"Pretty damn good," he nodded.
"You smell like her," I said, the strong, sharp smell that wasn't reminiscent of anything you could find in nature was clinging to his clothes and skin.
"You smell like him," he said back.
"For the last time," I nodded.
"Yep," he agreed.
I liked that about Devon. I liked that he didn't sugarcoat things. I liked that he was brutally honest. He told you that you fucked up. But he didn't judge you for it. It was a truly unique and refreshing thing to come across.
"Hey Dev," I said, patting my hand down on his.
"Yeah?"
"Wanna be my friend?" I asked, feeling silly and school girlish, but it was what I needed to know. He smiled, a tight-lipped little grin as he turned his hand underneath mine and slid his fingers between mine, squeezing. "I thought we already were."
I nodded. "Just checking."
We walked back to the inn half an hour later. "Alright," he said at the curb. "I live that way," he said, flicking his head toward town. "Can I trust you to get back to your room by yourself?"
I snorted, rolling my eyes. "I think I can handle it."
"Are you sure? Because history isn't exactly on your side here."
I laughed, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. "Goodnight Devon."
He brought a hand up to his cheek, his eyes comically wide. "I'm never ever ever going to wash my face again," he declared in a girlish tone. "Goodnight Cordelia." He was already in the street when he called back, "Don't forget the ice."
I got back to my room, stripping out of the uncomfortable dress and throwing myself into the bath. I needed to get his smell out of my skin or I was never going to be able to sleep.
When I walked back into my room, the window was opened and something was on the sill. I went over, flicking the light on and finding my heels there... the ones I had kicked off on the inn's walkway when I was still pitifully drunk. If Dev or Em or James had found them, they would have left them outside of my bedroom door for me to find in the morning like I had just put them out to polish.
Finding them there only meant one thing. Dane was there. Sometime between our tryst in town and my taking a bath. He had been there.
I snatched them off the sill, sitting down and letting out the cry I had been holding in. I cried and cried, took aspirin, and cried some more.
But I didn't take Devon's advice. I didn't ice.
Because I was done pretending.
I wasn't going to fake it anymore.
Twenty-one
Cordelia
I moped for weeks, wearing jeans and baggy long sleeved t-shirts, doing work but keeping to myself, never leaving the inn except to grab books from Liam who had a stack waiting for me anytime I showed up. I found a junk food buddy in Emily who, despite her slight frame, had a sweet tooth that rivaled a five year olds. We met in the kitchen in the mornings to gorge ourselves on Lena's baked goods. We met late at night to curl up in the
sitting room, a gallon of ice cream in both of our laps as we talked about the inn, the town, our pasts.
Anything but Dane and Myra and the baby.
Two months passed in a haze where I couldn't disconnect one day from another in my memory. Which was fine. Time was easier to deal with when it was a fluid nothing. And then one day, sometime around the third month, I woke up feeling better. Not great. Not particularly happy, but not entirely miserable either.
I dressed in skinny jeans and a tight white tank top, summer having taken a turn toward the positively insufferable. I put on some makeup. I slipped into heels. And I went downstairs feeling five pounds lighter than I had when I went to bed the night before.
Dev was behind the desk, Emily scrambling around behind him doing a lot of nothing over and over as was her nature. "You look good," Devon said, nodding, looking genuinely happy for me.
"Thanks," I smiled, moving to stand in the sitting room doorway. Everything was finished. The furniture arrived. The books were back on the shelves. It was bright and airy and perfect. "I feel better."
There was the singsong sound of the chimes above the door as it opened and I swear I could hear Emily's breath suck in harshly. I turned slowly, expecting Dane. Because that would be so fitting on the day where I felt almost human again. But I found instead Myra, hugely round in the middle, her face pink and dewy. "Hey, I was looking for the designer."
"She's not..." Emily started to say, covering for me. But Devon's hand slapped down on hers hard, making her mouth clamp shut. Dev nodded toward me and Myra turned.
"Oh, hey," she said, smiling kindly at me. "I'm sorry. I know this is presumptuous of me, but I am so bad at this kind of thing. I was wondering if maybe I could have you... help me decorate the nursery."
I think my heart stopped beating right then and there. I was dead in the sitting room of the inn, brought down my a simple, innocent request from a pregnant woman. "I'm... ah... sorry... what?" I stumbled, trying to take slow, deep breaths through my nose. Trying to calm the lightheaded-ness that was threatening to make me fall right over.
"Caught you before your morning coffee, huh?" she laughed, the sound musical and charming. "Can I hire you to decorate my son's nursery?"
Son. They were having a son. A little Dane would be running around Stars Landing. A little piece of him I would never get to know. Somehow it seemed even more real than it had before. I guess cloistering myself up in the inn had given me a sort of insulation against the
harsh reality.
I looked past Myra where Emily was shaking her head violently at me. Beside her, Devon gave me a look I had become familiar with. It was a look that told me that sometimes you needed to do things you didn't want to. You pretended it didn't bother you and you handled your god damn business.
"I'm sorry, I'm so rude," Myra said, smiling, holding out her hand. "My name is Myra. I actually don't even know your name. One of the ladies at the market just told me there was a designer here. She didn't even know your name. Said you were a bit reclusive."
She didn't even know who I was. She didn't have the slightest idea that Dane and I had been together, albeit for the briefest possible amount of time. He hadn't discussed me when they talked about their pasts. She hadn't heard my name whispered with pity across the town.
I looked quickly at Devon who nodded his head once. We both knew what I had to do.
"I'm Cordelia," I smiled, taking her hand. "Cameron." I pulled my shoulders back slightly. "And I would be happy to."
"Oh my god. That's so great! The lady, the one in the market, she told me it was probably a long shot, but I wanted to try anyway. I'm getting close. I really need to get the room ready as soon as possible. Do you maybe want to... come by and see the space today? To get an idea of how much room you have to work with and whatnot?"
Go to Dane's apartment? No... hers and Dane's apartment? No. Oh, god, please... no.
"After you've had your coffee," she laughed.
"Of course," I smiled, shaking my head. I was just going to have to grin and bear it.
"Great. I'll be there all day so whenever you are ready. Thanks again, so much," she smiled, moving toward the door.
We all watched out the door until she was on the street, out of earshot.
Emily, of course, was the first to break the silence. "What the actual fuck do you think you are doing? Have you lost your mind?"
I watched as Myra crossed the street, waving at someone, before slipping behind the bar.
"She doesn't even know who I am," I said, half to myself.
"Who the hell cares?" Emily exploded. "You know who she is!"
"What excuse could I have given her for not doing it, Em? That I'm in love with her boyfriend?"
"That you're busy! You have a whole inn to design and..."
"And it's too late. So it's useless to even talk about it." I took a deep breath. "I need coffee and enough sugar to jump start and elephant's heart," I said, m
aking my way toward the kitchen.
I put it off as long as I could. Around one in the afternoon, I grabbed a notepad and a ring of paint colors and headed out the door. The walk felt impossibly long as I exchanged awkward hellos with people I hadn't seen in months, despite living only a few yards from them.
I made my way up Dane's back steps, noticing a welcome mat where there hadn't been one before and assuming it was an addition of Myra's. Men didn't usually think of small touches like that.
She was opening the door before I could even raise my hand to knock. "Hey, Cordelia," she beamed and I envied her happiness. More than I thought I would after so long. "I'm so glad you're here. Come in."
She moved out of the way and I stepped inside, overtaken by how much it had changed since the last time I was there. The kitchen area had been installed, gorgeous white cabinetry and sand-colored counter tops that matched the tile flooring. It was blocked off from the living room with an island with stools. The living room walls were painted a deep moss green. Too dark really, but utterly Dane. The moldings were a crisp white and the couches were a deep gray. There was a box for a baby swing on top of the coffee table.
"Right through here," she said, unnecessarily, leading me to the room across from the master bedroom where I had spent the best days of my life curled up with Dane. Now that was her place.
My stomach was churning, tied in nauseating knots as she opened the door and gestured toward the windows and gushed about the sunlight, how big of a space it was for a nursery. I pulled out my notepad and handed her the ring of paint chips.
"Is blue too cliché for a boy?"
"I think it's a cliché because its the right color," I said, attempting a smile as I took notes about the theme. She thought about baseball, but was worried it would make him grow up to feel like he was being forced into a masculine role. Then there were animals. Which could be too scary. Eventually she settled on a nautical theme: ships and anchors, maybe a fish or two. Not too baby-ish, but still friendly.
"Myra I got you the stuff you wanted," Dane's voice called and my stomach sloshed around ominously.
No. No no no. I had deliberately picked this time of day because it seemed like the least likely time he would be around. And I couldn't... I just couldn't deal with him on top of Myra and the very real protruding evidence of the baby.
"We're in the nursery," she called, smiling at me, rubbing her belly unconsciously.
"We?" he asked and I could hear his feet across the hardwood floor. "Who is we?" he asked pushing the door open.
He looked just as shocked as I felt. His eyes were huge, his mouth slightly parted.
Because I was the last person in the world he could have expected to find in his apartment.
"Dane, this is Cordelia," Myra said, scrunching her eyebrows up at Dane's expression. "She's the designer at the inn. She agreed to do the nursery for me. For us," she quickly corrected.
I swallowed hard against the feeling of sick in my throat, extending my hand out to him. "It's nice to meet you," I said, my voice sounding small and shaky. "Congratulations."
Dane took my hand and the contact felt like electric shock from my palm to my shoulder, a pulsing, painful throbbing thing I couldn't ignore. Dane dropped my hand quickly like he felt it too, taking a step back, almost out of the room.
"Dane what is wrong with you?" she asked, shaking her head like she was trying to make an excuse for his lack of manners. "Isn't it nice of Cordelia to do this for us? She's been really busy with the inn, but she was kind enough to take some time out for us."
"Yeah," he said, his eyes falling on mine and I felt a stab to my core, "it is very nice of her. Very unexpected."
I could handle this. I could be an adult. I could be strong and I could get through this.
"Tell him what we decided on, Cordelia," Myra urged, completely ignorant to the violent current of emotions between us. I don't know how because it was a palpable, heavy thing that made me aware of every blink of his eyes, every rise or fall of his chest.
"Right," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Myra thought a nautical theme would be perfect. So we decided on Moody Blue for the walls. White crib, changing table, and dresser. Then the bed sheets would be an anchor pattern and the comforter would be a ship. Then of course there will be a rocker where Myra or," I paused, gulping past the nausea, "you can rock the baby. Some shelves for memorabilia. Maybe some art. And that's about as far as we got," I said, offering Myra the closest thing to a smile I could manage.
"Sounds like you covered everything," Dane nodded stiffly.
I gripped my notebook until the metal rings bit into my skin. I wanted to run to him. And I wanted to run away from him.
"Yeah, she's incredible," Myra gushed. "I mean you did a really good job with the rest of the apartment, but I think we needed a bit of a woman's touch for a nursery and I'm not good at this at all."
"I'm sure that's not..." Dane started to console her.
"I suggested dinosaurs, Dane," she said seriously.
"Okay," he laughed, smiling until he looked back at me, "maybe you're not."
I needed to go. Right then. Right friggen then.
"I think Caleb will be perfectly at home in a nautical bedroom," she said, patting her belly.
Oh, great. Now I had a name. It wouldn't be an abstract idea. An it. A him. Now anytime I thought of him, it would be Caleb. Little Caleb with his daddy's golden eyes and his mother's smile.
"Cordelia can we offer you some coffee or tea or..."
We. Can... we. "No," I said way too quickly, making Myra's smile falter. I took a breath and forced a smile. If I didn't get out of there, I was going to vomit all over Caleb's bedroom. "I'm sorry. I have plans to go antiquing with Emily this afternoon. I can't stay." There. That was a believable lie. For Myra. Dane's brow had lifted slightly. I probably should have said Devon. That would have been more realistic. There was no way Emily had the patience to dig through a bunch of old crap to find the buried treasure.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to keep you, I just got all wrapped up. Thank you so much. You can just give me a call when you get everything in or when you need to have the painters in or whatever. Thanks so much," she said, leading me out of the room, patting Dane's side as
she passed.
"No problem. I will be in touch," I smiled at her, ignoring Dane completely as I ducked outside, taking the steps at a normal pace in case they were watching.
I paused for a moment then hauled ass into the woods, running as far and fast as I could to get out of sight. I fell down on my knees, throwing up violent and uncontrollably, my body wrenching, my eyes streaming until there was nothing left. Until my belly was as empty as I
felt.
I got up shakily, following the sound of the river until I came upon it. Familiar. Somehow comforting. This was where I went to fall apart. This was my place. I scooped water and rinsed my mouth until I felt less disgusting, dropping down on the rocky edge.
I saw them. Not just him. Not just her. But them. As a couple. Together. And they weren't unhappy. Maybe a part of me had been vindictive enough to hope they wouldn't be happy. It was small and sad of me, but it was there.
The reality was that they had already settled into a comfortable little family. They found humor in each other. They had made a home together. They would soon be adding more roots to their tree. Had I not been there, I never would have seen it.
And, I realized with a groan of complete awful acceptance, I never would have given up.
There had always been the tiniest glimmer of hope, blocked out most of the time by the impossibility of the situation, but there. I clung to it like a life vest. I found comfort in it. But that was gone.
Because they would be okay.
Maybe not perfect. Not absolutely mad with love. They would build a life and affection would bloom and from affection, love. Sometimes that was how it worked. It wasn't sudden and blinding. It wasn't
the stuff of fairy tales. But it didn't make it any less real, any less worthy of striving for.
There was no place for me in Dane's life. There was nothing left.
I scooted back from the rocks, finding myself on the soft moss I had fallen asleep on all those months before. Something caught my eye as I settled, a shiny piece of paper stuck underneath a fallen limb. I reached for it and found it familiar.
Then I remembered the afternoon I had gone to the bar. The afternoon my life took a sharp turn somewhere I hadn't planned on: steering me headfirst and unprepared into heartbreak. I had been walking down the street and the psychic, Maude I think her name was, had stopped me and handed me a piece of paper. She told me it would help me after.
I didn't realize at the time that it had been a sort of warning. She knew I was walking into hell and she had given me something to give me some kind of comfort. I must have dropped it and forgotten it in my misery.
I took a deep breath, unfolding the photo paper. A half gasp, half laugh burst out of my lips as I looked down at the picture that wasn't quite a picture. It was a copy of an advertisement. For men's underwear. And the model wearing the very tight, very revealing boxer briefs... was Dane.
Dane had done male modeling. Dane had done... underwear male modeling. Which was especially ironic because Dane never wore underwear.
It clashed so hard with the image of Dane I had in my head and heart that I felt myself laughing, loud and almost hysterically until it caught on a sob as I looked back down. I stroked my hand down the side of his face. I ran my fingers over his arm, his Kerouac quote fully visible with the angle he had his arm held at.
I would never see him like that again. Almost naked, his strong muscles on beautiful, flawless display. His eyes as bright and easy-going as I remembered them. I took a long slow breath and reached my hands toward the center of the paper, ripping it down the middle and placing the two halves on top of each other, ripping it the other way. Until it was tiny pieces. Until it was just flesh colors that made up no image at all. I stood up slowly, walking to the water's edge, looking down at my hands full of the man I loved. I spread my fingers, letting the pieces slowly flow away, watching as they floated away from me.
The Stars Landing Deviant Page 18
