by Kahlen Aymes
“Oh, crap,” she muttered and turned back into her room, motioning with her hand for him to follow. It didn’t occur to her that it might seem inappropriate for Caleb to be in her room. It was Caleb. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Caleb watched her retreating back, his eyes roaming down her slender body, still clad in the pink leotard. “You didn’t sleep?” He moved hesitantly into the room, taking stock of the way the covers were pulled from one side of the bed onto the other, exposing the sheets. It was as if she had slept on top of her comforter, and the open doorway between her bedroom and the studio.
She went into the bathroom, intent on brushing her teeth and inwardly cringed at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess and there were dark smudges of mascara beneath her eyes. She picked up her toothbrush and squeezed toothpaste onto it, before turning on the water and shoving it underneath the stream. “I meant, the outfit. I couldn’t sleep so I danced for a while.” She pushed the brush into her mouth and began to clean her teeth.
“Oh, I can wait downstairs. I just thought we’d go to breakfast. I know you want to shop later, and then we have the visitation…” he hesitated briefly. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Wren bent over the sink and spit into it, wondering how Macy figured into the equation. “So talk.”
“Not here.”
“Okay. Just give me a few minutes.”
“When do you need to be back in New York?”
She rinsed her toothbrush and then used a glass to take a quick gulp of water and swished it around her mouth. She spit again, and then continued. “Not for two weeks, why?” Wren turned back toward Caleb and glanced around the edge of the bathroom door jam. “Do you need help with something? I can stay until the tour starts again, if you need me.”
If I need you, Caleb thought incredulously.
If only he could be completely honest with her about what he wanted and needed from her.
“Just get dressed and we’ll talk over breakfast.”
“Is Macy coming? I know she wanted to shop.” She said the words, but dreaded the answer.
“No. Just us.” He was wishing she’d been awake and ready to go. The last thing he wanted was Macy intruding on this time with Wren. He needed this conversation to get clarity on the best course of action.
“Okay. Let me just hop in the shower and throw on some clothes.”
“Sure. I’ll wait for you downstairs.” He turned to leave.
“Cale?”
Caleb stopped and turned back to her. She had turned on the water in the shower. He could hear it running, but she’d moved further into the bathroom. He could see her reflection in the mirror as she untied her skirt and let it fall. He froze, as she started to push the leotard off her shoulders, giving him a glimpse of the creamy skin of her back. His memory was filled with flashbacks of their one night together. How she felt, how she smelled and tasted. His dick twitched inside his jeans and his heart seized painfully. His hand rose to rub the back of his neck as he quickly turned away to give her some privacy, and to get a grip on his feelings.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t feel like spending hours shopping. Macy seems like she loves it, but I just need a couple of dresses. I mean; this is a funeral. This isn’t for fun.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’ll handle Macy.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll see you downstairs.” Caleb shut the door behind him and walked down stairs.
God. He still had it so bad for her. He knew he’d never feel for anyone, like he felt about Wren, but all of the time, distance, and lack of contact hadn’t changed one damn ache. Despite everything, and the conversation he knew he’d have to have with her about the two of them, after the decision was made. He wanted the will issue to be resolved and the funeral over and then he’d come clean on all of it. He’d have to if he ever expected to be in her life, and he wanted to. It was a burden his heart was tired of carrying. He owed her a lot of things; the least of all was the whole truth.
Heading to the kitchen to the smell of fresh brewed coffee, he knew he’d find Jonesy already at work. The old woman had her back to him, unloading the stainless steel dishwasher, and he didn’t want to startle her. She was softly humming to herself; a tune that Caleb didn’t recognize, and probably one she was making up as she went. He could see she was deep in thought.
“Good morning, Jonesy.”
She looked up, her hands full of drinking glasses that she was in the process of putting away. “Oh, morning, honey. Do you want breakfast? What can I make you?”
Caleb shook his head and went to get a coffee cup from the cupboard on the other side of the big kitchen. “Nothing. I’m taking Wren out for breakfast.”
Jonesy stopped for a split second and then continued in her task. “What about the other one?”
“She’s in bed.”
Jonesy’s eyebrows shot up. “Not invited, eh?”
He picked up the coffee pot and filled his cup with the steaming liquid. “No,” he answered simply.
“If you don’t mind my asking; I mean it’s none of my business, but why is that woman even here? It doesn’t seem to me like she has your heart.”
Caleb sighed and sat down at the table in the windowed alcove. “Never could fool you, Jonesy.”
She huffed and bent to retrieve more dishes to put away. “No. It’s about time you stopped fooling yourself, too,” she said matter-of-factly.
“I’m of the same conclusion; but it really depends on Wren.”
Jonesy nodded in agreement and continued her task.
“What do you think, Jonesy?”
The old woman stopped and looked at him, before getting a cup down and pouring herself some coffee. “I think Wren has always loved you. You’re her sun and moon, Caleb. I think it’s always been you and Wren. I’m not sure what happened a few years back to change that, but you can fix it.” She took a sip of the steaming liquid. “If that’s what you want.”
Caleb pressed his lips together, a new determination coming over him. Taking in her words, he hoped she was right. He could always count on Jonesy to be in his corner and to give it to him straight, even though she didn’t know all of the details. Fundamentally, Wren was still the same person, and so was he. One thing he was sure of, Wren knew him like no one else did, and he hoped that would be enough to mend the fences.
“Jonesy,” he began quietly; looking over his shoulder to make sure Wren wasn’t already coming to find him. “Has she said anything about what her life is like? Is she seeing anyone?” His heart tightened slightly as he waited for her answer; the feeling a reminder of his utter devastation when Wren had brought Sam to San Francisco and the consequences of that visit. Maybe she’d married Sam and just didn’t tell him. Surely his father had known the status of their relationship before he made the will. Hope bloomed inside of him. “Sam?”
Jonesy huffed, dismissively, looking at him over the rim of her coffee cup as she was about to take another swallow. Her eyes locked with his. “Now there’s a name I haven’t I haven’t heard for a while. Though I’m an old woman. I can’t remember everything.” She winked mischievously, setting her cup down to resume putting away the dishes. “Talk to her, honey. That’s all you can do. And, send that other one on her way.”
He inhaled deeply, wishing it were as simple as Jonesy made it sound. Macy had been supportive and they’d had some good times, and he didn’t want to be a complete dick. He couldn’t just send her packing. She’d want to get back to San Francisco soon after the funeral, and he fully expected her to leave Tuesday morning.
He turned in his chair as he heard a light flap of rubber soles crossed the marble floor behind him. The sound was soft; not the loud clacking of the high heels that Macy always wore, so he knew it had to be Wren. The house was big and sprawling, and the sound echoed through the main atrium at the foot of the stairs.
“Hey, Jonesy.” Wren’s voice was soft and musical, washing over Caleb and making him tingle as if
she touched him. Her cheeks were rosy, her face freshly washed but devoid of makeup other than mascara. Her blue eyes sparkled, the color brought out by the V-neck shirt she wore atop a pair of faded jeans. Caleb glanced down to find her feet in a pair of black Vans with the laces shoved inside so she could just slip them on. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, but several loose curling tendrils were loose, framing her face. She looked unpretentious. “I hurried. “
Caleb stood up and started to pick up his cup to put it in the sink, but Jonesy quickly took it from him, nodding toward the back door that led directly off the kitchen and into the garage. “Get out of here, you two.”
Caleb smiled gently, knowing Jonesy was helping them make a speedy exit before Macy made an appearance.
“Thanks Jonesy. Let Macy know we’ll be back in a bit.”
Caleb grabbed Wren’s hand and started toward the door. The warmth of his hand in hers sent a thrill running through her and Wren had to remind herself of Macy’s words the night before. He was taken and it was time she tamped down any ridiculous fantasies of Caleb. It was time she face the reality that he might only see her as a little sister. Everything in her screamed in defiance at the thought, but maybe he pretended their night together never happened because he was ashamed and couldn’t deal with it any other way. She sighed softly, telling herself that having him in her life, in any way, was better than not. The past two years had been hard, and a few stilted phone conversations were not how she wanted their future to be.
The garage was as pristine as the house. The floors all painted back and glossed with rosin; it seemed more like a showroom than a garage. There wasn’t one speck of grease or dirt on the floor, and the walls were covered in sheetrock and light grey paint. “I forgot how much this place was like a museum,” Caleb muttered, glancing from one expensive car to another. “Shit, there must be a million dollars worth of metal in here.”
Wren’s hand brushed the shiny red surface of a vintage Corvette. “It’s more like a collection. Can we even drive them?”
“Sure, we can, but I’m not really feeling it.”
The words welled up inside her before she could stop them. “Too bad you still don’t have your old Harley. That would be like old times.”
Caleb had an old beater that he and Dex had found beat up in a junkyard. It had been trashed in a wreck and needed a ton of work, including a new manifold. They worked on it for months and finally got it running. Caleb had saved up the money to replace all of the chrome and buy a new seat, and together with his best friend, it had been restored to almost perfect condition at Dex’s father’s shop.
“We can,” Caleb said with a smile. Happiness rushed through him at the thought of stepping back in time with Wren. He began walking to the far corner of the large garage, still holding her hand and pulling her with him toward it. His objective was parked along the wall covered in a painter’s tarp that he had bought to protect it. “I’m surprised Dad didn’t sell it or give it away.” He used his free left hand to pull the tarp off and let it drift to the ground. “It’s been a while, so it might not start.” Two helmets sat on the seat, as if waiting for Caleb’s return and he opened a long cabinet that was one of the built-ins that he used to keep his jackets and gloves in.
Wren gasped softly, surprised the cycle was even still in Denver, and even more surprised was that the cabinet still held one of Caleb’s old leather jackets.Knowing how much it meant to him, she’d assumed he’d taken the motorcycle with him to San Francisco. The vintage black cycle was just as she remembered it, the many times he’d taken her riding rushed through her mind.
Was it wrong to be this happy when someone you cared about just died? A small twinge of guilt nagged at Wren’s heart because she was just happy to have this time with Caleb. She pushed Macy’s words from the night before to the back of her mind as she reached out and took the helmet he handed her, watching as he removed the beat up jacket from the hook inside the cabinet. He looked at it for a split second then held it out for Wren. It was one he’d outgrown even before he left for MIT and one he’d let her use on several of their rides in the past.
“I don’t think anyone’s worn this, since you.” He laughed softly, joy all over his features as he pulled his old helmet onto his head and swung his leg to straddle it in one motion. He finished securing the strap under his chin and then turned the key. It was a good sign when the lights in the odometer panel lit up, and Caleb pulled the bike off of it’s kickstand and then kicked it back before flipping on the fuel pump. “Here goes nothin’,” he said as his left hand squeezed in the clutch and his right hand flipped the start switch.
The motorcycle came to life with a deafening roar in the enclosed garage. The bright white of his smile was almost dazzling and Wren was overjoyed to see happiness on his handsome face.
Wren secured the helmet on her head and quickly slid her arms into the sleeves of the jacket before she climbed on behind Caleb, sliding her hands around his waist. Her insides were a mass of excitement as the smell of his cologne assaulted her nostrils at the same time as the exhaust rose up in a stinky blue cloud from the bike’s tail pipe as he revved the engine three times.
“Hold on!” he instructed loudly.
The garage was massive and one of the doors opened as they approached. Wren knew from experience that once free of the massive garage, Caleb would gun the engine and they’d fly down the lane and out of the gated property. She couldn’t help but let out a small squeal as they started to speed away from the house, the wind rushing over her face, and causing the hair hanging from the bottom of her helmet to beat around her face madly. Her arms sneaked further around Caleb’s lean waist and she wrapped one hand around the other wrist. His body was solid and she longed to rest her cheek on his strong back. This was paradise. She laughed out loud, and held on tighter when he turned south and into the city.
Caleb hadn’t planned on the bike, but he was enjoying every second of having Wren wrapped around his body. He’d always loved the protectiveness that came over him whenever she was around, and he loved the physical contact between them. For years, he’d wanted her and couldn’t touch her, and the times they were on the bike were the only taste of if he’d had.
It was a beautiful morning and the air was a bit brisk. He wished he also had a jacket on, but to go back into the house would have meant taking a chance of Macy being awake. The warmth began to seep into him from where Wren was plastered up against his back, and he leaned into her a bit more.
The city was left behind as Caleb headed west and up into the front range of the Rocky Mountains on US-6. He didn’t care if Macy would be mad that he’d disappeared with Wren, he didn’t care that the wake was later in the day, he just felt free and as if the load of his pending responsibilities had been lifted for a brief time. On the back of his bike, riding up into the mountains and surrounded by the amazing scenery with Wren, it was like old times. The sky was a bright blue and the sun a vibrant yellow as it rose behind them, her slender body up against his, and her arms tight around his middle… nothing could be better.
Wren didn’t need to ask him where they were headed because she didn’t care, and she trusted him completely. One or two minor, okay major, betrayals couldn’t change the facts, though she did have some questions, but she refused to ruin the momentary perfection of the morning.
The wind on her face as they climbed into the mountains wasn’t something you got in New York City. The fresh scent of the Blue Spruce and pine trees that rose into the sky above the rocky walls that had been blasted out of the mountains to accommodate the highway, and sun that filtered through them and flittered across her face was amazing. And Caleb. None of this could be found in New York City.
After they’d been driving for about half an hour, Caleb’s stomach reminded him of their need for breakfast, so he pulled off into the small town of Golden. There was a small restaurant near The Colorado School of Mines that he liked. He’d explored the area plenty of times onc
e he and Dex rebuilt his bike since he’d wanted to attend and get his engineering degree there.
It would have been just thirty minutes from Wren, not thousands of miles, he thought sadly. His chest expanded in a sigh of regret as he parked the bike in front of Café 13, a small, but busy restaurant known for their amazing breakfast menu, and a place that he’d been once or twice before.
He hadn’t intended to go so far from town, but he’d enjoyed the drive and the company and before he knew it, they were in Golden. The shopping schedule might be a bit thrown off, but it was the last thing he cared about. This talk with Wren was imperative to making a clear decision.
The natural rock covered building was on the corner of Main Street with a simple blue sign that looked like it was hand-painted. There were a few people sitting at outside tables that were covered by red umbrellas that they passed on their way inside the restaurant. Wren pulled at the hair by her temples and forehead as they approached the door. “Helmet head. Literally.” She laughed.
Caleb smiled. “You look great.” He held open the door and ushered in front of him. The warm smell of bacon, maple syrup and coffee brewing permeated the air. The furnishings were simple, round wooden tables with painted black chairs.
A waitress, dressed in jeans and a red t-Shirt greeted them. “Good morning! Just seat yourselves anywhere you like!”
“Thanks.”
Caleb looked around the room. It was crowded and he found an empty table near the back by the kitchen that was a bit off from the others, pointing at it. “Is that table okay?” he asked.
Wren nodded. “Sure.” She preceded Caleb in the direction of the table in the corner.
Before they were even seated, the waitress was hovering behind them with menus. “Can I get you any coffee or orange juice?” She put the menus down on the table.
“I’ll just have some water,” Wren said with a slight smile. The woman was in her mid-twenties and it was obvious she thought Caleb was attractive by the way she was staring into his face. She huffed to herself. Typical, She thought. Some things never change.
