Begin Again: Allie and Kaden's Story

by Mona Kasten

  Kaden grumbled at my dismay, but then offered me a deal: First, I could choose the soundtrack for the ride.

  Second, he would help me pack.

  The latter task was as fun as it sounded. Because Kaden was much better organized than me. Within an hour we’d packed not only my bag, but his as well.

  And now here we were on the highway on the way to Portland. From the corner of my eye, I noticed how Kaden was moving his fingers to the beat, too. I could hardly suppress a giggle. For an instant he looked at me, frowning, before turning his eyes back to the road.

  “Why are you laughing like a fool?”

  I rolled my eyes. As if the music didn’t appeal to him at all, the way it did to me. “I think you like it as much as I do.”

  He sniffed. “The lyrics are bad, the sound disgusts me, and if I have to listen to a song where she complains about high school or one of her former boyfriends, I’m probably gonna puke.”

  That made me laugh even more.

  “All right,” I sighed after a while and opened the glove compartment. Rummaging through the CDs, I found one from Bon Iver that I loved, especially if I were in a somewhat quieter mood.

  Kaden seemed to appreciate it.

  “You’re looking forward to seeing your mom, aren’t you?” I ventured.

  And even if he just shrugged, his smile was answer enough.

  I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. I ignored it. My dream was just too perfect. The hand disappeared. Then it came back, stroked first my thigh, then rested on my hip …

  I jerked awake, my head grazing the ceiling of the car. I gasped. Vaguely, I realized that my seatbelt was no longer fastened. Turning to look next to me, I saw—Kaden’s bewildered face.

  It was just Kaden. Just him.

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “We made it,” he said, looking at me somewhat warily. But he didn’t ask for any explanations. And I was grateful for that.

  Looking out my window, I saw a small, white house with a welcoming, wraparound porch. There was a bench under the kitchen window, countless flower pots, and a gabled roof. A cozy atmosphere surrounded the whole place.

  “You grew up here?” I asked in awe and opened the passenger door so I could step out. Kaden did the same and already was standing next to me as I lifted my bag.

  “Partly. My parents divorced just after I turned eleven.” He crossed his arms behind his head and looked up at his mother’s house, wearing a crooked smile that didn’t seem all too happy. “After that I had to shuttle between her house here and my dad’s house at the other end of town.”

  I could see he was trying hard to hide his feelings. And as usual, Kaden was pretty bad at that.

  I heard a loud creak, and his face brightened. Now a real smile animated the lines around his eyes.

  “It’s a tragic story with lots of crying; not really right for this holiday, don’t you think, Kaden?” a woman’s voice called, and I turned in its direction.

  Kaden’s mother had opened the dark blue door and was standing on the porch. Right away I could see how much the two looked alike. She had the same hair, the same eyes and even the laugh lines—Kaden had inherited them from her. She was beautiful.

  Kaden bounded up the porch stairs and wrapped his arms around her. He was at least one and a half heads taller than she was, and lifted her up for a second, which made her laugh in surprise. When he put her down, she cupped Kaden’s face in her hands.

  “You need to shave! With this beard you look like a real man, and I’m not ready for that,” she said with a broad smile, so much like Kaden’s.

  “Come on, I haven’t changed that much since last time, Mom,” Kaden said, earning a mock punch on the shoulder. She then looked past him and saw me.

  “Come on up, Allie. I don’t bite,” she called out and waved me toward her.

  Still lost in thought, I was frozen in place for a few seconds before I joined the two on the porch. Kaden’s mom looked me up and down and reached out to embrace me. A moment later, she placed her hands on my shoulders and held me back a bit, for another look.

  My anxiety returned full-force, and my heart began to pound like crazy. I tried not to show it and looked back at her with a smile.

  “I’m Rachel. Pleased to meet you,” she announced. And I was surprised that she sounded like she meant it.

  “I’m Allie,” I answered, mustering another smile. “And the pleasure is all mine. Thanks for … taking me in.” Okay, that sounded sad. As if I were a lost puppy.

  “Nonsense!” Rachel waved a hand for me to follow her inside. “Thanks to you we won’t be in the minority tomorrow night, so I’m grateful for your company. Come on, I’ll show you the house.” She looked back over her shoulder to Kaden. “And since you already know your way around here, you can bring in the luggage while I take Allie on the tour.”

  Kaden saluted her like a soldier. I could see him rolling his eyes and trying not to grin.

  I followed Rachel into the house and looked around. It was just as charming from the inside.

  “This is the living room, over there’s the kitchen. All pretty manageable,” Rachel said as she headed for the stairs. The light wood creaked underfoot as we reached the second floor. We passed a few framed photos on the wall, pictures of Rachel with her sons. For the first time, I caught a glimpse of Kaden’s brother. There was an undeniable resemblance, but he had a paler complexion than Kaden’s and dark blond hair, to Kaden’s brown. I looked more closely. Kaden had been such a cute little boy, with his round face and chubby cheeks. His laughing expression was just as cheerful then as today. I smiled.

  When Rachel noticed that I’d stopped mid-staircase, she turned and came back down to look at the photo with me.

  “He was just knee-high to a grasshopper back then,” she sighed.

  “I think he’s grown up nicely,” I quipped, for lack of anything better to say.

  Now Rachel looked at me, a bright smile stealing over her face. “Yeah, right? He’s become a real man.”

  “You know I can hear you, right?” came Kaden’s voice from downstairs. And then I heard him drop our bags to the floor.

  Rachel ignored her son and shook her head.

  I laughed and followed her upstairs. We passed by a room that I figured was hers. She opened the second door at the end of the narrow hallway.

  “This’ll be your room,” she said, after we’d entered.

  It must have been Kaden’s bedroom. There were still a few traces of his teen years: blue walls with bits of old posters stuck to them and an old game console. Rachel obviously had gone to a lot of trouble to get the room ready for me. There was a vase of fresh flowers on the nightstand. She’d even put a couple of candies on the pillow.

  I nearly broke into tears. Luckily I was able to control it this time.

  “Thanks so much, Rachel,” I said. I’d wanted to give this warm-hearted, open woman much more than a mere “thank you,” but we’d only met a few minutes ago, and I didn’t know what was appropriate. So I just smiled and hoped it was enough for now.

  “Kaden’s friends are always welcome here,” she answered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And you are friends, of course.”

  Grasping the subliminal question, I raised my hands in a reassuring gesture. “We’re just friends.”

  Just at that moment the image of our first kiss replayed in my head, followed by our escapade last week. My cheeks flushed, and I swallowed. This kind of thing wouldn’t happen again. I’d made up my mind. It would be better to nip this flame in the bud before it could rage out of control. Because of our shared home, but even more so our new friendship, were too important to me—I couldn’t risk losing them.

  “It’s been a long time since he brought a girl home. I’d be really surprised if you weren’t someone very special to him.” Rachel sounded cheer
ful and relaxed, but her eyes revealed that she was trying to size me up. “Just don’t hurt him.”

  I opened my mouth to protest but then remembered Kaden’s reaction to the hearts scribbled across the CD. So I just nodded. “I don’t think I could, but I can assure you it’s the furthest thing from my mind.”

  She looked at me again, paused, and put her hand on my arm. “I think we’re going to get along well, Allie.”

  Then she swept out of the room and left me standing there.

  Kaden and his mother were too damned alike.

  Chapter 17

  No sooner had Rachel gone than Kaden brought my bag up and put it down next to the bed.

  “Thanks,” I said. And then I could only stare at his arms. He’d taken off his sweater, and his plain T-shirt revealed his tattoos, just as I liked it. Since he’d told me what they meant, I found them even more exciting.

  Damn Kaden with his damn sexy arms.

  “Sure.”

  I tore my eyes away and smiled at him. “Your mom is great.”

  Kaden rolled his eyes and sat down on his bed.

  I turned to face him and saw that he was already smiling again. The awful truth dawned on me: No sooner was Kaden back at home with his mom, than he became almost tame.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked right away, sensing a change in me.

  “About how happy it makes you to be here,” I answered in all honesty.

  Just a few days earlier I had doubted it was a good idea to go with Kaden to Portland. Now that I was here, I couldn’t imagine a more beautiful place to be.

  We spent a wonderful day together. Kaden finished the house tour while Rachel cooked. Eventually we joined her, but since Kaden’s mother hated giving up control in the kitchen, we just handed her the tools she asked for, and tried to stay out of her way.

  After downing an endless supply of mac ‘n’ cheese, we cleaned up. It was almost like being at home in Woodshill. I thought I could feel Rachel’s eyes on me, but didn’t pay any mind.

  “Feel like taking a walk?” Kaden whispered as we dried the dishes.

  “Are there mountains here that you want to chase me up? ‘Cause hiking shoes weren’t on the list of stuff to bring,” I teased.

  He leaned back against the sink, his hands on the counter behind him. “I thought I’d show you a few spots where I used to hang out. We could get a coffee or something.”

  Or something. I smiled. The Portland-Kaden was enchanting.

  “Why not.”

  He gave me a sidelong glance. “Why are you grinning like that?”

  I pressed my lips together. But I still couldn’t suppress my smile.

  He took his jacket from the closet and held the door open.

  “Later, Mom!” he called back over his shoulder. And then we stepped out into the cool autumn air.

  Portland in the fall was gorgeous and quite different from the other cities I’d visited so far.

  Kaden had grown up in a nice, cozy neighborhood. Everything looked well-kept, and as we walked toward the main road we saw several families, their small children zipping around on bikes. I watched them until they turned the corner, glad to have an excuse not to look at Kaden.

  I was ashamed. Not only because I would’ve been sitting alone in Woodshill if I hadn’t come here. To be honest, it was mostly because I couldn’t fight the tingling sensation that his nearness always triggered. The more I got to know him, the less firm my conviction seemed that we’d never be more than just friends.

  “Did you always live here?” I asked as we left the neighborhood.

  “Mom bought the house after the divorce. It was totally run down when we saw it for the first time, and I couldn’t imagine living here,” he answered.

  “Really? It doesn’t seem that way at all.”

  “We tried to do a lot ourselves, to save a little money. I wasn’t much help at that time.” Kaden shrugged. We were walking so close that I could feel him against my arm, and I increased the distance between us.

  Kaden stopped walking. “Oh come on,” he growled, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me back against him in a powerful motion. “What’s with you?”

  “Nothing,” I blurted out.

  His brow was furrowed. He looked down into my eyes. “You’re totally tense. I want to know why, so I can do something to help.”

  I cleared my throat and tried hard not to gaze at his mouth again. “You could keep a little space between us, Kaden.”

  Now he looked confused. It took a few seconds before he understood me. He let go as if he’d been burned. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable near me.”

  It was just the opposite. I felt way too good when I was near him. But I could hardly tell him that.

  “That’s not it, Kaden. I’m just a bit … self-conscious because of your mother.”

  He paused. “So that’s why you’re so tense? Because you’re worrying about what my mom might think?”

  I nodded. It was the perfect excuse, and I embraced it with open arms.

  “And here I thought I was smelling sweaty or something,” Kaden mused.

  I leaned forward and sniffed at him. “No, false alarm. But I’d tell your friends the opposite if they asked.” I gave him a shove. “Monica once told me you complained that I smelled bad.”

  Kaden snorted. “And you do.”

  I raised a brow.

  “I’m just being honest. We’ve already talked about your distorted sense of taste. You should be grateful that I’m so honest with you. Whenever we’re in the same room it smells like a candy factory exploded.”

  He dodged another shove from me, and started walking again. When I made no attempt to follow, he turned to me and jogged backward. “I wanted to show you the shop where I used to work. So stop sulking and start walking!”

  We were back to normal, and I was glad about it.

  “You worked here?” I leaned my head back and observed the battered sign with the words Bold Records painted on it in dark green. The paint was already peeling off at the edges, and the façade had seen better days, too. Still, I was curious how it looked inside. I’d never been in a record shop before.

  Kaden nodded and held the door open for me; our arrival was announced with a ring. Inside, soft rock music played, and I looked around in amazement. What seemed like endless shelves, all overflowing with vinyl records, filled every millimeter of space; light bulbs dangled down from the ceiling between lengths of white fabric, casting their glow on the CD stands in the middle of the shop.

  “This is amazing,” I murmured and went straight to the first shelf. I didn’t own a record player, but records had always held a certain fascination for me. As I moved down the aisle, I ran a finger along the backs of the albums. I stopped to look at one or another of them up close before sliding it back onto the shelf. When I came to the end of the first row, I turned to Kaden, who had followed me at a distance, and beamed at him. He grinned back and gestured with his chin to go on.

  In the back of the shop, a few steps led down to an area with comfortable furnishings. Here, too, the walls were covered with album covers. A patterned rug lay on the dark wood floorboards, and a leather chair and a sofa were arranged between a couple of boxes filled with CDs and records. CD players and headphones lay on large flat tables. Along the right-hand side of the room was a kitchenette with a coffee maker. A man stood in front of an open refrigerator and grabbed a Coke, while teens hung out on the sofas and nodded in time with the music. I’d never seen anything like it.

  Kaden walked past me to the coffee maker. He took two mugs from the shelf, filled them, and handed me one.

  “No creamer, unfortunately. And the coffee isn’t the best either, but … ” He left his sentenced unfinished and shrugged.

  “I love it here,” I reassured him. “Really, Kaden. I’d like to buy a
ll my favorite tracks on vinyl right now. And I don’t even have a record player.”

  “When I worked here, I felt the same way. But I had to save money for my car at the time. In addition, CDs take up less space. But someday when I have a bigger apartment, or maybe even a house, I’ll set up a huge music room.” He blew on his coffee and took a sip.

  For a moment we just grinned at each other. Then Kaden pointed with his cup toward the last free leather chair, located in the middle of the room.

  Kaden offered me the seat but I declined, instead getting comfortable on the broad backrest. Kaden sat down but slid over toward the side so we could face each other. He told me how, as a fourteen year old, he had spent nearly every afternoon here and eventually started to recommend music to customers. The owner, Trudy, had always chided him over it, but she also saw that he not only had good taste but also knew what he was talking about. By the time she asked him if he’d like a temp job, he already knew the store as well as the owner and agreed. Okay, at first he could only take deliveries and unpack the new releases, but even now his eyes sparkled when he remembered those days.

  After I’d finished my coffee, we went back up into the shop and looked at records. We found lots that we both wanted, but also some that Kaden sniffed at. I let him lead me to a listening station, where he put huge, black headphones on my head that instantly swallowed all the sounds around me. From a basket that stood between the listening stations he randomly picked out CDs and put them in the player, one after the other. If I liked what I heard, I would give it a thumbs-up. If not, the corners of my mouth turned down. By now, Kaden knew my taste pretty well. One album made my heart pound, because the songs—though old and forgotten—seemed so familiar. Beaming, I glanced up at Kaden. A satisfied smile spread across his lips.