The Legend

by Allen, Dylan

  “It’s too bad he’s with his grandfather on that trip. But if he wasn’t, he might not be there, he said it’s kind of a drag.”

  “Well, he’s going to miss seeing you dressed like the princess you are.”

  She walks over to my bed and sits down beside me. She lays the shoes down gingerly on the bed between us and grabs my hand and turns to face me. I do the same. Our gazes lock and in hers I see hope. She wants so badly for things to be different. She wants this community to be our home. The place where we belong. I do, too.

  “I know I fucked-up the first fourteen years of your life. I was a hot mess of a mother.” She presses our joined hands to my chest and holds them there. “But, there’s nothing about my life that has to define yours. You’ve got everything I didn’t. You’re making the right choices. You’ve got a healthy fear of trouble and you’re a heck of a lot smarter than I was.”

  “You’re smart.” My first instinct will always be to defend her.

  She smiles sadly and her eyes roam my face. “When you were born, I was so young, so scared and very alone. Every adult in my life had encouraged me to consider putting you up for adoption.”

  “Really?” I ask, but I’m not surprised. I heard my grandmother say things like that all of the time before she died.

  “Yeah. I was sixteen. Single. Your father… well. It doesn’t matter.” She closes her eyes momentarily, the way she always does when she mentions my father.

  “I didn’t listen. I knew you were going to be the thing that saved me. You were born at sunrise. And I swear, Kal, a beam came right in the window and kissed your lips. You opened your little mouth like you were trying to swallow it. Remember, that you are nobody’s victim. You’ve already survived a lot. Including having a shitty mother.”

  “You’re not.”

  “I was. I’ve been scared straight. But if I had been smart, I would have looked at you and seen a future. Instead, I was looking over my shoulder at a past I couldn’t change and making a mess of both our lives in the process.”

  Her eyes well with tears and her lips press together.

  “It wasn’t that bad… But I don’t miss the way we lived. I like having a stable place that’s ours.”

  She gives me a sad smile. “I’ll make sure we never live that way again. I didn’t grow up with someone who loved me more than they loved anything else. But, I hope, that no matter how misguided my decisions were, you know that I love you more than anything else.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “You’re going to make it.” Her brows knit together in a fierce scowl that makes me smile.

  “Keep telling me that with that look on your face, I’ll believe it. Thank you for bringing me here. It feels like a real second chance. And I know it’s only been a month. But… Remi’s special. He gets me. He never judges me and I’m falling for him.” I sigh dreamily at the ceiling.

  “He’s a good kid. And tonight, you’ll get to dazzle his family the way you’ve dazzled him.” She taps my nose with our still joined fist and smiles brightly.

  “Come on. We’ve got to do something with that hair. Let’s get you ready for your coming out, sweetie. Tonight, we make our triumphant return to Wilde House as guests.”

  My stomach gives an odd turn. I grab her arm and pull her back to the bed. “I don’t want that. Let’s just go and do whatever most people do at a ball and leave out of the same door we came in. That would make it feel like a success.”

  “Oh, baby. It’s going to be incredible. Maybe you’ll meet some of the young people you’ll be going to school with in the fall. Just in time for senior year.” She shimmies her shoulders excitedly.

  I smile and don’t tell her I’ve met plenty of them at Sweet & Lo’s and that I wouldn’t mind if I never saw half of them again.

  “Okay, so show me those dresses.” I point at the bags at the foot of my bed and her smile gets about one hundred watts brighter.

  “Thought you’d never ask.”

  * * *

  “Have you ever seen anything more enchanting?” My mother grabs my elbow and leans into me to whisper in my ear. “I’d forgotten how beautiful this house is.”

  “It is.” I realize I haven’t seen the inside of Remi’s house since that night, either. And then, I barely saw any of it.

  I guess I’m not really seeing it now either, though. It’s decorated with in an inch of its life. It’s an enchanted garden come to life.

  Walls of flowers divide the room into sections. Each one color themed, with its own bar and seating area. The huge room is lit by thousands of white fairy lights that are woven into the huge swaths of fabric that form a canopy over the dance floor.

  The party’s in full swing, a live band complete with three dancers belts out Prince’s “Kiss” and the revelers are dancing and blowing kisses in time with the music. It has the feel of something out of a fairy tale, but I can’t shake the feeling that something sinister is lurking in the darkened corners.

  Maybe it’s just PTSD from the last time I was in this house. Whatever it is, it makes my stomach feel like it’s home to a flock of agitated birds.

  “Come on, let’s go find the food,” she whispers and starts to lead us around the edge of the dance floor. I try to shake the feeling of foreboding and I tug us to the left, so we cut right through the mass of revelers. I feel safer lost in the crowd somehow.

  “Why didn’t we just go around?” she asks when we come out on the other side.

  I shake my hips and wink. “Because I love that song. Seemed like a waste of a dance, to walk around,” I lie.

  “Ah, to be young. My feet are killing me now.”

  “Oh, mine too. These shoes are ridiculous.” I wiggle my toes. In these strappy sandal deathtraps, there was nothing to protect my toes from being trod on a few times as we walked through the crowd of dancers.

  “Thank God those shoes are pretty enough to be worth the pain.”

  “They are, aren’t they?” I preen and lift the skirt of the pale yellow ball gown before I drop into a curtsey. “I do feel like a princess,” I admit

  “You look like one.”

  “Thank you so much for this. It’s nice to mingle and feel like part of the community.”

  “I’m just glad we could have tonight.” She squeezes my hand.

  “Hello, ladies,” a deep voice rumbles behind us and we spin around at the same time and both smile when we see David Lister smiling down at us.

  “Hello, Lister.” My mother leans in to press a kiss to his weathered cheek. Her voice is stiff. and she wraps an arm through mine and pulls me close to her.

  “You’re the prettiest ladies here. I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.” His gray, bushy eyebrows draw together in his trademark scowl, which is in fact, his smile.

  He’s been so nice to us. He’s the only person in Rivers Wilde who really has been.

  Given their acrimonious past, it’s ironic that we own the bookstore that had been his wife’s. She would never tell me what the spat was about. Whatever it was, they’ve both clearly gotten over it. He comes by the bookstore some afternoons and strolls the aisles and tells me stories about the time his wife spent there.

  Business has picked up thanks to our themed nights and promotional events. We’re having our first author signing there in a couple of weeks and we started a used section where we buy back and then resell books that have been lovingly used by previous owners.

  “I’ve got to mingle, but I’ll see you both later.” He gives her hand a squeeze and pats my shoulder as he moves on. I want to grab his hand and ask him to stay. There’s something about his presence by our side that’s comforting. I watch him walk away and try to calm my nerves. Everything is fine.

  “Oh, this is so nice, look at all the people.” She points at the dance floor where Sweet, very heavily pregnant, and her husband, Lotanna, are cutting a rug and laughing out loud the whole time.

  She’s a bit of a hard-ass—but who runs a successful business w
ithout being that? I happen to know that at the center, is also plenty of soft. And she’s let that soft be my cushion more times than I can count.

  Rivers Wilde is a special place. I look around at the sea of happy friendly faces and think that maybe, after I’m done seeing the world, that this could be home.

  “Ah, Morgan, Kalilah, welcome. We’re so glad you could come,” a voice dripping with false warmth says from in front of us.

  “Tina, hello,” my mother croons, drops her hold on me and grabs Mrs. Wilde’s hand. “Thank you so much for asking us.” She pumps their joined hands excitedly and Mrs. Wilde pulls hers out of the embrace and smiles coldly. I feel that cold down to my bones. I step away from them.

  “I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

  “Oh, we are. The flower walls are amazing,” my mother gushes and I squirm.

  “Kalilah, you look lovely,” she says, her eyes flit over my dress and she gives me a stiff smile.

  “I wonder if you wouldn’t mind excusing your mother and me for a few minutes. I just have a few things to discuss with her,” she says as if she doesn’t really give a shit whether I mind or not.

  My mother’s grin falters, and she looks like she’s not sure if she should be excited or scared. “You want to talk? To me? Tonight?” she stammers.

  “Only for a moment. Kalilah, the young people are in the smaller ballroom. We’ve set up a small casino for you all and the band in there’s playing music that’s a little more contemporary.”

  “I’ll send Morgan to find you when we’re done.”

  I don’t like the look in her eyes, and suddenly, I’m thinking I’d just like to go home.

  “Kal, go on. Us ladies are just gonna have a quick gab and then I’ll be back.”

  “Okay,” I say and watch as Mrs. Wilde links arms with my mom and leads her out of the room into the large foyer of the house.

  13

  MIDNIGHT

  KAL

  “Kalilah, you’re still here?” Fifteen minutes after she and my mother disappeared, Mrs. Wilde is back. And she’s alone.

  “I thought you were going to find the young people.” Her cool silky words coil around me and my breathing constricts.

  She’s up to something.

  “Where’s my mother?” I watch the door for a glimpse of her dark head.

  “She’ll be along in a minute. I think she’s using the powder room.” She waves in the general direction of the hallway.

  The unease in my stomach intensifies and I start to walk away. “I’ll go find her.”

  “My goodness, you two are attached at the hip,” she purrs as she gives me a once over.

  “You do look lovely tonight. I see why he likes you.” Her cold appraisal makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  “I’m going to look for my mother.” I start to back away.

  She grabs my arm. “Come, let me show you to the young people’s room. Let your mother enjoy a night with her colleagues and neighbors.”

  She steers me into a long corridor and then up the stairs. She takes her hand off my back, but her presence behind me is heavy and menacing. We reach the top of the stairs and stand at the mouth of a long, wide corridor.

  The light gray walls are bare save for a huge painting of a woman caught in the middle of a sweeping leap on the wall. Her body is wrapped in a white cloth, her arms are raised over her head and her eyes are closed in an expression of bliss. It’s arresting and as I stare at it, I realize the beauty captured in the painting is none other than Tina Wilde.

  “Oh, wow. Is that you?” I ask in wonder. I turn around to find her watching me, much the way I’d been staring at her painting.

  “Yes. I used to be a dancer and my late husband had it commissioned before he died. Do you like it?” she asks conversationally.

  “Very much. You were so beautiful. I mean you still are, but this could be in a museum somewhere.”

  “Hmm, thank you. It feels like a lifetime ago,” she says absently.

  “I’ve always wished I could paint, capture things like this. Never had the chance to take lessons.”

  “Maybe one day,” she says in a non-committal way before her smile brightens. “Anyway, just go to the end of the hall, it’s the last door on the left. Have fun.” She stands there, waiting for me to go. I glance down the hall and I gather my courage.

  “What are you waiting for? All of your friends are there.”

  “Okay. Thanks,” I mumble to myself and start down the hall. I rub my bare arms as I walk. It’s cool in the house but these goose bumps and the pangs of dread in my gut, I just can’t shake.

  I walk down the corridor and see all of the family pictures I didn’t see downstairs. There are pictures of Remi with his siblings from when he was a toddler until what looks like a very recent picture. His twin sister looks nothing like him. She’s just as striking as he is. With the same hazelnut skin, dark loosely curled hair and keen eyes—but their faces are completely different. Tyson and Remi look more like twins than he and Regan.

  I keep moving, admiring the pictures and then I get to the last one before the doors to the bedroom start. It’s their whole family. I gasp at the resemblance he bears to his father. He told me he was Irish. The only difference in their appearance is that Remi’s skin is darker and his eyes are not that startling blue. It’s like seeing what Remi will look like when he’s in his thirties.

  Then, I hear Remi’s voice and stop cold. My heart plummets to my toes. I listen again, and I know my ears aren’t playing tricks on me. It’s coming from behind the door, but I would know that voice anywhere. He’s laughing, it’s loud and raucous.

  Blood rushes in my ears and my eyes fill with tears. My whole body flashes hot and the cold. I wipe the tears that are flowing down my cheeks away and try to find something to hold on to. But I can’t and I lean against the wall across from the door. Remi’s voice, mingled with what sounds like dozens of others, taunts me.

  I turn to look back down the long brightly lit hallway. Mrs. Wilde is still there. Smiling.

  The horrible truth becomes clear.

  This is why she invited us. She knows that Remi lied to me. She expects me to open the door and crumble. I look away from her. I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me broken. I look down at my feet. These shoes are fucking back luck.

  My heart throbs like it’s caught in a vice. But, this is exactly what I expect from life. The only happy endings I’ve ever known are the imaginary ones I’ve written. I’ve always known, deep inside, that the legend I’d been spinning this summer would turn out to be the biggest lie of all. I’m going to confront him. Let him see that I know and that I don’t care.

  With that resolve, I march back to the door. I put my hand on the knob and suddenly the threshold feels like the cliff edge of my fate.

  My heart is caving in on itself. My courage fails me.

  I can’t open that door. And I can live my whole life without seeing what’s on the other side. Sure, my imagination will run wild, but nothing I’ll imagine will be as bad as having the reality burned into my memories.

  But, before I can turn and walk away, the choice is taken from me. The door flies open.

  Loud music blares out into the hallway and standing at the door, dressed in a tuxedo, looking as handsome as the devil he is, is Remington Wilde. The boy who I let be my first. The boy who made me think he was falling in love with me the way I was falling in love with him. I want to punch his fucking lights out for ruining this.

  He looks like he’s going to throw up.

  “Kal.” His voice breaks at the end of my name and I want to cry.

  “I’m leaving,” I say stiffly. I’m fighting with everything I have not to give him one more piece of myself. My heart’s not ready for this, I have no idea how to handle the waves of pain that are starting to radiate through me. I hold his eyes, the panic in them a weird sort of harness on my own. I start to back away.

  “Kal, no. Please, let me expla
in,” he begs, his arms out to grab a hold of me.

  Then, the nail in our coffin appears behind him.

  “Remi, you’re the worst date ever. I’m waiti—” Joni’s words and smile die simultaneously when she sees me standing there.

  “Oh, it’s you.” She squeezes herself next to Remi in the doorway. They stand there, both looking down at me. If my chest didn’t feel like someone was standing on it already, the smug satisfaction on her face hits me like a freight train.

  I suck in a fortifying breath. “I’m leaving. It’s okay.”

  “Don’t leave, please—” Remi reaches for me, I lurch away from his outstretched hand. My heel catches in the loops of the edge of the rug in the center of the hall and I flail for a second before I fall and land with a painful thud on my backside.

  I glare at my feet and the fucking shoes on them. I start to unstrap them from my ankles. My trembling fingers make the task difficult.

  Remi crouches in front of me.

  “Leave me the fuck alone, Remi,” I hiss. I pull the left shoe off and then start on the strap of the right one.

  “I’ll wait for you inside,” Joni says quietly, and her hand rests possessively on Remi’s shoulder before she disappears.

  Now, I want to throw up. I glare at him, let him see for a moment, just how badly he’s hurt me.

  He blinks and swallows hard. “Kal. This is not what it looks like. Please, please let me explain.” His hands cover mine and a wave of cold washes over me. I shudder and gasp.

  “Do not touch me.” I’m trembling, my heart thunders in my ears.

  He pulls his hands away immediately.

  “Kal, listen.”

  “No. I don’t want to know. You lied to me. You didn’t have to do that.” I hate myself for the sob that ends my sentence. I want to scream and hit him. But I know the minute I do, those men in the suits will be here to carry me out. That’s what she wants. I won’t give it to her. Not again.

  Once those cursed shoes are off, I use the wall behind me to pull myself to my feet. The door opens and chatter fills the hallway.