6. Lavender
SIX
lavender
This morning is much like any morning within the past week.
I wake up in the arms of this beautiful man who is holding me tight. We had just made the sweetest love imaginable the night before, so we both slept well and are aching the good ache.
This time, though, we did it in my fancy chalet that I rented. We had been out all night before, dancing at the local bar, drinking a bit, and when we got back, I decided it was my turn to take him home.
After all, I’d been to his cabin a few times within the past week, so it’s only fair. Besides, I should get some use out of it. It’s so expensive, and it feels like a waste every minute I’m not actually inside of it.
I’m up before Hawk, as I usually am. His grip on me is never tight enough that I need to struggle to escape, so I wriggle out of his grasp and head to the bathroom , slipping on a bathrobe this time around. I’d have preferred one of Hawk’s shirts, but given we’re at what’s pretty much my place, I think he needs that shirt to get dressed in.
Life is so unfair sometimes.
Everything about our time together has been great. He’d even already taken me to meet his family, who are just sweethearts, every single one of them. It’s amazing to me that they actually seem to love and care for one another. And support one another, even if they might not agree with it themselves.
It’s everything my family is not.
And it makes me incredibly jealous.
I head into the kitchen, and start to cook up something. I’m the host here, so I kind of take it as my duty. All the times I’d gone over to Hawk’s cabin, he had treated me to breakfast in bed: eggs, bacon, toast, some pancakes, and generally spoiling me the best he could.
I yearn to be a baker, but baking for breakfast is usually something you do beforehand. Not that I don’t know how to cook otherwise. I crack some eggs and start to make some French toast, a recipe I took from one of our house cooks. I had to beg him to teach me how to do it. Retrospectively, I could see why it’d be annoying to teach his client’s teenage daughter how to cook. That wasn’t part of their job description, after all.
But they did it anyway. And I’m glad I can have this excellent recipe whenever I want, and share it with whomever I want.
I start whisking the eggs and thaw out some sausage, wondering if Hawk is one of those types who’d get ornery if his meat didn’t contain real meat. It’d be a good accompaniment for the meal anyhow.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my guest walk into my kitchen, stretching himself out and yawning. “Good morning, love,” he says.
“Good morning, love,” I say right back. I glance over at him. He’s walking around naked as the day he was born, not an ounce of shame inside of him.
I’m not surprised. He didn’t show any when he was walking around his own home, and I guess in this case there’s no reason not to. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, and I quite like seeing him in his birthday suit.
“Where are the towels?” he asks. “Bathroom, I’m guessing?”
“Yes. Probably should make doubly sure. These aren’t my chairs, and it’d be rude to rub ourselves all over them.”
He smirks and lets out a little laugh as he goes to retrieve them before coming back and having a seat. “Not your chairs, you said? Are you renting this place? All the furniture included?”
“Yeah. For the summer.”
He takes in the room. All the fancy paintings on the wall, the luxurious leather couch, the seventy-inch TV in front of it. “And you’re renting this place on the pay of an assistant baker?”
“Well, no,” I say, focusing on mixing my batter. “This is basically a vacation for me.”
“A vacation where you go work part-time at a bakery?”
A moment later, I realize where I just slipped up. “Uh... It’s helping pay for this place, combined with all the money I saved?”
Hawk stares at me, not believing much of what I’m saying.
I’m starting to panic a bit. I don’t like lying. I’ve never liked lying. But I’m worried that if I confess to Hawk that I’m a rich little princess, everything between us will change. I feel like he won’t take me seriously anymore, or worse... it will change how he feels about me.
The truth will come out. It always does. How long can I pretend to be something I’m not?
“Forget I asked,” he says, as he spots the pain in my eyes. “How’s the French toast coming along?”
I tremble, and just try to ignore my secret shame.
It will come out. But at least Hawk isn't trying to force it out of me.
The rest of the preparation goes off without any more awkward questions. Soon, Hawk and I are eating breakfast across from one another, like the half-dozen times we’ve done this before.
“Wow. Did you come up with this recipe yourself?” he asks after wolfing down the meal, sausages and toast equally.
I’m barely even halfway done. I hesitate to answer his question, knowing the truth will bring more explaining than I’m willing to do right now. “A friend gave it to me. I really appreciate it because I make it, like, once per week. At least.”
“You got some talent, though. There’s more to cooking than just following the directions directly. You need to know how to work things right.”
I nod. “I know. It’s why I’m working for Hannah. I’m hoping to learn all sorts of practical baking advice from her.”
“Don’t bakers have a school? With credentials and such? Shouldn’t you go there first?”
I start to chew my food very seriously and slowly as I think of what to say next. “Oh, well, um, I’m looking into that. You gotta apply, and then there’s the tuition.”
Yes, the tuition I clearly can’t afford as I sit in my luxurious, rented chalet and drive my Lamborghini.
Then my top-of-the-line, thousand-dollar cell phone rings. I see who’s calling, and I’m in no rush to pick it up.
“Are... are you going to answer it, or just stare at it?” Hawk says, concerned.
“I... I guess I should.”
I grab it off the table and head into a nearby room away from Hawk.
“Hi, Mom,” I say, dreading the conversation about to occur.
“Lavender, sweetie, are you at your chalet in the mountains right now?” The background noise suggests she’s on speaker phone in her car.
“Um, yes? Why, what’s up?”
“Your father and I are coming to stay with you. We decided we liked your idea of staying in the mountains for the summer. It is much cooler there, is it not?”
I freeze up, more tensely than when I fear Hawk has caught me in a lie. “You can’t come here. You can’t.”
“Why? Is there something wrong, Lavender?”
“No … it’s just I am enjoying my time alone.”
“And don’t’ you want to spend time with your parents? We paid for it, and there is plenty of space there. It was advertised as enough space for ten people.”
“It’s... um... not presentable?”
“How can it not be? We gave you a stipend to hire maid service, Lavender. Are you saying that you failed to do that? How are you even living there without the help?”
I didn’t hire a maid. Because it’s just me and I believed myself capable of cleaning up after just me. “Um, uh, it’s not that. It’s just, uh...”
“Are you having a bunch of guests over already? We told you that you’re not allowed to have any guests over, Lavender. We’re very disappointed in you.”
“Yes, dear, very disappointed,” my father adds, distantly. He’s clearly not paying attention to this call.
“I don’t have a bunch of guests over, Mom. I swear it’s not that.” They said guests, plural. I have one guest. Technically not lying.
“We’re coming, Lavender. And that’s that..”
“Mom, please, I...”
I heard the call drop. She hung up.
She didn’t even have the decency to let me know when they are showing up, so I do the only natural thing.
I panic.
“You need to go, now,” I tell Hawk firmly as I rush past him in the kitchen and toward the bedroom. I gather up his clothes.
“What’s going on?” he asks, following me.
I shove his clothes at him. “I can’t explain. Please, just go. You can’t be here. I don’t know when they’re showing up.”
“Who’s they?”
“My parents! And they said I’m not allowed to have anyone in this chalet with me. Please, just go.”
He’s scrambling to get dressed. He doesn’t understand why, but at least he understands that he has to.
God, what if they see Hawk like this? In this state of undress? They’d immediately assume the worst. That I’m sleeping with some random nobody and probably already pregnant.
“Please, just leave.” I move over to the door and open it for him, gesturing him out.
God, I start to panic about how it could be worse. Knowing how to quickly jump to conclusions were my parents. They might even think Hawk’s some sort of criminal. And they’re too prideful to admit they’re wrong. And they have money to try to prove they’re right when they are wrong.
Hawk starts to move to the door, and there’s concern on his face. No. There’s pain there as well.
“Well, I’ll head out, then,” he says. “I agreed to go help Fox with laying down the foundations for a new home in town anyway.”
“I’m sorry I have to rush you out like this. I’m sorry if this is hurting you, Hawk.”
He takes in a deep breath, and resumes that classic stoicism you see in most men today. The one that masks the pain and hurt. “Well, have a nice day, then.”
He marches out of the cabin, and toward his truck. My heart is heavy as I see him leave. His truck drives down the path away from me, and back to the roads of Evergreen Valley, far away from this touristy mess of an area I’m staying in.
The reality of the gulf between our worlds tears me apart inside.
Hawk? He’s an expert outdoorsman. A well-seasoned and worldly man who knows a little bit of everything. He’s firmly rooted in his community, well-known and respected. I’m sure he has dozens of girls in this town yearning for a date with him, and he has the pick of the litter.
He deserves more than me. Some rich girl with a mess of problems who can’t even get a modicum of control in her life.
Maybe it's best if I delete his number from my phone and should never talk to him again.
The thought terrifies me. I want him. I need him.
He doesn’t need me.
Tears stream down my face.
What the hell do I do with my life?