Secondhand Heart (2 page)

“Sleeping.”

“No.” Maybe a little. “Not really. But there was no way that organic sunscreen even had a chance.” She freaked me out not too long ago about deodorant, how bad it was to have all that stuff so close to your lymph nodes, so I’d tried the natural brand. I smelled like a dirty hockey player for a week, then I gave up and went back to my regular stuff. Life is short, and chemicals serve a purpose.

“I didn’t want to put all that crap on my skin.” She rubbed aloe into her arms, then leaned in close to the mirror, poking at her chest and frowning.

“No one will even know,” I insisted. “It’s going to be dark in there, and you look adorable. You’ll probably start a trend.”

My mom looked sorry she said she’d babysit as soon as Bree showed up.

“Guys, guys, watch what you’re doing!” I chased after Landon and Lucas as they ran around the backyard, so dangerously close to the grill I thought my dad might have a heart attack. Sandy, our golden retriever, chased all of us, barking like a lunatic.

“I’m so excited about tonight!” Bree considered herself off duty with my mom there, and had already cracked open a beer. Meanwhile, I’d broken out in a sweat and thanked God and science for my killer deodorant. “Do you think there will be a lot of celebrities there?”

“Maybe.” I hadn’t thought of that. I’d never met anyone famous, unless you counted some local politicians that had come to Jordan’s funeral. “It’s Plymouth, so we kind of need to manage our expectations. But Cam will be there.”

Bree fanned herself, and then got tackled by Landon. “He’s so hot. He just got divorced, you know.”

Ah. Ev’s plan just got that much more transparent. “I didn’t. Did you hear that, Ev? Your boy’s back on the market.”

Ev pursed her lips together, and looked really uncomfortable. Not just because of the sunburn. “I’m sure Roger wouldn’t appreciate that.”

Roger was Ev’s boyfriend, one of her artist clients, and if you asked me, kind of a douche. His medium was concrete. Concrete wasn’t art. Concrete was sidewalks. How could anyone be passionate about concrete, unless they were on payroll for the Department of Public Works? The longer they were together, the more she became like him, making me hate him that much more. He’d turn them both to stone. I wondered if Ev talked about Cam in front of him. She never giggled like some love sick teenager over Roger.

“You look awesome, Daisy.” It was well documented how I felt about Roger, and Bree was smart enough to change the subject.

“Thanks.” I actually felt pretty good tonight. I wore a black peasant shirt with teal trimmed cut outs, and a jean skirt. Somehow, my hair was actually doing that beachy wave thing after spending the afternoon playing in the surf. I’d actually made it to adulthood with my blonde hair, and the bleached out streaks were a bonus of my frequent trips to the beach. I’d been working on my tan all summer, and my blue eyes jumped out of my face when I put on a little mascara.

“See what happens when you put in a little effort?” My mother had to ruin it, didn’t she?

“Really, Ma?” Ev came out to the yard with her awesome salad. “Landon, do you like cucumbers?”

“Nooooo!” Vegetables are proven to be the fastest way to make a four-year-old disappear. My dad brought the burgers to the table, with Ev’s veggie burgers on their own plate. The juices couldn’t mingle. My mom tried to hide her sulk behind her giant shake container and eyed me when I reached for a second burger.

I knew moving back home was going to be hard. But I needed my parents after Jordan died, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. The military came and packed up all evidence that Jordan had actually existed and brought it to my parents’ house, where it was now stacked neatly in the basement along with my mom’s forgotten former favorite products. Sure, my mom drove me nuts, but I kept reminding myself this was only temporary.

Some nights, when I lay awake in my childhood bed, jolted from sleep by a dream that Jordan was still alive, I could believe that’s what he always was, a dream. Someone I could only ever visit in my sleep, someone who’d always be the same, waiting for me. But every time I went to the store, the post office, out to walk the dog, everyone from my past, now my present, was there to smack me in the face with reality. They wanted to tell me how sorry they were, and to thank me for Jordan’s service. Thank me? I didn’t do anything. I just lived in military housing and helped organize a roller derby team for the base wives. He made the sacrifice.

I didn’t want everyone to treat me differently because of his death. I desperately wanted my life to get back to normal. I kept saying that, but I didn’t know what normal was anymore. I didn’t know how to move forward without holding on to Jordan. And no one could figure out how to do it but me.

T
he Lonely Heart Saloon might be the most exciting thing that ever happened in Plymouth. The claim to the first Thanksgiving got a little rusty after four hundred years. We got to the bar early, but it was already packed. Right on the waterfront, and calling the former Road Kill Kafe home, barrel spotlights crisscrossed in the sky marking its arrival. Throngs of onlookers packed themselves behind police tape, hoping to get a glimpse of Cam or any of the other celebrities rumored to show up. Ev had spent most of the day at the beach on social media getting the word out about the opening and whipping speculation to a frenzy.

“This is crazy.” I whispered to Bree, grabbing her hand as we made our way onto the red carpet. Ev had to give our names to get us in, and when the security guard who we went to school with found us on the list, acting like he’d never even seen us before, he simply nodded and lifted the rope. I didn’t even get my ID checked. I was so bummed.

“This is awesome,” Bree squealed as we squeezed past the crowd at the door. I’d never been to a nightclub before, and I was pretty sure she hadn’t, either. We could only base our expectations on what we saw on TV. “We can come here anytime we want. Hot cowboys. Everywhere.”

I could barely hear her as she rambled, a live band played and the crowd fought to be heard over them. All I heard her say was
hot
over and over. I grabbed on to her hand for dear life as she pulled me towards the bar. We’d already lost Ev. Even with the sunburn, tonight she looked like Taylor Swift’s stunt double and was in full battle mode. I’d never seen her at work before, and I was surprised by how she just snapped in to action, all business. It was awesome.

The bar was surrounded by an unruly swarm of bodies, mostly half naked girls and guys in cowboy hats, jockeying for position. I felt out of place, and my thighs were already rubbing together. I should have known better than to wear a skirt.

“What do you want?” Bree asked.

“Whatever you’re having.” I felt like the walls were closing in. I gasped for air and shoved money into her palm. “I’m going to go find a place to sit.”

“Are you alright?” I heard her say, but I’d already broken away, pushing through the crowd, looking for any empty seat. I had to go to a corner stool, and I wasn’t sure if it was really free, but it was empty, so I took it. Ever since Jordan died, I hated crowds. I don’t know what the connection was between the two, but I couldn’t shake it. The first time I’d gone out by myself after the military officials had come to my house and gave me the news, I went to Walmart. Dumb, I know that now. I had a breakdown in the bread aisle, bad enough that the store employees called 911. Talk about making an irrational fear come true.

“Thanks, I just needed some air,” I tried to assure Bree I was normal as she handled me a bottle of beer. Apricot wheat. “Good choice. Have you tried this?”

“Yeah, a couple of times. It’s light and fruity, so I knew you’d like it. Cheers.” Bree tapped my bottle, and I tried to cover up that I’d already taken a sip. “I am loving this place. Have you looked at the men walking around here? You’d hardly know it was Plymouth!”

I’d been afraid to look, but then I realized this party was invitation only. All the people around town that I’d been hiding out from, the ones who stared and whispered when they saw me, wouldn’t be able to get in. Bree was right. “Wow. I wonder where they shipped these guys in from.”

Her face brightened when I actually seemed interested. “They could be local. This could be the best thing that ever happened to us.” Her eyes widened as she realized I might not agree, but I didn’t say anything. I just took another delicious sip of beer.

“I think Ev had them all bused in, and when the night is over, they’ll all go back to the island that they hide on. People don’t really look like this.” I made accidental eye contact with one of the hot cowboys and looked away quickly. “Did you hear her say where she went?”

“No. Is there a backstage or something?” Bree looked like a little kid of Christmas morning. She wasn’t looking at me at all when she talked. She was high off of testosterone and cologne.

“I guess?” I’d been as far as she had in here. “It’s really a restaurant though, right?”

“There’s a band! There’s got to be a backstage area,” she insisted, and pointed into the crowd. “There’s Ev!”

We waved and caught her eye, and she came over to us, hands on hips. “I bring you guys out to this hot party and you’re sitting in the corner?”

“It was the only seat I could find,” I protested.

Ev pulled me up. She didn’t get it when I freaked out about stupid stuff. She liked to put me right in the middle of the action when I wanted to run. Ev was over coddling me. I loved her and hated her for it at the same time. “You should be mingling and meeting new people. And having fun.”

“I am having fun.”

“You can sit on your ass and drink beer at home. Come on.” She pulled me through the crowd and Bree did her best to keep up. Her head was on a swivel and every couple of seconds she said something about
hot
. “You ladies are VIP tonight. If you’re going to sit in the corner, at least sit in the right section.”

Bree banged on my back with excitement. This human pinball game of a party was so up her ally. I wondered if there was a deck outside. That would be more my speed.

The VIP section wasn’t as packed as the regular area, so it was a little quieter. We didn’t have to scream at each other. Ev brought us over to a booth with a paper tent that said
reserved
. Bree and I hesitated, not realizing it was for us. “You don’t have to pay for drinks in this section tonight, either.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything sooner?” I asked her. Free drinks? Now this night was looking up, even if free beer meant I’d be hurting tomorrow.

“You two took off.” Ev rolled her eyes. I made a face at her, since it was totally the other way around.

The lights went down, and the crowd went wild and swarmed the stage. The VIP section was to the right of the stage, and elevated just enough that we could see everything perfectly. A cover band had opened the show, but Cam Hunter was headlining his grand opening celebration.

Ev and Bree cheered when Cam came onstage, so I did too, more to be polite. He was picking up my bar tab tonight, after all. I’d never met Cam in person. I’d only heard Ev rave about him and of course I’d seen him on TV. He was taller than I expected, his broad shoulders straining the fabric of his blue and orange plaid shirt. I know, the shirt sounds hideous, but it actually looked hot on him. Bree’d said it enough tonight, I was thinking like her now. He wore the top few buttons open, showing just a hint of his tan chest. I couldn’t see his eyes under the brim of his white cowboy hat, but his sandy hair curled around the collar of the shirt. He opened the show with his biggest hit, Lonely Heart Saloon, in case you were wondering where he got the name for the bar. I found myself staring at his lips as he sang the words of the song, watching them move in front of the microphone, wondering what those lips would feel like on my skin.