Pucker Up (13 page)

“It’s
okay, sweetie.  It’s all okay.”

“I
screwed it all up.  Everything.  I blackened everything I touched, and I broke
everything I left.”

She
heard the chuckle in Peter’s reply.  “Come now, it’s not that bad.  You sound
like an Andy Peters song.” 

Her
body stiffened, and she pulled away, not meeting his eyes.  She wiped the tears
from her cheeks and decided this truth was less damaging than that one.  “We
were so young and fighting so much and… and the baby was like a sign.  A sign
that we could work it out, be all in.  That we had to grow up and stop being so
petty and stupid because we were meant to be.  Parents, at least, if not
nauseating lovebirds.”

The
universe, she’d thought, had sent her something good.  A happy ending.  She was
getting married only once in her life, and she couldn’t think of a better time
to do it – starting a new future with the man of her dreams and their baby.  She’d
already had a full life by twenty-one – lived plenty of dreams, and it was time
to try a new adventure.  The travel and the time apart and all the obligations
– they’d work themselves out.  Here was the reason she was born – to do this.

 But
the universe changed its mind.  “And then we lost her.  And all the reasons
we’d stood in front of a preacher and vowed to stay together forever, all the
reasons to become better versions of ourselves and grow up, we lost them too. 
All of them.”

“Not
all of them,” Peter whispered.  “You still had love.”

Faith
opened her mouth to reply but couldn’t tell him what she overheard in the
hospital that had her running into a storm barely four hours later.  She just
shook her head, staring at her hands in her lap.  “It wouldn’t have been
enough.”

Peter
settled a hand over hers and she knew he was shaking his head in disagreement. 
It would have been enough.  Maybe she’d known that all along too.  Every single
moment she’d been here – fighting in the kitchen, crying on the porch, kissing
in the bedroom – she’d seen it.  In the way Dustin looked at her, spoke to her,
growled at her.  Recrimination asking why she didn’t stay.  And now none of it
seemed to matter.  Here her actions were all stripped of perspective; she was
the villain and he was the hero.  She’d never written that song before.  

Faith
slipped her hands away from Peter and stood.  “I had reasons.  Real reasons. 
My
reasons.  I didn’t just decide to crush the man I loved because I could.  You
think I wasn’t crying my eyes out the whole time?  You think it didn’t crush me,
too?”   He reached a hand towards her, but she stepped away, knowing the tears
would never stop falling if he offered her comfort again.  “I’m tired of being
cast as the bad guy, Peter.  I need to get out of here before I start believing
it myself.”

Dustin
sat on the floor of his study, leaning back against his desk, elbows on his
knees and head in his hands.  He felt like he’d been shot, a gaping wound
through his heart.  All he’d wanted to do was touch her again, feel the warmth
of her skin, coax a smile onto her face.  Remembering the moment he fell in
love with her had him yearning beyond reason – and she was still in his house. 

For
ten years he’d been so sure she didn’t pay either of them any mind, left him
and continued on with her headline-making life – parties and pop stars and
sequins and smiles.  He never once gave any pause on what she was feeling – she
was the one that left.

But
every minute she’d been in the house, guarded and searching, she’d been telling
him exactly the opposite.  If she didn’t think of him, why did she come?  Why
did she blanch when she saw he was home?  Why did she look at him with
melancholy eyes that seared into his skin?  Why did she stay?

He
knew why she left him that night.  Her life had been full of sunshine and
rainbows up to that point, always getting what she wanted, always off to
another adventure.  He’d never understood why she’d fallen in love with a man
like him, one who couldn’t give her any of that.  She said she didn’t need him
to give her anything, just love.  And this girl who’d never been disappointed
or downtrodden, she got dealt an insurmountable blow.  The best day of their
life, their wedding day, shattered into a million pieces with one soft-spoken
I’m
so sorry
from a man in a white coat.

And
Faith couldn’t deal.  Instead she ran from it as quick as she could with not
one look back.  That included him and his heartbreak and everything that their
life was supposed to be.  He’d run after her into the rain, trying to reach
through her fog of sadness, but a car crash intervened.  She hadn’t been there
when he woke up; then and there he decided to wash his hands of her.  It was
his turn in the hospital, and she hadn’t been there to hold his hand.

But
had he been wrong?  About all of it?

Dustin
heard the front door slam and didn’t look up, barely registering the sound. 
When it happened again less than a minute later, he raised his head slightly. 
Just enough to see Peter set himself in the doorway.  “Well, you’re getting
your wish.”

“Which
one is that?” Dustin asked.

“Faith. 
She’s leaving.”

“What
did you say to her?”

Peter
scoffed.  “Yeah, like this is my fault.  What did you say to her?”

“Nothing
at all,” Dustin said.  He just saw her, really saw her, since the first moment
she stepped into the house.  Her sadness, her yearning, her scars. 

“So
you’re just going to let her go?”

“That’s
what I’ve been saying I wanted, right?” Dustin murmured, almost to himself.

“That’s
what you’ve been
saying
.”

Dustin
thought about the tattoo, lemons growing together, and vaulted up from the
floor. 

“What
are you doing?”

“What
does it look like I’m doing?”  Faith looked at the clothes in her hands,
reflected in the bathroom mirror, and disgust rose inside her again.  She
turned and threw them in the garbage can.  She didn’t want to be reminded of
anything that had happened here.

Dustin
stood like a wall in front of her, taking up the whole doorway.  Silence built
the tension, a thick fog she couldn’t see around.  “How long are you going to
stand there?” she asked.

“As
long as I have to.”

Faith
rolled her eyes.  “What movie did you step out of, He-man?”  

“A
very predictable one.  Now tell me what you’re doing.”

“What
does it looks like?  I’m packing.  I’m leaving.  I’m getting the hell out of Dodge.”

“If
this is about the tattoo – ”

“I
do
not
want to talk about that.”  She didn’t ever want to talk about
that, least of all with him.  “Cordial was a pipe dream.  I’ve worn out my
welcome.  It’s time I go.”

“Your
car’s not fixed.”

“I
don’t care.  Keep it.”

He
rolled his eyes at that, and she could see the judgment taking hold.  She was
so tired of seeing that from him; it was the only emotion he had when there was
no chance of bare skin in sight.  “Stop it!” she yelled.

“Stop
looking at me like that.  You think I’m frivolous – I don’t care.  One Audi is
more than worth the price of escape.  So I don’t have to see what you think of
me.  How you judge me.  How you break me.  I have done the best I could, and
obviously that wasn’t good enough for you.  Hell, maybe you’re even right about
that.  But I’m done apologizing for it.  Ten years is damn well long enough.”

Not
one inch of him moved – the same stoic expression, powerful stance, even
breath.  “Please let me pass.”  The memory of him had been standing in her way
for a decade.  She needed to move past the worry and fear and uncertainty. 
Past the uncontrollable needing and wanting.  Past this reality – where they
knew everything yet nothing at all.

Their
eyes met, for a thousand moments or barely one.  He stepped aside, and she
steeled herself for walking by as she left, afraid he’d reach for her. “Don’t go,”
Dustin whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t
go.”  He looked at her through the doorway.  “I can’t watch you walk away
again.”

“What
do you want from me?” Her voice broke as she asked it.

He
growled in reply, as if the words were ripped from him.  “I don’t know.”  And
then he was across the room, his hands cupping her face, his mouth pillaging
hers.  The kiss was intense – their tongues dancing together with lightning
speed, as if they’d never stopped – and then it was over.

Dustin
leaned his forehead against hers, and she trembled with uncertainty.  He
grabbed her hand and placed it right over his heart, drawing her even closer. 
The quick rhythm under her fingers belied the stillness of everything else.  “I
can’t watch you leave again.  Please don’t.  Stay.”

She
shouldn’t agree – not with her composure crumbling around her.  But she also
couldn’t forget the last time he’d asked her to stay, screamed the words after
her.  Faith couldn’t ignore such a request twice, not when it was whispered
against her skin.  She nodded reluctantly.  “Okay.  I’ll stay until tomorrow.” 
She bit her lip, remembering what tomorrow was – their anniversary.

Harmony
dropped down into an armchair in the living room and pulled out her cell
phone.  She was supposed to be doing her homework, but Dad must have lasting
brain damage from a motorcycle accident if he thought she could concentrate on
anything but their houseguest.  She’d promised she wouldn’t tell any of her
friends about Faith until after she was gone, and she had no problem with that;
how was she going to find them their happily ever after if awestruck teenagers started
camping out on the lawn?

Since
she couldn’t text any of her friends, she texted her sister instead.
 I
think I have seen House Arrest too many times. 

Melody’s
response was instantaneous. 
Why is that?

Because
I’m starting to think that locking Uncle Dust and the pop star in the barn
would be the best plan of action.  Would probably make a good movie too.

Harmony
laughed at the response, hearing Melody’s droll tone as she read it. 
Aren’t
we dealing with enough movie mayhem at the moment?

Maybe 
J

Melody
didn’t reply, so Harmony just stared off into the corner, wondering what she
was even trying to do.  The famous bedtime story had made it all sound so
wonderful.  Two people meeting at Sorrento Ranch while they were off having adventures. 
Falling in love during a summer filled with runaway horses and campfires and a
lemon tree that needed tending.  It was one of the reasons Harmony loved Bea
and the ranch so much – it had always been a place filled with mystery,
romance, and adventure.

She
wondered now how much of the story was actually true and how much was just
Uncle Dust telling them the way he wished it had gone.  His tale was fairly
true to the Apple Lodge movies, the pop star angle notwithstanding.  Uncle Dust
had never mentioned that.  First time she’d watched Apple Lodge and noted the
similarities, she’d been sure it was one of those Disney additions.  Anything
to craft a hit soundtrack; it had worked for
Camp Rock
.  Now it seemed
that was completely wrong – the pop star had been there all along.

“Harmony? 
Ah, there you are.”  Peter walked into the living room.  When he saw her curled
into the chair, his brow creased.  “What are you doing sitting here in the
dark?”

“It’s
not that dark,” she protested.  “The sun just slipped behind a cloud or
something.”

He
perched himself on the arm of the chair and reached a hand out to her.  “Maybe
I should have asked what you’re doing sitting in here alone.”

Harmony
shrugged, not really sure herself.  “Thinking, I guess.”

“About
how I’m an alien imposter?”

She
grinned at that, some spirit coming back into her face.  “Definitely.  Real Earthlings
would never make me go to sleep with only a few chapters left in my book.”

“I
knew I missed something in the orientation video.”

She
turned inquiring eyes on her father.  “Why can’t everyone just be happy?”

“Ah,”
Peter said.  “So this is about your uncle.”

“And
you,” she said, moving to sit up a bit.  “I don’t understand why it has to be
so hard.  They have feelings for each other, right?”

“Harmony,
honey… It’s complicated.”

“Why
does it have to be?”  She let her head fall back against the cushion and stared
at the ceiling.  “I thought growing up was supposed to make things less
confusing.”

“That
is the great lie of adulthood.”  Peter pushed his daughter over to drop down
next to her in the chair.  She laid her head against his shoulder and curled
into his embrace.

“Gee,
sounds like so much to look forward to.”  Peter laughed at her dry tone and
placed a kiss against her forehead. 

“What
they forget to tell you is life gets in the way of all the fun.  When you’re
young, your parents take care of all the scary stuff so the only responsibility
you have is to run and jump and laugh and play.”

“So
adults can’t do any of that stuff?”

 “Hey,”
Peter said, sounding affronted, “you know I laugh all the time.  The jumping
might be ill-advised though.”  He paused before continuing.  “It just isn’t as
useful to solve problems.”

Harmony
was quiet for a moment.  “She’s the reason, right, Dad?  The reason he’s sad.”

“Yeah,
Peaches,” he murmured, “she’s the reason.”

“And
the story – it’s true?”

“More
or less.”

Her
voice got small.  “And there’s nothing we can do about it?”

“Well…
I didn’t say that, now did I?”

Faith
sat on the back porch, watching the breeze rustle the plants.  Dustin had
shaken her with his plea for her to stay, and then disappeared to parts
unknown.  She still felt unsteady, as if she was going to crumble apart any
moment.  What was she doing here?  What had possessed her to ditch her guests
for ghosts?

She’d
had her cell phone on silent since she arrived, avoiding Jackson asking for
status reports, but pulled it out now, needing to connect with someone who wouldn’t
tie her up into knots.  She clicked on Madison’s name, and a string of unread
silly messages appeared.  The last one was different. 
We didn’t scare you
away, did we?  I’ve been told we can be rather overwhelming.

Faith
smiled as she replied. 
What, you?  Never.

The
response was instantaneous. 
She lives!
 

And
then,
Seriously though, Trevor is worried we chased you away.

It
hadn’t been you guys, Faith thought.  Her own anxiety had taken care of that
quite nicely. 
Not you.  Just me.

Madison’s
words appeared after a pause. 
You make a habit of running away?

Faith
sighed, unsure if she would answer.  Madison had told her she was there if she
ever wanted to talk.  But did she?  She usually made sure all of her words were
cheerful and light.  Staring out into the life she could have had, honesty seemed
completely futile.

Yes. 
I’m really good at it too.

I
hear ya, sista.

Faith
laughed. 
You?  Really?!  I’ll never believe it.

Believe
it!  I was very good at hiding and running.  So very good.

Faith
bit her lip and stared at the phone, her thumbs hovering over the keys.
 How
did you stop?

A
bird chirped in the distance, and Faith closed her eyes, listening to the merry
tune, no sounds of traffic in the distance.  It was the quiet she missed the
most – the quiet of the landscape, of the life, of her mind.  When she looked
back down at her phone, Madison had replied.