Like the rest of the night, over too soon. Inevitable. Just like the predictable end to their little story.
He rolled to the side and held her closer. “If I believed in magic, this place would definitely top the list.”
“It is magical.” Stupid to come out here with him. It would be a long time before she’d be able to return. Every time she looked out at the Mystery Lights, she’d see Dylan.
“Hey, you know—”
“Don’t.” God, too harsh. More softly, she said, “Please don’t.”
“I was just going to say—”
“No. Please, Dylan. Don’t say anything. Not even good-bye.”
He stroked her cheek. “This isn’t good-bye.”
She hardened herself against the emotion welling up. “Right. And those lights are really UFOs.” She hated the silence that followed. Moments passed. A freaking eternity. Of course, because the bad parts of life always stretched on.
He shifted away. “Guess I should drive you home.”
No smartass remark? No testing her to see if she’d give in? He’d taken it to heart. Yeah, that was fast. “Yes, I have to get up early.”
Yep, because life went on, shitty parts and all.
***
Dylan packed up—if throwing two pairs of jeans, three shirts, and shoes into his bag counted as packing—and tossed his bag into the backseat. Instead of heading to the airport, he steered toward Marfa.
He parked far enough away so Clarissa wouldn’t see him. He wanted to surprise her.
J. D. stepped out of the café and froze at the sight of him.
Shit. Showdown time
. Dylan felt a little silly on the approach but kept going.
J. D. cleared the café’s front windows and stopped. “You’re supposed to be gone.”
“Change of plans.”
The cowboy glared from beneath his Stetson. “Clarissa’s upset enough.”
“I have no intention of hurting her.”
“What are your intentions?”
Dylan took off his sunglasses and stared the man down. “Clarissa and I will figure that out.”
Assessing him, J. D. grunted.
What the hell did it mean? Had Dylan passed some test or something? Was the conversation over? “So I’ll see you around. Probably.” Hopefully not.
J. D.’s eyes narrowed even more, but he nodded and strode off.
Watch Westerns much?
Dylan shook off the weirdness and kept going.
Inside the Blue Moon Café, Clarissa leaned over the counter but jerked straight up when he walked in. “You’re here.”
He hesitated beside the door. “Yes.”
“But you’re supposed to be at the airport.”
He walked toward her. “I couldn’t go. Not until I know for sure that you want me to leave. Because I don’t think you do.”
She shifted her hips and shook her head. “Frat Boy…”
He wagged his finger. “Uh uh uh. You can’t fool me with that routine.”
The café phone rang. She went to answer it. “Blue Moon Café.” A pause. “God, why do you keep—” Clarissa went rigid. “What? When? Oh God.”
Alarm froze him. Helpless, all he could do was watch while she gripped the receiver with both hands, trying to take in whatever bad news the caller was delivering. He moved closer, ready to catch her in his arms.
Her eyes grew glassy with tears. “I’ll get there as soon as I can. I said I will.” She hung up.
“What’s wrong?” He lightly rubbed her back.
She threw herself into his embrace. “My dad’s in the hospital. I have to go home. God, Princeton. I hate the fucking place.”
He stroked her hair. “I’ll book us the earliest flight.”
“Clothes. I need to pack.” She disappeared through the kitchen’s swinging doors.
Harvey came through on the next swing. “Hey, what’s wrong with Clarissa?”
“Her dad’s in the hospital. She has to go home for a while. Do you want me to do anything before we go?”
“Poor girl. No, guess I’ll have to close up the café. You’re going with her?”
Dylan locked the café’s front door, flipped the sign to Closed. “Yeah, I’d never let her go alone.”
“Good man. You two have a safe trip. Let me know, will you?”
“Thanks, we will.” Dylan whipped out his cell. It took a few minutes to find the quickest trips, but he arranged for two tickets, then called Jeff to give him a heads-up, see what else they might need done. At least she hadn’t argued when he’d said “us,” but maybe it hadn’t registered yet.
By the time she returned with a bulging messenger bag, he’d booked two seats on the nine fifteen flight to Philly, and reserved a car to drive the rest of the way to Princeton.
Without a word, he took the bag from her and carried it to his car.
She opened the passenger door but halted. “Oh God, Amy and Jeff.”
“Sorry, I meant to tell you I called Jeff and let him know. He and Amy said they’re very sorry, and they sent good wishes for your dad.”
“Oh. Thank you.” She climbed in.
He reset the GPS. “The El Paso airport had the earlier flight, so I went with that.”
“I’ll repay you as soon as I get back.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m not. I’ll need your account number so I can transfer the funds.”
Not going to win this
. “Again, no need but we’ll talk about it later.”
They drove the few hours through the desert listening to NPR. Somewhere outside El Paso, he scanned the radio for other stations. Mostly country music, so he smiled over at Clarissa. “Anything you want to hear?”
“No, I’m not really in the mood.”
Yeah, stupid question. He switched it off and concentrated on getting there.
Clarissa’s father was close to death. She knew it. Knew by the way her brother’s ink tingled behind her shoulder, as if in anticipation. Knew it by the way her heart squeezed in her chest, and by the way her dad’s love reached out for her over all those miles in between. Pulling them through the air toward him. She wished the plane could fly faster.
If Dylan hadn’t been there…. She glanced over at him, sleeping in the seat beside her, morning sun shining across his face. So angelic. If only he could be so easy to deal with when he was awake. But she might not have made this trip by herself. He’d dropped everything to go with her. No questions asked. Nothing asked in return.
Amazing. Who’d have guessed Frat Boy had a heart of gold?
And was such a great lover? So giving, so tender. No wham-bam, all-over sex. The before and after was every bit as good.
He stirred, smiled at her. “Hey. Good morning. Did you sleep at all?”
“A little. How did you sleep?” Weird, how conversation could be misleading. To an observer, it probably sounded like a normal exchange, one they had every day. It probably appeared they were a longtime couple, maybe on an annual trip home.
Except this trip was far from usual.
“Are you okay?” Dylan’s hand covered hers.
“It’s funny. I used to wonder how I’d react in this kind of situation. If I’d go back home.”
“They’re your parents.”
She nodded. “There’s really no question when it’s family.”
“So you haven’t seen them in a while?”
“Yeah, a while. Almost eight years.” Her mother had given up calling years ago. The sound of her voice on the other end of the line yesterday shocked Clarissa almost as much as the news of her father’s sudden illness. “The trick will be avoiding my mother while I’m there.”
“You shouldn’t.”
She sighed. “Oh please. I’m supposed to go there and act like a good girl and do whatever Mommy says? No way.”
“Hey, I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to, Frat Boy.” Why did it kill her to call him that? She’d hoped he’d turn out to be more than that, but now she wondered.
He gave a wry smile. “Did you ever stop to think you could define your relationships rather than simply cutting a person out of your life?”
“You just—”
“Hear me out, Clarissa. You put up a wall to keep your parents out. Why?”
“They expect me to live according to their terms.” Why should she have to explain herself? And yet it didn’t bother her this time.
He shrugged. “You choose not to follow their expectations. It doesn’t mean you can’t still keep them in your life. What if your dad died?”
“I’d grieve for him.”
“And you’d mourn the time you could have had together. Love can be messy. You take the good with the bad. But don’t blame them if you let them control you.”
“So you’re suggesting I pretend to be their ideal daughter when I’m with them?”
“Absolutely not. Be yourself. You’re amazing. Show
them
how amazing you are. On your own terms.”
Heat rushed through her. A compliment. Had he intended to? And were they still talking about her relationship to her parents when he spoke of love?
He settled back in his seat. “I’m just throwing it on the table for your consideration.”
“You’ve given me a lot to consider.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” Time to shift the focus from her to him. “How long has it been since you last visited your folks?”
His gaze flicked up. His smile grew tight. “Four years.”
“Do they live far away?”
He shook his head slowly. “They moved just outside the city last year.”
Something terrible must have happened between them. She couldn’t intrude upon his privacy by asking, so just said, “Oh.”
“I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“No, I asked. Which I shouldn’t have.”
“Why not?”
“You probably don’t want to talk about it. Or if you do, please go ahead.”
“It’s…” He shrugged, his smile sad. “My brother, um…”
“Oh, no. Did he die?” She’d been so self-involved, always focusing on her own brother’s death, she never considered Dylan had dealt with the same tragedy.
“I don’t know.” The words choked him. “He’d been in and out of rehab so many times. My parents gave up on him. The last time he’d been released, he disappeared the day after going home with my parents. We found him in a shelter a few weeks later. Said he’d rather live on the street than with them.”
“Were they awful to you?”
A wince faded with a shake of his head. “Controlling. I like to think they thought they were being good parents. Maybe they hoped we’d turn out the opposite of them—hippies, late bloomers, whatever—but they pushed us both so hard. Donnie pushed back. Stealing. Drugs. He dropped out of tenth grade. That was the first time they committed him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“It must have been terrible for you.”
His cheek flinched with the effort to smile, but yielded only a lopsided grin. “I should have stood up for him. Instead, I became the perfect son. The overachiever. I carried all their hopes and dreams over the finish line for the big touchdown. And the crowd went wild.” He imitated the stadium crowd hiss. “Dylan and Donovan, their parents must not be worthless after all.”
“At least they had good taste in music?”
“A bit trite to name us after their musical idols, don’t you think? Okay, your turn.”
“For what?”
“Why’d you leave home and not look back?”
“I had a brother, too.”
“Uh-oh. Had?”
“Diagnosed with leukemia in middle school.” The image it conjured surprised her with its vividness. Brad, so small in his hospital bed, so pale, but with the biggest smile. “The bravest kid. So much braver than me.”
“Hey, you survived it. That had to be hell, watching him go through it.”
Hell was a mild term for it. She gave a humorless laugh. “I was the Donnie of the family.”
“Oh, no.” Genuine concern weighted his words.
“Not drugs, but I pushed back in other ways. I just…shut down for a while.”
“It’s understandable.”
“Is it? Tell that to my mom and dad. I couldn’t be their perfect child. So I became their worst nightmare.”
“They should have known better. If your dad’s a therapist…he is, isn’t he?”
She nodded. He’d guessed correctly. Wow, was that only last week? “I was living proof of their failings. An embarrassment. They used me as leverage against each other when their marriage began falling apart, and I couldn’t take it. I knew college would be a disaster, so I got in the Civic my parents gave me when I graduated high school and just drove.”
He traced his fingers across her butterfly tattoo on her wrist. “Did they know you cut yourself?”
She jerked her arm away. She’d never told anyone that. No one ever asked. “I—”
“Don’t deny it. The scars are there. Disguised by ink, but they’re there.”
A tenderness filled her, something she hadn’t known for much too long. Only someone who’d done it themselves would recognize the signs. “Did you….”
He shook his head. “I thought about it. Held the razor right here.” He laid a finger across his neck.
“Your carotid artery?” She could hardly speak the word. “You weren’t going to just cut.”
“No. I wanted out. But I decided to get free another way. Success. It took a little longer.”
“Money has its own trappings.” And its own freedoms, she’d found since her candles started to sell so well.
“Not always. People deal with it fine. I did, until I dug myself into a hole. It finally dawned on me after the wedding. Jeff didn’t give up success, he embraced his own version of it.” He shrugged. “I’m not too old to learn.”
A strange emotion billowed in her chest. As she gripped his hand, she knew what it was. Pride. “Good for you.”
He looked at her, long and hard, like he saw down to her soul. “I wouldn’t have been able to say that before going to Marfa.”
“It does have that effect on people.”
He squeezed her hand. “You do. You make me want to be a better person. To be like you.”
She gulped hard. “I’m not better than you. I treated you terribly.”
“You lashed out because I reminded you of the pain you ran away from. You must have hated growing up in a college town. Surrounded by Princeton frat boys.”
“It’s no excuse.”
“I forgive you. If you forgive me for being an arrogant ass.”
She couldn’t help her smile. What man admitted such a fault? That alone earned him a, “Done.”
***
Princeton. Its ivy-covered university buildings still gave Clarissa the willies. Route 1 was little better, strip malls side by side with research parks. And the locals had the nerve to call her a freak.