She nodded, biting her lip. I knew it was killing her not to say anything, so I made it easier by turning my back and facing the wall. She left without a word.
***
Over the next few days, she looked on the verge of mentioning it, but I cut her off each time she tried until she finally let it go. I tried to make up my silence on the subject by throwing myself into helping her decorate the house for Christmas. The prospect of having company spurred us to deck out the house inside and out. Christmas lights twinkled on every tree outside and lighted garland adorned the fireplace and arched doorways. Mom baked every cookie imaginable while I strung popcorn and cranberries for the tree. Spicy cinnamon candles burned in every room tantalizing you with their scent.
"Well, what do you think?" Mom asked as she stacked the last present under the tree.
"It looks like Santa's Workshop threw up in here," I teased. "Kidding," I said when she shot me a dirty look. "It looks amazing."
"I think so too," she said, sinking down on the couch next to me with her cup of coffee.
"Thanks for letting Dad spend the holidays with us," I said, laying my head on her shoulder like I used to when I was little.
"I think it's the least I can do," she said.
"Well, I appreciate it," I said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.
She patted my knee while we watched the Christmas lights on the tree twinkle off and on.
"This is nice," I said after awhile.
"Yes, it is," she said, sounding sad.
"I'll visit, Mom, and you can come visit me. The mountain air will do you some good," I teased, expecting her to scoff at my suggestion.
"Maybe it would," she said thoughtfully.
"What? Seriously? Where's my beach-loving mom, and what have you done with her?"
She chuckled. "I'm just thinking, instead of hanging out at the beach on my summer vacation, I'll head up to camp Unlikely Allies and see if I can be of some help."
"Mom, that's so cool," I said, giving her a tight hug.
"Well, you've been singing its praises for months. I figured it's something I should be a part of."
"That's so awesome. Does Dad know?"
"Yes, we've chatted about it quite a lot on the phone," she admitted, sheepishly.
"Really?" I asked, taking in the pinkish tint that was creeping up her cheeks. "Is there something going on I should know about?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off when the doorbell rang. "Saved by the bell," she muttered as she hurried to the door with a definite bounce in her step.
"I wouldn't count on it," I warned.
She rolled her eyes uncharacteristically, making me laugh. "Rick, it's nice to see you," she said, opening the door for him.
"Kate, merry Christmas," he said, pulling her in for a warm hug that lasted longer than the traditional hug. I watched their exchange from across the room. I was definitely missing something. After a moment, they reluctantly parted and Rick turned to me.
"Merry Christmas, kiddo," he said, pulling me in for a hug.
"Merry Christmas, Dad," I said, fighting the sudden tears that sprang to my eyes. I was so glad to see him, but at the same time, my heart twisted painfully inside me. He represented a part of something I could no longer have. I needed to learn to separate him from the category that I grouped both him and Mason in. Mason was part of my old life and held no place in my new life, but Rick would forever be a part of me.
"It's good to see you," he said warmly, pulling back.
"You too," I said. "Of course, I'm sensing I'm a little out of the loop on a few things," I said, quirking my eyebrows at them both.
Both feigned innocence and I was about to tell them I could see through their ploy when the doorbell rang again.
"Kim, can you get that?" Mom said, leading Rick into the room to see the tree.
"Sure, it's probably Car. We said our goodbyes the other day, but..." I started to say, but my words stuck in my throat when I threw open the door. I stared speechless at the person on our porch as if he was a ghost.
"Hello, beach bunny," he said huskily, leaning on a cane.
"You're late," I said, holding back my tears, taking in his appearance. His light hair was longer than it was the last time I'd seen him, and he looked leaner, but the rest of him was all the same. Looking at him, I realized that all my drawings hadn't done him justice.
"It took a little longer than I thought to find my way," he said, taking a step toward me. "I needed to be able to walk to you on my own," he added, taking yet another step closer to me, bringing us a breath away from each other. "That's if you'll have me," he added quietly, studying me intently.
"If you ever do that to me again, I'll hunt you down and make you sorry," I threatened as a single tear streaked down my cheek.
"Trust me, bunny, I'm not going anywhere," he said before sweeping me into his arms.
I sighed with pleasure when his lips claimed mine. Here was the spark I had been missing. He ran his hand up behind my neck, anchoring me in place as he deepened the kiss.
I lost all track of time until in the foggy recesses of my mind I heard someone clearing their throat.
"Oops," I said, pulling back slightly, but not releasing my hold on him.
He slid an arm around my waist and we walked into my house to find my parents eyeing us, knowingly.
"You knew?" I accused my mom, feigning anger.
"Yes, I knew at Thanksgiving, but I had to be sure that you were basing your life on choices you wanted, and not ones that were ruled by some feelings about some guy," she answered. "Call it my motherly right. I wanted to tell you after I realized that despite thinking things were over with Mason, you still planned on transferring to Colorado, but I promised Mason I wouldn't say anything," she admitted.
"I appreciate it, Ms. Hanson," Mason said warmly.
"I've told you, call me Kate," she chastised.
"Okay, I appreciate you keeping my secret, Kate," he said with the twinkle I loved in his eye.
"Just don't hurt my girl again," she warned.
"I promise," he said, tucking me more securely under his arm.
"That's all I ask. Now, let's get your stuff and we can eat some lunch," she said, heading for the door. Rick followed behind and I watched as he reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers.
"What do you think of that?" Mason asked, following my stare.
"I think it's pretty fabulous," I admitted, facing him.
He dipped down to place a kiss at the corner of my mouth before trailing his lips along my jaw line. Goose bumps popped up along my arms and my breath quickened at the feelings he was evoking in me.
"I've been dreaming about doing this for months," he mumbled against my neck right below my ear and I shivered in anticipation.
"I have to tell you something. I lied to you this summer," I told him.
"You did?" he asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'm not in like with you," I said as his lips paused their exploring. "I'm in love with you," I admitted with shining eyes.
"I'm I love with you too, beach bunny," he said as his lips claimed mine.
Epilogue
The bus chugged to a stop twenty yards from us, making dust billow up around the tires in the warm air. I couldn't help marveling at the differences in temperatures from this summer and the one the year before. Mason stood beside me with my hand clasped in his. His prosthetic leg was a couple shades lighter than his skin. I had teased him the first time he pulled a pair of cargo shorts that he was going to have to get a tan prosthetic leg for summertime.
As if reading my mind, he tilted my chin up and dropped a kiss on my lips. I smiled wickedly at him when we parted and I licked my lips. I laughed when his eyes narrowed. It would be a long six weeks in our separate cabins.
"Ew, get a room pervs," Amy said, coming up to join us.
Mom ignored our exchange as she stood nervously on my other side. I couldn't help smiling as I recalled my own ne
rvousness from the previous summer. I reached over and clasped her hand. "You got this," I told her, echoing words from so long ago.
She shot me a stilted smile, resting her free hand against her slightly rounded stomach. She and Rick had been nervous as hell to break the news to Mason and me after their spring wedding, wondering if it would be too much too soon.
"It's a good thing you're married," I had admonished, before breaking into a big smile as Mason clasped Rick into a tight congratulatory hug.
"We know we're older," she dragged out, obviously embarrassed about her age.
"Mom, women in their forties have been having babies for years. There's nothing special about you," I had teased, easing her fears.
I watched her now as she nervously waited for the bus to empty. "They're going to love you, Mom," I reassured her, giving her hand a squeeze as the doors of the bus opened.
Still clutching Mason's hand, I stepped forward underneath the Unlikely Allies sign and waited for my girls to disembark. I couldn't help laughing when they piled off the bus and surrounded me with their high-pitched chatter.
My eyes grew misty when Alyssa finally disembarked. She stood for a moment at the last step of the bus, uncertainty covering her face. When we made eye contact, she looked away quickly, as if she wanted to make a mad dash somewhere. I made my way through the crowd and stopped in front of her and opened my arms. She studied me for a moment and I swear I saw her eyes watering up, just a bit. She stepped forward into my embrace and hugged me tight.
“I’m sorry about last summer,” she mumbled, finally pulling back.
“Hey, it’s water under the bridge. Besides, what happens at UA stays at UA, right?” I said, draping my arm across her shoulder so I could propel her to the center of the group where she belonged.
Looking up, my eyes met Mason's and he smiled proudly at me.
“All right campers,” Dad bellowed into the megaphone, getting everyone's attention. “Girls, ages ten to twelve, you’re with Amy and Kimberly, my daughter, in cabin Raven,” he said, pointing to where Amy and I were standing. “Girls, thirteen to fifteen, you’re with Liz and my wife, Kate, in cabin Sparrow,” he said with sparkling eyes, pointing to Mom. “Boys ten to twelve, you’re with Travis and Ryan in cabin Blue Jay, and boys, thirteen to fifteen, you’re in cabin Eagle with Mason and John. Gather your belongings and head to your cabins. We’ll meet back out here at ten for orientation," he finished before joining us under the Unlikely Allies sign.
Other works by Tiffany King
Meant to Be: The Saving Angels book 1
Forgotten Souls: The Saving Angels book 2
The Ascended: The Saving Angels book 3
Wishing For Someday Soon
Forever Changed
Miss Me Not
Jordyn: A Daemon Hunter Novel book 1
Jordyn and the Caverns of Gloom: A Daemon Hunter Novel book 2
Cross Country Christmas: A Woodfalls Girls Novella
No Attachments: A Woodfalls Girls Novel
Misunderstandings, coming May 6, 2014
Contradictions, coming December 2014
Enjoy this excerpt from
Forever Changed
By
Tiffany King
Kassandra
“There are moments in everyone’s life that define the type of person you are, and the person you will become,” or so my dad always says—used to say, I corrected myself, kicking at the pile of discarded clothes at my feet. Ugh, how do you pick the right outfit to wear to your own father’s funeral? The words clanked through my head like a roller coaster ratcheting up the track. This was a decision I could use my mother’s help with, but she had spent the past few days adrift in a medicated stupor. She collapsed at the hospital after the no-nonsense surgeon came into the waiting room, informing us that the internal bleeding from the accident was too extensive. His words instantly snuffed out all the hope and optimism we had been clinging to, and in one life changing-moment, my father was gone.
I could ask my grandma for help, but I couldn’t handle the way her eyes swam with tears when she looked at me. As it was, I already felt like I was hanging on to a sinking life preserver, without her dragging me down farther. Her pain was understandable. My father had been her only son. I considered asking my Aunt Donna since she stoically refused to cry, which would have been refreshing amidst the sea of tears that surrounded me, but even she had finally broken down.
Finally giving up, I pulled out the black eyelet ankle length skirt my mom and dad bought me when they spent their twentieth anniversary in Spain the previous year. The skirt brought back bittersweet memories for me. I was jealous when they planned their vacation abroad without me, but my dad pacified me by promising a month-long excursion across Europe once I graduated. That was my father. I could act like a jerk, but I was still daddy’s little girl. I swiped at the hot tears that trailed down my cheek, wishing I could somehow go back in time and take that moment back. There would be no take-backs, though. No second chances and no more plans for the future, only a yesterday full of memories. Gathering my wits before the sobs could over take me, I pulled on a black camisole and my favorite black loose weave sweater. My make-up, I kept minimal, not feeling up to putting in the effort I usually spent on my appearance. My dad would have been pleased. He had preferred the “au naturel” look, as he called it, always telling me, “You’re beautiful enough without all the extra junk.” My friends, on the other hand, would be horrified, but I couldn’t find the will to care. There were so many other important things that required my attention.
First and foremost being my little sister, Megan.
Megan had been a surprise addition to our family four years ago. I was twelve, almost thirteen, when my parents sat me down with the news that my mom was pregnant, that they had been trying for years to give me a sibling. New to the idea of where babies came from, I remember being appropriately grossed out at their phrasing of “trying for years.” Once my gag factor was under control, I was actually excited at the idea of having a real-life dress-up doll. That novelty was short lived though. After a few years, I realized that babies really didn’t do much and high school began to consume my life anyway. Megan proved to be a cute baby and an even more adorable toddler, but friends, cheerleading, and my new fascination with boys consumed my every waking moment. Megan would toddle around behind me, chanting my name in her cute little lisp as I fluttered around the house always on my way out the door. Except for the mandatory Friday family nights, which my parents insisted on, during which, I spent the majority of the time texting my friends, I had barely interacted with Megan over the last year. I regretted every single one of those texts now, yearning for just one more family Friday night.
As I left my room, I could hear the low mumble of my aunts talking while my grandma sobbed quietly behind the closed door of her guest room. I headed toward my parents suite and paused outside the door, knocking gently before entering. My mom was curled up on the side of the bed that my dad used to occupy. Her eyes were wide open and she was fully dressed, but she stared blankly into space, looking more lost than I had ever seen her. She was clutching my dad’s favorite shirt between her hands. The entire room was filled with reminders of her former best friend and true love: A closet filled with clothes, the remote control that sat on his nightstand because he loved to watch TV while lying in bed, and the familiar smell of his favorite cologne that still filled the room, all of which pinched my heart as I perched on the bed beside her. I reached over and gently grabbed onto her hand, yearning for her reassurance that everything would be alright, but her hand remained nothing more than a dead fish in mine.
“Are you going to get Megan ready?” I asked.
She finally pulled her eyes from the blank spot beyond, focusing on my face. Her body began to shake slightly as silent sobs turned to tears welling up in her eyes. Her grief caused my own pain to rear its ugly head. I jumped to my feet, not wanting to be sucked in. Someone had to remain strong here
.
“Never mind, I got it,” I mumbled, exiting the room before the despair that growled deep in my stomach could claw its way out.
Megan’s room was several doors down the hall from mine. When she was three, Megan begged my parents for the room directly across from mine, but I balked at the idea of having her so close, feeling she would cramp my style. Yet another decision I wish I could retract.
Walking into Megan’s room was like stepping into the ultimate princess getaway. My parents let her re-do her bedroom on her fourth birthday. All her baby stuff was stored away and her room was completely redesigned to celebrate her new “big girl” status. The room was dressed in plush purple carpeting and soft pink walls adorned with pictures of fairies and princesses, and even her very own “Mirror Mirror on the Wall.” They bought her a beautiful sleigh bed made of mahogany with a matching wardrobe and highboy dresser, but what really brought it all together was an elaborate mural of a castle and its grounds decorating the eastern wall of the room. Megan absolutely squealed with delight when she saw it the first time, completely forgetting about her previous desire to inhabit the room closest to mine.
She was still in her nightgown when I entered, sitting in her reading corner with one of her favorite chapter books resting on her narrow knees. Megan was gifted in reading, devouring anything she could get her hands on and could already read at a fifth-grade level. Keeping her in age appropriate books proved to be a challenge. The shelves in her room overflowed with books that I could remember reading when I was much older.
“Hey, Peanut,” I said, sinking onto the foot of the velvet plum-colored chaise lounge were she perched.
Her slender shoulders stiffened at my words, but her gaze remained fixated on the pages in front of her. I cringed at the glaring dark bruise on her forehead and her white plaster encased arm, all evidence of the traumatic experience she had been through. The hospital could have at least given her pink or some other colored cast.
Kiss Kiss Page 71
