Flutter (14 page)

I concentrated on steadying my breathing. In. Out.

When I glanced back toward the diner window, Mr. McGarry was gone. Ash was inside again, walking toward the counter, giving me an icy stare.

“Thanks,” I said as he approached.

I expected him to sit down by me at the counter, but he just slowed his gait a moment. “I … um.” He didn’t finish. He looked at me hard, turned on his heel.

He walked to the other end of the diner, with me gaping after him. He sat down in the corner booth all alone. He unfolded his menu with a dark look on his face.

I stared at him for a moment, incredulously, then rolled my eyes. I drank the rest of my hot chocolate, squinting at Ash and trying to think of something to say to him, some cutting remark. He was so infuriating. I was so over this. This ridiculous seesaw, this crazy dance between us.

I paid the bill and left, making sure not to look over at Ash. It wasn’t until I was halfway back to the cabin that I thought of a good comeback. And even then, it wasn’t that good, but it made me laugh. I figured there might be another time I could use it: “Want to go bowling?”

Although I told myself I was simply trying to gather information, to figure out why my boy had shown me Ash’s drawing in the stream, I changed my outfit approximately forty-three times before I left for the Wingings’ that night. I settled on jeans and a pink turtleneck sweater, my hair piled up on my head. I rolled my eyes at myself in the mirror even as I swiped on some lip gloss.

I noticed quickly that I looked better. I looked substantial, whole, less transparent. I hadn’t looped in a couple of days, not counting the near miss at the diner, and I didn’t look as ragged.

As relieved as I was not to loop, I
wanted
to loop too. For my boy. To get some more clues. I was worried about him. The past few days had given me next to nothing to record
in my notebook, nothing new to help solve my mystery, but I was hoping tonight might change that.

Jeannette let me in her front door with a quick kiss on the cheek and a boisterous hello. I looked around the foyer and wiped my boots on the mat, noticing the bench I had sat on the other night, the night of the bloody nose. And I noticed now the details of the place. The gingham wallpaper, a framed American flag hanging alongside many, many framed photos of the Wingings, their children, all candids. Lily skiing, Jimmy wearing a red clown nose and kissing Jeannette, the boys with matching soccer uniforms.

Looking at these photos, I realized how much I already liked this family. How welcoming they were, how normal and … happy.

The Winging kitchen was alive with chatter and movement, life. It was a cheery yellow-and-white deal with a white farmhouse table, complete with a long bench on each side. The aroma of the kitchen was like nothing I had ever smelled before; my mouth watered, and I was instantly ravenous. The Wingings’ daughter Lily, whom I had met already, was setting the table, smiling at me. Cody and his look-alike brother were busy sweeping up some kind of mess that must have occurred moments before I came in. Dog food? No, it looked like cereal. They were sweeping up cereal.

The boys looked up at me saucer-eyed when I came in. Jeannette hustled me to a place at the table with her chirp-chirp, happy-voiced small talk, and Jimmy gave me
a welcoming smile as he poured milk in each of the boys’ glasses.

I sat down on one of the benches, and Lily instantly sidled up to me. I thought of my own mom and dad, and a knot formed in my stomach. I averted my eyes, unsure how to take part in this family’s day-to-day happiness.

“Ash bought me a bike,” Lily said.

“Ash taught me how to shoot a slingshot,” said Cody, taking a seat across from me with his brother.

“I know how to do a cartwheel one-handed,” said the other boy.

I didn’t know who to answer first. So I just smiled at each of the kids, but they didn’t seem to care. “What’s your name?” I asked Cody’s brother.

“I’m four,” Cody continued.

“Dad says I can get my own fishing pole when I’m seven,” said the other boy.

“He’s Garrett,” Lily answered me. And the boys kept talking.

“Ash says he can make me a fishing pole,” Cody countered.

“I have my own slingshot,” Garrett offered.

Jeannette brought a bowl of salad and some homemade bread to the table. “Let me help,” I offered, getting up from the bench.

“No, no,” said Jeannette. “You are our guest.”

At that moment, the screen door in the back of the kitchen opened, and Ash appeared. He looked as if he had
just come from washing up, his hands and face scrubbed clean, hair smoothed back.

“Ma’am,” he said to Jeannette, and hung his cowboy hat on a hook. He had obviously been here before for many meals, although Lord knows where they thought he spent his nights.

He turned toward the table, and the boys were out of their seats in an instant, jumping on him, hanging on him, giving him five. I held my breath. Ash’s eyes caught mine, and he faltered, just for the briefest of moments. But I caught it. “Hello,” he said.

“Hi,” I answered.

“Sit by me,” Lily piped up.

“Sure, Lil,” he said, picking up a boy in each arm and plopping them in their seats before he took his own.

Ash’s jaw clenched hard on the sides as he passed me to sit down next to Lily. I smelled that soap-fresh scent, the same scent from my pillows at the cabin, and my stomach jumped toward my throat.
I’m here on business, nothing more
, I told myself.

Jeannette came to the table, sat down, and passed around a pan of lasagna. Everyone simultaneously started serving themselves, and I found myself in an unfamiliar clatter of silverware and happy chitchat. Ash reached out and stole the boys’ Brussels sprouts from their plates and popped them in his mouth, and the boys grinned ear to ear, giving him the “shh” sign.

I reached for a piece of bread the same time that Ash did,
and our hands touched for an instant, our eyes met. There it was, that tether. He gave me a dark look.

“Emery, do you have a guinea pig?” Lily asked.

“No.” I shook my head.

“We want Dad to let us get three guinea pigs,” Cody explained. “One for each of us.”

“I always wanted a cat,” I told them. “But my parents never let me.”

“I could use a lizard too,” Garrett piped up.

“So, Emery,” Jimmy began, “what brought you to our neck of the woods?”

“Well, I’m just working on something for school—college. I needed a quiet space.” My cover story was thin. I hoped I wouldn’t have to make up too many details. I didn’t like to lie, didn’t want to lie, but I had become sort of accustomed to it over the years.

“And how are you liking Dala Cabin?”

“It has its charms,” I said, and smiled.

“Aren’t you a little lonely out there?” Jimmy asked.
So he doesn’t know about Ash’s sleeping arrangements
.

“You would think,” I answered, shooting Ash a look. “But actually, no.”

“And where are you from?” Lily asked. “Mom guessed Chicago. I guessed Hawaii.”

Jeannette shushed her, turning a bright pink. “You’ll have to forgive us. We get so few travelers this time of year. We ladies at Betsy’s can’t help ourselves.”

“Ann Arbor,” I answered. “The university, you know.” This lie was at least partially true.

“Yes, a college student,” Jimmy said through a mouthful of lasagna.

“Ash is in college,” Lily said.

I sat up straighter. “Yeah? Where?”

“Was. University of Illinois,” he answered, avoiding my eyes.

I saw this as my opening. “What did you study?”

“Veterinary med.”

Jimmy Winging cleared his throat then. “He saved a gelding last week. He found an infection in its hindquarter. Really something.” Jimmy nodded over to Ash.

I saw the color rise to Ash’s cheeks. He stared at his plate. He didn’t like this attention. But I had to find out more.

“Why’d you leave school?” I asked.

A silence fell over the table.

“Ash bought me the bike,” Lily whispered, “but I’m not supposed to know it was him. I’m not supposed to say.”

I smiled.

“Then stop telling all of creation about it, Lily!” Jimmy interrupted. “You’re making Ash uncomfortable.”

I stole a look at Ash. He had patches of scarlet on his cheekbones, and his jaw worked hard on his French bread. His eyes looked nowhere in particular.

“So, what brought you here, Ash?” I asked, knowing I
was skating on thin ice, knowing I shouldn’t, but knowing I had to.

I saw Jeannette and Jimmy exchange a glance.

“Could you pass the milk, Garrett?” Ash asked, ignoring my question.

I couldn’t give up, though. I couldn’t. “Do any of you know about a farm called Next Hill?”

With that, Ash spilled the decanter of milk all over the table. He stood up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said, wiping up the milk with his napkin. I could see he looked stricken, his eyes wide, surprised. And my heart broke into a zillion pieces. Because this question had hurt him somehow, and I wasn’t prepared for how bad it felt to hurt him.

“Excuse me,” he said, breathless, giving me a hard look and heading for the door, grabbing his coat. The soft clank of the screen door filled the silence behind him.

Jeannette was mopping up the milk now, Jimmy and the rest of the table staring after Ash.

“I’m sorry. Did I say something …?”

“I don’t know,” Jimmy answered.

“I don’t know either,” Jeannette answered.

“Excuse me,” I said, getting up. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to come here and make a scene. I just …” I threw on my coat and followed Ash out the screen door.

My legs shook, my knees knocking, as I chased Ash down the porch steps. He was taking long strides, walking past the
creek, toward the path that led to Dala Cabin. I could see the anger in each step he took. He stopped abruptly, turned toward me.

“Who are you? How do you know about me?”

“I don’t. I don’t know about you.” His brow was dark. I shrank away from him a bit, too aware of his size.

He opened his mouth like he was about to accuse me, about to really lay into me. There was that crazed look in his eye, the same one I had seen at the diner. But Ash shook his head, pushed it away. His face softened. “You look scared. I don’t want to be someone that scares. I’m not a monster,” he said, looking at the ground.

I bit my lip for a moment. “I’m not scared,” I said, trying to sound convincing.

I watched him hold back his anger at me. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t really explain it all,” I told him.
Not without giving away all my secrets, not without sounding semi-loony
. “But just like with your drawing of me … what you think I know … I don’t.”

We stood looking at each other for a long time in the moonlight, near the path to Dala Cabin. The evergreens were sagging and weighted down, thick with heavy, wet snow from the earlier flurries. The moonlight glistened and glowed off the frozen surface of the evergreens. It twinkled, really.

Ash reached out slowly and touched my cheek only for
an instant with the pad of his thumb. Then he moved his hand away from me abruptly.

“Emery,” he said.

I took a sharp intake of air.
Business
, I tried to tell myself.

“I can’t.…” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to turn you down for dinner … the other day.… I just can’t.”

I nodded, wanting him to go on, wanting him to touch me again. His touch was electric on my skin.

“I’m not …” He took a step back from me. “I’m not someone you can know, not …”

“I understand,” I said, although I didn’t.

He took another step back from me. I moved forward without thinking, feeling pulled toward him, closing the space between us. His eyes met mine, and the breath caught in my throat, every molecule in my body feeling pulled toward him, leaning me into his space, into his energy. It was a heady feeling, disorienting.

Although I barely knew him, I didn’t know if I could pretend even one more second that this thing between us—whatever it was—wasn’t wonderful.

“I have to go,” he said, only leaning in closer to me, our faces inches apart. I could feel the warmth from his breath.

“No,” I whispered. “Where are you going?”

He shook his head then, looked down, saying something under his breath. I couldn’t be too sure what it was, but it sounded like “Penance.” But suddenly, watching him, with his eyes cast down, his lashes shadowing his cheekbones,
the way he held himself, both leaning toward me but also restraining himself, filling the space between us with his heady, soapy scent, I just couldn’t take it anymore.

So when he looked up, I closed the small distance between us. I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his. In my hurry, I missed a little bit, landing my lips more on the corner of his mouth, and for a second he didn’t react, but then he turned his face toward me, pressing his lips against mine, a full kiss, a real kiss. And the fireworks exploded deep inside me, sending ribbons of heat from my center out to my limbs, a gorgeous, surprising feeling, like a warm breeze beneath my skin.

Both his hands went to my face, gently. And just when I thought he was going to pull away, he leaned into the kiss, longer, deeper. The heat inside me surged again. I smiled behind the kiss without meaning to, and I brushed my fingertips on his stubble, loving its feel.

He pulled away, and we just looked at each other. Should I apologize? Make a joke? Do it again?

“Emery,” he said, my name turning to music in his voice, the quiet deepness of it. He closed his eyes for a moment, shook his head, smiled. I wanted to kiss him again. Right on that crooked eyetooth. But when he opened his eyes, his smile disappeared, and he was himself now. Measured. Cool. “Emery,” he said again. A goodbye.

Then he turned on his heel and left.

I spent the next morning trying not to waste the whole day replaying that kiss. His hands cupped around my face. His lips on mine. The way his voice had changed the sound of my name.

I made myself focus, which was no easy task. I forced myself to read through my notes on my loops, planning exactly what I needed to ask Ash, how I could ask him about Next Hill without giving away all my secrets. I had to figure out what he might know that could help me. I knew that my little boy must be from a time roughly a hundred years ago; the Victrola, the old farm equipment, all pointed to this. What Ash might know about this, I had no idea. He was guarded. It would be difficult.