One Black Rose (14 page)

I stared at him so long he said, “What?” but I only turned on my heel and walked away.

“Lets get going,” I said over my shoulder. “Carley’s going to be worried sick.” I slammed into Holt’s car and sat there with my arms folded.

Holt got in and looked at me carefully. “What are you mad about?” He asked.

I raised my eyebrows at him.

“You and I have to talk,” I said, folding my arms over my chest. I felt more prepared for battle that way. He had started the car and we were rolling back down the dirt road, Nick finally following behind.

“About what?” he asked, carefully avoiding my eyes.

“About all the weird things that happen around you,” I exploded. I went through a list of the flowers, people’s strange reaction to him, the fight with Samuel, his sudden desire not to have anything to do with me, and now that mud just sliding off him like it was never there. Wild hand gestures assisted me in making big points. “I deserve to know why you hate me.”

He gaped at me. “What? I don’t hate you! How could you think that?”

“Because you don’t want to have anything to do with me!” I cried. “Because even before you told me you couldn’t see me, you wouldn’t touch me! What else am I supposed to think?”

“That’s not it at all,” said Holt quietly. “Far from it.”

I didn’t know what to say. If he didn’t hate me then what reason would he have for pushing me away?

Finally he took a deep breath and said, “We can talk, but not right now. It’s complicated. I’m sorry, Autumn. We’ll get Nick home and reunited with Carley so she can beat him up or whatever she’s planning on doing to him, then we’ll go out to the garden and I’ll explain everything I can. Plus, I’d like you to meet my family before.…” He trailed off.

I wanted for him to finish the sentence, but he didn’t. I tried to relax. This was a start, and if he wanted me to meet his family he couldn’t completely hate me after all. No matter what, at least I’d know what was going on after we talked. Even though it might hurt like hell, I needed to know. I was exhausted from the last week. I hadn’t slept. I’d worried about Holt hating me, but now he said he didn’t. And now he’d explain.

Good. Finally.

I hoped it would be a simple explanation, like a “My family and the Cheshires fought over land and now we hate each other” kind of thing, but somehow I knew it wouldn’t be so easy. Somehow I knew that after today, after Holt told me what was going on, the very last thing anything would be was easy.

I stared at my phone as we drove, waiting to have enough bars so I could call Carley. When I got her on the line she was frantic. In a rush she said that no one had found Nick and that he was probably dead somewhere or had flung himself off a cliff because of their fight, and was now dying of injuries because no one knew where he was. I told her where we’d found Nick and that he was a little tired but fine. Instantly she started screaming an incoherent rant about how rude Nick was. It took me five minutes to calm her down. Finally she just said she’d get to the Roths’ house as soon as she could, and hung up. Holt and I made the rest of the drive in silence.

As Holt pulled into his driveway I realized I’d never gotten a good look at the front of his house; it was mostly blocked by the garden. I saw that there was a large courtyard and on one side a four-car garage attached to the house. Holt parked in front of it and we got out of the car to meet Nick, who had parked his mud-covered car further away.

Standing right in front of the door to Holt’s house, I could finally appreciate how massive and imposing it was. White columns surrounded me on either side and the windows were framed with dark drapes. I was really nervous about meeting Holt’s family, especially since I had no idea what was going on with Holt, and until just a little while ago had thought he hated me.

Holt opened the door and we walked into an entryway. There was a carpeted staircase winding upwards directly in front of us, with thick wooden doors surrounded by white molding on either side. I could see a closed door straight ahead.

The floor was wood covered by a massive carpet with a flower design. I saw that the design on the carpet was a single rose.

“I’m going to take him to get changed,” said Holt, pointing up the stairs. “You can wait in here.”

I followed him to the door on the right, which he opened. It was a library, painted a bright yellow but with books lining most of the walls. The furniture was leather and modern; as Holt and Nick left I sank gratefully onto the couch. There was a stack of magazines on a small side table and I grabbed one and started to flip through it while I waited.

Once Holt had left the room, though, my nerves took over. I felt awkward and out of place and I wondered why I had let Carley convince me to text Holt that morning. He was the one who said we couldn’t be friends, and then I’d forced myself on him. Granted, I thought I deserved an explanation for whatever was going on, but I still felt awful being in his house and sitting on his couch. If he didn’t want anything to do with me, I should just leave him alone.

I was still sitting there a few minutes later when the door burst open and in came Casey and Susan.

“Hi!” said Susan, almost squealing in delight.

I put the magazine away and stood up. “Hi,” I said, waiting to see what would come next.

Susan was dressed in a gorgeous white summer dress, and her hair fell almost down to her waist in ringlets. I was acutely aware that I was still in my PJs and jacket from that morning.

“It’s so nice to see you,” she said, coming forward and wringing my hand. Before I had a chance to catch my breath she enveloped me in a hug. “I just know we’re going to be the best of friends.”

“Do you need anything?” she asked. “Water? Food? Anything at all -- we’d be happy to get it for you.”

“No, thanks,” I said. After eating most of Carley’s breakfast I probably wouldn’t be hungry for a month.

“Hey, I see you found Autumn,” said Holt, coming in. He had obviously showered, because his hair hung loose and damp around his head, only making him more attractive.

“We were just introducing ourselves,” said Susan, who moved to give Holt a hug.

Casey went to the window and peered out. “Carley is here.”

The four of us went into the hall to meet her.

“Where’s Nick, Holt?” I asked him.

“He’s coming,” he replied. “He had more to wash off than I did. I’m not sure those clothes he was wearing are savable.”

Holt opened the front door so that Carley didn’t have to knock. She looked like a thundercloud about to burst, but when she saw Holt she calmed down a little. He ushered her inside and said, “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she answered; now she was outright smiling. “Just came to see Nick.”

“He should be alright now,” said Holt.

I watched as Holt calmed Carley down and I remembered how his presence had affected Olivia at the restaurant.

“Do you need anything?” asked Susan, stepping forward. “You look like you could use some hot tea.”

With surprise I realized that Susan was right. I’d been so busy watching the interaction between Holt and Carley that I hadn’t noticed she was still dressed in her PJs. She didn’t look happy about it, either.

“That would be great,” she said.

“Let’s all go to the kitchen,” said Casey.

She led the way towards the closed door I had seen when I got there and everyone else followed behind. I could hear Holt and Carley lost in quiet conversation. I was grateful to him for distracting my friend from her worry about Nick, and glad that no matter what went on between us he’d still be there for my friends if they needed him.

The kitchen was just as amazing as the library. Everything in it was black or white. The countertops were white marble; gleaming pots and pans hung against the backdrop of white walls while the fridge and stove were black. Huge bay windows looked over the garden. I felt a slight twitch, but seeing the garden didn’t disorient me this time.

I forced my attention back to the room.

“Hi, everyone,” said Nick, coming through the doorway just as Susan was putting a pot of water on for tea and the rest of us were seating ourselves around the counter island.

“Nicholas Michael Farnsworth, how DARE YOU DO THAT TO ME?” As she said it, Carley jumped out of the seat she’d just sat in and went over and smacked Nick on the shoulder.

“Ouch, Carley,” said Nick, rubbing the injured area. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Didn’t think I’d care? How could you not think I’d care?” she almost screamed at him.

“Carley, come on. I was fine,” said Nick.

“If I have anything to say about it you won’t be in another five minutes,” she said.

“Why don’t you two sit down? Carley, if you really want to kill him do it outside. Less messy,” said Holt, grinning.

“Thanks a lot,” muttered Nick, but Carley got out of his way so that he could join everyone else around the island.

While Susan prepared tea, Holt motioned to me. I paused for a minute, enjoying the conversation as Carley continuing to chide Nick, but I got up and followed Holt when he asked me to. No one commented when we left. Even though he had said we’d talk, I was surprised he’d leave Nick and Carley with Susan and Casey. But I knew Susan and Casey would take good care of them.

My heart started thumping faster when I realized he was leading me into the garden. For a few minutes we walked quietly along, getting lost (at least I did) in the paths and smells. Holt didn’t say anything, but soon he led me gently to a small alcove that I didn’t remember seeing the other times I’d come in.

The alcove was like a small courtyard, covered in stones. There were walls of stone that reached over my head and even the floor was covered in flagstones. Carved into the wall in front of me was a design: A black rose. It was beautiful. Two stone benches stood opposite each other. In front of me was a half stone wall. I started to walk towards the stone wall, to see over it, but instead, for the first time since I’d met him, Holt took my hand.

Everything else fell away as I felt his touch. My hand felt alive and tingly, like I had just touched magic I’d only thought possible in a dream. Involuntarily, I smiled.

My fingers flexed around his and I was sure that no matter what happened there was no way I’d be able to let go of his hand.

I looked up at him. His eyes were like churning waves, an even deeper green than usual, with shots of silver froth.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

I wasn’t even sure I could speak, so I just nodded. He led me to one of the benches and sat down, never letting go of my hand.

I sat next to him on the bench, waiting for him to stay something. He just stared down at our intertwined hands as if in awe. I had no idea why I was reacting to his touch that way, but maybe he had known it would happen and that’s why he hadn’t touched me?

As usual lately, I didn’t get it.

“I….” He paused, but quickly started again. “I want to tell you a story. Of sorts. It’s up to you to decide…what you believe. And what you want. What you want is very important.”

“You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to,” I said. At that moment I meant it. All I cared about was that he keep holding my hand.

“No,” he said. “I do. Now more than ever.” He squeezed my hand reassuringly.

“Can’t we just sit for a little while like this? I don’t want anything to ruin it,” I said.

He looked me right in the eye, leaning very close. “Nothing will ruin this,” he said fiercely. “Nothing. Ever. No matter what, we will always be friends.”

He took a deep breath, as if he wasn’t sure where to begin.

“I knew from the moment I saw you,” he said, “that you were one of the special ones. You could smell the flowers. You knew what I did at the airport. It was amazing. But I also knew from the moment I saw you…that you weren’t meant for me.”

I felt my heart sink.

“And you’ve noticed some odd things happening,” he said. “Stuff with flowers, stuff with people, all the girls I hang out with…Samuel.”

“I thought you must have a family feud or something,” I said desperately.

“We do,” said Holt, nodding. “You have no idea. It’s just not what you’re imagining.”

“So, just tell me,” I burst out.

Holt continued to stall for a while, but finally he stood up, still holding my hand. “It might be better if I show you.”

He put his hand on the bench, smacking it gently against the cold stone. At first nothing happened. I frowned. What did he think he was doing?

But then slowly, at first so gradually I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, vines came out of nowhere and started to creep up the stone of the bench, stretching from all around to rise up and encase it. I was forced to jump to my feet.

After the vines had settled, flowers followed them. They started small, but grew to burst forth in a gorgeous array of blues, yellows, pinks, whites, and purples. All the while Holt kept one hand on the bench and the other entwined with mine and I stared, transfixed by what I saw.

Finally, the growing slowed and then came to a complete stop. The bench was now covered with a cushion of flowers. So much so that I couldn’t even see the original stones underneath.