Scars Like Wings (A FAIRY TALE LIFE Book 4) Page 8

  “Oh, um… “ It was Friday night. I was walking Jillian to her car. Then I was going home. I had to admit, it took balls to come on to someone with such fervor while a much more attractive girl stood not a foot away. Sure, she was just a friend, if I could even call her that. But Miss Priss didn’t know that, which made me like her even less. Still, this was not something I’d expected and a blind man could read between the lines and know that studying was the last thing on her mind. I startled when my other bicep was seized and a hand shot out from beside me.

  “Oh, hi.” The inflection in her voice made me cringe. It screamed, back off, bitch, and it seemed to come naturally to Jill. “It’s nice to meet one of Ben’s school friends. Darcy, was it? Hmmm, he’s never mentioned you. Ever. Anyway, I’m Jillian Walker.”

  If Darcy was a dog drooling over a bone, Jillian was the alpha, baring gums and teeth, along with a low growl. She was prepared to protect her territory. I shivered. Darcy must have felt it too. She took Princess’s hand and the lust-filled smile melted off her pale, over made face as she sized Jillian up. No comparison. None. Checkmate. Matchpoint. Pack it up and go back to your friends, chick.

  “Oh, well.” She squirmed in place and looked at me, then to Jillian again, who was holding her hand much longer than was comfortable. And if I were to guess, her grip was probably much tighter than necessary, too. “It’s nice to meet you. I guess I should go, I think I hear the bus.” She wrenched her hand from Jillian’s and scuttled back to her hive of overdressed, overly hairsprayed friends without a backward glance.

  Jillian started walking again while I just stared. Actually, ‘walking’ may be too weak a term. Her pace made what we’d been doing just moments before seem like a casual stroll compared to the speed walking she was now doing.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked as I caught up with her after a few beats. I had to admit, the events of the last few minutes had been funny as hell, and I very much appreciated her coming to my aid while I floundered like a fish out of water, but it was only natural to question her motivation.

  “What? Certainly, you didn’t want to go with that bimbo, to her house of sin and debauchery under the guise of studying, while she, and possibly her crew of Barbie girl, airheaded friends pawed all over you. Or did you?” I laughed.

  “Not particularly, but I could have handled it. It’s not like that’s the first time I’ve been hit on.” She stopped again and turned back toward me.

  “What do you mean?” Her cute little head was cocked to one side and a deep wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. Was it really that unbelievable that I would occasionally gain the attention of the fairer sex? I should have been offended, but I wasn’t.

  “Hey, what can I say? This is a military school… chicks dig soldiers.” I shrugged. “It happens occasionally.”

  “How occasionally?” Her arms were crossed tight over her chest. She wasn’t moving until she got her answer.

  “A few times a week?”

  “Define a few.” Now her hands were on her hips. Adorable.

  “Six or seven?” Her mouth gaped open.

  “You get hit on that aggressively six or seven times a week?” I chuckled.

  “You think that was aggressive? That’s nothing. I found a pair of silk undies in my backpack the other day with a phone number written on them and a few have gotten a little handsy with the goods, if you know what I mean. Now that qualifies as aggressive.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head and with a huff, started walking again. When we arrived outside the garage where her car was parked, she stopped, but hesitated.

  “What?” I wanted to know what was going on in that privileged little brain of hers.

  “I’m just wondering, have you ever taken any of them up on their offers?”

  I took a deep breath, burying my hands in my pockets, where I found the photo scrap tucked away. I flipped the corner of it with my fingers and, refusing to meet her eyes, I shook my head, hoping to avoid where this conversation was headed.

  “Why not?” Looking up, her eyes bore holes into mine, like she was searching for the answer deep inside my soul. What should I tell her? That I wasn’t interested in girls? No, that would be a lie. That I wasn’t interested in a relationship? Well, that was true, to an extent, but I had no desire to tell her the real reason I didn’t date—the same reason I would never enter into a serious relationship or get married. That was my burden, my weight to carry, my souvenir from that ill-fated day in the desert.

  “Look, I’m here to study and get a degree. I won’t let anything or anyone get in the way of that.” The corners of her mouth turned down just a little and I felt it in my chest. She wasn’t satisfied with my answer, almost as if she knew there was a truckload of baggage behind my words. But with a quick nod of her head, telling me she’d accepted my answer, for now, she turned and headed into the garage.

  Chapter 12

  Jillian

  “AWW, LOOK AT THEM.” I pointed at the two older people, all bundled up against the crisp afternoon air, as they wandered up the sidewalk. They held hands like it was their first date and the man’s gentle laughter at something his wife said melted my heart a little more.

  “Yeah. Adorable.” Bennett deadpanned. “They’re actually our dinner companions this evening.” At the rate they were walking, we wouldn’t get to dinner until midnight.

  We’d made it to Wednesday and round two of the bet. And already, my dream Thanksgiving with my dreamy boyfriend was feeling a bit threatened. Because, I planned to stick to my word. Waiting in front of the cafe, I took advantage of Ben’s distraction and checked him out. He wore that same grey T-shirt and at first glance, his jeans were nothing special. But from behind, he wore those Wranglers like he was doing them a favor and I suddenly became aware that I was practically panting.

  Bennett, ever the gentleman, held the door as the couple strolled in and took a seat. We followed, but almost immediately, Mrs. Lowe placed small plates of pasta with steaming meat sauce in front of the couple. She shook the old man’s gnarled hand and gently hugged the woman, taking her coat to hang on one of the hooks by the door.

  “Bernadette, Willie, this is Jillian, my, um, friend.” He presented me like I was a new car being offered on The Price is Right. “Jillian, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to Bernadette and Willie Coleson.”

  I offered my hand and both of them shook it gently, the gentleman offering me a seat. “Here, you sit young lady, and let Bennett go rustle you up some spaghetti.” Bennett nodded, taking his cue to leave, and whisked off, leaving me alone with members of the Golden Girls cast.

  “It’s so nice of you to join us for dinner this evening.” Mrs. Coleson’s smile was bright and her voice was so soothing. It made me want to crawl into her lap and ask her to read me stories. “So, dear, tell us about yourself.” Me? We weren’t here to talk about me!

  “Yes, ma’am. Well, I’m originally from Georgia.”

  “I can tell by the accent. What brought you west?” While Mrs. Coleson asked all the questions, Mr. Coleson tasked himself with cutting up her pasta. When he finished, he sprinkled a bit of parmesan cheese over the top and buttered her garlic toast.

  “Oh, I decided to come to Texas A&M because—,” I stopped. Why had I come to A&M? It was simple. Because of a boy. I came to Texas A&M because, since before I could talk, I’d been told that I would marry Gareth Johnson and I came to Texas A&M to solidify that arrangement. Why was I just now realizing that? And why were my eyes locked on Bennett, walking toward our table with two plates of pasta and two salads balanced precariously in his arms? I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I came to Texas A&M to spread my wings.” Bennett presented my food with a flourish, as a waiter would at a high-end restaurant, before taking his seat next to me. He neatly placed his napkin in his lap and waited for me to pick up my fork before picking his up.

  “That’s so nice. This is a wonderful place to live and raise a family. Do you think you’ll stay here, once you marry?” Ho
w could I tell them that, most likely, I’d be receiving mail at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue before it was all said and done? I couldn’t, not when I didn’t fully believe it myself.

  “Oh, I haven’t really thought about the long term. There’ll be plenty of time to think about that later. I’m only twenty.” Heat creped up my cheeks and I concentrated on my food.

  “Well, by the time I was twenty, I’d already buried one husband and was being courted by husband number two.” She elbowed a silent Willie in the ribs as Bennett passed me the parmesan cheese.

  “I’d’ve been husband number one if you’d said yes the first time I asked you.” He harrumphed, digging into his spaghetti. She just batted his words away with a roll of her eyes and a grin on her lips.

  “Oh, don’t listen to him. The first time he asked me was on the playground at Bowie Elementary School. The boy had no shoes on and not a moment before, he’d been making bets with the other boys to see how many rocks they could sneak into the building between their toes.”

  “I was the champion. No one could beat me.” He continued eating, like he’d never said a word. I cast a quick glance at Bennett and caught him looking at me, amusement painted across his face.

  “When I came of age, Willie was off fighting a war in France. He’d followed his older brother over there and I figured he’d never come back.” She sighed, wistfully lost in her memories.

  “Yeah, so she married my younger brother.”

  Wait, what? I swung my head around in question, but Bennett’s quick wink said he’d heard it all before.

  “Okay, so fine. I married his brother. The boy had flat feet and the army had no use for him.”

  Her husband huffed again, never looking up, but nothing about his demeanor spoke of anger. “Willie was the one I wanted, but I just figured he wasn’t coming back, so I married Ronald.” She shivered at the thought. Ronald must have been a real sour lemon judging by the looks on both Bernadette’s and Willie’s faces.

  “But tell them what happened to Ronald, Bernie.”

  She rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth, giving me a little glimpse of myself a hundred years from now. “Ronald, unbeknownst to me, had a faulty moral compass and a peculiar take on marriage and monogamy. He also had an interesting relationship with the truth. Just a few hours after the ceremony, the imbecile fell ill and never recovered. He’d contracted syphilis from God knows where and let me tell you, it was a blessing. I don’t think his own mother even cried.”

  “But, why?” Who was this Ronald character? Willie was all too happy to chime in.

  “He was a monster from the day he was born. He came out causing trouble and never stopped. Oh, sure. He was a charmer in the light of day, but integrity is what you do when no one else is watching, and that boy didn’t have an ounce.”

  “Oh, my.” I hadn’t expected such a tragic, yet satisfying ending. Because, of course, Bernadette and Willie deserved their happily ever after that had started with dirty feet on the school playground.

  “And then, before the body was even cold, my soldier boy came home to me. So you see, if I hadn’t married Ronald, I may have married someone even more scrupulous and then where would we be?” Willie continued eating, but he sat a little taller when Bernadette placed her hand on his.

  “So, if you don’t mind me asking,” I shot a look at Bennett, but he nodded for me to continue, “what brings you two here, to The Community Cafe?”

  “Well, the Good Lord never blessed us with children, though I stayed home day in and day out praying for a miracle. That’s what women did back then. So, I kept the home fires burning while Willie here taught history at the high school. But after two hip replacements, he had to hang up his hat. And I’ll tell you what, it’s a might tight, two people living on one teacher’s retirement. The cafe is only three blocks away from our house, and walking down here three days a week is not only good exercise, but smart business. It cuts our grocery bill nearly in half.” The couple smiled, as if they’d just let me in on the secret to life. And maybe they had.

  Because there I sat, astonished. These two people had nothing but each other in this world. And while my heart ached for their circumstance, they didn’t seem bothered in the least. This was their normal, same with Rosalinda. They weren’t constantly trying to climb their way to something better, rather they appreciated what they had. What a change from what I’d grown up with.

  “And what about family? Do you have anyone to go visit, or someone who visits you?” These two were peas and carrots and my greatest fear now was… what happens when one of them dies?

  “All of my people are long gone, but Willie’s older brother Anthony has kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. We aren’t close, but one of his great-granddaughters is in school here and she visits from time to time, though come to think of it, we haven’t seen much of her this fall.”

  Bernadette turned to Willie and asked, “When was the last time Lori stopped by, do you remember?”

  Lori?

  “Oh, well.” He paused in the way old men do when they’re thinking extra hard. “I suppose it was when she brought that boy around.” Willie turned and addressed me directly. “It’s the darndest thing. She comes ‘round to introduce us to her new beau, and I think he said he was somehow related to the governor.” His wide grin revealed a few missing teeth. “Isn’t that something?”

  My heart dropped into my stomach. Yeah. That was something, all right.

  I was quiet for the rest of the meal, trying to piece together why Lori and Gareth would have been together and why they would give the Colesons reason to suspect they were anything other than childhood friends. None of it made sense.

  “They were sweet.” I bundled up, combatting the frigid wind that came with early November. And though I wasn’t quite ready to admit defeat, I had to admit that things were changing inside of me.

  “Aren’t they? And just as pure as the day is long.” We walked out to my car and for the first time, Bennett had agreed to let me drive him to the library. He said he had some things to do before going home.

  “It’s sad that they never had children, but, kids or no kids, I hope to find a love like that one day.”

  Bennett sighed and buckled his seatbelt. “Don’t we all.”

  Still no message on the answering machine from Gareth. I tried his apartment again and left the same message I’d been leaving for weeks. “Hey, it’s Jillian. Call me back.” It was only upon hanging up that I realized I’d left out the part where I usually said I loved and missed him.

  Chapter 13

  Bennett

  I HADN’T PLANNED to take a road trip until after finals, but in our weekly calls—what I refer to as the ‘State of the Ranch’ calls—Doc mentioned they had a good chance of ice the following week. I remembered preparing for a hard freeze on the ranch since I’d done it many times. At the moment, they’d taken a break from fostering and the absence of extra hands made the burden close to impossible for one person to shoulder. So Friday morning, I hopped on a Greyhound bus and headed north.

  “Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes.” Doc clapped me on the back before pulling me in for a hug. Displays of emotion were few and far between, but I know how worried they were after the attack. They’ve both been a lot more affectionate since I showed up on their doorstep six months ago.

  “Good to see you too, old man.” And it was. It was so good to see a familiar face and a familiar place. What had been lush, green grass was now turning brown, as were the leaves on the oaks, while the setting sun created a patchwork of golden light for miles. Fall at the ranch was something out of a dream. Maybe because when I first arrived, it had been fall and even my angsty teen self could appreciate beauty in the wide-open space, along with the freedom that it symbolized.

  My caseworker called the ranch my second chance. But when had I been given a first chance? My parents were still children themselves when I was born. I hadn’t been planned and they certainly didn’t let parenthood get in
the way of their sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll lifestyle. I spent many a night listening to my coked-up dad beat on my mom mercilessly, only to hear them making up ten minutes later.

  Being placed with Doc and Rosie meant I had been given a new normal. I finally had an opportunity to be a kid for the first time in my life, and once I exorcised my demons through blood, sweat, and tears on the ranch, I did just that.

  We rode along in amiable silence, as we’d done for close to ten years. If I was a man of few words, Doc was a man of even fewer, but it had been exactly what I needed back then. And maybe now, too.

  In the beginning, when I’d come to the ranch with a chip on my shoulder the size of the Titanic, Doc took one look at me and put me to work. We labored, side by side for hours, then days, not exchanging more than a handful of words. Then, one day the silence got to me and I started talking. I talked and I talked, and I talked some more. I ranted and raved. I screamed and I shouted. I swore, and I cried and soon enough, I’d gotten it all out, all while Doc just kept working, and gifting me the occasional nod to let me know he was, in fact, listening.

  I asked him about it years later. I asked him why he stayed silent, while I blamed the universe, the world, my parents, and even him for all the problems in my life and I’ll never forget what he said.

  “Silence was my gift to you. What you’d been through broke my heart and so did knowing I couldn’t change it. But I could listen. As a foster parent, there was very little I could do to fix the broken boy in front of me, but that boy didn’t need fixing. He needed healing. And he had the strength to heal deep inside of him the whole time. All he had to do was let the bad stuff out so good stuff could replace it.”

  Of course, he was right. He always was. And from then on, when I needed to ‘let the bad stuff out,’ I asked Doc if we needed to ride the fence line. Sometimes he’d extend an invite if he thought something was troubling me. That was our code and I had a feeling we’d be checking a lot of fences the next few days.