excerpt
Rain beat softly against the windows, droplets beading on the glass, obscuring the view of the outside world in little pools like thousands of little mirrors. Each one distorted and unique while preserving each detail of the trees and sky and the grass.
Schumann’s Träumerei floated quietly into the room from the piano in the corner where he had sat down to play for her.
They were haunting her; the music and the rain. This place had been their escape for the end of the summer season, a futile wish to hold onto what they thought they had.
He had told her many times over the summer months that he played the piano very well—that he had taken lessons all throughout childhood and chose not to play not because of lack of skill but lack of passion for the instrument at this point in his life. That had changed when they arrived here several weeks ago on the tails of late August’s warm sun. It was September now and the leaves had already begun to fall, the nights were colder, and it was raining every other day.
When at last the piano faded into silence she turned to face him.
He sat with his head hanging down, fingertips resting gently on the keys. They stroked them absentmindedly, as if he wished to continue playing but couldn’t decide what he wanted to perform.
“We can’t hide here anymore,” she whispered to him.
He turned slowly on the piano bench, staring at her without expression. “We’re not hiding.”
Her mouth turned up in a small smile.
”I am.”
She stood in the grass, a motionless figure in a red wool coat against the silver fog that settled on the ground. The fawn greyhound that belonged to her grandparents stood beside her, tongue lolling out of it’s narrow muzzle, eyes watching the grass swaying in the breeze. It had stopped raining for the moment.
Without warning Clodie sprang forward, a blur of tan slicing through the tall grass. A brown rabbit raced out of the grass, heading for the woods along the south side of the estate. The hunter and prey disappeared between the tree trunks for a few seconds before coming back out into the clearing. She watched her tears stinging her eyes, her lips parted in shock as the dog ran down the rabbit, snatching it up with its narrow muzzle. She couldn’t look away as the dog gave a sharp shake, the rabbit screamed and then fell silent. It twitched with involuntary spasms for a few seconds before falling limp, dangling from the dog’s mouth.
There was a proud change in the dog’s gait as it trotted back, the rabbit bouncing with each step.
She cringed and quickly turned away, heading back to the house, ignoring the dog keeping stride. The dog was left on the front lawn tearing into the fur and muscle, the gruesome sounds of snapping bones chased her into the large house.
Their real lives were beckoning to them. His job was calling, asking him if he was going to be back soon. Her parents wondered if her grades would slip if she missed any more of the school year.
It was dawn, the room was cold from the window left open a few inches but the fresh air was nice. They were wrapped around each other under the featherbed, her nose pressed against his throat. His strong thigh was between hers as he held her in his sleep. She slipped into his room every morning just before the sun came up to spend this time with him—she would leave before anyone else was awake so as not to raise suspicion. It was enough that her grandparents were letting them stay together under the same roof. She was certain she would never hear the end of it if they knew they were lying in bed together—nevermind that she was still in her pajamas and he was wearing a shirt and pajama pants as well. This was not sex, this was the need to be close, to be together in sleep.
But she was still awake, mesmerized by the beat of his heart, the sound of his soft breathing—almost a snore but too quiet to be irritating. He shifted a little, pulling her tighter against him. She smiled and gently stroked his shoulder, his arm, enjoying the smooth skin stretched taught over lean muscles. Raising her head the tiniest bit, she pressed her lips to his, lingering as she felt him sigh contentedly and his warm breath against her mouth. He looked innocent and child-like when he slept, the lines of his face relaxed, his dark lashes fanned across his beautiful cheekbones. It was more to do with his eyes being hidden, the anxiety and weariness that seemed to always cloud them even when she knew he was happy.
Did he dream? she wondered. Would he dream in color or black and white? She rarely dreamed in color and they were always short tableaux, usually without dialogue. Like a flash of a scene from a silent movie and never making sense.
The last dream she remembered was of course about him. He was standing a few feet away in an empty room, watching her. It wasn’t frightening or unsettling—but confusing. She never tried to approach him, she was speaking to someone else that she couldn’t see, always aware of him staring at her.
Birds began to sing and warble outside in the treetops. It was almost time for her to leave him but she was so warm and comfortable—she felt a strange sense of dread at the thought of moving from the bed. Maybe it wasn’t as late as she assumed. Maybe she still had a few more minutes…
“I can practically hear you thinking. Stop worrying and go to sleep,” he muttered in a deep, raspy voice.
She laughed in surprise that he was awake and she hadn’t noticed. He opened his eyes the tiniest bit, the bright silver color all but glowing in the faint light from the window. Her heart fluttered at the smile lingering at the corners of his mouth because he was looking at her. He had never said “I love you” but she imagined that he did love her, and that was what made him look at her that way.
“Do you have dreams?” she whispered.
“Mmhmm,” he hummed, nodding twice. He didn’t open his eyes any further but didn’t close them.
“What about?”
“It would make you blush,” he mumbled. A wicked smile appeared on his lips and he chuckled.
“I hope I was somewhere in that dream,” she told him quietly.
“The star,” he assured her. He took a deep breath, yawning hugely.
It was quiet for several moments; his eyes drifted shut and his breathing evened out again. She kissed him one last time before carefully untangling herself from his grasp, shivering as she slipped from beneath the featherbed into the cold room. She paused at the door, staring at the contrast of his tanned skin against the bright white of the featherbed, his dark hair tousled and boyish on the pillow.
It was going to be so hard to let go…
The door shut with a quiet click.
It was after midnight. They were driving back to the city, away from the serenity of the country, finally free of their bucolic dream.
He was driving—that was a given. She had reclined her seat, staring at the dark shapes of trees on the side of the road, the occasional glow of other headlights heading in the opposite direction. The radio was on but turned down low, just white noise. His jacket was draped over her as she leaned into the door, trying to find a comfortable position.
“You’re going to call him after you drop me off, aren’t you?” she asked after she hadn’t spoken in over an hour.
His head snapped around, he glared at her for a split second before his attention returned to the road. “I don’t know,” was his noncommital reply.
She felt the back of her nose prickle, tears welled before she could stop herself from feeling so hopeless. “I try so hard to believe you want to change, but I don’t think you can…I don’t think you want to.”
“We’ll talk about this later.”
“There won’t be later,” she choked out past the lump in her throat. “I won’t stay while you ruin your life.”
“Stop being dramatic.” His tone was harsh and she flinched at the anger he unleashed with those three words.
“I’m not being dramatic. You want me to think it’s okay to let you keep doing it, but I can’t. I’ve given up so much for you, you take and take and never try to give anything back to me. I’m empty, Errol. I don’t have anything more to give you.”
She stared at the ticking muscle in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. His hands gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled strength.
“I won’t make promises I know I can’t keep,” he growled.
“Don’t promise me anything. Make the decision to stop for yourself, not for me or anyone else.”
“I can stop if I want to,” he bit out.
“But you don’t want to,” she clarified.
He gave a sharp nod.
It was impossible to look away from him, at the shadows sliding over his face each time a car passed by on the other side of the highway. He was beautiful to her—perfect in every line, the hard set to his chin, the slightly crooked set of his nose.
She didn’t think that he believed her. They had tried to work out a plan to try to get him clean while they stayed with her grandparents. If he didn’t make the choice to stop drinking, doing cocaine, she was going to walk away. It was the last thing she wanted to do…to abandon him. Everyone else always left him, they never stuck around. She had been so adamant that she would never leave him, no matter what. But how could she love him and stand by while he wasted his life away on drugs and alcohol. He didn’t think he had a problem; he always said he could stop—he just wasn’t ready yet.
He thought that his hold on her was so absolute that she wouldn’t be able to leave him. Maybe he was right, maybe if it came down to it she would stay but she had to at least try. It was like choosing which hand to cut off—you didn’t want to have to decide between the two but there was no other way.
The summer was gone, along with the empty declarations that he would get clean, he would try rehab for a while. He didn’t need cocaine, he would remind her in a tone that conveyed a sense that she was slow. It was fun, it made him happy, it wasn’t hurting anyone.
“I won’t see you for a while,” she told him. “I have to concentrate on school and my parents told me I have to ‘buckle down’.” It was a lie—he was adored by her parents. They didn’t know anything of his cocaine problem, of the way he used her and manipulated her. The times they had gone to parties, where she had gotten drunk and stayed in his bed when she was supposedly at her cousin’s house. They had no idea that he was several years older than they assumed. They had no idea that she loved him more than she wanted her next breath…
“That’s fine,” he replied flippantly. “I have to make up my time off anyway. I’ll probably be working six days a week for a while.”
It was like they were trying to assure the other that they would be the one too busy to see each other.
He noticed a blue road sign. “Rest area in a couple miles, do you want me to stop?”
“Yes.” She wanted to go to the bathroom and stretch her legs.
“Okay.”
Crickets chirped in a deafening chorus as she walked towards the small, brightly lit building to use the bathroom. He was smoking a cigarette by the picnic tables. Except for a few RVs and semis, they were the only people to stop at the rest area right now. She splashed some water on her face after she washed her hands, staring at her reflection. She was always surprised at how young her face told her she was—she felt so old now. Everything had changed since meeting him. Her thoughts were consumed with worry over him, she seemed to always be frowning, deep in thought when they were apart and she wasn’t there to watch him.
At seventeen she was naive enough to assume she could save him and change him. Her love had to be strong enough to make him choose the right path…
Wasn’t it?
Her green eyes widened the slightest bit, she looked away from the mirror and ran outside, needing to see him. He was where she left him, sitting on the table rather than the bench that he rested his feet on, his arms braced on his knees. His head was down, shoulders slumped. She was still wearing his jacket, the sleeves too long, hanging past her fingertips. The grass muffled her footsteps as she walked over to him. He looked up when she was a few feet away. He didn’t smile, his expression didn’t change as he took one last drag on his cigarette before tossing it into the damp grass.
She stopped, wondering at the mood he was in. He looked distracted even as he stared at her, like he was thinking and only pretending to see her.
“Errol.” She said his name, he gave a little smile and his eyes focused, the little frown pulling his eyebrows together disappeared. He hopped off of the table and closed the distance between them, his arms stealing around her, lifting her off the ground to turn around in a slow circle. She swayed against him when he set her down but kept his arms around her so she could lean her weight against him.
“I can’t promise you anything,” he said again, pressing his forehead to hers, continuing in a desperate whisper, “But please don’t leave me.”
He knew just what to say. He could get away with telling her he wouldn’t do anything that she asked of him while snaring her with her love for him. It wasn’t fair. It shouldn’t work out this way.
She touched his cheek, shaking her head. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”
He held her hand as they walked back to the car, he opened her door, shut it after her. She turned in the seat, facing him, but kept her face buried in the excess of his coat. Her eyes didn’t open until he dropped her off at her house, helping her carry her suitcase upstairs to her room. Her parents were asleep, they were as quiet as possible as they got her settled.
He kissed her goodbye, lingering, trying to get her to promise she would stay with him. Willing her to admit that she couldn’t deny him anything. Nothing. She was all his while he remained a mystery to her.
“I’ll call you,” he promised.
“Goodnight.”
She watched him walk back to his car, the way he stared at her over the roof of it, standing behind the open door. They stood there just watching each other. It was almost sunrise. She loved this time of day—the moon was slipping away, the sunlight was creeping in. The grass sparkled with dew, the sky turned soft shades of gold and pink. She imagined that heaven would look like this all of the time—caught between night and day, never promising either.
A wry smile twisted his mouth, he shook his head at a silent thought. It scared her—as if he had decided something, come to a conclusion in the moment they had just shared. She leaned onto the porch, one foot moving forward. Her voice was filled with sincerity when she called to him, quietly but clearly, “I love you.”
The smile widened into a grin. He gave a little wave before ducking into the car, the door slamming shut behind him. The engine roared to life and he drove away. She knew he wasn’t going to call. It still made her heart ache even though she wasn’t expecting it when the phone never rang. Her parents said nothing and kept their distance.
