The Clearing (21 page)

"What about her? We broke up at the end of the summer."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. It wasn't working out. So, where are you? I tried to find out, but your mom wouldn't say. She always did hate me," he said.

"Not always."

"Hmm. I want to see you. I miss you," he said, his voice low and rumbly.

Warmth rushed into my chest. "I—I missed you, too," I said. And it came out so easily, it didn't even feel like I was lying. In fact, I'm not sure that I was.

"Where are you?"

I swal owed back the lump in my throat. "Rockvil e. I'm staying with my great-aunt Mae in this dump of a town."

"Nice," he said. "Country girl, yee-haw."

I smiled. I could picture him making a goofy face at me like he did sometimes.

"You gonna be down to visit your mom anytime soon?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said.

"I'd take you out to dinner. I'd even make you dinner," he said. "In fact, my parents are heading out of town on vacation soon. Maybe you could come down. I can think of lots of things we could do with the house to ourselves," he said.

"Um. I don't know."

"Tsk, tsk," he said, the seduction suddenly gone from his voice. "Same old tease, Amy, huh? Thought maybe you'd changed."

"What?"

"Come on, you know what I mean. Always teasing, and never, wel ,
almost never
giving it up," he said, exhaling.

"Don't you want to just hang out? I mean, you said you missed me."

The line went quiet. "I say a lot of things," he said final y.

And then I heard a click.

"What? No freaking way!" I clicked my phone off and stuffed it back into my purse. I wil ed myself not to cry, but the tears came anyway.

Leaning against the building, I stared out at the rain as another car's headlights blazed over me, then faded away. Stupid Matt. Stupid me. I was mad at myself for cal ing him. And even madder at myself for believing he actual y missed me. I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to warm myself.

"Hey! You want my jacket?" Jackson walked toward me. "It's freezing out here," he said.

"No. Thanks, anyway." I sniffed and wiped my cheeks.

"You want to come back inside?" he offered.

"Not real y, but I wil ," I said.

He cracked a smile. "Whatever they said, I'm sure they're real y sorry about it," Jackson said. "You know how mean girls can be."

I shrugged. I didn't care about Lori and her friend. I didn't care about anything. None of this was real. And apparently, none of my old life was real, either.

***

Somehow, I made it through the rest of dinner. I didn't real y talk to Lori and Mindy, though they apologized profusely. I mean, maybe they were right

—maybe I hadn't real y given the town a chance, and actual y I didn't care that I hadn't. The only good thing about the town, wel , except for Jackson, was Henry.
Had been
Henry.

When we reached the school parking lot, Jackson opened the truck door and helped me out. He hadn't said much on the way over, and I was grateful for that. He held an umbrel a over my head as I teetered across the pavement in my heels. Lori, Rob, and Mindy were just ahead of us in line to enter.

Inside, the gym was al decked out for the dance. The bal oons Lori and I had blown up earlier that day were tacked up everywhere. The red carpet was rol ed out, and couples were posing in front of a backdrop of the Hol ywood sign for their official homecoming photos. Rob and Jackson went off to hang up our coats and umbrel as. Mindy pushed ahead through the crowd, but I nearly ran right into Lori, who'd paused on the carpet.

Clearly terrified, she was staring straight ahead at Melanie and her entourage.

In that moment, I seriously felt for Lori. I knew what it was like to be
that
girl. To have fear take you over so completely, you'd rather freeze in one place than go forward and fail again spectacularly. I wasn't going to let her fail. "Hey. You look great," I said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Let's walk in there and give them something to talk about."

Lori reached down to smooth her skirt. "You sure? I don't have lipstick on my teeth? Cat hair on my wrap?"

"No. Don't you worry about those idiots, okay?"

She gave me a grateful smile.

I turned to go, but she put a hand on my arm. "Hey, Amy—wait. I'm sorry about before at the restaurant. You know me, I always talk way too much. I should have shut me and Mindy both up."

"No, it's okay," I said. "It was probably true."

She sighed. "Wel , I want you to know, you are a good friend. I real y mean it." Her face looked so serious, her brown eyes searching my face for a reaction.

"Aw, thanks, Lori." I hugged her. "You ready? Let's do this," I said.

"Yeah." Lori threw back her shoulders, strutting down the red carpet toward the photographers. She grabbed Rob's hand and pul ed him into line with her, along with Mindy.

"Whew! What's got into Lori?" Jackson said, returning from the coat check.

"Nothing."

Jackson smiled. "Wel , I'm glad you two worked it out. She needs a friend like you."

"Yeah, maybe." I shrugged, and we moved forward in line.

Ahead of us, in front of the cameras, Lori, Rob, and Mindy hammed it up. Off to the side, Melanie, in her
Bride of Frankenstein
outfit, rol ed her made-up eyes. Lori, noticing Melanie, grinned extra wide in her direction. The flashes went off as the photographers captured the moment.

Jackson and I took our turn for pictures and then moved out toward the dance floor. I watched the kids at the punch bowl, the couples doing their best to move to the radio hit the DJ was playing. Then, Melanie and Quinn moseyed out onto the dance floor in their monster costumes. I guessed they would probably be king and queen, the way things went down at this school.

"Hey there, beautiful dame, let's dance," Jackson said, taking hold of my arm gently.

I let him lead me onto the dance floor, wishing that I could just like Jackson back. He was exactly the type of guy I
should
like—the kind who actual y cared.

actual y cared.

Suddenly, the music changed from the fast pop tune to a romantic bal ad. I stood there, not sure what to do. "Awesome transition, DJ," I muttered.

Jackson reached for my hands and pul ed me close to dance. "I know you'd rather be listening to something else," he said. "Thanks for pretending."

"Sure," I said. "I'm a good pretender."

He pul ed back and studied my face. "Nah. I see through it," he said. "You're not so good with pretending."

I sighed and backed away from him.

"Amy, I'm joking. Come on. Don't walk away. Dance with me."

"'Kay." We started moving again.

"I would never do anything to hurt you," he said almost in a whisper.

"Jackson." I couldn't find the words to tel him I didn't feel any other way about him. I couldn't find the words to tel him that I was confused and mixed up and rejected al in one. It would have been so easy to fal back on Jackson. It felt nice in his arms, but he wasn't for me. And I wasn't going to use him to make me feel better about anything—about myself.

"You're a pretty decent dancer, sailor," I said.

"You're not so bad yourself." Jackson held me tighter.

I tried to squash down the wish that I was with Henry. Henry had been the one person who'd loved me for me. Who, even though it was freaking impossible to be together, had been there for me. And I'd hurt him, obviously. When I told him the truth, he thought it was because I didn't want him. He'd thought I'd wanted him to fade into the future without me—and so he'd sent me away.

He'd been the one rejected, not me. And I'd given up on him so easily. He was the one I wanted to slow dance with. Who I belonged with.

My heart squinched down into a tiny, tiny knot in my chest. And I knew the one place I should be. It wasn't at the dance.

***

"I stil don't get why you wanted to go home so early," Jackson said.

"Thanks. I'l talk to you tomorrow." I gave him a kiss on the cheek and then slammed the truck door shut. I saw Mae's hand pul back the curtain on the living room window, watching our goodbye.

"How was it?" Mae asked as I came into the house.

"A disaster," I said. I slipped off her shoes and got into my boots. "I'l tel you al about it later."

"Amy!" Mae cal ed out, but I was out the back door and down the porch steps.

The rain splashed on my face as I ran through the woodlot. I had to get to Henry. I was suddenly worried that he'd moved forward and that I'd never see him again. I had to make sure he was stil out there. I had to find him before it was too late.

Behind me, I could hear Katie barking, but I kept on running. I needed to tel Henry how I felt. Even if Henry's reality was fake, what I'd felt for him had been the real thing. It was clear to me now. And if I couldn't have Henry, at least he had shown me what love looked and felt like.

I shivered with the realization that I loved him. Despite what had happened, despite the fact we could never be together. I loved him. Maybe if he knew that, he would be able to go on and find some kind of happiness. Maybe he'd have the courage to move on and reunite with his brother.

Maybe he'd have some faith that his mother was going to be safe. Maybe knowing that what we had shared had been real would set him free.

Yes!
My heart soared as the mist came into view, hanging like a shimmering veil in the rainy night. I entered the clearing, feeling it envelop me with its dampness. Tonight it felt delicious, sensuous, on my skin. And maybe that was because it was going to be one of the last times I would feel it. I passed the stump, sprinting the last few yards the best I could in my boots and dress.

Pushing through the barrier to Henry's side sucked the wind out of me, and I stood on the path to the farmhouse, trying to catch my breath. It was stil there—everything. The fertile apple tree. The abundant garden. He hadn't moved forward yet. Hadn't moved forward without saying goodbye. That comforted and saddened me al at once.

I took a few steps down the path, noticing the house was il uminated again, white light streaming from al the windows into the night. And there was the stil ness again—the uncomfortable stil ness that had been there on my last visit. Memories of Henry's anger on the porch flashed through my mind, and I was suddenly struck by the feeling of being unwanted. Of being an intruder.

"You don't belong here," I said aloud. And the words resonated in my bones.

So what if I loved Henry. Did he love me? Mae told me once that love always makes the first move. That love gives without hesitation. But I had been the only one reaching out. I was the one who came into the clearing and found him. I was the one who wanted to cross over to his side. I was the one who had made everything happen.

I stopped on the path, staring toward the house. Maybe Henry would look out the window and see me. Maybe he would come to the clearing and we could be together once more in a place where time didn't exist for either one of us. Thoughts flooded my mind. I was scared of him sending me away. I was scared of him rejecting me again.

And I wanted him to be the one to want me.

I waited on the path, wil ing him to look out the window. To wonder about me. To come look for me. To risk
something
for me. But he didn't come.

After a few moments, I wandered back down the path into the milky whiteness, not bothering to look back. When I reached the place in the clearing where we'd first met, I unpinned my corsage and placed it on the stump.

"Goodbye," I whispered. "And good luck, Henry."

I walked slowly back through the clearing and broke through on our side. Katie was at the edge of the woodlot, barking like crazy.

"It's okay, girl. I'm right here," I said.

She kept barking ferociously. I ran closer to see what she was going nuts over. And I found Mae unconscious on the ground.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"What are you doing al alone in here?" Grandpa Briggs stood in the doorway.

"Nothing much." Henry sat up on his brother's bed. "Just thinking about Robert," he said.

Grandpa entered and sat down in the desk chair. "I've been doing some thinking, too." Grandpa picked up one of the toy airplanes on Robert's desk and turned the propel er. "You know, son, whatever was going to happen to our family was what was meant to be," he said. "I truly believe the Lord has a plan for al of us."

"This plan wasn't a good one."

"You take the bitter with the sweet," he said. "Can't have one without the other."

"What if it's al bitter?"

"No such thing," Grandpa said with a half smile. He set the airplane back down on the desk. "I've always looked back on the hard times and somehow found the blessings within."

"Wel —"

"Henry, something's been bothering me since that night you explained everything to us in the kitchen. You never told us why you prayed that prayer."

"It had to do with Mother," he said.

"I worried it was about her," said Grandpa.

"If we go forward, something bad might happen."

"True. But what if that is what is supposed to happen? And what if something good comes after the bad? If you don't al ow the one, then the other doesn't happen, either."

Henry nodded. He looked up at the wal s, where Robert had tacked posters of ships and airplanes. His brother had always been fascinated by the service. He had been ready to go when his turn came up. He had been ready to fight. Henry didn't share his brother's fascination. He never had.

"We can't predict what's going to happen any more than we should command what should happen. That's not for us to say." Grandpa got up from the chair and shuffled to the window. He pul ed the curtain back, peering out toward the mist. "Now you have a choice to make."

"I know, sir."

"You let us go forward and let things unfold how they wil , or you keep us here in this falsehood."

"But what about Mother? What if she—"

"Then as painful as it would be, son, that is the way it is supposed to be. We live our lives, and then we pass on."