Pucker Up (8 page)

“I’d
love to hear all about it.  Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“I
don’t think that’s a good idea,” Peter warned.

Harmony
crossed to the cupboard and grabbed a stack of plates.  “Why not?  You said I
could invite whoever I wanted to dinner since it’s my celebration, remember? 
Well, I want to invite my new friend Faith here.”  The seventeen-year-old
smiled at her father, one Faith was sure she’d used many times to sway his
opinion.

“She
can’t stay.  She has somewhere she needs to be, don’t you?”  Dustin’s face was
closed, drawn, and Faith couldn’t help but have a strong reaction to it.  She
hadn’t wanted to see him, true, but she wasn’t about to let him order her away. 
She had something to do, and she was going to stay until she got the nerve to
do it.

“Actually,
I don’t have any other place to be.  I’d love to stay for dinner.”

“Excuse
me,” Dustin said, throwing down the towel in his hand and stalking out of the room. 
The door to his study slammed with a definitive thwack.  Peter gave his
daughter an unamused look before following after his brother.

Harmony
just shrugged and started setting the table.  “So, what are we celebrating?” 
Faith asked.

“It
is my seventh anniversary.”  At the look on Faith’s face she continued.  “Seven
years ago today Peter adopted me, and I became an Andrews.”

“I
don’t want to hear it,” Dustin growled the minute Peter entered the room.

“You
don’t know what I’m going to say.”

Dustin
laughed, no humor, only derision, and turned from the window.  He didn’t
appreciate the view anyway; it was marred with an Audi.  “Peter, you are the
most predictable person in the world.  Even if we weren’t twins I’d know
exactly what you’re going to say.”

“Enlighten
me then, bro.”  Peter dropped down in front of the desk and propped his feet up
on it.

“You’re
going to ask what the hell has come over me.  Then you’re going to ream me for
being an oafish brute.  Oh, and I bet there’s at least one ‘cut her some slack’
and a fairytale happy ending in there somewhere.”

Peter
let a small grin touch his face.  “I would have said asshole, not brute.”

Dustin
scoffed and rolled his eyes, getting a glimpse of the shattered glass across
the room.  He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath to calm himself.  “I
don’t want her here.”

Peter
sighed.  “Yes, you do.  It’s why you’re fighting like hell to get her to
leave.”

“That
doesn’t make even one lick of sense.  You use that logic on the impressionable
minds of children?”

Peter
slammed his hand against the grain of the desk, surprising Dustin into paying
attention.  “Damn it, Dustin, what do you take me for, an idiot?  You want to
lie to the world and her and yourself, fine, but don’t try and lie to me. 
You’re not that good at it.”  Peter stood and glared down at his twin.  “She’s
here for a reason.  She’s staying for dinner.  Pull yourself together before
Harmony figures out all your secrets.”

“Wonderful
chat,” Dustin murmured as Peter made his way to the door.

“And,”
he said, turning back with his hand on the doorknob, “cut the girl some slack. 
She had more guts than you did – she came back.”

Dinner
was served, mounds of food that made Faith’s mouth water, not any of it vegan. 
She knew what Dustin’s comment would be to that admission, a roll of the eyes
and snort of derision, so she didn’t say anything.  She was vegan mostly
because her cook was now vegan, a leftover Attitunes addition when her persona
had changed from vegetable-loving hippie flower child to that smiley girl next
door.  She’d grown to love Pearl, even if she wouldn’t feed her dairy anymore.

The
meal only vaguely resembled the ones Faith used to eat in the house.  The oak
table remained the same, grounding everything in tradition, but the hospitality
was missing, something she’d surely scared away with her ill-conceived visit. 
She could feel the absence of their mother as well, always guiding the
conversation to places both entertaining and innocuous.

There
was conversation, Harmony a chatty spitfire doing her best to charm information
from her father and uncle and failing spectacularly.  Faith was instantly taken
with the girl and knew that her special celebration was being ruined by Faith’s
appearance and the black clouds over the male heads.  When the conversation lapsed
into silence for a third time, she decided to enter the fray.

“Peter,
do you still have that crazy motorcycle?”

“You
used to have a motorcycle?” Harmony asked, her eyes going wide.  “That is awesome. 
Were you a Hell’s Angel?  How much leather did you own?”

“I
guess that’s a no.” Faith laughed. 

“Hard
no.  I gave that thing up years ago.  Crashed it once into a ditch, not a tree
thank goodness, and decided I like transportation with walls.”

“That’s
not entirely true,” said Harmony.  She paused to take a bite of lasagna before
continuing.  “You still like riding horses.  Not as much as Uncle Dust, but
does anyone really like horses as much as him?”

The
table fell into uncomfortable silence.  Dustin’s love of horses had been a huge
beacon in their relationship.  An argument could be made for the two of them
falling in love on horseback, lonely trails he led her down as he taught her to
ride and stole her heart.  What else would you expect from a riding
instructor?  Faith hadn’t been near a horse in a decade.  Just the mention of
the animal caused her heart to strum painfully in her chest. 

Faith
floundered around for a safe topic.  “So Peter, you got married.”  The table
got even quieter at her question – evidently that wasn’t it.

He
looked down at the wedding ring on his left hand and reached a hand out for
Harmony’s, fondness written all over his face.  “Best three days of my life.”

“What
is it about Andrews men?  Short marriages must be written in our DNA somewhere,
eh Ally?”

Harmony’s
eyes got wide at his words.  “Ally?  Not
the
Ally?!  I thought your name
was Faith?”

“Her
name is Faith.  Your uncle’s just always called West here, Ally.”  There was an
uncomfortable silence after Peter’s words. 

“Wait,
West.  Faith
West
?!” Harmony squealed.

“It’s
just a day of surprises, isn’t it?” Dustin growled.

“
The
Faith West.  Seriously?!”

“In
the flesh,” Faith murmured with a weak smile.

Harmony
turned her attention to her father and uncle, her eyes tracking between them
quickly like she was watching a ping-pong match.  “You guys know Faith West? 
And you never mentioned it?!”

“We
don’t know her,” Dustin said, his voice hollow.  “We knew her.  Long time ago. 
Demons laid to rest.”

“Excuse
me,” Faith said, rising as her composure finally crumbled.  “I need some air.”

“You
are the worst sister ever.”  Harmony rolled her eyes at the screen of her phone
and the blonde with faintly purple hair.  “You text me cryptic things then send
me a picture of Uncle Dust talking with Faith West, and I have to wait…” 
Melody glanced down at her watch.  “Eighteen minutes before you chat me with
details.  Shameful.”

“You
do not even know the half of it.  He knows her.  Like
knows
her knows
her.”

Melody
frowned.  “He didn’t say anything when we saw her at the restaurant.  You’re
sure?”

“Mel,
she’s Ally.”

“Shut
Up!”

“No,
seriously, she is.  He called her Ally.  I didn’t even realize who she was
until dinner was almost over, and Dad let it slip.  Obviously you recognized
her right away, but I did not.  Then again, I’m not obsessed with her like you
are.”  Harmony’s lips quirked as her sister let that comment slide by.  “Is
this proof, do you think?”

Melody’s
eyes drifted away from the screen, thinking.  “It seems the girl is real.  Stands
to reason the story might be too.”

Harmony
pursed her lips in thought and sat down in the middle of her bed.  “Have you
ever seen any of the Apple Lodge movies?”

Melody
raised an eyebrow.  “Those summer camp tween musicals on the Disney Channel?  I
think I’m a little past their demographic.”

“You’re
not eleven?  Color me surprised.  But seriously, you remember how big they were
five years ago – huge.  In the first one a singer named Hope is staying at the
Apple Lodge under the alias, Amy.  And the name of the love interest, that
works there, is Justin.”

“Where
are you going with this, Harm?”

She
got up and started pacing the room.  “This may sound a little farfetched, so
bear with me.  I’ve always thought that the Apple Lodge movies sounded like our
bedtime story.  But if you consider that the Apple Lodge movies are about a
singer and the real Ally is a singer, they’re like exactly the same.”

“Let
me get this straight,” Melody said.  “You think, what?  That famous Faith West
wrote a screenplay about her life?”

Harmony
shrugged.  “Not necessarily.  But maybe someone that knew her and Uncle Dust
did.  That’s just too many coincidences, right?”

The
sisters sat, lost in thought, until Melody started at a knock on her door. 
“That’s Eric and Nell with the pizza for the study group.”  Harmony watched as
her sister got up and walked to the door of her dorm room.  “Okay, I’ll try and
find out more about who wrote the Apple Lodge movies; you see what you can get
out of the adults on your end.”

“Gee,
sis, thanks for the easy task.”

Melody
rolled her eyes.  “Hey, if I was home, I would not leave Faith West’s side. 
You can have internet research any time little sister.”  She paused for a
moment.  “Is this really a good idea?”

“If
we don’t know why he’s sad, we can’t help him,” Harmony said.  “For Uncle Dust.”

“For
Uncle Dust.”

Faith
looked out across the yard, hoping the deep breaths of crisp spring air would
help right herself.  She had been a fool for coming here, for thinking it would
be different.  Or for thinking it would be the same.  All she could hope for
now was getting out relatively unscathed. 

She
didn’t need to turn to know he’d joined her.   “It just wasn’t meant to be,
Dusty.”  Her words were tired, her voice reserved.

“Or
we were, and you just weren’t willing to fight for us, Ally.”

She
looked up at him from her seat on the porch swing, and some of that old fire coursed
through her, the passion she hadn’t felt for too many years to count.  “And
what is that supposed to mean?”

“You
know exactly what that means.  I wasn’t the one that destroyed our marriage
license.  I wasn’t the one that decided to pretend like nothing ever happened and
run off.”

“What
did you want me to do?  Open up and tell everyone about our pain?”

“Better
than writing it off as something you failed at on your damn checklist, and
moving on.”

She
stood, as close to unraveling as she’d been in a decade.  “Don’t stand there
and tell me that I didn’t grieve correctly for you.  Don’t preach to me on how
this was all supposed to go.  You think I don’t think about her all the time?  About
us?  About what could have been?!”

Dustin
didn’t speak for a long time, his eyes cast to the ground.  “Her?” he asked
quietly.

That’s
right, she’d never told him that.  Never told him their child was a girl. 
“Yes, her.”  He nodded his head, like this was old news, but she saw the
glimmer of tears in his eyes.

They’d
been very careful the whole visit not to get too close, not to touch.  It
hadn’t been tested in ten years, but their chemistry used to be combustible – too
close and you could kiss your eyebrows goodbye.  Their attraction had been a
drug, something Faith quit cold turkey a long time ago, hardest thing she’d
ever had to do.  Something she’d run from ever since, getting involved with
attractive men, yes, but ones who couldn’t even start the pilot light let alone
a forest fire.

But
she couldn’t let him stand there on the verge of tears and not reach for him.  She
crossed the porch in three steps, slipped a comforting hand over his white-knuckle
grip on the railing, and the other around his torso in an embrace meant to be
reassuring.  He stood ramrod straight in her arms for just a moment before he
buried his face in her neck and cried.

She
tried to be strong for him, but she couldn’t help but join in, tears streaming
down her face and soaking the front of his shirt.  Grief.  She’d made sure
they’d never grieved together, so confident he wouldn’t want her anymore when
the baby was gone that nothing had been there to hold them together.  But the
way he was yelling at her, maybe she had been wrong – she cried for that too.

Faith
felt his tears stop and pulled herself together, leaning back just slightly to
look at his face.  She shouldn’t have.  The yearning in his eyes was her
undoing.  And then his lips were on hers, demanding a response.  Demanding
pieces of her she’d been careful to keep from everyone else.  He pulled away
for one beat, the knowledge of what they were doing skirting across his eyes,
before capturing her mouth again, his tongue sliding in to taste her.

It
had been a decade since she’d been kissed like this, with a ferocity all but
forgotten.  The longing that songs were made of.  The exasperation of his lips
stalking hers, needing to get closer.  The confidence of his stance, pressing
her against the porch post, cornered by his presence.  The intimacy of his
hands, slipping her shirt up over her head and then settling on her hips; hands
rough and worn and oh so gentle.  And then not really gentle at all.

Dustin
shook with desire, the first brush of her lips awakening things he’d long
forgotten.  Part of him was sure she was still a dream and he leaned closer,
needing to feel that she was real.  His hands slid up her body, stung by the
heat of her skin, and came to rest in her hair.  He filled his hands with her
curls, and a wave of need and remembrance crashed against him.

“Owww,”
she yelped.  The sound of her pain caused him to release her and take a step
back.  But her body curved towards him.

“What’s
wrong?  Did I – did I hurt you?” he growled.  He ran a hand through his hair,
trying to stop himself from reaching for her.

“Something
did,” she murmured.  But she wasn’t looking at him.  Instead, she turned to
look at the post he’d pressed her against.  He cursed when he saw her back.  A
cluster of splinters were embedded just beneath the strap of her bra.  He
should have refinished the porch years ago.  “What?” she asked.