Echoes of You

by Margaret McHeyzer

  “I have a better idea. You rinse, and I’ll stack. I like the dishwasher stacked a certain way. It irritates me when it’s not done right,” I say.

  “I’m okay with that.”

  “Here, I’ll help.” Tina starts bringing dishes over and places them in the kitchen sink. Preston remains seated, still obviously seething at Dylan calling him out. Is he ashamed? Is that why he danced around the question?

  “I have to go. Thank you for dinner,” Preston says as he stands.

  “Oh, you’re welcome,” Mom replies.

  “Nice meeting you, Preston,” Dad says.

  “Have a good night.” He gives my parents a curt nod, and heads out. His entire exit is short, and abrupt.

  “Good night,” I call.

  “Bye,” Dylan shouts.

  The front door closes and we know he’s gone.

  Tina stands in the kitchen, looking between us, and the front door. “Thanks a lot,” she bitterly spits. “Preston, wait.” She runs out after him, leaving us all quite shocked by her hasty departure.

  “What just happened?” I ask.

  Dad looks to Dylan, then me. He doesn’t want to say anything in front of Dylan. Dylan notices how my parents are looking at each other, having a silent conversation.

  “I have to go too. I’ve got some work I need to get done tonight.” He dries his hands on a kitchen towel, then approaches Mom. “Thank you so much for dinner. Truly delicious.”

  “You’re welcome. Any time you want to use my kitchen, you’re more than welcome.”

  “Thank you, Paris.” He leans down and gives Mom a kiss on the cheek. Then he heads over to Dad. Dad stands, and begins to walk Dylan out. “Thank you for inviting me into your home, sir. It was a pleasure meeting you. And I’ll talk to Dad about a dinner. I’m sure you both have a lot to talk about.” He extends his hand, and Dad shakes it happily.

  “Looking forward to it. Drive safe, Dylan.”

  “Thank you, sir. I will.” We both walk out together. The moment the door shuts, Dylan lets out a large breath. “I’m going to sound like an insecure high schooler. But I hope your parents like me.”

  “They do. I can tell.” I exhale deeply. “Was Preston avoiding your question about his parents?”

  “Yeah, he was. It went downhill really fast after that.”

  “I have to say, I’m more convinced he’s not a good guy.” I can feel it in my bones.

  “Oh, he’s not.”

  I look at Dylan. “What makes you so sure?” my question is asked too forcefully. “Sorry.” I hold a hand up stopping him from responding. “I didn’t mean to sound nasty.”

  “I know.” He adds in a small smile. “It’s experience. Look, if it makes you feel more comfortable, I can ask around, see what I can find out.”

  I feel like his offer, although it’s made with good intentions, is wrong. But I can’t help wanting to make sure Preston is indeed good enough for my sister. “I don’t want to say yes. I’d be devastated if Tina did that to you. I would hope that she, and my parents trusted my judgement.”

  “I don’t have to ask around. But there’s something that’s definitely not right. He was cagey and elusive when I asked him about his parents. Maybe there’s nothing there, and he doesn’t want us knowing how successful they are.” He shrugs.

  It doesn’t make sense. Why would he be embarrassed by his parents? “No, you really shouldn’t.” I’m trying to convince myself more than Dylan. “It’s an invasion of Tina’s privacy.”

  “It is. And it’s something you have to live with if I do it. At the same time, you’ll have to live with yourself if I don’t and there’s something really wrong with him.”

  I lean against his car, and run my hands through my hair. I don’t know what to do. I’d hate Tina if she did something like this to me. And I’m positive, it would take me a long time to forgive her. It would cause a rift in our relationship, and it would never really be the same again. “I don’t know what to do,” I say as I rub my temples.

  “You have to go with your heart, Molly.” Dylan moves in front of me, cradling me in a tight embrace. Resting my head on his chest, I listen to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat. “There’s no right or wrong decision. Whatever you decide has consequences.”

  “And that’s what I’m telling myself.” I exhale, frustrated at myself, and angry at Tina for putting me in this position to start with. “Can I think about it?”

  “Absolutely. There’s no pressure from me. The offer is there, and when you’re ready with whatever decision is most comfortable for you, just let me know.” He kisses the top of my head. “But Molly, I really do have to go,” he says.

  “I know. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

  He leans down, lacing his hands in my hair. His lips brush against mine. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow night, right?”

  “Of course.”

  He kisses me, making my tummy flip, and my heart beat quickly.

  Dylan gets in the car, and leaves.

  I really, really like him.

  Heading inside, Mom and Dad are sitting in the dining room. Zhen’s still asleep by the back door, and Zorro is laying at Dad’s feet.

  “Is it me, or are there red flags with Preston?” I ask.

  “Yeah, there are some huge red flags. Something doesn’t sit quite right with me about him,” Mom says. Dad nods.

  “Tina’s with him, and I’m scared.”

  “We’ll talk to her when she gets home,” Dad says.

  “Um, I’m not sure what to do,” I say, pulling out a chair and sitting opposite my parents.

  “With what?” Dad asks. He picks his coffee cup up, and sips.

  “Dylan offered to do some investigation on his parents. I don’t want to say yes, but a part of me knows by Preston’s reaction, he’s hiding something.”

  “He is. He certainly became uncomfortable when Dylan started asking questions. I can tell you, Preston wasn’t happy with those questions,” Mom says.

  “Should I let Dylan dig around? If I’m being honest, I wouldn’t forgive you or Tina if either of you did it to me.”

  “It’s not about invading her privacy. It’s about keeping her safe. And if she’s with someone who’s either not going to do everything in his power to make sure she’s safe, or, if he’s going to use her for something, then we need to know,” Dad says. “Either way, Tina will be hurt. If we do nothing, and he tries to extort money or sex out of her, she’ll be hurt. If we poke around and find nothing, then she’ll be hurt we didn’t trust her.”

  I feel physically sick. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I think it’s a good idea if you take him up on his offer. We’d like you to do it,” Mom says.

  I nod my head.

  My parents are right. Either way, this sucks.

  “It’s time.”

  “No, I don’t want to go.”

  “You can hear the music, can’t you?” the boy in the white t-shirt asks.

  “I can’t hear it. I’m not going.”

  “Take the bunny, Neve. You have to do this. We go over this every time.” He’s frustrated with me. “This is why we’re here. We need to protect her. We each have a role to play.”

  Startled, I wake covered in sweat. “What was that?” I ask.

  Zhen stands and comes to lay right beside me, his head lying on my lap.

  Blinking, I try adjusting my sight in the dark.

  I try to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, I see images of the stupid white rabbit. I sit up, push the covers off me and head downstairs to get a glass of water. Turning the faucet on, I pour water into my glass, and take a huge gulp.

  I hear the front door open. Placing my glass on the counter, I walk to the foyer to see who’s sneaking out, or sneaking in. I suspect I know which and who.

  “Tina,” I say as she tries to close the door as quietly as possible.

  “Shit!” She jumps when I call her name. “Are you waiting up for m
e?” she attacks me verbally, like I’m doing something wrong.

  “No, I was getting a drink of water. Had a dream, or nightmare…I’m not sure.”

  She looks me up and down, and steps forward. “Are you okay?”

  I shrug. “I can’t remember all of it. Except for this stupid white rabbit.” I’m getting so disheartened, because I don’t know why I keep seeing it.

  “Like Alice in Wonderland?”

  I chuckle. “I wish, but no. A stuffed rabbit. Anyway, where were you?”

  “Ugh, stop trying to control me,” she grunts at me through a tight jaw.

  “Hey. Stop this shit, Tina. I’m not trying to control you. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’re so different.”

  She walks past me, about to ascend the staircase. I grab her upper arm to stop her leaving. “Ahh,” she cries out in pain.

  “What the hell?” I pull her back, and lift her shirt sleeve. There’s a large bruise on her arm. “How did this happen? Did Preston hurt you?”

  “What? Don’t be stupid, Molly. I walked into a door knob.” She stares me straight in the eyes, and I can see she’s lying to my face.

  “You walked into a door knob? Is that the bullshit story you’re sticking to?”

  “It’s the truth,” her voice elevates.

  “I’ve never seen a door knob that high. Unless you were pushed into it. And do me a favor, yell as loud as you want, because it’ll wake Mom and Dad.”

  We both look up the staircase to see if they’ve woken. She holds her breath, and I secretly will them to wake. “I swear, it’s not what it looks like.”

  “Yeah? How do you think it appears to me?”

  “You think Preston hits me. He doesn’t. He loves me, so much. He told me he’s never felt like this about anyone.”

  “I’m sure,” I say sarcastically. “Which is why you’ve got a bruise, because he loves you, right?”

  She steps closer to me. Her jaw is tense and there’s a wild fire burning in her eyes. “It was just a stupid accident. I was being dumb, asking him questions about his parents, he got mad and shoved me aside. See? I was stupid. He said he was sorry. That’s all it is.”

  “That’s all it is? You can’t be so blinded by him that you don’t see this is a form of domestic violence.”

  “He said he was sorry,” she says again through a clenched jaw. “Drop it, okay?”

  “I can’t let this go, Tina. He’s dangerous. He’s already making us fight over him. Is he really worth hurting all of us?”

  She steps back, and clutches at the balustrade. Her grip around it tightens. “You’d make me choose? He’d never make me choose between you and him.” She shakes her head and takes one step up the staircase. “And you call him the monster.” Turning, she walks up the stairs.

  “I never said he was a monster, Tina. Those are your words.” She pauses for a second, then runs up the stairs.

  Standing at the bottom of the stairs looking up, I know asking Dylan to look into his past and his parents is the best decision I’ve ever made. Tina may end up hating me, but I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure she doesn’t become another statistic to domestic violence.

  Pressing the buzzer to Dylan’s apartment, a huge yawn escapes me. “Hey, I’ll be down in a second. Let yourself in.” The door unlocks and I walk into the foyer. I press the button for the elevator, and wait.

  The elevator descends, and the doors open. It’s empty, Dylan must be waiting for it. I head up to his floor, and when the doors open, Dylan’s standing, waiting for it. “Hey,” I say when I see him.

  “I was going to come get you.”

  “I know my way.”

  “I hope you’re hungry.” He scoops me up, and twirls me around. Burying his head in my hair, he sniffs. “You smell like vanilla.”

  “It’s my shampoo.”

  He puts me down, and links our fingers together as we walk to his apartment. “It reminds me of ice cream. Damn, now I want ice cream.”

  “Pizza first,” I say.

  “After dinner, I think we head downtown and get ice cream.”

  “If you want. I’m not really an ice cream fan.” He stops walking, and I hear him gasp. “What?’ I ask as I turn to see if he’s alright.

  “You’re not an ice cream fan? Are you kidding? Who in their right mind isn’t an ice cream fan? I’m not sure I can do this…” he jokes.

  I lift my shoulders. “I’ve never really been an ice cream lover.”

  “Are you more a cheese and crackers girl?”

  “I’m a lover of all foods. Just not a huge fan of ice cream.”

  “Nope.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Nope, not good enough. Ice cream is the nectar of the Gods.” He opens the door and his father is sitting in the living room watching TV. “She’s not a fan of ice cream, Dad. I’m not sure about this.”

  “Hello, Molly.” His dad stands and makes his way over to me. “Nice to see you again. Although this time, it’s official.” He leans in and gives me a small kiss on the cheek.

  “Mr. Walker, it’s nice to see you too.”

  “Please, it’s Mark. Now what’s this nonsense of you not liking ice cream? Who doesn’t like ice cream? I thought the entire population of the world…actually the universe likes ice cream.”

  I slowly lift my shoulders and grin. “Sorry, I’m not a big fan,” I say. “It’s okay, but I don’t love it.”

  “Son, this one will have to be converted. We can’t have a member of the family not liking ice cream.”

  “You know it, Dad,” Dylan says from the kitchen. “I bet she’s never had ice cream that’s used as a dip for popcorn, either.”

  “How can you call this living? I can’t deal with all this crazy talk,” Mark says. He turns to me, stares me straight in the eyes and says, “Tell me you’ve tried ice cream and popcorn?” He slightly lowers his chin, bursting with anticipation.

  “I’m afraid not. Ice cream and popcorn? These are flavor combinations I can’t quite wrap my head around.”

  “And you’re not a pineapple on pizza gal either, right?” Mark asks.

  “Oh no, I like pineapple on pizza. I also like grapes in my salad. And peanut butter and banana together.”

  “There may be hope for her,” Mark calls to Dylan.

  Dylan chuckles from the kitchen. “Pizzas are nearly done, just another few moments. Molly, do you want to help with setting the table?”

  “Now I have a question for you both to see if I actually do belong here.”

  “Oh.” Mark puffs his chest out. “Please, ask away.’

  “Forks and knives, or hands for pizza?”

  Dylan and Mark look at each other. “You’re right, this will confirm if you’re a little bit crazy, or a lot crazy. What’s your answer?” Mark asks.

  “Hang on, I asked the question. I don’t know, you two may be in a league of your own here.” I point to Mark, then Dylan. Dylan’s smiling as he takes one of the pizzas out of the oven.

  “No cutlery. Hands only,” Mark answers.

  “Okay, then I’m not in a house with crazy people. You’ll do,” I tease.

  Mark hugs me while laughing. “You’re alright, Molly.”

  “Dinner’s done. Let me cut these up and we’re ready to go.”

  Dylan brings the pizzas over to the table. “How many people are you feeding?” I ask when he places a third on the table. Sure, they’re much smaller than normal pizzas, but still that’s a lot of food.

  “I take leftovers to work,” Dylan says.

  “And I take leftovers home too,” Mark adds. “I heard you enjoyed the curry my son made you.”

  “It was delicious. I’m looking forward to more meals I’ve never had before.”

  “Make her something Greek,” Mark says to Dylan.

  Dylan’s eyes light up. “Oh yeah. Yum. Stuffed tomatoes and lemon and herb potatoes.”

  My mouth salivates. “Oh my God. Yes, make those,” I beg not even knowing what they
are, but dying to try them. They sound delicious.

  Dylan sits beside me, and Mark opposite us. Dylan rests his hand on my thigh. I like it when he does that. “I wanted to ask, what happened with Tina?”

  My shoulders slump as I sigh. “It’s not good. She came home early this morning, snuck in actually. I was downstairs getting some water, and I heard her. She was defensive, and short with me. I found a bruise on her arm.”

  “Oh,” Mark sighs. “That’s not a good sign.”

  “I’m worried for her,” I say. “I haven’t told Mom and Dad yet, because I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to push her further away, but I’m terrified of what might happen. She said it was an accident, but I’m not stupid. I know this is a sign of violence.”

  “You have to tell your parents. That’s a given,” Dylan says. “And I’ve started looking into Preston and his parents. It’s a bit challenging, but I know someone who’s going to help out with that.”

  “Are you asking Gemma?” Mark asks Dylan.

  “Gemma? Your cousin?” I look to Dylan. He nods. “Why would you be asking Gemma to help?”

  “You don’t know?” Mark asks.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I met her; she seems lovely. I really like her.”

  “Gemma’s a private investigator,” Dylan says. “And a damn good one too.”

  “She is?” I’m shocked. I had no idea, I suppose that’s what makes a good investigator, being unassuming.

  “Yeah, I’ve already talked to her, and she’s on board. She’s working on another job, but she’ll find a way to fit us in.”

  “She’s very good, she can find out things most people think are dead and buried. She has a nose for it,” Mark says. “If there’s anything to find, you can be sure she’ll find it.”

  I feel uneasy. I shouldn’t involve them. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like the pizza?” Dylan asks looking at the piece on my plate that I haven’t touched yet.

  “It’s not that.” I turn my head, averting my gaze.

  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

  “Excuse me, kids. Nature calls at the worst of times.” Mark stands and walks away from the table. But I know he’s just going to the bathroom so Dylan and I can talk.