Read The Art of My Life Online
Authors: Ann Lee Miller
Tags: #romance, #art, #sailing, #jail, #marijuana abuse
He’d always been safe, the one person
she could count on to protect her. But then he’d broken her heart.
Now she stood to lose their friendship, her
dream—everything.
Cal, for reasons known only to him,
toyed with her. It wasn’t like he wanted her beyond friendship and
business partnership. He’d made that clear when he turned down her
offer of sex. Her mind slipped back to the summer before
last.
Cal had been devastated when Raine
broke up with him, stoned or loaded for days—not a good time for
Aly to realize she loved him. Not a good time to think she might be
pregnant from a guy she’d caught naked with the assistant camp
dietician the week before.
Aly had knocked on the outside garage
door where Cal said she could find him. She told him it was an
emergency—hers. She didn’t want him thinking this had to do with
Raine. She did need Cal. He was her best friend.
No answer. She could see light coming
from around the door. She twisted the knob, and the door gave way.
Heavy metal music pulsated from a paint-splattered boom box. Cal
sat on the foot of an open sofa bed, his back to her. He faced
Raine’s portrait propped against a ten-speed bike.
She stepped around the boxes stacked
on the grease-stained cement and looked at Cal. He stared blankly
at the portrait. Was he high? He looked up at her when she stepped
into his field of vision.
She turned the music down. “Raine told
me about the other day. I’m sorry.”
His jaw clenched under the coarse,
brown stubble. “What’s your emergency?”
She sank down beside him on the bare,
fold-out mattress. “I—I think I’m pregnant.”
He looked at her, his expression
losing some of the sullenness. “What are you going to do?” His
voice was flat.
“
I don’t know.” She lay
back on the mattress, blowing all the air out of her lungs. “I did
the math today.” A tear slipped out of the corner of her
eye.
Cal looked down at her. Self-pity and
compassion for her warred in his face. Cal dropped onto one elbow
beside her. “I’m sorry, Al.” He brushed away the tear with the
backs of his fingers. The tenderness he scraped from somewhere deep
inside made her want to cry even more.
Cal gathered her to him with one arm
and held her while she swallowed the tears in her
throat.
She let out a ragged sigh.
“
Hey, it’s not a contest.
You didn’t have to come up with bigger issues than I’ve got.” Cal
lay back, threading an arm around her shoulders.
She gave him a smile that was not a
smile.
“
Your love language is
touch, did you ever realize that? That’s how you give and receive
love. That’s why you—”
“
Say it. That’s why I
sleep with guys when I’ve been taught all my life, it’s wrong.” She
squeezed her eyes shut, but tears leaked out the corners running
across the bridge of her nose and into her hair.
Cal dropped his free arm over her, and
she curled into him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Come on, don’t
cry.”
“
All I’ve ever wanted was
for someone to hold me like you’re holding me now.”
“
You haven’t had a dad
since you were seven. Of course you’re going to go looking for what
you missed.”
The truth of his words soaked into her
spirit, and she cried. Silent sobs racked her body.
When she looked up at Cal, the
overhead bulb caught tear trails running from the corners of his
eyes like slug tracks—for Raine, she was sure. Somehow, that was
okay. She had snuggled her nose against Cal’s scratchy neck where
skin bunched under his chin. There was no place she would rather
have been.
Aly stood and stretched, her
fingertips touching the top of the cabin. But then she’d ruined it
and offered him sex. Cal had turned her down, sweetly, but he’d
turned her down. She’d never met a guy who would refuse sex if he
was remotely attracted to the girl. And it hadn’t been a week later
that Cal slept with Evie.
He’d kissed Aly to say thanks for
listening to his plea for help with his business. Last night he’d
thanked her with a hug—one that lasted too long. That was all. Cal
had been raised a preacher’s kid. Starr had always been so tightly
wound, Aly couldn’t imagine her loosening up enough to have the sex
required to produce three children. Why would Cal even want someone
like her?
No one would ever mistake her for a
good girl like Raine or her sister or Missy. But Aly had begged God
for forgiveness, said a thousand Hail Marys. After thirty-one
months of abstinence, she felt better than she had in years, but
she still couldn’t lift her chin from the shame. And she still
starved for physical and emotional connection like she always
had.
Dad had broken her heart. Cal had done
the same. No way could she survive another one. She would set
boundaries with Cal and stick to them.
Fish balanced a Chinet plate of fried
fish, slaw and chips as he slid onto the picnic table bench across
from Starr and Evie. “Gotta love a church fish fry.” He grinned at
them, inhaling the scent of warm fish, grease, and French
fries.
Evie leaned toward him giving him a
better view of the daisy tattoo and her other attributes. “This is
how I always pictured a family reunion.”
Starr’s mouth quirked in a rueful
smile. “Only with people you like.” She glanced at Fish. “Hi,
stranger. How’re your folks?”
I have no idea. I got their last
e-mail six weeks ago.
“Fine. Everybody’s fine.” He should have
answered them last month. His chest ached when he thought of his
family—even after all this time. But they were the ones who left
him. They deserved his silence.
Starr glanced at Evie. “Sean’s
parents, two sisters, and brother started an orphanage in Peru
seven years ago.” Starr focused back on him. “I was just telling
Evie, now that she’s got her GED, she should pick up some college
classes.”
Relief that Starr switched gears from
his family to Evie swam through him. He swallowed a mouthful of
snapper. “Go to school, Evangeline, better yourself.”
Evie narrowed her eyes. “What, I’m not
good enough for you if I don’t go to stinkin’ college? Well, in
street smarts, I’m a freaking genius.”
A wistful expression settled on
Starr’s face. “If somebody had cared whether I went to college,
maybe I would have gone.”
He’d never thought about what it must
have been like to have Henna and Leaf as mother and father. Maybe
he wasn’t the only one who felt parentally shortchanged.
“
I’ve got ambition,” Evie
said. “I want a nice car,
My Chemical Romance
cranked, wind
blowing through my hair, nails done at the salon.”
He had ambition, too, to prove he
didn’t need Mom and Dad, to make it in politics. He’d coasted
through college on the seven-year plan and figured he’d eventually
get around to law school and prepping for a run at the Florida
senate. Cal’s nearly deep-sixing the dream had catapulted him into
full-on pursuit.
Still, the legal aid idea niggled at
him. Ever since Missy mentioned it, he kept envisioning himself in
the role—and liking it. Another New Smyrnan, Sue Ellen Henderson
had parlayed a her law degree into work for Habitat for Humanity.
Yeah, the suggestion warranted exploration. As did Missy and the
hurt he’d seen under her anger. He just hadn’t figured out how to
approach her.
Missy plopped down on the bench next
to him, tossed a
hey
at the group, and faced Starr. “Could
you give me a ride to the library? I’ve got study group in half an
hour.”
Fish leaned into Missy’s orange
blossom shampoo scent. “I’m headed out. I’ll give you a lift.” He
dropped his napkin onto his plate and stood.
Starr shot him a grateful smile.
“Thanks, Fish. Say hello to your family for me.”
Way to put a fist in his gut.
“Right.”
Missy’s over-sized shoulder bag
thumped against her jean-clad hip as she walked beside him. “I saw
you wince when Mom mentioned your family. You really need to go see
them. Time to get over your mondo issues. Forgive them.”
“
When did you switch your
major from education to family therapy?”
“
Since when do you have a
clue what I’m majoring in?”
He looked at her. “I read your
Facebook page.”
“
Stalker.”
“
I think you’re the
stalker, finagling a ride from me. Back to your old
ways.”
Missy sputtered. “I so did not stalk
you. Ever. Forget it. I’m walking.” She veered away from his
truck.
He caught her elbow and pulled her
back, nose to nose. “I was kidding. Don’t get pissed. I hate it
when you’re mad at me. You’re such a shrew.” He backed her up
against the truck. “I still haven’t figured out what made you so
mad when I asked you out.” He leaned in close to her face. “I vote
we kiss and make up.” He saw the freckle dust on her cheeks, her
full lips coated in something sparkly he was more than ready to
taste. But the pain staring from her eyes before she dropped her
gaze doused all desire to tease her.
He straightened and opened the
passenger door. “Get in.”
Missy stood still, her face clouded
with indecision.
“
Please. We need to
talk.”
She shot him a wary glance and climbed
in.
His gaze snagged on the way her
long-sleeved navy T-shirt hugged her curves as he shut the door,
and he shot his glance away, kicked some mud from the running
board.
He rounded the truck and slid into the
driver’s seat. “It seems like you’ve been mad ever since the night
I saw you at the marina. What gives?” He cranked the engine and
pulled away from the curb.
“
I’m fine. We’re fine. No
worries.”
“
I may not have hung out
with you a lot lately, but I remember that bottom lip stuck out. It
usually meant Cal had teased you.”
Missy glanced at him. “Hey, thanks for
the ride. I really didn’t want to walk.”
“
Don’t change the subject.
What did I do? Tell me. I’m serious.”
Missy clamped her arms across her
waist. “I don’t want to tell you. It’s humiliating. I’ll get over
it. Things will work out.”
“
We’ve been friends our
whole lives, and you’re important to me.” He rolled to a stop at
the light at US 1. “Spit it out.”
Missy stared out the passenger window.
Her eyes crawled back to his, and she tore them away. “Don’t look
at me like that.”
“
Like what?”
“
Like you’ll sit at this
light for a week if it takes that long for me to tell you what you
want to know.”
“
I will.”
The light turned green. A horn blasted
behind them. He bit back a grin. He should thank her for a great
idea.
She wilted against the seat. “You
win.”
He mashed down the gas pedal and
jerked through the intersection. He glanced at her.
“
You’re right. I should
have talked this out with you years ago.” She faced him. “I didn’t
want you to know how immature I really am. I’ve always wanted you
to see me as close to your age. That was the problem.” She raked a
curl toward her pony tail and it sprung back to where it had been
dangling beside her ear. She looked down at her hands. “I’m so
embarrassed.”
“
Whatever it is, I’ll be
relieved to know.” He hung a left on First Street. “I really do
hate it when you’re pissed—like the time Cal and I played keep-away
with your diary. You were in middle school and didn’t speak to me
for a week.” He pulled into the New Smyrna Beach Public Library
lot, arced into a parking space, and killed the engine.
Missy took a deep breath. “It was the
day of my fifteenth birthday party, and I thought I was all
that—finally mature enough that you’d look at me as a… woman.” She
looked down at the bag she clutched to her chest, cheeks
pinking.
Her voice cracked through the mud of
his memory, but he couldn’t quite remember the day she was talking
about. How much the revelation was costing her and how her words
felt like tiny Macy’s-wrapped gifts he desperately wanted—skidded
together in his head.
“
You and Cal stopped by
for your surf boards. I caught you alone by the garage and told you
I wanted a kiss for my birthday. You looked me over, and I held my
breath. But you called me jailbait and said I’d get my kiss for my
eighteenth birthday.” Missy stared out the passenger window, and he
strained to hear the words she pushed out with stops and
starts.
The day was coming into focus, but
still filmy as though he viewed it through a thin curtain. He
wasn’t sure if he was seeing the past or the picture Missy painted
for him. If she’d wanted him to kiss her when she was fifteen, why
wouldn’t she go out with him now?
“
So, I waited three
birthdays. And… nothing. My eighteenth birthday came and went. The
next time I ran into you was three weeks later. You had no clue
when my birthday was, much less that you’d promised me a kiss.” She
unsnapped her seatbelt.
“
July Fifth.” He pulled
the date out of nowhere, surprised he had it filed somewhere on his
hard drive.
Her lush brows lifted as though he’d
surprised her, too. Then they fell, as if his knowing her birthday
didn’t matter now. “So, I slammed the Sean book shut.”
He faced her, the depth of her
wound—one he inflicted—twisting in his gut. No wonder she couldn’t
let it go. “I’m sorry, Mis. I was an idiot. I would never
intentionally hurt you. I was thoughtless.”
She looked out the passenger window.
“It’s okay.” Her fingers grasped the door handle. “I’ll see
you—”
He couldn’t let her get out of the
truck until they resolved this thing. He reached across the seat
and turned her chin toward him. “It’s not okay. Forgive me. Please.
I had no idea.”
Missy’s eyes met his and held. Her
forehead puckered. He saw the battle going on inside her, glimpsed
how deeply he’d wounded her.
He’d never wanted to fix anything so
badly in his life.
She nodded, a tiny jerk of her head.
Yes, she forgave him.
Thank God
. He lifted a palm to
her cheek and leaned toward her to brush his lips across hers, a
thank you for a recovered friendship, a fresh start.
Missy shook her head and dislodged his
hand, cutting off the kiss before it happened. “I know it’s
stupid—my having a crush on you, like, my whole life. But you can
relax now. It’s over. No payment of kisses necessary. And I won’t
treat you pissy anymore.” She smiled, patted his face as though he
were her toddler nephew, and climbed out of the truck. “Thanks for
the lift.”
He covered his jaw where she’d touched
him. The caress cracked the barrier to the past her words had not.
As he watched her walk through the front doors of the library, his
mind skipped back to her fifteenth birthday. He’d been trying not
to notice how pretty Missy had become for months, maybe even since
she’d turned fourteen. A nineteen-year-old noticing a
fourteen-year-old was plain creepy.
When Missy asked for a kiss, he’d been
shocked by the power of his reaction. And sickened. It had taken
every fiber of his self-control not to kiss her.
He’d avoided her after that and taught
himself to look through her and not at her. Evidently, he’d been
successful—till that night on the dock.
One thing he knew for certain. It
would take a lot more work than he’d anticipated, but he’d give her
that kiss.