“Of course you do.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
She touched his forearm. “What about tomorrow?” For a brief moment, she’d seen the guy she fell in love with.
“I’m good. Really, Journey. You should go to her.” He stepped forward, brushed a soft, lingering kiss on her cheek. “It was good to see you,” he whispered before walking away.
Journey stood frozen, feeling as if they’d both been rejected somehow. She’d been doing so well. Painting. Healing, she’d thought. Today’s interaction was like taking four steps backward. For as much as that man infuriated her, she still loved him. Probably always would.
Sighing, she walked toward the bench and sat. She took her grandma’s frail hand and for the first time in weeks, she squeezed back. They watched the garden in silence until a barely audible sound began to come from her grandma’s throat, as if she were testing it out. As the melody grew louder, Journey gasped. “You remember?”
But her grandma didn’t speak; she just continued to hum the words to Journey’s favorite lullaby.
She laid her head on her grandma’s shoulder. “I started painting again,” she admitted, expecting no response. “It’s weird. I thought my hands would forget, but they didn’t. It’s like they move on their own volition now, and I’m simply caught up in the intensity of it all.”
The humming continued, soothing her, pushing her to admit her secret.
“I entered a piece for the art festival. It’s not even finished, and yet I still submitted the thing.” Journey chuckled at the absurdity of her decision. She’d never let anyone but April or Ty see her paintings, but somehow, this one, this perfect one she couldn’t seem to control, felt like an anthem. Maybe hers, maybe Ty’s, maybe it was just a cry for that time in her life when she felt safe. But she’d known it had to be seen. Their story had to be told.
“It’s about time.”
The clarity in her voice was startling, even though she’d heard it most her life. “Nana?” Journey lifted her head and met old eyes, an old soul, and one who had the beauty of recognition.
“Sorry it’s been so long, my beautiful girl,” she said, tucking a piece of Journey’s hair behind her ear.
Journey wanted to belt out all the thoughts and questions she’d kept buried for a month waiting for her grandma to return. Instead, she simply placed a hand on her wrinkled cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
Her grandma smiled, eyes crinkled and bright. “I’ve missed you, too.”
Victoria remained lucid for two days, each one a blessing that Journey soaked up to the fullest, knowing her mind could retreat at any moment. Eager to have a whole Saturday with her, Journey bounced up Yellowtree’s steps with extra zeal.
Humming the same tune that had been in her head for days, she scurried to the nurses’ desk and signed her name on the visitor’s log, barely glancing at the paper.
“Morning Carrie,” she called to her grandmother’s nurse, who seemed lost in whatever she was typing on the computer.
The lady’s head snapped up. “Oh Journey. I’m so sorry. I meant to call you.”
“Call me? Why?” But Journey didn’t need Carrie’s response. She could see the sympathy plastered on her face. “Oh…can I still go see her?”
“She’s very confused, but calm. I think it may be best if you give her a day to settle back in.”
Journey swallowed. “Sure. Yeah. I understand.” The last thing she wanted was to spur on an outburst of aggression. With a strike of the pen, she crossed her name off the log and said goodbye.
The entry doors mocked her as she exited. It was a beautiful spring day, sun shining, big fluffy clouds, but Journey felt as if the world had been blurred by gray. She wondered what it would look like on canvas. Shadows, she decided, ones pushing and pulling against the sky in a tug of war. A dreary thought, but seeing colors in her head was also a blessing she’d never take for granted again.
She refocused on the sidewalk, halting for a man who stood with his back to her, cell phone pressed close to his ear. “I told you I’ll get it,” he hissed. “It’s just taking some time. You can’t rush these things.”
The closer she got, the more familiar he seemed. Even the voice. She was sure she’d heard that voice before.
“Yeah, I know, okay.” A pause. “Fine.” Another pause. “I got it. I said I got it.” His arm dropped furiously as he tapped at the screen, exposing his profile for the first time.
Journey nearly choked. “Dustin?”
His head snapped up, his earlier scowl immediately replaced with wide eyes. “Journey. Hey.” He glanced at his phone, then slid it in his pocket. “Sorry about that. Not all of my clients are the easiest to deal with.”
She forced a smile even though that strange sense of unease clung to her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“Me? Oh, I have a patient here.”
“You do?” She tried to remember if he’d stated that at dinner, but felt sure he hadn’t. “I guess I don’t remember you mentioning it.”
“Probably because I didn’t.” His lips curled and she looked for anything that reminded her of Ty. A feature. An expression. But came up with nothing. “Most people don’t want it advertised that they’re paying someone to do their family duty. I try to be discreet.”
Journey thought of her dad. “Yeah. I guess I can understand that.”
Dustin stepped closer. “Since I’m here, why don’t you introduce me to your grandmother? I’d love to meet the lady who lights up that beautiful face of yours.”
“She’s not doing well today.” She stole a peek at the entrance, hoping someone would appear. “No visitors.”
“I’m so sorry.” He reached out and ran a hand down her arm. His fingers encircled her wrist.
She tugged, but his grip seemed to get tighter. “Does Ty know you’re in town?”
“Of course he does.” His thumb slowly moved across her pulse point, sickening her. “Why don’t we go somewhere and talk? You can tell me more about the two of you.”
“I-I thought you had a patient.”
He released her and she immediately backed away. There was something very unstable about Ty’s brother.
“You’re right,” he said. “Turns out you can be quite a distraction Journey Hawthorne.” How did he know her last name? It never came up at dinner. That much she was sure of. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”
An unnatural silence surrounded them as they walked. The air felt stale, suffocating. She clutched her purse to her chest wishing she’d kept the pepper spray April had given her.
“Did Ty tell you he got some things appraised?” Dustin shoved his hands into his pockets. She felt grateful hoping it meant he wouldn’t try and touch her again.
“No, he didn’t mention it.”
“It bothers me. Makes me think he wants to profit off Norm’s death.”
“Never.” The idea alone was laughable. “Ty is the most sentimental person I know. I have no doubt he values everything in that storage building.”
“Yeah?” He said it as if Ty were weak or foolish.
“I just mean he cares about his history. His family.” She leveled a stare at this man who seemed to have no appreciation for the amazing person he was related to. “He cares about you, too, Dustin. Already.”
“And I care about him.”
She wanted to believe his words. Wished desperately that the knots in her stomach and the fear welling up wasn’t her intuition.
His eyes darted over to her trembling hand pulling at the handle, then to her face. “You okay?”
“Yeah…I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.” She fell into her seat, hoping her excuse sounded even a little believable.
“Drive safely.” He winked and shut the door behind her, not moving until she put the car in gear and drove away.
This feeling went way beyond the old nightmares and paranoia. Every instinct in her said Dustin was bad news, and worse, she knew Tyler
would give up every part of himself to please him. She couldn’t let it happen.
The last secret almost destroyed them. She would not make the same mistake twice.
Chapter 21
The storage unit felt especially stuffy. Probably because Tyler’s nerves were already stretched thin waiting on his tardy brother. After two more apology voicemails, Dustin had finally returned his call last night and agreed to meet him at ten today. It was now eleven fifteen and Tyler hadn’t heard a word. They obviously didn’t inherit the same sense of time management, or general consideration.
His shirt damp with sweat, Tyler hauled another box outside of the unit. This one labeled, Kitchen Cabinet – 4, testifying to how impersonal this entire process had been. People work their whole lives for things, and yet his grandfather’s entire existence had been tossed into square brown cardboard without care or consideration.
Tyler cracked his neck to each side, the weight of his dissatisfaction pressing down on him. What was he leaving behind? What legacy had he established? Would his own death even matter to more than a few? Would it matter at all?
Afraid of the answers, Tyler continued sliding his razor between the taped sides of box after box. If Dustin did finally show up, he wanted to be ready.
An old engine rumbled in the distance and Tyler placed his hand above his eyes to confirm who was coming.
It’s about time.
Dustin parked and slammed the driver side door shut. No greeting. No apology. Great. This was going to be a fabulous afternoon.
“You came?” Tyler tossed the razor onto the box he’d been working on. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”
“I said I’d come.” Cold. Biting. Not a tone Dustin had used with him before, at least not in person. “Though I don’t know why if you’re just going to sell off his things.”
Screw it. He was not going to spend the rest of the afternoon apologizing for the same thing over and over again. “Are we ever going to get past that one comment? Cause if not, tell me now and we’ll stop wasting time.”
The temperature dropped thirty degrees between them and Tyler felt every stinging degree.
“Sorry.” He blew out a breath. This wasn’t Beck. They didn’t have years of memories to counteract a moment of misdirected anger. “I don’t mean to yell at you. I’m just angry at myself for listening to others’ advice. You were right. There is no need to put a value on Norman’s things.”
Dustin stepped closer, opened a few flaps along the way, quickly peered inside each box, and then let them fall back into place. “What rooms have you done?”
“His bedroom, and now the kitchen. I think the living room and garage are pushed way to the back in there.”
Dustin nodded. “Mind if we pull out some other ones? I don’t have much time, and I don’t really think Norm kept anything interesting in the kitchen. At least not to my memory.”
Another reminder that Dustin had known his grandfather personally, and Tyler never had.
“Of course. Whatever you want to do.”
Dustin unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side, exposing another ninety’s band t-shirt Tyler only recognized because Sean was a metal head in high school.
“You like rock, huh?” Tyler asked, lifting his chin toward the shirt. “I’m more a jazz fan myself. John Coltrane. Ornette Coleman.”
“Never heard of them.” With a shrug, Dustin disappeared into the storage unit. Tyler could hear him heaving, and then the sliding of cardboard against the concrete.
He followed him in. “I can help.” But Dustin’s search didn’t seem random. He eyed the label on the box, then tossed it aside without even opening the flaps. “Is there something specific you’re looking for?”
“Guest room boxes,” he answered, his voice strained from tugging. “Norman’s mom, Farrah, had an old string of pearls that Norm gave to our grandma on their wedding day. He promised them to me. Said they were to be passed to the first born, and since our dad was dead—” Dustin stopped, caught his breath, and hung his head. “That promise doesn’t mean much now, huh?” He stepped closer, used the back of his hand to wipe his forehead. “I guess that’s why I got so upset when you were getting things appraised. Norm had said that necklace was his most valuable possession, and I thought his giving it to me meant he valued me too.” Dustin met Tyler’s eyes and gone was the bitterness and resentment. Just loss remained. The same loss Tyler had felt his entire life. “I can’t compete with the money. But I care about my history. My family. Even if they’re all gone.”
“So do I.”
“I believe you. Your phone call just…it threw me.”
Unwilling for this to be a barrier between them any longer, Tyler joined him at the wall of boxes and grabbed the first one he saw. “Listen, if Norm promised you the necklace, it’s yours.”
“Thank you.” Dustin smiled, genuine this time.
They’d pulled three more boxes from the wall in silence when Dustin straightened, stretched his back. “You know, some tunes might be nice. Maybe you can show me what’s so special about that John guy you mentioned.”
Those words were a show of solidarity, a show of brotherhood and Tyler’s chest felt tight. For the first time since they met, Dustin seemed to imply he might want to know Tyler, the person, not just the guy who’d inherited Norman’s belongings.
He had the music going in seconds, a soft hum of background noise.
“It was nice meeting all your friends the other night,” Dustin said, picking up one of the larger boxes and walking it toward the open side of the unit. “Though it’s a pretty insane group you’ve picked up.”
“What do you mean?”
Dustin’s look was incredulous. “Uh, let’s see. You live with the golden child of Kinder Enterprises and he’s obviously protective of you.”
Tyler tried to remember if he’d mentioned living with Beck. He must have.
“Your ex-girlfriend’s dad owns half of Austin and yet she seems to be the one pining away.”
It was Victoria who owned half of the city, but Tyler wasn’t going to correct him.
“And then on top of all that, April Duncan? Unreal. Do you know my first stereo was a Duncan? Saved for two months to get that thing.” He shook his head and smirked. “I wonder if Norm had any idea the kind of money you’re surrounded by.”
“Do you think it would have bothered him?” Tyler struggled with how much to tell Dustin, especially about the nondisclosure. He’d already seen that his brother had a less than favorable opinion of the wealthy.
“Bothered him?” Again a chuckle. “No.” He didn’t say more, just went back to pulling boxes from the wall.
A prickling unease fell across Tyler’s skin. “What about your family? How do they feel about you finding Norman…finding me?”
“They don’t really care.” Dustin shrugged. “We’re not exactly close.”
“Why’s that?”
Dustin dropped another box on the ground, the thud echoing through the small metal building. “Journey sure is gorgeous. You sure you’re done with her?”
Annoyance wrestled inside him, not because Dustin noticed her beauty. He’d accepted men’s stares a long time ago. It was more that his brother had said it as if her looks were all that mattered. “What do you say we stick to easier subjects for now. Like your favorite movies, or must-have foods?”
Dustin wiped his forehead with his shirt. “You got it, Bro. I’m not really the warm and fuzzy type anyway.”
Figures that would be the one thing he and his brother had in common.
They spent the next hour moving box after box until finally, the guest room labels appeared. Dustin’s eagerness increased as well, tearing open flaps with bare fingers before Tyler could retrieve the razor he’d been using outside.
“Any luck?” he asked, eyeing the four mangled boxes, each haphazardly rummaged through.
“No.” Frustration leaked from every part of his brother, his rigid stance,
his tight lips, his focus on the boxes like he was trying to have Superman’s powers.
“Listen, this stuff isn’t going anywhere.” Tyler stretched his arms above his head. “We should take a break. Go grab lunch. I’m starved.”
Dustin ran angry fingers over his face. “Okay, yeah. Let me look through a few more, then we’ll go.”
“Cool. I’ll clean up outside.”
A shout of victory came moments later from inside the building and Dustin appeared in the doorway, a black box gingerly cupped in his hands. Sweat stained his collar and sleeves, but the beaming smile on his face said it had all been worth it.
Tyler set down his load and approached him. “Mind if I look?”
Dustin handed the heirloom over. “Of course not.”
The jewelry case was made of black velvet and felt foreign in Tyler’s hand. He carefully lifted the top and a string of yellowed pearls appeared. They weren’t white or round or even that pretty. Each one was an odd shape and grainy when he touched them. Underneath the string, a folded piece of paper confirmed authenticity.
He glanced up and noticed Dustin smirking at him.
“You don’t have to think they’re pretty,” he said.
“Nah. I mean, they were special to Norman, so it really doesn’t matter what they look like.”
“Right.” He put out his hand waiting for Tyler to return the precious jewel.
He shut the box and handed it over, feeling both disappointed and exhilarated, each for the same reason. He wanted Dustin to have it, but he also wished it were Norman who’d shown him that piece of their history.
“You know what, I completely spaced,” Dustin said, eyeing the mess they’d made in the building. “I have an appointment in Elgin later today, and I really need to take this to my apartment before I go.”
Another shot of disappointment. “If you can wait ten minutes, I can go with. I wouldn’t mind seeing where you live.”
“I would, man, but it’s way out in Kyle.” He slid his abandoned shirt back over his sweaty t-shirt. “Hay’s Junction, and you know what a nightmare traffic can be.”
Until I Knew Myself (Bentwood Book 1) Page 15
