Willow (7 page)

“I noticed you were admiring the Grey Guardian.” He was looking at me as he spoke but glanced in Haven’s direction as a courtesy.

“Yes, I was. Is there a story behind it?”

“I believe there is. A man who works at the bakery a couple of streets over…” He looked at me to see if I understood. When I nodded he continued. “His name is Ben and he painted that portrait. Interesting fellow that one – has a lot of talents.”

“He must, it’s remarkable,” I said in surprise. I didn’t even know that Ben could paint, let alone so brilliantly. If he was this talented, why was he baking? 

“If you want to know the story behind it, Ben is the one to ask,” he said as he picked up my empty plate.

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to ask him when I see him.” I knew that my visit to Ben would be sooner rather than later. I turned to Haven who had stayed silent. “I’m ready if you are,” I suggested.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” He asked as he put his hand on my elbow and helped me to stand. I didn’t need assistance but Haven’s conduct was chivalrous.

“I would.”

He held the door open for me and we walked into the crisp autumn air. While we strolled up the street I admired the various fall decorations on display from bales of hay to pumpkins, scarecrows and orange lights strung in trees. The chilly air was comfortable enough that we could be outside for an hour or two without needing to warm up. I stopped in front of an old bookstore with Halloween themed books stacked and propped up in the window. There were scatterings of candy corn and black plastic spiders. Fake cobwebs hung down from the nook’s ceiling.

I heard Haven chuckle and turned my eyes to see what he was looking at. It was a book about the undead and the cover was overtly romantic, yet dark at the same time. Haven’s brows were lifted and he looked nothing if not amused.

“Not your genre?” I teased.

“Is it yours?” He countered, turning his devilish gaze in my direction.

Enjoying the subtle back and forth I looked up at him and said with a hint of sweetness, “Perhaps you’ll get to know me well enough to know the answer someday.”

“You’re deeper than that,” he stated, tilting his head in the direction of the book. He reached out to stroke a loose tendril of hair that had fallen from my clip. His grin all but disappeared and the electricity around us began to warm me up, flushing my cheeks and causing me to admit that Haven wasn’t the kind of guy I could easily outwit.

We reached the park, which was empty. Haven took my hand in his as we walked. After a while he stopped abruptly. He lifted my left hand and very slowly began to remove my white glove, carefully tugging at each finger until the glove gave way and slipped off my hand. He looked from my eyes to my hand, examining it thoughtfully.

“You have a double life line. That means you have a soul mate or guardian.”

I withdrew my hand from his and examined the line he was referring to. “Do I now? The only soul mate and guardian I have is Pandora.”

He shook his head. “It’s a person.”

I found it difficult to believe him. I didn’t feel attached or particularly close to anyone. All I knew is that he had the ability to make me feel awe, desire, even fear. The range was addictive and I tried to shake it off. I had the strange feeling that if I one day gave in to him, I might never be able to leave; I would give up my freedom to be enslaved by an addiction to the feeling he summoned from me.

I noticed a swing in the distance so I walked over to it. I held the ice cold chains in my hands, all the while wondering why I was so weird. How could I want something so much and fear it at the same time? My back was to him but I could feel him approach. Before I knew what was happening he scooped me up in his arms and placed me on the swing.

“What are you doing?!” I cried.

Haven held the chains above me and leaned down to address me. “You’re too uptight. You need to learn to let go.”

“Let me down!” I demanded.

“Live a little!” He ordered. He gave me a start and I closed my eyes as I began to soar. My thoughts flashed back to my dad and I remembered his smiling face as he pushed me on a swing when I was little. I always knew he would be there to catch me so I had no fear. I remembered the time when he scooped me out of the seat and held me close as I took his face in my small hands and played with his whiskers. He had held me and rocked me back and forth and in that moment time stood still because I had been so content. I opened my eyes mournfully. I looked over my shoulder to see Haven watching me.  Reality was staring right at me. The man who had always been there to catch me was gone and there was another waiting to catch me in his stead.
No!
This can’t be! It’s too soon.

I wasn’t ready. I didn’t think I could let anyone in enough to love them as they deserved. How could I endure further heartbreak when one day they might be gone, too? And then, to my horror, I began to feel nauseous. I had let my mind take control of the moment and what had been meant for fun, I had ruined by letting my memories take over.

“I’m going to be sick,” I called out. I thought I would have time to slow myself down but without hesitation Haven caught me in the air, bringing me to a sudden halt. I jumped off the swing and bolted to some nearby bushes where I purged myself of an excess amount of anxiety, stress, fear and pain. Replacing them was chagrin. I braced my hands on my knees and looked behind me but Haven was turned away. I stood up and realized I didn’t even have water to rinse my mouth out. Aside from feeling embarrassed, I also felt unclean. “I’m ready to go home,” I announced.

Haven looked sympathetic. “Feel better?”

I shook my head and laughed in embarrassment. “That was gross.”

“Nah,” he shrugged. “It was the perfect first date.” He chuckled as he read my expression. “Let’s go,” he said.

“What about your bike?”

“I’ll go back for it, but right now we’re closer to your house.”

While we walked I tried to get our minds off the exhibition I unwillingly gave back at the park. “What do you think about horror novels, like the kind we saw on display at the bookstore?”

“That wasn’t horror,” he corrected. “It was romance.” He looked over and awaited my reply.

I averted my eyes from his and reached into my pocket for a stick of gum. “Well, I don’t want to talk about romance. I want to talk about horror. What do you think about it?”

I offered him some gum but he shook his head. “I think some legends are rooted in fact, not necessarily this one. I think the notion of the undead is popular because so many would love to avoid death.”

I nodded. “Or they would like to be young forever.”

Haven cleared this throat. “Do you think love can be found in something so sinister and unnatural?”

“Love?” I asked. “I don’t know. What’s really sinister?”

“You tell me,” he prodded.

“If monsters existed,” I ventured. “They wouldn’t be unnatural would they? And if they weren’t unnatural, how could they be sinister? Evil is a choice.”

We slowed our pace when we saw the blue trim of Anne’s house emerge in the distance.

“Depends on how these monsters came about,” Haven argued. “Were they born that way or were they cursed? Not everyone can help what they are.”

I lifted my eyebrows and considered that. “I don’t think that being cursed or being born into sin means you have to live that verdict, do you?”

We rounded the corner and stopped in front of Anne’s house. I said nothing more and we stood still as if we were trying to delay the inevitable separation. I needed to go inside and clean up but I also wanted to keep talking, and I could choose only one. I started towards the stairs before turning around. “Thank you. I enjoyed today.”

“This is just the beginning,” he stated matter-of-fact.

“Is that so?”

“I know so,” he answered.

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” I half-smiled and felt flustered so I started to unlock the door when I saw the neighbor’s calico cat approach. She went up to Haven and rubbed up against him. Haven squatted and began to pet the cat. Astonished I put my hands on my hips. “That cat is always so mean. She doesn’t like me. In fact, she always runs off.”

Haven chuckled and looked up at me. “She likes me.”

“Figures,” I stated, shaking my head.

He stood up and watched as I entered the house. I waved at him and he lifted his arm slightly to wave back. I turned for a brief moment to greet Pandora who was sniffing me and whining. When I turned back to look at Haven, he was already gone.

Chapter 12

It was fall break and I was sitting on the porch waiting for Amber. Her mom had given her some money to get some pumpkins and Amber wanted to carve them.  While Tavia and I started out as fast friends, I felt a deeper friendship cultivating with Amber. Amber liked meaningful conversations and I found that quality lacking in a lot of other girls, myself included. It’s hard to open up and be vulnerable to another and Amber had that therapeutic quality about her that drew others in. I knew I could trust her and I hoped she felt the same way about me.

Anne was already gone. She had taken my advice and was going to deliver some cupcakes to Jericho and Reece. She didn’t want to approach Jericho under pretense but I suggested she might want to ask if Reece was available for some work around the house and that asking him might make it easier for her to reach out. I didn’t know if she would follow through with it but I was surprised when I heard her on the phone talking with Jericho. She didn’t sound the least bit nervous to me but when she got off the phone she was almost shaking. “I don’t know how people manage to do this. I wasn’t even asking him out and I was so afraid he would say no.”

“But he didn’t, right?” I said, encouraging her.

“He was shy, but told me he would be happy to see me.” Anne was looking at herself in the mirror, obviously trying to calm her nerves. Her elegant hands were smoothing her rich, auburn hair into place. “I would take you with me for emotional support but I need to do this by myself.” She sounded like a young girl and I found myself reassuring her. “You’ll be fine. He could have said no but he didn’t.”

“He was only being polite,” she suggested, obviously feeling insecure. She turned to face me. “I’m sorry, I sound like a child. You’re right. I’ll be fine. This is nothing to get so tense over. They’re only cupcakes, not a commitment.”

In an effort to keep from giggling I bit my lip.

Anne scooped up her black purse and slipped into some knee-high boots. She grabbed a scarf and headed for the door.

“Have fun,” I called out as she reached for the knob. She turned and winked at me, locking the door behind her.

That was over an hour ago and I was rocking back and forth on the porch swing and breathing in the autumn air. A few minutes later Amber pulled up in her mom’s small four door sedan. I waved at her and saw that she was reaching into her back seat. She seemed to be struggling so I ran down the steps to help her. She put a pumpkin in the passenger seat and got out of the car to reach for the other one.

“Are those big enough?” I laughed.

“They looked smaller among all the others,” she replied while reaching out to me for a quick hug.

With each of us holding a pumpkin we walked up the steps and put them down on a folding table I had set up.

“I’m glad it’s warm enough to do this outside,” Amber remarked.

I agreed and handed her a pen and a bowl and we both sat down facing each other.

“I think I have everything we need,” I said. “Do you want to save the seeds for roasting?”

“That sounds really good,” she replied as she began to draw.

“My aunt has macaroni and cheese in a slow cooker and she set out some iced tea.”

“Any cupcakes?” Amber asked, patting her tummy and smiling.

“Not here but if we get done early enough we can walk to her bakery and get dessert.”

“Works for me!” Amber enthused.

We made small talk as we drew on our pumpkins. I laughed at myself and my sloppy design, which was all too conventional, crooked mouth and all. Amber was far more creative than I was and she began cutting the shape of a moon and a cat into the fleshy round orb in front of her. Once we were satisfied with our work we perched them on the porch and went inside to clean up.

“It smells so good in here,” Amber announced. She looked around and followed me into the kitchen. We washed our hands and took the bowl of seeds and spread them out on the cookie sheet. I set them aside to dry before roasting and retrieved two red bowls from the cabinet. We served ourselves a heaping spoonful of macaroni and cheese and sat down by the bay window. While Amber was waiting for hers to cool, she looked at me thoughtfully.  

“Willow…What do you think of Reece?” She looked down at her bowl, picked up her fork and stirred. “Do you like him?”

I swallowed a forkful of macaroni and took a sip of tea. “Of course I like him. He’s a lot of fun to be around.” Looking up at her I probed, “Do
you
like him?”

She was quick to answer. “I’ve always liked him but he sees me as just a friend and there is nothing I can do about that.” With a resigned expression she looked at me. “He likes you.”

It wasn’t an accusation but I still felt guilty. I thought about arguing but Amber deserved better than being patronized.

After lunch we grabbed our jackets and walked to the bakery. Along the way we talked about Reece and how she had known him since the fifth grade and had most of her classes with him since then. At one time he had been awkward but grew into his looks. Amber said she had loved him no matter what he looked like. She said she remembered Rebecca, Reece’s mother, and that she was pretty and soft-spoken. She was frail in many ways but accompanied her husband everywhere. She said they were in middle school when Reece’s mom died from a brain aneurysm. I thought of Reece and felt so much empathy for him. He had been through a lot...like me.

The bakery was open and Ben emerged from the back room. His skin was rich and dark and he had a beard which was beginning to gray. He also seemed to wear a genuine smile every time I saw him and today was no different.

“Hi girls; are you looking for Anne?”

“No,” I answered before flashing him a smile. “We’re here for sweet treats!”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, gesturing to the cupcake of the day.

“Oh, coconut! That looks really good! I’ll have one of those,” I told him. I turned to see what Amber wanted.

“I think I’ll try the strawberry crème.” She pointed to a cupcake smothered in pink frosting and garnished with edible sugar flowers.

Ben smiled at her and his dark eyes were twinkling. His dry, weathered hands reached inside a glass case and he retrieved the cupcakes while I broached another subject with him.

“Ben, I was at the coffee shop a couple days ago and the gentleman who works there said you had painted one of the portraits that were hanging on the wall...”

He handed the dish to Amber and kept his eyes on me while I talked.

“I never knew you were so talented,” I praised. “I could have stared at that painting all day.”

Ben smiled and rubbed the whiskers on his chin. “Thank you, Willow. It’s a hobby of mine. I’ve been painting since I was a teenager.” He looked out the window towards the direction of the coffee shop while I picked up a fork and started to remove the wrapper from my cupcake. “The man also said there might be a story behind it…” 

Amber had taken a seat behind me and was already eating. She was mindlessly flipping through a magazine but I could tell she was paying attention to my conversation with Ben.