I Hope You Find Me (27 page)

I smiled again, and turned back towards the
mirror. “So, why did you ask?”

“Cuz you have that way of looking at people
like mom’s do.”

I laughed. “Well, that’s better than saying
you thought I
looked
like a mom.”

She smiled again, and absentmindedly traced
the scar on her face with a finger. When she caught me watching,
she quickly took her hand away and tucked her chin in between her
knees.

I got up and sat down on the bed next to her
while she looked at her feet nervously. “Kris, I know you just met
me, and this has all been hard. On all of us.” I paused, choosing
my next words carefully. “But, if you ever want to talk, I’m here.
Okay?” I put my hand gently on her shoulder and she looked up at me
quickly and nodded. “Are you okay, I mean...is everything okay?” I
asked her, while I looked at her scars.

“I’ll be fine.” She smiled weakly. I nodded
and stood up and she said almost under her breath, “But
thanks.”

Not knowing what else to say, I leaned down
and hugged her tight before returning to the vanity. I ran my
fingers along the edge of the folded picture of the kids that I had
tucked up against the base of the mirror, where only someone
looking for it would see it. I didn’t want to share it, not
yet.

When I was finished getting ready, Kris
followed me downstairs and we gathered up our coats. I had slipped
a thin sweater over my tank, and ran my fingers through the waves
in my hair.

“You ready?” I asked Kris. She nodded that
she was, and we let Zoey run out the door first. I had her leash
tucked into the pocket of my coat, in case we needed it, and as we
walked up the trail I glanced casually at Fin and Connor’s cabin,
but the door was still closed, and unlike earlier in the day, it
was quiet.

As our feet made indents in the dirt and
crunched softly on the twigs and leaves, Kris suddenly stopped and
grabbed at my arm. Zoey turned to face the woods, her ears forward,
and her back rigid.

“Look.” Kris said, just barely above a
whisper.

I squinted into the tree line and didn’t see
anything out of the ordinary, until one of the trees appeared to
move. As I stared harder, a light brown flick of color moved behind
another tree and stopped. We took several steps up the trail until
we could see the area from a different angle. Standing not more
than thirty feet away was a young deer. It was watching us, her
large brown eyes open wide and alert, but she didn’t appear to be
afraid. She flicked her ears several times, and then bent down to
forage from the forest floor. Even though the deer we had seen
before had been further away, I was sure the one off the trail was
the same one.

I smiled as Kris stared at it with
fascination. “She’s our resident deer. Young, but obviously
healthy. This is the closest I’ve seen her.” I said quietly to
Kris.

She whispered back, “I’ve never seen one up
close like this before.”

We stood on the trail for almost ten minutes
until the sound of music floated through the trees from the lodge.
The deer flicked her ears forward, and looked at us before dodging
into the dense woods. The graceful spring in her step was delicate
and deliberate.

“Come on, let’s go.” I nudged Kris’s arm but
she didn’t move. She kept her eyes on the trees. “Don’t worry,
she’ll be back.” I said with a smile.

I slapped my leg and Zoey rushed up to me,
and passed us, where she paused at the fork in the trail and barked
impatiently. Kris ran ahead and chased the dog around the bend. I
laughed softly at the happy smile that filled her face as the dog
dashed playfully away from her and bounced around the awkward
teen’s feet.

As the lawn area opened up, the steady beat
of the music drifted down to me. The sounds of Lenny Kravitz
spilled through the grass, circled the trees and danced along the
soft breeze. I walked up the graveled part of the trail and
followed it along to the Rec room pathway. The large bungalow style
building was tucked tightly up against the tree line on its north
side, and elevated up high enough to see the mountains behind the
lake. It was the perfect viewing spot for sunsets.

I took the six steps up two at a time, and as
I reached the landing,
It Ain’t Over Till It’s Over
faded
out and Katy Perry’s,
E.T
. boomed through the speakers. The
beat thudded in my chest and I all but danced into the pavilion. As
I passed through the doorway, an arm grabbed me from behind and
spun me in a circle. Jacks grinned as he pulled me into him and
danced me around the room. He lifted my arms around his neck and
swung his hips in sync with mine and trailed a finger along my
collar bone when I leaned my head back and laughed. He spun me away
from him, and pulled me back in an exaggerated fashion, mouthing
the words to the song. It was obvious he had showered - his thick
hair was smoothed down, but was making a valiant effort to curl on
the ends regardless of the hair product he had slicked it down
with. And he smelled lovely…his familiar Cedar smell was replaced
with something fresh...I was sure it was an Ocean smell of some
sort. When the song ended, he dipped me over his leg and I heard
the sounds of hollering from the far side of the room where Skip
and Winchester stood with Alan. I let go of Jacks, my cheeks
flushed warm from activity and ran my hands down my jeans
nervously. As Train’s,
Hey Soul Sister
started, I grabbed
Jacks’ hand and did my best curtsy at our small but enthusiastic
crowd.

We laughed our way across the room, and
Winchester turned the music volume down so we didn’t have to yell
at each other to be heard.

“I plugged my iPod in...hope you don’t mind?”
Jacks asked, slightly out of breath.

I smiled up at him and laughed. “That
explains the playlist.”

“It’s on shuffle, so don’t hold me
responsible for what comes on next.” He said and casually put an
arm around my shoulders, squeezing me gently.

Alan, still in his grungy arrival clothes,
and Skip moved around the room, pushing open the large windows and
raising the canvas curtains up to let in the late afternoon light
and fresh breeze. The fireplace had been started and the sofas were
turned sideways, slightly facing each other, so anyone sitting in
them could not only enjoy the fire, but also the view of the rest
of the room.

Skip came up to me with a basket of canned
foods. “So, this is what I scrounged up from the kitchen. We’ve got
peas, green beans and carrots. Rice, pasta, tomato sauce...what
sounds good to you?”

I clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Come
with me, I’ve got something better.”

He shrugged and followed me back outside and
I wound him through the trees until we found the pathway that led
to the rear of the main building.

“What’s back here?” He said, as he carried
the empty basket I had dumped onto one of the tables in the Rec
room. I could hear the country twang of a guitar coming from behind
us as a Keith Urban song started. I smiled, grateful that Jacks
still had a wide range of taste in music.

“You’ll see.” I realized that Fin had taken
me back here almost the same way, secretive, hoping to save the
surprise for the last minute.

As soon as the greenhouse came into view,
Skip knew instantly what it was. “Alright!” He said, and picked up
his pace on the trail. I smiled when we stepped inside and Skip’s
eyes widened with delight.

I wandered down the first aisle, touching
each plant gingerly. “How about some fresh green beans, a salad and
tomatoes for spaghetti sauce?” I looked at Skip who was still
staring at the rows of fresh food in disbelief.

“Wow, sounds great to me!” He said.

We picked several handfuls of beans, what
seemed like over a pound of tomatoes and filled the rest of the
basket with vegetables for the salad. I laid a handful of herbs on
the top and Skip happily carried the basket back to the Rec room.
By the time we returned, Aerosmith was playing and the men were
huddled by the fire, looking out the windows at the view, each with
an open beer in their hand.

“Hey! There you are!” Jacks said, and
strolled across the room. He peered down at the basket Skip had set
on the table and said, “Holy shit. Where’d this come from?”

“We have our own greenhouse.” Skip said
happily. “I’ll take these to the kitchen and start cleaning
them.”

“Thanks Skip.” I smiled at his back and
turned to face Jacks. He was wearing jeans and a dark pullover
sweatshirt with frayed edges and every time he raised the beer
bottle to his mouth I could see the trim of his green t-shirt
underneath.

“So, thanks for taking Kris in at your
place.” He looked at me from over the lip of the bottle before
taking another long swallow. “She needs to be around another woman.
And Ana doesn’t count.”

I nodded. “It’s nice having her around
actually. Where is Ana by the way?”

He shrugged. “Her and Matt disappeared
somewhere a while ago.” He winked. I felt like puking.

“I should go help Skip.” I smiled and left
Jacks to go to the small kitchen in the back of the building. The
vegetables had all been rinsed and Skip was cutting the ends off of
the green beans. We worked side by side cutting veggies, pureeing
the tomatoes, chopping herbs and waiting for the water to boil.

As I lightly sautéed the beans, I looked at
the open kitchen door to make sure it was empty.

“Skip, what happened to Kris?” I asked it
quietly, not wanting the others to hear from the other room.

“Ahh. You mean the cuts?” He paused and then
stirred the sauce before turning to face me. “She hasn’t told me
the story, but Jacks knows it. He found her hiding out in a gas
station somewhere in Los Angeles. All I know is that she ran into
the wrong people when everything started falling apart. From the
way Jacks said it, she barely got away with her life.” He turned to
face the simmering sauce again.

I looked at the doorway. “Poor kid.” I sighed
and slid the beans out of the pan into a large bowl, drizzled them
with olive oil and sprinkled some coarse sea salt and cracked
pepper all over. “I didn’t leave my house for a long time. Not
until I needed to get water. By then, well...everyone in my part of
town was gone.” I twirled the ends of a cheesecloth kitchen towel
in between my fingers.

“It still doesn’t seem real, does it?” Skip’s
voice was huskier than usual, emotional.

We stood next to each other, staring down at
the rolling pasta as it boiled. Skip put a hand on my shoulder and
squeezed gently. I looked up at his round and whiskered face, only
a few inches from mine and tried to smile.

“It’s going to be okay. You have to believe
that, Riley.”

I nodded, but I didn’t say to him how much I
disagreed with his statement at the time.

Kris walked into the kitchen with Zoey at her
feet. “Do you need any help?” She asked with a hesitant smile on
her face.

“Feel like taking the beans and salad out to
one of the tables?” I smiled at her.

“Sure.” She picked the two large bowls up off
the counter and said over her shoulder on her way into the next
room, “Oh, your friends just got here.”

***

Dinner was full of amazing conversation and
even better food…spreading out over an hour to finish. Three large,
rectangular tables were lined up next to each other by the kitchen
and with all of us sitting together, we filled two of them. Matt
and Ana had showed up just as we all sat down to eat. He seemed to
avoid looking in my direction either to please Ana or keep from
upsetting Jacks, who had taken one of the seats beside me. Connor
and Fin sat across from me, visibly drunk but in good spirits, and
Kris sat to my right. Skip was on the far end of our table, and the
rest of the group took up the table next to us.

When the food was gone, and the dishes were
cleared, we stretched out on the couches, some of us with beers,
the rest of us with glasses of wine. Most of the group was gathered
around Connor, who seemed more than willing in his drunken state to
talk about his movie career. Ana sat perched like a vulture on the
armrest of the couch next to him, continuously licking her full
lips as if waiting for the right time to pounce on him. Matt sat in
a lone chair off in the corner, glaring at the group while he took
long sips of a dark liquid he had poured into a small tumbler. His
hair was mused, and his clothes seemed thrown on, like he didn’t
care what he looked like…not at all like the Matt I met downtown,
who seemed overly vain.

The room smelled strongly of burning wood,
and a whisper of Italian food. I cuddled into the cushions of the
couch and stared into the fire, listening to the pop of the
engulfed logs. The wine swished in my glass as Fin plopped down
heavily beside me.

“Whoa.” I said to him as I lifted my glass up
and away from him.

“Sorry.” He laughed and took a sip of beer
before resting one of his hands on my thigh, a goofy grin on his
face. We stared at each other for a long moment until someone
cleared their throat above me. I looked up and Jacks was leaning on
the back of the couch, a twinkle in his eye.

“Can I have this dance?” He said, ignoring
Fin, who still had his hand on my leg.

“Uh.” I said, not sure how to answer. And
then I heard the song playing.
Delicate
, by Damien Rice. I
had
to dance, and Jacks knew it. I stood up and set my wine
glass down on an end table and let him lead me to the center of the
room. He put his arm around me and pulled me in tight, pressing my
chest into his ribs. We swayed and slowly turned in circles and
half way through the song I realized the room had gone quiet. Jacks
buried his mouth into my neck and murmured the words of the song
into my hair and I let myself float away with him.