Mark My Words Page 7

  “A happily ever after,” she explained.

  “Oh. Right.” Not text speak. Romance novel speak. Got it. I took the book. “Thanks for your help.” I set the book on top of the mystery ones I’d already chosen.

  “I hope she likes it,” the woman said.

  “Me too.” With my finds, I headed to the register. After paying for the books, I ambled out into the cold night. As I walked to my car, the books called to me from inside the bag, beckoning me into their stories. But there was something I had to take care of before I could travel inside the pages of the books.

  After I got in my car, I threw the bag of books on the passenger seat and started the engine. When I pulled out of the parking lot, I turned in the direction of the grocery store. But I felt myself being yanked in a different direction, and before I knew it, I’d passed the grocery store and was heading the opposite way.

  It only took a few minutes to reach her house. I parked across the street, and turned off the engine. Her house was dark, all of the curtains closed. But there was one window that glowed with soft yellow light. The curtains were drawn, but not all the way. It was open enough that I could see inside the room. Just a sliver, but enough to catch a splash of a bed, a corner of a dresser. My breath caught in my throat when Lennie came into view. She stood in between the gap in the curtains, staring up at the sky. She had on no makeup, and her hair was pulled up into a messy bun. She looked beautiful. Radiant.

  Unmoving, I stared up at her. When her gaze bounced down to the street, I slid down in my seat until I was hidden. I didn’t know why I did it. When I first drove here, I planned to knock on her door, give her the book. But now I wasn’t so sure that showing up unannounced was a good idea. She was clearly preparing for bed. The pink tank top she wore looked like something you’d wear when you went to sleep.

  The last thing I wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. As badly as I wanted to see her, to give her the gift, I knew it wasn’t the right time. So instead, I watched her until she securely closed the curtains. I sat perfectly still in my car until her light went off, leaving the entire house dark.

  Then I grabbed the book and emerged from the car. With large strides, I made my way across the street. It had rained earlier today, so the pavement was slick under my tennis shoes. The scent of damp asphalt filled my nostrils. I hurried up the walkway, my fingertips brushing the rose bushes that lined it. When I reached the stairs leading up to her front porch I was careful not to make a sound. Every time the stairs creaked, I froze, wincing. But once I was convinced no one had heard me, I continued on.

  When I reached the front door, I bent down, placing the book on top of the welcome mat. Standing up, my knees cracked. Taking a deep breath, I peered down at the book. Smiling, I imagined how happy Lennie would be when she discovered it in the morning.

  I may not have been able to see her face when she received the novel, but maybe this was better. Whirling around, I scrambled back to my car. Then I sped down the street, leaving Lennie’s house and the book with the happy ending behind.

  12

  The coffee shop was busier than usual for a Tuesday. Not only that, but there was a group of women who kept cackling in the corner. I mean, I was okay with talking, even the occasional laugh. But the sheer volume of these women made me wonder if they thought they were at a bar with loud music playing in the background. Normally I could write even in the noisiest of situations, but today I was having trouble. Every guffaw, every screech reverberated through my body until I felt it at the back of my mouth like sour candy.

  Fishing inside of my bag, I searched for a pair of earbuds. When I didn’t initially find them, I worried that I had left them at home. I didn’t often use them when I left my apartment. Mostly because I liked to be aware of my surroundings when out in public. But right now the earbuds were essential. Dipping my hand in further, I made one last ditch effort to find them. Relief flooded me the minute my fingertips lighted on a cord. Looping my finger around it, I yanked it out. After plugging one end into my laptop, I pulled up my iTunes page and chose a playlist. Then I shoved the earbuds into my ears and allowed the music to dull my senses.

  I had been writing for several minutes when a shadow cast over me. At first I ignored it, thinking it was a patron waiting for a coffee. But when the shadow didn’t move, I looked up. At the sight of her, a smile stretched across my face.

  Her lips moved, but I couldn’t make out the words. I held up my finger signaling for her to give me a minute. Then I pulled out my earbuds and discarded them on the table. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay.” She shook her head. “Sorry I interrupted. It looks like the words were really flowing.”

  Spoken like a writer. “That’s okay. Seeing you is better.”

  Her cheeks flushed. Dropping the romance novel I bought her on the table, she said, “This was from you, right?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Are there other guys that you suspect would leave a romance novel on your doorstep?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “Only you.” Sweeping her hand down to the chair across from me, she raised her brows. “May I?”

  “Of course. You’re always welcome at my table.”

  She grinned and sat. “You know you didn’t have to leave the book. You could’ve knocked.”

  “You were in bed when I came by,” I lied.

  “How do you know?” There was a teasing gleam in her eye.

  I shrugged. “I guessed. The house was dark. It was late.”

  “Oh.” She pointed to the book. “It’s really good.”

  “You already read it?” I knew she was an avid reader, but this had to be some kind of record.

  “Not all of it. But I read the first chapter.” Reaching out, she traced the letters on the glossy cover with her fingertips. “Have you read it?”

  “No. I actually never even heard of it,” I said. “I was at the bookstore last night and a woman in the romance aisle recommended it. Said it had a happy ending.”

  Her smile deepened. “Then I know I’ll love it.” The clouds moved outside allowing the sun to peek through and it shone in the window. Haloing Lennie’s head, it gave the illusion that she was an angel. Today the scarf she wore was silky, an array of pastel colors. It reminded me of spring.

  The barista called out a name, causing me to flinch. It also reminded me that I needed a refill, and Lennie didn’t have a drink. I scooted my chair back, almost hitting the chair of the person sitting at the table behind me. Not that the guy would have noticed. He was typing furiously, listening to headphones so loudly I could hear the song. “I’ll go grab you a coffee.”

  “No,” Lennie said vehemently. “You’ve already bought me enough coffees. I can get my own this time.” She stood, glancing down at my empty mug. “In fact, I’ll get you one too.”

  I almost argued, but thought better of it. Clearly this was important to her. And really, it made me feel good that she wanted to do something for me. So far it felt like I was always the one initiating things. But this morning it had all been her. She showed up here. She asked to sit with me. She was buying the coffee.

  Swiveling in my seat, I slung my arm over the side and watched her. She talked easily with the barista as she placed our order, even seemed to be joking with him. My heart swelled in my chest. She was changing. It was like every time we were together some of the darkness slipped away, allowing the light to reveal itself. And I liked this side of her. This softer side. This lighter side. This happier side.

  “Two coffees coming up.” She set a newly filled mug in front of me. The aromatic scent of coffee wafted from it, steam circling. Moving around the table, she held her mug steady in her hand. After placing it on the table, she slid into her chair. While mine was plain black coffee, hers was piled high with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. When she took a sip, whipped cream painted her nose. With an embarrassed grin, she wiped it off with the back of her hand.

  “You must be feeling well today,�
� I observed.

  “I am.” She held the mug in her lap, her index finger running along the rim.

  I sat forward, my heart picking up speed. “That’s a good sign, right? Maybe this means that the treatments are working; that you’re getting better.”

  She bit her lip. “It just means I have good days and bad days. This is a good one.”

  Nodding, I remembered when she told me not to give her false hope. At the time I hadn’t understood it. Wasn’t hope a good thing? But now I got it. Hope was only good if the thing you were hoping for was possible. From what Lennie had told me, it seemed that getting better was a long shot. Maybe even an impossibility.

  “So when are you going to let me read your book?” She glanced at my laptop.

  “Not yet,” I said. “That’s why I got you that book.” I pointed toward the one sitting in the middle of the table. “To tide you over.”

  “Meanie.” She stuck out her tongue, stunning me. It was the most playful I’d seen her. My first inclination was to tease her, call her immature. But I didn’t want to taint her good mood. So instead, I chuckled.

  “Yeah, that’s me. I’m a big meanie,” I joked. “Ask my sister. She used to call me that all the time.”

  “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

  Inwardly I groaned, seriously regretting the mention of my sister. Talking about my family with Lennie was not my idea of a good time. One of the things I liked about Lennie was that she was separate from that part of my life. Now I had no choice but to talk about Amelia. “Um…yeah. She went to our high school, but she was a few years behind us.” I paused. “Amelia.”

  Lennie scrunched up her lips, deep in thought. “Amelia Wilde,” she said slowly. Then her head swiveled back and forth. “I don’t remember her. Does she still live here?”

  “No. Her husband is in the army. They live in North Carolina.”

  “Was her husband from here too?”

  “No,” I responded, the edges of my lips tugging upward. “Actually he’d never even been to San Francisco until he and Amelia visited last year for Christmas.” I snorted. “He dragged Amelia to all the tourist attractions. You know, Pier 39, Chinatown, Alcatraz.” Amelia was so irritated. She spent her entire Christmas vacation doing the things we did a million times when we were younger.

  “That sounds fun.” Lennie’s eyes lit up.

  “Really?” I reeled back. “You do know that all of those things are here in the city. You can do them anytime you want.”

  “Yeah, but that’s the funny thing about living somewhere. You take things for granted, and you don’t take advantage of them. I mean, I think I’ve only been to Alcatraz like twice in my life. And I can’t remember the last time I went to Pier 39.”

  Neither of those things appealed to me, but seeing Lennie happy did. “Then let’s do it.”

  “What?”

  “Pick a day, any day, and I’ll take you to Pier 39 and Alcatraz.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” I glanced outside and then amended my statement. “Well, any day except today, because it looks like a storm is rolling in.”

  “Okay.” She giggled. “Fair enough.” Reaching forward, she picked up her coffee and nestled back in her chair. She appeared content, and that satisfied me. I remembered feeling bad for Amelia when she had to traipse around town hitting up all the tourist attractions with Chris. And now here I was preparing to do the same thing with Lennie. But it didn’t seem as awful as I had assumed.

  Mainly because there was no downside to spending the day with Lennie.

  But also because I’d do just about anything to make her smile.

  13

  It was the same dinner as last time. Actually, now that I thought about it, Mom had made the same dinner the last few times I’d eaten with them. It was one of my favorites. Maybe that was why she kept fixing it for me. But at this point, I was kind of tired of it.

  However, beggars can’t be choosers. And, truthfully, my parents were helping me out a lot right now. Mom especially. Therefore, I’d remain grateful. So I shoved more of the chicken into my mouth even though my stomach soured. And when Mom shot me glances here and there, I smiled as if I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

  Besides, my stomach issues probably had more to do with my excitement about tomorrow’s outing with Lennie than with the fact that I was tired of this dinner. It was funny how simply thinking of Lennie got my stomach all knotted up.

  “Amelia said she talked with you the other day,” Mom’s voice cut into the silence, sharp, like a knife.

  “Yeah,” I answered noncommittally, taking another bite. Maybe if my mouth was full of food, she wouldn’t expect me to speak.

  “That’s nice.” Mom grinned warmly. “I always wanted you two to be close.”

  Mom had a skewed view of reality. It was like she lived in her own world. A world full of smiling faces, kind gestures, sunny skies, and sweet smelling flowers. But at least she was always happy.

  Ignorance is bliss, right?

  That’s why instead of correcting her, I simply agreed. “Yeah, it is nice, Mom.”

  To my right, Ray scraped his fork against his plate. I felt the sound at the back of my teeth, like nails on a chalkboard. When I looked up at him, his lips were curled into their perpetual frown, his gaze fixated on his food.

  “Oh, I finished the last chapters you sent me,” Mom said, and my head snapped in her direction. “It’s so good!” She clapped her hands the way she did whenever she got excited.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I could feel Ray’s eyes on me, so I didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic. Real men didn’t get all giddy the way women did. But inside, my heart lifted.

  “When do we get to meet the girl who’s inspiring you?” Mom leaned over, nudging me with her elbow.

  It was supposed to be harmless, affectionate even. But every jab felt like a punch. Like she was bruising me. I half-expected my skin to turn black and blue. “What are you talking about?” The scraping ceased. Ray’s arm was still. Only this subject could make him stop shoving food into his face.

  “C’mon, honey, it’s clear that you have a muse,” she said the word “muse” as if she’d recently learned it.

  “Nope. No muse. Just my own imagination,” I responded, not daring to look up at her.

  “The way you write about the main character, it’s like she’s real. There just has to be someone,” Mom insisted.

  Ray slammed down his fork with such force, Mom and I both flinched. “Stop trying to push the boy. If he says there’s no girl, then there’s no girl. And let’s thank our freakin’ lucky stars. We all know what happened the last time.”

  Mom’s face reddened. “No, you stop!” she yelled back, shocking us both. Mom never spoke like that to anyone. Definitely not Ray. My back went rigid, my shoulders tensing. I was afraid to move. Afraid to breathe. “That was a long time ago, and it wasn’t Colin’s fault. It was that girl’s….” she shook her head as if it pained her to think about it. After muttering something unintelligible under her breath, she lifted her chin. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Colin is a wonderful man. And he deserves to be happy.” Her lips quivered, and she took a deep breath. Then she turned to me and smiled, the mom I was familiar with returning. “I just want you to be happy, son.”

  As uncomfortable as I was with the entire conversation, I was grateful to Mom for defending me. She’d always been my defender. My comforter. The only one in my corner. And apparently I needed someone to defend me since I was too chickenshit to do it myself. It should’ve been me getting on Ray for bringing that up tonight, but I’d always been too scared to argue with him. However, Mom was right. I was an adult now. A man. And what happened was in my past. I shouldn’t have to be reminded of it all the time. I sighed. “I know, Mom. Thanks.”

  Ray grunted, shaking his head as if sickened by the whole display. Mom patted my hand. As if it was the last straw, Ray shoved away from the table, threw down his napkin and stomped out of the ro
om.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Mom said in that same innocent, overly cheery voice. “You and I both know the truth about what happened, and that’s all that matters.”

  Well, one of us did anyway.

  14

  The first time my family made the trip to Alcatraz I was a small child. Amelia tormented me the entire trip, threatening to lock me in one of the cells so I’d be stuck on the island when my family rode the boat back to the city. Now I knew how stupid I was to believe her. There was no way I could get locked in. The prison wasn’t up and running, and tours went through that place all day. But in my naïve little boy mind, I did think it was possible.

  It was one of the many times my imagination became my enemy instead of my friend.

  For weeks after that trip I had nightmares about prison cells, metal bars caging me in, darkness, cold water, hungry sharks. I heard the click of locks, the slamming of doors, the slap of the waves, the cackling of my sister. And I’d wake in a cold sweat, my pulse racing.

  “You okay?” Lennie’s voice pulled me back to the present.

  “Yeah,” I lied, swallowing hard. Leaning against the railing of the boat, I stared out at the choppy waters. Oddly enough, it calmed me. Lennie stood beside me, her shoulder brushing mine. Breathing deeply, I inhaled the salty air. The cool breeze washed over my face.

  “It’s a beautiful day,” she said, a smile playing on her lips. Her gaze swept across the waves. “I just love the ocean here. It’s funny, because when I would go to the ocean in Southern California it was completely different. The beaches were sandy and warm, and there were always people there.” Clutching the railing, she leaned forward. Rays of sun kissed her smooth, pale skin. “But I actually like it better here. I know it’s cold, but I don’t need to swim in it. I’m not even a very good swimmer.” She chuckled. “Rob hated that about me. He grew up in the water.”

  I turned, leaning my back against the side of the boat, and peered down at her. She was picking at her fingernails, appearing agitated. “What exactly was the story with you and Rob?”