The Mayfair Moon (20 page)

I pulled forward some, folding my hands on the table out in front of me. I thought back to the night at The Cove, remembering what that man said about the Mayfair’s travel expeditions.

“You must’ve been everywhere,” I said. “Kind of hard to choose a favorite place among so many, I bet.”

“No,” he said simply. “Without thinking about it, I can say that Maine beats them all.” His smile was warm and unquestionable.

A car pulled into the tiny parking lot then and Isaac turned his attention immediately to it. Oddly, he seemed to be smelling of the air as he inhaled a deep, abrasive breath. He glared out the frost-covered window next to us, watching the car with a curious intensity.

“Someone you know?”

“Yes, and I think we should leave.”

He didn’t wait for me to say anything in response, but stood from the booth seat, slipped on his coat and took me by the hand.

“Who is it?” I said as he walked me to the door.

It seemed he never took his eyes off the parking lot. The car was still running, its headlights shining brightly through the dimly lit lot. I heard the engine rev when Isaac opened the glass doors and we stepped outside.

“Bad company,” Isaac answered, practically dragging me to his car. “Looks like your sister is never going to give up.”

I swung my head around to see into the car, but the windows were tinted too dark and I could see nothing.

Isaac urged me into the passenger’s seat and shut the door behind me.

“Alex is in that car?”

“Don’t get any ideas,” he said. “She’s not your sister anymore.”

Isaac threw the car into gear and we sped away. The car didn’t follow, which surprised me. I kept looking back over the seat and through the frosted window, but all I saw was blackness.

“Why didn’t they follow?”

“No need to,” he said, “They already know where to find you. This is just their way of warning me.”

I didn’t have to ask for Isaac to know that I needed more answers.

“Your sister has an agenda,” he said, “one the Vargas family won’t let her forget.” He looked over at me harshly. “What did she say to you the night at The Cove? I need to know everything.”

I just wished he would keep his eyes on the road. It seemed they were on me a little too much and I wondered how he could continue to drive without swerving once. His harsh stare penetrated me and made me uncomfortable.

Telling Isaac ‘everything’ was out of the question; at least in this particular instance. I couldn’t bring myself to put him or Alex in anymore conflict. Bringing up the part about them threatening my life was a seriously bad idea. There was no telling what he might do.

“Alex just wants me to stop hanging around you and Zia.”

“She said more than that, I know.”

“How do you know?” I said. “Are you calling me a liar?” I
was
a liar, but that was beside the point. I pretended to be slightly offended, but was impressed by his profound ability to read right through me.

“Adria,” he said softening his eyes, “the Vargas family wouldn’t go through so much trouble if it were that simple.” He finally put his eyes on the road for a longer time, though I doubted he really saw it much. “And Viktor wouldn’t get involved if it was just a simple sisterly disagreement.”

“Viktor?”

“He’s their leader...well, their father, the one you saw at The Cove,” Isaac said, “but don’t change the subject.”

“Okay,” I went on, “the only other thing she said was that she wanted me to move out and live with her and those jerks. She threatened me and tried to guilt-trip me, but that was all, I swear.”

I could tell right away that Isaac didn’t believe me, but he didn’t pressure me for anymore answers.

“Oh no!” I said, noticing the time in blue numbers on the dashboard. “Beverlee is gonna freak! It’s so late.” I reached in my coat for my cell phone, but realized I had left it at home, which explained why I had not received a call from Beverlee long ago.

“I’ll take you home now,” said Isaac.

I hated how focused and apprehensive he had become. His interest in me drained by the turn of events and our time together, cut short.

Isaac dropped me off at home and insisted on walking me to the door. “You shouldn’t be out at night by yourself,” he said. It wasn’t necessarily a decent gesture as it was a concerned one.

“I think I can manage the distance between your car and the front porch,” I said, grinning.

He still went along, finding nothing funny about it.

“Remember what I said about calling me if your sister comes here.”

“Yes, I remember.”

Finally, Isaac loosened up some and relaxed the serious expression in his eyes. He reached out and brushed my cheek with his fingertips. “But that doesn’t have to be the only reason you call me,” he said. “You know that too, right?”

I could feel the blush in my cheeks hot like fire.

The front door opened and Uncle Carl and Beverlee stepped out together; light from the living room spilled out onto the porch

Isaac dropped his hand to his side.

“Sorry I’m so late,” I said smiling.

Isaac was very charming and much less intimidated by my Aunt and Uncle than I thought he would be. He reached out to shake Uncle Carl’s hand and he hesitantly accepted. He seemed suspicious of Isaac and against the gesture entirely, but his hand had a customary mind of its own.

Isaac nodded and smiled at Beverlee.

“Damien’s Jeep was having some trouble,” said Isaac, “and they were waiting for me to get back so I could give Adria a ride home.”

Uncle Carl and Beverlee looked over at me simultaneously.

“Yeah, and I forgot my cell, or I would’ve called.”

“You couldn’t call from their house?” said Beverlee.

I hadn’t thought of that, but apparently Isaac had. On the other hand, maybe he was just good at lying—not a good trait, but then again, I guess it is in necessary situations.

“They were broke down about two miles from our house,” Isaac said. “I saw them as I drove past on my way home.”

“Really sorry, Aunt Bev, Uncle Carl. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

They lightened up then and Beverlee urged me inside.

Uncle Carl reached into his wallet and took out a twenty. “Some gas money for bringing her home. We appreciate it.”

Isaac respectfully waved the money away. “No, but thanks,” he said. “It really wasn’t out of my way. I’m heading to pick up one of my sisters not far from here.”

I think that was a lie, too.

“Alright then,” said Uncle Carl.

It was obvious Uncle Carl and Beverlee had their doubts about leaving Isaac and me together alone on the porch, and so that didn’t happen. There was a split second when all four of us stood silent, until Isaac knew it was time for him to leave. He stepped off the porch. “Have a good night, Adria. I’ll tell Zia you wanted her to call you in the morning.”

Our minds were synched almost perfectly already. I never told Isaac that, so I knew it was his way of telling me to call
him
in the morning.

I watched Isaac walk toward his car and I couldn’t resist making a mental note of every step he made, how incredibly beautiful he was even when most of his features were obscured by the night. He glanced back at me once after he opened the door, and he smiled.

I was completely into Isaac Mayfair. Everything just felt right, like it was meant to be. Whatever ‘it’ was.

UP BEFORE TEN IN the morning, I decided that as much as I wanted to call Isaac that I would just let him sleep. At least that was the plan to tell him if later he asked why I waited so long. Really, I just didn’t want to seem so eager.

Beverlee and Uncle Carl left early for work and I was alone in the house. I watched television for a while and then tried reading a new book, but I wasn’t much in the reading mood. I cleaned—seemed to be doing a lot of that lately—swept off the giant front porch and even watered Beverlee’s poor, dehydrated plants.

I eventually did try calling Isaac before noon, but his cell didn’t ring and went straight to voicemail. A sure sign his phone had been turned off. “Hey, it’s me,” I said into the phone. “I know you’re probably still asleep; just wanted to call. Not necessarily the morning anymore, but you can’t say much now can you?” I laughed. “I’m cleaning the house for Aunt Bev, so I’ll talk to you later.”

It was nice having the house to myself, but after a while, I was so bored I was going out of my mind.

I ended up in the barn, sifting through stuff that looked like it had not seen sunlight in fifty years. Nothing of interest. Nothing I could identify much, either. A couple of old rusted bikes lay against the barn wall, a wooden baby bed tossed on a pile of other unknown junk. A desk covered in sawdust, lots of hay, though I wasn’t sure of its purpose since there were no animals to use it. The only thing that looked as though it had been taken care of was the bright red riding lawnmower parked near the front door. I only wished the barn were one of those that had a second floor. I could picture myself hiding up top with a good book and nothing to disturb me. This barn wasn’t as welcoming as those you see in Lifetime movies. There were spider webs everywhere; the air stank of mildew. The roof probably had a year left in it before it started giving away completely, especially in the far corner where it looked close to falling through. I could even hear rats squealing and scurrying around.

When I walked back out of the barn and stepped into the sunlight, I could’ve sworn I saw a figure move past the kitchen window in the house.

Approaching the house with caution, I almost scared myself enough not to go any further. But it was the middle of the day, the sun was high in the sky, birds were singing and I could hear a plane passing by somewhere. Bad things don’t happen to people when the weather is nice; definitely not in broad daylight and when birds are chirping.

It probably wasn’t anything at all, I thought.

I walked up onto the porch, tiptoed to the living room window, and peeked around to look inside.

Nothing.

Ditching the paranoia, I walked right in and went to the kitchen to make a glass of iced tea. As I squeezed a lemon into it, I heard a creaking sound coming from upstairs. I had heard that distinct sound before, but only when Uncle Carl was walking out of his office and into the hallway restroom.

Someone was definitely inside the house and I was too afraid to move. Quietly, I set the glass of tea onto the counter and opened the drawer closest to where I stood. Great. It was the drawer where Beverlee kept her collection of harmless wooden cutlery. The big, sharp knives were on the far side of the kitchen sitting securely in a knife display. I would have to walk around the enormous bar to get to it.

Footsteps came down the stairs. I could see the shadow of a figure accompanying them.

I dashed across the kitchen and reached for the knives, but instead knocked the whole display into the floor and even still the knives did not come out of it.

“Adria,” said Alex, “what are you doing!”

Shocked to see that it was my sister, I didn’t notice that I did manage to get one of the knives into my hand. I clutched it close to me.

“Put down the knife.”

When my heart rate slowed and I could think clearly, I placed the knife beside me on the bar.

“What are you doing here?” I said. “Scared the
crap
out of me!”

Alex was slow to answer, or maybe I was just so scatterbrained that I absently refused to let her get a word in.

“Seriously,” I went on, “what are you doing back here?”

“Am I not welcome?”

Alex opened the refrigerator and began drinking straight out of the orange juice carton.

Only after she finished it off did I answer her.

“Well, after what you’ve put Beverlee and Uncle Carl through, I’m not so sure anymore.”

Suddenly, Alex looked dismayed. She paced the kitchen floor a few times and finally sat down at the bar. I watched her as she played with the ends of her fingertips, head lowered, quiet and clearly poignant. I knew then I had to drop the mad act with her and become her loving sister again. I sat down on the empty stool next to her. “Alex,” I said, “what’s wrong? Look, I was just messing with you; Beverlee and Uncle Carl will let you come back, I know they will.”

Alex sighed heavily and looked over at me.

“That’s good to know,” she said, “and I know I screwed up big-time, but I’ll talk to them.”

“Good,” I said, smiling, “then that’s settled. I’m so glad you’re home.” I went to hug her, but something about her demeanor stopped me and also stripped the happiness from my face.

“That’s not the only reason I came here,” said Alex.

I looked at her probingly.

“I have some bad news and it isn’t about me.”

I waited impatiently, but at the same time I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know.

“Julia's dead.”

I think the world stopped moving for a second, at least my world did. When a person hears news like that, it can play tricks on the mind. What did she say? Did I hear her right? Seriously, is this some cruel joke? Death? I had forgotten all about its existence. No...It can’t be true.