Pucker Up (11 page)

“Sneakitude
is not a word.”

Harmony
laughed.  “Will be when I’m done with it.”

Dustin
sat in his office chair, staring resolutely out the window at the foreign car
that didn’t belong.  But damn it if it didn’t make an idyllic scene under his
tree.  The weather was perfect, sun shining brightly and a light wind rustling
the leaves as if whispering in the breeze.  He could hear birds calling to each
other, merry little tunes.  It was all perfectly at odds with the black cloud
that had descended over him.

The
door to the study slammed open, but he didn’t turn.  “I am so angry with you I
feel like pushing you out of a treehouse.”  Peter’s declaration got an inward
smile.

“Because
that worked so well for you the last time,” Dustin growled.  They had been
seven, their “treehouse” on the porch, and he had fallen all of a foot.  Their
mother still made sure there was hell to pay.

“Fine. 
I feel like throwing you out of the house to go sleep in the hayloft.  There
your sexcapades would be a lot less comfortable – and I wouldn’t have to hear
it.  And my
daughter
wouldn’t have to hear it.”

Guilt
seeped in, wiggling through the cracks around his heart that anything related
to the girls could always find.  “That…that was an unfortunate consequence. 
That I’m sorry for.”

“Dustin,
what the hell is going on with you?”

“Meyer,”
he murmured, finally looking at Peter.

“Why
are we talking about lemon varieties?”

Dustin
took a deep breath but didn’t shy away from Peter’s gaze.  “That was my
daughter’s name.  It was a girl.  We were having a girl.”

Peter’s
eyes darkened with sympathy, and Dustin couldn’t look at him any longer; his
gaze shifted out the window to the tree.  Peter clamped a hand on his shoulder,
just one squeeze, before crossing to drop into the chair across from his
brother.  “Man, I’m sorry.”

“She
was never going to tell me.  It just slipped out when we were arguing.  I was
never going to know.”

“You
don’t know –”

“Yes,
I do.  She told me as much.” 

They
sat in silence, understanding passing between them.  They were twins; they
didn’t always need words.

“Be
careful, Dusty,” his brother said.

“You
have been trying to throw that girl at me for years, and now you tell me to be
careful?”  Their eyes tracked back together.

“Because
you pined for her, and it tortured you.  Now she’s here, and it’s still
torturing you.”

Dustin
scoffed.  “So melodramatic.  I have not been tortured.  Or pining, for that
matter.”

Peter
raised his brow.  “What would you call it then?”

He
opened his mouth but no words came out – he didn’t know what to say.  “I’m no
good with words.”

“What,
you?  Mr. Eloquence?”  Peter grinned, and vaulted himself out of his chair.  “I
know you’re working through stuff, Dustin, but I swear to God if you stage
another Penthouse demonstration, I’m throwing you naked into the yard.  Harmony
doesn’t need any more educating on the subject.  Nor do I.”

“I
don’t know, little brother – you could probably use a few pointers.”

“I
kept my wife satisfied just fine, thank you very much.”

Dustin
laughed.  “If that’s what you’re saying, then you’re woefully out of practice. 
Been eight years, bro.”

“I
know.”  Peter’s smile turned wistful.  “I know.”  

Faith
tiptoed down the stairs, praying she didn’t run into anyone as she tried to
escape.  This house was doing crazy things to her – to her composure, to her
self-control, to her certainty – and she could not be rid of it soon enough.  Things
she was sure were settled years ago were popping back up, looking at her with
questioning stares, and she couldn’t face any of them without solitude and a
guitar in her hand.  She could not face this new reality without her weapons – she
was crumbling at the prospect.

She
winced when she noticed the door to Dustin’s office was ajar.  She saw his
boots propped on the desk, no doubt leaning back in his chair and staring at
the ceiling, ruminating on everything that had happened in the last twenty-four
hours.  She slowed to a virtual crawl, not wanting to attract his attention as
she slipped out through the kitchen.

“So
I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time with that boy lately.”  Faith
stopped short in the hallway at Peter’s voice, not crossing the threshold of
the room and remaining out of sight.  The tone was all uncomfortable
seriousness.

“What
boy, Jeremy?”

“No,
not the sexless one.  That big hulking football player.”

“Tad,
Dad?  You’re worried about Tad?”  Harmony was laughing, but Peter did not seem
at all amused.

“Not
worried.  Do I look like a man that worries?  It’s just… Well…”

“Out
with it, Dad.  Spit it out already.”

“We’ve
never had that talk. 
The
talk.  About sex.”  Peter rushed that last
word, like he was afraid to say it too slowly or his daughter would hear.  “Your
mother had it with Melody before, and I… have avoided it admirably if I do say
so myself.  But recent events, well, I just wanted to have a talk with you.”

Faith
knew exactly what recent events he was talking about.  She didn’t want to hear
this.  Then again, she didn’t want to risk going back from where she’d came,
where Dustin was, probably laying wait to have another fight.  So she stayed
hidden in the hall, hearing everything.

“Seriously,
Dad, really?  Fine.  So, should I be having sex?”

“I
don’t know – should you?”

Faith
was surprised by that reply and sidled farther down the hall, peeking through
the entryway to see them.  Harmony had much the same reaction.  “Really?”

“What
really?” Peter asked.

“Well,
I was just sure you were going to say ‘Not until you’re married, Peaches!’  And
then I was planning to say ‘Oh, like you and Mom waited, right?’  Or something
along those lines.”

He
broke out in laughter, an easy grin consuming his face.  “Harmony, spitfire,
you’re going to be the death of me.  Sit down.  Come on, sit down.”  After he
got her seated at the kitchen table, he continued.  “No, your mom and I didn’t
wait until we were married.  In fact… in fact I slept with your mother the
first night I met her.”

“What? 
You didn’t!”

He
laughed.  “I did.  You remember how we met, and—”

“Tell
it to me again,” Harmony asked.

Peter
gave her a look out of the corner of his eyes.  “That’s not what we’re talking
about right now.”

“Well,
if you’re going to make me have this conversation with you, the least you could
do is tell me something I want to hear.”

Faith
loved Peter’s grin, so much like his brother’s, a touch more humor and a touch
less sternness.  Was that what Dustin would look like if their daughter was alive? 
She shook her head to try and remove that thought and slumped against the wall
to listen.

“Fine. 
So Uncle Dustin had gotten into that car accident – T-boned by a drunk driving
a Lexus – and I had been hanging out in the emergency room for hours.”  Faith
straightened and leaned closer.  Dustin had been in the hospital?  “And to pass
the time I started flirting with this pretty little nurse.

“She
was the cutest thing I’d ever seen, in those bright pink scrubs and half a
dozen pencils sticking out of her hair.  She started off having none of me, but
I was there long enough to wear her down.  I ‘conveniently’ bumped into her in the
cafeteria on her break.  Convinced her to have a cup of coffee with me, and I
was in love.  She wouldn’t give me her phone number though, refused flat
outright. As well she should of, you shouldn’t be giving your number out
willy-nilly to strange men you don’t know.”  Harmony waved his comment away and
gestured for him to continue.

“So
I was pretty surprised when she came to talk to me after her shift.  And then
even more surprised when we went and had sex in an empty on-call room.  And she
still wouldn’t give me her damn number… I didn’t know it then, but she’d just
been diagnosed with breast cancer, as in ‘walked out of a meeting with her
doctor and saw me still sitting in the waiting room’ just diagnosed.  I’m
fairly certain it’s the only reason she gave me the time of day at all.  She
just wanted to forget, to have some fun.”

Peter’s
face turned from wistful to serious.  “Sex—” he began.

“Tell
me the rest.  Finish the story.”

Peter
shook his head.  “Another time.  Back to the topic at hand.  I’m not going to
lie, sex is fun.  With the right person, sex is breathtaking.  But it’s also
not something to be taken lightly.”

“Because
I could get pregnant.”  Harmony rolled her eyes at the sentiment.

“Because
you could get sexually transmitted diseases,” he stressed.  “And yes, also
pregnant.  It’s a decision with consequences, and you need to be prepared to
take them.”

“Girls
don’t get knocked up every time they have sex, Dad, no matter what you may
remember from way back when you were actually doing it.”

“I
know that,” he said, completely ignoring her teasing, “but if you’re thinking
about it, you’ll be more likely to be careful.  Take all the necessary
precautions.  And make sure you’re ready for it.  Sex comes with complications
– physical and emotional ones – and you need to be aware of that.  Look at me –
one night with your mother, and I was hooked, like a drug, couldn’t get her out
of my head.  It all worked out, but sometimes it doesn’t, Peaches.  And I still
got my heart broken.”

Faith
watched as Harmony got up from her chair and draped her arms around Peter’s
neck, leaning her chin against his shoulder.  His hand came up and gently
brushed her arm.  “I’m so grateful that you wouldn’t take no for an answer,”
Harmony whispered.

Dustin
stared at the ceiling, throwing a baseball towards the rafters and catching it
as it came down.  The steady sound of the ball hitting his hand calmed him just
as the sound of hammer hitting nail would.  Routine – he craved it, something
to get lost in.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t nearly as effective when Faith was
within five hundred yards.

He
glanced out the window, towards the tree, and completely missed the ball as it
came back down, striking him against the chin.  He swore and jumped from his
chair, eyes never leaving Faith peering under the hood of her car.

“Figured
out what’s wrong with it yet?” he asked as he approached her.  He saw her spine
stiffen at the words.

“The
engine won’t turn over.  Obviously.”  He grinned at her impervious tone, but
she didn’t see it, head still firmly under the hood.

“Oh,
obviously.”  Her ass looked perfect in those jeans, and for a moment he forgot
that the last time he’d seen her he’d been hurling insults her way.  “Any
diagnosis?”

“The
fan belt,” she said after a pause. 

Dustin
burst out laughing; that finally got her to turn around and look at him.  The
haughty derision in her gaze just had him laughing more.  “You watch one
television show where that happened, and now every time there’s a problem, it’s
the fan belt.”

“Well,
it could be.”

“Let
me look at it.”

“You’re
not a mechanic,” she said tartly.

“I’m
more mechanic than you are.”  She stepped out of the way, and he slipped into
her place in front of the hood.  “I’ve fixed every vehicle on this place at
least twice.  I think I can manage.”

“None
of those are German.  What do you know about them?”

Dustin
glanced at Faith, arms crossed in defense and propped up against his tree.  She
looked like she just stepped out of one of his moody daydreams.  “More than
you, that’s for sure.”  He wasn’t about to tell her he’d done a stint as a
mechanic before he’d settled on construction.

“But
not more than the guy I’m going to call, that’s for sure.”

“You
don’t have to call anyone,” he said.  “I’ll take a look at it.” 

“When? 
In a month?  No thanks, I’ll just call a professional and go.”

“Faith.”
He sighed. “Don’t be silly.  I’ll look at it right now.  You don’t have to call
anyone else.”

Her
eyes narrowed.  “Why are you being nice to me?”

Because
he wasn’t finished with her yet.  Because he didn’t want her to leave.  Because
there were still so many things left unsaid.  “Because I can.”  She rolled her
eyes at that, and his face sobered.  “Let’s call a cease-fire.”

“You
started it,” she murmured at the ground.

“I
know.”  He ducked his head back under the hood.

“We’re
never going to be able to go back to the way it was, are we?”

“You
want to?” he asked.

She
sighed.  “I don’t know.  Sometimes.  But that’s ridiculous, right?  We can’t
spend even ten minutes together without either fighting or fooling around. 
It’s foolish to think we can be friends or anything at all to each other.”  He
heard the melancholy in her voice, and his heart clenched.  He used to make her
laugh more often than sigh.  But what she was asking was madness; he couldn’t
be friends with the woman that broke his heart so badly it hadn’t healed
correctly.

“Yeah,
it is.  But we can probably manage cordial.  Veer towards friendly if called
for.”  He glanced back at her, and she was staring at him, sapphire blue eyes
that always held him captive.  He could see that she wanted to believe him,
yearned for it in the same way he did.

“That
sounds nice,” she said.  “Just not sure if it sounds true.”  She pushed off the
tree and slipped her hands in her back pockets, walking away.  “Thanks for
looking at my car.”

“No
problem,” he yelled after her, turning back to the engine so he wouldn’t see
her leave.

Harmony
looked at the screen of her buzzing phone and made a beeline for the backyard,
running towards the picnic table set way back before answering the video call. 
“How’s the studying going?”

Melody
rolled her eyes.  “You’re not interested in that.”

“Yes,
I am!” Harmony said, sounding indignant.  “I don’t want you to fail out of
college and end back up here sharing a bathroom with me.”

“You’re
on the trail of a mystery, Nancy Drew – you don’t care about my midterms.”

Harmony
smiled.  “Okay, maybe not.  But that doesn’t mean I can’t be polite.”

Melody
laughed at that.  “How much longer on the pleasantries before I tell you what I
found out.”

“Screw
manners.  What’s the sitch?”

“Sitch?”

“Yes,
I get most of my vocabulary from tween shows.  So goes the life of a babysitter,”
Harmony said.  “Now stop teasing me and tell we what’s up.”

“You’re
not going to believe this.”

“Ooh,
it’s that good?”

“Better,”
Melody said.  “I looked into who wrote the Apple Lodge movies, and we already
know them.”

Harmony’s
brows furrowed in confusion.  “How can we know them?  Is it Dad?  Uncle Dust? 
Bea?”

“Nope,
none of those.”

“I
think I’d know if I knew a script writer.”

“Well,
you do.  Except you know her as a veterinarian.”

“What?” 
Harmony slumped down on bench.  “You’re not making any sense.”

“I
researched all of the names attributed to writing the first Apple Lodge movie,
and there were quite a few of them.  The one that stuck out was Maya Turner. 
Which, you may remember, is the name of one of the singers in Attitunes.”

“Oh
yeah!  The Urban Sista!” Harmony exclaimed.

“Exactly. 
So there’s the Faith West connection.  Then I did more research into
Attitunes.  Found lots of interviews and articles, but the most interesting one
was from a few years ago.  A ‘where are they now’ type of thing.  It said Maya
isn’t in show business anymore but instead went back to her first career
aspiration.  Animals.” 

Melody
looked about to explode, but Harmony couldn’t take it any longer.  “Animals. 
Maya.  Veterinarian… Is that what Dr. Spencer’s first name is, Maya?”

Melody
nodded and turned the phone towards her laptop screen.  She had the website for
the local veterinary clinic up, and there was her picture, Dr. Maya Spencer. 
“Now that you know it’s her, can’t you see the girl from Attitunes?”