Hushed (11 page)

Sunday, October 19
^th

Vivian got into the passenger seat and Archer shut the door for her. Evan lingered near his own car, eyes on the ground. He hadn’t said much. There wasn’t much
to
say.

“I can’t let her drive home,” he said.

Evan lifted his head. “Are
you
all right to drive?”

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but what choice did he have? They couldn’t leave Vivian’s car in the hospital parking lot, and he wouldn’t let her try to make the trip home alone. For now, at least, he’d forced himself into a quiet state of numbness. “She wants to stay at her mom’s place, anyway.”

Evan nodded. “What can I do?”

Stay with me.

Archer pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, sighed, and straightened up. “It’s a lot to ask…but can you come get me tomorrow? After classes or whenever.”

“Yeah, of course.” Evan brushed a hand over Archer’s shoulder. It was comforting, but not enough. Of all times for him to be hesitant and shy, why now? Now when Archer wanted to be touched and allowed the relief of falling apart? “I need you to do me a favor, too.”

Archer inclined his chin, listening.

Evan’s hand dropped away. “I want you to keep in mind that while it’s good for you to be there for Vivian…you need to think of yourself, too. Don’t overlook that.”

He nodded. But keeping it together was better. Although Marissa had been more of a mother to him than his own, Vivian was her real child. Not him.

He drew away and headed for Vivian’s car, reminding himself that, right then and there, his feelings didn’t matter. There would be a time and a place for his mourning later.

§

Marissa’s garden, at one point, had been so meticulously taken care of and was now infiltrated by weeds and leaves. The potted plants on the front porch were dying or already dead. Everything was dark. Everything lonely and forgotten without Marissa there to breathe life into it.

Vivian disappeared silently upstairs to make a few phone calls. Archer gathered the overflowing mail and papers from outside and checked the fridge. He would need to make sure Vivian ate in the morning, but he’d give her a break tonight.
He
sure as hell couldn’t eat, so he wouldn’t expect her to, either.

He tossed the newspapers and mail on the dining table where, once upon a time, a hundred games of Monopoly had been played. Marissa always let him be the race car. It was also the table where Marissa helped them with homework and school projects. Pasting magazine clippings on poster board, trying to decipher long division and algebra.

The same table they sat at when Marissa told them, “’
I’m sick.
”

Her ghost haunted every corner of the house, every room he entered. Atop the fireplace mantel were images from another life years ago. Vivian’s first steps, first day of school. Out of all the photos of high school dances she’d attended, only one picture had a place there: the one of her and him. The year her date ditched her an hour before prom, and Archer stepped in to save the day.

And, everywhere, pictures of Marissa and her warm smile.

“You were too good for the life you were given,” he murmured into the darkness. Her fucked-up husband and her fucked-up kids…

The ceiling creaked with Vivian’s footsteps. Archer finished locking up the house and headed upstairs. He passed by Brody’s old room, used now for extra storage. Marissa’s room stood across from it, door half-open, and that was where he found Vivian.

Growing up, he never really had reason to be in Marissa’s room except to look at the dolphins. There they all were, lined up in no particular order. Vivian stared at them, face slack. Archer stepped up beside her. There was a lone empty spot amidst all the dolphins. It would’ve been the perfect place to put the one he’d bought for her.

As he tried to think of what to say, Vivian broke the silence. “I called Aunt Nancy and Grandma. They’ll be on a plane in a few hours.”

He nodded. “If you need me to, I can do the rest. Calling people and all that.” Marissa’s friends, mainly. His own mother. Undoubtedly, Vivian’s grandmother and aunt would take care of the family contacts. Most everyone lived out of state and would need time to fly in.

“The house is going to be packed.”

“You don’t need to stay here if you don’t want.” He brushed back some of the hair from her face. “You can stay with me for a few nights.”
Bad idea,
his mind screamed. But this wasn’t the typical scenario. This wasn’t abusive boyfriends and stupid decisions. This was Vivian losing her mother. This was him losing the woman he thought of as
his
mother.

Vivian leaned into him, cheek against his shoulder. “We’ll see.”

“All right.” He settled an arm around her, coaxing her away from the dolphins. “Come on, we both need some rest.” In a few hours, the sun would be up. He felt terrible for Evan having to drive back home and still get up for classes.

Vivian went along to her room, which was much more familiar to Archer. It hadn’t changed a bit since Viv left for college. Black and pink everywhere. She still had a boy-band poster on the back of her door from her middle-school days, and said she liked to keep it for nostalgia’s sake.

Archer pulled down the covers and flicked on the bedside lamp. When he turned around, Vivian had her back to him, undressing by her closet. He saw the pale, smooth curve of her hips as she pulled off her shirt and he tore his eyes away, focusing them on the window instead. For all the good it did; he could still see her reflection in the glass.

Vivian dropped her shirt on the floor along with her jeans. If she had any shame, she damned well wasn’t expressing it with the way she turned around and stared right at him. Like she was willing him
to turn and look at her. He wouldn’t. Couldn’t. He kept his eyes on the window, staring through the glass instead of
at
it.

A moment later, Vivian’s arms snaked around his middle, and he sucked in a breath. She was dressed, thank God, but he could still feel the curve of her breasts against his back. It didn’t help get the image of her out of his head.

“Archer?”

He squeezed his eyes shut.

“Turn around,” she said. He was helpless to do anything but exactly that. A finger touched to his cheek, traced down to the corner of his mouth and across his lower lip.

“Look at me?”

I can’t, I can’t.

This wasn’t right. She was acting strange, and strange from Vivian was never a good thing. His insides did acrobatics and Vivian sounded so calm, so controlled. Wasn’t it usually the other way around?

But he opened his eyes, staring down into her face. No girl could ever be as beautiful. Not when she looked at him the way he’d always wanted her to. Like he was more than the Best Friend. Like he might be a guy she would want.

So why was he thinking of a hundred excuses to run out of the room?

Vivian brushed the dark hair back from his face. Her hands were slightly chilled, but soft. “I owe you a thank-you.”

Archer inhaled. “No you don’t, you–” She silenced him with a finger against his lips, nudging him back to the bed.

“I do.” Her prompting got him to sink down onto the mattress. Her fingers against his cheeks sent anxious little sparks across his skin. “You’re always there for me. Always coming to my rescue. I don’t know what I would’ve done tonight without you.”

“You would’ve been fine.” Damn his voice for coming out hoarser than he would’ve liked.
Marissa was important to me, too. I wasn’t there for just you,
he wanted to say, but it seemed cruel. He kept his eyes glued to Vivian’s face. Sitting as he was, if he dropped his gaze, he’d be eye-level with her chest.

She solved that problem a moment later and gave him an entirely new one. Vivian’s hands came to rest on his shoulders, her long legs straddled his lap and, a moment later, her mouth crushed against his.

There’d been brief kisses over the years. On the cheek, on his hands, his forehead, even fleeting ones on his mouth. But not like this. Never this insistent and eager, her hands in his hair and her tongue coaxing his into play because,
damn it all
, he was kissing her back. Despite his better judgment, he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to ask himself
Why? Why now, after all this time?

Vivian’s hands slid through his hair, over his shoulders, down his back, dragging his shirt up so she could touch him, skin on skin. Her fingertips on his spine, tickling their way up and—

He froze.

The room seemed so deathly silent where seconds before it’d been filled with the eager sound of their breaths.

Vivian drew back with her brows knitted together, face flushed. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She sounded so far away.

Because he was back in the hotel room, with Evan’s mouth against his ear, murmuring soothing words and tracing his fingers up and down Archer’s spine. Remembering the way he’d wanted to know what it would feel like to turn his head just those few inches and kiss Evan, to lose himself in those eyes. The peace Evan brought to him. The calm. Not this frantic, frightening sensation of being with Vivian, wanting her so badly because he knew if he so much as blinked wrong, he would lose her all over again.

“Archer, you’re shaking. What’s wrong?” Vivian gathered his hands up in her own, holding them against her chest.

He stared at her, trying to gather his thoughts. What did he want? What was he doing? What was
she
doing? Through all the years he tried to be everything he thought she wanted, why
now
did she show interest? He didn’t understand.

Archer lifted his hands—they were shaking, yes—and cupped her face. Wishing he could pick her apart and figure her out. Vivian bit her lip. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he breathed. “No, it’s not you. It’s entirely me. This day has just been…”

Vivian lowered her gaze, long lashes brushing against her fine cheekbones. When she looked up again, her eyes were glassy. “I know. It’s…I know.” She sniffed and he did the only thing he could think to do—he held her. She buried her face against the junction of neck and shoulder, lips brushing his skin. He wanted to kiss her again.

“Stay in here tonight. Please?”

Also a bad idea. She was vulnerable. Hell,
he
was vulnerable. Vivian held more power over him now than ever.

Archer took a deep breath. “Just for tonight.”

She slipped beneath the covers while he stripped down to his pants. No more than that, because there was a difference between a bad idea and a downright
stupid
one. Pants stayed on. He joined her after flicking off the lights.

Vivian molded herself against his side, arm over his middle, one smooth leg hiked across his hip. Lucky for her—or maybe for him—he had too many years of experience in dealing with self-restraint around her. But it didn’t mean he enjoyed having her sprawled all over him when all he could do was lay there stiffly and stare at the ceiling.

“You know I love you, Archer,” Vivian mumbled from where her cheek rested on his shoulder.

Archer sighed. “I know you do.”

It was a lie. He didn’t know anything anymore.

§

Marissa had a music box of a dolphin leaping over a rainbow made of red, blue, and yellow. Missing a few colors, obviously. Archer wound and rewound it, letting it repeat its lazy rendition of
Over the Rainbow.
As he sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the music box in his hands, he remembered brief flashes of Marissa flitting about her room. Doing her hair, her makeup, putting on earrings. All while the music box played, and she hummed along with it in a soft, soft voice that made his heart ache.

His own mother never sang or hummed. It was something so small, so normal
. What will Mom say about all this when I see her?

Marissa had been his mother’s friend long before Vivian’s dad ran out on them and his own father had died, but they didn’t grow truly close until after all of that. Within their loss, they bonded, two women trying to adjust to life raising their kids alone. But they couldn’t have been more different in everything from their mannerisms to their style of parenting.

Vivian’s shadow spilled across the floor in the patch of light coming in from the hall. He didn’t look up. “Barring any screwups with the paperwork, everything should be set to go for Wednesday,” he said. His morning had been spent on the phone, dealing with funeral homes and the hospital. Making the decisions Vivian should’ve made but couldn’t compose herself enough to do.

Roxy had also called, having heard the news. He felt a little bad not telling her himself. She wasn’t as close to Marissa as he had been, but she was still upset. “
What can I do?”
she’d asked. Archer answered honestly, “
When I figure that out, I’ll let you know.”

Vivian nodded slowly. “You know, I don’t understand it.”