Twist of Fate

by Louise, Tia

  “Sly.” I shake my wobbly head. “I don’t want to bring him back.”

  “Yes, you do. Liar.” She scowls fiercely and a little buzzedly. “Stop fighting your fate. It says here we need a candle…” She walks over to the kitchen counter and picks up a pink jar candle. “Done. Oakmoss and rose quartz…”

  “Which we do not have.”

  “I have rose quartz in my massage supplies. I use it to set the mood.” I squint one eye, but she keeps reading. “Rose petals and biological matter from the lost one. It is for finding people! I knew it!” She jumps up and down clutching the book to her chest.

  “We don’t have half of this stuff. How will we get biological matter?”

  “A piece of Melody’s hair. She’s fifty percent his!”

  “I think that’s pushing it, and I don’t like dragging my baby into this. What if something… goes wrong?”

  “You do believe.” Her eyes flare, and my stomach tingles. Maybe I do?

  Sly deposits the book on the table and takes off up the stairs. “I think there are rose petals in the potpourri jar up here, and I bet oakmoss too!”

  Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting on the back porch facing each other with our legs crossed and a ceramic bowl in front of us. Sly drew a big chalk circle with a pentagram inside around us. The sky is dark with the full moon glowing so bright. Stars wink around it.

  “It’s a beautiful night.” I gaze at the expanse.

  It’s one of those nights where the wind carries the scent of the ocean to us. It’s a staccato breeze, switching between short and strong bursts. The temperature is perfect for sitting outside in a tank top and skirt, and with my cousin’s red hair swirling around her face, it feels magical.

  “Are you ready to make it happen?” My cousin raises her eyebrows and threads our fingers together. “Here’s to fixing the future.”

  “I feel like we shouldn’t mess with the future.” That terrible movie with Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta flits through my mind. Then I think about how Scout and I were the only two who knew all the words to that song, and the memory of his blue eyes closing as he belted out the words with me makes my stomach squeeze. I would like to find him again.

  “Close your eyes and repeat after me.”

  My heart beats faster, but I do what she says.

  “Keeper of what disappears, hear me now, open your ears.” She pauses, and I repeat the words. “Find for me what I now seek by moon, sun, earth, air, fire, and sea.”

  I repeat the rest, and as if on cue, a strong breeze sweeps past us, blowing out the candle and sending my hair in my face.

  “It worked!” Sly hisses, and my eyes pop open.

  I look around at the clouds rolling in and shake my head. “It’s just the storm rolling in. It’s going to rain tonight.”

  “No, it worked.” Her voice goes louder, and she jumps up, putting her arm around my shoulder. “You’re not going anywhere. What you seek will come to you.”

  My mind drifts across the miles, and I remember the night I looked at Scout and decided he was magical. Am I magical, too?

  “Whatever.” I lie. “I don’t believe in spells.”

  “Get ready to change your mind. More tequila!” She grabs my hand, pulling me towards the house. I look back as she runs through the door at the star on the back porch and the extinguished candle. A twist is in my chest, and I wonder if it could be fate.

  Looking up at the clouds quickly sliding across the stars. One is left, and I make a wish.

  Twenty-One

  Scout

  “Feels like fucking Africa out here.” My brother lifts the beer he’s holding and takes a long pull.

  A fast-moving storm blew in overnight, and now it’s too warm and too sticky as we stand at the Tuna Tiki’s outdoor bar. The live band is playing the same reggae songs you know by heart, and as the sweat rolls down my sides, I feel like this was a mistake.

  When I called J.R. yesterday, I hadn’t talked to André. I didn’t know about Daisy’s daughter or Sheriff Chad or the fact she has probably moved on, settled down with a guy who, as much as I hate to admit it, sounds pretty decent.

  J.R. slides a bowl of nuts over. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “I don’t know.” My insides are off. I should go back to L.A.

  The band starts playing “I Wanna Love You” by Bob Marley, and prickly heat is on the back of my neck. It makes me angry.

  “You think they get tired of playing the same songs all the time?” My eyes land on a couple drunkenly dancing all over each other on the dance floor.

  “Not if they’re getting paid.” My brother crosses his arms and studies me. “Something’s on your mind. Spill it.”

  Exhaling deeply, I signal for a fresh beer. “I’ve just been thinking a lot.”

  “That sounds dangerous.” He shifts on his stool, exhaling a laugh.

  I study our reflections in the mirror behind the bar. His dark hair is a bit long and shaggy around his face. A scruff of beard covers his cheeks. I’m fairer by contrast, a little taller, leaner, but we’ve got the same blue eyes. He’s only a year older than me, and he’s got it all figured out.

  “I was thinking about second chances. How’d you do it?”

  His blue eyes turn serious. “You know how close I came to losing everything. I got lucky.”

  What we went through to get here filters through my memory. “Luck and hope.” That provokes a faint smile, but I’m not feeling it. “I think I used up all my luck.”

  “How so?”

  “After that porn shit, I was pretty much DOA. If it weren’t for luck, I’d never have turned my acting career around.”

  He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t call that luck. You trusted the wrong guy and got screwed.”

  “It was luck. Same as what happened to you was luck.” I lift my beer and take a long drink. Thinking back, I realize just how much luck I used up to get as far as I did.

  I’m going to have to find another way.

  His brow furrows. “But this new part will lead to more, right? Isn’t that how it works out there?”

  “I’m not talking about work, though. I’m talking about personal shit.”

  “Have you talked to Dad?”

  Bitterness burns in my throat, but he’s not pushing me. His tone is completely neutral.

  “No.”

  Lifting his chin, he nods. “Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.”

  “I’ve heard that.” Turning, I put my elbows on the bar thinking about all the ways that motherfucker screwed us.

  He didn’t help J.R. when he needed it. He didn’t help me. Hell, he did just the opposite. He tried to make off with our trust fund. My jaw clenches, and I’m not sure I can ever forgive what he did.

  “Jesse said you wanted to help with his football team?”

  “It’s more like Jesse wants me to help with his football team.”

  “I wouldn’t mind having an assistant.” J.R. gives me a smug grin like he’s just waiting to bust my balls.

  “Send me the job description of what being your assistant entails, and I’ll let you know.”

  He laughs, polishing off his beer. “Practice starts next week. You’re welcome to come out and join us.”

  “Maybe I will.” My voice is quiet as I contemplate the reason I asked him here. “I’m thinking about a girl.”

  “Anybody I know?”

  The answer dies on my lips when I see the door open, and a pretty blonde steps into the bar. She’s in a coral-pink crop-top that shows off her stomach, lined with a navel ring, and tight-fitting blue jeans. I don’t remember a navel ring. It’s delicate on her tight skin and heat flashes below my belt.

  Her hair is like it always was, short with little curls around her cheeks and ears, and her lips are so full and shiny. Seeing her this way is a punch in the stomach. She looks so much the same, like no time has passed. My chest tightens, and the air is too thick to breathe.

  “Daisy.”
/>
  I don’t even realize I said it out loud until my brother answers. “Daisy’s here?”

  Shit. I clear my throat, swiping up my beer and taking a drink. I nod towards the door before turning to the bar again. “Isn’t that her?”

  What’s she doing here alone? Shouldn’t Chad the fucking super cop be with her? What’s wrong with that guy?

  “Want me to call her over?” J.R. studies my face like I’m a book and he’s reading everything happening in my chest. “Is this why you wanted me to come with you tonight?”

  “No. Stop looking at her.”

  He exhales a chuckle, doing what I asked. “When did you start acting like a high school girl?”

  My voice is low, controlled. “I thought she was out of town.”

  “Looks like she’s on a date.” Fuck being cool. My face snaps around to see what he’s talking about.

  She moves casually through the crowd to where a guy with a dark mullet and a fucking gold-toothed smile waits for her at the bar. He’s wearing a black tee that stretches over his chest, and his arms are covered in pretty intense ink, snakes and skulls. The guy’s skinny but cut, and he looks more like a biker than a cop.

  “What the hell?” My fists clench as his hand moves across her lower back, pulling her to his chest. Chunky silver rings cover his fingers.

  J.R. exhales a low whistle. “It’s been a while, but I didn’t think people changed that much.”

  “They don’t.” I finish my beer in one long drink, setting it down with a hard clank on the bar. “I’ll be right back.”

  The blood is surging in my veins and I push off the bar. If this guy is a sheriff, I’m a forest ranger. I’m ready to break that hand touching her skin and send this wannabe biker asshole packing.

  A strong hand grips my shoulder, pulling me to a stop. “Hang on, little brother. What are you doing?” J.R.’s voice is low and commanding at my ear. “You can’t barge over there like this.”

  I’m breathing so hard my nostrils flare, and fire is shooting in my veins. “That guy is no good.”

  “Scout.” J.R. steps in front of me, between me and them. “You don’t know him. You haven’t talked to Daisy in years. The last thing you need right now is a bar fight.”

  “I’m not going to fight.” Yet. My jaw is tight, and I’m about to move my brother’s hand off my shoulder when the sweetest voice cuts through the bar noise.

  “Scout? I-is that you?”

  J.R. releases me, and I turn to see Daisy standing there, big brown eyes wide. Mr. Bad News is still at the bar watching us with impatient suspicion. I’d like to flip him off, but she’s here.

  “Hey, Daisy.” My voice is completely changed, the anger gone.

  “You’re here.” She’s breathing fast, almost like she’s seen a ghost, and she touches my arm carefully, like she’s testing to see if it’s real.

  “It’s been a while, I know.” I cover her hand with mine, soft and warm. “I’ve been wanting to see you.”

  That adorable flush of pink fills her cheeks. I’ve wondered so many times if it would still happen when I saw her again. She’s so pretty.

  “I can’t believe it… What are you doing here?”

  “I came back to help with Jesse, and I’m between jobs, so I’m staying with Gran.”

  Her fingers curl on my sleeve, and for a moment I think she’s going to pull me closer, step into the hug I’m ready to give. Until Tattoo Boy joins us.

  “Hey, Daisy May, who’s your friend?” His voice is rough like sandpaper, like he smokes twelve packs a day.

  I hate him at once. Why is he calling her that? Daisy’s middle name is Kate. Shouldn’t Chad the wonder cop know that?

  “He’s not my friend…” She pulls her hand away, shaking her head as if she’s waking up from a dream.

  “I’m Scout Dunne.” I hold out my hand. “This is my brother J.R. You must be Chad.”

  The guy squints at me, and I stand straighter, liking the fact I’m a good three inches or so taller than him.

  “I’m Travis.” Scumbag shakes my hand. “Travis Walker.”

  “Travis Walker?” It comes out a bit on the confused and pissed side, and J.R. steps forward.

  “Hey, Daisy. How’s it going.” He actually gives her a hug, which surprises her as much as it does me.

  They were never particularly close, and I’m sure my brother is trying to step between me and this new asshole. He’s going to have to try harder.

  “So, Travis.” I step around him. “How do you know Daisy?”

  He smiles like a snake and slides a hand along her waist. “Daisy and I go way back.”

  “Is that so?” I look at his hand and when my eyes meet his, it’s on. “I’ve known Daisy since she was a little girl.”

  “So, you’re like one of those big brother types.” Try harder, dick.

  “No. Not at all.”

  Daisy exhales a flustered sound. “Travis is just in town for a visit. We were just having a drink. It’s nothing.”

  “How about we join you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She looks from me to Travis.

  “Scout. Dunne!” Mims’s shrill voice cuts us off, and she bounds up next to me, grabbing my arm. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m taking off, if you’ve got it under control here?” My brother steps back, and I nearly grab him.

  I don’t have to. Mims catches his arm, holding us both at her sides. “Now you just stop right there, John Roth! Always running off like that. I never get to chat with you anymore.”

  “I really need to get home, Mims.”

  “Home’s going to be there when you get there.” Mims’s minion friend Stephanie Marlowe steps up on the other side of my brother. “Stephanie, look who’s here.”

  “Hey, guys…” Then her expression melts. “Oh, hey, Daisy.”

  “Daisy Sales.” Mims’s smile falters as well. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  Daisy by contrast puts on a big, fake smile. “Hi, Mims, Stephanie. It’s always fun to see you two.”

  “Whatever that means.” Mims turns to me. “Would you be a dear and buy me a drink, Scoutey?”

  Scoutey? What the fuck?

  “Tell you what, just order something on my tab.” I motion to the bartender, and the guy nods. I give her a gentle nudge in that direction. “Help yourself. I need to talk to Daisy a second.”

  Catching Daisy’s arm, I drag her away from all of them out onto the dance floor. She makes a noise, but she doesn’t fight me. We’re out on the now-crowded floor, and I realize it’s crowded because the band is playing “Red, Red Wine.” I almost laugh, remembering how much she hates this song. I pull her closer, leaning down to inhale deeply her familiar scent of caramel and soft magnolia.

  “They’re playing your favorite song.”

  She shakes her head, pulling away as she glances over her shoulder to where we left everyone. I follow her eyes and see my brother is glaring daggers at me, while Travis the asshole appears to be brooding.

  I lift my chin and smile. “Where’s Chad?”

  “Chad?” Her eyes blink back to mine, and confusion lines her brow. “Chad Tucker? I expect he’s working. How do you know about him?”

  “André told me yesterday. I went by your store to see you, but you weren’t there.”

  “You were at my store yesterday?”

  “Yeah, but you’d already gone. André said you’d be back on Monday, so I was going to try again.” I give her hand a gentle pull, wanting her closer to me. “Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to leave without saying hi.”

  “I still can’t believe you’re here.” She says it softly, her fingers curling on my arm. “You look… the same.”

  Her cheeks flush so pretty, and I run my eyes along the soft curls framing her face. “You haven’t changed a bit, Tink.”

  Her bottom lip pulls between her teeth, and when her eyes meet mine again, they’re shining. Is she crying? Is she happy? I can’t tell. She seems nervo
us.

  “Does that make you Peter Pan?” It’s a hint of a tease, and we’re so close to how we used to laugh and talk.

  “You know I’m not a child.” Heat filters through my stomach, and I remember kissing her. It’s been so long, but it’s like muscle memory. I want to slide my thumb along her cheek, tug her soft bottom lip free of her teeth.

  She shakes her head, breaking the spell. “We need to talk. Would you be willing to come by my shop again?”

  “I’d love to. How about tomorrow? Ten?” I’m still holding her hand, but she steps away as if she’ll leave me.

  “I’m technically closed on Sundays, so yes. Come then and we can talk.” She lifts her hand, unthreading our fingers, and cuts her eyes towards the band. “I hate this song.”

  It makes me chuckle to think she just noticed. It never took her this long before. “I remember.”

  Her eyes return to mine, and I almost get a smile. Almost.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then. I’m really tired. I had a late night last night. I think I’ll settle up and go home.”

  “Back to Fireside?” I follow her to where the group is standing.

  “Oceanside. The Village—I live in the apartment over my store.”

  Mental note.

  I also note J.R. is edging closer to the door, and Travis the douche is on the other side of Mims talking to Stephanie. “Are you here with that guy?”

  “Not really. He’s someone I used to know. I said I’d have a drink with him.”

  “If he gives you any trouble—”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “And you’re not afraid of anything. I remember.”

  “I hope you saved a dance for me, Scoutey.” Mims closes the gap, sliding her hand into the crook of my arm.

  J.R. is on my other side, speaking at my shoulder. “I closed out our tab.”

  I’d like to give him a high-five, but that might be rude. “Sorry, Mims. I’ve got to get J.R. home. He’s got an early day tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday!” Her voice rises, and my brother visibly winces.

  “I’ve got to go, too.” Daisy gives Douche Boy a wave. “It was really… helpful to see you again, Travis.”