to crash down on my knees beside him, mostly because I’m afraid my legs may give out on me if I stay standing. Somehow, though just barely, I manage to remain upright.
Kyle squeezes my hand but keeps his eyes trained on my face. “You may not believe this, but I think I’ve loved you in one way or another ever since high school. I know we had kind of a bumpy start, but honestly there isn’t a single thing I’d change about the last two years. Everything we’ve been through – all those things have made us who we are together. And we’re so great together, Tawny – I know you think so, too.” He pauses to take a breath, and I force myself to inhale at the same time – I feel like I haven’t really breathed since I stepped out of my car a few minutes ago.
“I don’t want to think about what my life would be like if you weren’t in it.” Everything about him – the set of his jaw, the crease in his forehead, the intensity of his gaze, the pressure of his hands around mine – it all radiates sincerity as he continues. “I don’t want to think about a future that doesn’t have you in it. I want – no, I need – to spend today and every day showing you what you mean to me. I want forever with you.” My breath catches in my throat as he drops one of his hands to reach into his pocket; a tear forms at the corner of my eye and trickles down my face to touch my lips.
Kyle uses his thumb to flip open the small velvet box in his hand, never looking away from me as he does. “Tawny,” he whispers, his voice only just audible. It takes a sizable amount of effort to pull my eyes away from the extremely distracting diamond winking at me from the box so I can look back at my love. When I finally do, one corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “Please marry me.”
Kyle – 8:30 PM
My heart is beating erratically, but I already feel like I’m on top of the world. Tawny’s legs fold, and she kneels down in front of me. I can’t tell if it’s because she feels the need to be closer or if she’s just incapable of continuing to stand, but when she throws her arms around my neck and tackles me to the ground, I no longer care which it is.
She covers me with kisses, which I do my best to return – it’s hard since I’m smiling so big. As she repeatedly touches her lips to the stubbled skin of my face and throat, she says the same word over and over again – “yes.”
I fall back on my ass and straighten my legs in front of me, allowing Tawny to straddle me. I wind my arms around her waist and clutch her against me, but I’m unable to get her close enough – suddenly I find myself wishing for a repeat performance of our first time in this spot.
A minute later, someone clears their throat, and Tawny and I both jump. “I take it she said yes?” says Les from a few yards away.
I look at Tawny, who’s unable to hold back her radiant smile despite the interruption. Looking back at Les I reply, “I think it’s a hell yes.”
He laughs. “Well then, I’m glad I get to be the first to say congratulations. Sorry to burst your bubble, though – we have a surprise party to get to. You can finish your business later – in a bed.”
I wince as Tawny turns to look at me – she turns her head so quickly I’m afraid she may have whiplash. “You knew?!” she yells, lightly slapping my shoulder.
I chuckle and pin her arms to her sides as I cinch my arms tighter around her waist to keep her from hitting me anymore. “I’ll still act surprised, I swear.” I can tell she’s trying not to frown, but her chin is quivering from the effort of wiping the smile from her face. I laugh against her lips as I steal one more kiss. “I’m sorry, babe – I’m a jerk.”
“Give me that,” Tawny says as she wrestles free of my grasp and reaches for the box with the ring still tucked inside – in our passionate groping I’d forgotten to actually put it on her finger. She plucks the ring from the box and slides it on her own finger, then holds out her hand to admire it. It looks astonishing on her, just like I knew it would.
“There,” she says softly. “Now at least you’re my jerk.”
The End.
Acknowledgements
Thank you, thank you, thank you to Martina Holder, Mallory Hoy, Megan Diffenbaugh and Lisa Niedergeses for making time in your crammed schedules to read my book and offer your invaluable feedback. I am also forever indebted to Yesi with Literati Book Reviews for her honest and informative feedback, her promotion of my book, and for helping me navigate the formidable world of social media!
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Keep reading for a sneak peek of
Wayfarers
Coming Fall 2013!
Chapter 1
Kenna
THE PHONE RINGS only twice before Taryn answers. Other voices hum in the background. I reach across my desk to turn down the volume on NPR’s Talk of the Nation before responding. “Hello yourself. Are you busy?”
“Not busy,” she replies. “Just leaving book club.” My eyes flit to the clock on my computer: 7:36 Pacific Time means it’s already 10:36 back east. Surprising: Taryn is typically a pretty strict adherent of the “early to bed, early to rise” principle.
The rustle of cloth must mean she’s pulling on her jacket. “Bye, ladies! Email me when you decide on next month’s pick.” A bevy of women chip in their goodbyes, and a moment later I can hear the beep of Taryn’s car doors unlocking.
“What book were you discussing?” I ask, easing back in my desk chair.
“Life of Pi. It was okay – kinda boring. Of course, God help the person who admits such blasphemy out loud in front of Nellie Patterson. I thought she was going to break down and start crying right the
re in the middle of the living room the second the word ‘tedious’ escaped my lips.”
I smile to myself, knowing well the pros and cons to Taryn’s unfailing honesty. Her dedication to “being real” is a big part of the reason I keep in contact with her, even after having fallen out of touch with everyone else from my hometown of Brevard, North Carolina.
“Anyway,” she says, “I’m all yours. And please don’t tell me you’re still at work.”
I whimper in shame, dropping my forehead into my hands.
“Kenna Aldridge!” scolds Taryn.
“I know, I’m embarrassed. I can’t help it, though – today was completely chaotic, and I still have three gents to dose.”
She clucks her tongue. “Sounds risqué.”
I laugh humorlessly. “I wish. Gentamicin – it’s an antibiotic. One of my coworkers called in sick today, so I’m carrying the kinetics pager. Our census is up, and I swear forty percent of the people in this hospital must have endocarditis.”
“Are you even speaking English right now?”
This time my laugh is genuine. “Sorry. Boring, I know.”
Suddenly a large droplet of water plummets from the soggy drop ceiling above my desk and spatters on the neat stack of papers before me. My eyes narrow in frustration as I lift my gaze to eye that damn leak I called maintenance about five days ago. Why the hell haven’t they been here to fix it yet? I already set a cup on my desk to catch the worst of it, which is bad enough considering I have to empty it twice a day, but now the leak has spread.
“It’s not boring, Kenna,” says Taryn. I can hear an engine roaring to life as she starts her car. “I just wonder when it’s gonna hit you that you’re too smart for me.”
“Yeah you’re right, you’re pretty dumb,” I say, only because we both know it’s far from true. Taryn was salutatorian of our high school class. She may not have gone on to an Ivy League education or grad school, but she does successfully manage volunteer services for a sprawling hospital system.
She laughs gleefully, which brings a smile to my face. “Oh my God, Kenna, so you’ll never guess who I saw today.”
“Somebody famous?” I ask, using my finger to swipe away the water from my desk as yet another drop falls. This time it finds the framed picture of my dad Ralph and me I keep angled at the corner of my desk. I was eight or nine years old when the photo was taken; in it, we’re sitting on the back of a tractor holding pumpkins.
“In Asheville?” says Taryn. “Please.”
“Who was it then?”
She seems to be holding her breath, which makes me slightly nervous. “Jeff Lennox.” The name tumbles out on an exhale. My heart squeezes painfully as my eyelids flutter shut.
“Jeff. Wow.” It’s a name I’ve barely dared to think, let alone utter, in the past four years – ever since around the time we stopped talking completely.
“I know, right? I guess he’s training to be one of the air ambulance pilots – you know those helicopters?” I nod, even though I know Taryn can’t see me. Learning to fly was a lifelong goal of Jeff’s even back when I knew him. I’m glad to hear he’s pursuing his dream.
“I bumped into him in the cafeteria today, and we got to talking,” says Taryn. “He’s lookin’ foxy, too, I must say. I’d be tempted to zero in for the kill if it wasn’t for Raj.”
I let slip a feeble chuckle, suddenly feeling a bit faint. Leaning back in my chair, I use my free hand to grip the edge of my desk for support. “How is he?”
“Seems to be doing pretty good. Still living in Brevard, I guess – which means he has one hell of a commute.” I think of the thickly forested land his dad owns (owned?) on the eastern edge of Transylvania County and his promise when we were younger to build Jeff a house on it one day. Then I think fleetingly of Jeff promising it would become our house if and when I ever agreed to marry him. Tears sting the backs of my eyes as I tuck the memory firmly away.
“He’s still single,” Taryn goes on, oblivious to my anguish. She lets her voice trail off, as if she’s testing me for some type of reaction. My lips press into a thin line as I hold in a breath.
I take a moment to collect myself before I reply. “Only you would get down to relationship status in a matter of – what? Minutes? Just how long was this chat, anyway?”
“About ten minutes. Enough time to find out he’s still got it bad for you.”
My pulse quickens, and I lean into my forearms, bracing myself. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I told him we still talk, and he got this far-off look in his eyes – similar to the one in your eyes now, I suspect. He wanted to know all about how you’re doing…who you’re doing.”
I snort. “Right.”
“Okay, maybe not that last part – but he certainly was interested in the rest of it. He said to tell you hi.”
The seconds tick by as I puzzle out an appropriate response. I hadn’t expected to be blindsided by news of my oldest and dearest friend. The shock of it has left me reeling.
“What happened between you two, anyway?” Taryn asks gently. “We’ve never really talked about it before.”
“I don’t know,” I reply truthfully as I push out a sigh. “I needed to get away from it all, you know? That’s why I came out here to Washington for pharmacy school. He said he understood and promised to come visit, but he never did. We kept in touch for another year or so, but then we just…stopped. He moved on with his life, and I moved on with mine. Tried to, anyway.”
“Well. Judging from the look on his face, I’d say he hasn’t completely moved on. Put it this way – if you ever decide to come back for a visit, I don’t think he’d mind if you looked him up.”
I smile weakly as my vision swims out of focus. I know she’s trying to sound encouraging, but our conversation has only left me feeling hollow inside. This familiar emptiness is the exact reason I apply myself with such determination to not dredging up the past.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I clear my throat. “Thanks for the update. I really should get some work done so I can get out of here.”
“Okay,” Taryn says quietly. “Listen, I’m sorry if I upset you, Kenna. I thought you’d wanna know.”
“Of course I did!” I say, brushing her off. “I’m glad to hear he’s doing well.” Now it’s my turn to sound artificially chipper. “Have a good night, okay? Tell Raj I said hello.”
I toss the phone aside after hanging up and drum my fingers anxiously against the scratched surface of my desk. In need of a distraction, I scoop up my calculator and pager and set to work tabulating dosages.
Forty-five minutes later, I’m hitting send on an email to my boss, Elaine, when my phone alerts me to a text message from Ralph.
I love you more than life itself, Kenna. I hope you know that.
I hold the phone in my hands for half a minute before responding. Clearly he’s in one of his moods where he feels the need to expound his affection. I know the drill – next he’ll be reminding me I’m all he has to live for.
I do know
Want to come over? I don’t think I should be alone tonight.
There’s no sugarcoating it this evening, I see. He must really be feeling shitty. Sighing, I cast a longing glance at the photo of the two of us, now smeared with water. Ralph has always battled alternating episodes of depression and mania, but that particular year he’d had more good days than bad. I remember the day we went to the pumpkin patch as being particularly carefree. It’s one of the few days from my childhood I can look back on with genuine fondness.
Give me 20
Spending the night coddling my father seems far from appealing, especially after the kind of day I’ve had, but it’s what I’ve always done. His codependency might seem more troubling if I wasn’t so used to it.
I straighten and paperclip a stack of papers on my desk, then walk around my desk to shrug off my white coat and hang it on the hook behind the door. Seeing I left my keys lying next to my computer monitor, I lean across the des
k to reach for them – and feel yet another drop of water land on the back of my head.
“Goddammit,” I mutter under my breath as my hand goes to the wet spot in my hair. I snatch my phone off its cradle and dial zero for directory assistance, then ask to be put through to the maintenance department. The phone rings several times before the answering system clicks on.
“This is Kenna Aldridge in the pharmacy,” I snap, barely managing to keep a leash on the full magnitude of my frustration. “I called five days ago to complain about a leak in my office, 103, and it still has not been fixed. I cannot work like this. Get somebody here to fix it.” Thinking that may have sounded harsh, I add a perfunctory “please” before slamming the phone back down.
My irritation is joined almost immediately by a sense of remorse as I walk out and lock my office door behind me. Sometimes I really wish I had a better handle on the monster inside of me. Unfortunately, my hectic day followed by news of Jeff and the text message from Ralph have weakened my defenses. Much as I hate to admit the truth of it, lashing out like a raging bitch has always been my primary coping mechanism.
I take time to revel in the cool evening air on the short walk to my car. The heat has been constant and unrelenting these past couple of weeks, since the official start of summer. I can only imagine what grueling temperatures lie in store for us during the months ahead.
Ralph’s one bedroom bungalow is dark and quiet when I pull into the gravel drive twenty minutes later. He’s curled in the middle of the living room floor, clutching at the roots of his hair. He’s so still that, for a split second, my heart beats more swiftly with fear. When he shifts, I remind myself to breathe.
“Come on, Pops,” I say quietly as I crouch beside him. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Forever With You (Silver State Series) Page 32
