The Violet Hour (The Violet Hour Series) (4 page)

Andrea Wells – The Violet Hour

Chapter 5

I shot upright in my bed.  My heart raced as a tiny bead of moisture rolled down the side of my cheek.  I quickly smothered it in my hand, convinced it would be bright red.  I sighed heavily when I confirmed it was only sweat.  Rubbing my hand across my forehead, I couldn’t believe how warm I felt and how dark my dreams had wandered. 

As the rain played music on the roof, I lay back against my pillows trying to convince myself that the pouring rain had woken me, rather than my twisted dream.  Deciding I need a breath of fresh air, I pushed the covers off and headed for the porch.  The sky was dark and gloomy.  Just like my mood.  Even though it was early morning, I was ready to start the day.  Or, ready to get it over with. 

I kept my sweats on and tip-toed downstairs quietly, unsure if anyone would be up so early.  Rain blurred the view through the large windows in the family room as I made my way down the winding staircase.  It felt like a good day to sleep-in longer, unpack a little and take a nap.  I was hoping the rest of the people in the house were at least considering the sleeping-in part.

As if to prove me wrong, I heard voices coming from the kitchen and caught a whiff of breakfast on the stove.  I froze for a second debating whether to escape and sneak back upstairs or join them.

“Logan?  Is that you?  We’re in the kitchen, come join us for breakfast,” my dad yelled from down the hall.  Busted.  I wondered how he even heard me over the noisy rain as I headed toward the kitchen.  Sure enough, when I turned the corner embarrassment washed over me as all five pairs of eyes turned to look at me
. 
Normally, I would’ve welcomed this kind of attention.  My dad stood up from his barstool and walked over.  As he approached, I locked eyes with Luke sitting at the dining room table and a chill scattered through me.

“Good morning, Logan,” my dad said cheerfully as he hugged me.

“You’re up early,” I said never breaking my gaze.  Luke shifted uneasily and then starred at his plate. 

“I woke up when I heard you making noise from your room,” he mumbled softly into my shoulder.

“What did you say?” I questioned, louder than I intended to, as I pulled away.

“I thought you were having a bad dream, so I got up to check on you.  By the time I got down the hall you were sound asleep again so I drove to the store for some eggs and bacon.”

“What made you think I was having a bad dream?” I pressed.

“You were yelling in your sleep,” he said after a reluctant pause.  “Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sure you are, but I still wanted to check on you.” 

“You didn’t need to.”

“I… I wanted to,” he said painfully.  The last time we’d really spent time together I’d only been ten.  I could tell my directness had thrown him off.

I hugged my father again to end the discussion.  He let go, took my cue and led me over to the table, seating me across from Luke.  Kate was right there with a plate of food. 

My dad and Kate went back to having their own conversation while I sat awkwardly at the table with Luke and his brothers.

“So… how old are you?” the youngest of the brothers finally asked in a tone that made me think he already knew the answer but was trying to make conversation.  Jesse seemed smart, calculated, though he played the card of ‘The Joker.’  He was attractive like his oldest brother, Jack, but neither was as strikingly gorgeous as Luke. 

“I’ll be seventeen in a few weeks,” I replied.  “September 23
rd
.” 

My father made a deep sigh and I watched as his smile went flat.  My birthday was a reminder of all the years he’d missed in my life.  He excused himself and headed upstairs without speaking another word to anyone.

Jesse kept his eyes glued to his plate like he knew what he’d done.  As I scraped jelly onto my toast, I tried to think of something to say. 

“What grade are you guys in?” I asked.  Lame.  That was the best I could do?  They all smiled as if they were thinking the exact same thing. 

“I’m a junior,” Jesse said “and Luke and Jack are both seniors.”

“How?” I asked.  Jesse looked confused.  Jack and Luke looked at each other. 

“Jack was held back a grade,” Kate answered from the kitchen.

I still hadn’t taken my eyes off Luke and Jack staring at each other.  There was more to the story, I assumed.  Jesse broke the short silence with an awkward chuckle. 

“I see,” I said, refocusing on my toast, letting the missing pieces of their story go.

“Well, what grade are you in?” Luke asked, sarcastically.  I starred pointedly at him and calmly told him I was a senior. 

“I see,” he said, not missing a beat.  I watched while a crocked smile slowly grew on his lips.  I couldn’t help but to smile in return.  Something about him put me on edge but I couldn’t help it – I liked him.  He was… special.  He suddenly looked over to Jack and his smile dropped as if he knew what was about to happen.

“We’re really sorry to hear about your mom,” Jack said.  Jesse had quit eating to watch the scene unfold.

Shocked, I didn’t know what to say.  I never knew what to say to that.  When someone tells you they’re sorry for your loss, a normal response would be to say ‘thank you.’  I wasn’t thankful and wasn’t going to pretend to be anything else.  I caught Luke’s sympathetic eyes.

Without a word, I excused myself from the table.

*****

“Brody?”

“Hey babe,” he mumbled into the phone, sounding like I woke him.  “How are you feeling today?”

“I’m alright,” I paused, “How are you?”

“
Logan
?” he pressed, expecting details.

“What?” I finally said.

“Logan, when are you going to tell me how you really feel?  After two years, I know you better than anyone.  Sometimes, I know you better than you even know yourself.” 

“Look Brody, I don’t even know who I am right now, okay?  And I don’t even know how I feel either.  But, one thing’s for certain, I am not going to have this conversation with you.  Okay.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“That wasn’t a question,” I spit.

“Logan – chill out!  I just know you’re dealing with a lot…”

“Brody, you have no idea what I’m dealing with,” I cut him off.

“Logan, would you let me finish?  I
do
know what you’re dealing with right now.  Maybe I’ve never lost a parent or been forced to move away from everything I’ve ever known, but – I get it, okay?  I get it.  And I just wanna be there for you.  That’s all I want – to be there for you.” 

I would’ve apologized, but I wasn’t sorry.  I just wanted my life back.  I wanted my mom back.  And Brody… Brody wanted to be there for me.  However, I
just
wasn’t sure I wanted that from him.  How could I when I felt like I couldn’t trust him?

“I gotta go,” I said finally.

“Logan, what?  Wait!”

“Brody, I’ll call you some other time.  I gotta go; I’ve got things to do.”  Without another word, I hung up and tossed the phone onto my unmade bed.

I opened the window slightly and let the smell of rain fill the air.  The breeze coming off the downpour was cool, but comfortable.  I plugged my phone into a portable speaker and carried it to the bathroom.  I spent an entire playlist in the shower, allowing my music to do the thinking for me.  I was dealing with a lot, but that didn’t mean I needed to make it awkward for everyone. I had overreacted at breakfast and decided I should apologize. 

I dressed, turned off my music, and looked at myself in the mirror.  The familiar lump in my throat rose, but I pushed it down.  I can do this, I told myself.  When I opened the bathroom door, the faint sound of music drifted in from outside.  I tip-toed to the window seat and saw Luke picking away at an acoustic guitar just on the other side of the glass.  His low raspy voice sung a sweet melody, luring me out to join him.  Without hesitation, I opened the window wider.   

The sheeting rain had finally given way to a mellow drizzle that fell just beyond the edge of the porch.  I slid softly out of the window and stood quietly behind Luke, trying to not interrupt him.  Listening to him sing, I followed along with his words, but only two, in particular, stood out: ‘she’ and ‘love.’  When that song came to an end, he rolled right into a new song that was slower than the first.  I couldn’t stand still any longer.

“That was really good,” I remarked appreciatively, walking around to the edge of the porch in front of him. 

“Thank you,” he replied modestly.  “I like to come up here to play for a bit.  This porch has the best view in the house.”

“So, who’s the song about?” I asked, not knowing where I was planning to go with the question.  Luke grinned as if picturing a girl in his mind.  The suspense was killing me, so I tried feeding him a response.

“Ohhhh… a girl?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he joked, never taking his fingers away from the guitar strings.

“Well, the song… it’s about a girl?” I probed.

“Sure,” he agreed.  “It
is
about a girl.”

“
The
girl?” I asked, the words ready on the tip of my tongue.

“
The
girl?  Someday, I suppose,” he replied with another thought-filled smile.  I let the words linger in the air while trying to decide how to investigate without being too forward.

“What’s her name?” I asked, settling for something simple, obvious.  He chuckled.

“I don’t know,” he paused.  “But as soon as
I
do, I’ll be sure to let you know.”  He stopped playing long enough to pull his blue eyes from the strings and glance up at me. 

My heart stopped.

“Why don’t you sit down?” he offered, “I don’t bite.”

Something about his pearly white smile and the way he drew out the last three words with his lips made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.  Then again, maybe the breeze had picked up.  Either way, I was mesmerized.

Luke began strumming again and I sat down beside him.  He continued playing, though the tone of his song changed and I was lost in the heavy harmony.  I watched him play.  I watched him sing.  I watched
him
.  He wore light denim jeans with a tight, dingy-white thermal covered by plaid flannel.  Every piece of fabric on his skin complimented every single feature he had.  His hair swept just above his eyes – so close that when he blinked, the tips of his hair moved with his eyelashes.  He wasn’t model-looking gorgeous like Brody – he was better.  He was attractive in a real way.  Just an exceptionally authentic, good-looking man. 

I was so caught up watching him, I didn’t realize he’d quit playing at first.

“Did you like that one?” he asked, startling me.

“Yeah,” I said too quickly. 

“Good ‘cause I thought you weren’t paying any attention so I quit playing,” he kidded with a grin.

“No, that’s not it at all, I just…”  I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s okay, I understand.  You’ve got a lot on your mind.” 

I simply smiled in agreement. 

“So…” he said, giving me the chance to change the subject. 

Looking deep into his eyes, I decided to take a chance.

“It’s been pretty rough, especially these past few days.  Everywhere I turn, something reminds me of her.”

“I know how you feel,” he sighed.  Those simple words flooded me with the most comfort I’d felt since arriving. “If you ever need to talk about it – or – not talk about it,” he paused, locking his eyes with mine, “just let me know.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, “That means a lot.”

“So…” he began again.  This time, I welcomed the change of topic.

“So, tell me something about yourself, Luke Callahan.  Tell me something that no one else knows about you.”  He tensed in his chair as if my boldness had caught him off guard.  Before answering, he started playing the guitar again and it seemed to relax him instantly.  The rain picked up and played alongside. 

“Well, I don’t have
too
many secrets,” he hedged.

“Then, just tell me everything.”

“Well, I’m eighteen.  I was born in Arizona on March seventeenth…”

“No, no, no,” I interrupted, “not your dating profile!  Tell me about you – who you are, not what you are.”

“I thought I was!” he laughed.

“Minor details.  I want to know what makes you – you.”  It seemed a little deep, but was worth a shot.

He stopped playing but I deliberately didn’t turn to meet his eyes this time.  Something in the air felt different – unfamiliar.  I felt the weight of his gaze on me as I slowly pulled my hair back into a ponytail. 

I was afraid to look at him, suddenly knowing that if I did, I’d never want to look away again. I held my breath forgetting what we were talking about and decided I only risked losing one thing: my heart.  I opened my eyes.  His smile was soft.  His eyes were kind, glittering when he blinked like raindrops falling from the sky just before they hit the ground.  He gave off warmth that felt like the sun emerging from a cool grey sky.