Bittersweet Symphony (The Damaged Souls series Book 2) (13 page)

“Tell him about the FaceTime conversation you had recently,” Marty prodded, knowing that Trevor and Heather would see it as a big deal. Sure enough, he propped his head on his hand, like he was getting ready to watch a movie or something. I wouldn’t have put it past him to cook some popcorn—something to snack on as he listened.

Asshole.

“Did something happen?” Concern flooded my mother’s features. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

If I thought I could get away with it, I would’ve wrapped my hand around Marty’s neck and squeezed for making her worry.

Clearing my throat, I took another sip of water, the liquid cool as I swallowed. “Don’t listen to him, Mom. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“What wasn’t?” I now had my dad’s complete attention as well.

“Yes, tell us,” Marty pushed. I made a mental note to kick his ass the second we left.

Shrugging, I tapped my fingers against the side of the glass, tracing my finger through the condensation beads on the surface. “I was over at Caylee’s the other day when her parents called her.” I threw Marty another sharp glare. “They wanted to hear about her good news and I got to finally meet them.”

The kitchen exploded in excited chatter—everyone speaking at once and over each other.

“Tell me everything!” my mom gushed, hands clenched to her chest. I wasn’t quite sure how she was imagining the conversation, but hoped it wouldn’t disappoint.

“Yes, how were they? Were they nice? Did they like you?” Marty threw in, knowing full well that they had because he’d not only gotten a blow-by-blow play back from Rebecca, but I’d also given a few details when he’d asked.

Mom slapped Marty with the towel like she couldn’t believe it was even a possibility. “What a silly question, Martin! I’m sure they loved him.” She peered at me cautiously. “They did, didn’t they?”

My father laughed as I squirmed in my seat, and set my foot on the wooden rung again. “Don’t keep your mother in suspense, Coop. It’s best for everyone if you simply tell her whatever she wants to know.”

“They did. They were pretty cool and not at all how I thought they’d be. You know, with Owen and . . . everything.” So much was contained in that one word—everything. It held a wealth of emotion and memories.

“Good.” Nodding, my mother’s lips pursed, like she was desperately trying not to ask the hundreds of questions I was sure were bouncing around in her head. “I know you were worried. If it helps, we adore Caylee. I’m sure they’re grateful to see their daughter happy and in a wonderful relationship.”

Eggshells. We were all walking carefully over them.

“Tell them who else you got to speak with,” Marty pushed, a smug look on his face. “And how much fun it was.”

Again, her face clouded over. “What’s he talking about, honey?”

“You’re a dick,” I fired at Marty, not caring that my comment would probably get me in trouble with my mom. I was a grown man and all, but she was still a stickler for manners. “Nothing bad happened. Promise. Toward the end of the conversation, Caylee’s brother showed up. You know how older siblings are. He thought he needed to give me . . .
the talk
.” I bent my fingers in the air like a quote.

“Ahhh.” Dad chuckled and took another pull from the bottle. “Been there. Done that. I’m pretty sure there’s a t-shirt somewhere in storage.”

The glance shared between my parents was one I’d witnessed many times growing up—the briefest of moments where they silently exchanged some memory only they knew about.

It was no secret that when my dad had gone over to ask her parents permission to marry, that they had raked him over the proverbial coals—all but checking his teeth to ensure he came from good stock. It had all been done in jest—my grandparents had instantly approved of their future son-in-law—but it didn’t stop the stories from being talked about all these years later. And each time, they got bigger, and grander, and more twisted than before.

The memory made me chuckle. “Roman pretty much did the same thing. He threatened to hunt me down and beat me within an inch of my life if I ever hurt his sister. Talked about her honor and virtue. At one point, I half expected him to demand my medical records and a vial of my blood.” As crazy as it sounded, it had been Caylee’s brother who helped me let go of any apprehension about whether or not I’d be accepted.

It also let me know that, should Caylee and I get more serious and committed, I’d be gaining another brother.

Fuck. When did I start thinking about the
M
word? I wasn’t convinced we were ready to discuss marriage, but that didn’t stop the idea from flitting about in my head.

Or the way my heart kind of raced a little faster at the thought of her being mine forever.

“I’m glad it went okay, son.” Dad saluted me with his half empty beer bottle. I leaned over and clinked my glass to his drink. “Congratulation on surviving the all important milestone.”

“Yes, you’re one step closer to receiving a beautifully crafted ball and chain, buddy. Inscribed with your name and everything.”

My dad didn’t even skip a beat. “And when will we be hearing about you meeting Rebecca’s parents?”

Marty’s reaction was hilarious as his face drained of color. His mouth flapped open like a fish on dry land. He was good with making fun of others . . . not so good when the shoe was on the other foot.

“Well,” he spluttered, tugging at his shirt’s collar, even though it wasn’t in any way tight. “I . . .”

“Leave him be, Trevor,” my mom interrupted, plates in her hand. “Dinner’s almost ready so help set the table, all of you. There’ll be plenty of time afterward to rake Marty over the coals about his love life.”

Grateful for the brief reprieve, all conversation was abandoned as the delicious smells of a home cooked meal wafted over us.

This is what I want with Caylee
. I walked into the kitchen to grab the utensils before returning to watch those I loved most in the world do their assigned tasks before we all sat around the dining table.

Family.

Our family.

“Can you say grace tonight, sweetheart?” The request was directed at me.

Bowing my head, I mumbled the words I’d memorized since childhood—offering a short thanks for the food before saying a soft amen.

It wasn’t much, but it was as honest as I could be.

One thing was for sure, however.

My gratitude was real.

I had a lot to be thankful for.

Chapter Fourteen

Caylee

“I think this is the one,” I hollered, giving myself one last look in the changing room’s mirror. It had only taken hours of searching the different stores in town, but our perseverance had paid off.

Or should I say, Rebecca’s.

Damn, that girl knew how to shop.

“I get veto power, remember. So, until you come out here and let me see, this is just one of many possibilities.” She’d been relentless all afternoon—determined that I would be the belle of the award ceremony.

Ever since receiving the good news a few weeks ago, we’d been in Operation Perfect Dress mode. There wasn’t an outlet store or boutique within a thirty-mile radius we hadn’t scoured faithfully.

It didn’t matter that I had a closet at home with perfectly adequate outfits—any of them fine for the school event where I’d be presented officially with my scholarship and certificate of receipt. In my mind, I was partial to wearing a pair of jeans with a glittery top—one that I’d worn often to Cooper’s band gigs.

The look of sheer horror and disbelief on my roommate’s face when I’d pulled a few hangers out had sealed my fate. I couldn’t be trusted with something as simple of picking my own clothes.

It wasn’t enough to look good, she’d retorted matter-of-factly. I had to dazzle like the brightest star in the night sky—basking in the brilliance that was my awesomeness . . . her words, not mine.

So entrusting my almost maxed-out credit card to her, I’d patiently let myself be led about from store to store.

But this dress had my name written all over it.

Giving myself another glance in the mirror, I couldn’t help appreciating the way it hugged my curves and flattered my frame. Even Rebecca had to admit this was the one.

“Okay, coming out,” I answered, emerging into the smaller waiting area. There was the briefest glimpse of barely restrained boredom before she whooped out loud and jumped to her feet excitedly.

Rebecca’s eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh. My. Gosh.”  And then she stopped talking and stalked around me in silence. I recognized the move as the one she did whenever she was closely scrutinizing something.

Crossing my fingers, I hoped the dress withstood her inspection because I’d be damned if I was going to traipse through any more shops today. Scratch that . . . at all.

It was either this dress or I’d go naked.

At least I knew Cooper would appreciate the later.

“Caylee,” she drawled, finally coming to stop and cocking her hip to the side. Her slender finger tapped gently against her lips. “I think . . .” It was everything I could do not to yell at her when she squinted, like altering her vision would somehow reveal something hidden. “This is the one.”

The exhalation of breath was loud and explosive. “Thank goodness!”

We both gazed at the mirror’s reflection as I twisted and turned to get different angles.

The dress was gorgeous and exactly the kind of style I liked. At first, the black material looked like lace, but it was in fact crocheted. The spaces between stitches, the pattern in the design, allowed a white slip to peek through underneath. My favorite part, other than the capped sleeves and the way it sat right above my knee, was the bold red sash and bow that tied around my waistline. It gave it the perfect amount of pop and, as Rebecca emphatically declared, the outfit would keep everyone’s eyes on me.

That last thought was almost enough for me to retreat back in the changing room and return the dress to the rack. Attention made me feel a little awkward and uncomfortable. It always had. After losing Owen, it made it even more unbearable.

I’d become the poor wife.

The focus of the small town I grew up in’s gossip mill—where well-intended people’s hopes to help and somehow make things better repeatedly dredged up painful memories.

It was part of why I’d escaped there and ran away to attend Black Canyon University. It was far enough away where the only things people knew about me were what I chose to disclose.

There was something to be said for anonymity.

It had been exactly what I needed—until I’d met Cooper, and obviously, my fabulous roommate. I honestly had no idea how I ever lived without them.

Steeling my spine, I nodded and grazed my hands down over my body, smoothing out the fabric. I loved everything about this dress.

“I’m thinking I can borrow those shoes you wore the other week . . . the black straps with the low heel.”

“Um, no. Absolutely not. You need height.” Rebecca got that
don’t argue with me
expression I’d learned not to ignore.

Unfortunately, there was no way I’d be walking in front of people, climbing up onto a stage, in anything that made me walk like a newborn fawn.

“I don’t think the occasion calls for hooker heels, bestie.” And just because I could, I decided to have a little fun at her expense. “Actually, I kinda like how my Converse look with the dress.” To add insult to injury, I lifted my foot somewhat, like I was truly considering it.

“It’s like I don’t even know you!” Rebecca exclaimed, indignant. “Why don’t you continue in your heathen ways and wear your jeans and tank top? Next, you’ll be telling me you refuse to shave.” She wiggled her finger up and down as she dropped back onto the uncomfortable chair she’d been sitting on. You’d have thought I’d told her I loathed cute cat videos or, heaven forbid, her beloved
Stephen Amell
.

I couldn’t stop from smirking. “Anyone ever tell you that you can be overly dramatic sometimes?” Turning my back on her so she could huff to herself, Rebecca mumbled under her breath about how frustrating it was living with someone who was challenged like me. That’s when I knew I’d be leaving today with the dress. “Okay, we can negotiate on the shoes. Just promise me you’ll remember that not everyone can be graceful strutting about in five inch heels.”

Rebecca popped up behind me, back in control of her theatrics as she grinned victoriously. I guess shopping with me could be compared to going into battle. Stubborn by nature, it was hard for me to let go of control—even over something as simple as clothes.

“Deal!”

“Let me get out of this so I can pay for it. Then let’s celebrate by doing something fun . . . maybe a movie?” I asked, knowing full well there were a few she’d been raving about since they released.

Hopefully, once filled with delicious buttery popcorn and content after watching her favorite actors for a couple of hours, she would soften her up to idea of me wearing flats. She could bedazzle the damn things, if needed.

All I wanted was to ensure I didn’t fall flat on my face in front of students, guests, and school staff.

So when she glared at me shrewdly, warning bells began obnoxiously ringing inside my head. “Sure . . . we just have one more stop before we can call today’s expedition a success and Operation Perfect Dress complete.”

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever came out of her mouth next. “Rebecca . . .”

“Trust me, you’re going to agree.” Again, she gave me the once over, like she shared Superman’s ability of x-ray vision. Part of me wanted to cover my body with my arms protectively.

“Seriously. I think we’re done,” I started, scrambling to come up with a defense to whatever plan was hatching in that evil head of hers.

“You’re going to look like a million bucks, Caylee. So much so that your boring white bra and granny panties seem sacrilegious . . . a crime even!” Her voice rose, causing other shoppers to turn in our direction. If I didn’t diffuse this quickly, I had no doubt she’d drag them into the conversation and ask them to weigh in on the matter. She’d done it before, much to my mortification and horror.

That was the
last
thing I needed—strangers debating my underwear and it’s lack of sex appeal.

“Fine. If I agree, will you finally quit treating me like your personal Barbie doll?” I tried to sound put out, but she knew the truth. I was having fun . . . in a weird, masochistic sort of way.

“Absolutely. I’ll hand you back the reins.” As an added reassurance, Rebecca raised her hand up to beside her ear. “Scouts promise.”

“First of all, you were never a Girl Guide.” With two fingers showing, I continued. “And, secondly, why is it so important? It’s not as if anyone at the ceremony will be able to see what lingerie I’m wearing. Does it really matter?”

Disappointed Rebecca was back. “You have so much to learn, my young
Padawan
.” It was a testament to her sincerity that she didn’t stop to explain her
Star Wars
reference. I probably would’ve shocked her into an early heart attack, anyway. I may not share in her level of geekiness and ability to churn out constant pop culture references, but I at least knew some things. It just looked incredibly pitiful against her prowess in all things fandoms. “Besides, who said the sexy lingerie was for those attending the ceremony?” A slow grin crossed her features.

“And who pray tell is it for then?”

“Cooper.”

The thought and images that flooded my mind made me blush as if I’d been dropped into the middle of Hell naked.

“Then by all means, lead the way.”

****

There was no doubt in my mind that, when the professional photo of me shaking hands with the university dean and accepting my certificate was printed, everyone would also see the overwhelming relief blazing from my eyes.

My nightmare of tripping and looking like a fool hadn’t become a reality. It was just a few more smiles and the short walk back to the row where Cooper and everyone was sitting in, and I could call tonight a success.

Even when Rebecca hollered out, followed closely by Marty’s whistling his support, I didn’t stumble. It seemed silly to feel victorious over something as basic as walking, but nerves made even the steadiest of people look like drunken flamingos trying their best to stand.

Truth be told, I was a mess right up to the second I made eye contact with Cooper. He’d been my rock—the reason why the few short sentences I’d mumbled into the microphone as a thank-you sounded somewhat intelligent. As I spoke a little from my heart and about what I’d written, I’d kept my eyes locked with his, tuning out everyone else and the way my heart kept thundering inside my chest. When my voice had cracked at the mention of Owen and how I knew he’d be proud of my decision to go to school, it had been enough.

With a quick head nod, I’d brushed aside the tears that fell and posed for the photo. If anything, it would be a great keepsake to send home to my parents; they bragged about the Wall of Caylee they had set up in the living room so this would be another framed image to add to their growing collection.

It made me feel good knowing that I was surrounded by such a supportive group of family and friends.

Right now, all I could think about was getting back to my chair, slipping my hand into Cooper’s and releasing the pent up breath I’d been holding.

“Congratulations, Ms. Sawyer,” Dean Ford whispered, pride reflecting from his wizened face. With the lights shining down on us, he resembled my grandfather, which was why I didn’t hold back when I threw my arms around him for an impromptu hug.

That resulted in another round of yells and applause from the peanut gallery calling out my name. If I weren’t so blissfully happy, I’d have killed them when I finally slid in beside them.

“Seriously, was all that noise really necessary?” I chuckled, grateful it was over. I noted after a quick peek at the cream-colored program that there was still at least thirty minutes left.

The three of them had something planned, but despite all my best efforts and methods of coercion, none of them had confessed their big secret.

Shaking her hands in the air like she was at some rave party dancing, Rebecca mouthed my name again. “Did you really expect us to sit here silently while the rest of the room got to witness how brilliant you are?”

Marty leaned around his girlfriend. “It’s not like you don’t live with her. You had to know our Rebecca does
nothing
quietly.”

Shivers skated across my skin as Cooper grabbed my hand and raised it to his lips. “Have I told you how proud I am of you, sweetheart?” When his gaze dropped to my throat, my hand involuntarily touched his surprise gift.

They say the way to a girl’s heart was via pretty sparkly things. I didn’t think I was one who could be dazzled by jewelry, but he’d proven me wrong when he’d asked me to turn around before we left the house earlier.

The moment the light strands rested against my throat, butterflies had fluttered—different from the swarm of bees that had been buzzing all day prior to the ceremony.

With small, circular diamonds spaced out over the dainty gold chain, it was impossible to ignore the larger, more focal stone that graced the middle of the necklace. Cut with precision, it reflected twinkles with each twist and turn I made.

But that wasn’t what made me love it so passionately.

No, it was the words Cooper uttered as he fastened the clasp. He spun me gently around so he could melt my heart, while his finger touched the chain ever so softly.