7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
For all her sharp edges and hard lines, Katy has the most innocent eyes. They’re almost childlike, filled with wonder, begging to be awed.
I can’t say there’s much impressive about me, but I’m no slouch in the kitchen. Maybe a warm, homemade meal will fill not only her stomach but the other emptiness she carries.
“Give me a reason not to leave.” Her tone is as daring as ever.
I tie an apron around my waist. “I’m going to make you dinner.”
She slings her arms in front of her chest. “And risk having you poison me?”
My response is unfurling her arms from in front of her chest, sliding my hand to hers, and drawing her away from the door. She inhales sharply and hitches her breath whether because of my audacity or touch, I’m not sure.
“Prepare to be amazed.” I can’t suppress my grin, but it’s not gloating, it’s more like genuine.
“Don’t look at me like that. You risk getting my hopes up.”
Would that be so bad? Can I trust myself not to let her down this time?
If anyone were listening in, they’d think she’s referring to the meal. But I know better. I’ve been around the Fisks enough to have seen how it works—even though, at the time, I bought into their lowlife hype.
“Is getting your hopes up a problem?”
“Of course it is!”
My voice is low, filled with remorse, when I say, “I’d ask who did this to you, but I know the answer.”
Her breath catches, but she smooths it out to avoid being vulnerable. I tuck a piece of sun-bleached hair behind her ear then lean in and kiss her on each cheek the way my grandmother used to.
She softens and then stiffens as if remembering to be on guard. “Why’d you do that?”
“I’m Italian. Welcome to Cucina Ferrara ,” I say with a flourish.
“That doesn’t mean you know how to cook.”
I chuckle. “Yes, it does. It’s a factory, default setting. Plus, there are probably a lot of things you don’t know about me, Katy.” With a slight limp from the jellyfish sting, I cross the room to the refrigerator and take out some fresh pasta my sister gave me, eggs, cream, cheese, and a few other ingredients.
Katy leans against the doorjamb. “Like what?”
“Sit down. I’ll tell you.” Ordinarily, those words would sound like an order, but I soften them for Katy.
She steps closer to the table, which is progress.
I brush by her to the cabinet. A ripple runs through me, originating where she’d gripped my foot and shooting north, through my chest, and landing in my mind, making a connection that I’ve been hesitant to acknowledge. But when I do, a fire burns through me, reminding me of when we were young and all I wanted was her attention.
I didn’t know how to get it so I behaved like a Fisk, or as my mother said, misbehaved.
“At least let me help,” she offers, not used to being given anything, no less a warm meal.
My lips hitch with a half-smile. “Only if you promise to listen.”
“Believe it or not, I know how to follow rules.”
“That’s not what I meant.” I turn off the water and put the pot on the stove to boil. Stepping closer to her, I say, “I meant listen to what I have to say. One thing that you don’t know about me is back in high school I was failing.”
The corner of her mouth pinches. “That was common knowledge what with the detentions, trips to the principal’s office, and general truancy.”
I chop garlic and have her pluck basil leaves from the branch. “For the record, two years into the army, I wrote Mr. Lyons a letter of apology.”
“How mature of you.” She shaves the parmesan cheese.
I sauté the garlic and onion, filling the kitchen with the scent of home. “I mean that back then, I was failing to do the right thing.”
“Are we keeping score? I’m a big disappointment in a long line of disappointments. I don’t even know how to cook.”
“I can teach you. And you can show me how to bake.”
She takes a long pause as if contemplating this in a way she wouldn’t if I were anyone else. “That can be our cover story for our fake relationship. We fell in love over food.”
I do my best to ignore the pretend part of that comment while I toss the pasta with the impromptu sauce and make us each a plate.
The kitchen is cozy and our knees bump when we sit at the table, littered with jars of glitter, school glue, an Army action figure, and Avery’s half-eaten bag of popcorn.
No sooner do we dig in, than the song “Love at the Crossroads” comes through the speakers. It’s by a local band called the Thunderbirds who used to play at beach bashes and got fairly famous.
Without hesitating, Katy gets up and stabs my phone, turning it off.
“Hey, that was one of my favorite songs. Why’d you turn it off?”
The look she gives me would torch a lesser man—one who hasn’t been humbled and prepared to say he’s sorry. I have to clear the air with Katy no matter what it takes. I’m no longer the loser she once knew. We’re both different now.
I remember our first kiss while those lyrics about speeding wildly into love chorused in the background.
She edges toward the door. “Thanks for dinner. I really should go.”
“You didn’t finish eating.”
“Is eating everything on my plate a rule in the Rocco household?”
“No, the rule is hearing my apology.”
She eyes her plate. With a shrug and a snort, she sits down like she needs this moment of contrition as much as me. She repeats, “An apology? That’s on both of us. We were awful to each other. I’m sorry I pushed you away.”
“Do you mean when you heard about the ring and then went on a date with Bryce?”
“It wasn’t a date. I asked if I could borrow his history notes.”
“He didn’t take notes.”
“Still, it worked. You left town without asking me to marry you. Back then, I wanted the promise but was afraid of the commitment.” The fire in her eyes flickers. It’s not so much destructive as it is warming, but I get what she means. She was as afraid as I was.
“And now?” I ask.
“I’m no longer scared.”
“You were the bravest girl I knew back then.”
She shakes her head. “No, I was a great big fear sponge. I just made it seem like I was pumice and not foam.”
I chuckle and then focus on Katy, wanting to be sure she truly hears me. “You weren’t wrong to be wary. I wasn’t a good guy back then. I’m sorry that I lied and got intense with the ring, then took off.”
She lets out a heavy exhale. “Apology accepted.”
“Funny how I left without looking back and the first thing I saw was my first and only true love’s backside while she tried to escape through the window.”
Her expression falters and her eyes grow. “I needed fresh air.” Twisting pasta around her fork, she whispers, “I can’t believe you witnessed that.”
“Couldn’t miss you in those cutoffs and in that pink T-shirt.”
She shifts uncomfortably. “I was?—”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I do. I want to.” On an exhale, voice as husky as ever, she says, “I was afraid by seeing you again, I was going to remember what I wanted beyond the life that I created here. That I’d regress and slip back into who I was when we were?—”
My pulse thunders through my chest, wanting to reach across the table. “Your life now seems like a good one.” I want to add that I’m grateful she let me be part of it but don’t want to spook her.
“It is a good life, but it’s missing one thing. It’s the one thing that scares me most, that makes me fear I’ll be abandoned so I avoid it at all costs.”
I nod, knowing she means love. “I was the loser son and never wanted to come back, thought I’d fall into my old ways too.”
“You did steal my dog.”
“Liberated.”
“Potatoes poh-tah-toes .”
We both laugh, lightening up the moment.
“I want you to trust me, Katy. I want to prove to you that I’m still me but a new and updated version. Can we call a truce?”
She nods slowly as if checking and double-checking my every word. “We can on one condition. We never forget how to have fun.”
“That’s what we did best, though we might have to make some modifications to remain within the bounds of the law.”
“Potatoes, poh-tah-toes ,” she repeats and then adds, “Popcorn.” She abruptly extends her hand and picks something up off the table. Before I realize what’s happening, I’m being bombed by popcorn kernels.
I happen to be exceptional at dodging enemy fire and do so by catching the popcorn in my mouth.
“Hey, no fair.” Katy throws more popcorn at me, nonetheless.
“All’s fair in love and war,” I reply, reaching for my weapon of choice: glitter.
But before I attack, Katy falls into my arms. A rush burns through me that’s better than skydiving, surfing, stealing, or any other high-adrenaline activity I’ve been party to.
“Is it tactically wise to protect the enemy?” Looking up at me through her long lashes, our gazes lock.
My voice is rough when I ask, “Who said you’re the enemy?”
She shuffles back, breaking my hold, and turns abruptly, putting her dish in the sink. “It’s getting late. I have a date tomorrow?—”
I go still. “I thought we were fake dating.”
“I meant a date with my surfboard.” She hastily clears the table.
“Leave this. I’ll clean it up. It’ll give me something to do.”
“While you’re supposed to be resting your foot?” Her hand lands on her hip and she cocks it.
Taking her fingers in mine, I say, “Will you rest with me outside?”
Lengthening her spine, Katy playfully salutes me. “I hope you mean to be at ease, soldier.”
“Just stay a little longer, please,” I emphasize the last part.
“Fine. We can talk about our fake dating arrangement,” she says.
My chest twists because I want to eliminate one word from that sentence.
I open the big window that leads to an abutment. It’s barely enough for two people to sit, but the view of the ocean in the distance is the first thing I noticed about this second-floor sublet and have been wanting to come out here.
Even though I know Katy is beyond capable, I hold my hand out for her to take. She slides her palm into mine. Once we’re both outside, I don’t let go.
“We never held hands,” I blurt.
“We didn’t have what I would’ve called an affectionate, well, whatever our relationship was.”
“Hook up,” I state the painful reality. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel cheap.”
“So far life hasn’t given me any free gifts with purchase, so I don’t expect a grand prize.”
“But you deserve one.”
“The hard truth is no one deserves anything.”
“You’re right. We’re not entitled to anything, but I failed you, Katy.”
“You don’t owe me.”
The idea I had a while ago pops back into my mind, complete with sparkles and ice cream. I tuck it in my back pocket and will have to consult my partners in crime.
“Geena jokes that the kids and I are as thick as thieves. They’ve taught me a lot.”
“I bet it will be hard to say goodbye at the end of the summer.”
She has no idea. “The original plan was to help my sister until school starts. George will also be back for an extended period during the late fall in time for the baby.”
“It was good of you to come. A brother helping another and all that.”
The possibility of me leaving dangles from the rooftop, making the shadows long as the sun sinks in a blaze, setting the water on fire.
“I’ve been trying to be a better person. Do the right thing. I didn’t imagine the fiercely independent motorcycle-riding girl from high school would still be here and be even more beautiful than ever.”
Her head jerks toward mine as if shocked I had the audacity to say that. “I meant to leave here, but?—”
“I’m glad you didn’t.”
“So you can feel better about your life choices?” she snaps as if putting up one more fight because it’s the only thing she’s ever known.
“Katy, I think we’re beyond the antagonism. Remember the truce? Yes, I had a bad reputation back then, but?—”
“You and my father both.”
“I thought I proved that I changed. For one, I don’t run with motorcycle gangs and I’m not in prison.”
She lets out a long breath as if releasing something she’s been gripping. “You’re right. You also no longer wear dark blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and black engineer boots.”
“I traded that in for a uniform.”
“Thank you for your service.”
“I still do have a pair of board shorts and I’m thinking of adding to the collection.” Meaning maybe I’ll stay in Palisade Shores.
“I never saw you down at the beach unless you were stirring up trouble.”
“That was your territory.”
“My happy place.”
“Somehow trouble usually found me and believe it or not, it was never my intention to bring it to your doorstep...or your wave.”
“Do you still have your motorcycle?” she asks.
“Nope. Do you?”
“Yep, and I can probably do something about that if you ever want to go for a ride. I have my dad’s old Darkhorse. It’s probably lonely.”
“I couldn’t ride the boss’s chopper.”
“It’s not like he’s going to while he serves a life sentence.”
I wince, realizing that as amazing as Tootsie is, she’s also turning ninety. Joey is useless and only replied to Katy’s texts about Tugger with a thumbs up. She hardly has a family.
“You were wrong before,” I say.
She balks.
I squeeze her hand in mine, never wanting to let go. “You deserve a lot of things. Things I want to give you.”
“Start with convincing my grandmother we’re dating,” she says.
“In that case, we should practice,” I reply.
Her eyes float to mine, then flicker in the dusky night.
I ask, “But that also begs the question: what have we been doing the last month, moving into each other’s lives, spending time together, walking the dog, staying up late chatting, texting...”
The wind musses Katy’s hair and I smooth a piece from in front of her face.
She gazes toward the ocean. “Back then you were so tempting. I should’ve known better.”
“And you weren’t?”
“I wasn’t what?” she asks.
“Tempting. You were the bad girl. Unpredictable, rebellious. I could go on...”
She tips her head from side to side. “True. I’m surprised we graduated.”
Once more, she detours the conversation away from the direction I’m trying to take it—forward. Meanwhile, she keeps drawing us back as if afraid that if we try for a future, she’ll be let down again
“We made quite the pair. Huh? Kids, don’t follow our example,” I say offhandedly. Thankfully, they’re at home, tucked in, and probably having happy dreams.
“Or do because it seems like you’ve redeemed yourself. It looks like you’ve done some good in this world and for your family. That’s admirable. Honorable.”
“So you really, truly forgive me?” I ask, preparing to launch us forward.
Katy starts to crawl back through the window. Glancing over her shoulder, she says, “Yes. I do and I should go because I won’t forgive myself if I don’t hit the waves tomorrow morning.”
“Let me walk you home.”
She doesn’t say no.
The street is quiet and the moonlight dances through the whispering palm fronds, casting shadows and light on the sidewalk. In the distance, the rrp, rrp, roll of a skateboard sliding down the pavement echoes, the crickets sing, and laughter from someone’s backyard aglow with tiki torches makes me feel more at home than I ever have.
Maybe I don’t hate Palisade Shores as much as I thought. Maybe I love Katy more.
I yawn and reach around to put my arm across her shoulders as we walk.
She glances up at me in question or approval, I’m not sure.
I shrug. “Thought you might be cold.”
She bumps me with her hip but remains in my loose embrace as we continue to walk, chatting about late nights on these same streets but with an entirely different agenda.
I wanted to kiss her then as much as now, but everything that came before and after was definitely to be kept from the cops.
“You’ve changed in a lot of ways too, but you’re also still mysterious, defiant, independent, daring, confident, charming, adventurous, unconventional, and irresistible,” I say.
We cross the street by the repair shop.
“Careful. Rocco. It almost sounds as if you like that about me. Could be risky.”
She’s right. Above all, this is dangerous. “What if I wanted to live on the edge?”
“You’re wearing your let’s cause trouble grin.”
“Don’t know what you mean. Spend more time here...with you.”
Katy wears a reluctant smile. “For you to leave again, eventually?"
“What if I stayed?”
Her eyes shine with a hope that she barely lets herself feel, but I see the little beacon that’s as much for me as it is for her.
Yes, I want this. Us.
She asks, “Would you though?”
We stop and I wrap my arms around her waist, drawing her to me. We hug like two people who know this is goodbye.
Only . . . it’s not.
“Looking back. I had to leave and join the army. I’m only sorry I left you so abruptly. This is what I should’ve done.” I continue to hold her, a promise not to let go again.
She leans into the embrace and I breathe in her coconut scent, feeling like I’ve finally found my way home.
Eventually, I ease back, capturing Katy’s gaze so she can see my eyes too. “We’ve both been through hard things. Maybe we can be brave about this together.”
The space between us closes inch by hesitant inch. It’s like tourists visiting the coast and testing to see how cold or inviting the water is. But when our mouths meet, it turns out, it’s not cold or at all. No, it’s like a warm welcome.
Welcome home to the place I belong.
With this woman in my arms.
Who I know and love.
I feel her lips trembling slightly against mine as if she’s fighting against a voice in her head, a sensation in her body ordering her not to trust me.
But I won’t do anything to violate that again. I won’t turn my back. I won’t run away. No, I rush into the kiss, closer to her. Holding tight with another promise not to let go.
She melts slightly, laying down her defensive weapons as the kiss continues, picking up where we left off, with a certain level of comfort and daring, because that’s who we were.
Both remain, yet there’s also a new confidence and boldness in the give and take. I want to offer the former more than the latter for the first time in my life.
Warmth floods through me, a surge of desire so true and pure, that it could only belong to one woman. I’m all hers. I’ll do anything for her.
My hands haven’t moved from around her waist, but hers drift from their place on my jaw, keeping control over the situation. They move down to my shoulders before she lets them drape around my neck, giving over to trust, as she curls into the kiss.
I lose focus because now there are no barriers from the past between us and the kiss deepens, giving me hope for our future.