Labor of Love (10 page)

I
t wasn't until Jenna and I were back in our dorm room—with thirty seconds to spare before the two o'clock curfew—and I was getting ready for bed that I remembered the necklace I'd put in my pocket for safekeeping.

I sat on the edge of the bed and looked at it again. It was really pretty. I wished I'd bought one for myself. Next week, I would. I was sure the vendor would still be there.

“What's that?” Jenna asked.

“Oh, a necklace Brady bought for his sister.”

“He buys things for his sister? Wow. My brother doesn't know the first thing about buying me something.”

“I helped him pick it out.” Saying that
sounded weird. Like maybe we were shopping for something much more important.

“I'm really glad you're hanging out with him,” Jenna said.

“Only because it means he's not hanging out with Tank all the time, and you have some time alone.”

“Well, there is that. I'm so crazy about Tank, Dawn. It's scary sometimes.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But it's exciting, too. It's everything.” She sat in the middle of her bed and brought her legs up beneath her. “Did you feel that way about Drew?”

Did I? Gosh, it was suddenly hard to remember. All I could remember now was being hurt and angry at him. Like that moment of seeing him with someone else had totally destroyed any good feelings I'd ever had for him. Had I been scared when he asked me out? Nervous? Excited?

“I can't remember, Jenna. That's so weird.”

“You know, sometimes I think about what Sara said about you rebuilding. I thought she was talking about New Orleans. But what if
she was talking about your heart?”

“She didn't know my heart needed rebuilding.”

“She doesn't need to
know
stuff. She just sees things. She said you had to be careful with the tools. I thought she meant hammers and saws. What if she meant Brady?”

I flopped back on the bed. “You're really giving too much thought to all this.”

“It's the puzzle solver in me. I can't help it.”

I rolled my head to the side and looked at her. “She said I could get hurt. If I wasn't careful. Jenna, I don't think I've been careful. I think I've fallen for him.”

“That's a good thing, Dawn. It means you're over Drew.”

“No, it means I've set myself up to be hurt again. We agreed this was a Big Easy–only relationship.”

“So, change the terms of your agreement.”

“What if he doesn't want to?”

She sighed. “Do you have to doubt everything?”

I sat up. “Me? Doubting? You're the one trying to figure everything out, trying to solve
the puzzles, wanting all the answers.”

She came off the bed. “Well, I've never been in love before, and I don't know if I like it. I thought having a boyfriend would stop all the questions, but there's just more of them.”

I smiled. “Yeah, it's a bummer, isn't it?”

“The future is just so”—she threw her hands up—“vague. There are just so many possibilities.”

“And going to see a psychic sure doesn't help.”

“No, it doesn't.” She sat back down on the bed. “So what are we going to do?”

“You think
I
know?”

Laughing, she shook her head. “No, actually, I think you're probably more confused than I am.”

“Well, thanks a lot.”

Her cell phone rang and we both jumped. Then mine rang.

“Time for good-night calls,” she said.

Okay, I guessed tonight we'd moved to a new level. I mean, we'd spoken that one night before I went to bed, but it had been on Jenna's phone, so it didn't really count. Oh, heck, maybe it did.

I answered, “Hey.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.” I stretched out, rolled onto my side, and my knee touched the sack the necklace had been in. “I forgot to give you your sister's necklace.”

“It's yours.”

My brow furrowed. “What? No, I'm not talking about the beads, I'm talking about—”

“The fleur-de-lis.”

“Yeah.”

“I bought it for you. Why do you think I let you pick it out?”

“But you said it was for her.”

“I thought you'd go all weird on me if I bought you something.”

“Weird?” I said, offended. “I don't go weird.”

“You go weird. You worry about what I really feel or what you really feel or what we're thinking. You're expecting me to hurt you, and I don't know how to make you stop expecting that.”

I wrapped my hand around the charm. “I'm a mess. I don't know why you hang out with me.”

“I hang out with you because I like you.
You're funny and fun and you believe in ghosts—”

“I don't believe in ghosts. I just had some weird stuff happen tonight.”

“Are you sleeping with the light on?”

I hated to admit it, but—

“Yeah, we probably will. Jenna wants to.” When in doubt, blame it on your friend. I figured we'd at least keep on the light in the bathroom with the door partially opened.

“About the necklace,” I said.

“Yeah?” I heard the impatience in his voice, maybe even a little bit of anger. I couldn't imagine Brady being angry.

“Thank you. I really wanted one for myself, and this one will always be special. Remind me of my time here. My time with you.”

“Good.”

“But, you were very sneaky having me pick it out.”

“I thought it was clever. If I'd known you longer, I might have known what to get, but we're on the short-term plan here. Right?”

“Yeah. Short term.”

“End of summer.”

“End of New Orleans.” And that made me sad.

“Okay, then. See you tomorrow.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I figure the least you can do is my laundry.”

“What?”

He laughed. “No go, huh? I don't know what we'll do, but it'll be sometime in the afternoon. I do have to get my clothes washed. Maybe we'll just hang out by the pool.”

“I like that idea. I could use a day of not doing anything.”

“Okay. Then. Tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Night.”

I closed my phone, set it aside, sat up, and looked at the necklace. I could feel myself smiling. It was the smile of someone who was totally and completely happy. It was the smile of someone who wasn't worried about getting hurt.

I put the necklace on. It felt right. Suddenly everything did. I wasn't even worried about Saraphina's prediction.

But maybe I should have continued to worry about being careful.

T
hings were coming along nicely on the house. We were getting to the details. Jenna and I were hammering the trim around the windows that had been replaced.

The four of us had spent last Sunday at a lake near where we were staying, just relaxing. Sometimes we got together after we were finished building for the day. Sometimes it was just Brady and me. It seemed like we could always find something to talk about. And when we weren't talking, we were kissing.

“Hey, catch!” Brady yelled.

I looked over, dropped the hammer, and caught the bottle of water he tossed my way. He'd set his watch to go off every hour and he
brought me a bottle when he grabbed one for himself. I sat down on the edge of the porch, removed my safety goggles and hard hat, and set them aside. I twisted the cap and took a long swallow of the cold water. It tasted so good.

Brady leaned against the beam. I watched a droplet trail down his bare chest. A silly thing to be fascinated watching, but fascinated I was. Just about everything about him fascinated me.

“Do you have a sec?” he asked.

I felt my cheeks warm as I lifted my gaze to his, certain my brow was furrowed and a question was in my eyes. We'd been really good about not sneaking off for stolen kisses. I wasn't sure Jenna could say the same. From time to time, she disappeared. Tank was usually AWOL at the same time.

Brady jerked his head to the side. “I want to show you something.”

“What?”

He grinned. “If I could tell you, I wouldn't have to show you. Come on.”

I got up and walked beside him as he headed toward the street, then sauntered along the line of cars that was parked against the curb. He had
a lazy stride—which was odd because I knew he wasn't at all lazy. He was probably one of the hardest workers here. Me, I took a break every fifteen minutes just to catch my breath, dip a towel into ice water, and wrap it around my neck to cool down. I couldn't imagine what it would be like around here come August. Next year, I thought, I'd do this volunteer work over spring break, when it wasn't quite as hot yet.

Yeah, I was already making plans to come back. I really liked New Orleans. It had so much to offer, and we hadn't even explored everything yet.

When we got to Tank's car, Brady stopped, reached into his back pocket, pulled something out, and held it toward me. It looked like white cardboard, folded in half.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Open it.”

I set my water bottle on the trunk of the car, took the cardboard, and unfolded it. It was a colorful butterfly. A temporary tattoo. I laughed.

“I saw it at the convenience store where we stopped to get coffee this morning,” Brady said. “It reminded me of you.”

I squinted up at him. I hadn't put my sunglasses on. The sun was bright, but his smile was brighter.

“I see.”

“I could put it on you if you want.”

“What? Right now?”

His grin, if at all possible, grew wider. “Yeah. Why not? Lean on the trunk.”

He took the towel from around my neck and poured some water from his water bottle on it. I glanced around. It seemed kind of wicked in a way, and sort of silly, too.

“Why not?” I repeated, handed him the tattoo, and leaned against the car. I lifted my T-shirt slightly and pushed the waistband of my jeans down just a tad, near my left hip.

I felt him lay the piece of paper against my skin, felt the damp towel against my back. “That's cold!”

“Bet it feels good, though,” he said.

In no time at all he was peeling back the paper. “Perfect.”

I moved around him and looked in the side-view mirror, twisting around slightly, so I could see my backside. All I could see was part of the
wings peeking out above the waistband of my jeans.

“Sexy,” Brady said.

His voice dropped a notch or two, and it sent a shiver along my spine. I'd never had a guy tell me I was sexy before. I liked it. I liked it a lot.

He put his hands on either side of my hips and drew me closer. “I had an ulterior motive in giving you the tattoo. Now I can say something innocent like, ‘I'd like to see the bottom half of that tattoo.'” He wiggled his eyebrows. “And it might not be innocent at all.”

“Yeah, well, you should have taken a good look at it when you were applying it, because that was probably the last time you'll see the bottom half.” I stood on tiptoes and nipped his chin. He had a really nice chin. Strong, sturdy. It matched his strong jaw.

I'd always thought a guy's eyes were his best feature, revealed the most about him. But the truth was, there wasn't anything about Brady that I didn't think was darn near perfect.

“We'll see,” he said in a low voice, like a challenge. I knew he was still talking about the tattoo and wanting to see all of it again.

A week later, I moved from hammering outside to painting bedroom walls.

I'd called Amber and given her the measurements for the windows and told her that I was going to paint the little girls' rooms pink. Brady had borrowed Tank's car to take me shopping for the paint. I'd bought it myself, because the builder who was donating the supplies had brought only cream-colored paint. And while cream is a nice neutral color, little girls should have something special.

I dipped the roller into the pan, then began rolling it over the walls again. When we'd first started working on the house it smelled of mildew and rot. Now it smelled of paint, of new. It smelled wonderful.

I'd never been involved in something that made me feel this good about myself.

“Hey, guess who just got here?” Jenna asked from the doorway.

I turned around, but before I could answer,
she said, “It's Amber. Come on.”

I'd known that, of course. Just as Sara had predicted. Back from her doubts.

I was so ready to see her again. I hurried through the house—in Jenna's wake—and stepped out onto the porch. And there Amber was, running across the yard that when we'd first arrived had been littered. Now the house was almost completed.

I hopped off the porch and rushed to her, reaching her at the same time that Jenna did. We did a three-person hug, laughing. Hopping up and down. Going in a circle. I had so much to tell her. So much to share.

I wanted to hear about everything that had happened at home, too. She'd hardly called, so I knew she'd been wrapped up in Chad. That's the way it is when you have a boyfriend. You spend so much time with him. I wanted to hear it all.

She leaned back, and her smile dimmed. “I didn't come alone.”

“I know. Saraphina told me you wouldn't,” I said.

She frowned, worried, so typical. “She knew
I was coming back?”

I nodded. “With a guy with black hair.”

I looked past her. At the black-haired guy standing a few feet away.

Drew.

The very last person I wanted to see.

I spun on my heel and walked back into the house, back to the bedroom I'd been painting.

Without saying a word to Drew. Without even acknowledging his existence, his presence, his intrusion on my life.

I picked up the roller and started rolling it over the wall in a frenzy—almost insanely. It was a little frightening really. But I thought the problem was that painting wasn't nearly as cathartic as hammering.

I really wanted to feel a hammer in my hand right now.

This place, this city, this house in a demolished neighborhood, had been my paradise. My sanctuary. It had been untainted. No memories of Drew. This was a Drew-less place.

I'd been happy. I'd been really happy.

I'd stopped thinking about Drew before I
went to sleep. I didn't want to see him, didn't want to talk to him, didn't want him to creep back into my life.

I heard footsteps. If it was Drew, I was going to pick up the can of paint and throw its contents on him.

“Dawn?”

It was Amber. I set down the roller, faced her, and crossed my arms over my chest. Jenna was standing beside her. Was she there to support Amber or me? I'd lost my boyfriend. Was I going to lose my friends?

“What were you thinking?” I asked. It was all I could do not to shout.

And knowing Amber, she probably hadn't been thinking.

“Chad and I broke up,” she said.

“You're kidding?” Jenna looked dumb-struck.

“Why would she kid about that?” I asked. “And how does that even remotely begin to explain bringing Drew here?”

Ignoring me, Jenna asked, “Why did you and Chad break up?”

“Because I wanted to do something meaningful with my summer, and he wanted to rent DVDs for TV shows he hadn't seen and do season marathons. All the different seasons of
24
. All the different seasons of
Monk
and
Lost
and
Scrubs
. I just wanted more.”

“But you told me that he was interested in coming,” I reminded her.

“He said he was, but he really wasn't. He was just humoring me. He didn't really care about what I wanted.”

“So you broke up with him?” Jenna asked.

Amber nodded. “Plus, I couldn't stop thinking about Sean.”

“He's with Sara,” I said.

I knew it was mean, but I took some satisfaction in telling her that. I was upset that she'd brought Drew here.

I know sometimes she says things that are out there, but this was beyond out there. This was plain stupid.

“Well, Sean's not
with
her, with her,” Amber said. “I mean, I know they've been hanging out together, but they're just friends. She's way
older than he is. And he's called me.”

I couldn't believe this. Everything was such a mess.

“You broke up with Chad so you could get together with Sean?” Jenna asked.

Jenna still wanted details. I wanted Drew out of there.

“I broke up with Chad because watching TV isn't enough for me. And if Sean isn't the one Sara was referring to—what I'll have better in college—I'm okay with that. I just knew Chad was wrong.”

“But you loved him.”

Amber nodded. “I know it seems all screwed up, but I know I did the right thing.”

“Maybe you did the right thing about Chad,” I said, “but Drew? Why bring him?”

“Because I needed a way to get here, and he has a car,” Amber explained.

“You could have flown, your parents could have brought you, you could have hitchhiked.” Although I knew that was a dangerous option and really didn't want her to risk it—I was upset. Anything was better than seeing Drew again.

“He wanted to help out, though, so it seemed like a perfect solution.”

I couldn't believe this. “Amber—”

“I know you're still mad at him, but you should at least talk to him. He's sorry—”

“Oh, he's sorry, all right.”

“Prom night was a moment of weakness.”

What a crappy excuse. I wasn't buying it. And while she wasn't usually good at figuring things out, she read the expression on my face perfectly.

“Look, he wants to get back together with you,” she said.

“Ain't happening.”

“But you need closure.”

“I hate that word. I had closure. I slammed his car door
closed
and walked away.”

“And never talked to him again?”

“There was nothing to say. There still isn't.”

“I think you're wrong. I think there's a lot more to say.”

No, there wasn't. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I didn't care about Drew anymore. I didn't care about him at all.

I headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Amber asked.

“To take care of something.”

I walked into the kitchen where Brady and some other guys were supposed to be working.

And there was Drew.

The guys were standing around talking to him, but I knew that nothing he said was important. Everything was a lie. Especially when he said he loved you.

Brady stepped out of the circle just a little bit when he saw me.

Drew turned around and took a step toward me, his hands out, his smile…God, it looked so fake, so stupid. How had I ever trusted it?

“Dawn—”

I walked right by him. Totally ignoring him. I went up to Brady, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him.

Energetically, thoroughly. Maybe even a little desperately.

He pulled back and gave me a funny look. Then he took my hand. “Come on.”

He led me past Drew, whose mouth was hanging open.

Good,
I thought.
Now you know how it feels.

 

“What was going on back there?”

Brady was leaning against Tank's car, his sunglasses on, his arms crossed over his chest.

“I was missing you.”

“Dawn, I deserve better than that.”

I looked down at the grass and could see some shards of broken glass. Would we ever get everything cleaned up?

“He was your boyfriend, wasn't he?”

Nodding, I looked up.

“You were trying to make him jealous.”

Well, okay, maybe I was. Maybe I wanted him to see what he gave up.

“Which means you still feel something for him,” Brady finished.

“I don't! Not at all. He's such a jerk!” I felt tears burn my eyes. “I hate him.”

“Hate's a feeling.”

“It's not a good feeling. It's not like I care.”

“Why's he here?” Brady asked.

“He gave Amber a lift. He wants to help.”

“That's it?”

His voice dripped with skepticism. This was a side of Brady I'd never seen. Impatient.

I shifted from one foot to the other, while I decided whether to confirm what he suspected. “He wants us to get back together.”

“Do you?”