Healer (The Healer Series) (7 page)

“Okay, well I’m out, literally,
” Thomas joked.

“Very funny
, nerd.”

“See you tomorrow night for dinner?”

“The guys will be here, but Lucy and I are going shopping.”

“For new clothes, I assume?”

“Actually, for a prom dress. You know that dance they have for us young’ns in high school?  I think they say it’s like a rite of passage or something.”

“Prom, huh?
Got a hot date?” He crossed his arms.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” I raised my eyes to meet his.

Thomas paused. “Who’s the lucky fellow?” His voice seemed to lose a bit of the mocking tone.

“Wyatt.”

“Pretty boy?” Thomas almost laughed.

“Is that what you call him?” Wyatt was a great looking guy, almost too good looking. Agreeing to go to prom with him had been a hard decision for me because I was afraid he would outshine me. No girl wants that.

“Wyatt, huh? Lila’s cousin.” He nodded with a thoughtful expression. “Are you guys dating?”

“No, I mean, I don’t know. We’re just friends.” I honestly wasn’t sure what we were. I saw him as just a friend.
I thought Thomas looked like he might be getting uncomfortable, but maybe I wanted to read it that way. He continued to stand with his arms crossed, and his expression unreadable. My intention was not to make him jealous, but if he were, I would enjoy it.

“I think he likes you.”

“Really?” I never got that vibe from Wyatt.

“Well,
good for you. Lucky guy to get a date with Aldo Lawson.” He smiled.

“Yes
. well, it was a hard decision. I mean, with all of the suitors after me, picking one was down-right exhausting.” I tried to lighten the mood.

“I bet.”

“We’ll see how it goes.” I paused. “What about you?” I pulled my hair to the side.

“What about me?”

“I mean are you trying to date anyone?”

This question made him uncomfortable. One thing about Thomas I had picked up was he always stuck his hands in his pockets when he was uncomfortable talking about something. I was on pins and needles waiting for his response. I had always wanted to ask him if he was dating or whom he had dated, but I didn’t think it was appropriate.

“I’m waiting for the right one to come along.” Our eyes locked and I wondered if there was a deeper meaning to his words.

“Well, she will be very lucky as well. Just don’t let her
keep you from us. You’re like a brother to us now.” The words hurt as they poured out of my mouth. Actually, I don’t know what hurt worse, saying them or having to look and sound like I meant them. Brother. That was all he would ever be. I loved him with every fiber of my being, but he would never be mine. I told myself maybe somewhere deep within him he wanted me, loved me, but it would never be more than this; my friend and I fishing by a lake, talking about my silly youthful events.

“No, I’ll always be here for you guys.” He smiled softly and walked by me. “Enjoy your s
wim and the shopping tomorrow.”

“Thomas?” I called, as he walked away.
His eyes caught the light of the sun that beamed between the trees for just a moment as he turned back. His eyes creased slightly when he squinted. That look always made me weak in the knees.

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we met.”

“Me too.”
His sad tone didn’t match his smile.

“You’re a good friend.
My best friend.”

“I know, Aldo. I always wi
ll be.” With that, he walked away.

I turned around and closed my eyes, letting the light breeze kiss m
y face. I removed my cotton skirt and tank top, threw my bra and panties on the ground, and then slowly walked to the shore. I stepped one foot into the warm water. My long hair swished against my bare back as I walked deeper into the lake. At waist deep, I ran my fingers along the surface, then I plunged myself under the water. I came up, slicking my hair back with my hands. So relaxing. Like the water carried all of my troubles away and left me floating and weightless.

As I ba
sked in the moment, something cracked, like the sound a stick makes when someone steps on it.  I jerked around to look back at the shore.

Thomas stood
on the shore, staring directly at me with an expression of shock.

Was he really there or
was he my own creation? It had to be my subconscious this time. Thomas would never have intruded.

Our eyes lock
ed, and he stood still as stone as I slowly waded through the water towards him. My heart beat like a drum. My body tingled with emotions and sensations I had never experienced before. If my mind placed him here, which I was certain it had, I would enjoy every minute of it. If this was the only way I would or could ever be with him, then I wanted to dream this every night for the rest of my life.

As I emerged from
the water completely naked, he continued to stare into my eyes. He didn’t move or flinch as I walked up to him and stood about six inches away.

“Look at me,
” I demanded softly.

His dark eyes did not move nor did his body. His eyes remained fixed on mine.

“Thomas, look at me. It’s okay.” I smiled slightly trying to reassure him.

Still he did not budge.

“I’m not a child,” I pleaded, but he still gave no response. “Look at me,” I yelled.

In my desperation, I grabbed his hand and placed it on my chest, just above my naked breast. “Touch me,” I begged again.

He remained still as stone.

“Look at me!” I cried.

His eyes slowly moved down and found his hand. His breathing became heavy, and his chest heaved up and down. He slid his hand down my wet skin, over my breast, to my side. Finally, he looked at my naked body. He closed his eyes, but his hand remained. He bit his lip and the tremble in his hand told me closing his eyes took all of the strength he had. But his will failed him, when it came to removing his hand from my side.

I pushed up on my
toes, grabbed his face gently, and pulled it into mine. My wet, naked body pressed into his, moistening his cotton shirt.

As our lips touched
, current flowed between us. I wasn’t sure what kissing should feel like, but my mind decided it should feel like electric current. We were connected, and it was all I ever wanted.

He
grabbed my face and pressed his into mine. I pressed back, and as I did I tripped forward into empty space.

He had vanished.

I looked around, but there was no sign of him. He was gone, but I could still feel the tingle of his kiss on my lips.

.

eight

Present

The douche bag who was rude to me left, and Rick told the bouncers he wa
s banned from the club. Alina and the other girls split up the remainder of my dances because I was too unglued to dance. Of course, they thought it was because a guy acted like an asshole to me, but it was so much more than that.

Al
ina insisted I come home with her until I felt myself again. I was hesitant to do so, but she insisted, assuring me her husband had a ton of guns and was well trained in using them. Of course, I knew it would take more than guns to stop what I had encountered, but I went because she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

When we got to
Alina’s house, she quickly changed into a flannel pajama top, and brought me a pair of sweat pants and a Richard Petty t-shirt.

As I dress
, she pours me a glass of wine and I chug it without thinking. Just what my underdeveloped palate needs—cheap wine. Her house is small, but very clean and organized. She doesn’t have a lot of décor or fancy furnishings, but it’s way nicer than any house I lived in growing up. We don’t really talk, I think in part because her family is asleep, and maybe she can see I’m lost in thought from the events of the evening.

I stretch
out on her black leather sofa, while she flips through television channels. Eventually, I fall asleep, my subconscious beckoning.

Past

The next day, Lucy and I went shopping and found my dress. It was pink and very pretty. Most girls were trying to find dresses that exuded sexiness, but my Aunt Lucy would’ve put a chastity belt on me had they been available. So needless to say, to avoid a lecture and/or argument, I picked a dress that looked like something a six year old would wear. It was anti-sex. Not that I was planning on having sex with Wyatt.

I thought maybe Thomas would be at our house hanging out with my brothers wh
en we got back, but he wasn’t. They hadn’t heard from him.

I grabbed the cordless phone from the kitchen, went to my room, and shut the d
oor. I placed my dress on the bed beside me and dialed Thomas’s cell phone number. After five rings I got his voice mail. My heart sank to my stomach like a hundred pound brick.

I heard the beep and hesitated.
Should I leave a message?
  “Um, hi.” I paused.

My inner
self cut me a look saying,
smooth, real smooth
.

“I was just seeing what you’re up to. Call me back.” I hung up quickly and flopped back on my bed.
Don’t panic
. He’s probably busy.

I stood up and hung my dress still covered in a Macy’s dress bag in my closet.
Everything will be alright
. I told myself this over and over.

Boy, how wrong was I.

Thomas did not enter my dreams nor did he come to see us for a week. It was the longest week of my life.

My dream haunted me for days. I felt crazy for creating that scene. I lost control
. I called him, but he wouldn’t answer or return my calls. I reasoned with myself that I had created that dream, and Thomas was not there, but then I worried,
what if he was
? The very thing I worried about happening might have actually happened; that I would not be able to tell the real Thomas, from my dream Thomas. Of course, it made sense why he was avoiding me—I threw myself at him.

I cried
every night because I knew I had ruined everything. I had to apologize, so I decided to skip my first period class and go to his house. I would at least apologize and if he didn’t accept it, I would beg him to forget about it, and let things go back to the way they were.

I left the house before Whit and Hudson that
morning, telling them I had to meet Lila for breakfast. Lucy had to believe it, so I had to lie to them. I had never been to Thomas’s house because he had never invited me, but he told me he lived on Lake Ave. and he had mentioned his red door once.  I hoped there would only be one house with a red door, but if there were more, I would look for his truck or go door to door until I found his house.

Yes.
I was that desperate.

I was relieved
to find only one house with a red door on his street. I dressed nice that day, wearing my favorite pink sundress. My hair was down and I wore light makeup, just in case I ended up crying. I stood on his porch for at least two minutes, trying to gain the courage to knock.

S
uddenly, the front door flew open.

I jumped, surprised by the suddenness of the door opening
and nearly fell backwards off of the porch, but managed to catch myself on the hand railing.

A man in his boxer shorts squinted from the sunlight behind me.

“Uh…hi,” I smiled nervously.

He leaned against the door frame
, extending his long lean body. He was very good looking, but looked like he was a bit messy; like one of those guys who pick his clothes up off the floor and puts them on. His hair was shaggy, hanging down to his cheek bones and his face was covered in stubble. I recognized him from the image I saw of him in my dreams. Although different, there was a strong resemblance between him and Thomas.

“Lucas, right?”

“Yeah
.”

“Hi, I’m Aldo.” I paused, but couldn’t tell if he recognized my name.

He
straightened and ran his eyes up and down my body. I couldn’t tell if he was impressed or disgusted.

“
Nice to meet you,” he said slowly.

I felt
awkward as he perused my body once more. “Is Thomas here by any chance?”

“Eh,
let me check. Come on in.” He walked into the house, leaving the door open.

I
entered the house, closing the door behind me. A large couch and sofa chair that didn’t match swallowed most of the space in the small living room. Car and porno magazines lay on the coffee table, surrounded by empty beer cans. It was definitely a bachelor pad. The living room and kitchen were divided by a counter that was covered with pizza boxes and more beer cans. I remained by the front door, not sure what I should do because Lucas vanished down the hall as soon as we stepped foot inside.

Lucas
staggered back down the hall, like a person with a hangover, pulling a t-shirt over his head. “He must have run out.” He scratched his shaggy head of hair. “You can wait if you want.”

“Are you sure?
I’ll just wait a few minutes if that’s okay.” I finished, not giving him a chance to answer.

“Yeah
, have a seat.” He motioned to a sofa chair behind me.

H
e sat on the sofa diagonal to me and picked up a bong hidden behind the coffee table and grabbed a blue lighter off of the table. He pressed the rim to his mouth, then looked up at me. “I’m sorry, I’m so rude.” He held out the bong and the lighter to me. “You want a hit?” he asked, as if he were offering me tea.

“Oh, no thank you.
” I shook my head.

He shrugged and pressed the bong back to his mouth.

“Lucas, Thomas has told me so much about you.” I lied. He really never talked about Lucas. He had only mentioned he was a loner, but no real details.

“Oh yeah?”
Lucas smiled through squinted, blood-shot eyes. “That’s cool.” He nodded.

“So what do you do?”

“Thomas didn’t tell you about our business?” He smirked and coughed as smoke billowed out his mouth and nostrils.

“You have a business?”
Why hadn’t Thomas told me that?

“We’re procurers
, you might say.”

“Does that mean you find something?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what we do.” He placed the bong and lighter on the coffee table in front of him and leaned back.

“W
hat exactly do you find?” 

“Rare things
, more or less.”

Vague much?
“Like antiques?” I tried to seem interested, but I couldn’t help but wonder if Thomas would return.

“Yeah.”
He snorted, as if I said something funny, but it didn’t give me much cause to think about it, as I realized maybe it was a side effect of the pot he was smoking.

“What kind of antiques?”

“The rarest. Ones that can make a man very wealthy.”

I
wasn’t sure what he was talking about or if he even knew himself. We continued to make painful small talk, at least for me, because he was high as a kite, for about ten minutes and Thomas still had not returned.

I sto
od up and walked behind the sofa chair where I had been seated. “I’m going to go. I don’t want to hold you up. Can I leave a note for Thomas?”

“Oh yeah
, his room is down the hall to the right.” Lucas lay back on the sofa and closed his eyes. I hadn’t intended to leave the note in his room, but I figured why not.

I walked down the hall
, past the eighties blue tiled bathroom, and what I assumed was Lucas’s room with the black light posters of weed and Bob Marley on the wall. When I got to Thomas’s room, I entered cautiously. It wasn’t a complete disaster, but some clothes lay on the floor, and his bed wasn’t made. The girl in me wanted to look at and touch everything, but the mature side felt wrong being there.

I scanned the top of his dresser
, being nosey, and found nothing but loose change. I saw his night stand and decided that would be the best place to leave the letter I wrote just in case he wouldn’t see me. I sat on his bed and leaned down to smell his pillow. God he smelled good. I sat up and noticed his night stand drawer was ajar. The girl in me couldn’t resist opening it a little more, so I could see what was in it. A picture of me and my brothers with Thomas, the day he gave us Fred, our dog lay on top.

“Hey.”

I jumped.

Thomas
stood in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee. He wore a navy long john shirt and jeans. Even in bummy clothes, he still looked amazing.

I quickly lay my letter on his night stand and tried to look as if that’s what I was doing. “Hi.” I laughed nervously. “I came to see you, but you weren’t here, so I was going to leave you this letter.” I stopped and shook my head, embarrassed I was babbling. He didn’t respond. “Yeah, uh, sorry I’m in your room.”

“It’s okay. What’s up?” He heaved
a heavy sigh, as if annoyed with my presence.

“Well, you haven’t come over or returned any of my calls.” I
stepped a little closer to him. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Well, if you aren’t mad at me, why are you avoiding me?”

“You shouldn’t have c
ome here,” he stated coldly.

T
he sting of his words caused my eyes to tear up. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I haven’t been able to get in touch with you.”

“
I’ve been really busy.” He sipped his coffee from the Styrofoam cup. His eyes darted in every direction, but mine. What had caused his demeanor towards me to change so completely? He was shut off to me.

“Okay. W
ell, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?” I tried to move things along and break the awkwardness.

He inhaled deeply.
“I can’t, Aldo. I got some stuff going on.”

“What stuff?” I
tried to seem interested, like a friend would.

“Stuff,” h
e barked back.

My face must have revealed the hurt I was trying desperatel
y to hide because Thomas’s mouth pressed in to a hard line and he looked away from me.

“Is it business stuff?” I pressed.

“Business stuff?” h
e questioned.

“Yeah, Lucas was telling me you guys are procurers or something.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, that’s not it.” I waited for him to offer what it actually was, but he didn’t.

“So
, what is it?”

“
I’m seeing someone.” He lowered his voice in an almost apologetic way.

“Oh.”
The world crashed down around me as my body was sucked into a never ending pit of despair. But it vanished after a moment, and I realized I was still standing in Thomas’s bedroom, not breathing. “Oh, I see.” I managed a deep breath and smiled through the hurt. “Good for you.” No matter what, I would keep smiling, and I would not let my emotions get the better of me.

“Y
eah, tell Lucy and your brothers I’ll be by soon, for a visit.” He made room for me to pass by him through the doorway.

My heart nose-dived
to my stomach. Why was he acting so cold to me? “Okay, I will.” I replied softly. I sidled past him and our chests touched briefly.