NEVER GOODBYE (An Albany Boys Novel) (10 page)

‘Loss of hope rather than loss of life is what decides the issues of war. But helplessness induces hopelessness.’

B. H. Liddell Hart

              Cradling Vaun from behind while he weeps silently in my arms is the most intimate act I have ever shared with a single being. We’re in our own bubble of pain, despair, guilt and illness while the world around us tries to carry on.

              I don’t care who is looking. I don’t care what Mary would think if she were to walk out with our coffee and food right now. What I care about is protecting a boy who blames the world and himself for the death of his mother. I want to protect him from that pain, but it’s too late for that now and he needs to feel it. That type of agony will poison you from the inside. I know. I look at my father and I can see what it’s done to him and I’m afraid for my brother if I don’t make it. I’m afraid he will bottle it like Vaun and never come out from it.

              All this pain inside him quakes right through to my soul and I hurt for him and know more strongly at this moment, the one thing I need to protect him from, is me.

              There’s no way in hell I can let him go through the helplessness of watching someone he cares about wither away like the leaves in autumn. Yeah that was poetic, but I feel anything but poetic. I feel the pain and hatred burn at my own helplessness, although I’ve learned to rein it in because it helps no one. Instead I hush him soothingly and let him feel everything. At some point he stops shaking and tucks his face in my neck and my heart skips a little. I swear if this cancer doesn’t kill me, his little touches will.

I can feel his pulse racing against my hand, powerful and faster than mine, as it punches through his skin. He raises a hand and threads his fingers through my hair at the nape of my neck and goosebumps assail me again as he kisses my skin softly. The dampness of his lashes tickle me and I have to fight the urge to squirm. His little kisses trail up my neck to my jaw and there’s that pull in my lower belly again as he breathes against me.

              His lips are at the corner of my mouth and all I need to do is turn my head just a fraction for him to kiss me. He’s waiting for me to decide, to cross the line I drew and want to erase. My heart flutters crazily against his shoulder, almost painfully.

              “Do you mind? This is a public venue,” cracks a furious female voice followed by a loud clank of the plates hitting the table as I swiftly pull from Vaun’s arms. It doesn’t take long before shame and guilt are my best friends.  The guilt is there like a dead weight because after finding out that a life sucking disease took his mother, I know without a doubt I can’t let him watch me do the same. Yet I wasn’t pushing him from me to save him, I was sucking him in. I want to kiss him. I want to feel his hot breath on me and in my mouth. I want that innocent kiss that we shared on the hill in the back of his truck this morning.

              Nonetheless, that isn’t going to happen no matter how much we both desperately want it. Vaun needs freedom from the chains of death and being around me is only anchoring him to the hell he desperately wants freedom from.

              I didn’t get a chance to apologize to Mary before she was gone. What I do is sit back in my chair and distance myself from the only boy who let me feel true and free in a life that feels like a house of cards that are on the verge of tumbling around me.

              Nope, Vaun’s only happy future doesn’t lie with a girl with a looming expiry date.

Vaun reaches for my hand and I … reach for my coffee.

Yes I know … I’m a chicken. A big, fat, selfish, sick chicken.

Vaun

              I don’t know what to say or do. Harper’s eyes are shadowed. It wasn’t there before I told her and I wish I had kept my big trap shut until I could explain it better, in private.

              She’d always carries a ghost of burden in her eyes, but this morning when we were alone in my truck I saw their full light and knew the real Harper. Now, she’s darkened by my fracked up life and I hate myself for dragging her into it.

Who the fuck does that to a person they care about? Assholes, that’s who. I really am my father’s son. He was a curser and Mom hated it, I learned to hate it too, but my anger gets the best of me sometimes.

              Sure, frack was a lame version of the true word and a rip off from a good television series. It irked some folks, yet I don’t care ‘cause Mom preferred it. Just ‘cause she’s in the ground doesn’t mean I should start disregarding her wishes.

              I should let Blue go; she’s clearly struggling with that exact thought. I know flight mode when I see it, it’s my thing. Nevertheless, I know I should, but I can’t let her go. I don’t know this girl’s history, her friends, the secret she carries, but I know
her
.

              “So,” I sniff. “What are
you
thinking?”

              She sips her coffee, eyeing me over the cup and so I do the same even though I don’t feel like drinking or eating now.

              “I’m thinking that my best friend and I have a lot of ghosts to struggle with. Some we can deal, some we need to share and then there are some that we protect each other from. What you just told me needed to be said and I’m going to help you. First though, you need to check our biscuits for loogies because I’m a little scared of Mary’s retaliation.”

              I can’t help the laughter that erupts from deep in my chest. I know she’s making light of the thick tension and I don’t mind. She’s snickering and pushing her plate in my direction, scrunching up her cute little face under all that beautiful hair I still want to wrap my hands in. I know Mary, as much as she is angry for skipping out on her sister after a night of meaningless sex, she wouldn’t spit in anyone’s meal. It’s below her. It was below her sister to have a one night stand, but there’s where the dilemma laid because I wasn’t into relationships and so, when she slept, I did what I did best and skipped out.

              Sure, they knew what I did. I’d been doing it for the last three months since I put my mother to rest, but it was like each one thought they could save me, or I would wake up and see what a wonderful girl they were and end my bed hopping. They thought wrong. I didn’t do it to find a savior; I did it for a distraction.

              Now I know what they wanted, I know what they craved, because I crave it with Harper, my Blue bird. I just wish I was worthy of her.

              “You’re safe. Mary wouldn’t do that. Eat it before it gets cold.”

              “Vaun?”

              “Pass.” Yep I used another one. I used it ‘cause I’m a coward and I could tell by her softened expression that I didn’t want her to say the next words. I don’t know what it was, but I could tell they were going to limit us again and we have enough limitations in our relationship and in our lives. Especially mine.

              “You know you just used your second pass. You only have ten left.” She picks a bit of crispy biscuit, pops it in her mouth and sucks on her finger. Goddamn, if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

              “Yep.” I take a huge bite of mine and chew with a small grin and she giggles. She surprises me when she leans across the table and reaches toward my face and I freeze. With her thumb she wipes a smudge of gravy from the corner of my mouth and holds it up for me to see before bringing it back to her own mouth and sucking on it again.

              Hell no. I was so wrong before because
that
is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and it sure as hell was not what best friends do.

              She then takes a bite of her gravy covered biscuit and silently chews, using the everyday action as a distraction over the sexual tension I swear is about to smother me and scare her.

              I watch as she gazes out the window to the street, watching the folk walk up and down, chatting and shopping. I watch her frown when a mother berates her child over walking too slow. Mrs Palmer, she has six children and no more patience. I can practically see Blue’s mind tick over as she assesses how she would prefer to mother her own child. Which landslides thoughts of the future when she’s settled down and married, what her babies would look like. Brown hair and blue eyes, just like her and a little like me.

             
Whoa
! Where in the hell did that come from? I want her, I feel I need her even. But do I love her? I hardly know enough about her life to say. Do I need to? I feel like I know the real her, what counts.  I love the way she makes me feel and the way she constantly surprises me, but that doesn’t make up what it’s about, right? I don’t know, I’ve never loved anyone but Mom and that’s way different to this.

              I know I would hate to lose her. No, I’d be more effed up than that. It would kill me to see her with another, but is that love?

              Whatever it is between us ― whatever has made me addicted to a perfect stranger; I’m keeping it to myself. What I do know is, I crave for her like nothing else.

              I don’t even taste my food and that sucks ‘cause I normally love their food, but sitting across from Blue has every other sense on high alert and food just doesn’t cut it. I can smell her honey and flowers shampoo and for the life of me I can’t figure out the floral scent. It’s something from the nursery, but I can’t place it. Any second she is going to call me out on my weirdness because I’m taking such huge breaths through my nose that I might end up hyperventilating right in front of her.

              Christ, I’m a pussy.

              “So, you’ll sell yourself for caffeine?” I ask and she turns to me, her eyes wide and amused as I snicker in my seat. “That’s something I’m keeping to myself by the way. I don’t want any of those dirty bastards getting hold of that kind of intel. But what else floats your boat?”

              She swallows her mouthful and eyes my empty plate as she takes a sip of her latte, biding time.

              “Sugar. Chocolate more specifically. And cake. I love cake, too.” She smiles and literally my body is reacting to her smile.

              “Like, any chocolate or covered caramels or toffees?” I ask because I want to get her some now. I’ll buy her truck loads if I have to.

              “No. My favorites are Cherry bars, you know the ones. They’re chocolate on the outside with cherry on the inside. It’s like love wrapped in sweet goodness.” She sighs just thinking about it and I laugh.

              “You’re such a girl.”

              “I know. The thing is, the brand I like is hard to get in Seattle and probably harder to get here in the middle of ... well, the point is I miss them and have to wait until I visit Mom to get some more from the candy store. It’s the only place I can find them. I bought two bags last time I found them and I ate the last of the batch on the move here.”

              I’m pretty sure I know which ones she is referring to and I want to tell her is made about an hour from here, but I think I want to surprise her with that later.

              “What about you?” she asks. “What’s your poison?” She takes another bite of her biscuit and chews.

              “I like cake, too. I like food in general, but if I had to name my favorite I’d say pie. Peach pie, apple pie, it don’t matter. Man, Mom could make a mean apple and berry pie. I haven’t had one of those since …” Her face falls and suddenly so does mine. “Anyway, pie is where you’ll win my heart.”

              “I think it’s only one of the ways, but if someone asks I’ll be sure to let them know.”

              I didn’t miss her silent message. I want to keep her heart and she is willing to pimp mine. She says these things, though her sad eyes say different. There’s something she’s hiding, something that keeps her at war with her heart and I’m going to fix it. That’s my oath to her.

Harper

              I feel the pull that is undeniable and yet I
must
deny it. It’s so hard when it’s something I’ve never felt before and I want it badly. I want it so bad it hurts. But to care about him, to love him as my friend and more, I must also let him go; free him.

              So, in my mind and with a heavy heart I slide him right back into the friend zone and that’s where he has to stay. No more blurred lines, no more play, no more … wishes for a future with him because all of those things he can see. He reads me like an open book and if he can see it he won’t move on.

              “Thanks for breakfast. We probably should get back before Benny’s class finishes so he doesn’t freak out.” His grin shows me he sees through my ‘B.S’ but it doesn’t matter. If anything, it’s better that way. “I also need to get my homework done. I’ve heard Mrs. Holmes has you stand up in front of the class to explain why you haven’t done the work she set out for the weekend. I am not going to be one of her victims.”

              Vaun chuckles and drinks the last of his sweet tea. “I was there last year and it’s not as bad as you think. I had Mrs Holmes blush like crazy when I got up and explained that I got so drunk at Derrick Gooding’s birthday party that I was this close to alcohol poisoning, was missing an eyebrow and all my clothes. I then informed her with a big grin that she was lucky I graced her class with my sexy looks and fashion sense when all I wanted was to do it all again.”

              I can’t help the laugh that bubbles from my throat as I shake my head. “You wanted to repeat the weekend of hell?”

              “Actually, I can’t remember if it was hell ‘cause I can’t remember it at all and, no, I lied my ass off. I had a massive headache, my mouth was like the bottom of an aviary, not a birdcage, a fracken aviary. And did you miss the fact that I was missing one of my eyebrows?”

              I put my hands up in defense, laughing hard. “How could I miss that,” I say eyeing any difference in his brows, trying to figure out which one had been shaved. He raises his hand to his right brow and my laughter grows.