Kyland (Sign of Love #7) (11 page)

I shook my head against the side of his chest. "It's not ridiculous. Not at all."

He brought his arms around me and stroked my arm as he held me and I thought about how he'd been so alone . . . for so long . . .

"Kyland?"

"Hmm?"

"How do you . . . that is, how
have
you . . . survived all this time? How do you have money for food? Heat?"

He was quiet for a second. "I don't like talking about that, Tenleigh. It makes me feel . . . exposed somehow, I guess."

"You don't have to. It's okay." My words came out in a whispery rush.
Oh, Kyland. What do you do? How do you take care of yourself?
I kissed his bare skin, letting my lips linger there.

We were both silent for a few minutes. Finally, he said very quietly, "I do whatever I have to do. I collect scrap metal on the weekends. I set traps for muskrats and rabbits and sell them or eat them if I have to. I've collected bottle caps . . . whatever I have to do, that's what I do. Mostly I'm fine. Sometimes I even have a little money for electricity. Sometimes I don't. The end of the month is always the hardest, when I've paid the bills I can and don't have anything left."

I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't cry.

He had just shared a personal part of his heart with me. I knew better than anyone that the things you did to survive were the most personal of all—the fight to live would humble you in ways you didn't ever want anyone else to know about. Because sometimes it was unspeakable. Sometimes it was ugly and shameful and beautiful and courageous all at once. And he'd just given me some of that. I felt sad, horrified, anguished for him, but I felt deeply grateful, too. I squeezed him tighter. "I think you're amazing," I said, "and so very brave."

"I'm not brave, Tenleigh. I get up and live my sucky life. What else can I do?"

I was quiet, thinking about that, thinking there were a thousand different ways a person could give up, and Kyland hadn't chosen any of them. He had no idea how strong and courageous he really was.

"Hey, Tenleigh," he whispered after a while.

"Yes?"

"That book,
The Road
?"

"Hmm hmm?" I murmured, remembering his bad joke, using the word "devour" in reference to a book about cannibals. I smiled sleepily.

"There's this line in it that talks about keeping a little fire burning inside, '
however small, however hidden
.'"

"Yes," I said softly.

"I think about that line sometimes. I think about how that little fire is
hope
. I think about how you have to keep it burning to get you through the hard times, the times that seem so painful you don't want to continue on."

I opened my eyes. "What keeps your fire burning?"

"The hope that life won't always hurt so badly. The belief that I'll get out of here someday—that I won't be cold or hungry forever. It keeps me going. It's my fire. It helps me do the things I need to do to survive, and it helps me hate myself less for doing them."

Oh, Kyland.

I nodded my head and kissed his chest again. He brought his arms around me and held me tightly to him.

After a few minutes, his breathing grew even and I knew he'd fallen back to sleep. I lay there in the dark for a long time thinking about the amazing boy Kyland had to become—to be able to survive against such odds. Until that moment, I didn't know my heart could be filled with awe and grief, joy and sorrow, all at the exact same time.

Tenleigh

I left early the next day, pulling on my clothes in the frigid morning air and kissing Kyland goodbye as he slept. He hadn't had any more bad dreams, but I didn't want to wake him. We'd been up most of the night. A warm flush covered my skin as I relived what we'd experienced together in his bed. I wanted to dive back under those warm covers and experience every bit of it again. But I didn't know what time Marlo would be home and I wanted to be there when she arrived with our mama. And so I snuck out of his room quietly, closing his front door behind me.

I left my Christmas tree there. I trudged through the snow to our trailer, shivering with cold. Something about the whole world seemed different to me this morning. The cold seemed colder, the air fresher, the pine trees more fragrant, the blue sky even brighter. I felt
alive.

I rushed through our trailer door and turned up the heaters just enough to make it comfortable inside. I took a quick shower and changed into clean clothes, layering two sweaters and two pairs of worn wool socks. I piled my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head so the wet strands wouldn't make me cold.

I went to our kitchen and rooted around in the cabinet. There was some oatmeal so I made that and added some cinnamon, eating it sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket.

My mind went immediately to Kyland. I thought about everything I'd learned about him since yesterday. I thought about the loneliness he must have faced. I thought about all it had taken for him to survive and my heart pinched. I wondered if he was still sleeping. Hopefully. I wondered what would happen between us now. I didn't know if I should expect anything at all. Perhaps last night was a one-time experience. I felt deeply disappointed at the thought alone.

Oh, Tenleigh, don't be stupid.
This won't end well for you if you hope for anything.

I sighed, and spooned more oatmeal into my mouth. He had spelled it out for me. I could never say that he'd promised me anything more than what we'd had last night. From what I gathered, he had resisted even that for as long as he could.
He hadn't wanted any entanglements.
Which meant me. And kissing me—sharing our bodies—didn't change that. Could I handle it? I didn't have a choice. He'd offered what he could honestly and I'd accepted. I
had
to handle it, whether I wanted to or not.

Maybe I was making this way too complicated based on my mama's and my sister's experiences with men. Couldn't I enjoy Kyland temporarily and then part ways when it was time for that? I'd probably be sad—maybe I'd even shed a few tears over it—but then I'd move on and so would he. The memories would fade as life continued on.

And he was probably right to limit our sexual interaction. Maybe he was thinking more clearly than I was on that matter. After all, he had more experience. I frowned. Would he still be seeing other girls? Could I ask him not to? No, I had no right. Pain gripped me when I pictured him with another girl in his bed, doing the things we had done.

I put my empty bowl on the coffee table and wrapped my arms around myself. Clearly, I was already doing badly at separating my body from my heart.

An engine sounded outside my trailer, followed by doors slamming and then footsteps. I bolted up, flinging the door open.

Marlo and Sam, and my mama supported by both of them, were almost at the door.

"Mama," I breathed when I saw her, reaching my hand outside the door to take hers as she walked up the steps. She gave me a small, tired smile and stepped into the trailer. Marlo and Sam followed her. I quickly moved the blanket I'd been using aside on the couch and made a place for her.

"Sweetheart, I'd like to lie down," Mama said weakly.

"Of course, Mama," I whispered, shooting a questioning look at Marlo, who looked tired. She smiled, though, and nodded, indicating Mama was okay.

I led Mama to the small bedroom she and Marlo shared in the back of the trailer and she lay down on the bed. I removed her shoes and brought her quilt up over her. She sighed. "Thank you, Tenleigh." She reached her hand out for me and I took it, sitting beside her on the bed.

Her expression was filled with sadness. "I'm so sorry, baby. So sorry."

I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears. "I just want you to get better, Mama," I said.

"Me, too. I just can't quite figure out how. It's all such a mess. I'm such a mess. I try to stop it, baby, I really do. But when the darkness comes . . ." She shook her head, her words fading as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"I love you, Mama. No matter what, I love you."

Tears slipped from her eyes. "I know you do, baby. And that makes it better. It does." She turned on her side, seeming to be done talking for now, looking sleepy, and probably medicated. I smoothed her dark hair back out of her face and watched as her pretty features relaxed into sleep.

I sat there for a few more minutes, gathering myself, and then I left her alone to rest, closing her bedroom door behind me.

"She seems better," I said to Marlo quietly. Marlo and Sam were sitting on the couch, Sam's elbows resting on his knees as he looked around our trailer, a slightly displeased expression on his face. I'm sure this place looked like a rat-hole to him.

"She is. For now," Marlo said and sighed. We knew the drill. How long she'd be better was the mystery.

"Well, Sam, thank you for your help this weekend," Marlo said, standing, clearly dismissing him. He raised his eyebrows as if he hadn't been expecting the instant dismissal, yet being the gentleman he was, got up to leave.

"Of course. Are you sure you don't need me to . . .?" he trailed off, seeming to be unsure of what to offer exactly.

"No. We're good now. Thank you." She smiled.
Well, this was uncomfortable.

"Thank you so much, Sam," I said, reaching my hand out to him and offering a warm smile. "It was so kind of you—"

"My pleasure." He glanced shyly at Marlo who was biting her nail. "If you can think of anything at all that you need, please don't hesitate to call me."

I nodded and Marlo started walking him toward the door. "Oh," he said, turning back around and almost colliding with her. They both laughed uncomfortably, color staining his cheekbones. He really was a handsome man—sort of nerdy with his glasses and parted hair, but he had definite potential. He seemed to really like her—if his awkward, bumbling behavior around her was any indication.

He took what looked like a pharmacy bag out of his pocket. "Make sure your mother takes this just as instructed. The doctor seemed like he was optimistic that this cocktail would really work well for her."

We'd been optimistic before.

Marlo nodded. "I will. Thank you again."

He hesitated for just a second, but then he smiled and nodded at both of us and walked out the door of our trailer, shutting it firmly behind him. A few seconds later, we heard his car start up.

Marlo dropped down on the couch and let out a loud sigh.

I sat down next to her and turned my body toward her. She looked at me sideways. "I should be very upset with you, little sister."

"But you're not?" I asked.

She took a deep breath, looking thoughtful. "I guess not. Sam, he's . . . a nice guy, mostly harmless, I think." She tilted her head and bit her lip. "And he was very helpful with Mama."

I nodded. "She seemed tired, but better."

"Just the 'doctor' title, or maybe just the fact that he's a man, got him a lot further with the doctors on Mama's floor than you or I ever did. They put her on a new cocktail they thought would help her."

I frowned. "Cocktail . . . meaning a mixture of medications . . . meaning more than one . . . meaning—"

"We won't be able to afford it, I know." She looked worried. "And maybe it won't even work any better. But Dr. Nolan,
Sam
, he paid for the second medication even though I told him not to." She looked at me almost guiltily. "It was for Mama, though, so I let him." She looked down, biting her lip again.

"It was the right thing to do, Mar," I said. I knew she wouldn't do it again, though. And like she'd said, maybe the new combination of medication wouldn't make a difference anyway. Lord knew we'd been through enough medications that did nothing at all for Mama—some that even made her worse.

I eyed Marlo. "So, Sam . . . I think he really likes you."

She made a scoffing sound. "Sure, for now."

"Marlo—"

"No, listen. He's a nice guy and good-looking . . . But he's a successful man. He doesn't even
belong
here. Not really." She paused, thinking. "But he did help make the time there go by more quickly, so for that, I'm grateful."

"Thanks for taking this turn," I said. "Missing Christmas . . ."

She looked over at me sadly. "I had company at least, though. You, you were all alone in this trailer." She grabbed my hand. "I figured you spent it reading. Were you okay?"

I looked down, my cheeks heating.

"What's that look?"

I looked up and opened my mouth to speak, but hesitated.

"Tenleigh . . ." Marlo's voice held a warning note as if I better start speaking, and fast.

I smiled nervously. "I wasn't exactly alone. And I wasn't exactly here."

Her eyes grew wide. "What? Where the hell were you?"

She already knew Kyland had walked me home. I hesitantly told her everything that had happened before that, how I'd first met him just recently even though we were in school together and lived so close, what had happened at the library, the play . . .  She was my sister, my best friend. I told her everything.

When I was finished, she studied me for a moment. "Wow, Tenleigh. I certainly missed a lot when I was lying around in that waiting room." She paused, seeming to consider all I'd told her. "And, at least he's been honest with you about where you stand. At least you know he's leaving. He's not trying to trick you into something and then take off like most of them do."

I nodded sadly. I couldn't deny that had been our collective experience thus far, but something inside of me still wanted to argue against it. Something inside of me still wanted to believe some men were good and honorable. And sometimes they stayed.

Only Kyland wouldn't stay. He'd made that exceedingly clear.

"Can you handle it, Ten?" Marlo asked softly.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "But that might have been the extent of things anyway. You know, Christmas is lonely, and we have this attraction . . ." I ran a finger over my lips remembering the feel of his mouth on mine. "It might have just been the timing of everything, you know? That might be the extent of my non-relationship with Kyland Barrett." I sat up straighter. I'd be fine, though. I always was. I'd be fine because I had no other choice.

Marlo smiled and squeezed my hand. "I'm going to take a shower and then I'm going to go lie down with Mama," she said, standing up, yawning. "I barely got any sleep at all in that hospital waiting room. Although it sounds like you didn't get much either."

After she'd shut the bathroom door behind her, I sat on the couch alone again. After a few minutes, I grabbed my book and lay back. I had trouble concentrating, thoughts of Kyland swirling through my mind, a feeling of melancholy overwhelming my heart.