Pucker Up (25 page)

Their
eyes met, and he saw the recrimination and sadness there.  Peter stood and
shook the dust from his jeans.  “You think it would have mattered?”

“You
think it wouldn’t have?” Dustin shot back.

“I
don’t think it would have made a damn bit of difference.”

“Why?”

“Because
you weren’t ready to hear it, man,” Peter said.  “You wouldn’t have believed
it.  You were too preoccupied feeling hurt that she left you that you were
blind to everything else.”

“So
your response was to hand me songs?”  Dustin’s raised brow showed his opinion
on that plan.

“So
I handed you songs.  And magazine articles.  And every opportunity possible to
tell kids bedtime stories.  Yeah, I did.  Because you were too damn stubborn to
listen to anything else.”

Peter
paced the floor.  “How many times did I tell you to go after her?”  He laughed
harshly.  “I have been so fucking annoyed with you for letting your pride stop
you from chasing after her.”

“My
pride?”

“Your
stupid pride.  You thought it was dignity, but it wasn’t – it was cowardice.”

“Cowardice?”
Dustin said, taken aback.  “You think I was being cowardly?”

“Yeah,
I do.”

Dustin
finally rose from the floor.  “Who the hell are you to say that to me?”

“The
guy that would have crawled over hot coals to see Darcy again just one more
time.  Even if it was to fight with her.  Even if it meant being blamed or
wronged or pierced through the heart.” 

Peter’s
breathing slowed, tamping down on his own feelings.  “You don’t think it was
pride?  Think of where you’d be now if you’d just gotten her to talk to you.”

“I’m
trying really hard not to,” Dustin said, anger clear in his words.  It was his
turn to pace the floor.  “You think I don’t know how monumentally I screwed
up?  You think I want to think about the ten years we could have had together
if I’d just went straight from the hospital to her side?

“And
now, I tell her exactly how I feel, lay it all on the line, and she still
leaves.  Doesn’t know if she can trust me.  Which kills me.  I mean, I get it;
don’t get me wrong, I get it – because I monumentally fucked it up last time. 
But I’m still dying inside.”

Peter
laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder.  “What did she say?”

He
sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  “Time.  She needed time.”

“But
not space?” Peter murmured.

“No,”
Dustin said, looking up at his twin, “not space.”

“Then
you just have to be there,” Peter said. “Show up, every day.  Until there isn’t
even a possibility that you won’t be.” 

“I
don’t know what to believe anymore,” Faith said as way of greeting, barging
into Maya’s veterinary practice.  The receptionist just stared at her, mouth
gaping open.

“Someone
needs a check-up,” Maya said, coming across the waiting room to take Faith by
the elbow.

“Am
I going to have to crawl on all fours to get one?”

“I
don’t discriminate.  Just as long as you’re part of the animal kingdom.”

Faith
glanced around as she was led down the hall.  “You’re not busy, are you?”

“Look
at that, my afternoon just cleared right up,” Maya said as she motioned her
through a doorway.  It wasn’t into an exam room but an office with stately wood
paneling.  She was pushed down into an armchair, Maya dropping down next to her
in its twin.

“Was
it a bad idea to come here?” Faith asked, staring down at her hands clenched in
her lap.

Maya
smiled and laid a hand over hers, quieting their fidgeting.  “It was the best
idea to come here.  What happened?”

“Bea
said she wanted to talk to me about a charity concert, so I drove down to see
her.”

“That
doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Except
she wasn’t the one that wanted to talk to me.  Dustin was waiting.”

“And?”
Maya prompted after Faith fell silent.

“And
he told me things that… that, I don’t know, I just… I just don’t know…”

“Faith,
sweetie, that’s not true,” Maya said, giving her hands a squeeze.  Faith’s head
came up in surprise, but Maya’s expression was all comfort.  “You always know. 
Whether you want to admit it or face it, that’s a different story.  But you
always
know
.”

Another
truth Faith didn’t want to confront.  She groped about for a change of
subject.  “How come you never wrote anything else?” she asked.  Maya had gotten
the demand to stop – maybe that’s what Faith needed.  A change, a big change. 
No more Andy Peters, no more reason to always feel torn asunder.

“Who
said I didn’t?” Maya asked with feigned indignation.  She shot Faith a
secretive smile as she got up and walked over to her bookcase.  “I took a few
pointers from you as it were.”

Maya
handed her a couple of paperback books.  “
Sleeping With the Fishes
, A
Dr. Cynthia Hardwick Veterinary Mystery,” she read.  The byline said Erika
Chapman.  “You wrote these?”

“I
sure did.  I’m not too shabby at it either.”  Faith flipped over the book to
skim the blurb on the back cover.  “Blends all my passions – animals, writing,
and getting into everyone’s business.”

Faith
laughed at that.  “You were the gossip.”

“I
was not the gossip.  Gossip implies ill intent and talking behind people’s
backs.  I just like to know what’s going on – because I care – and sometimes I
offer advice.”

“Mmmhmm,”
Faith murmured.

“I
never said the advice was always solicited.”

“Do
you remember the time you told Angie she should cut her hair?” Faith laughed.

Maya
joined in.  “That was some really, really bad advice.  I’m so happy Charlie
convinced her to get that wig first.”

“We
had some fun times.”

“We
still could,” Maya said, “if you’d let yourself.”

“Here
comes the advice.” Faith sighed.

“Don’t
pretend it’s not why you came here, girlie.” 

“I
don’t know why I came here.”

“Liar. 
You know exactly why you came here.  You came to see me.”

Faith
ran her fingers over the spine of the book, tracing the letters in Maya’s pen name. 
How had they both ended up hiding away parts of themselves?  “How can you help
me,” she whispered, “when you’re doing the same thing as me.”

“No,
I’m not,” Maya scoffed.  She took the book from Faith’s hand and held it up. 
“I’m not hiding behind this.  I’ll tell anyone and everyone about this; I’m
damn proud of it.  The same can’t be said for you.  I have separation; you have
secrets.”

She
knew Maya was right, but she had no idea how to stop keeping them, no idea if
the foundations of who she was would start to crumble when exposed to the
light.  But who was she, really?  Heartbroken and sullen when she didn’t have
to be if everything Dustin had said to her was true, had offered her was true.

“I
don’t know if I can do it again,” Faith whispered.  “It destroyed me last time. 
He
destroyed me last time, absolutely destroyed me.”

“You
were young then.  And you’ve both done a lot of growing up since then.”

“I’m
worried it’s not enough.”  Faith jumped up out of the chair and started pacing
the floor.  “That it’s all an illusion.  And we don’t want all the pain to be
for nothing, so we’re building it up into more than it was, more than it was
meant to be.”

“Bullshit,”
Maya said, giving Faith a stare she couldn’t run from.  “Right here, right now,
stop lying to yourself.  What’s really bothering you?  What’s this really all
about?”

“For
the last ten years I thought I was a disappointment.  That I wasn’t good enough
and had no idea why.”  Her voice was full of unshed tears.  “I can’t bear the
thought of failing after all this time.  I’m not the same person I was, I can’t
be the same person I was, and if that’s who Dustin is expecting then I’m
screwed either way.”

Maya
came to her side, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.  “I don’t think
that you’re giving either of you enough credit.  You both know the only
direction to move is forward.”

“Forward,”
Faith murmured.  “What’s that?”

“Hey,
Dad.”

Peter
looked up in surprise at Melody coming through the front door.  “Sweet Pea, what
are you doing here?  Why aren’t you at school?”

“Harm’s
in trouble, so she’s been on radio silence since last weekend.  I wanted to see
you guys, see how everyone is.  And…” She reached a hand outside and pulled
Eric in behind her, the screen banging against him.

“Oh,”
was all Peter said.  He cleared his throat, got up from the table, and made his
way around the room to hug his daughter.  “Is this a distraction technique?” he
whispered in her ear.

“Absolutely,”
she responded with a grin.

“Eric,
I’m assuming,” Peter said with a handshake.

“Sir,
very nice to meet you.”

“You’re
right.  Just remember that I’m the nice one.”

“He’s
already met Uncle Dust, remember?”

“Well
then, he already knows I’m the nice one.”  Peter’s forehead creased, the delight
at seeing his daughter dampening just a bit.  “I’m always overjoyed to see you,
honey, but you probably should have called first.  Your uncle is – ”

“Her
uncle is what?” Dustin asked as he entered the house.  “Harmony, get down here.
 I need some help!” he yelled to the rafters before smiling at their new
arrivals.  “Melody and Eric, fantastic.  I can use all the hands that are
handy.”

“What’s
going on?  Mel!” Harmony was halfway down the stairs before noticing her
sister.  She never made it to her side though because all the Andrews stopped
in their tracks when they saw Dustin drop a huge box of lemons on the table.

“What
are those for?” Peter asked hesitantly.  A few lemons to make a pie was one
thing.  A whole barrel of them spelled trouble. 

Dustin
grabbed one and sliced it open with a pocketknife.  “Eating,” he said before
taking a bite out if it like it was an orange and he was a soccer player at halftime. 
The girls couldn’t help it; they gasped.  “New meaning for pucker up,” he said
as his mouth pursed at the acidic taste.  “But damn, I do grow good lemons,
don’t I?”

Harmony
and Melody looked at their uncle like he’d gone insane, but Peter, knowing the
truth, couldn’t help but laugh.  This was what he’d been waiting for, for his
twin to stop demonizing the past and make peace with it so they could all move
forward.  A taste of lemon was exactly that.   

“What
are you doing with all of those lemons?”

“What
are
we
doing with all of these lemons, you mean?”

“Of
course,” Peter said with a grin, “that’s exactly what I meant.  What are
we
doing with them?”

“I’ve
been thinking, and it’s time we improve on Mom’s famous tarts.”

“Um,”
Harmony said, attitude on display as she finished coming down the stairs, “you
can’t improve on perfection.  That’s blasphemy just saying so.”

“I’m
with the Felon on this one,” Melody said.

“Great,”
Harmony murmured, “that nickname is going to stick.”

“Mom’s
apple tarts were the best,” Peter said, knowing exactly where this was going.

“They
were,” Dustin said with a nod.  “But I still think I can make lemon ones that
are better.  All those ribbons at the fair have to count for something.” 

The
girls were shocked into silence.  “I love lemon-flavored anything,” Eric said
with a smile. 

“Good
man.  I think I like him,” Dustin said.  He tossed a lemon to the boy.  “You
can be in charge of zesting.”

“Go
put your apron on,” Melody said, pushing Harmony towards the kitchen, “we’ve
got baking to do.”

The
kids filed into the kitchen, and Peter stepped to Dustin’s side.  “Why are we
really making tarts?”

“Peace
offering,” he murmured.

“Peace
offering?”

Dustin
cocked a brow at his brother.  “I might have treated her badly but not the
lemons.  Never the lemons.”

Peter
laughed.  “You think a lemon curd is going to solve all your problems?”

“Not
just any lemon curd.  The best lemon curd this side of Texas.”  Dustin moved
from the table to the kitchen, grabbing the mixer from the counter and
unfurling the cord.  “And my girl loves lemons.”

Faith
grumbled all the way down the stairs, annoyed to be called from her nice warm
bed.  The mattress never refused to support her.  The comforter was always there
to wrap itself around her.  She didn’t need anything else, not at all.

“What
could you possibly need this early?”

Pearl
raised an eyebrow at her.  “My, aren’t we cheery this morning.”  Maya, Jackson,
and her chef and formed a band of sorts, one to get her out of her funk.  And
into Dustin’s arms if they had anything to say about it.  Faith was sure they’d
missed their moment and was just trying her best to forget what that had been
like.

“There’s
a package that you have to sign for – they won’t let me do it.  Good morning to
you too.”  Pearl smiled and walked away.

Faith
ran a hand through her hair, barely caring if there was a photographer on the
other side of the door to catch her.  She made most of her money being
completely invisible, who cared that she had bedhead.

The
lanky teenager on the other side of the door looked vaguely familiar, but she
didn’t dwell on it, not at the sight of the bright pink pastry box in his
hands.  “Faith West?” he asked before handing her a clipboard to sign.  She
scrawled her name across it, barely even looking at the paper, and then was
handed the curious package.

Did
Maya send me pastries as a pick-me-up?  Not a horrible idea, she thought as she
set the box down on the foyer table.  She opened it, and her brow furrowed. 
“What do we have here?”  Two tarts sat in the box, one covered with meringue
and the other with raspberries and a sprig of green.  She dipped her finger
into the white topping, unable to resist, as the box made a sound. 

Faith
moved aside the crinkly white paper at the bottom of the box and uncovered a
cell phone.  “Just my luck,” she murmured as she picked it up. “I have to chase
after a delivery guy to return his phone.”  She turned it over to see the
screen and had to blink her eyes a few times to believe it.  The phone’s
wallpaper was Dustin biting into a lemon.  It pinged again, and she noticed the
text message. 

Lemons
will always remind me of you.

Faith
tried to ignore the delivery.  But once she finally put it out of her mind the
next morning, another package arrived.  Two more lemon tarts, this time one
with blueberries and one with a candied lemon peel.  The new phone pinged right
as she was opening the package, resonating faintly from the foyer drawer she’d
hidden it in.  She pulled it out and reluctantly read the message. 
Sometimes
I still think about that rainstorm we got stuck in.

It
continued like that for a week, tarts and text message arriving on her
doorstep: 

Things
you’ll still find in my closet:  Attitunes shirts, expensive cufflinks, a bag
of that ridiculously expensive coffee (which still tastes like asphalt)

If
I did anything right in my life it was when I gave my heart to you.

Do
you remember when your horse got spooked and I had to save you like something
out of a movie?  You and Rosie were scared half to death but even when I was
yelling at you, couldn’t help but notice that you were the most beautiful thing
I’d ever seen.