Geronimo (A Songbird Novel) (10 page)

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

Harry

 

 

We spent the weekend in bed aside from Sunday afternoon when we did some grocery shopping. Our clothes were on the floor as soon as we’d finished unpacking the refrigerated goods.

Jane left for work on Monday morning, and I opened my laptop and cracked on with it. The week ticked by in a happy kind of rhythm that was both comfortable and exciting.

Working in her apartment felt much like working at Nan’s house. I blasted my music, drowned in a sea of websites, and was the happiest I’d been in years.

Yeah, even happier than when I’d been with Tammy. I loved that woman with all my heart, but I couldn’t give her what she wanted, and it made our little house a tense place some days. I had every excuse in the world—we’re too young to get married, there’s nothing wrong with living together, marriage doesn’t last, why taint what we have with wedding rings?

I’d been a self-centered, scared fool.

It wasn’t until she was gone that I realized that marriage wouldn’t have changed what we’d had. If anything, it would have made it better, because Tammy would have been happy. I’d loved her like a husband loved a wife. I just hadn’t wanted to label it that way. Just because her parents had been happily wed didn’t mean mine had.

Rubbing my forehead, I pushed thoughts of my dad aside and squinted at the screen. A mild headache was kicking in. Jane’s dining room table wasn’t exactly set up ergonomically like my place was. I’d have to be careful and monitor my neck and shoulder pain.

I stood tall and did a few stretches, then checked the time. Jane would be finishing work in a couple of hours. The last few nights, she’d stayed after the final bell to do marking then wandered in the door around five thirty, pretty exhausted. I’d cooked dinner for her and massaged her feet, listened to her talk about a problem girl in her class and the stress over trying to help her. I could do it again if she needed me to, but I thought it was about time we had a little fun.

Closing my laptop, I spun on my heel and started searching her apartment for the Life List. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she hadn’t added to it once since leaving England. That would not do. It was a list night; I could feel it in my bones.

Rummaging through her drawers—yes, it felt a little weird, but I hoped she’d understand that my intentions were pure—I came across a framed photo of Jane with her arms wrapped around a handsome-looking guy with shoulder-length hair. He was grinning at the camera while she smiled up at him. A green emerald glinted on her ring finger. Scowling at the image, I threw it back in the drawer. What kind of idiot turned his back on a girl like Jane? I didn’t know what happened to him, but the fact he wasn’t around told me how blind he must have been.

I crossed to her nightstand and glanced at the guitar against the wall. Maybe I was wrong. You didn’t treasure an object like that unless the person you’d loved was gone for good.

My insides twisted into a tight, sickening knot, fueling my determination to give Jane another night of happiness. Lifting the stack of books beside her phone charger, I unearthed the list. It swooped to the floor and landed against my foot.

“There you are.”

I noticed that she hadn’t added anything new, although
unchecked joy
had been crossed off. I didn’t remember what that one was.

Uncapping the first pen I could find, I laid the paper flat and added another thing to the list. I then folded the sheet and slid it into my back pocket.

It took me ten more minutes and two phone calls to get myself ready, and then I was out the door. I was giddy with triumph by the time I pulled the rental car into the Strantham Academy lot. Students were dribbling out the doorway as they made their way to the bus, the waiting cars, or the walk home.

I bustled through the traffic, the only fish swimming upstream. By the time I reached Jane’s classroom, the student body had thinned to a trickle and I was able to hop around a little guy with a big mouth and his basketball-bouncing friend.

Jane’s voice reached me before I saw her. I slowed my steps and listened in.

“Brandy, I’m really happy that you’re no longer destroying school property, but you can’t spend the rest of this year doodling on a notepad. I need some work out of you, sweetie.”

Her kind words were met with a disgruntled huff.

My forehead wrinkled, and I softly stepped into the doorway so I could see what this Brandy looked like. She was short with long, dark locks that reached nearly to her hips. Her face was round, her skin olive, and she had these brown, haunted eyes that made my heart squeeze with sympathy. You didn’t have to hear her speak to know she was a lost kid, hiding her hurt behind a fragile wall of anger. I knew. I used to be just like her.

Jane bit her lips together, obviously striving for calm. “Listen, I know things are difficult right now. I know you’re sick of hearing me say that. But, come on, wasting your time here? You’re only hurting yourself. And failing school will not help you achieve whatever it is you’re trying to achieve. All I’m asking for is a little effort. Show me what you’re capable of.”

“I don’t care about school. I don’t want to put in any effort, don’t you get that?”

“Well, what do you care about?”

“Nothing!” Her voice pitched high, the anguish on her face making my heart bleed.

I stepped into the room, alerting them both to my presence. I wanted to grin and wink at Jane’s surprise, but I kept my eyes trained on Brandy. Giving her a kind smile, I wagged my finger at her and said, “Now, I don’t know if that’s true.”

 

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

Jane

 

 

Brandy’s lip curled as my heart started pounding. What was Harry doing? I had to tread carefully with this girl. I couldn’t have him making things worse.

I ran my hand across my throat, silently telling him to stop, but he ignored me, sliding his hands into his pockets and giving Brandy a charming smile.

“I don’t know anyone who cares about nothing.”

Brandy scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever, man.”

Her gaze then shot to me, and she gave me a quick
who the hell is this guy
kind of look. But then he started talking again, stealing her attention with a gentle confession.

“You know, I was eight when my dad took off. No word, no note, just left us high and dry. Mum was forced back to work so she could support us, and then she had this mental breakdown. My nan had to come and take care of us. It was a really shit time.”

My eyes bulged as he swore in front of my student, but it was kind of fitting. My heart ached for him as I pictured little eight-year-old Harry trying to work it all out.

“I don’t remember everything, but I do remember being filled with this constant rage. I just wanted to find my dad and beat the living crap out of him.”

Brandy snickered, the edge of her mouth curling into a rare smile.

“I mean, I guess I still loved him and all that, but I was hurt and Mum was depressed and my family just was falling apart.”

“So, what’d you do?” Brandy asked.

“Well, I tried beating the crap out of one of the kids at school instead.”

“You get in trouble?”

“Yeah, suspended and then grounded for like a month. But it was good.”

“Good?” Brandy gave him a skeptical frown.

“Yeah, well, being stuck up in my room gave me time to get it out. At first I tried punching pillows, but it wasn’t that satisfying. I wanted to see Dad’s face when I told him what a loser he was. Then I’d punch him and watch him bleed.”

I swallowed, my throat swelling with emotion as I saw a flash of the little boy he once was.

“So, I decided to draw it. I drew picture after picture of me beating my dad down, telling him everything he’d done to our family. I made them like comic strips and told the story the way I wanted it done.”

Brandy had gone still, her narrow glare giving way to open interest. “You draw?”

“Yeah.” Harry grinned.

“You any good at it?”

He scratched the side of his nose, his smile humble. “My mum thinks so.”

Brandy gave him a skeptical,
you’re pathetic
kind of frown, which only made him laugh. Pulling out his phone, he showed her some of the artwork he’d shown me in Europe. Stuff he’d drawn and designed for his job, plus a few images of his niece and nephews. They were done in the Marvel Comics kind of style.

Brandy leaned across to look more closely at the phone, her eyebrows rising. “You did that?”

“Yeah. Bet it’s not as good as yours though.” Harry slid his phone away and lifted his chin at her bag. “Come on, give us a look.”

Biting the edge of her lip, she unzipped her bag and pulled out a notepad, one I hadn’t seen before. Harry flipped open the cardboard cover and gazed down at the first image. His face rose with a smile that told me he recognized whatever emotion Brandy had put on the page. Bobbing his head, he kept looking through, his voice rich with praise.

“These are really good.”

Her lips twitched with a smile, showing off a small dimple on her left cheek.

Slapping the notepad shut, Harry passed it back and crossed his arms. “Tell you what, my little artist. Scratch your homework for tonight. Probably boring as hell anyway. Instead, I want you to draw whatever it is that’s going in there.” He pointed to her head. “And there.” He pointed to her heart. “You get it out and onto paper. Trust me, it works.” He winked and she gave him a full-blown smile—dimples and white teeth included.

Turning back to me with an awed grin, she shoved her notepad back into her bag and zipped it closed. “Is that cool with you, Miss B?”

I smiled. “Yeah, that’s cool with me. And I’ll make sure it’s cool with your other teachers too.”

Her eyes shone with gratitude, and then she waved and walked out of the room.

All I could do was blink at her as she disappeared into the hallway.

“How did you do that?” I nearly laughed, stepping across to Harry and wrapping my arms around his neck. “She smiled! A real smile!”

I pulled away from him and grinned at the bashful smirk on his face. “She just needs to tap into something that inspires her. As soon as I heard you say doodling, I felt like I was looking at a younger version of myself.”

“I never knew that about your dad. I’m sorry.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s okay. Mum found her way, and then Dad came back. She refused to take him into her home again, but they’ve got this weird kind of friendship going on now.”

“Why’d he leave?”

“Midlife crisis. It took him nearly five years to figure that out, and then another three to win us all over. Persistence pays, I suppose.”

“That must have been a really tough time for you guys. I never knew.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot we don’t know about each other, Janey.” He ran a finger down my face, silently asking for something from me.

I gave him a hesitant smile and backed out of the embrace. “So, tell me why I have the pleasure of your company a few hours early today.”

“Well…” He pulled a sheet of paper of out his pocket. “I hope you don’t mind, but I found your list beside the bed and thought it was about time we added something new.”

Taking the sheet off him, I glanced at the bottom and read:
go for a sexy drive to watch the sunset.

I nodded, my eyebrows rising as I laughed. “What’s a sexy drive?”

Pulling the keys out of his pocket, he jiggled them in the air. “I can tell you right now, it’s not a Bambino, so just calm down.”

I snorted and covered my mouth, my shoulders already shaking with laughter.

“Come on. Let me show you.” He gathered up my bag and waited for me to slide my computer into the back pouch before carrying it outside for me. “But, seriously, before you get too excited, I know a motorbike would have been the coolest, sexiest thing I could find, but I’m not a huge fan.”

I gripped his arm, hiding my emotion behind a smile. “Me neither.”

“Good.”

We strolled through the main entrance. Harry made Gabby blush with a wink and a smile. She gave me a double thumbs-up as I walked out of school earlier than I ever had before.

“Okay, close your eyes.” Harry stepped behind me, covering my eyes with his hand.

We shuffled forward together, his long body guiding me. I’d never enjoyed walking blind. Surprises weren’t my forte, but Harry’s excitement was stirring mine, and by the time we stopped I was nearly giddy.

Opening my eyes, I let out a little squeal and jumped on the spot as I took in the red Corvette convertible. Harry was right. That beautiful machine screamed sexy.

“Can I drive?”

“Of course you can.” He threw me the keys and walked me around to the driver’s side. Acting like the gentleman he was, he opened the door for me, then ambled to the other side and vaulted in without opening his door.

“All right, my sexy little redhead. Take me somewhere magical.” He pointed at me. “And your apartment doesn’t count. I mean somewhere
else
magic.”

I started the engine and gave him a sexy wink. “It’s not the apartment that’s magical, Harry. It’s you and me.”

His smile shone, lighting my way as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Malibu. I knew just the place to watch the sunset and maybe create a little more magic in the backseat of the convertible.

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