Dying to Remember (The Station #2)

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Dying to Remember (The Station #2) Page 9

by Trish Marie Dawson

"I bet. I'd go crazy. My parents are already annoying enough. It would not be cool if they walked around with a gun, too," she says with a smile. The two laugh for a moment longer, and then Cole copies Jess by stretching out on his seat, but being nearly a foot taller than her, he looks more cramped than comfortable.

  "I didn't know him," he says suddenly.

  "Who?"

  "Your ex - I didn't know him. But I guess everyone else did. I heard the memorial service is Friday and practically everyone I know will be there."

  "Your dad too?" Jess asks nervously.

  "Probably, are you going?"

  "No."

  "Why not?" he asks, while licking an invisible glob of syrup off his lower lip. Jess tries not to stare at the innocent gesture and peers down at her entwined hands instead.

  "I'm sure I'm not welcome there," she says after a long pause.

  Cole nods slowly, and then blurts out, "So let's do something."

  "What?" Jess looks up at him, bewildered.

  "Well, since everyone else will be going to the memorial, let's go do something," he registers the confused look on her face and raises his hands up as if to surrender. "I promise - just to hang out."

  Hang out. What do you say, Jess…ready to get out of your bubble for a little while?

  She stares hard at him, so hard that color begins creeping into his cheeks. But he doesn't break his gaze. "Sure. Why not? Beats staying at home watching T.V. all day, right?"

  "Exactly," he says with a smile.

  "What do you want to do?"

  "I'll give you my number and we'll chat about it later. Sound good?"

  She swaps phones with him, and watches as he enters his phone number into her contacts. When he hands it back to her his name looks foreign and a little…exciting.

  "Okay. So…Friday?" she asks as she moves to stand up from the bench, hearing the old vinyl crack in protest as she peels her legs off the seat.

  Cole also rises and sticks out his hand. When she shakes it formally with a slight giggle he nods, "Friday it is, madam."

  ***

  Friday morning it rains. Not the soft, drizzly sort of rain one might expect in summer but the kind that trembles the frame of every structure and not only shakes the leaves out of the trees but snaps the more delicate of branches. Instead of meeting Cole in town, she invites him to her place. Her parents were making an appearance at the memorial service, despite her plea otherwise.

  Jess jumps off the living room sofa when the doorbell rings, and standing on the stoop was a thoroughly drowned version of the boy she spoke to on the phone just an hour before.

  "Wow! You're soaked, where's your umbrella?" Jess almost has to yell to be heard over the force of the lashing wind. Rain water sprays past her, coating the entry way rug as Cole stumbles into the house, slamming the front door shut behind him.

  "Damn! It's like a hurricane out there, an umbrella wouldn't matter!" He laughs as Jess helps peel him out of his soaked jacket.

  "I'll get you a towel, hold on a second," she says as she leaves him dripping in the country-elegant foyer. When she returns, he's standing with his face a foot from one of the oak paneled walls, moving from one family photo to the next with interest. He jumps slightly when she drapes the towel around his shoulders. Cole is standing in his socks, having set his shoes by the front door.

  "Thanks," he says as he shakes the towel vigorously over his hair and down his arms. It wasn't going to do much.

  Jess sighs, "You're soaked. I'll get you something of my Dad's and we can toss your stuff in the dryer, okay?"

  Cole freezes momentarily at her words and it's obvious he's trying to hide a smirk. But Jess doesn't seem to catch it. She's too busy trying NOT to imagine Cole without his shirt on. I had already failed that task tremendously the moment he shrugged out of his wet jacket and stood with his shirt plastered to his skin…leaving nothing to the imagination.

  The Levy's had taken their live-in housekeeper with them as a driver. The more time I spend in Jess's home, the more furious her parents make me. She never has the entire house to herself, so in a way, I know she was grateful for the rainstorm and the opportunity to have a friend over without being under the watchful eyes of her judgmental mother.

  Rifling through her dad's drawers, she pulls out a pair of sweats and a long-sleeve thermal shirt, plus a clean pair of white socks. She'd never gone through her parents things before. Isabel was always home, even if her parents weren't. Though Jess knew Isabel would do almost anything for her, she would not lie for her. The woman was the most honest person she knew.

  As she pads softly back out of the room, she turns to look over her shoulder, glancing at the richly stained wooden bed that fills the large space with detachment. Her parents sleep in this room, they live here, but it didn't feel like home to her. The door makes a soft clicking sound when she pulled it closed behind her, much like the unintentional sound that escapes her mouth.

  ***

  "When did she move out?" Jess asks as she sips her hot chocolate from a mug the size of a mixing bowl.

  "I was nine. It's been awhile. I only see her every other Holiday or so," Cole replies.

  "That's sad."

  "Not really. She wasn't that great at being a mom. Just wasn't her thing."

  "How do you think that happens? I mean, my Mom…wow, is she a mess. How exactly do you become a crappy parent?" Jess peers at Cole over the rim of her mug.

  "Who knows? Maybe their moms were crappy too?"

  Jess laughs along with Cole, enjoying the sound of his voice as it fills the living room, booming upwards, expanding into the space between the wooden cathedral ceiling beams. He's draped lengthwise across the sofa directly across from her, wearing her dad's clothes. It's almost comical how comfortable he looks.

  "So, where were you going to take me today?" Jess asks as she sets her mug down on the narrow coffee table between them.

  He sips on his own drink and raises an eyebrow at her. "If I tell you that, it won't be a surprise for next time."

  "Oh," she says with a smile.

  "Anyway, this is better I think. More relaxing with the rain outside, and all."

  "I hate it here," she blurts out. Feeling embarrassed, she looks away from him, letting her gaze fall on the deck doors. The same doors she had come through the day Chris died and her mother walked away from her in exasperation.

  "It's not so bad. My whole house could fit in this one room," Cole says with a soft chuckle.

  "I don't know. A house this big just feels empty."

  "Empty," Cole says quietly, staring at her. The word had rolled off his tongue softly, and his penetrating gaze made her uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. Heat was radiating through her, even though she was desperately trying to force her thoughts away from Cole's soft spatter of chest hair that peeked through the top of her dad's shirt.

  Back at the Station I roll my eyes. The moment I saw him in the pancake house I knew he'd be a distraction. Let's just hope he's the good kind of distraction.

  As I pushed that thought into Jess's mind, Cole rises from his sofa and easily steps over the table, sitting with a heavy plop next to Jess's socked feet. This close I could see every line of his face, the clear color of his eyes and fullness of his lower lip.

  Alright fine. He's a gorgeous guy, I give you that. Just be careful, sweetie.

  Jess draws her knees up, tucking them into her chest, resting her chin on top. For a moment they just stare at each other, unsure of what to say, curious as to what the other is thinking. Eventually Cole smiles and nods outside, at the thunderstorm that pelts the rear windows of the house.

  "How long do you think it will go on like that?"

  "The storm?"

  "Yeah. Think it will let up by tomorrow?"

  Jess blinks at him, lost in his eyes. "I have no idea. Why?"

  "Because the more we talk, the more I really want you to see this place." Cole shifts so he's facing her.

  "You aren't planning on draggi
ng me out into the hills and burying me in the mud, are you?" Jess asks with a laugh.

  Her lungs allow the air to escape that she was holding in when he laughs back. He wipes at the corner of one eye before speaking, "Oh my god. No, it's nothing like that. I just…you seem like, what do they call it? A kindred spirit or some crap like that. I thought you might like this place I go to. That's all, I promise."

  "A kindred spirit? Do you wish you were adopted, also?"

  Cole runs his hand slowly through his hair. This time they both laugh and the sound fills the lower level of the house. It had been a long time, Jess thought, since anyone had managed to make their laughter echo through her home. I knew she wanted to get to know Cole better. But her thoughts were cloudy. Like I was stuck in murky water, unable to see clearly, but knowing that something was not far out of sight.

  You should probably check the dryer. You know, so he's not sitting on the sofa in your dad's clothes when they walk in the door.

  "Oh! Your stuff. Let me check. I'll be right back," Jess says as she jumps off the sofa and hurries out of the room.

  She pauses in front of the foyer mirror to look at her reflection. The moisture in the air had curled the short hairs around her face, like they used to look when she was a kid and they spent their summers at the beach. With a sigh, she swats at her bangs and walks away from the mirror feeling darker.

  Honey, you're beautiful.

  Her response wasn't what I wanted to hear, but I knew she felt it was true, "I wish I wasn't so damn ugly."

  ***

  After retrieving Cole's clothes, Jess waits in the foyer hallway while he changes in the bathroom. I drum my fingers impatiently somewhere as the two manage a painfully awkward conversation full of nothing but small talk before he leaves. As he moves toward the door, I can feel the hormones surging through Jess's body, no matter how hard she fights them; they were there. And Cole, based on his constant sideways glances and crooked smiles, is feeling something similar.

  "Tomorrow, then? If the rain stops?" she asks as Cole shoves his dry shirt into his wet jacket sleeve.

  "How about tomorrow - even if it's still raining?" His eyes light up when she nods and he waves at her from the open doorway before jogging off toward his used Jeep Cherokee.

  Jess watches him drive away and feels instantly sad that he's gone. For the first time since her tenth birthday, her house had felt alive. More like home, when Cole was there.

  Yeah. A cute boy with a great laugh tends to make us girls feel all gooey inside. But how about we deal with the last boy first, before moving on to another one?

  Jess closes the door and slumps against it, sliding down to the floor. The tears came fast and hard and within seconds, the front of her shirt is splattered with fat tear drops. She cries for Chris. She cries for the baby she would never meet. She cries for the parents that would never know how to love her. And she cries for herself. Because she's stuck and doesn't know what to do.

  We will make it through this. You aren't alone. Remember…you will never be alone.

  CHAPTER 11

  Jess tossed and turned all night. Even though the rain stopped sometime around midnight, the wind was still brutal; slamming into the wooden planks on the outside of the house with enough force to rattle the windows in their frames.

  It's perfect for me. I have plenty of time to fidget with her mind. A little tug here, and a shove there, and I have the next few days all planned out. That's if Cole Manning doesn't throw a wrench in it all and mess up my little plans for the weekend. The phone calls started from Chris's parents just shortly after the Levy's returned home from the memorial service. Thankfully Vincent the Attorney went with them to keep them in check, and according to Isabel's quick version of the day's events, Chris's parents were too grief-stricken to notice the Levy's hovering in the background. I seriously doubted, as did Jess, that they were even aware of their son's violent tendencies with girls. But even if they were, losing a child was not something any parent wanted to experience.

  When Cole shows up at the front door promptly at nine o'clock as previously arranged, Mrs. Levy is the one to let him in. Jess takes the stairs down two at a time, terrified of her mother spending even one minute alone with Cole. I don't blame her.

  "Mom, you're up early," she says out of breath when she reaches the foyer.

  "No earlier than usual, dear," Mother Dearest says back in a slightly exaggerated tone. "This boy seems to think you have a prearranged engagement, is that true?"

  Jess rolls her eyes at her mother's intentionally formal words. "Yeah, Mom. I'm getting out of the house for a bit, isn't that what you've been telling me to do all week?" Jess grabs her coat off the entryway rack and sends a scathing look in her mother's direction. There's no missing the pain in her eyes, even though it was fleeting. When she blinks, she's back to her cold self again.

  "Fine. Don't get sick. The last thing we need is a hospital stay, wouldn't that just be great?" she murmurs as she leaves them standing alone in the doorway.

  "Sorry. She's a bit uptight," Jess mumbles just under her breath as Cole closes the door behind them. The sun is struggling to peek around the clouds that fill the sky, letting in fantastic sprays of light every few seconds on the landscape in the distance.

  "Seriously? She wasn't that bad," Cole replies.

  When Jess cocks her head to the side and gives him a dour expression, he laughs. With an almost rehearsed move, he reaches up and tucks her hair behind her ear. "Okay fine. She's awful. The spawn of Satan. Is that better?"

  Jess giggles, but not because of his attempt to be funny. His fingers had barely grazed her temple for a second but she could still feel them burning into her skin. She was still giggling as they walked to his Jeep, and only stopped when Cole turns to look over his shoulder, a confused expression on his face.

  After she climbs into the vehicle, and Cole slams his own door shut, she takes in the sight of him while he fumbles with his keys in the ignition. He's wearing a pair of jeans, tight in all the right places and a long-sleeved cotton shirt that's scrunched up his forearms. Hair flops about his head in all directions as if he showered and tousled it with a towel before walking out of the house.

  I will Jess to look away from him before I created fantasies of him myself. He's a cute teen, would one day be a handsome man, and yes, there was something almost familiar about him. But I refuse to focus on him. He isn't my case.

  "Where are we going?" Jess asks as the engine finally roars to life.

  "Give me an hour…maybe a little more and I'll show you." He winks and it takes all my willpower to keep her from blushing.

  This is going to be a long, long day, isn't it?

  ***

  After driving north for almost an hour, and taking a series of back country roads to the west, we end up at a place I would never have dreamt possible; the Grand Canyon. The earth splits down the middle below our viewing spot, exposing an endless view of jagged red rock. Beautiful wouldn't even begin to describe the place.

  "I'm sure you've been up in these parts before. But this…this right here," Cole turns in a circle and gestures at the shrubby growth and crumbling rock around him, "…this is MY spot."

  Jess doesn't dare approach Cole. He stands just feet away from the drop off, looking down below them with a satisfied expression, his hands tucked into the pockets that sit perfectly on top of his butt cheeks.

  "I'm good over here, thanks," she says nervously, after he beckons her to join him with a curt nod. Cole laughs, and quickly leaves the dangerous ledge to join her where she waits close to the Jeep. He leans against the grill, putting an elbow onto the hood of the faded blue vehicle.

  "Like it?"

  "Oh yes. It's amazing. I see why this is your favorite place."

  "Yeah, I come here a lot."

  "By yourself?" Jess's question is a way to delve into Cole's dating life and he catches the subtle jab for personal information instantly.

  With a grin, he turns to face her
. "You're the first person I've brought up here."

  "Really? Why me?" As soon as the words leave Jess's mouth, she regrets them, but my curiosity is brimming to know the answer.

  Cole smiles warmly but something is missing in his eyes. Slowly he pushes himself off the Jeep and stands once again facing the epic view of the open land before us. With his arms crossed, and his head held high, he speaks quietly into the wind, "Because…before I met you, this is where I wanted to kill myself."

  ***

  Jess's tongue is stuck to the roof of her mouth. The dry air has sucked the moisture from her eyes but with Cole's words ringing in her ears they still find a way to fill with tears. She pulls her quivering lower lip into her mouth in an attempt to keep Cole from seeing that she was on the brink of crying for him. And not just for him. But because she understood now what he meant…they were kindred spirits indeed.

  When her hand touches his shoulder he flinches and doesn't turn to face her. So she stands beside him, watching the birds flying high above the canyon until her knees cramp from being locked in place. Eventually he looks at her with his cloud-like eyes from over his broad shoulder and smiles. They don't need to speak. She understands.

  ***

  The first time Jess had considered ending her life was the moment she left the abortion clinic. It was literally the second the sun touched her face. Instead of feeling warmth she felt hollow. What she had done would haunt her forever and even though in her heart she felt it was the right decision at the time, she would never truly forgive herself.

  It came in waves, her suicidal thoughts…more like challenges that she sets up for herself as she goes about her mundane daily routines. In the morning when she wakes up and first sees her reflection, she imagines what she'd look like in a coffin. At lunch she'll only partially chew her food, hoping that a chunk will lodge itself against the lining of her throat, stopping her breath. In the bath, while shaving her legs, she fantasizes about what the razor blade might feel like if she dragged it lengthwise against her skin.

 

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