Authors: Piper Vaughn
made Alice squeal and clap her sticky hands
together in delight.
In spite of the mess, she looked so much like
Rue at that moment, I had to laugh.
“You’re going to be trouble just like your
papa,” I told her as I bent down to start wiping up
the worst of the damage. No Bounty one-sheet job
this time around. I’d probably have to break out the
mop. Good thing the salon was only a ten-minute
walk from the house.
“Oh, n-no.” Erik had appeared in the
doorway to the kitchen, looking disheveled and
adorable as usual, and was staring wide-eyed at
the mess. I was pretty sure he’d been setting up one
of the
Star Wars
DVDs for him and Alice to watch
before being drawn over by the noise. It had
become an everyday thing since the move. As
much as I loved me some Han Solo, the idea of
sitting through those movies again made me
shudder a little. I understood Erik’s rituals, though,
probably even better than Rue did. My sister’s
were different, but she’d had them too.
The thought of her came with its usual stab of
pain, low in my belly. So many years had passed
since I’d seen her last. So many years. Of all the
things I’d left behind in Delaware, she was the
only one I missed.
I pushed the memories of her away. I had a
kitchen to clean and a job to get to. I didn’t have
any time to spare for wallowing.
Alice gave another squeal, smearing her
hands around in the fruit and yogurt that was still
on her tray, blue eyes huge and excited. “Da-da!”
Erik ruffled her hair, and she smiled up at
him, showing off a smattering of drooly baby teeth.
“Sh-should I get the mop?” he asked.
“Yeah, that’d be great, hon.” I stood and
tossed the soiled paper towels into the garbage can
under the sink while Erik went to get what we
needed from the utility room.
A few minutes later, the floor was back to its
normal, pristine condition. Alice was another
matter entirely, but I still had to finish my lunch
cleanup and get my skinny butt out the door if I
wanted to make it to work on time. I’d leave her in
the care of her former manny, soon-to-be adoptive
father. Erik and Rue had already started the
process, figuring it was something they should do
sooner rather than later. I knew they were
discussing wills too. Serious stuff, but it wasn’t as
if any of us knew what might happen one day to the
next. Alice’s future was something we all wanted
to protect.
Being there, watching as Rue built his life
with Erik and Alice, really was amazing. It made
me proud. I never thought I’d see Rue as a family
man, in an actual, honest-to-goodness relationship,
totally and completely smitten by this beautiful
baby girl who’d changed all our lives. Family,
love, children—those were
my
dreams, never his.
But it was wonderful to see how much he’d grown
since Alice was born.
I loved them all. I did. So much of my
happiness was tied to them, to our new lives in
California and our cute little ranch-style house
with its neatly kept lawn and charming white
picket fence. The house that had come up for rent
at the perfect time and at just the right price, as if
finally the stars had aligned, or destiny had
stepped up to get us where we needed to be. I
never doubted I was meant to be a part of Alice’s
life, of their family, to share this place with Rue
and Erik. But I had to admit, sometimes it hurt to
be around them.
I did a quick wipe down of the counters,
making sure I’d gotten all the crumbs from the
crusty Italian bread I’d used for our tomato and
mozzarella sandwiches, rinsed the dishrag in the
sink, and hung it over the faucet to dry. “Hey, Erik,
I’ll see you later tonight, okay?”
Erik paused in the middle of scrubbing
Alice’s tray. His eyes met mine, and he smiled,
that same sweet, unassuming smile that at one time
made my stomach warm and quake with
possibility. Now it made it clench instead. He had
another smile too, but that one had never been for
me. I’d only ever seen him use it for Rue.
“Okay,” he said. “Have a good day at work.”
I nodded and brushed by him on the way to
my room to collect my bag, stopping long enough
to drop a kiss on Alice’s dark head. I didn’t love
Erik anymore, not like that. I’d never told him or
Rue that I had. I’d downplayed my feelings,
pretended they weren’t anything more than a casual
crush, no big deal, and I’d stood aside because I’d
never been the type to get in the way, especially if
it would’ve meant hurting Rue. But there were
moments—teeny, tiny, awful, guilty moments—
when no matter how hard I tried not to, I’d look at
Erik and imagine the what-ifs and might-have-
beens. They made my chest ache.
I didn’t want Erik. That wasn’t it. He was
Rue’s, and Rue was his. What I wanted was what
they had. I wanted it so badly sometimes it woke
me in the dead of night, and I could feel it there,
hovering right above me, the sense that I was
missing something, and if I reached out, if I
reached out just far enough, maybe I could touch it.
Work was long that day. I flirted and joked,
pasted on my sunniest smile, made my clients look
fabulous, and tried to forget the awkwardness from
earlier. By the time my dinner break came around,
I was exhausted. I hated being depressed. It took
so much out of me and went against my nature in
every way. Whatever happened in life, there was
always a bright side, and usually I focused on that
and left the dark stuff behind. Misery and I had
never been friends. I wanted to go back to the
cheerful Dusty, the one whose smile came readily
and never felt forced. Somewhere in the last few
weeks, I’d lost my grip on him. I had only one
guess as to why.
Back in Wilmington, I’d practically been a
permanent fixture at Rue’s and Erik’s apartments.
I’d liked being there better than my own place, it
was true. But at least I’d had my own place to go
back
to
, even if it was just a threadbare studio
above an old barbershop, and nowhere near as
nice as what we had now. It had been my own
private, isolated space, and different from just
having a bedroom in a house we all shared. I
didn’t have to deal with the knowledge that Rue
and Erik were on the other side of a thin wall,
together, while I lay in bed alone. I didn’t have to
hear them every night and feel the bitter ache of my
own loneliness pressing down on me.
So, yeah, it was hard. Harder than I thought it
would be. I could only hope that time would make
it easier.
“Hey, Dusty, got any plans for dinner?”
I looked up from sweeping my station to see
my coworker, Lane, watching me. I could tell from
the expression on his face that he was wondering
why I bothered. There was a girl on staff
responsible for those things, but sweeping up after
my clients was a force of habit for me. I didn’t feel
comfortable standing there watching while Tasha
did what I felt I should be doing myself. The other
stylists didn’t see it that way and happily left their
messes behind, but the only time she got to clean
mine was if she snuck in while my back was
turned.
“Not really,” I answered as I swept the pile
of hair into a long-handled dustpan and took it over
to the garbage bin. “Why? What did you have in
mind?”
“How ’bout we walk over to The Banana
Leaf and grab some salads?” Lane asked, giving
me a little smile.
He was cute in a punk-rock kind of way—a
couple of inches taller than me with bright-red hair
he styled in rows of jagged spikes, a stud in his left
nostril and another in his tongue, and eyes I didn’t
know the color of because he came in wearing
different contacts every day. He’d been flirting
with me on and off for weeks, but I never
encouraged him at all. I felt a little bad even
admitting it in my head, but he wasn’t my type. Not
that I’d ever really had one until recently, but if
someone had asked me right then, I would have
said my type was brown-eyed and brown-haired
with pretty olive skin and lips that made my knees
go weak. Too bad I hadn’t seen that guy since he’d
saved me from falling on my face and making a
spectacle of myself last month.
Stop being crazy. You didn’t even speak to
him. Why the hell are you still thinking about it?
I fought back a sigh. Because I was a moron,
apparently. And maybe only a few steps shy of
pathetic.
“Dusty?” Lane prompted when I’d been silent
too long.
I propped the broom and dustpan next to the
garbage can and quickly undid my apron. “Sure.
Let me grab my bag.”
Lane and I walked the five minutes to the café
everyone at the salon loved. It was close,
reasonably priced, and the salads and sandwiches
were delicious. As a bonus, they had a great
selection of dishes for veggie heads like myself.
Occasionally, I stopped in to pick something up for
me and Rue after work so Erik could order a pizza
or a burger or whatever it was he needed to get his
meat fix. We were still working on getting him to
eat healthier, one lonely fruit and vegetable at a
time.
On the way to The Banana Leaf, we passed
Cobra Fitness. I glanced inside, eyeing the people
I could see through the windows—lifting weights,
running on treadmills, pedaling madly on
stationary bikes. I remembered Michelle’s offer to
give me a tour and thought I should probably take
her up on it soon. I hadn’t spent more than five
minutes in her company, but I’d liked her, and
lately I’d been feeling the need for a new friend. I
didn’t think Lane and I could ever really be that, at
least not until he got the hint I wasn’t interested in
anything more.
“Want to just eat here?” Lane asked as we
walked in.
I nodded and inhaled. God, I loved the scent
of baking bread. The Banana Leaf made everything
fresh on-site, one of the many things I liked about
the place. “Yeah, sounds good.”
I followed him to the back of the line, already
knowing what I wanted. It was a casual place, the
kind where you ordered, seated yourself, and had
to clean up your own mess, but that was okay by
me. All I cared about was that their food was
good.
I’d just finished paying and had turned to look
around for an empty table when I saw him.
Him.
The gorgeous guy I hadn’t been able to get out of
my head for more than a month. He was sitting at a
table alone, his eyes fixated on his phone, fingers
moving quickly, as if he might be typing a text
message.
Oh, my God.
A flutter of excitement burst to life in my
belly. I’d thought I might never see him again. I
mean, even in a city as small as Wilmington it was
possible to live without ever running into the same
person twice. In a place like California, who knew
what the odds were?
The sight of him filled me with nerves, made
my body flash hot. I rubbed sweaty palms on the
thighs of my tight black jeans and adjusted my T-
shirt with trembling fingers. Nervous or not, there
was no way,
no way
, I could let such a prime
opportunity slip by.
Go over there. Just do it. Talk to him.
“Hey, Dusty,” Lane said from beside me.
“I’m gonna go grab that table.”
“Sure, thanks, hon.” I didn’t even bother to
look where he was pointing. I couldn’t tear my
eyes away from my dream man. And that’s what he
was. I’d been dreaming about him almost
constantly since that one intense, speech-robbing
moment all those weeks ago. This was my chance
to make a move, and I’d be a moron to waste it,
even if it meant risking a rejection. At least I