What She Wanted Page 23

  I leaned my head against his sturdy shoulder. “Me, too.”

  “How was work?”

  “Sylvia’s paying me for nothing. I’ve spent less than five hours there all week and my paycheck was the same as always today.”

  “Maybe she’s heard how stubborn you are about letting people help you with college expenses.”

  “Hey.” I poked his thigh where it brushed against mine. “Your mom has brought produce three times this week. I don’t need that for college.”

  “She likes feeding you.”

  “Well, she does too much for us.” I drew a smile on his knee with my fingertip. “Though, it would be nice to know she’s checking on Mark when I’m gone.” How can I go?

  “She’d be happy to help. She loves your family. Always has.”

  I sighed. “I appreciate your mom.” I scrubbed fingers through tangled hair. “It’s not just her, though. I’ve got Heidi’s mom delivering school supplies and Beth buying me clothes. There was no one all those years and now there’s everyone. You know? I’m overwhelmed, that’s all.” I waved my hands in the air. “It’s nuts.”

  “Maybe, but when you don’t let them do their things, you steal their thunder.” He raised his palms in surrender. “I’m just saying, every time you send my mom home with a sack of produce meant for your refrigerator, she sulks through dinner. You ruin her good time when you do that.”

  I straightened. “Is she mad?”

  “Not mad. Bummed. Disappointed. People feel good when they do things for other people. You know that.” He squeezed me to his side. “You love doing stuff for people.”

  Guilt churned through me. I rolled my forehead against his shoulder. “I’m such a moron. I love making people smile. Giving is fun. Taking is awful. It’s humbling and awkward.”

  “For you.”

  I lifted my face. “Yes, for me.” I grinned. “Tell your mom I’ll cheerfully take any produce she brings this week, and I’m sorry I ruined her good time before.”

  He kissed my nose. “Deal. What about Beth and Heidi’s mom?”

  I tipped over, resting my head in his lap. “I hate taking things from Beth. I barely know her. I’ll text Heidi, though. She can pass on the message to her mom. Bring on the office supplies. I will be sincerely thankful in my least awkward way possible.”

  “Atta girl.”

  I wiggled onto my back and looked into his wide blue eyes. The world smelled of old wood and hay, Dean’s cologne, and a distant campfire.

  “What?” His bright smile illuminated the night. His golden tan was erased by the silver moonlight. “Why are you smiling? I love it, but what’s happening? I want to make you smile like this. Tell me the secret.”

  I rocked my head against his legs. “I’m just thinking. How is this my life right now?” Alone in the night with a guy who wants to end hunger, help famers, and make me smile.

  He wrinkled his nose. “Is it too glamorous?” He made a show of looking around us. “Is it the hay? The old quilts and blankets? Too fancy. I tried hauling dirt up here, but it fell through the floorboards.”

  I grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward me. “This is perfect.”

  “You’re easy to impress. I’m in luck.” He stopped halfway to my mouth and stretched puckered lips in my direction. “I can’t reach like this.” He rolled me off him and lay beside me on the soft quilt. His lips grazed my ear. “Would Mark notice if you didn’t come home tonight? We could stay just like this.” He dragged me against him, warming my back with his heat and nipping my ear with his teeth.

  “Just like this, huh?” My muscles tensed to turn toward him and snuggle into the safety of his broad and beautiful chest.

  “Absolutely. I’ll make you eggs and bacon in the morning.”

  “Oh,” I quivered at the hot swipe of his tongue on my neck. “I’m sure your mom would love to see us show up at breakfast covered in hay.”

  “She’d be thrilled. She says life’s short. A big believer in the power of love and laughter.”

  No longer able to resist, I turned in the tight confines of his arms and pressed my chest to his. Breath caught in my throat as I reveled in the frantic pace of his heart against mine. “Really? She said that?”

  “She writes prescriptions for laughter and delivers them to patients in her ward.”

  “Not that. The other thing.” The firmness of his body made it nearly impossible to concentrate.

  “Love?”

  I nodded, utterly breathless.

  “Falling in love is good for the heart.” He kissed my lips. “Good for the soul.” He spoke the words against my mouth and our breaths mingled. He captured my bottom lip in his and suckled. Electricity shot through my body.

  I let my head roll back, saturated in endorphins and joy. “It feels pretty amazing, too.” I panted as he moved his mouth to my collarbone. I’d basically admitted to falling in love with him, but his mouth on my skin made it impossible to feel too self-conscious.

  He ran wide warm hands beneath the hem of my shirt, grazing my ribs and sizzling paths along my torso with his fingers. “Have you gotten everything in order for your trip next week?” He looked into my eyes, searching. His thumb made a lazy pattern across my belly button. “Can I drive you to the airport?”

  “Yeah.” I struggled to think of anything other than his hands on my skin and the fact no one knew where we were. “Are you in a hurry to get me to the airport?”

  “No. I’m trying to talk to you because all this aloneness is competing with my good manners.”

  I smiled. “Okay then. Did I tell you I had to tell a school that was following up on my application that I’d accepted New York’s offer? Two months ago I was making plans to live above a bar and attend community college. Today I was apologizing to a top photography school because I’d accepted a competing offer.”

  “Nice. How’d it feel?”

  “Amazing.”

  He laughed. “Did I tell you that two months ago, I promised myself I wouldn’t go back to Kent without asking you out?”

  “Shut up.” I ran a palm over his stubble-covered cheek and traced his bottom lip with the pad of my thumb.

  “I’m dead serious. I’ve wanted to know you for years. When we were kids, I just wanted a playmate. Later, I wanted to ask you about your camera. I’d never seen one like it. I wanted to know why you walked alone every night taking pictures of the moon.”

  “You saw that?”

  “Yeah. I always wanted to go with you, but I was afraid to ask and I had to be home when the lightning bugs came out.” He tugged the hem of my tank top back into place and laced his fingers with mine. “By high school, I’d resolved to forget about your camera and mind my own business.” He kissed my temple and slid our joined hands over my head.

  “You had enough high school business to keep anyone busy.”

  “That was all my mom’s doing. She was obsessed with scholarship money, so I played all the sports. I joined all the clubs. I ran myself senseless for her. She’d been through too much with Dad. I didn’t want to disappoint her. She’d hoped I’d apply to med school, so you can imagine her thrill to find my preoccupation with food transport and agriculture.”

  “Think of all the money you saved her on tuition.”

  He rolled onto his back beside me. “You should tell her that. I still get the cold shoulder feeling from her sometimes.”

  I curved my arm over his chest and rested my ear over his heart, eager to hear the happy beat. My head rose and fell with his quick breaths. “I don’t want to leave.”

  His hand moved protectively across my back. “I know.” He stroked my hair, wrapping the tips over his fingers and tugging gently. “It’s okay to want to stay.”

  “Am I crazy to go? I don’t want to leave you and Heidi, or Josh and Beth, and I’m just getting to know Mark.”

  “Hey.” Dean’s voice became a sweet caress. “You can have everything, Katy. Family, f
riends, your dream education, you can have it all. I do. You don’t have to choose. When you love people, they don’t go away because you have other things to do for a while. My folks can’t stand one another, but they’re both here for me when I come home. Dad invites me over to watch the game or go out for a day on the lake. Mom cooks nonstop until my pants won’t button. Your family’s the same. Heidi and the other girls I’ve seen you with, they’ll be here when you come home. Plus, you’ll make more friends than you can count at school. I’m not joking. Everyone’s the same age on campus. They’re happy and excited to be there. There’s always something to do. The people in your classes will have the same interests. You’re going to be crazy happy. I promise. If someone’s not here when you get back, there’s this wacky little thing called the Internet. There’s Skype. E-mail. Facetime.” He ticked fingers off near my nose. “Texting, cell phones…”

  “What about us?” There. I’d asked. “What happens to us when school starts again?”

  Alarm shocked his features wide. “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “No.” I tossed hay at him. “Stop asking that. I’m trying to find out what happens to us after this.”

  His blue eyes softened into a look I wanted to memorize and take out on lonely nights this fall. “I’m hoping we can keep this going.”

  “Long distance dating during college?”

  “Longer, I hope.” He broke into a smile. “The dating part I mean, not the long distance part. I’m hoping fate brings us back together when you finish making a big deal of yourself up north.”

  My heart swelled.

  “I thought we could start a ritual, like talking every Sunday night, to catch up on our weeks and vent about the assholes who aggravate us, or just fall asleep online together knowing we aren’t alone.”

  He’s thought about this. “Yeah?”

  “Sure. I can reassure you when you have the usual freshmen struggles and you can tell me what it’s like to stand in Times Square.”

  I licked my lips and nodded eagerly. “Deal.”

  “I’ll always be here if you want me.” Sincerity burned in his voice.

  I fought a mammoth smile. “Fine. I get to have everything. Are you happy?”

  “Almost.”

  “Almost?”

  “It’s a little warm tonight. I’d probably be happier if we slept in our underpants.”

  I laughed and rolled off his chest onto the layers of soft blankets. This would never stop being my favorite summer memory, even if I lived to be a hundred.

  Chapter 26

  Heidi angled an over-sized curling iron near my head, searching for any strand of hair that dared not twirl like the rest. “Your hair is magnificent. Why don’t you do this every day?”

  I fiddled with my lip gloss in the mirror. “It took you an hour. No one has time for that.”

  “Totally worth it.” She air-framed my head with her hands. “Look at this. Seriously.”

  I stared incredulously at our reflections. “I like it how it normally looks.”

  Her mouth fell open. Offense screwed her face into a knot.

  “I like this, too,” I backpedaled. “A lot. It’s gorgeous,” I promised. “I love it and it’s amazing.”

  “But?”

  “But...” I scrambled for a way to make her smile again. “But all these curls are obviously meant for a special occasion. If I looked like this every day, what would I do when I had a fantastic going-away party to attend?”

  She unplugged the curling iron and set it on its legs. “Fine. That’s a good point, I guess.”

  I stood to evaluate the complete girl-next-door look. Long sun-streaked hair hung in ringlets down my back and over both shoulders, contrasting sharply with the deep purple hue of my tank top. My jeans were soft and my feet were bare. All I needed were sandals, and I was ready to go.

  Heidi had gone with her usual, complicated, pinup girl look. She’d raided her mom’s store for a strawberry red pinafore dress and kitten heels. Her hair flew out in every direction from beneath a white satin headband. “How do I look?”

  “Gorgeous.” The overall look was adorable and way better than the nineteen sixties A-line femmebot number she had on first.

  She did a weird dip, hip, snap move, and struck a pose. “Thank you, darling.”

  Oh, boy. I checked my messages and the time. “It’s almost seven. We’ve got to go. Mark made me promise to be there before people started showing up.”

  She grabbed her purse and turned for the door. “Smart. He’s not known for congeniality. I’m still shocked he agreed to have the party in your backyard.”

  “Me, too, but he’s trying. I know it’s hard for him.”

  “How was fishing this morning?”

  “Perfect. The fish were biting and Mark caught one he’ll be talking about in ten years.”

  We passed a pile of sealed boxes and colorful plastic totes on the porch. Heidi slowed to stare at them. “This is the last time we’ll ever leave my house together before we go to college. Who knows what we’ll be like the next time we’re here like this? We could be totally different next time. Everything can change in a year.”

  Everything can change in a minute. She probably didn’t need to hear that right now.

  “What if this is our last time together on this porch? Ever?”

  The fine hairs on my arms stood at attention, and I rubbed them down. “Not going to happen. When do you leave?”

  She blinked emotion-filled eyes and long false lashes. “Mom’s driving me to Kent after breakfast. When’s your flight?”

  “Ten fifteen. I have to be at the airport an hour and a half early, so Dean’s picking me up at seven. I’m getting up before dawn to double check my packing.” Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t sleep.

  “Is Mark going with you to the airport?”

  “No, but he’s making pancakes.”

  She was silent for a moment before seeming to accept it. “So, this is it.” She bounced onto her toes and squeezed my hands in hers. Her fruity body spray wafted up my nose. I tried to take a mental picture of her like this, young, happy, wonderful. “Everything’s changing.”

  Tears hung heavy in my eyes. “Hey, I thought you couldn’t wait to leave. Where’s that enthusiasm now? It’s not fair to go sentimental on me before my good-bye party. I’ll show up a sobbing mess.”

  She dropped my hands to dig a pair of tissues from her purse. She handed one to me and carefully collected the tears at the corner of her eyes. “This is basically horrible. Why do people grow up? Why does everything change? The idea of going was great…but this.” She sniffled. “This sucks.”

  I pulled her against my chest and held her tight. “Everything always changes. It’s okay.”

  She nodded frantically and pushed away from me, smoothing her dress. “Okay. Jeez. Don’t get me started with the crying. I can’t stop once I get going. Don’t mess up your hair. Do you know how long that took me?”

  “Yeah. An hour.”

  She lifted her chin. “That’s right, so be careful.” Her small smile was sad but hopeful. “We’ll always be best friends, right? Even if you meet a million uber-chic people in New York and think Woodsfield is for Betty Sues and cow tipping and you get way too famous to come home. Even then, we’ll still be cool, right?”

  I grabbed her again and buried my face in her big red hair. “Yes, and when you become a world-famous designer and visit New York for Fashion Week and don’t have time to sleep or call home, you’ll still make time to have coffee with me, right?”

  She pulled away and quirked her ruby lips to the side in faux consideration. “Will you do your hair like this?”

  “If I don’t cut it off in an adorable pixie cut to show my newfound big-city confidence, then yes.”

  “Don’t even.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  We rode in silence to my house.

  I stretched and c
urled my fingers outside the open window, trying and failing to hold onto the warm summer air and this moment in time. Our favorite song from junior high school boomed through her speakers, transporting me to a time when things were simple and nothing changed. Now, my life was in flux, everything was changing, and I wanted to hold onto this reality forever. I also wanted to let it go and fly away.

  “Why are all these people carrying blankets and folding chairs?” Heidi slid her car against the curb at the end of my street. “Who did you invite tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Your mom and Sylvia thought a community-wide send-off for the seniors would be fun. They said they were making a few calls.”

  She pulled her car keys out of the tumbler and rolled her head against the rest. “Yeah. I think that was a lie. I think they took out an ad on the evening news.”

  I opened the passenger door and the muffled bass of a country song drifted through the air from somewhere beyond our rear gate. The front lawn teemed with locals hauling covered dishes, chairs, and coolers. Twinkle lights lined the porch, the fence surrounding our backyard and the driveway. Worry coursed through me. “Mark must be crapping his pants right now.”

  I drifted along the sidewalk to the drive and made my way into the backyard with Heidi at my side. Music poured from speakers propped in the kitchen window. A hodgepodge of card tables with plastic cloths and mismatched dishes from every house in town lined the fence. An onslaught of scents, from spicy fried chicken to rich homemade fudge, saturated the air.

  I smiled and waved as I made my way through the crowd. “This is unbelievable.”

  Mark was on the back porch in a “Kiss the Cook” apron, looking like he might flatten anyone who tried.

  “Nice apron.” I tugged the rough fabric between my fingertips.

  He harrumped. “Sylvia insisted.”

  “Really?” I extended the word, pondering the implication Sylvia could get him to wear such a stupid thing or have this massive party.

  He looked freakishly at home, pushing masses of hotdogs over hot grates.