by A. S. Green
“Calloway?”
I know what she’s thinking. Calloway hadn’t struck me as the creative type, either—let alone capable of something as fantastical as this. “Yeah. Supposedly he made it for his daughter. Twenty-five years ago or so. Don said that she wanted to leave Little Bear, travel the world, write travel guides for people…but then she got sick.”
Katherine nods as if she knows where I am going with the story. She pushes herself to her feet. “And before she died, he built this for her so she could see the great architectural sites of the world. That’s so sad!”
“Ah, sort of,” I say. “Maybe that would be a better ending. She was a teenager when she got sick. He built it so that she could feel like she had traveled the world, like you said, but when she got better, and she did get better, she left the island anyway. I think Don said she lives in New York City now.”
“Poor Calloway,” Katherine says with a sigh, leaning back against a tree. “It must be hard to have his daughter so far away.”
“Yeah, and really weird for someone to leave Little Bear, having grown up here and all. Not many people do that—at least not permanently. I think he might even be a little embarrassed about it, judging by the way Don talked—it’s almost scandalous.”
“Oh, look at that!” Katherine exclaims, pointing to the clock face on Big Ben. The hands aren’t moving, but it’s clear they once had. “I can’t believe how painstaking this must have been. Can you imagine loving someone so much that you’d try to bring the whole world to them, just so they’d be happy?”
I swallow hard, and something unspoken passes between us. It’s big. Huge. I know she feels it, too.
“Why’d you bring me here, Bennet?”
“Because of what you said back at the lighthouse.” Her eyes are questioning, so I gesture at the village. “This place. It’s just a ‘little thing.’ But that doesn’t mean it isn’t important. Your dreams might be little things to some people, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t everything to you.”
She ducks her head, and the tips of her ears go pink.
I walk a few feet away and lean my back against a tree. “I used to come up here a lot to write. Looking for inspiration. I figured being in a place where so much energy was dedicated to a creative effort—without ever knowing how it would turn out in the end…” I laugh nervously and rub my hands through my hair. “But I haven’t needed to come up here for a while because you’ve been all the muse I’ve needed this summer. I owe you a lot.”
“I don’t know about that,” she says, lifting her head to stare up into the canopy of trees. “I feel pretty insignificant right now.”
She’s right. We are both small, dwarfed by everything around us: both physical and emotional. Even the miniature village, the evidence of Calloway’s love, is bigger than we are.
“I’m glad I got to share this place with you, D’Arcy. You know I want to share a lot more with you.” I push off the tree and close the distance between us. When I get to her, I brush my fingertips across her cheek, and she shivers. She brings her face closer and presses her lips to mine. First a sweet graze, then a tender insistence. It’s a kiss of promise, and it shakes me to my very core.
“Feeling inspired?” she asks, pulling back. I stare into her eyes for one long moment then kiss her again. Her lips part.
Despite everything we’ve shared, I can’t shake the worry that it’s only because Andrew’s so far away. Will the situation change when she has to go back to…him, or once I get the balls to tell her what I know about him? What then? I wish I knew the answers.
My hands tangle in her hair as I hold her face to mine. She throws her arms around me.
“You have brought the world to me, Bennet. And not just a concrete imitation of it. I thought I knew what love was, but I know now that I never did. I love you, body and soul. Every part of me is in love with you, and has been since you told me I shouldn’t know what the day will bring simply by its place on the calendar.”
I start to interrupt, but she holds up a hand. “You reminded me I had choices. I love you, Bennet. You have no idea how much.” Then she says, as if she’s been reading my mind, “I’m not leaving you.”
I swallow. There is an intensity in her eyes that I know is reflected in my own. I want to lay it all out there, as clearly as she has, but all I can manage is a quiet, “I love you, too. Body and soul.” That’s because inside I’m thinking, We’ll see. We’ll see if you leave me, because I still have no idea how she’s going to react to the truth about Andrew. I’d tell her now, but my gut tells me it’s too soon. She’ll make a knee-jerk reaction. I need more time.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say.
“Yeah, you said that back at the lighthouse.” Her eyes are laughing. “What have you been thinking about?”
She is still so close, our chests are touching. She has one palm laid flat over my heart, and the other is tracing the shape of my ear. It tickles, and I reach up to take her hand in mine.
“I want you to—” I clear my throat. God, this is harder to say than I thought. “I want you to go back to Minneapolis early. I don’t want you to wait until Labor Day.”
She sucks in her breath, and I watch as a pained expression clouds her face. “Why would you say that?” she asks, her voice tight.
“Because I’m sick of this. I can’t take it anymore,” I say, explaining as calmly as I can how the uncertainty of our situation is killing me. I want her. I want to believe she wants me, too.
She steps back and yanks her hand out of mine. “Well then, don’t! Nobody’s making you be with me.”
She turns as if to storm off, and I realize my mistake. I lunge quickly enough and get a hand on her shoulder. “No, wait. That came out wrong. Please, get a grip.”
She stops, turns, and blinks at me. “Get a grip?” She blinks again. “Get a grip? Nice. I proclaim my love for you, and you respond by telling me to leave the island. What the hell, Bennet?”
“Settle down,” I warn, palms up. “You’re being ridic—”
“Don’t tell me I’m being ridiculous.”
“What I’m trying to say is that I can’t take being with you every day, every night, without your having things wrapped up the way they should be…with him…at home. I agree you need to do it in person. I just don’t want to wait for Labor Day for you to do it.”
Her mouth is tight, so tight her lips have practically vanished. Seconds tick by before she says, “And what exactly do you want me to do?” It sounds like a test, but I’m too stupid to get it.
“I don’t know.” I throw my hands up and start pacing back and forth in the carpet of dead pine needles. “I want you to burn bridges. Assure me that we’re going to be together. Here. Or somewhere else. I don’t care.”
“And what else?” She crosses her arms, which means I should stop there.
I hate that I’ve made her mad, but I still don’t understand what I’ve said to make her that way. Words are supposed to be my art form, and for some reason, all of a sudden, I can’t put two of them together. “What are you talking about?”
“Bennet!” Her hands go to her hair like she means to yank it from its roots. “Gah! You’re such a hypocrite. I can’t believe it.”
“Believe what?”
She punches the heel of her hand against my chest—hard—and now she’s the one who’s pacing. “Here you are, talking about what a horrible person Andrew is because he tells me how to be, what to choose, where to go…but you’re cut from the exact same cloth.”
I try not to wince too noticeably because, Jesus, that hurts. A lot. She must have misunderstood me. I’m not trying to tell her what to do. I’m trying to tell her how I feel. There’s a difference. If she doesn’t want to go back now, that’s fine. It’s her choice. I’ll deal.
“D’Arcy, I don’t think I’m making myself clear.”
“Oh, I think you made yourself perfectly clear, even though you know I can’t leave now. I’m here to do a job. I can’t
leave Lucy alone, and I’m not going to do what you say just because it’ll make you more comfortable if I do.”
I shake my head. That’s not what I meant at all. “Do what you want. Whatever you want. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. But you know Natalie or I would take care of Lucy, so don’t use her as an excuse just because you’re afraid…” I pause for a second, thinking that through. “Wait. Is that what’s wrong? Do you want to keep that bridge intact, just in case? Are you afraid we’re not going to work out?”
“I don’t need a bridge!” She’s yelling now, and I wish I’d never started this. “I told you—I love you. When summer’s over, I’ll talk to Andrew. I’ll go right on up to him and…and I’ll tell him. I’ll tell him exactly how I feel about his plans, and I’ll…”
Her eyes close and she stops for a second, maybe to catch her breath, but when she opens her eyes, there’s a flicker of fear. I hate seeing it there. “Oh, God. I’m going to hurt him.”
“D’Arcy,” I say, pulling her into my arms.
“He’s going to be so mad at me.”
“Shhh. It’s all right. It’s all right. Everything I said…I just wanted to be honest with you about how I feel, but that doesn’t mean you have to do anything right now.”
She exhales, softening against my body.
“Wait until you’re ready.” I hold her, praying I don’t say anything more to compromise all we’ve built together. “Whenever that is.”
She nods her head, and it rubs against my chest. “Okay. Okay. But…you’re right.” She tips her head back to look at me. “I am scared. Even if I don’t go back until summer is over, I still don’t know what to say to him.” She smiles sadly. “Maybe you could write a script? Tell me what to say?”
The idea strikes me as hilarious, and I step back to see if she’s serious. She is, and I laugh once, nervously, already imagining what my script would say. Hello, Andrew. You’re a self-centered ass, and to the extent you’re feeling sorry for yourself for losing Katherine, well, here’s some salt for your wounds.
“I think that would be a really, really bad idea,” I say. “When’s the last time you called him?”
She thinks about that. “It’s been a while… Not since he got back from Italy.”
“But he’s called you, right?” I ask with a little more insistence.
“No.” She scrunches up her forehead. “Probably. I don’t know. There’s no answering machine.”
I turn away, worried. I don’t have a strong sense of how close their bond is, but if they’re as close as she says, then he’s got to be bothered by how inaccessible she is. If I were him, I’d be going crazy.
“Are you sure he’s not going to come charging up here to make sure you’re still alive?”
“Andrew’s not you,” she says, and even though she can’t see my face, I roll my eyes. Her hand wraps gently around my shoulder. “It’s not like that between me and Andrew. You don’t know him like I do.”
No doubt. But I shake my head in disagreement and turn to face her.
“He’s really very busy finishing up his internship,” she says. “He probably expects that I’m busy, too…with work.”
“What on earth made you ever think you should be with someone like that?” It depresses me to imagine what her future could have been. Could still be if I screw things up by letting go of my secret too soon.
“I think we’ve been through this enough already,” she says. “That wasn’t me. I don’t know who that person was.”
My entire body goes still at her tone. It’s one I’ve never heard, and the sadness behind it slides through me.
“I’m glad you figured that out then,” I say, walking closer. I curl my arms around her and press in. “It’s gonna be okay, babe. It’s going to be a beautiful life. From here on out. I promise you.”
Her arms tighten. “I know.” She brushes her fingers across the back of my hand. “You’re the most beautiful thing in my world, but…” And then a spark flashes in her eyes. Her hand shoots out, and she grabs my nose like a vice.
“Ow,” I say, “let go uff my node.”
“Fine,” she says with a grin, and in an instant she’s got me by the balls instead. She’s learned her way around them well enough to know what it takes to get my attention without making me ready. She’s not hurting me. Yet. But we both know she could. I blink once.
“Here’s the deal, Bennet. I’m not the same person who showed up on this island back in June. I have a much better idea of who I am, and what I want. And I can tell you right now, I am someone who is going to be making her own decisions from now on. Some of them you’re going to like. Some of them you’re not. But you have no one to blame but yourself for my epiphany.
“Now, the good news is, as part of all this, I also have a good idea of who I want and why I want him.”
This time I know better than to say anything. She’s on a most definite roll.
“I want you, Bennet.” She gives me an extra squeeze, and I bite back a groan. “Don’t you doubt it. But if you ever pull that shit on me, tell me what I should do and how things are going to be…if you ever play the hypocrite, make me think you’ve deceived me and that you’re not the guy I think you are…if you do any of those things, that’ll be the day I say good-bye.” Then she releases me and walks off the way we came.
I don’t follow right away. I watch her hair swing, and her ass sway, and her legs take long confident strides away from me until she’s almost completely out of view. I am awestruck and ecstatic, and yet all I can do is pray, pray, pray she doesn’t mean that last part. I know my day of reckoning is coming. No matter how good my intentions, I’m not such a fool to think I can avoid it forever.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Katherine
I wake up to find Bennet still asleep. He’s on his stomach, the sheets pulled down to his waist, the smooth, tanned skin and defined muscles of his back bared to me. I smile at the sight and get dressed quietly. He worked late last night. He needs to sleep in. I, however, have plans for the day.
I put a hand on the bed beside him and lean in to kiss the small of his back. He shifts and rolls. I straighten and look down at his beautiful face. His bright blue eyes go hot, his arms reach up and close around me. The next thing I know, I’m in bed with Bennet’s mouth on mine.
When he pulls back, he says, “Were you sneaking off somewhere? What’s with the dress?”
“I was going to leave a note, but then I thought to kiss you instead.”
“Always a good choice.”
I smile against his shoulder, and his arms tighten around me. My dress is going to get wrinkled, but I don’t care enough to do anything about it.
“So where were you going?”
“New Porte.”
“New Porte?” His eyebrows shoot up. “Why?”
“Well…Rachel has invited us over for dinner tomorrow, and there’s a recipe I want to try. Tremblay’s doesn’t carry some of the ingredients, and…” I’m not sure about the next part. It’s just an idea I thought I’d check into, and I haven’t mentioned it to him yet. “I’ve also got an appointment with an admissions counselor at the college in Bell Harbor.”
His body stills. I don’t know how to take it. I know we’re solid, but maybe I’m moving too fast.
He rolls us so he is on top, pressing me into the mattress. His eyes go hazy, and his face softens with so much love and so much relief that it makes my heart give a little squeeze. “You’re staying?”
“Yeah.”
He sucks in a breath and holds it for a second. “Really staying?”
“If I can get into school up here, then yeah.”
He touches his lips to mine, briefly sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, then he rolls off and away. “Not worried, babe. You’ll get in.”
I turn to my side and watch his sculpted backside as he goes to his dresser and pulls out a pair of faded jeans. He tugs them on commando, and the muscles in his back move as he walks to
the bathroom to snag a clean T-shirt out of the laundry basket.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “You should sleep in.”
“Going with you, of course,” he says. “And then we’re going out to celebrate.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Bennet
Hours later, Katherine and I are in New Porte, sitting in a soup and panini joint called the Purple Paisley. Mooshy gave me shit about going anywhere near the ferry on my day off. Under any other circumstances, I would have agreed with him, but today is no ordinary day.
We took my truck to Bell Harbor, just a twenty-minute drive from New Porte, and I waited in the lobby of the admissions office while Katherine had her meeting with the dean. She came out with a thick folder and her face lit up, looking more beautiful than I’d ever seen her—and that was really saying something. She threw her arms around me right there in front of the receptionist and said, “He thinks all of my credits will transfer!”
Now she’s sitting across from me at the Purple Paisley with a grocery sack beside her on the bench and the contents of the admissions folder spread out in front of her. She’s only half eaten her tomato soup (the bowl now pushed aside), but my sandwich is nearly gone.
“Oh my gosh, they have a catering class,” she says, as she scans one of the many brochures. “That would be amazing!”
I pop the last bite into my mouth and have to practically scrub myself down with my napkin. It was that messy and that good. “Start your business by getting the recipe for the sauce they put on this thing.” I lick the last bit off my thumb.
Katherine watches this maneuver with interest then says quietly and slowly, “I cannot believe I’m actually doing this.”
The way she says those words, her disbelief sounding less like surprise and more like apprehension… It pops the bubble of happiness I’d been riding all morning. I swallow down my growing fear that she will change her mind, and lean into the table toward her. “You don’t have to do anything, D’Arcy. Take more time to think about it, if that’s what you need.”
