Dandelion Dreams (20 page)

Chapter 23

Kai

My mother and I were outside behind the house, the smell of changing leaves and wood smoke in the air.

Mom crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at me.

“This isn’t about the will at all, is it?” My voice carried across the abyss of resentment. I doubted she’d hear me.

“She’s a predator.”

“You’re still on this? She thought I was a broke musician when we met. She thought I had nothing, and she still wanted me. Besides, she has her own money.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Her mother was Penny Harper, the author. She left Sage everything when she died.”

“
The
Penny Harper?”

“Yeah. Sage isn’t using me. She didn’t trap me, Mom. We love each other. Why can’t you understand that?”

“That doesn’t change how fast you two got married. You still barely know each other.”

“You know, it doesn’t matter what you think anymore. I’m a man. I wish you could see me as one.”

Her face and voice were tight with pain. “You don’t know what it’s like—to have expectations and then have them—”

“Fall short? That’s what you want to say, right? I’m a raging disappointment?” I raked a hand through my hair. “Do you love me?” It came out as an accusation.

Genuine hurt flashed across her face. “Of course I do.”
 

“No,” I said quietly, “I don’t think you do. If you did, you wouldn’t be trying to burn down everything I’ve tried to build for myself.” It was devastating to realize my own mother didn’t love me unconditionally.

“And what is it you think you’ve built? Your father and I have been married over thirty years. You think it’s easy? You think love is enough?”

I laughed without amusement. “No, it isn’t. But we’re right for each other and I can’t explain why. We’re meant to be together.”

“Sure, for now. Until things get too hard for you. And they will get too hard for you, Kai. You ran when Tristan and Reece died. You’ll run again, and she’ll let you.”

My body went cold with anger. “Wow. You’ve got no illusions about who I am, huh?” I stared at her. “I’m guessing you had no idea I was supposed to be in that plane.”

Mom gazed at me, her hawk eyes narrowing. “What are you talking about?”

I knew Alice and Keith hadn’t told my parents. They, themselves, wouldn’t have even known about it if I hadn’t been drinking after the crash. But drunk out of my mind, I hadn’t been able to hold the words in my mouth, so I’d spewed them, hoping it would rid me of the blackness. Alice and Keith had carried the truth for two years, letting me tell it when I was ready. If I had never returned, they would’ve gone on bearing it, but I was back now, and everyone needed to know.

“Reece and I played
rock, paper, scissors
for the first flight, and I won, but I gave him my spot. I thought I was being a good friend. I left when they died because of the guilt.” I stared at my mother; she paled with my admission. “It should’ve been me up there—but I’m glad I lived, do you know why?”

Mom was silent.

“If Reece had been the one to live, he would’ve died from the guilt. He was softer than us; kinder, gentler—better. I lived through it all, because I
could
. He wouldn’t have made it, Mom.”

“Alice and Keith…they never said anything.”

“Wasn’t their secret to share; it wasn’t their shame to unburden. Would you have heard them, anyway? Would it have made you understand me better? Curse at me, rant at me, yell at me if you want, but you will leave my wife out of this. If you continue on this way, you’ll drive us away, and we’ll never come back.”

“Are you threatening me?” Her voice was as thin as a reed ready to snap.

“Sage is everything to me, Mom.”

I stared at my mother before leaving her alone with her righteousness and my confession. Seeds of bitterness didn’t grow into trees overnight, and I doubted I’d be able to fell them in day.

Maybe I should stop trying.

•••

Later that evening, Keith and I were sharing a beer in the kitchen of the Chelser ranch house. Sage was upstairs asleep, and Alice was getting ready for bed. Jules had wanted to stay for the funeral, but I’d told her it was unnecessary, so she had hopped on a plane that morning.

“Memaw left the house and land to Sage?” Keith asked.

I nodded. “Dad knew about the change to the will. Mom shit a brick.”

“How did Wyatt react?”

“He was okay with it,” I said. “The only one who can’t wrap her head around it is Mom. She used it as an excuse to unload all her pent up anger at me. She’s pissed I left home, she’s pissed I got married really fast. She’s just pissed.”

“Can you blame her? Take a step back. Maybe she didn’t handle her emotions all that well, but can you see her points?”

“Yeah, I can, but enough already. I’m happy. Sage and I are happy. It’s like Mom doesn’t believe me or something.”

“Claire’s a complicated woman. It must be hard for her to watch her son live a life she never could’ve imagined for him.”

“But it’s
my
life,” I gritted. “Mine and Sage’s.”

“When you have family, it’s never really your own. You’re tied to other people, son, always will be. No matter where you live or where you go that tether is still there, and it can’t be cut no matter how sharp the shears.”

“I wish she loved me for me. I finally told her the truth—that I was supposed to be in the plane.” I wiped a hand across my face feeling bone-deep tired. “I don’t know if that will make a difference to her—I still ran.”

“You can’t expect to sort out a lifetime of hurt and misunderstandings in a few months, Kai.”

“It took two years, but I ran in a very large circle, and where did I end up? Back in the mountains. There isn’t enough distance from Monteagle, no matter where I go.”

“This is your place, and the sooner you make peace with it, all of it, then maybe you’ll begin to heal.”

“I’m healed.”

“You think you are, until someone pulls on a ratty thread and it all comes undone again. Maybe you should stay. For a little while, at least.”

“Stay here?” The idea churned in my mind like clothes in a washing machine.

Keith shrugged. “Memaw gave you guys a house and land for a reason. I’m sure she wanted you to make peace with your soul—and with your family.”

I craved a fishing rod in my hand, like an alcoholic yearned for a drink.

“Would Sage consider staying?”

“And live near my mother?” I snorted. “Can I really ask her to do that?”

“No, I mean, would she give you time here—because she loves you?”

“I don’t know,” I said, meaning it. “It’s a lot to ask.”

“Would you do it for her?”

“Of course.”

“Ask her and find out.”

•••

I couldn’t stop the feeling of déjà vu as I watched my grandmother being lowered into the ground, and I wondered if my life would be defined by these moments—losing those closest to me. My existence was a series of gray milestones, and I was constantly tripping over them.

It smothered me, the somber faces and black clothes. I turned away, my hand dropping from Sage’s. I began to walk and didn’t stop until I reached a mausoleum, plopping down on the marble stone steps. Looking out the corner of my eye, I saw Sage’s dainty feet in black heels. She perched next to me and plucked a late blooming dandelion from underneath the steps.

“I don’t understand funerals. I mean, I do, but they’re for the living, not the dead. Closure and all that kind of bullshit, but do people really get closure—ever?” My voice was hushed, mindful of our location.

Sage blew the dandelion, and we watched the seeds travel. “Moments like these aren’t about closure.”

“What are they about then?”

“Reconciliation.”

I sighed. “I can’t go to my parents’ house after this and sit through another one of these things.”

“Don’t you think you should be there for your dad? He needs you.”

I pulled out a handful of grass, clutching it in my grip. The land was green, alive, in a place where the reminder of death was all around us. “Why didn’t you let Jules help you through your mother’s death? She’s your oldest friend.”

“Why do we push away those we love?” she asked instead. “You might never have the relationship with your family that you want, but it wouldn’t only be their fault. You’re in this, too.”

“Can we stay?”

“Stay?”

“In Monteagle. Not forever, but for now? There are things that I…”

“Have to reconcile—I know.”

“You’re not surprised I’m asking, are you?”

Sage knew me. Like words on a page, she read me.

She smiled and leaned her head against my shoulder. “If you need to stay, we’ll stay.” She took my hand.

“We’ll go back to France,” I vowed.

“I know. One day. I love that farmhouse. That turret, that fireplace in the living room.” She smiled. “But it looks like our kid will be Southern.”

“Wean him on bourbon and fishing,” I teased.

“Just like his father.”

•••

Tristan chews on a matchstick as he hands me the bottle of bourbon. Even in my dreams, I crave Gentleman Jack. I take a swig.

We are sitting on the edge of the mountain, watching the sun sink into earth. The colors are muted, like a memory that dims or turns gray.

“You say ‘I do’ out loud, once, but you make a choice, every day—it’s active, not passive.”

“Thanks for the advice,” I say with a grin, but Tristan doesn’t grin back.

“I know what I’m talking about.”

“You? I’m supposed to take marriage advice from the guy that never saw a girl after he got her into bed?”

“That’s why you should listen to me; I never played around on Lucy.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

Tristan finally smiles. “Yeah, right. It’s okay. I would’ve thought that about me, too.”

“How did you change?”

“I just did. I’d do anything to see her happy. And she wanted me, bad boy and all.”

“The heart wants what it wants, huh?”

Tristan laughs. “Man, the heart doesn’t even know what it wants. It latches onto something and won’t let go. It knows before the mind.”

“The heart can play tricks on you. I think it’s the ultimate creator of illusion.”

“You don’t think this is real?”

“What, talking to you? I know this isn’t real.”

“I meant you and Sage.”

“Oh, that. It’s terrifying, so I know it’s real,” I explain.

“Take this bottle of Jack. It feels real, tastes real, but it’s still a dream. How do you know you and Sage aren’t a dream in someone else’s mind?”

“Because in a dream, I can do this.” I throw the bottle of bourbon, and it hits the tree with enough force that it should shatter. It doesn’t because the tree moves and catches the bottle in its spindly branches.

“Neat little trick.” Tristan smiles.

“Our love is no trick.”

“Whatever you say, Kai. Only you know the truth. I’m just a ghost.”

Chapter 24

Sage

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” I grumbled, as I tied the laces of my tennis shoes.

“Oh come on, you’ll have fun, promise,” Kai said.

“I like the idea of fishing, but does it have to be so friggin’ early?”

“You love me, remember? Do this for me?”

“I do love you.” I sighed. “And I’ll prove it by holding a fishing rod. On the upside, this is the first morning I haven’t wanted to dry heave into the toilet.”

I threw on a light jacket, knowing I’d strip it off later after the sun rose, but it would be chilly in the predawn air. The days were still warm, but the nights were cool.

We drove into the mountains and parked on an incline. We hiked up the hill, taking a leisurely pace. When we arrived at the lake, I said, “Okay, the view alone was worth getting up at the crack of dawn.” Streaks of sun were bouncing off the water, making me think of silver fish scales.

Kai grinned and handed me a pole. He took me through the motions, but I was clumsy. Never losing his patience, he continued to teach. “No, like this.” He adjusted my arm when I cast incorrectly. I watched him and marveled at his skill.

“You’ll get better,” he vowed, “but it’s going to take lots and lots of practice.”

“You’re going to drag me up here day after day, aren’t you?”

“Year after year,” he went on.

I shook my head. “Hate to break it to you, sport, but I’m not a fisherwoman.”

Kai pretended to be shocked. “Not in front of the kid!”

I laughed, the sound of it ringing through the trees. We fished in silence for a quarter of an hour, and then I spoke. “Should we move into your grandmother’s house? Is it too soon?” It had only been a week since Memaw had died—it might always be too soon. If we lived there, would a lingering ghost haunt us? There were so many of them in Monteagle.

“I wanted to talk to you about that. I was thinking about building a house on her property.”

“You mean tear hers down? I don’t understand.”

“No, leave it. Memaw put her money into the land, but her house is too small for a family. We’ll use it as a guesthouse, but I want to build us our dream home. A home for our family.”

“We might stay forever if you do that.” My voice trembled with fear and hope.

“Forever is wherever we want it to be. France, here, New York.”

“I hate New York—I never want to go back.”

His eyes sought mine. “Could you be happy in Monteagle? Long term?”

“Could you?”

“I’m not sure anymore,” he admitted. “Just when I think things won’t change on me, they do.”

He set his pole down and came to me. Taking mine from my hands, he set it along the bank and hugged me to him. “I can’t imagine a life without you, Sage, and I don’t even want to try. We’ll change, but we’ll do it together. That I can promise you.”

Pulling back, I shook off the somberness of our conversation. “Now, take pity on me. Can we be done with fishing for today? I’m hungry.” It was a few hours past sunrise, and I was ready for food.

Sighing in defeat, Kai packed up our gear and handed me the rods. “Can you take these back to the car? I’ll grab everything else.”