Games of the Heart

  Mr. Haines was like his Dad.

  But he also knew that Mr. Haines had been with his Aunt Debbie in high school. This he didn’t get. Then again, he couldn’t imagine anyone with his Aunt Debbie and totally not someone as cool as Mr. Haines. And last, he got the sense his Dad wanted his Aunt Dusty to have a go at Mr. Haines. He was always mentioning him to her when she was around or when they talked on the phone. Too much. It was weird. Aunt Dusty lived in freaking Texas. It wasn’t like she could make an easy play. Still, it seemed Dad was pushing for it. Then again, Dad and Aunt Dusty were tight and Dad liked family around. Even Aunt Debbie. So he’d push something like that to get Aunt Dusty home.

  God, this was fucking awesome. If Aunt Dusty was with Mr. Haines, she’d move home and help out.

  “They broke up.”

  These words came from Clarisse and he focused on her.

  “What?” he repeated.

  “I don’t know what happened. I…I just heard Dad talkin’ to her once and it seemed all good then I heard him talkin’ to his partner at work and he said it was done.”

  Shit.

  “I…well,” she turned and pulled her book bag around to her front then dug in it. She came out with some girl-covered books and held them between him and her. “These are your aunt’s. It’s kinda weird, I know, to read them and there’s some bad stuff in them that’s kinda, um…creepy and upsetting. She wrote them a long time ago. She was, well…into my Dad back then and, well, I don’t know what went on but the way she was into him then it makes it sad that they hooked up and then, um…didn’t stay that way.”

  Fin stared at the books.

  Clarisse kept talking.

  “I…I think that, um…well, actually, I know that if she was closer, Dad would, uh…try to get in there again, I mean, uh…with your aunt.” She stopped and Fin’s eyes went to hers so she went on again and fast, her cheeks getting pink. “Sorry. You think this is weird.”

  “You’re tryin’ to get them back together?” he asked.

  “I know, it’s weird,” she started to step away muttering, “forget it.”

  He reached out, caught her hand tight and she froze. All except for her head which jerked back to look at him.

  He kept hold of her hand and said quietly, “It isn’t weird, Rees.”

  She blinked then whispered, “Is she, um…cool? I mean, her diaries make her seem cool but she wrote them a long time ago.”

  Fin kept holding her hand as he grinned and replied, “Oh yeah, Aunt Dusty is the shit. Totally.”

  She seemed to relax like this was good news and she was relieved.

  Then she carried on, “I know she lives far away and I don’t know how to get her back. I don’t know how long it would take Dad to –”

  Fin grinned, squeezed her hand and cut her off. “I know how to get her back.”

  “You do?” she whispered.

  Her whisper and her eyes getting big like that was really fucking cute.

  “I do,” he said soft.

  “Oh.” She was still whispering and the way she did it was even cuter.

  “Can I have those?” he asked, tipping his head down to the books.

  She tensed again and shook her head. “I don’t know. They’re kind of personal and maybe, because she’s your aunt, you shouldn’t know what’s in them. And I don’t know why my Dad has them and he notices stuff. If they’re gone for a long time, he’ll notice. Definitely.”

  “I’ll read them and I swear I won’t say a word to anyone. And I’ll do it quick and get them back to you. Promise. Cool?”

  She bit her lip and considered this awhile. Then she offered the books to him.

  He let her hand go and took them.

  Then he said, “You gotta give me your number.”

  “What?” she breathed and he grinned.

  She was totally fucking into him.

  “Your cell, Rees. So we can plan.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  He dug his cell out of his back pocket. She dug hers out of her purse. He programmed in her number. She did the same with his.

  The bell rang and Fin told her, “I’ll call you.”

  “Uh…okay.”

  He smiled at her and her eyes dropped to his mouth.

  That wasn’t cute. That was something else altogether.

  “This’ll be cool,” he promised and her eyes went back to his.

  She nodded.

  “Later, Rees,” he said, still smiling.

  “Later, Fin,” she replied then she turned and moved away.

  She was fourteen and a freshman. Out of his zone.

  But he decided to expand his zone as he walked to his locker.

  * * * * *

  Fin shoved the journals into his book bag. It was late. He’d just finished reading them.

  His skin felt strange, like it was prickly and his palms were sweating.

  This was because his Aunt Dusty was the shit. He loved her. She loved him and Kirb and their Dad and their Ma and she showed it in ways he always liked. And he knew she’d done what she could so Aunt Debbie wouldn’t take over when Dad died but Aunt Debbie got her way as usual and he knew it ticked Aunt Dusty off. Not because she was just ticked. But because she’d done what his Ma should do, and, seriously, also his Gram, and tried to do right by his Dad, Fin and Kirb after Dad died. She just was up against Aunt Debbie who his Dad said more than once was a ball buster and since Aunt Dusty didn’t have balls, Aunt Debbie rolled right over her.

  And that crazy, fucking psycho serial killer had touched her.

  His Aunt Dusty.

  And that made him feel sick to his stomach just as it made him feel like punching his fist through a wall.

  He couldn’t do the last because if he did his Ma would lose what was left of her marbles.

  So he had to tamp it down, bury it deep and sort out the rest of the shit in that journal.

  Because, if what Clarisse said was true and his Aunt Dusty hooked up with Mr. Haines, that was a long fucking time coming.

  And if they broke up, that sucked huge.

  And Clarisse was right and she didn’t even know how right she was.

  This needed to happen.

  It needed to happen so Aunt Dusty would move home, help with his Ma, help with the farm and Fin wouldn’t be facing all this shit alone.

  It needed to happen because Aunt Dusty loved that land like Dad, like Fin and Ma had no hope of talking Aunt Debbie down if she wanted to sell it. But Aunt Dusty would sell it over her dead body. It sucked to think that thought but he knew it was fucking true. She might have lost on the whole gig around Dad’s funeral. But she wouldn’t stand for Fin losing his legacy. No fucking way. She’d fight to the death and Fin knew it.

  It needed to happen because Mr. Haines was once with his Aunt Debbie and it might not be nice but it was the truth that he liked the idea of Mr. Haines and Aunt Dusty being happy together and Aunt Debbie having to live with that. She’d hate it. Like, a lot. And Fin liked that.

  And it needed to happen because it was a little weird reading it but there was no denying his Aunt Dusty really, really liked Mr. Haines. And the way she did, he knew, he didn’t know how but he still knew that kind of feeling didn’t die.

  So it needed to happen for Aunt Dusty.

  It was late. He was supposed to be asleep. But he didn’t hesitate grabbing his cell and scrolling to Aunt Dusty.

  She answered on the first ring, her musical voice he always thought was kick-freaking-ass was heavy with obvious concern, “Hey, honey. It’s late. You okay?”

  Fin took in a deep breath.

  Then he said, “No.”

  * * * * *

  Like she was waiting for it, which she was, the minute her cell vibrated on her nightstand, Clarisse’s eyes opened and she snatched it up.

  The display said, “Fin Calling”.

  She’d turned off her ringer, just in case. And set it on her nightstand with more hope than certainty and when she said hope, she meant a w
hole lot of it.

  And the call came.

  She was breathing funny when she hit the button and put it to her ear.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey. It’s all good.”

  She felt her belly flip and not just because dark-haired, tall, broad-shouldered, deep-voiced, available junior Fin Holliday was talking to her at past eleven at night when she was in bed in the dark. But also because he said it’s all good.

  “Is she coming back?” Clarisse asked.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  “For how long?”

  “Well, she’s bringin’ her horses and her kilns with her so, my guess, a while.”

  “What?” Clarisse asked, not understanding.

  “She makes pottery and has to fire it in kilns. And she has horses she likes to ride. So, what I’m sayin’ is, she’s comin’ up here long enough to stay a while, work a while and I know this because she isn’t leavin’ her kilns or her animals behind.”

  Clarisse’s belly flipped again and she whispered, “Awesome.”

  “You’re up, babe.”

  Ohmigod! Fin Holliday called her “babe”!

  “What?” she breathed.

  “She gets here, you gotta get your Dad over here. I’ll make the coast clear, get Mom and Kirb out for a while. I’ll text you. She says she needs a week or so to sort shit out down in Texas. But at lunch tomorrow, we’ll plan.”

  That was practically a date!

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Cool. Later Rees.”

  “Later, Fin.”

  She hit the button to disconnect.

  Then she put her phone back on the nightstand.

  Then she stared at its shadow through the dark and she did this a long, long time.

  Finally, feeling better about just about everything, Clarisse Haines fell asleep smiling.

  Chapter Seven

  All It Ever Felt Was Right

  Mike turned his head and watched his daughter wander up the backyard, Layla bouncing at her side.

  For the last ten minutes she’d been out there at the back gate, the gate open, standing in it, her hand lifted, cell to her ear.

  Something new was going on with Clarisse. Instead of seeming lost, being lazy and lying, she seemed focused, he just didn’t know on what, full of energy and secretive.

  He could not say he didn’t like this change, except the last. She got her homework done before he asked her. Her grades which had started to take a turn for the worse, except for English which never dropped, were improving. She texted him nearly every night to ask when he was due home. Then, when he got home, she was in the kitchen cooking. Before he went to bed at night, the dishes were done and even the counters were wiped clean. For over two weeks, he hadn’t done a single piece of laundry and all his clothes were clean, folded and put away. Both his kids got their chores done without him having to get on them. No had even asked for money because Reesee had written out a grocery list of what they needed and he’d volunteered to go. Three times.

  All this and she hadn’t asked him for her allowance even though she knew she wasn’t going to get it. She had five weeks left on her backlog. She also hadn’t been to the mall with her girls. Not once.

  And she was on the phone, a lot. And texting, a lot. This was not abnormal. She did this with her girl posse. But what was abnormal was the little smile he did not like that played at her mouth during some of the texting. He also did not like the light that hit her eyes both after her phone binged with texts she’d just read or after she wandered down from upstairs and he knew she’d had some call.

  He let her alone about this. First because she was a teenage girl and as much as he didn’t like it, he knew it eventually would happen. And he knew exactly what was happening from that smile and the light in her eyes that was far from difficult to read. Second because he did not want to know.

  But the rest was a mystery.

  He figured, since her birthday was imminent, she was buttering him up. He asked his kids for wish lists every year for birthdays and Christmas and hers this year for her birthday was long.

  Her roping No into helping out, though, was overkill.

  Maybe she’d sorted herself out.

  Or maybe she had a boy who was interested in her and she was riding that high and spreading the joy.

  He figured with those little smiles and the light in her eyes, it was both. And thinking his pretty daughter who was turning fifteen had a guy on her hook made him wish something he never thought he’d fucking wish. And that was that Reesee was back at lost, lazy and lying.

  Christ.

  She opened the door and came in, Layla bounding in with her.

  “Hey, Dad,” she greeted, eyes lit, mouth smiling, shrugging off her jacket.

  “There a reason you’re standin’ outside in the cold, dark February night starin’ at the Holliday Farm?”

  Her jacket dangling from her fingers, her eyes lit again but not in the way that made him lament for the first time in his life he didn’t have two sons because he figured this next phase might just kill him.

  Studying her closely, Mike still didn’t get this new light.

  Then he couldn’t think of it at all when she replied chirpily, “Yeah. Rumor has it Fin and Kirby’s Aunt Dusty is movin’ to town and she has horses. I was hoping to see them.”

  “Pardon?” he asked softly.

  She walked to the couch, her eyes never leaving his and tossed her jacket on the back.

  “Finley Holliday’s Aunt Dusty is movin’ in. His Mom isn’t doin’ too good and they’ll be plantin’ soon. So she’s moved back from Texas or, uh…wherever and she’s gonna be around a while to help out.”

  Mike stared at his daughter.

  Fuck. Shit.

  Fuck.

  “Anyway,” she went on and with effort he focused on her, “I didn’t see the horses. I did see Fin and Kirb leavin’ with their Mom. Didn’t catch a glimpse at their aunt though. Maybe that drive from wherever with her horses wore her out or something.”

  Dusty was home.

  Dusty was home and was going to be home a while.

  Dusty was fucking next door, home for a while and right then home alone.

  Mike knifed off the couch muttering, “I gotta go somewhere. I won’t be back for a while.”

  He was walking down the hall when Reesee called, “Okay Dad, see you later.”

  Mike lifted a hand and flicked out two fingers but didn’t look back.

  He just grabbed his jacket, his keys and walked out the door.

  * * * * *

  Grinning, Clarisse bent her neck, lifted the phone in both hands and her thumbs flew over the keyboard.

  Worked like a charm. He’s already gone, she typed then hit send.

  Five seconds later, her phone binged and at the top of the text it said, “Fin”.

  The text said, Awesome.

  Her grin got bigger and she skipped down the hall and jogged up the stairs to her room, Layla following.

  * * * * *

  “You forget something?” I called when the front door opened.

  Fin, Kirb and Rhonda just left. A movie. Rhonda was against it and even I wasn’t so sure since it was a romantic comedy. But for some reason Fin was adamant they “get out of the house, let Aunt Dusty relax and settle”.

  Fin was a good kid, thoughtful, attentive, he noticed things but even for Fin, that was weird.

  And I was not sure Rhonda needed to go to a romantic comedy. A reminder of romance I did not think would be a good thing. It had been over a month and my sister-in-law was still skating the edge of grief gone bad. Her eyes were sunken in her head. She’d lost weight. And she was even more flighty than normal to the point she was nearly hazy.

  Not good.

  Maybe they were home because Rhonda had called a halt to them going out on a school night after dinner all the way to the mall to watch a movie that wouldn’t get her and the boys home
until after ten.

  Then again, Rhonda didn’t have much of a backbone so I couldn’t imagine, even though it was clear she didn’t want to go, she’d be able to pull that off.

  I was in the living room flat out on the couch. It had been a long three-day haul, me and my babies. Fin was right about one thing, I was tuckered right the hell out. I needed to relax and settle. And I was doing that with a beer and really shitty TV.

  “No, you did. You forgot to lock the door.”

  That answer came not from Fin, not from Kirb and not from Rhonda but from a deep, familiar voice.

  I froze then shot to my feet, whirling to the door to see Mike standing there.

  What the fuck?

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  Then I watched with astonished eyes as he shrugged off his leather jacket and threw it on an armchair like he was going to stay a while.

  My eyes went from his jacket to his face and I felt them narrow.

  “We need to talk,” he announced.

  “No we don’t,” I replied immediately.

  “Yes we do,” he shot back.

  “Get out,” I ordered then I was moving back and doing this quickly and instinctively. And I was doing this because he was moving forward faster and with purpose.

  Toward me.

  I scuttled backward across the room, hit a cabinet, adjusted then my back hit the wall about half a second before Mike hit me. His body to mine, his hand at the side of my neck sliding back and up into my hair and his other arm curling low at my waist.

  My heart was beating like a jackhammer as I looked up at him, shocked.

  “What are you doing?” It came out breathy which pissed me right off.

  “Like I said, we’re going to talk.” That came out firm but soft and warm with his eyes staring straight into mine also being warm but visibly determined.

  “Step back,” I demanded.

  “No.”

  “Step back!” I snapped.

  He pressed me into the wall and repeated a low, “No.”

  “Are you crazy?” I asked, forcing my hands between us to push him off but this was a mistake. A big one. Because his arm slid up my back then grew tighter and it trapped my hands and arms between us.