Guardian (The Guardian Trilogy) (11 page)

But I
say nothing.

I
continue to look at the fire as he finishes his s’more.  Dane shifts his
weight, like he’s uncomfortable.  “So…” he trails off awkwardly.

I give
him a small apologetic smile.  I wish I was better at this, better at putting
up a good front.

“You’re
not trying very hard.”

James’
voice sounds crystal clear.  My smile disappears and my body tenses in
surprise.

“But
then again, you never were a very good liar.”

I turn
abruptly and start to look around behind me.

“Is
something wrong?” Dane asks, trying to find what I’m looking for.

 “Oh
no,” I face him, trying to act casual.  “I thought I heard my name.”

“Oh.” 
His expression tells me he’s rethinking his decision to come and talk to me.

“Yep,
still a horrible liar,”
I hear James snicker.

“Is
this thing on?”

I jump
as someone taps a microphone.  I turn toward the patio and see a group of
people gathered around.  “It’s time for some karaoke!  Who’s first?”  People
laugh and a few hands shoot up.

“Do you
want to go and watch?” Dane asks me.

I turn
back to face him.  “I….um….”  My brain is completely scattered by James’ voice.

“Do you
want to watch or don’t you?”

I’m
still trying to process my thoughts.  “Uh…well…”

“I’ll
make this easy for you,” Dane says shaking his head.  “I’m going to go watch
people make fools out of themselves.  If you want to join me, you can.”  He
stands.  “It was nice…er…talking to you,” he says and walks away.

I sigh
and close my eyes.  Could I have acted any more idiotic?

I can
hear James laugh. 
“That was smooth.”

With my
eyes still closed, I smile and wait for James to say something else.

Instead,
I hear the karaoke music start and a girl start to warble Brittany Spears’
“Baby One More Time.”  I will James’ voice to come back.

When I
don’t hear him by the end of the song I open my eyes, disappointed.  Another
guest takes the mic, and I realize that I haven’t seen Shel, or my parents, in
awhile.  I decide to head over to the karaoke concert to find them.

I take
my time walking back to the patio, thinking about James’ voice.  It’s right.  I
haven’t been trying very hard.  I attempt to rearrange my face to look somewhat
interested in the entertainment.  As I approach the patio, Dr. and Mrs. Randall
are beginning a hilarious rendition of Sonny and Cher’s “I’ve Got You Babe.”  I
can’t help but laugh as I watch them.  At the end of the song everyone claps
and cheers as they take exaggerated bows.

As the
next person to sing is decided, my eyes scan the patio looking for Shel or my
parents.  Something catches my eye.

And what
I see infuriates me.

Off to
the side of the patio, tucked behind the group of spectators, is where I find
them.  Matt is sitting in one of the patio chairs and Shel is sitting on his
lap, facing him, and they are kissing.  There is no logical explanation for it,
but anger constricts my chest.  I move out of the group of people and slowly
walk behind them to the other side of the patio to make sure what I’m seeing is
real.

I stop
and blend into the guests when I get as close as I dare.  I was wrong; they are
not just kissing.  They are full on
consuming
one another.  I see Matt’s
hands wrap around Shel’s waist and then move up her back.  I look down at the
ground and clench my hands into fists as I try and calm myself.

My mind
seethes. The reason she drug me out here tonight was this?  Why?  Why not just
let me stay home?

I hear
Shel giggle and I glance back at them through narrowed eyes.  I can see Matt
raise his finger to his lips.  He tells her to “shhhh” while laughing himself. 
He starts to kiss her neck.  That’s when I decide I can’t take anymore.  I’m leaving.

I wrap
my arms around myself and walk quickly through the backyard, around the house,
and back to the street.  The spot is empty where my parents had parked. 
“Thanks for telling me you were leaving,” I mutter under my breath.

I pull
out the keys, get into my car, and slam the door shut behind me.  I start the
engine and grip the steering wheel, pausing to glare back at the Randall’s
house.  I shake my head in disgust and throw the car into reverse.

“How
will Shel get back?”
  James’ voice rings clear.

I’m so
upset I don’t even flinch.  “She’s in good hands,” I snap out loud to the empty
car.

I
make sure to back out carefully but when I throw the car into drive, the tires
squeal as I hit the gas.

The
next morning I rise with the alarm clock, surprised I slept without tossing and
turning.  My thoughts return to last night and I groan.  My anger with Shel and
Matt may have subsided, but I still feel annoyed. I drag myself out of bed to get
ready for work.  Memorial Day weekend is supposed to be huge for golf; I’m sure
the course will be packed.

After
showering, I head downstairs to grab something quick to eat.  When I pass
Shel’s door, I notice it’s been left slightly open, and I can hear her alarm
going off.  I peek in and see her passed out in the bed, dead to the world,
still dressed in what she was wearing last night.

Really?! 
My anger returns in full force.  Today is supposed to be extremely busy; I’m
going to need her help and she’s going to make us late!  Instead of doing the
right thing, which would be to wake her, I storm down the stairs.

“Mornin’,”
my dad says over a bowl of cereal.

I throw
open the pantry door and grab a couple granola bars.

“Have a
good time last night?” he asks me.

I grab
my keys off the counter and head for the back door, not even bothering to wait
and see if Shel decides wake up for work.  “Terrific,” I grumble to him over my
shoulder as I leave the house.

Bay
Woods is packed when I arrive.  I walk into the pro shop to clock in and check
the schedule.  I’ll be on the beverage cart for most of the day.  Thankfully
Shel is assigned to the main concession – if she makes it in.  I say a quick
hello to Kris, my manager, and head out to the cart area to check my cart and
see what needs restocking.

I’m in
the middle of unpacking a case of water and burying it in ice when I hear a voice
hiss from behind me.  “Why did you leave me?”

I look
up to see a disheveled Shel, her hair pulled up in a hasty ponytail, shirt
wrinkled, half tucked in and half hanging out.  Two mismatched socks, no makeup.

“It
wasn’t my day to babysit you.”  There’s an edge to my tone that comes out
sharper than I intended.

She
blinks and her mouth falls open in surprise at my response.  She quickly shuts
it and looks confused.  “What did I do to you?”

I
finish burying the water bottles and slam the cooler door shut.  I gather the
plastic from the case of water off the ground and crumple it into a ball.  I
start to walk to the dumpster.

“Hey!”
she yells at me.  “I’m talking to you!”

I
pause, my back to her.  I look down at the crumpled plastic in my hands and
then over my shoulder at her.  “Have a good time last night?” I ask in a nasty
tone.

Shel
shakes her head and looks at me like I’m insane.  “What?”

I turn
and face her.  “Last night.  Did you have a good time?”

Her
face is still twisted in confusion.  “Why?”

“As if
you don’t know,” I accuse her.

“You’re
mad at me because I got drunk?  I only had three drinks!  I can’t help it Uncle
Al doesn’t know what a shot is,” she defends herself, growing angry.

“And?”

“And
what?  I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad here!  You took off last night
without warning; I had to find a ride home.  I get a little hung over and you
abandon me again this morning!”

“Like
you really had a hard time finding a ride home!  If you would have taken your
tongue out of Matt’s mouth for two seconds you might have realized I was ready
to leave!”  I know I’m being loud, but I really don’t care.  I know my anger is
irrational, but I can’t help it.

Shel’s
face goes slack.  “What?”

I lose
it entirely.  “Stop it!”  I’m yelling now.  “If you wanted to hook up with
Matt, why did you have to drag me along?  Couldn’t you have just left me at
home?  Where I don’t have to pretend that everything’s okay?  Where I won’t
embarrass myself in front of strangers?  Where I won’t be reminded of what I
don’t have?”  Angry tears are running down my face.  I realize now the root of
my anger. 
I don’t have that anymore.

Shel
looks shocked; as if I’ve physically hit her.  After a moment she rearranges
her face and walks toward me.  “Look…” she says quietly.

I
back away from her and put my hands out to stop her.  “Just…don’t.”  I turn
back to head for the dumpster, hastily wiping the tears from my face.  As I
walk, I check my phone.  I have only ten minutes to compose myself before I’m
supposed to be out on the course.

The day
goes by quickly due to how busy we are.  I’m grateful for two reasons: it keeps
my mind occupied and it’s easy to avoid Shel.  I know we’re going to have to
talk this through, but I need some time to think about what I’m going to say.  She’s
done nothing but support me over the last two weeks.  The apology I owe her is
huge.

Around
six, I return to the pro shop and hand my cart over to Katie, a new hire, for
the next shift.  I wander inside to clock out and then take a quick glance into
the main concession.  Shel isn’t there.  It’s probably better if we talk at
home anyway.

When I pull
up the driveway, Shel is sitting on the back step.  I slowly get out of the
car, walk up, and stand before her.  I twist my fingers together nervously and stare
at the ground like a child who is about to be punished.  I’m unsure of where to
start.

She
beats me to it.  “Do you want me to leave?” she asks pointedly.

I look
up at her.  “No.  Absolutely not.”

She
sighs and pats the spot next to her on the step.  I take a seat and ask her
quietly, “You know how sorry I am, right?”

She
nods.  “I’m sorry too.”

“You
have nothing to apologize for.”

“No, I
do,” she meets my eyes.  “I was careless.”

“No,
you’re normal.  I’m the one with the crazy emotions.”

Shel
snorts.  “I may have some crazy emotions myself.”

We pause
for a moment and stare out across the yard.

“Look,”
I say.  “What you do is none of my business.  If you and Matt are together,
that’s actually really great.”

“Except
we’re not,” she sighs.

I look
at her in disbelief.  “Excuse me?”

She
gives me a guilty look.  “It appears I owe someone else an apology too.”

I’m
confused.  “So what happened?”

“Long
story short, margaritas happened,” she says, embarrassed.

“Oh
no.”

“Oh
yes.”

“Do you
think he thinks you two are…?”

“I’m
not sure what he thinks,” she shrugs.  “He was out of it, so some friend of his
drove me back here.  David?  Don?”

“Dane.” 
I groan, remembering my idiotic stuttering.

“You
know him?”

I make
a face.  “He’s the one I embarrassed myself in front of.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.  I
wouldn’t be surprised if he thinks I’m…what’s a good word?  Special
.”

Shel
laughs.  “Well, that makes two of us.”

I lean
my head against my best friend’s shoulder and smile with her.  Lately, we’re
two peas in a pod when it comes to social awkwardness lately.

“Seriously
though,” Shel says when her laughter fades.  “I am sorry.  I have been pushing
you.  The cemetery, the job, the bar, this thing…” she waves her hand
absentmindedly.  “I haven’t been here that long.  It’s a lot.  But my
intentions are good.”

“I know. 
I do appreciate it.  Truly I do.”

“Okay,”
she pauses and holds out her pinky finger.  “From here on out I promise not to
push so hard.”

I loop
my pinky around hers.  “And I promise to remember that other people have lives
and to try and keep my emotions in check.”

We
pinky swear like we did in elementary school, and after a moment, she grimaces. 
“I guess I should find Matt and sort that out too.”

“I
don’t envy you.  Do you need me to go with?”

She
shakes her head.  “No.  I’m a big girl.  It’s my mess.”

“You’re
sure?”

“I’m
sure.”  She stands and heads for her car.  “Wish me luck?”

I give
her a sympathetic look.  “Good luck.”

After
Shel pulls out of the driveway, I head upstairs to clean up.  I feel entirely
gross physically, but mentally relieved she accepted my apology.

While
changing clothes, I try to decide what to do with my time tonight.  When
nothing immediately jumps to mind, my thoughts turn to Shel.  I hope Matt isn’t
too hard on her.  Hopefully it won’t be that bad; maybe what happened isn’t a
big deal to him or maybe he was too drunk to remember much.  Or maybe he will
be upset.  I know if it were me I would be upset.  I can’t imagine being
intimate with someone so casually.  I guess that’s a result of being with the
same guy – the only guy I’ve ever been with in my life – for four years.

That’s
when the thought pops into my mind.  I know what I’m going to do tonight.  I’m
going to visit James.

I pull
into Whispering Oaks cautiously.  I can’t believe I’m doing this; but it feels
like something I should do.  I told him I would come back.

I feel
nervous.  As I pull to a stop and turn off the engine, I glance around at what
I can see of the cemetery.  I know it’s a public place, but I would prefer to
be here alone.  Since I don’t see anyone, I reach over and pick up the potted
orchid from the seat beside me.  I thought I could leave this here for him; it
would have more meaning here than in my bathroom.

I start
the slow walk along the dirt drive clutching the orchid.  I guess I could have
driven around to the back but the walk will give me time to calm my racing
heart.  Why am I so nervous?  It’s only logical that I would come here.  Maybe
it’s because I decided to do this on my own, without anyone making me.  I
concentrate on the sounds around me.  It’s only my second time here; is it
always this serene?

Well,
duh, I think to myself.  Of course there’s not much activity going on.  This
place is pretty dead, if you know what I mean.

Badabum
tsch!  Lame joke drums sound in my brain.

I make
it to the rear of the cemetery and remember where to turn left.  Unfortunately,
I see a few new mounds of dirt ahead of me, or at least I didn’t see them the
last time I was here.  I hope they haven’t removed the flowers that were there;
James’ headstone wasn’t in place yet and without the flowers I may not find the
right spot.  I decide on which location would most likely be his and walk there
first.  As I get closer, I’m relieved.  I recognize the flowers; I see the blue
“Son” bow.  But something is different.

He has
a headstone now.

My
breath catches at the sight.  It seals my reality, and I have a hard time filling
my lungs.

Despite
this, I make it to James and force myself to take in his gravesite’s new
addition.  It’s a square stone, polished black with white specks, which stands
on a rectangular base of the same rock.  It’s very masculine, but looks so
smooth and soft.  I’m drawn to it, and I take a step forward to kneel beside
the headstone.  I touch the black rock; it is as smooth as it looks.  I trace
the gray engraving with my finger: