Page 19
I grinned. It was all crystal clear. They sent the elderly woman in to do the dirty work because they knew the captive wouldn't kick out at his grandmother. It was ingenious. The noise level around me increased to a fever pitch as his nana stopped a foot from him. "What did you say again?" she asked wickedly.
"I said, Florida football teams suck!" Dean hollered, owning his statement proudly just before the pie landed smack dab in his face.
Everyone started cheering and I couldn't resist joining in. They were a family unlike any I had ever seen. Their affection was contagious as they all took turns slapping Dean on the back while whipped cream fell from his face in big old globs. Watching them made me envision my own future. By choosing to live, I had given myself the chance to have a family like this someday. We could start our own traditions, stand up for each other and above all else, forgive each other for our faults. I wanted this future. At that moment, I couldn't help thinking about James. Would a future like this even be possible for people like us?
The sun had set by the time the football game ended on the big TV. The atmosphere had mellowed out as the younger children were carted off to bed. Most the men were snoring in their chairs, obviously full from desert. Trish and I spent the majority of the football game chatting and getting to know each other. I enjoyed the conversation more than I thought I would. It had been years since I had talked to a girl around my age that didn't look at me with disdain. It was nice.
"How's it going?" Dean asked, coming up beside me.
"Good," I said honestly. With the exception of the initial hugs and my freak out after his tackle, it had been possibly the best day of my life. Any of the apprehension I had felt about sticking out like a sore thumb had never surfaced. His family had accepted me as one of their own without a qualm.
"I'm glad," he said sincerely, tucking a lock of my windblown hair around behind my ear.
"I better go see if Mom needs help getting the twins down," Trish said, standing up. "Madison, it was really nice to meet you. Don't forget our lunch date when I come home for winter break. "
"I won't. Thanks for keeping me company this afternoon. "
"Absolutely. "
"So, what would you like to do now?" Dean asked, checking his phone for the time. "We still have a few hours before we need to head home. "
"Truthfully?" I asked.
"Yeah, truthfully. The sky's the limit. "
"Well, I'd really like to take a turn on the tire swing by your parents' house," I said self-consciously.
"I can do that," he said, leaning in to brush a quick kiss across my forehead.
My pulse did its normal racing when his lips hovered so close to mine. He grinned down at me confidently before reaching down to help me up. He was playing me like an instrument. Making me accustomed to his touch. Making me hyperaware of his every movement.
"Let's go say our goodbyes so we can head out. "
"Will there be hugging involved?"
"Without a doubt," he answered.
"Bring it on," I said, resigning myself to the multiple hugs.
Much to my surprise, the farewell hugs didn't feel nearly as oppressive as the greetings had. In one short day, I had come to know almost everyone at the get-together. They had all taken a moment to chat with me at least once throughout the day. Some had chatted longer, making me feel included.
Just when I thought I had the hugging thing down pat, Pete ruined it by holding me too tightly and allowing his hand to cup my ass before he released me. Glaring at him, I jerked back and shoved him away.
It took every bit of strength I had in me to resist knocking the smug look off his sleazy freaking face. I looked around for Dean, suddenly very anxious to leave.
"It's all good, Madison. We're cousins, so we share everything," he taunted, emphasizing the word while he reached out a finger to stroke my wrist.
"Really? How about another hug then?" I said, inviting him closer.
He stepped toward me with his arms open as I thrusted my knee into his crotch, sending him to the ground in a heap.
Stepping closer to him, I went in for the kill. "You ever touch me like that again and you're fucking dead. Got me?" I said, flicking him on the ear, just to emphasize my point. I turned away from him in disgust.
"Bravo," Travis said, sliding up beside me. "I'm pretty sure you got your point across. Of course, I think I might need to add in my two cents. "
"You all right, cous? You gotta be more careful watching where you walk," Travis said, reaching a hand down to help him up. Pete's eyes widened in pain as Travis obviously squeezed his hand. "We don't share everything. Got me, dipshit?" he said, before strutting away and leaving a shell-shocked Pete in his wake.
"What was all that about?" Dean asked, joining me.
"He fell," I lied.
"Pete? What a doof. Pete, do we need to get you some kneepads or something?" Dean teased, unwittingly adding more insult to Pete's injury.
"You ready?" he asked, turning back to me.
"Sure," I answered, looking back at the lit-up patchwork house one last time. Despite Pete's groping hand, I was sad to leave. Facing my silent existence in my own house seemed cruel after spending a day with them. Death would almost be more welcoming than being alone, even for a second. Someday, I would have a life like the one I had experienced today. A life where I wouldn't give death a second thought as I actually lived.
"Will your parents mind that we're out here?" I asked Dean when he pulled into the dirt drive in front of his parents' house a few minutes later.
"Not at all. As long as we don't run around screaming like a bunch of loons and keeping the twins up," he added, climbing from the jeep.
I followed behind him, trying not to trip in the dark. The beams from the porch light didn't quite reach the area where we were walking. Dean reached over and grabbed my hand to help guide me over the tree roots that had broken through the soil.
Reaching the tire swing, I cautiously climbed on, waiting for Dean to join me.
"Hang on," he said, pulling the tire swing all the way back until the ropes wouldn't stretch any farther. Finally releasing the tension, he allowed gravity to take over.
I laughed in exhilaration as the cool breeze tickled my neck and my hair blew around me in the night sky. I swayed back and forth with Dean shoving the tire each time I passed to aid my momentum.
Finally, he grabbed the rope, jerking me to a stop. "That was great," I said, looking up.
"You want me to do it again?"
"Yes, please," I answered eagerly.
I lost track of how many times Dean swung me back and forth. Eventually, he let the swing come to a halt and we sat facing each other. The excitement of the ride dissipated inside me as something new took hold. I knew without a shadow of a doubt he was going to kiss me. I was ready for it now. Somewhere along the way, he had earned my trust. I knew he wouldn't hurt me.
Whether he saw the eagerness in my eyes, or was feeling the same pull, he moved his hands up to cup my face, holding me gently in place. My eyes held his as he gently brushed his thumb across my lower lip making it tremble in response.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered, leaning in close.
"I know," I said with a slight shake in my voice.
"You are so beautiful," he said, placing his lips lightly on my cheek. Leaving a trail of light kisses along my cheek and chin, he slowly approached my lips. Everything inside me seemed to quiver.
"Do you want me to kiss you?" he asked, placing his lips softly at the corner of my mouth.
I nodded.
"I need you to say the words, babe. I want you to want this as much as me," he said, pulling back slightly.
I knew what he wanted. He needed me to confirm that I wouldn't freak out again. He wouldn't force himself on me. Knowing this set me free in a way no words ever could. He wasn't going to hurt me like I wa
s hurt before. He was waiting for me to make the next move.
"Dean, will you please kiss me?" I whispered, my voice no longer shaking. I was ready.
"Yes, I will," Dean answered, pulling me close and capturing my lips with his. The feel of his lips on mine was filled with sweet ecstasy as he gently discovered my mouth. After a moment, he gently probed my lips open and the tips of our tongues met, turning the sweetness into a smoldering hot, spine-tingling inferno. He pulled me even closer so our bodies pressed against each other. His hands kept my face anchored in place as the kiss went on. I sighed against his lips, never wanting them to leave mine. There was no darkness around me, only light that was spreading through me like wildfire. He broke away after a moment and looked down at me, smiling slightly. Maneuvering his legs through the hole in the tire until they touched the ground, he slowly backed the swing up until he was almost standing with me cradled against his chest.
"Ready?" he asked.
Nodding mutely, my eyes never left his as he claimed my lips once again just as he lifted his feet, letting gravity swing us back the other way.
Chapter eighteen
Dean and I were inseparable through the rest of Thanksgiving break. On Friday, we spent the day fighting the Black Friday shoppers as we went from one store to the next, looking for Christmas gifts. It was my first experience really shopping for presents on my own, and I embraced it head-on, buying the twins multiple gifts until Dean finally reigned me in. He laughed when I stuck out my tongue at him before placing the dolls that I was convinced they needed back on the shelf. Shopping for the girls had turned around my distaste for the pink Barbie aisle as I fought the temptation to buy them more.
Picking out perfect gifts for his parents was harder since I wanted to get them something special. Finally, after dragging him into several stores, I found exactly what I was looking for at Things Remembered. With the help of Dean, I filled in the details on the order form for the engraving.
Pleased with my success, I set my sights on helping Dean with his own shopping.
"Are we done?" I asked as we left a bath store with a bag filled with goodies.
"Not yet," Dean said with a smile as he dragged me to the center of the mall where a line of kids waited impatiently.
"What are we doing?" I asked confused, taking in the children around me, decked out in fancy Christmas outfits.
"Seeing Santa, of course," he said, grinning at me.
"Come on," I said, peering at the kids in line, all anxiously waiting for their turn to sit on Santa's lap. I was touched that Dean remembered me mentioning the fact that I had never visited Santa.
"Won't I look silly?" I asked, gnawing slightly on my lip.
"Who cares," Dean said, wrapping his arms around me from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder. "Will it make you happy?"
I nodded my head.
"Then it's settled, we're seeing Santa," he said as the line slowly inched along.
I kept my eyes peeled on the jolly guy in front of us. Obviously, I didn't believe in Santa, but this guy definitely looked the part. I couldn't help the excitement that raced through me as we moved closer and closer. Even the workers, or should I say, Santa's elves, treated us no different than the younger children in line. Finally, after about twenty minutes, it was our turn.
"You go first and talk to him, and then we'll get our picture done," Dean said, nudging me slightly.
I felt silly as I walked toward the mall Santa who looked pretty legit. I mean, the gold stitching matched the gold buttons on his coat, and he wore real boots, not the fake covers with the straps that barely covered the actor's sneakers underneath that you typically saw on a mall Santa.
"And how are you today, young lady?" he said with a twinkle in his eye as he patted his knee for me to perch on.
Not wanting to crush him, I perched on the edge of his knee, keeping the majority of my weight on my legs. "Good. I've never done this before," I answered, feeling dumb.
"I know, but that doesn't mean I haven't been watching to see if you've been bad or good," he said, staying in character.
I knew it was ridiculous, but my heart raced at his words. I couldn't help wondering what the statute of limitations was for being bad.
"Your beard looks real," I said, studying him closely and reminding myself he was just an actor.
"It's a good thing, because it is real," he said, smiling broadly at me. "Now, why don't you tell me what you want for Christmas," he said kindly, as if he already knew what I wanted.
"Can it be anything?" I asked, not sure what the rules were.
"Absolutely. "
The whole idea of asking him for anything was childish, but I couldn't help gnawing on my lip.
"Why don't you whisper your wish," he said gently, understanding me better than he should.
I leaned over and self-consciously whispered into his ear. His eyes widened with compassion, and he patted me on the back.
"I think that can be done, my dear," he answered, beckoning Dean over to join us so they could snap our picture.
"Did you tell him what you want for Christmas, Mads?" Dean asked, having no problem perching on Santa's other knee while a girl dressed like an elf snapped our picture.
"Yep," I said, feeling lighthearted as I smiled for the camera.
The elf snapped our picture and beckoned for the next kid in line to replace my spot.
I held out my hand in front of me before we left. "Thank you," I said as Santa's gloved hand enveloped mine.
"It was my pleasure, Madison," he said with serious eyes. "Your wish is in your heart, you just have to release it," he added, giving my hand a slight squeeze before releasing me.
"How do you think he knew my name?" I asked Dean as he paid for our picture package.
"Santa knows everything," he replied, stowing his wallet in his back pocket.
"Very funny," I said, looking back at the jolly man, who caught my eye once again, giving me a wink.
"Probably because I called you 'Mads. ' He probably took a shot in the dark, even though I'd like to believe my first answer. So what did you wish for?"
"If I tell you, it won't come true," I answered, adjusting the shopping bags in my hand. It was too embarrassing to tell him the secret that only Santa and I shared. All I wanted for Christmas was the one gift that would set me free, and allow me to finally move on—forgiveness.
The rest of the weekend was spent at Dean's house with his family as we decorated their house for Christmas. Dean and his father dragged countless tubs from the attic, all filled with decorations. Trish, Sarah and I sat in the middle of the living room floor, sorting through everything. The sheer mass of it was overwhelming. I couldn't help lingering over each decoration as Sarah and Trish regaled me with stories about each one. One in particular made my entire heart move to my throat. It was a rack that held four ceramic plates with each of the kids' handprints in the center. Each plate had been made when all of them had been the same exact age.