Dusk (Young Adult Paranormal Romance) (16 page)

O
ur Saturday afternoon picnic at the clearing by the creek provided not only the perfect cover story for what Adrian and I were about to embark on, but also proved to be just as romantic as I’d imagined.

I forced myself to put away the thoughts of my father and the things his image had said to me. True or not, it wasn’t fair for him to hold me hostage to those fears. Even though it might be difficult, I knew I had to try to fight my way out of the self-hatred I’d been steeping in all summer.

In the shade, the warm temperature didn’t overwhelm us as we enjoyed our sandwiches, chips, and cookies. For the entirety of our meal, we avoided the subject of my dad.

We laughed. And it felt good.

“We were sitting in the middle of the cafeteria, with the entire junior class crowded into every available space, and I stood up to ask the presenter a question.” Adrian leaned closer as I recounted one of my more embarrassing moments. “And Mitchell, who was my boyfriend at the time, pulled my chair out from under me. When I sat down, I landed right on my butt in the floor!”

Adrian laughed and his eyes danced with mischief. “I bet he was in the doghouse after that.”

“I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to say,” I said, still laughing at the memory. “I just looked up at him from the floor and said
Mitch!
He said he’d meant to slide the chair back under me as I sat down, but one of his friends called his name and he looked away just as I started to sit.”

“I would’ve enjoyed seeing that,” Adrian cackled.

“You better not go back and revisit that moment!” I nudged him with my shoulder.

He shook his head. “Nah. Probably better in my imagination anyway.”

The laughter made me feel lighter, stronger. Now was the time, with those feelings at the surface.

“So how do we do this?” I crumpled the wrapper from my cookie and tossed it back into the picnic basket Adrian’s aunt had packed for us. “Like, hold hands or something?”

“We’ll need to be touching, yes,” he answered. “But we may as well be comfortable.”

He reclined back on the blanket and opened his arms in invitation. Resting on my side, I aligned my body with his and laid my head against his chest. His arms came around me, and the breeze stirred around us, warm and calming, in that way I’d come to associate with his presence.

“Do you do that?” I whispered. “Make the wind stir like that?”

“It’s one of my perks,” he replied. “Helps people relax.”

“Are you trying to hypnotize me?” I joked, my voice soft and quiet.

I felt the rumble of his chuckle beneath my cheek. “Just want you to be as chill as possible. I won’t show you anything that will hurt you, and I promise nothing bad will happen to you. But it’ll be pretty emotional. I want to be sure you’re ready.”

I closed my eyes and let his presence and the breeze that moved across my skin lull me into a peaceful state of mind.

I trusted him to take care of me, and to show me only things that would help me. “I’m ready.”

The scene unfolded before us as if we’d just turned the page of a photo album. I took note of my surroundings. The parking lot of Pots and Plants, the local nursery. Lots of people loading up their cars with flowers for their spring landscaping. Two people not moving around, but standing still between two parked cars.

My dad and Courtney’s mom.

Adrian held my hand, firm and secure, and pulled me closer. No one saw us, despite the fact they walked right by us. We were totally invisible to them, interlopers in a time that wasn’t ours.

When we got within earshot of Dad and Courtney’s mom Adrian pulled us to a stop.

“I’ve told Donna the truth, Mitzi,” Dad said, his voice low but certain.

“But Jason,” she complained.

“This,” he whispered, pointed back and forth between the two of them, “was a mistake. A horrible mistake.”

“Don’t say that,” Mitzi said, tears welling in her eyes. “It was special.”

Dad sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “One encounter doesn’t make a relationship. Certainly not a special one.”

“But you were so happy.” The pleading tone of her voice spoke of a desperation that was second nature to her. “We both were.”

Dad shook his head. “No, I wasn’t. And neither were you, if you’re honest with yourself. It was a mistake. One I’m doing my best to put right.”

This was not the man I’d seen in the dream or the visions. This man wouldn’t laugh at my despair. This man wouldn’t purposely jab at my deepest fears.
This
was the father I remembered.

But so much had changed, so much had happened. How could I be sure my hatred and spite hadn’t turned the man I knew into a man who would forever be angry with me?

“She’ll never forgive you,” Mitzi spat, switching from the sad, doe-eyed begging to mean, nasty sniveling. “Not now that she knows you’ve been
elsewhere
.”

“That’s between my wife and me.” Dad stood straight and looked Mitzi right in the eye. “I love my wife. I love my daughter. And I will go to the ends of the earth to make things right with them.”

My throat clogged and tears filled my eyes. He loved me. He loved Mom. How could I ever doubt that? Suddenly I knew. I could choose which version of my dad to remember, to hold on to. I didn’t have to accept that he was the bitter, malevolent person I’d seen in those visions.

And somewhere inside, I know I could make the same choice for myself. I could choose love over bitterness. Life over death.

Dad turned, and without another word, got in his car, and drove away. Leaving Mitzi stunned and speechless in the parking lot.

Before I even had a chance to process what I’d seen, Adrian and I appeared in my living room. I could tell from the clothes my mom was wearing that this was the day I’d dreamed about two nights ago. I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn’t going to witness the moment Dad first admitted everything to Mom.

I didn’t think I could survive that.

Adrian’s arm slipped around my waist, and I leaned into him, welcoming the sweetness of his presence.

“I’m still in shock, Jason,” Mom said, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I just never imagined.”

“I meant what I said,” he replied, his voice laced with tenderness. “No excuses. I’m totally responsible for my actions. And I will work as long and as hard as I have to, to earn your trust again and put our family back together.”

Mom nodded. “I believe you. I do. But I can’t make you any promises. I don’t know when, if, or how I’ll ever be able to move beyond this.”

“I know that, Donna. I’m not asking for promises. I just hope the door’s not shut and locked yet. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I guess I’m selfish enough to ask for it anyway.”

“You’ve done a lot of selfish things lately,” Mom said. “But hoping for a chance to keep our family in tact isn’t one of them.”

“Does that mean you’ll agree to counseling?”

Mom stood and walked over to the fireplace, her eyes fastened on the family photo sitting on the mantle. “We’ve spent a lot of years building this family. This
life
. I’m hurt and angry and betrayed, and my knee-jerk reaction is to tell you it’s over forever. But I can’t do that. There’s too much invested to throw it away without trying.” She took a deep breath and continued. “And despite it all, I still love you.”

“I love you, too,” Dad whispered, standing to walk toward her. He stopped short of touching her, as if he knew she would not accept it. “Always have and always will.”

“When Zoe gets home we’ll talk to her about counseling.” Mom turned and walked toward the kitchen. “I’m sure we’ll start out individually, but eventually she’ll need to be involved. She’s a part of this too.”

“Yes, she is. And I know I’ve really damaged things with her.”

“She’s not going to be receptive toward the idea right now.” Mom pulled a chair and sat down at the table. “But she’ll come around. It will just take a while.”

“As long as it takes,” Dad said, dropping into the chair beside her. “As long as it takes.”

Mom offered him a small smile, not a full-blown grin, but a hint of a pleasant expression that told me she believed him. Something in my heart lifted with that smile, caused the hope inside me to multiply.

Outside the house, I heard a car door that I knew was mine. Looking back once more at my parents, I saw them lock eyes and nod toward one another. Even in the midst of all the heartbreak, they were putting up a united front. For my sake.

Suddenly, I was in an unfamiliar place. A bank, by the looks of the long counter with several cubicle stations and people with their checkbooks in hand.

My dad sat across the desk from a man in a suit and tie.

“You want to close the entire account, Mr. Gray?”

“Yes,” my dad answered. “And I’d like a cashier’s check for the balance.”

“Of course,” the banker replied, opening a folder and reaching for a pen. “Do you mind me asking why you’re closing the account?”

Dad shook his head. “Not at all. I was saving for a fishing trip to Canada with some friends next summer. But another expense has come up, so I’ll just have to postpone the trip.”

I knew about the trip he’d been saving for. He’d been talking about it for an entire year.

The moment seemed to fast-forward before my eyes, until I saw the banker hand my dad a check. The two of them stood, shook hands, and my dad walked out of the bank.

I felt Adrian’s hand tighten on mine just before we jumped to a new place.

I recognized this scene as my dad’s office, him sitting behind his desk. The phone was pressed to his ear, and I could hear his end of the conversation.

“Yes, anonymous,” he said into the receiver. “If you have to, tell her that you re-filed with the insurance company and they reconsidered.”

He waited a moment then said, “Thank you.”

We flashed to a new place before I could blink. Mom sat at our kitchen table, some sort of bill open in front of her. She shook her head in disbelief and picked up her cell phone.

“I need to speak to someone in billing,” she said.

I waited, hoping I would somehow be able to understand what was happening.

“This is Donna Gray,” she began. “I received a statement that I no longer owe money for a biopsy I had in January, along with a refund check for the money I already paid toward the bill. I don’t understand.”

Biopsy? Did my mom have cancer? Fear slammed into me, hard and strong.

Adrian leaned close and whispered, even though I knew Mom wasn’t going to be able to hear us. “Your mom had a biopsy of some skin on her back. Your parents didn’t tell you because they didn’t want you to be afraid. The lesion that was biopsied turned out to be benign. But the insurance didn’t cover much of the cost, and the test was expensive.”

“Is that even possible?” Mom asked, snapping my attention back to her. “For the insurance company to reconsider and decide to pay in full?”

It dawned on me then. Dad had taken his vacation savings and paid the bill for Mom’s biopsy. Stepping closer, I looked for the date on the medical statement.

I felt tears fill my eyes as I realized the report was dated two days after Dad died. He’d done this just before the accident that took his life. And he hadn’t wanted any credit for it.

I turned to Adrian and wrapped my arms around him. Closing my eyes, I held on tight.

And opened my eyes to the lush beauty of the clearing.

I
didn’t sit up right away. The emotions were too fresh, and Adrian’s arms were just too soothing. After a moment, I pushed myself up, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my chin atop them. I should say something. Thank him for showing me. Talk about what I’d seen.
Something.

But I had no idea what to say.

Adrian saved me from babbling. “It’s okay if you need to just be quiet and let it all sink in.”

I nodded, took a deep breath, and told him the one thing I thought I could manage without crying. “I think it helped. No, I know it did.”

Even after his enormous screw-up, my dad was still a hero.

“I’m glad.” He reached for a strand of my hair, winding it around his finger as had become his habit.