Chapter Twenty-One
Ihad the strangest dream Friday night. Jonathan, Collin and I were at the cliffs, like we are every summer.
Then it became just Jonathan and me, and we were kissing.
When I pulled away, his dad was standing over us, which freaked me out.
I stood, and I was alone with Hal. He looked so angry.
Almost disgusted. In the distance, my dad was running down the path, trying to get to me.
I felt this sudden spike of fear, like something awful was about to happen.
Just before my father reached me, hands shoved me off the cliff.
As I fell backward, it wasn’t Hal watching me fall. It was Jonathan.
The falling sensation woke me. My heart racing. The Maiden’s words dancing in my head: “You are the only one who can see the truth.”
Even though the details of the dream, more like nightmare, faded throughout the day, the feel of it stayed with me.
I couldn’t shake the fear and dread that felt like stones in the pit of my stomach.
By the time I pull down Jonathan’s long, dirt driveway and park in front of the house Saturday evening, I’m so anxious, I have the hiccups.
I rarely get them anymore. I’ve been practicing breathing techniques to keep calm, especially before performing. Not today. At the absolute worst time.
I was just here last week, but I was too distracted by Jonathan’s appearance to take notice of much else.
Now, I stare up at the looming two-story home with the wide stone steps that lead to a porch running the length of the house.
The house I’ve never stepped inside all the years we’ve been friends.
I draw in a deep breath just as a hiccup violently rattles my ribs.
The wood-framed home with its stone foundation blends into the encroaching forest. Multiple eaves, nearly as tall as the surrounding trees, cast a long shadow across the front lawn—daring me to enter.
Warm amber light seeps through the windows beneath the main peak, and the soft Wedgewood blue trim invites me closer despite the home’s vast, intimidating presence.
I close my eyes, take another deep breath, holding it and… hiccup. I groan. I try again. My chest immediately spasms.
The passenger door opens and closes. I can sense Jonathan sliding onto the seat beside me. I open my eyes as soon as another hiccup overtakes me. I give him a pitiful look. He hands me a bottle of water.
“I had a feeling,” he says. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous too.”
The thing is, I wasn’t nervous. Not until my dad insisted I drive myself after telling me all of that horrible stuff about Hal—like he was afraid to let me come here.
The nightmare didn’t help either. And knowing Jonathan can barely talk about his father, I can’t imagine how the two of them will be in a room together.
“Why are you nervous?” I ask after another hiccup.
“I’ve never had anyone over before.”
“No one? Not even Collin?”
Jonathan shakes his head. “He works for my dad, but doesn’t hang out here. We always go to his house.” He looks down at his hands. A hiccup fills the silence. “I’ve never wanted anyone here… especially when he’s home.”
I hiccup. “That’s not helping,” I tell him, opening the bottle of water.
“Sorry.” He sighs. “Want me to walk you through it?” I nod. He has this method that always works, no matter how bad my spasms are. “Breathe all the way in. All the way out. In again, big and deep. All the way out. Now drink… one, two, three, four, five.”
I pull the bottle of water away from my lips and breathe slowly. Waiting.
“Gone?” he asks.
I nod, relieved. “Thank you.”
“Ready to go in?”
I was about to ask him the same thing. He offers a weak smile.
“I think so.” I try to appear braver than I feel. “It’ll be okay. No matter what. Because—”
“I love you,” he says, setting a gentle kiss on my lips.
My heart hiccups in my chest. “That too,” I say in a soft murmur.
A knock on the passenger window causes us to jump apart.
Ryan, Jonathan’s ten-year-old brother, is standing on the other side of his door.
His face is upturned, like he’s looking at the dark sky, purposely avoiding us.
He probably saw us kiss, too embarrassed to look in the car now.
“What are you doing? Dad’s asking where you are. ”
Jonathan shoots me a grimace. I take a breath, pleading with my body not to start hiccupping again. We exit the car.
“Ryan, this is Sadie.”
“Yeah, I know,” he replies like it’s the most obvious thing ever. Then quickly corrects his response after Jonathan gives him a raise of a brow. “Nice to meet you.”
I smile. “Nice to meet you too, Ryan.” I don’t know what else to say. I’m just as uncomfortable as a ten-year-old, apparently. Jonathan takes my hand, and we follow Ryan inside.
I tend to think a home reflects the people living in it—this may be because I have an interior designer for a mother. Our home has a… presence. Everything in its place. Curated and pristine. Until you get to my room anyway.
Collin’s house is a bit chaotic but comfortable.
Mail and keys on the entry table. Bags of chips and bowls of fruit on the counter.
Blankets tossed on the back of the couch.
Shoes kicked off wherever they land. There’s an easiness to his home that always makes me feel welcome. Like it’s our home too.
Jonathan’s is… crafted. Like it’s ready for a photo shoot in some architectural magazine.
White rocking chairs sit on the wide porch with pumpkins and corn stalks on either side of the entrance.
The entry opens into a lofted family room with a stone fireplace, the chimney the central focus—built with the same rounded grey stones as the foundation.
An iron chandelier floats in the middle of the room.
The rooms on the second floor jut out over the porch, and an open reading nook sits above the entrance.
It has the feel of a high-end lodge with its honey-colored walls and exposed beams. The furniture is worn leather and heavy wood.
It has the same bigger-than-life, intimidating effect that the outside does. Like Hal.
Jonathan’s mother walks out of an arched entry that must lead to the kitchen. She sets a tray of drinks on a coffee table constructed from different shades of wood, reminiscent of the interlocked pieces of a Jenga tower.
“Hi, Sadie. I’m so happy you’re here. Would you like some cider? The mugs are warm, and the glasses are cold.”
“Um, thanks,” I say, shedding my coat. Jonathan takes it and hangs it on a rack by the door.
“Your home is incredible.” I strain my neck to take it all in.
The wraparound walkway on the second level leads to closed doors.
Family pictures hang with precision along the perimeter.
I want to inspect them, to see Jonathan at different ages, but this probably isn’t the time to do that.
Instead, I pick up a warm mug of cider, garnished with a cinnamon stick.
“There you are,” Hal announces, his voice bouncing off the floor-to-ceiling glass entrance.
He shuts a door behind him off the upstairs landing.
“Thought you were going to stay in the car all night. I hope you’re not afraid of us.
” He laughs boisterously as he stomps down the stairs.
“Welcome!” He splays his arms like I’ve entered the kingdom he proudly reigns over.
“Sorry about that,” I say, biting my lip. “I get the hiccups sometimes, and I wanted to get rid of them before coming in.”
“That’s understandable,” Samantha says with a sympathetic smile. “Hal, don’t give her a hard time. We want her to come back.”
“Aw, she can handle it. Can’t you, Sadie? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be with Jonathan, would you?”
I think he’s teasing, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. I smile awkwardly. “I can handle it.” A strong hand folds into mine, squeezing. I glance up at Jonathan. He’s not smiling. His father smirks back.
“This is the perfect time to put the burgers on, Hal,” Samantha says, her voice light, the perfect note to break the showdown. “The potatoes are nearly done. Jonathan, I could use your help with the salad. And, Ryan, please set the table.”
I follow them into the kitchen. This is Samantha’s influence with its bright white cabinets, herb-and-floral tiled backsplash and marble countertops.
It’s big and inviting. On the far side of the kitchen, another archway reveals a long, beautiful wooden table with an autumnal centerpiece, surrounded by gourds and mini pumpkins.
The light and airy feminine touches are a vast contrast to the heavy and darker tones of the grand room.
Hal exits onto the porch on the back side of the house, where a covered platter of burgers sits next to a grill.
“Is there something I can do?” I offer, watching Jonathan rinse the lettuce. A smile teases at my lips. I can’t help it. Seeing him helping his mom is… well, adorable. He glances at me and gives me a questioning grin. I shake my head dismissively.
“Would you mind bringing these out to Hal?” Samantha hands me a package of buns and a deli bag of cheese.
“Sure.”
When I step outside, I’m overtaken by a shiver. Hal doesn’t seem bothered by the brisk fall air in his flannel shirt and jeans.
“Thank you,” he says when I set the buns on the table beside him. “Hope you like burgers. Thought it would be a good break from holiday leftovers.”
“I do.” I look around the backyard. There’s a covered in-ground pool, surrounded by a black iron fence, and a basketball court on the far side of the house. “I didn’t realize you had a pool.”
“How do you think Jonathan learned to swim?” Hal chuckles. “That boy was in the water before he could walk. Knew he had a gift for it a long time ago. He’s determined, like me. Won’t let anything get in his way when he’s focused on something.”