19. Harper
19
A t dinner, I reluctantly slid into a chair that Troy held out for me, far too aware that August was on the other side of the table.
It was for the best, I wasn't sure how much more of his dark gazes and coolness I could handle tonight.
Robert Hartman talked about the weather and the fuss about a hurricane coming. Troy talked about hockey and how much he disliked and disagreed with certain teammates.
And August, was quiet for the most part.
“August, what do you do?” I asked from across the table.
“Oh you know, math stuff.” He shrugged.
His tone startled me, but not enough to back down. “You play a sport?”
Those intense eyes flickered back to me. “No.”
“August played hockey back in college, but his life was suits and dollar signs,” Troy offered.
“I just prefer a quieter life,” August corrected.
I blinked. “You didn’t seem very quiet on those calls.”
Troy clapped and laughed while Robert released a low chuckle. “I like her.”
Dropping his gaze to his potatoes, August’s jaw locked before he spoke. “It can be frustrating dealing with people. What about you?”
“I’m a barista,” I said with confidence that could kill knowing how he felt about it.
“What else?” he asked sharply.
“That’s all.” I shrugged.
He narrowed his gaze but didn’t say anything.
“Well, what did you go to school for Harper?” Grace asked.
“I studied art and science.”
“What’s that?” Robert asked.
“I specifically studied social sciences and fine arts, like graphic design.”
“And now you’re serving people coffee?” Robert asked, but it was August’s features I was honed in on.
“Yep.” I knew I was enjoying it too much, but getting a reaction out of him was like pulling teeth and I needed something.
August dropped his fork. “Troy, didn’t you say Harper did something else?”
“What? No, I didn't."
"In the car ," he gritted.
"Oh yeah, Dad. That picture on page four of this week’s Lineup, that was Harper.”
I had to fight from rolling my eyes.
Robert jerked. “You don’t say. Harper, takin’ after your dad?”
I grinned. “Yeah, if I can.”
“Well, what’s the issue?”
“The team is only interested in…well, they don’t want me.”
“But they used your work,” Mr. Hartman argued.
“As long as it wasn’t signed by a girl, sure.”
“What?” Grace shrieked.
“It’s fine. That’s why Frankie and I were there last night. We’re hoping to get something we can—”
“Something you plan to sign this time?” August snipped.
Everyone at the table turned to him and I answered softly. “Yes.”
Another roll of thunder and the rain started coming down hard.
There was still silence over the tension across the table, so I started to gather my plate and utensils. “It’s getting dark. I should be going soon.”
“Oh, let’s wait until it slows down a bit.” Grace’s worried voice released my shoulders. I’d forgotten the ability of a mother’s voice to do that.
No matter how bad things were.
Robert stood, clearing his plate and peeking out the window on his way to the sink. “I don’t think so, Gracie. It’s pretty dark, and some roads may already be flooded.”
Grace reached over and touched my knee. “Well then you’ll just have to stay here for the night. Or the weekend, who knows?” Grace seemed too excited. “I’ll start the popcorn.”
Troy turned to me. “Mom insists on movie nights when the whole family’s here.”
Family.
The word made my chest ache. I wasn’t family, and the urgency to leave grew strong. “Oh no, I’ll be fine. I’ve honestly driven in worse.”
“Sit. Dad’s right, it’s not safe. You’ll stay here.” My eyes flicked to August’s sharp tone.
Troy stood leisurely, clearing his plate and mine. It hadn’t occurred to me until now that Troy hadn’t made much eye contact with me all night. “Stay, Harp. It’s Mom’s turn to pick the movie, so I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll go grab you some things. There’s a guest room down here with a private bathroom. We’ll get you comfortable.”
Wow. His sincerity surprised me. And made me smile. It had been a long time since Troy Hartman made me smile. He disappeared up the stairs and I helped clear the table.
“We’ll need to put the shutters up next door,” Robert mumbled. Something was clearly distracting him all night. “You boys going to take care of that?”
“What’s next door?” I asked.
“It’s like a pool house, except we don’t have a pool here, so it’s used as an extension to our house,” August said, sounding human again.
“We use it as a guest house when we have parties or family staying from out of town,” Grace added. “It’s a God-awful mess right now, but wouldn’t want the windows blowing in.”
“Yeah, Dad, Troy and I will take care of it.”
“Well, I forfeit my turn to pick the movie. Harper what do you like? Whatever it is, the boys will find it.”
“I have no preference, just nothing scary.”
Troy returned, moving to my side with some clothes. “Tomorrow’s Halloween. I think scary would be appropriate.” He handed me a clean hoodie that looked oddly familiar. I eyed it, twisting the fabric to see the logo.
“It’s our old high school hockey sweatshirt.” He shrugged. “Not like you’ve never worn it before.”
I was surprised he remembered. I’d worn it once. When half the team and a few cheerleaders went to hang out by the lake, and it was cold.
I wondered how many other girls had worn this same sweatshirt and wanted to shove it back into his chest.
But when August’s cool expression focused on anything but me, I simply smiled at my old boyfriend.
“Lovely. Thank you. And how about… Night Before Halloween ?”
Yeah, I was being spiteful. Two can play, August.
Troy fist-pumped the air at my movie choice. “That’s the spirit.” He put an arm around me and I fought to stay still. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay close for the scary parts.”
I chuckled softly until I caught him glance over at August, whose jaw was tight as he passed us, moving all the shutters from the storage room to the back door.
“August, will you watch with us?” I asked.
“No thanks.” His response was fast and his eyes on the task at hand. “This might take me a while since I’m clearly doing it myself.”
I stepped away from Troy’s hold, feeling unmotivated for a movie suddenly. “I don’t know if I should be watching either. I need to detail my sketches before Monday.”
“Well, it’s still early. Why don’t you work on that while the boys work next door and we’ll start the movie in about an hour?”
I nodded.
“Fine. Let’s do this.” Troy sighed and followed August out into the rain.
August hadn’t joined us for the movie. He’d walked in a few times, his eyes brushing past Troy and me sitting side by side on one end of the sofa while his parents were on the other. Though Grace kept running to the kitchen during the freakier parts of the movie—which was most of it. Needless to say, a movie with my ex-boyfriend and his scary father was not the least bit enjoyable.
It was close to eleven when I settled back into the bed of the guest room downstairs. Everyone else had gone up except for August, who seemed to be in and out of the house. He was clearly still working on something.
And if I were honest, being alone with him was frightening me more than any Halloween movie, so I didn’t step out of the room.
Choosing to focus on my sketches, I sat up against the headboard in the pumpkin spice scented guest room—where the sheets were floral and the décor perfectly mismatched. It had been a while since anything felt homey to me. This was as close as it got in almost two years.
After my mother’s illness took a turn for the worse, there was a dark cloud over our house and it didn’t feel much like a home anymore.
I started outlining the fan signs and detailing the words that I’d scribbled before. Number nineteen’s face was turned away from the frame and toward the audience holding up the cheer signs. I shaded in the number on the back of his jersey and jumped when there was a knock on my door, which was slightly ajar.
August.
He was in the same clothes and his eyeglasses still on, but they had streaks of water on them and his hair was wet from the rain.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just thought…” He glanced down at my sketch pad and walked in.
I moved off the bed and stood. My jeans were off and Troy’s sweatshirt hung to the top of my bare thighs.
His eyes roamed upward until he met my eyes. “I thought you might be more comfortable upstairs. My room is the third door on the left. It gets cold down here at night. I don’t mind switching with you.”
I smiled up at him, tugging at the hem of my borrowed clothes. “Thank you, I’m alright here.”
He waited, taking a deep breath as if he needed to say something else. Then finally nodded. “If you need anything. That’s where I’ll be.”
It was impossible to concentrate on anything after August left my room. All the lights went out and the rain had finally stopped, but I knew it was temporary. It was supposed to rain all night.
Sleep was indeed out of the question between the howling wind, the movie, and thoughts of August and how on earth I was going to fix this mess, I’d allowed us both to make.
Unable to stay put, I stepped out to the kitchen and started the kettle. The clock on the stove read just after midnight and I was anything but tired.
The back porch light was on and I wondered if it was on purpose. Peeking out, I caught glimpses of the strong ocean waves. Perhaps a closer peek at the loud angry swooshing against the shore was exactly what I needed to wash away this growing ache.
I didn’t bother with my jeans, but I threw on my trench coat and boots and took my hot cup of tea out on the porch with me.
The wind blew against my bare ankles and face, but I went toward it regardless and closed the door behind me softly. Sipping on my tea, I enjoyed the sound of the waves, but my legs were freezing.
Still, when would I get to enjoy something like this again? I loved the city. But living by a beach seemed like a dream. Waking up to a rhythm of waves instead of car traffic and city buzz.
Looking to my left, I spotted lights in the guest house. There was a wood-planked walkway from the porch leading to the other house and I followed it until I reached the back door of the small structure.
The lights were dim and warm. The décor was cozy with throw blankets and pillows scattered between two small sofas. A wooden coffee table that looked like it was homemade had stacks of various magazines from home improvement to sports.
I went into the small bedroom, where there was a modest full-sized bed, an armchair and a single window overlooking the beach. It was quiet other than the pattering of the rain, but it wasn’t coming from the window or the roof. Turning, I realized the shower was running behind a closed door.
Suddenly panicked, I moved to the doorway, ready to leave, until I noticed August’s clothes laid out on the bed.