When I open my eyes, I realize the sun’s moved and I’ve lost time. I fell asleep. Checking the time on my phone, I swipe the notification from Lacey.
This time I do smile. The other half of my ‘exclusive’ is certifiably nuts.
Seduce Me 04:46 p.m.
I haven’t showered.
04:58 p.m.
That’s gross.
Seduce Me 04:59 p.m.
Maybe, but it’s dirty.
05:00 p.m.
You’re weird. And awkward.
Seduce Me 05:01 p.m.
Trav says you’re having dinner with Bean and I’m not invited.
Sounds cryptic. I’ll see you after?
05:03 p.m.
Not if you don’t shower.
Seduce Me 05:03 p.m.
Ass.
Putting the phone down, I make my way to my bedroom to get dressed and ready for Bean’s plan, bracing for whatever that may be. The smell of Lacey’s presence here fills my bedroom, and I wait for the snap of panic to come.
It doesn’t.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Hayden
For me, walking into Bean’s house without knocking isn’t unusual. Neither is walking in to find Sarah stretched across her couch watching television. She’s addicted to the damn thing. Although he’d never do it, Ace hates it and continuously threatens to pull the cable. It’s one of the only empty threats I’ve ever heard him use in regards to Sarah.
“Hey, squirt.” I greet her while pulling her blonde ponytail that lies across the arm of the couch. She doesn’t flinch or jump. This is a result of her feeling safe and protected; something Ace ensures is available to her and Bean at all times.
She looks up at me standing above her and offers a small smile. “Hi.”
“Where’s everyone at?”
“Kitchen,” she utters, pausing the show and sitting up. She looks unusually tired.
“Rae’s picking me up to take me shopping with her and Lacey.”
“Sounds fun.” It absolutely does
not.
“I heard Ace telling Bean that you and Lacey . . .”
Bracing for her teenage drama, I move my hands to my pockets to avoid the desire to wring her neck in case her smart mouth starts. “Yeah, what about us?”
“I like her. She’s nice.”
“I do, too.”
“Ace told Bean if you hurt her, he’s gonna kick your ass.” And there it is, the mouth.
I smile, still looking down at her seated position. “Well, Ace doesn’t have to worry about that.”
“I’m gonna get dressed.” Sarah stands, dragging the blanket off her body. I hear Trav grunt his disgust in reaction as he stands leaning against the doorjamb with his arms across his chest. She turns in his direction and snaps, “What?”
“Nothing,” he replies with a clenched jaw as he sums up her small boy shorts and barely-there tank top.
She catches on to his reasoning and screeches, “Travis! I’m home, for God’s sake. Bean and I live here. I’m going to get dressed now, so stop staring!”
Trav hits me with another disgusted look in regards to her then turns around and walks in to the kitchen. Sarah winks at me slyly. She does that shit to him on purpose. I smile and enjoy her antics, especially knowing he’s already sick and hung over.
“Catch ya later, Hayden.”
“Hey, squirt?” I stop her before she reaches her bedroom door. She turns to me without saying anything. “Go easy on him. He’s had a bad day.”
“Right,” she answers, flipping her ponytail and not caring about the state of the brute who makes her life Hell as equally as her brother Ace does.
Bean is standing against the counter making iced tea. Ace is sitting at her dining room table drinking a beer, while Trav sits beside him still looking green.
“Well, there you are.” Bean glances to the clock on the stove. “Five thirty-eight,” she states with disappointment.
“I was busy cleaning my apartment, Bean.” I send a quick look to Travis; he should know my bathroom needed a rundown. “I’m sorry.” I kiss her temple and continue walking toward the guys at the table.
“Better late than never, I suppose.”
“What’s up, Bean?” Ace asks with impatience.
“The potatoes are done, the rolls are in the oven, and I’m about to cut the ham.”
Rolling his eyes, knowing he can’t rush Bean into anything, Ace stands and starts taking the food to the table one plate at a time. Trav continues to sit quietly until the food hits his senses, then I catch him gag to himself quietly.
“I’m outtie,” Sarah exclaims, bouncing into the kitchen after changing. She’s wearing a midriff shirt with yoga pants.
Bean skips over the shirt but advises, “Sarah, honey. Wear a coat.”
“Got it,” she answers, leaning her body against the counter and sending a quick glare to Ace and Travis that’s returned with one of their own. I don’t miss the jewelry around her belly button. After hearing Ace’s angry growl, I notice he didn’t miss it either.
“You needed that, I’m sure,” Ace mutters, pinning her with a harsher glare.
“I did.” She lifts her shirt to showcase the piercing. “Got it last week. Loooove it!”
“Put your shirt down, Sarah,” Bean snaps, shaking her head and making her way to the table with shaky legs.
Sarah does what she’s told and hugs Bean from behind sweetly then walks out of the room, yelling behind her, “See ya later, Beanie.”
Bean gives a genuine smile while shaking her head. “That girl. Going to be the death of me, I’m afraid. She makes livin’ fun, though.”
Sarah and Bean are extremely close. More times than not, Sarah takes care of Bean. She watches her intake of meds with more care than a teenager should have to. Rather than hang with her friends, as most teenagers do, Sarah stays home with Bean. They play bingo, go visit friends, and bake together. It’s a soft piece of Sarah rarely enjoyed by others.
“Let’s eat!” Ace says, punching Trav in the arm. The silent groan he offers back amuses the room and all through dinner we laugh at his expense.
“Wait, where’s Toby?” I ask, jealous he got out of this.
“Marlee,” Ace says with an already full mouth of potatoes.
“She okay?”
“Yeah, sick though. After watching him go through that shit not once, but twice, I’m kinda glad all I have is Decklan. Unsure how I’d handle Rae being sick like that all the time.”
“Afraid she wouldn’t give you . . .”
The slap to my hand calls my attention to Bean. “Whatever you were going to say, Hayden Merit, don’t.”
Raising my hands in surrender and thinking quickly, I offer a lie. “I was going to say she wouldn’t give him her time, that’s it.”
“Mmmm, I bet,” she returns with a punishing stare that makes me sink back in my chair. Bean can make you feel like the most precious and important soul on Earth, but she can also make you feel ashamed in the next heartbeat. It’s part of her character. No one escapes it.
After dinner, Bean sends both Ace and Travis out for her weekly grocery run. Travis was eager to get away from dish duty. He didn’t touch any food. He watched Ace inhale it without retching, and he was ready to go.
Turning to Bean after finishing her dishes, I ask, “What else can I help you with?”
There’s a reason we’re all here. I’m waiting.
“Can you get the red box out of my bedroom closet? Top shelf. It’s full so be careful.”
Walking into Bean’s room, I take a quick look around. Sarah keeps her things in order as she likes them. Her dressers are littered with pictures of Sarah, Ace, and recent photos of Rae and Deck are propped beside them proudly. There are even older pictures of Toby, Travis, and me in smaller frames hung against her walls.
She loves us all.
Finding the red box, I pull it down and take a quick last glance of Bean’s room. Last year, Ace had moved both Sarah and Bean into a condo not far from his place. It’s big and doesn’t feel as homey as the old place, but she’s added her character. Her crafts, personal items, and her essence fill the space.
“Got it,” I say, walking back into the living room with the box as she requested.
“Set it down over there, will you?”
As I move Bean’s projects out of the way, she slowly walks to her chair and sits in it without saying anything. I take a seat on the couch across from her and wait.
“I’m not young anymore, Hayden,” she starts to say sadly. “I’ve lived a long happy life, and you’ve been a big part of that.”
“Thanks, Bean,” I respond with the same serious tone. She’s right; I’ve been part of her life since we were all kids. She was my only maternal influence. When I was sick or had an issue at school, it was Bean my father turned to for advice before Cathy came along.
Pulling the box on her lap, she opens it. Pictures start to fall from the top and she catches them one at a time as she studies each of them in turn.
“Look.” Handing me one, she takes more time to recollect. “You boys and your toys.”
It’s a picture of Travis, Ace, Toby, and me. We’re standing inside Travis’s dad’s house. He had us lined against his wall, all holding our prized Christmas presents.
Trav, of course, got a keyboard that year and had it proudly draped across his body, holding it with care. His face reflected how excited he had been to open it.
Ace got a skateboard. I had forgotten about that stupid, intolerable phase he went through. It lasted only until he ran himself into a telephone pole and busted his arm. Toby and I were with him that day. We laughed; he didn’t. I remember him saying how glad he was that Travis wasn’t there to witness it. Travis being the youngest of all of us looked up to Ace like an idol and Ace was worried, even then, about disappointing any of us in showing his flaws.
Sarah had her baby doll. She was so small I hardly remember her at that age. Her focus wasn’t on the camera. In true Sarah form, she was trying to shove the baby’s thumb into its mouth and looking frustrated that it wouldn’t fit. It wasn’t made to.
Toby stands taller than the rest of us, holding his Nike sweatshirt over his head. He was into clothes then, no idea why. He wasn’t into badass toys like the rest of us were.
I was standing at the side of all of them, holding a cheap microphone and watching the others.
“I remember that year.” I remind her of what she probably already knows.
“Me, too.” She smiles gently and grabs another picture.
“This one,” she says, handing it over. “You were all so busy with each other, you hardly noticed me in the room. I liked those moments. I got to see who was up to what without you all trying to fool me.”
I grab this one from her shaky hand and bring it to my view. Travis has Sarah on his lap. Her small fingers look to be tracing the outline of his eyes, and she’s studying his face with intent. She must be five here, making him thirteen—a new teenager. He looks moody, but content and unworried. Ace and Toby are looking at each other laughing at something. I’m staring at Bean with a puzzled expression I don’t remember.
She hands me another one without saying anything. This one is from only two years ago. I remember it; it’s right after Raegan got here. It was taken at Bean’s small apartment they all shared before Ace and Rae truly got together. They knew how they each felt about one another but it was too early to tell then if they would make it.
Sarah, I’m guessing, said something to piss Travis off. He has her in a lock around the head and she’s clutching his large arms with her hands and smiling; he’s not. Toby and Marlee stand at the side laughing at them both. I, again, stand on the other side of all of them with an expression I still can’t place.
History.
I remember who I was at the time, but don’t remember how I felt about it.
“Those pictures you’re holding are yours,” Bean says quietly.
“I can’t take your pictures, Bean. These are your memories.”
She taps the side of her temple. “My memories are here.” She moves her hand to her heart and whispers quietly, “and here.”
“Thank you for these,” I tell her, putting them down on the table with care in front of me.
I sense she’s not done as I watch her sit quietly across from me. “Hayden,” she says with sentiment. “Who do you have in these pictures?”
I’m stalled, not understanding her question. “I don’t . . .”
She picks up the most recent picture, hands it back to me. I stare down, still not understanding.
“Look again.”
I do as I’m told, as I always do what she asks. My mind filters through the photo taking in each person in turn. I realize what she’s asking and it hits my chest with a shattering spark as I do. My throat gets weak and strains as I swallow the lump, feeling it down into my stomach.
Quietly, treading lightly, she continues. “Marlee and Toby have been happy since high school. Ace and Rae, well there’s nothing to explain there. He loved her before he knew it.” She pauses, closing the picture box on her lap and resting her arms on the top, fingers laced within each other. “Travis and Sarah are a pair of their own.” She winks when I look up at her with my eyes widening in surprise. “Not
that
way of course, but he’ll watch her the way he always has. He loves her and she’ll
eventually
figure that out and stop battling him at every turn. But what about you, Hayden?”
I don’t speak, fear rising to the surface in the face of her observation. She’s right. My friends have each other and in a sense, I know I have them . . . to an extent.
This talk from Bean has me reflecting on my drunken discussion with Travis. He cares about me; even being a man, I admit I love him. I wouldn’t ever want to jeopardize that friendship. The things he said to me, although true, were meant as a warning. There was more. In his drunken tirade as he explained everything about me he hated, it dawns on me that he’s also worried about my life and the direction I’m allowing it to go.
I don’t have anyone to share pictures with. I don’t have a Sarah, or Raegan, or Marlee. I have me.
“Ace told me about you and Lacey,” she states plainly, waiting for my reaction. When I don’t offer one, she finishes her thought. “He told me you like her and that he hasn’t seen you look at a woman like that before.”
“It’s new.” I correct her scheme before she takes it too far. “She’s a nut. I like that about her,” I admit, my mind reeling in frames of our time together in rushing detail. Her sticking up for me in the faces of my friends, Ace and Travis. The ass-chew she let Travis have at my place. Her in my bed, letting me hold her all night as I laid next to her studying the ceiling fan in thought.