Beyond annoyed, I went on the offense. “Who are you,
the fashion police? You haven't seen me in years Sebastian, what
makes you think you know me well enough to presume anything about
my likes, or dislikes? If you plan to spend breakfast criticizing
my looks and fashion sense, Janey can turn the car around. I’d
prefer to spend time with my dog—HE likes me."
Bas was silent. “You're right, old habits die hard. I
don't want to fight,” he offered as a half-assed apology. “You've
always had long hair, I see it in all the photos Janey sends me. I
don't think she's sent me one picture over the years which didn't
have both of you in it. I've never seen your hair cut, or your
nails short. It surprised me, that's all.
“The huge boulder at your other side is my friend,
David Preston,” Bas continued, no doubt hoping to change the
subject. “We served together the last four years and got out of the
Navy within a couple of days of each other. I talked him into
coming out to Spokane with me to see if he'd like to settle in this
area.”
I turned my head slightly in David's direction,
making a conscious effort to tilt my head so my hair brushed my
cheeks and shaded my face. “Spokane is wonderful, David. I'm sure
you'll love it here. I've traveled quite a bit, but I think this
area is one of the most beautiful I've seen.”
“I'm looking forward to checking it out. Bas is
pretty sure I'll end up moving here. I have to admit he made it
sound like heaven.” David's voice was low and sexy, with a purring
rumble which made the back of my neck tingle. Thankfully my hair
hid any blush resulting from the brief mental comparison to Cat’s
purr-motor, and my memory of our “conversation” on Janey’s
couch.
“You'll have to ask Bas to take you for a walk along
the Falls; we had a lot of snow last season, so the water is high
with melt-off from Mt. Spokane. There are several places to catch
some spectacular views of the waterfalls in town.” We chatted
amiably about attractions in Riverfront Park, and some of the clubs
close to his hotel.
Bas leaned over and whispered, “So darn polite.” His
breath caressed the shell of my ear, his tone so low I was sure
David couldn't hear the words, although, by his sudden silence, I
knew he realized Bas was talking to me.
“So tell me about the asshole from the other day.” My
head snapped up toward Bas and a few sharp words hovered on my
tongue. Before I could filter out what to say, he snatched my
sunglasses off the end of my nose.
Irritation exploded through me. How did he do it? How
could he make me shrink into myself so that all I wanted to do was
disappear? I turned my head, avoiding the hand brushing at my hair
in an effort, most likely, to grab my chin and turn my face back to
him.
“Bas! Enough!” David's voice was abrupt. Clipped. An
officer's tone—well, well, well.
“She's done nothing but hide since she got in the
damn vehicle,” he growled. “It’s damn annoying.” His tone addressed
me, “You used to have a spine, little mouse. You've avoided me for
twelve years, and I'm sick and tired of tip-toeing around you.” His
voice was harsh and critical. So much for a kinder and gentler
Bastian. I could feel the tears welling up and I detested myself
for showing weakness. No, not for showing weakness—for feeling
weakness.
Janey abruptly pulled the car over and hit the
brakes, “Out Bastian!” she yelled at her brother. “Get out of the
goddamned car and take a friggin’ walk back to your hotel. It’s my
fault she's here. Teresa tried to tell me she didn't want to come,
and I had to pressure her. I thought you'd matured enough to leave
her alone. I hoped the two people I love most in the world could
find some common ground, but no; you have to prove you're a
bully.
“Teresa has been nothing but polite, and you choose
to mock her for it. Fine. Get your cantankerous ass out of the car
and take a walk. I'm having breakfast with Teresa and Ken. I’m
looking forward to getting to know your friend David, too. Who is,
by the way, also polite; I don't know what your problem is with
well-mannered people.”
“Janey—” Bas started.
“No! Out! I've had enough. I'll call you after
breakfast. Maybe we can meet up for dinner.”
The door opened and I felt Bas' hand move to unlatch
the seat belt. I kicked myself for leaning away from him, and into
David, like some kind of Victorian miss. In a surge of defiance, I
lifted my face to Bas as he leaned over the buckle. I caught the
faint sweetness of toothpaste when he exhaled across my cheek,
getting an unimpeded view of my damaged face. “Jesus,” he said,
whisper-soft. “You almost lost that eye.”
“Take a good look, Bastian. This is why I hide my
face. I can't see people, but I feel the stares. I have better
hearing now, so I hear the in-drawn, horrified breaths, and the
not-so-subtle comments. It’s my right to protect myself, because
people are cruel and petty. People are selfish and thoughtless.
People want beauty and it scares them to see imperfection.” I
turned away, letting my hair fall forward again. I. Will. Not.
Cry!
“I am tired of people being thoughtless assholes
because I don't conceal the scars.” I looked up in his direction
again; refusing to hide like the mouse he accused me of being. If
you're going to say something life altering to someone, you should
have the balls to look them in the eye, so to speak. “I'm tired of
people like
you
being an asshole because I’m not
perfect.”
I felt as if my teeth were clenched down on a
mouthful of razor-sharp words, and I wanted to spit every one of
them in his direction. I wanted to cut him with those sharp edges
and make him bleed. “Go back to your hotel room. Take a nice long
look in the mirror at that sinfully handsome face of yours, Bas.
Look into those terribly beautiful eyes which stare out at the
world with cold brutality and mocking disdain. Be sure to admire
that chiseled body the gods would envy, and know this truth: it’s
not how you look in the mirror that's important. What's important
is how you are reflected in the eyes of the people who love you. Be
happy I'm not one of those people, Sebastian Declan.” I could feel
my lip curl up in a sneer, “Because I find you lacking. I find your
reflection to be ugly, as ugly as the scars on my face make
me.”
I turned away in dismissal. Hating Bas. Hating myself
for finally voicing my dislike in front of Janey, who loved her
brother. Hating I’d put her in the middle of a situation which had
built from fear into loathing over a dozen years of avoiding
him.
Bas reached out and touched my arm. Yep, couldn't
help it, I flinched again. “I am so very, very sorry,” his voice
was low and raspy. He withdrew from the vehicle and closed the door
firmly, but not with the anger I expected.
“Well,” I said into the shocked silence, “I think
I've about ruined everyone's appetite. Feel free to drop me back at
my house now.”
Janey made the apology I should have thought to make.
“David, I'm sorry you were caught in the center of our family
drama. If it’s alright with everyone, I'd like to have breakfast at
my house.” Without waiting for anyone's input, Janey pulled back
into the flow of traffic.
“Aww, you're gonna make me cook, aren't you?” Ken
whined, teasingly. “You are so gonna owe me some really great sex
for this.”
I snorted, “Well Ken, a woman can only rise to the
performance of her partner. You may need to kick it up a notch if
you want
great
sex.”
“Oh zing!” Janey laughed. “Actually, he doesn't do
too badly for such a young buck, especially when you take into
account he was gay only a couple of days ago.”
“Gay?” David asked cautiously, confused but
understanding there was a joke here somewhere.
The fifteen minute trip to Janey's house was spent in
spirited retelling of the months leading up to the Great Reveal.
I'm sure David was initially tempted to escape the vehicle at the
first available opportunity, but he soon joined in with the
teasing. In that one morning, he became one of us. A friend.
Ken started clanging pots and pans in the kitchen as
soon as we arrived. Within a short time, I was able to enjoy the
smell of sausage while slurping my first mug of coffee for the day.
Finally. My world was improving with each gulp.
While the food was cooking, I settled into my
favorite spot on the sofa. Cat was sprawled over the couch back
absorbing the early morning sunshine. She bestirred herself enough
to give me an obligatory greeting; a paw swipe this time. Having
bonded over true confessions the rules now dictated acknowledging
your bud when they came into a room. I appreciated her assurances
my secrets were safe, and expressed as much with a vigorous scratch
of her up-raised rump.
Welcome ritual completed, I sipped my coffee, happy
to divert myself from uncomfortable reflection on tearing Bastian
apart. Some people need squirrels or shiny objects for distraction.
Hand me a fragrant mug of java and you can lead my mind
anywhere.
My attention focused on the conversation between
Janey and David. There were a few remarks thrown out from the
direction of the kitchen, but I doubt Ken could really hear well
over the sizzle of meat and frying potatoes. David’s relaxed
demeanor soon put me at ease. Having anxiously recovered my
sunglasses from where Bas left them on the back seat, I now
casually tossed them onto the coffee table while we all sat around
in the living room.
I was comfortably wedged into the cushions when Ken
called us to the table for breakfast. A deep inhale to absorb the
blend of smells from the kitchen convinced me moving was in my best
interest.
For expediency, Janey led me to my usual spot at her
table which put her on the right, David to my left, and Ken
directly across from me. After months of familiarity, I already
knew how my food would be placed on my plate. I'm not a huge toast
fan, but Ken usually made me a slice with every meal, as I found it
was a great tool to hold food steady without using fingers.
Predictably, even though I could smell a waffle, I found the toast
at twelve o'clock. Toast was a stronger implement.
In between bites of waffles, potatoes, and sausage,
David shared stories about Navy life, growing up as a military
brat, and informed us his parents and younger brother still lived
in Oregon. I found the more I listened to him, the more I enjoyed
David's easy manner and wicked sense of humor. He was sexy, smart,
endearing, sexy... oops, that slipped out again. Sugar overload
from the maple syrup? I briefly wondered. Mental shrug, who cares?
I forked another maple-drenched bite of waffle into my mouth.
David was going to turn forty in November. He had put
in his twenty-one years of service and was looking forward to new
career opportunities. His military specialty, as a warrant officer,
had involved computer programming for complex satellite imaging. It
was a job he could do freelance from anywhere in the country.
Janey loved hearing the stories about Bas, and quite
frankly, I found a few of them amusing myself. Who would have known
Bas had a sense of humor and could get into so much trouble? It
almost made him human. Though I suspected the stories emphasizing
Bas' good qualities were greatly exaggerated for Janey's benefit, I
actually liked David more for giving her such a wonderful gift.
After our meal, when we were all comfortable in the
living room, David surprised me by asking about the accident and my
months of recovery. His questions were blunt without being
offensive, probing without being painful, and insightful enough to
leave me wondering about his intuitiveness. At one point, he even
talked me into letting him examine my face, and he traced the
deepest scar with large calloused fingers. “Bas was right about
this one,” he said quietly. “You
did
come close to losing
your eye. You must have had a hell of a team of surgeons to have
saved it.”
“It was close,” I admitted. “Twice they came in to my
room and argued about whether or not they should remove the eye,
but I really wanted to try to save it. It was painful, but I'm glad
they tried; even gladder they succeeded.” This was the perfect
opportunity to tell David about my Booty of Pirate Bears and their
decorative eye patches—a story good for a lot of laughs.
When we finished our coffee, Janey pulled me aside
while the guys went out to the deck to take in the view. Her voice
choked with emotion when she hugged me and spoke softly into my
hair. “I owe you an apology, Teresa. You have tried, for years, to
shield me from seeing how much Bas disliked you. You've never said
a bad word, or indicated in any way he showed you disrespect.” She
sniffled, “You've done an even better job of hiding how much you
fear him. I would never have insisted you come with us if I'd
known. I was so shocked to see you jerk away when he touched you.
How stupid am I?”
I hugged Janey back and tried to find the right
words. “I love you Janey. You are closer to me than a sister, and
as dear to my heart. The truth of the matter is, Bas and I simply
don't get along. I could have said no to breakfast, but I wanted to
try.”
I held her a little tighter, then loosened my hug so
she could read my face. “Your brother has never tried to hurt me,
so don't over-think this, okay? But, Bas has always intimidated me
with his sheer size and presence. I would have been fine if I could
still see—I would have had a measure of control. But I felt trapped
in the vehicle, and let's face it Janey, Bas is a predator—I was
acting like prey. I couldn't have waived a bigger red flag in front
of bull if I'd tried. He and I have proven we can be civil if you
don't put us in an enclosed space together,” I teased. “We can
continue to play our game of avoidance and polite inanities.