Breathe into Me (16 page)

“Lacey, you all right? What happened?”

“I was kicked out of my grandmother’s house.” There was so much more than that—my suspicions about my brother, my mother’s betrayal, the fact that Macon now knew my number—but I couldn’t say any more.

“Where are you?”

Some small part of my brain was amazed I’d give him, who I’d only known a short while, that information while not Macon, but I shoved that aside and gave him my location. “Stay there, I’ll be there in five minutes.

The phone immediately went dead, but his words managed to give me one last push into resuming my normal breathing. I made my breaths slow and long, the constriction gradually easing from around my lungs, until I saw that ratty little hatchback pull up beside me. I got out of my truck and met him halfway.

“You okay?”

I nodded. “I had an asthma attack.” It was my second in almost as many weeks. Maybe it was time to get a refill on my old asthma inhaler medication.

“Come on, I’ll drive.”

It wasn’t my normal habit to follow orders, but I got into his passenger seat meekly and put on my seat belt. The ride was quiet, as though Everett knew I needed space to think. I wouldn’t have been able to talk about it right then anyway, and I appreciated the silence. Even thinking about it made me want to start crying, and I knew if I started, I wouldn’t stop.

There were several cars parked out front of the mansion, as if for a party. Everett bypassed them all, heading around back toward the multi-story guesthouse. He shut off the car and got out first, moving quickly around the front to open my door. The gesture was gallant, which a part of me appreciated, but all I could do was exit the vehicle silently.

He unlocked the doors to the guesthouse and let me inside, turning on lights as he came in behind me. I saw immediately that someone had cleaned up the place; the sheets were off the furniture, and there wasn’t any dust to be found. “How did you know I was coming?” I asked, my attempt at humor falling flat.

“If I’d known you would be staying, I might have done more.”

“Staying?”

Not answering me, Everett moved on ahead of me toward the stairs. “Come on, let me show you the upstairs.”

There were three levels, each with numerous bedrooms like a hotel. It reminded me of servants’ quarters, although it didn’t look like it’d been used in years. The décor in the upper levels, while simple, was dated; some of the curtains and bedspreads looked threadbare, as if they’d been sitting for many years. They were, however, dust-free, as if an army of maids had gone through and cleaned it all out.

“The refrigerator downstairs has nothing but beer in it right now. We can move some food over from the house or you can come there in the mornings to eat.”

“Everett, really, you don’t need to …”

He shook his head. “There’s something else I’d like to show you.”

I followed him downstairs again until he stopped by the piano. A small smile tipped one corner of his mouth. “Try it again.”

The keys were clean, the dust gone from the shiny black surface of the cover. I gave him a look, then lowered myself into the bench, brushing my fingers along the keys before pressing down a three-chord note. Gone was the discordant harmony from before; the sounds that emanated from the strings were crisp and clear. “You had it tuned,” I said, a small smile forming on my lips.

“I told you I wanted to hear you play.”

I looked up to see those blue eyes staring down at me. A lock of dark hair fell across his forehead, but Everett didn’t seem to mind. He leaned a hip against the side of the piano, cocking his head to the side. Swallowing, I turned my attention back to the keys, performing a quick scale. The notes rang perfect through the room. “What do you want to hear?”

“Surprise me.”

The request made me pause. I had a number of songs in my repertoire, most of which I hadn’t played in years. One simple song, however—among the first I’d learned—rose to the surface, and I began the refrain for Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Memory.” The notes echoed through the room as my fingers danced across the keys. I knew this one, it was one I had often used as practiced, and hearing the somber tones took me back to simpler times.

“That’s from
Cats
, right?”

I nodded and continued playing the melancholy notes. The tension I’d been carrying finally eased, the soft familiarity of the song washing it away. When I came to the end of the song it was like saying good-bye to an old friend. “Did you ever get to see a Broadway play?” I asked, closing the cover of the piano.

Everett shook his head. “My parents went to several, but it wasn’t really my thing.”

“What did you like to do?”

“Lacrosse, rowing, debate. Don’t laugh, but I was even in the chess club for my freshman year.”

“You weren’t in band, then?”

He shook his head. “I just like hearing you play.”

His confession made my heart do little flip-flops. We stared at one another for a long moment before I looked back at the keys. “I should probably be going.”

“You’re welcome to stay here. We’ve got more than enough room for you.”

The thought of imposing made me shake my head. “What would the owners say having some unknown girl move into their guesthouse?”

“You have too much pride. Learn to take some help when it’s offered.”

“Everett …”

“Do you have any other options?”

His blunt question stopped me in my tracks. Truth be told, I didn’t. The only other thing I could do was to sleep in my car, or see if my Uncle Jake would take me. He was my grandmother’s friend, however, which meant he would probably let her know my location. Right then, I needed to stay as far from that as I could.

“It would only be for a short while, until you get back on your feet. I doubt they’d mind all that much as long as you didn’t overstay your welcome.”

I looked around the downstairs area again. The furniture, despite being older, was definitely richer than anything I’d ever lived with. Even the piano, while not as fine as the one in the country club, was better than most I’d played. I felt like an intruder inside a place like this, but Everett was right. I had no other options.

“Fine, but only temporarily,” I said finally. “I’ll sleep on the couch just to make sure I don’t get comfortable.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Are you having a party? I saw a lot of cars out front.”

“Trent invited all the guys from work over to watch a game. The family here has a huge TV. There’s pizza and beer, if you’re interested.” The thought of greasy pizza made my stomach twist, and I shook my head. “Well, do you want to do that one last round of studying?” he asked as I stood and moved across the room to sit on one of the couches.

“I can’t. Not tonight.”

“But tomorrow is …”

“I know, but I … can’t.” I leaned my head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “My books are all still at the trailer and I just …”

“I get it,” he said gently. “What I don’t understand is why your family is being so hateful.”

He nodded, and then looked at me thoughtfully. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

My face felt pinched as I nodded. “You know what I told you before,” I said, my voice thick, “about my real dad being a not-so-nice guy? Well, he was killed just before I was born.” I took an uneven breath. “My grandmother shot him.”

He went still at my words. Some inner part of me started screaming,
Why are you telling him this?
Because I needed to see if he’d run. I needed him to see how messed up I was, just to see what he’d do. I also knew, conversely, that if he disappeared from my life, it would break something inside of me, steal that last ounce of hope I held on to. But I had to know, before my heart got any more involved.

“What happened?”

I swallowed at his words. “My mom tried to leave him, and headed over to my grandmother’s house. He followed and came after her with a knife. My grandmother had an old twelve-gauge shotgun and got him when he broke into the house.”

“And your mom?”

“As soon as I was born, she packed everything into her car and drove across the country, looking for a fresh start. Then she met my stepdad, and the rest is history.”

Silence greeted my words, and I shut my eyes tight. I couldn’t look at him, too scared of what I might see in his eyes.

“So your grandmother blames you for his mistakes.”

Bingo
. It was the first time I’d ever told anyone else that story, and somehow saying it aloud made it worse. Tears welled up again and I angrily dashed at them with the back of my hand. The couch dipped as Everett sat down beside me. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked softly, reaching up a hand to cup the side of my head.

I didn’t look at him, but the contact made me want to weep more. Scooting sideways a bit, I laid on the couch and rested my head on his thick thigh. There was a moment of silence, and then his hand began stroking my hair. Closing my eyes, I shut out everything in my mind and focused only on his hand stroking my hair and the rumble of the fan above our heads.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

“Sure you can. You’ll be incredible.”

I wished I had even a tiny amount of his confidence. A sandwich-board sign was on the curb with
GED
in big letters, and an arrow pointing toward a nearby building. The test was being held at the local middle school, and I could already see several people going inside the assigned building. “Maybe I should postpone this for a little bit.”

“You’re not going to postpone anything.” Everett got out of his tiny hatchback and circled around to my side, opening my door. “I know this isn’t the best timing,” he said, “but we’ve been practicing for this for weeks. You’ll be just fine.”

His sincerity was touching, but I wasn’t so sure about it myself. When I still wouldn’t move to get out of his car, Everett sighed and squatted down on his heels. “You’ll be fine,” he repeated softly, and I finally turned my head to look at him. He had that lopsided smile on his face that made my heart be faster, and he reached out and took my hand. “All you have to do is pass, and I know you can do better than that.”

Watching as more people filed inside, I swallowed and then unfastened my seat belt. The morning skies were overcast and the wind was blowing, bringing an unseasonal chill to the summer air. The weather perfectly matched my mood, but I followed Everett inside quietly, looking around. Most of the people there were older than me, although a couple of kids still obviously in high school dotted the area, accompanied by their parents.

I signed in and sat down, playing nervously with my thumb. Everett sat quietly beside me, not saying anything but lending support. I leaned into his shoulder, grateful he was there. If it had been me by myself, there was a very good chance I would have left the test for another day. I wouldn’t admit it, but I appreciated his tenacity in getting me here this morning.

“If I can have your attention, everyone.” The larger woman who had been helping with sign-in was speaking. “We’re ready to administer the test. If those of you taking it would please follow me.”

“Showtime,” Everett murmured, and I took a deep breath before standing up. Everett’s hand stayed in mine briefly as I stepped away, alone. I looked back to him as he gave a small wave, and then followed the crowd into the testing area.

* * *

“I totally failed it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do, because that’s how my luck has been lately. It would be a miracle if I passed it.”

I wasn’t sure why I was going out tonight of all nights, but here I was in the Bronco all dressed up, with Clare sitting beside me. The overcast skies from earlier had turned into a full-blown storm. Trees whipped above me in the wind as I parked outside Calamity Jane, rain pelting down on the truck. The parking lot was almost empty compared to normal, but a little rain wasn’t going to deter most folks on a Saturday night. It was still early, so more people would come as the night went on.

Despite the fact Everett had driven me to the testing area this morning, I hadn’t actually seen him for most of the day. He’d run errands, so I decided to get in some piano practice and almost lost track of time. My fingertips were tender, no longer used to the hard keys like before, but the feeling was glorious.

I could remember a time when I’d disliked the mandatory practice times, but it had been difficult to stop myself tonight. The stress I’d been carrying from the test melted away within five minutes of playing some Beethoven. Visiting the various songs I’d learned to play in happier times was no longer a chore, but a delight. Even learning the new material that Andrew had given me was fun, and I hoped that feeling wouldn’t go away anytime soon.

“Look,” Clare said as we slid out of the truck, “try to stay positive. If you passed, yay, crack open the champagne bottle, etc. If not, you do it again. Simple as that.”

“You sound like Everett,” I said, scanning the parking lot, but the only familiar vehicle I saw was the band’s van. I hurried inside, eager to get out of the rain. Despite what appeared to be an emptier parking lot, the interior of the smaller bar was packed. The band was already set up in the back corner but prerecorded music blared from speakers set up along the walls. The room was divided into three different areas: the bar and tables, the dance floor, and what was the main attraction for the coastal club.

I’d never ridden the mechanical bull, but the feature was one of the highlights to the club. Right now people were gathered around cheering for the lone cowboy who was hanging on for dear life to the shuddering contraption. Laughter and good-natured jeers spilled from the area as he was ejected from the bucking device, but his replacement was ready to take her place. Whereas the cowboy had been violently jerked around right from the get-go, the lady was moving much slower with smaller lurches. Her breasts bounced underneath the white tank top, much to the amusement and cheers of the men around her.

The whole display made me roll my eyes.

Across the room, I saw Trent seated next to two of his coworkers, but I didn’t see Everett himself. I wasn’t ready to go over there just yet since I didn’t know them all that well, so I hit the bar.