Read Pieces Online

Authors: Michelle D. Argyle

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Travel, #Europe, #Italy, #General

Pieces (11 page)

BOOK: Pieces
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“What I mean,” she continued, “is that it’s pathetic how I never knew any different. It’s pathetic that I think about Jesse and I would die to be with him, but I’m still wondering if he
is
abusive in some way. I think that’s my biggest fear—that he won’t be what I think he is because I’m blinded by what happened to me. He’s changed for the better. I know he has, but I’m still scared. Then I think of you and how happy I feel when I’m with you. I feel like myself. I’m like that around Jesse too, but I also know him better, been with him longer. I know he has issues and I don’t know how things are going to be with him, but he means so much to me.”

She let go of the bench and sat up. Her face was hot from all the blood running to her head. She was dizzy until Finn turned to her and pulled her into his arms. He held her tightly, saying nothing. She relaxed against him.

“So what I’m trying to say,” she said, resting her cheek on his shoulder, “is that you’re nice and I’m not used to that. Sorry it took so many words.”

He laughed. “And you hope my niceness lasts,” he finished for her.

“Yes.”

“Even when Jesse is free.”

“Yes.”

“And even when you leave to be with him.”

She tried to pull away, but Finn kept a tight hold on her and said, “No, no, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. Don’t get upset. I’m making sure we’re on the same page. You love Jesse, right?”

She opened her mouth, but no words would come. She knew what Finn was trying to do. He knew she was attracted to him. She had told him as much earlier. If she could tell him she loved Jesse while he was holding her, she would know it was true. But was it? She remembered stumbling out of her mother’s SUV as soon as Jesse drove up. She pictured his face, the way he had kissed her and told her he hated the taste of licorice, but kissed her anyway. He had been there for her in a time of her life when she was most vulnerable, most frightened, and most alone.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

This time, when she tried to pull away from Finn, he let her go. She looked at the dimple in his left cheek and the way he trimmed his sideburns a little longer than most men his age. The truth was, all the little things she loved about Jesse were getting smaller in her mind, especially now as she looked at Finn. So she focused on a spot over his shoulder, at a tall tree shading the path winding through the park. She thought about Jesse’s freckles, the small spattering of them across the bridge of his nose, the deep red of his hair. He wasn’t her type, by any means, but it didn’t matter. It was obvious she was physically attracted to Finn as much as she was to Jesse, but there was something deeper about Jesse that made her latch on to him stronger than it had with anyone, even Finn. It likely had to do with the circumstances of their meeting, the amount of time they had shared in so intimate a space, the fact that he had rescued her. There were other things too—his courage to change, the way he read to her from books in such passionate, heart-melting tones, how tangible his love had become for her.

Finally, she looked at Finn. “I do love him. I guess a lot of people might say the
why
and
how
of my love for him is wrong, but I can’t make it go away.”

Picking at a piece of paint peeling from the bench, Finn said, “I can understand that.” He pulled off the strip of paint and tossed it onto the ground. “So we’re on the same page, then? You want to be with Jesse, and this thing between us is just a friendship?”

Naomi nodded, her stomach flipping upside down. “Yeah.”

“I’m cool with that.” Finn smiled, but it looked forced. He stood from the bench and held out his hand to help Naomi to her feet. “I’ll walk you home.”

Naomi took his hand and didn’t let go until he pulled away and pushed both of his hands into his pockets.

XI

“Y
OU DO REALIZE WE'RE NOT MADE OF
money,” her mother said over the phone once Naomi called her and told her about the scholarship. “No matter how much you think your father and I make. Do you have any idea how expensive tuition is at Harvard? It’s not just another penny in the jar. We can afford it, yes, but it will eat into other things—the foundation, for one. We don’t have sponsors with bottomless pockets.” It was the first time Naomi had ever heard her mother talk about money in such a way. “I know, Mom. I’ll pay for it myself, then.”

“With what?”

“The money you’ve put in my account.”

There was a long pause. “That would maybe pay for one semester. Then what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Get a job. Apply for a loan.”

Another pause. Naomi imagined her mother dying of sarcastic laughter on the other end.

“Mom, I know a job wouldn’t cover it all, but if I was trying, you could at least help me. You won’t stop my rent payments or anything, right?” Her throat swelled as she pressed the phone tightly to her ear. She had never once in her life had to worry about money. “Mom, I’m so, so sorry.”

There was silence for a moment, and then her mother sniffed. “We’re not going to cut you off, sweetheart. Of course we’ll keep paying your rent. I’m just ... I’m disappointed. You’ve always kept up your grades. Even when you came home once you were released from the hospital, you did what it took to get your GED. You were a mess and you still graduated with a 4.0.” She stopped, and Naomi imagined her putting a hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand why finding out about Jesse’s parole would have kept you from passing your classes with flying colors, like you always do.”

Naomi wanted to finish the thought for her and say, “Like you always did, huh, Mom?” but she kept her mouth shut.

Silence.

Relaxing her hand on the phone, Naomi stopped pacing her bedroom and sat down at her desk. She ran her finger along the edge of her laptop. “Mom, I—”

“I’ll call the school today and get your tuition paid,” she interrupted. “You focus on getting your grades back up this semester.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“I love you, Naomi, but if you can’t do what it takes at Harvard, we’ll have to figure out something else—as long as you’re relying on us, anyway. We can afford to pay for you to go there, but not if you can’t earn it.”

“I understand.” Again, she thought of USC, but shoved it away. For some terrible reason she couldn’t pinpoint, the thought of studying film somewhere else—anywhere, for that matter—made her want to hurl, but she was too far in to go back now.

“Go register for your classes and please focus on school. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Naomi imagined her mother shaking a finger at her, as if she was a toddler being scolded. But this
was
a scolding, one that stung her to the core. She was getting tired of her mother’s displeasure, even if she deserved it. She had to end the conversation.

“I love you, Mom. I gotta go.”

A long pause. “Alright. Please call me if you need anything ...
anything
... okay? You aren’t alone.”

“I know.”

But she felt alone. She ended the phone call and set her phone on the desk.

F
OR THREE
weeks, Finn came over almost every night for dinner. Naomi started teaching him a few basics. “So you don’t have to survive off ramen noodles,” she said, laughing as she showed him how to cook a hamburger. The next night she showed him how to make baked potatoes, and the night after that, lasagna. Dinner food, breakfast food, it didn’t matter. The list went on and on. When they sat down to eat scrambled eggs with some toast and sliced strawberries, Naomi took a bite and let out a heavy sigh. The eggs were missing something and she had no idea what it was.

“I can never get them right. Not like he did.”

Finn looked up from shoveling the eggs into his mouth. “Like who did? Jesse?”

“No. Eric.”

“Oh.” He finished chewing and swallowed. “It’s interesting how much you care. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She took a long drink of orange juice and then poked at a strawberry with her fork. “Well, I lived with them for almost an entire year. I was never allowed to go anywhere except the backyard, so you can imagine how close I’d get to them, especially when I could see they cared for me. I didn’t think anyone else ever had. My parents were never there for me back home, and Brad was a jerk. My counselor keeps saying people won’t understand. I know she’s right, but thanks for not thinking I’m crazy.” She jabbed the strawberry with her fork and put it in her mouth. “Or maybe you do think I’m crazy.”

“No, I don’t. You feed me, are you kidding?” His smile was warm and sincere. She knew he cared more about her than just for the food she made.

“Well, tomorrow I’ll teach you how to make one of my favorite pasta dishes.”

“Sounds good to me.” He looked up and moved his hand across the table, closer to her. “And I don’t think you’re crazy. I think it’s impressive how deeply you feel for people.”

She looked at his hand and moved hers on top. Touching him made her lips twitch into a smile. She knew she should avoid getting closer to him, but she couldn’t help it. She curled her fingers around his hand, squeezing.

“Thank you, Finn.”

He was still for a moment, and then slipped his hand out from under hers.

T
HAT NIGHT
, they went to the train tracks and listened to the river again. Naomi rested her head on Finn’s shoulder and thought about what she would do when Jesse was free. It was getting more difficult to keep her feelings from slipping into a soft, sweet affection for Finn. Then she realized she had already let them get that way, as if being around him was a security blanket—a way for her to keep warm when the chill all around her was too much. Finn put his arm around her and then quickly removed it. He started talking about how he grew up in New York with his mother and how she was diagnosed with cancer when he graduated from high school.

“She refuses to get chemo,” he explained, “and I support her decision. She wants to live her life until it’s over without all the pain and expense of medical treatments. So far, she’s been fine, living a lot longer than the doctors predicted. She takes care of herself, but she can’t work anymore because it’s too stressful.” He paused. The chirping crickets seemed louder. “So, when she said it was her dream I go to Harvard like she did, I told her Id try.”

Surprised to hear his mother had gone to Harvard too, Naomi almost moved her head from his shoulder. She stayed as still as she could as she asked, “But you haven’t?”

“Not yet. My grades weren’t the best in high school. I’m afraid if I don’t get in, it will hit my mom hard. She can’t have that sort of shock when stress can make things so much worse.”

Naomi stiffened a little as she let that sink in. “So, you’re waiting until she’s ... gone ... or something?”

Finn shifted. “It sounds so bad when you say it that way.”

“Well?” She lifted her head and tried to look him in the eyes, but he kept his focus on the ground. “Finn?”

“She thinks I was accepted and I’m taking classes right now,” he said, kicking at some rocks. “That’s why I can’t move back home. This is such a big deal to her. I’m not sure how I’m going to get accepted.”

“You go see a guidance counselor and ask. I can’t believe you’ve lied to her. You told me to call my parents about the scholarship thing. They’ve paid my tuition and now I’m back in classes. I even filled out the appeal paperwork to try to get the scholarship back, even though I doubt they’ll consider it. Still, I tried. Everything is working out because you pushed me a little to do the right thing. Lying to your mother isn’t the right thing. If she found out, that would hurt her more than knowing you didn’t get in.” She folded her arms. It was much easier to deal with other people’s issues than her own. How easy it was to spit out opinions and advice like a ticket dispenser.

Finn kept kicking at the rocks. “I know, I know. She was so happy when I moved here. She misses me, but she loves that I’m following in her footsteps. I’m her only child, and Dad left her so long ago. I’m all she has to put her hopes on.”

“Then don’t disappoint her in something far bigger than what school you’re going to. There are other universities. Harvard isn’t everything.”

BOOK: Pieces
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