Текст книги "Paper Thin"

Автор книги: Jennifer Snyder

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

What were the chances of seeing him here? Slim to none, my mind answered.

“All right. Thank you.” She punched in buttons on her register. “Have a good day.”

“Thanks,” I replied a little late. My mind was focused on Dawson standing behind me, and what I should say to him next.

I stepped to the side and prepared to turn and face him once more, but he leaned past me, staring at the lady behind the register. “A pack of Marlboro Reds, Doris.”

He knew her by name. Dawson had moved back. He had to have. How could he know her name if he hadn’t?

“Your daddy isn’t about to give up that bad habit of his even now, is he?” The lady smirked.

“I think at this point he figures what’s the use.” There was sadness laced within his words, even though he tried to hide it with another smile. I could still see through him after all this time. This surprised me.

What happened to his dad, and why was he buying him cigarettes?

Dawson noticed me staring at him with a bemused look plastered on my face. “Lung cancer. Finally gripped a hold of my ol’ man.”

“Wow.” was all I said. I searched my brain for something else, anything that might sound better, more compassionate, but nothing came. There was something a person was supposed to say in these situations, but I couldn’t think of the words for the life of me.

Dawson’s dad was sick. Really sick. With cancer. That was what brought him back to Parish Cove. I wondered how long he had been free from this place before he got the news and was forced to come back.

“Here you go.” Doris slipped a pack of Marlboros across the counter to him.

He passed her some money and scooped up the box. “Thanks.” One of his hands moved to press against the small of my back as he steered me toward the door to the station. The spot bloomed with fire from his sudden touch, and my breath caught in my throat. “He only smokes a pack a week now though, so that’s good.”

“Yeah, that is good,” I replied.

“It’s hard to smoke when you’re hooked up to an oxygen tank though.” He winked. I felt the wink all the way to my toes.

Dawson Phillips had his hand pressed against my lower back, and he’d just winked at me. I had only been in Parish Cove for less than twenty minutes, and already I felt like I was fifteen again pining after the boy who lived down the street.

I WAS LATE. SEEING Dawson had sidetracked me, and now I was closing in on being nearly thirty minutes late. It wasn’t all his fault though, because running into Millie and her kids had done the same. Regardless of my reason, it didn’t change the fact I was late to Emma’s engagement party. My stomach knotted as I thought about how pissed she would be with me for this.

Why the hell couldn’t I ever be on time?

As I barreled down Blue Jay Lane, I wondered if I should change in my driveway after I pulled up to my house. First impressions were important, which was why I wanted to be on time. Now that there was no possible way it was happening, the least I could do was be presentable. My cleavage-showing top and skinny jeans had been okay to drive in, but it wasn’t going to fly for Emma’s party.

I chewed my bottom lip as I rounded the last corner before our house, still debating with myself. If I did change, it would be into the coral dress. Sweet and cute would rectify my tardiness. If I wore the black dress I would seem like more trouble than I actually was¸ which wouldn’t be a good thing.

As our yellow one-story house came into view, I noticed there was only my sister’s vehicle parked in the driveway. My brain raced in an attempt to remember if the party was supposed to be somewhere else. Had Emma told me and I’d forgotten? Why the hell did I tune out every time I talked with her on the phone?

I came to a rolling stop beside my sister’s car, but didn’t cut the engine on mine right away. Instead, I stared at the house, trying to figure out what I should do next. If I sent Emma a text asking where the party was, she would flip out on me. If I tried to sit here and remember, I would be wasting time. I cut the engine on my car, and then leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. Once I had taken in a few deep, measured breaths, I reached for my cell. I needed to text her; there was no other choice. I just prayed she wouldn’t be too angry with me. The sound of the front door to the house opening caught my attention.

“What’s the matter? Rough ride?” Emma grinned from the porch.

She was here. Why was she here? My eyes skimmed over her. Why wasn’t she dressed up? She wore a plain cotton T-shirt and black yoga pants, which added more confusion to my flabbergasted mind.

“What is going on?” I climbed out of my car and slammed the door shut behind me. Questions pounded through my mind. Had I already missed the party? No. Emma wouldn’t be smiling if I had.

“Well, hello to you too.” Her grin grew.

“Hey.” I leaned against my car, and folded my arms over my chest. “What’s going on?”

She lifted her shoulders toward her ears in a slow shrug. “Nothing. I’ve just been hanging out.”

“Why aren’t you dressed for your party?” Had I gotten my weekends mixed up? Was her party next weekend? I tried to remember today’s date, but couldn’t.

“The party isn’t until tomorrow night,” my sister said, finally putting me out of my misery.

My mouth fell open. “What?”

She grinned. “I knew you would be late, so I lied and said it was tonight.”

I couldn’t believe her. “I raced all the way here thinking I was late. What if I had died?”

She laughed. “You didn’t die, so everything is okay.”

My lips twisted into a smile against my will. I wanted to be angry with her, but I couldn’t. She knew me too well. That was the problem.

“God.” I brought a hand up to swipe a few stray hairs away from my forehead. “I thought you were going to be so pissed at me. I freaked out, and was actually contemplating changing into my dress in the driveway so I wouldn’t embarrass you more when I walked in.”

“Aw, how sweet.” Her hands clasped the area over her heart in mock affection before she stepped off the porch and walked toward me. “You were gonna flash all the passersby for me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Only because I thought I was late.”

“Come here.” She pulled me into a hug. “Now I know you really love me.”

I wrapped my arms around her. Emma was taller than me by about four inches. Mom always said Emma got her height from our dad. I took after Mom, and was a little on the shorter side, topping out at five-foot-two. Other than the height difference and the length of our hair, we looked nearly identical. We were both blessed with our mom’s soft features and slender frame as well as her brown wavy hair. I had more freckles than Emma, and her eyes were more of a hazel color than my green ones.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” I said.

Emma released me from her bear hug and took a step back. Color darkened her cheeks, and I wondered what she must be feeling. Was this as strange for her as it was for me? “I know. Me too.”

“So, who is this mysterious lover of yours?” I tipped my head to the side. I’d thought about it until I’d given myself a headache, trying to figure out if she had mentioned anyone to me. Finally, I concluded she hadn’t. My sister had been keeping a secret from me. A big one. “I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure out if I missed you mentioning him since I got your letter. Is he someone I know, or is he someone you managed to meet?”

A large smile swept across her face. Whoever he was, thinking about him made my sister light up. Warmth I hadn’t expected to feel during this trip filled me. Emma was happy. She had found someone who made her happy, and I loved that. She deserved it.

“Well, actually—” Her words were cut off as the screen door to the house flew open, drawing both of our attention to it. It slammed shut behind our mother as she rushed down the porch steps toward me.

The sight of her caused all sorts of emotions to stir within me. Maybe this was because she was dressed for a blizzard. Why was she dressed for a blizzard in late April? We lived in the south, not Alaska. It was chilly, but not that bad.

“There she is!” I was shocked at how normal this moment seemed, minus the ridiculous winter clothes. Mom’s voice was still as sweet as it had always been. Her hair was done in its usual style, and her makeup was neutral giving her the natural look I considered her trademark. Looking at her, you never would guess there was anything wrong.

This was why I didn’t come home often. It was why I couldn’t take care of Mom; she looked too normal. If my mother’s sickness was something I could see eating away at her, then maybe I could handle it. I liked to think, if that were the case, I would be right beside Emma, helping to take Mom to her appointments and watching over her when Emma needed a break.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how this disease worked. It didn’t affect my mother’s physical appearance, only her state of mind.

“Hey, Mom.” My voice was small and weak, scared sounding. I cleared my throat. “How are you?”

“Good, good. How was your trip?” Her arms wrapped around me in an even stronger bear hug than what Emma had given. The scent of lilacs hit my nose, and I buried my face into her puffy jacket, loving the familiarity of the scent.

Warmth slipped through me. I had missed this. I had missed her. I’d even go so far as to say that I had missed Emma, even after the little stunt she pulled on me. Maybe coming home more often wouldn’t be so bad.

“Now, Debbie, I want to know everything about your trip. Don’t leave out any details. I’ve been wondering all day what it was like for you on that cruise,” Mom said as soon as she released me. “I’ve wanted to go on one myself, but never had the guts to be surrounded by water for so long.”

My heart sank to my toes. I opened my mouth to answer her, correct her, but I couldn’t speak. She thought I was someone else. My mom thought I was her deceased little sister, Debbie. Didn’t she recognize me as her daughter?

“Now, Mom, this isn’t Debbie. This is Charlotte,” Emma said in a soft, soothing voice. “Remember? I told you Charlotte was coming for a visit this weekend.”

Mom reached up and cupped the sides of my face. Her hands were cold against my hot cheeks. Ice cold. Death cold. I shifted my stare between her green eyes, the ones that matched mine, searching for the recognition that should be there. I counted my heartbeats, waiting for her to remember me. Her little girl. The youngest of her two children. Her wild child with such a free spirit. Why wouldn’t her mind allow her to remember me? Did she always remember who Emma was? Was I not memorable enough as a daughter? How could she forget me?

My mind continued to spin out as the seconds ticked away. This moment was why I chose to stay away. I couldn’t handle this. I took Mom’s moments too personally.

“Oh, Charlotte. That’s right. There you are.” Her full lips formed into a smile, and I felt my heart thump back to life inside my chest. Breath filled my lungs once more. She hadn’t forgotten me completely, only for a minute or two. “Emma said you were coming to visit me this weekend. I remember now. Now tell me all about that cruise you were on. I’ve always wanted to go on one, you know?”

I blinked, hoping to keep my tears at bay. “I wasn’t on a cruise, Mom. I drove here from school.”

Her head tipped to the side. She stared at me as though she couldn’t figure out why I would lie to her about such a thing.

“Mom, Charlotte drove from Bradley University. She’s in college now. Remember?”

Mom’s hand lifted to rub her forehead, and I forced myself to remain where I was and not take a step away from her. She was worse than she had been the last time I was home. “That’s right. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I’ve been forgetful lately.”

“It’s okay, Mom. I understand.” I smiled.

I didn’t understand though. Nothing about this disease made sense to me. Alzheimer’s was scary and confusing. It took a person, in my case someone I loved, and forced them to become someone you couldn’t hold a conversation with, someone you didn’t even know anymore.

I hated this disease with a fiery passion.

“Let’s get you back inside.” Emma gently gripped Mom by the shoulders, and turned her toward the house.

I followed behind them, even though every part of me wanted to climb inside my car and hightail it back to my dorm. I was weaker than I thought.

How could Emma handle this on a day-to-day basis? Just that one moment had shaken me to my core.

My sister was stronger than I ever gave her credit for. She was like a freaking superhero.

AFTER EMMA HAD GOTTEN our mom situated in the living room, the two of us moved into the kitchen. I leaned against the counter and watched as she pulled down two glasses from the cabinet to pour us both some lemonade.

“Is she always that bad?” I asked.

“Some days are better than others.”

I took the glass she was offering to me and debated whether it was the right time to bring up a nursing home again. “How bad?”

Emma leaned against the counter beside me. Her eyes shifted to mine. “Do you really want to know?” There was anger laced within her words.

I deserved it. After all, I had left her to deal with everything the second I got accepted to Bradley. I didn’t even look back. Sometimes I wondered what that said about me as a person, as a sister, and as a daughter. Maybe there was some truth to the gossip that floated around Parish Cove about me. I kept telling myself one day I would redeem myself, but deep down I knew the day would never come¸ because I would never have the guts to. I couldn’t handle this situation. If I had ever felt an ounce of belief that I could, it disappeared when Mom called me Debbie.

“Yeah.” I took a sip from my drink to hide the trembling of my lips, even though I knew Emma could probably tell how afraid of her answer I was by looking into my eyes.

“Some days you can’t even hold a conversation with her. Nothing she says makes sense.” Emma sighed. “I think it’s the meds the doctors have her on. They make her have crazy days.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. It was more than likely the disease taking a tighter grip on her, but I wasn’t going to argue.

“Have you talked with them about it?” It was a stupid question. Of course she had talked to them about it. My sister probably kept a log somewhere of how much she was administering to her when Mom had one of her crazy spells. Emma was smart.

“Yeah.” Her lips twisted into a small smile. “I’ve even Googled the heck out of them to see if it was a common side effect.”

I crinkled my nose at her as a smile forced its way onto my face as well. “I knew you probably did. They should offer up some sort of diploma for a Google school or something. I feel like you have a Google PHD.”

She laughed. “I know, right?”

Silence seemed to wrap around us, choking me with its thickness. Normally, I was good with silence. Not in this situation. This was different somehow. The air between us was charged with too many emotions. None of them anything either of us wanted to feel.

“How many good days has she had this week?” I wasn’t sure why I asked. The words had flown past my lips, filling the silence with their sharpness.

Emma glanced at me. “Two.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. The last time I gathered the strength to ask her, the good days had still outweighed the bad, which wasn’t the case anymore. I took another sip of my lemonade as I built up the courage to get my next question out. It was time we revisited the topic again. “Have you thought about—?”

“Don’t.” She cut me off. “Don’t finish that sentence.” Anger laced every one of her words.

“I think it’s something you should consider. She’s bad enough now.” I pressed forward, ignoring her anger. “You’re getting married. Don’t you want to have a normal life with the guy? Putting her in a home would let you.” The words sounded horrible, even to my ears, but they were truthful. Emma deserved normal. She wouldn’t be able to have that with Mom’s crazy spells taking up all of her time.

She shook her head, and when she lifted her eyes to mine, her disgust toward me was palpable. “You aren’t even here for an hour, and you’re already telling me I should toss her in a home and walk away like you did. She’s our mother, Charlotte! How could you even suggest such a thing?”

My cheeks heated. This conversation was spinning out of control. Fast. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m not trying to argue with you,” I backpedaled. “I only meant that you deserve a break. This has to be taking a toll on you.”

“It is. Of course it is.” She seemed calmer. The anger had seeped from her words and become replaced with something else, something I couldn’t name. “If my sister were here to help me—to share in the heartache of the situation—then maybe it wouldn’t be so hard.”

Disappointment. That was the emotion. Emma was disappointed in me.

“You only experienced one bad moment with her, Charlotte. One single moment where she forgot who you were, and you let it break you. You let it freak you out. Try dealing with that every day. Try spending an entire day with her where she can’t remember your name. Try taking her to run errands with you and losing her like a toddler in the store, because you looked away for a split-second.” Her voice was low, but I could still feel the resentment she harbored against me. “You don’t get to tell me when she’s bad enough to go in a home. You don’t have the right because you aren’t here. You don’t see.”

Tears threatened to burst from my eyes. How could I be so inconsiderate? God, I hated my mouth sometimes. “I’m sorry. I—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” She stormed out of the kitchen before I could finish.

I stood there, gripping my glass of lemonade tighter than I should, staring into the space my sister had been standing. I did this every time I came home for a visit. I always seemed to make her angry. It wasn’t as if I set out to botch every visit home; it just happened that way.

Emma was right. It wasn’t my place to decide when Mom should be sent to one of the nursing homes in town. She was here with her all the time. Emma would know better than anyone when that time came, when she couldn’t handle it anymore. My lips needed to be glued together during the remainder of my stay. It was the only way to keep something like this from happening again. Either that, or else I needed to learn to think before I spoke, which was easier said than done.

The sound of my sister’s muffled sobs sounded from the hall bathroom. I’d made her cry. The desire to apologize to her swept through me, but I knew my sister. She wouldn’t be able to hear my words for what they were right now. The argument would only head into round two if I followed after her.

With a sigh, I set my glass on the counter and sneaked out the back door, needing to be anywhere but here right now.

THE SUN WAS SETTING when I stepped outside, making it feel later than it was. Its low positioning in the sky had already cooled the temperature of the air. My skin was clammy and hot as tears slipped from my eyes. This was supposed to be a good trip home. I was here because Emma was getting married, not to fight with her about where our mother should live.

“What the heck is wrong with me?” I whispered to the sky, swiping away the tears that had finally fallen free.

Inhaling a deep breath, I vowed not to mention another thing regarding Mom’s care to Emma while I was here. This was her special time. She’d said yes to someone she loved, someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. That was what I should be focusing on. I only hoped the person knew about our mother’s state and was supportive. Emma deserved someone to be her rock, because I sucked at it.

The sound of splashing startled me, forcing me to take in my surroundings. I was standing at the lake. My breath left my chest in one big, long sigh. I hadn’t been here in ages. It was no surprise my feet had brought me here though. This used to be my favorite place to think.

The splashing made its way to my ears once more. Someone was swimming. I winced at the thought. The water had to be ice cold. Whoever it was, they were crazy. Everyone knew you never swam in the lake until well into June, especially this time of night. Around two in the afternoon, the water might reach the right temperature this early in the year, but it was never warm enough for night swimming until late June.

I started across the dock, curious to see who had decided to take a dip in the chilly waters. The weathered wooden boards creaked beneath my feet as I scanned the lake’s surface. I paused when I noticed a family of ducks making their way out of the water. They’d startled me, but also brought a smile to my face. The noises I had heard must have been them. I watched the mom wrangle her little fluffy flock and shoo them into the cattails nearby. Before long they were out of sight, and I was still standing there, staring after them, hoping for another peek. I missed nature.

Bradley University didn’t have anything by way of wildlife, unless you counted the primal ways of frat boys. The ducks had been soothing to see. Even though I always said this dinky town sucked, deep down there were things about Parish Cove I loved. This lake was one of them.

I slipped off my sandals and moved to sit at the edge of the dock, hanging my legs over the edge. Slowly, I dipped my toes into the water, careful not to get my jeans wet. Chills ran through me, causing goose bumps to prickle up my legs and across my skin. The water was freezing. I took comfort in knowing some things never changed.

Water splashing a few feet away caught my attention. I glanced around, looking to see if the ducks had decided to take another evening swim. A muscular, bare back glistening in the sunset captured my attention instead. Dark hair. Tan skin. Strong, confident strokes. I knew who it was even before he even turned his head to the side for more air.

Dawson Phillips.

I couldn’t believe he still took evening swims in the cold ass water of the lake regardless of how cool it was outside. Yeah, some things never changed. I leaned back against the palms of my hands, feeling the rough wood of the dock steady me, and crossed my ankles. My mind flashed back to all the previous times I had sat in this spot, watching him swim laps. Sometimes I would imagine him becoming an Olympic swimmer, and traveling the world with me by his side. God, I had wanted to be with him.

The splashing of the water stopped. I blinked and realized he’d spotted me, staring at him like the teenybopper I used to be. My heart picked up pace as I wondered what I should say that wouldn’t embarrass me any more than I already was.

“Hey,” I called out, because what more could I say? My voice wavered from having been caught staring. I cleared my throat, hoping it would sound even when I spoke again. Jesus, I was fifteen and tongue tied by him all over again.

Dawson’s lips twisted upward as he continued to tread water. “Hey, yourself.”

I couldn’t breathe as a strong sense of deja vu hit me. The last time we’d been in this exact situation came rushing back. It was the night before Dawson was leaving for college. I’d come to the lake for a nighttime swim in the hopes I would see him here one last time. I desperately wanted him to stay, but I also wanted him to be happy. The scholarship he’d gotten for baseball had made him happy. So, I let him go. Even if he technically wasn’t mine to release. Dawson was destined for greatness. I knew this even at fifteen, and I didn’t believe anyone could find greatness in Parish Cove.

The conversation between us had happened just the same. In fact, I’d dreamed about his ‘Hey, yourself’ and sexy smile for months afterward. The entire night had been imprinted into my head and etched into the contours of my soul, because that was the night Dawson had given me what I always wanted from him most—my first kiss.

He knew I’d had a crush on him for forever. It was no secret. Everyone knew. I followed him around like a lost puppy. We’d sat on the dock that night, lost in conversation. I listened with my head propped up by my hand, soaking up his every word as though my life depended on it. Fear of the unknown was what he talked about. How he’d always thought about leaving Parish Cove and creating his own path in the world, but now that the time had come, he wasn’t sure he could go through with it. I’d admired him and felt nervous for him. I’d also foolishly asked him to stay. The smirk I loved had twisted his lips as he asked me why. I’d told him he could wait until I graduated, and then we could face the unknown together. Sometimes I could still hear his laugh, if I focused on the memory hard enough.

It was a sweet laugh, gentle. He wasn’t making fun of me, but had found my words humorous. The conversation took a different turn then. We moved down a road filled with relationship talk. He’d mentioned I was too young for him and said that maybe if I were older things would be different. I’d hated those words. My frown must have done something to him, because to my surprise, he’d kissed me. A simple, sweet brush of his lips against mine. It had been a bittersweet goodbye I would remember forever.

“You gonna stare at me all night or come out here and join me?” His deep voice pulled me back from the memory of our lips touching for the first time and to the present. I was shocked again at how different his voice sounded from the teenage one I remembered.

“I don’t have a suit,” I called out.

“Never stopped you before.”

My cheeks heated. Damn him. Of course he had to bring up the one time he caught me skinny dipping in the lake. I’d been twelve and mortified for months. “I’m older now. Things have changed quite a bit since then.” Like an idiot, I gestured to my boobs.

“I wouldn’t—” he started to say, and then stopped. Something passed over his face I couldn’t name, and he swam toward me.

My heart thudded in my chest as I wondered if the rest of his sentence would have been the words mind seeing them. I hoped he would continue with his train of thought once he surfaced. I needed to hear the end of his sentence. Desperately.

My cell chimed with a new text, and I glanced at the screen. It was Sadie.

Did you make it there okay?

I typed a reply, not wanting to take my eyes off Dawson as he hoisted himself up onto the dock beside me.

I did. ~ Charlotte

I watched as water dripped off him, pooling where his hands pressed into the wood of the dock. It trickled down his sculpted chest and rolled off the tip of his nose. He sat beside me, and wrung out the legs of his trunks. My cell chimed with another text from Sadie.

Any good first impressions you should be thanking me for? You looked hot in that outfit.

My lips quirked into a smile as I read her text.

One. Thanks. ~ Charlotte

“The lake is all yours,” Dawson said. He barely looked at me when he spoke.

Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Thanks, but I didn’t come here to swim, the water is too cold.” I moved my toes around in the chilly water and leaned back against my palms again. “I came here for the view.” The second I said the words, I wished I could take them back. The way they came out made it seem as though I was implying the view of him swimming was what I had come to see, not the beautiful lake. My cheeks and neck grew hot. Surely he knew what I meant.

Dawson arched a brow at me and grinned. “You still blush like crazy when you’re embarrassed.”

I pressed my hand to my fiery cheeks. “Yeah, I know. I still joke that I blush when I breathe. I hate it.”

“Don’t. It’s cute.”

The heat I’d felt spreading across my face made its way to my toes. I opened my mouth to say something, but another text came through from Sadie.

Was he at least hot?

I glanced at Dawson. Hell yes, he was.

Oh yes. ~ Charlotte

“Someone must miss you already,” he insisted as he stood. There was a weird tone embedded in his words. Did he think I had a boyfriend I’d left behind? Did he even know why I was here?

“It’s my roommate, Sadie,” I said, hoping to clear up any misconception about my relationship status. “I’m only here for Emma’s engagement party.”

“I figured as much.” I expected there to be a smile on his face when he said the words, but there was nothing. He only nodded as though we were talking about the weather. Maybe he wasn’t interested in me. God, did he still think of me as some little kid?

He was the same age as Emma, barely three years older than me. I now understood the age thing when we were still in school, but now age was only a number. It didn’t matter. I was twenty-two and he was twenty-five. It was the perfect age difference if you asked me.

I watched as he smoothed his wet hair away from his eyes. “I should get going. It was nice seeing you again. I’m sure I’ll run in to you later.” A hint of a smile graced his lips, but not the one I wanted. Where was the sexy one that always used to make my knees weak? The genuine one from earlier at the gas station? This one was standoffish and awkward, leaving me questioning what had changed the mood between us.

“Yeah, sure. Bye.”

Dawson walked away, his feet leaving wet marks across the weathered wood of the dock. I pursed my lips together, thinking of how that could have went a heck of a lot better.

Another text came through.

Has fate finally caught up with you, Miss Charlotte Rose Montgomery?

I twisted my lips together, and glanced at Dawson’s retreating form. I hoped so, but I couldn’t be sure.