Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
CALLIOPE
I’ve been waiting for a clear day to paint the glider I bought at the flea market and the opportunity finally comes. The base coat of cloudy gray is finished and dry, but the next part may not be as easy as I thought.
When Arlow approaches, I’m happy to set the stencils aside to get the pie he’s coming after. For a little over two months, we’ve been spending time together. On most of the nights that I’m not working, midnight finds me with him, either at the firepit on the hill or lounging on one of our porches. Occasionally, we get high or have a drink. Sometimes we talk until the sky begins to lighten, and sometimes we just relax in silence, enjoying the stars.
“How’s it going?” he asks.
“I think I’ve been too overconfident in my abilities.” I get to my feet, brushing off the seat of my jeans. “I was going to paint some simple vines and use these stencils to add flowers.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I have no talent.”
He snorts out a laugh. “You just need some practice.”
“You didn’t see the part I painted over already. I’m done for today anyway. Silver is supposed to be coming by with someone to snake out my clogged bathtub.” Thunder rumbles in the distance despite the sunny sky. So much for the clear weather forecast. “Will you help me move this to the porch?”
“Of course.” Arlow grabs the opposite end of the glider. Between the two of us, it isn’t heavy, just cumbersome.
“Your pie is on the kitchen table. Blueberry this time.”
“Thank you,” he says, ducking inside to retrieve it. When he returns there’s a tinge of blue on his lips.
“You already took a bite,” I chuckle, sitting down on the top step.
“You have no proof of that.” He takes a seat beside me, scooting the plastic pie carrier away when I reach for it.
Ugh that grin. He’s adorable. All ruggedly scruffy, pretty eyes and white lashes shining in the sun. His hair has grown to just past his ears, giving it that sexy messy look.
A sudden wind strips a few leaves from the tree, and one lands on his head. It sits there like a bird perched in his hair. With a silent chuckle, I pluck it off him, my leg pressing against his. The cute smile that usually appears when he’s amused is nowhere in sight. His lips are slightly parted, and he studies my mouth for a long moment before gradually lifting his eyes to meet mine.
Tiny wings beat inside my chest and my cheeks grow warm under his gaze. Those eyes, my god. So soft but flickering with heat. I can only imagine the passion that lives behind them. He reaches up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear, letting his fingertip trail over the back of my lobe and down my jaw.
Neither of us have the ability to tear our eyes away. My heart is beating a crazy rhythm as I reach up to run my fingers through his scruff, brushing over the white patch. His chest rises with a deep breath at my touch. We’re both caught up in something out of our control, this visceral reaction that separates us from the world and leaves only a desperate desire. His restraint is visible as his throat contracts on a hard swallow. It vanishes the moment I lean in and catch his bottom lip in a tentative kiss.
It's quick, soft, and so sweet, sending an ache through my chest. Before I can put an inch of space between our mouths, he slides his hand behind my neck and pulls me back in. A tiny hum escapes me when his tongue slips in to brush mine, tasting faintly of blueberries. My entire body lights up as he deepens the kiss, and I wrap my arm around him.
Our surroundings fade and time slows, stretching the seconds of pleasure. Oh, he can kiss. I’d be happy to live in this moment forever, consumed by him. We break apart and intense eyes look into mine. As my heartbeat calms, all I see is the same desire he must be witnessing in my gaze.
For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me again. Instead, he takes a deep breath and scrubs his palms over his face, leaving behind an expression that drains any hope that this is going to go well.
“Calliope.” My name comes out with a sigh, dripping with regret. He gets to his feet and steps off the porch into the yard as if he needs to put as much space between us as possible.
My face heats with embarrassment. Did I imagine the way he looked at me or read too much into it? “I’m sorry, I thought you?—”
“Don’t apologize…I got caught up in you—in the moment,” he stutters, correcting himself. “But I can’t.”
This is so awkward and uncomfortable, something I’ve never felt with him. “I understand.” It’s hard to keep the disappointment out of my voice but I do my best. “It’s okay.”
At the sound of a motor, we both turn to see Silver’s truck coming up the driveway, a white van right behind her.
Arlow forces an uneasy smile. “I should go.” He takes a few slow steps. “I’ll see you later.”
“Sure.”
By the time Silver and the plumber’s van park in front of the cabin, he’s almost back to his house. An older guy with wild, curly gray hair approaches with Silver.
“Hey Calli, this is my uncle Lou, the plumber I told you about.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“You too. It’s the tub that’s backed up?” he asks, getting right down to business.
“Yes, I’ve tried one of those plastic zip tools and got some hair out, but it still takes hours to drain.”
He nods and holds up a tool. “Let’s give the drum auger a shot at it. Have you used any caustic liquids? Drain cleaner?”
“No.”
“Good, good,” he mumbles, and follows us inside. Once he’s working, Silver pulls me back out onto my porch.
“Okay, what did we interrupt? You look upset. Are you alright?”
“I’m an idiot,” I sigh, flopping into one of my chairs.
Silver sits across from me. “I’m going to need more information than that.”
“I kissed Arlow.”
Her eyebrows bounce, and she sits up straight. “Oh.”
“He’s so sweet, and the way he looked at me, I thought…” I shake my head. “I was wrong.”
“He didn’t kiss you back?” she suggests softly.
“He did, and it was so good. But it was followed by instant regret, like he suddenly realized what he was doing. We’ve been spending all this time together and I read too much into it, I guess. He was being kind and I thought it was something more.”
“Did he say anything?”
“He said he got caught up in the moment with me. Then he just said he can’t.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, you guys showed up. Good timing, by the way because things were awkward as hell.”
“I’m sorry. Him kissing you back like that, it sounds like he’s into you too. Maybe there’s something else going on with him.”
“Maybe. It doesn’t matter. It isn’t what he wants and that’s okay, but I really hope I haven’t ruined our friendship.”
“I’m sure you can smooth things over if you talk to him and let him know you’re happy staying friends.”
Arlow is reasonable, along with his kind nature. Silver’s right. “I will. I just need a little time for the rejection and embarrassment to fade.”
“You had to try to know,” she points out, then tilts her head, thinking. “Maybe he’s gay.”
“He doesn’t have to be gay to not be interested in me,” I laugh, and she beams.
“Well, you’re hot! Plus, you’re fun and crazy enough to follow the guy into a graveyard, for fuck’s sake. He should be beating down your door for a chance.”
Giggles spill out of me. “At least I know I have one friend.”
“Absolutely. Don’t kiss me, though. I’ve been known to hop over to the other side of the fence, if you know what I mean, but the grass isn’t always greener there either.”
“Don’t worry. I am regrettably only attracted to men. It’s a terrible affliction to be born with.”
She looks across the driveway as if she might be able to see him through his walls. “Good kisser, huh?”
“I guarantee that man is good with his tongue everywhere.”
Talking and laughing with Silver makes me feel better. It’s going to be fine. Stuff like this happens. It was just a kiss.
Silver and I hang out for a little while after her uncle unclogs the drain and leaves. It’s nearing sunset when she takes off to meet her boyfriend. Arlow comes out of his front door when I’m heading inside. It’s the time of night that he’d usually go to the firepit and gesture for me to accompany him, but he doesn’t even glance my way. Instead, he starts through his yard toward the graveyard.
Maybe he wants some solitude tonight. After all, he doesn’t always ask me to go with him. Should I wait? No, I need to get this over with or I’ll procrastinate and make it harder. I’m going to clear the air and then I’ll leave him alone.
He’s out of sight by the time I have my door locked. My steps are hurried along by a rumble of thunder and the increasing wind. If he’s at the firepit, he won’t be there long. I’m in such a rush that I almost don’t see him and pass him by. He’s sitting on his little back porch, his phone to his ear.
With his back to me, I’m not in his field of view but his voice reaches me clearly.
“I’m sorry,” he exclaims, to whoever is on the other end of the call. “I know that doesn’t mean shit, but I am. Every fucking day, Melody, I’m so sorry. I wish I could talk to you, tell you in person. Instead of talking to this fucking machine every time I call.” His angry tone is shocking to hear.
I shouldn’t be listening to this. I need to go, but my legs won’t seem to cooperate. It never occurred to me there was someone else. He’s never mentioned anyone. His tone is sharper and louder than I’ve ever heard it, but it rattles with despair as he hangs his head. “I wish you could forgive me. I’d give anything to go back and change things. Anything to have you back.”
I can’t . His simple declaration makes sense now. He’s heartbroken over an ex, one that won’t speak to him by the sound of it. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have kissed him. Being a rebound is never fun.
“Fuck!” he shouts, tossing his phone aside. It clatters across the porch and topples over the edge into the grass as he lays his head in his hands. His pain is so palpable, it puts a knot in my throat. My first impulse is to go to him, comfort him, but I doubt he wants to see me right now or know what I overheard. Instead, I quietly retreat. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to him. He doesn’t need me propositioning him or pursuing any kind of romance. What he needs is a friend.
Arlow wouldn’t leave my mind last night. The way he kissed me. The agony in his voice later. Both haunted me into my dreams. He’s become important to me, and I need to know things are going to be okay between us.
His truck was gone when I finally dragged myself out of bed and he hasn’t been home all day. To add to my growing anxiety, my phone rings with a call from the private investigator.
“Calli, how are you?” he greets.
“I’m doing fine. Yourself?”
“Can’t complain. I’m calling to ask if your father was known to use any aliases?”
He still hasn’t located him then. My body relaxes with equal parts disappointment and relief. At least it’s not the call I’m dreading. “Not that I know of.”
“Do you recognize the name Harold Raines?”
“That was his brother’s name. He died when I was a kid.”
“Okay. Since you advised us that he usually lives in hotels, we’ve worked our way through them. There are records of him in a few in the city, but nothing for the last two years. The Express Inn on the east side of the city evicted him. A lot of these hotels share a blacklist of those who owe them, and that may have prevented him from getting another room under his real name. There’s a record of a Harold Raines at more than one hotel. The same name could be a coincidence, or he could be using his brother’s name to get a room somewhere.”
“That makes sense.”
“It’s the best lead we have at the moment, but I wanted to check in with you before we pursue it.”
“I appreciate it. Yeah, keep looking. Whatever it takes.”
Not dead, I tell myself after we hang up. My gaze settles on the cardboard urn sitting on the edge of the fireplace mantel. I’m going to find him. I want to tell him Mom’s dead and give him the gift of the same relief I felt when I got that email to pick up her ashes.
The same ashes I can’t seem to get rid of. The urge to snatch it up and go flush them down the toilet hits me, but that’s not something I want to explain if it clogs. Hey, sorry, dumped a bitch in the toilet.
Arlow doesn’t return by the time I leave for work and it’s the longest night ever. Misty was due to work with me, but she calls in sick. Silver is out of town with her boyfriend, and it’s clear Mona is exhausted after working all day.
She’s grateful when I assure her that I can get everything done and I don’t mind doing it alone. Tonight, I prefer it. Ethan is working on prep but once Mona leaves, we both tuck earbuds into our ears and do our own thing. Without the second set of hands, it’s nearly six in the morning by the time I put the last of the donuts in the display case. It feels weird to leave in the daylight.
Arlow’s truck sits in his driveway. There’s no sign of him but I’m not surprised. These are the hours we’re both usually asleep. Talking to him will have to wait. The scent of fresh paint reaches me when I step onto the porch, and I stop in my tracks.
The glider is where I left it, but now green vines climb around the wooden slats. Bright yellow flowers grow along them, and everything is so detailed it looks like you could tug on the vines or pluck one of the flowers. This wasn’t done with any stencil. He said he likes to draw. Scribbles, he called it, but this is beyond talented.
It’s absolutely beautiful.
Tears fill my eyes. I could blame it on the lack of sleep and the long night, but that’s not it. While I was worried that he may not want to be around me anymore, he was spending the night painting this for me. It’s the sweetest thing.
Wiping my eyes, I head inside and crawl into bed, confident that things will be okay. After such a restless night before and a long night at work, I’m asleep as soon as my head touches the pillow.
The grating motor of a chainsaw wakes me, and it takes a few blinks to clear my bleary eyes enough to see the clock. Two in the afternoon. That’s late even for me, but I needed it.
After dragging myself to the kitchen for a coffee, I check my phone to see a text from Mona, thanking me for staying late and telling me that Misty will be in tonight, so I won’t be needed on my scheduled night off.
I need to shower and eat, but instead, I throw on some clothes and follow the sound of the chainsaw. Arlow doesn’t see me at first. He sets the chainsaw aside and loads a chunk of wood into the log splitter. Sweat stains the sides of his shirt and beads on his forehead. No one could blame me for kissing a man who looks this sexy in the heat. I’m only a foot away by the time he notices me.
“Hey,” he says. That deep soft voice seems to reach out and remind me that everything is alright.
“Hi, can you take a break?” He shuts off the splitter and turns to face me. “Someone left a masterpiece on my porch. Any idea who that might’ve been?”
His lips crease into an impish smile. “I didn’t see anyone, but I’ll keep my eye out.”
“Seriously, Arlow, it’s stunning. I love it. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.”
Wetting my lips, I spit out what needs to be said. “Listen, the other night, I misinterpreted things.”
Before I can continue, his eyes land on mine and he shakes his head. “You didn’t misinterpret anything, Calliope.” God, the way my name rolls off his tongue. “I wanted to kiss you, but I shouldn’t have.” His hand travels up to rub the back of his neck and he sighs, looking away. “I’m not in a good place for anything romantic right now.”
“I understand. You don’t owe me any further explanations. It’s not what you want.”
“It’s not what I can have.” Sincerity shines in his eyes when he regards me. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“You didn’t. It was just a kiss. It’s no big deal. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.” There’s no way I’m going to forget a kiss that good, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I don’t want that either.”
“Still friends, then?”
“Of course. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Okay, I’ll let you get back to work.” As I turn to leave, he calls after me.
“Bonfire tonight?”
“Absolutely. I’ll even bring you an apple fritter.”