Discern (8 page)

“Thank you so much, sweetie.”

“Who was that on the phone?” I asked curiously. He probably wouldn’t be truthful, but I wanted him to be uncomfortable about having to lie to his own daughter.

“Just an old friend,” he said casually.

“Dad, I’m not stupid.”

“Haley, I’m not lying to you,” he said irked.

Clearly, my father had forgotten I wasn’t a child anymore. “Yes, you are,” I said angrily.

His face was now bright red, a clear indication that he wasn’t going to budge. “Subject change,” he demanded.

“Fine!” I hissed, storming out of the room. I no longer wanted to endure this blatant lying of his.

I heard the squeak of the wheels on his chair. “Haley!” he shouted, rushing out into the hallway.

I turned around. “If you aren’t going to be truthful with me, then I have no desire to continue our conversation,” I snapped, following him back into his office.

His normal color had returned, and his eyes had a look of surrender. “I have friends, but I’m not seeing anyone,” he admitted.

“So you aren’t dating anyone?”

“No, I ‘m not ready for that. I’ve already told you this many, many times.”

“Okay,” I sighed. Now I had surrendered; he was still being untruthful, but continuing was exhausting.

“I love you, and I don’t want you worrying about me.”

“I love you, too, but I’ll always worry about you,” I said, fidgeting with my purse strap.

“Please don’t, you have enough to worry about.”

“I won’t,” I lied.

 
“Any plans for tonight?”

“Nope, other than running to the bookstore to buy a book for my Tuesday night class.”

“Okay, sweetie, just so I’m clear, you don’t need me around the house tonight?”

“When are you ever home?” I rolled my eyes.

“I’m home every morning, but if you need me to be there, all you have to do is ask,” he smiled.

“I’m fine. I like the quiet time,” I assured.

“All right, call me if you need me,” he insisted as he hugged me tightly.

“Bye, Dad,” I said, leaving his office.

Although it was only four o’clock, I wasn’t mentally prepared to start reading the book yet. However, I was too upset to stay in the same building with him. He had no intention of telling the truth, and I had no desire to continue to dig any further.

The smell of the bookstore made my stomach queasy. It smelled like fresh lumber and the aroma of coffee coming from the store’s café. I enjoyed reading books, just not educational ones. Not that the book I was getting was educational. It was a love story, but not a love story that I was interested in at the moment.

My interests lie somewhere in the fiction section with vampires and mortal girls attempting to share their lives with one another, with danger around every corner. If I actually met a vampire, I would try my hardest to run as fast as I could—‘try’ being the key word. It was ridiculous to believe any of that existed, but it made for excellent reading, and I needed any distraction available.

Two teenage girls sat at the center counter. They had on black polo shirts and khaki pants, each with a nametag indicating their employment here. They both were similar height, but one had dyed black hair with purple highlights, while the other had plain, stringy brown hair—neither one looked familiar.

“Hi. What section is An Affair in
Dickson
County
in?” I asked.

The book seemed like a backward choice for Literature class. I was prepared to bore myself with Shakespeare, but never dreamt it would be this book. I had seen the movie with my mother, but I was far too young to understand it. My mother seemed to be touched by it, so there was a possibility I could find something to enjoy about it.

“Up the escalator, to your immediate left.” The girl with purple highlights pointed.

“Thanks,” I smiled.

My hand slid on the long, black railing of the escalator as the first floor faded in to the distance. I took an immediate left at the top. I ran my finger along each book looking for the author’s last name alphabetically. I pulled the thin, white paperback book out from the shelf. I flipped through the pages, relatively surprised of its length—only one hundred and fifty pages.

Clutching the small, lightweight book in my hand, I turned around and smacked right dab into the person standing behind me. My face slammed into a handful of hard books, which took me by surprise—I hadn’t even noticed anyone standing anywhere near me.

 
The sound of crashing books echoed through the bookstore, as I fell to the floor. I refused to look up at the person I hit, out of pure embarrassment.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry,” I apologized, reaching for the pile of spilled books. My fingers ran across the dark cover of a book, I recognized.

“Haley, are you all right?” a familiar voice spoke. I looked up to place the voice with the face. Andrew was extending his hand.

“Oh, jeez,” I muttered—not again. I was caught yet again in another embarrassing situation in front of him. “Sorry,” I sighed.

“Don’t be,” he assured, still extending his hand.

I reluctantly placed my hand in his. “Ouch!” I screeched as our hands met.

It felt like a zap of electricity had just shot through my body. Every light in the bookstore momentarily beamed brighter with our touch. A loud popping noise came from one of the fluorescent bulbs as it shattered, scattering broken glass all over the first floor.

“Did I shock you?” he asked concerned.

His eyes were suddenly a sparkling, golden color, which quickly changed back to green. I stared in shock. The green was different—not the normal green I remembered. They looked like gemstones, almost crystal like. I blinked, thinking I was just seeing things, but when I reopened them—his eyes remained the same sparkling green.

“I guess so, something shocked me,” I said, glancing back up at the ceiling, noticing the lights had softened back to their original glow. Our eyes met again.

“Your eyes,” I breathed, still shocked at their appearance—somehow hoping that I had just imagined this whole incident.

“What’s wrong with them?” he asked cautiously.

“T-they were yellow and then back to green, but they seem brighter and clearer,” I stuttered.

“Oh.”

He must have thought I was completely off my rocker. “It’s probably just my imagination,” I mumbled.

“Maybe,” he agreed.

His eyes were so beautiful against his smooth, now ever-so-slightly glowing skin—it was hard not to stare. I instantly wanted to reach out and caress his face. I stopped before I did something irrational, appearing even more bizarre.

He now looked more like a hero from a comic book. Feeling foolish for my delusional thoughts, I closed my eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I’m totally fine.” I opened my eyes, smiling nervously.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing toward the books in my hand.

“Of course,” I smiled, handing him his three books that I had scooped up off the floor.

He reclaimed the books and smiled back. “I’m sorry if my insistence on you staying last night caused any unnecessary explaining to Mr. Scott.”

He casually rested against the large shelf beside him. His muscles flexed underneath his tight navy blue shirt. My heart fluttered. I had almost forgotten what he had just said.

“Not really. Ryan’s just overprotective and was a little worried that I might…” I stopped, afraid that I may give him the wrong impression.

“That you might, what?” he pressed.

I nervously bit my lower lip. “That I might like you,” I blushed.

“Oh, I see,” he grinned. “Is he worried that he might not be next in line for your heart?”

“He isn’t.”

“Well, the next man will truly be a lucky one,” he winked.

Glancing up at his eyes again, I briefly got lost in his hypnotic gaze. I rapidly blinked. A few girls, around my age, giggled as they walked by us. I shook my head. “You must enjoy all the female attention.”

“I told you before, I don’t really notice it. I try not to mingle with the town women.”

Sadness overcame me—my chance with him had passed. “The girls around here can be dangerous,” I laughed, trying to gauge his reaction.

“I don’t believe that,” he smiled. “I don’t believe you’re anywhere close to being dangerous.”

“Not today at least,” I grinned.

“I knew today was going to be a good day,” he winked.

I noticed the book that rested up against his chest. “Interested in reincarnation?” I asked curiously.

My knee loudly popped as I shifted my hips. My eyes shot over to the empty couch behind him. He gestured toward it without saying a word. I smiled knowing my face had given away my thoughts. We both carefully took a seat beside one another. My heart pounded nervously.

“Yes, how did you know?” he asked, continuing the conversation.

“The book in your hand,” I pointed.

“Oh, yeah, but how did you know it was about reincarnation?” he asked, his brow lifted.

“I read it before,” I said, anxiously wondering if I had made a mistake mentioning it.

An odd expression crossed his face. “Is it any good?”

“It makes for good reading. It gives you hope, if that’s what you’re looking for,” I sighed. It had given me a small sliver of hope—hope that I would see my mother again.

“It would be nice if our loved ones, that have passed, were here once again.”

“Yes, that would be nice,” I agreed.

“Losing someone is never easy. Trying to cope is the hardest part.” A hint of sadness entered his voice.

Those words were never truer. Coping had never been one of my strong suits. I left home, because of my inability to cope. Everyone around me avoided the subject. My mother was dead—she wasn’t coming back. Andrew seemed to have similar coping issues. A brief moment of silence passed.

I eventually drummed up the courage to speak of her. “My mother passed away when I was seventeen. I drove myself insane trying to figure out why she’d been taken from me. I finally gave up on why and began wondering if there might be life after death. I read every book about reincarnation, searching for an answer, hoping to see her again.” I closed my eyes trying to refrain from crying.

His hand instantly reached for mine igniting more sparks between us. This time our touch was exhilarating not shocking. The sparkle of his eyes intensified as we touched.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mother’s passing. That must have been very difficult for you, especially at such a young age.”

“I haven’t really spoken about it in so long. Everyone deliberately avoids the issue with me. I guess that’s why I wasn’t exactly thrilled about returning home.” It was liberating to finally speak about my mother.

“If they didn’t care about your feelings, they wouldn’t be so mindful.”

“They just feel sorry for me.”

“Why would they feel sorry for you?”

“I lost my mother, and now I have returned with yet another loss.” My voice lowered.

“They do feel sorrow for you, but they wouldn’t be so kind as to avoid the subject if their intentions were anything but well meaning.” He spoke as if he were an expert on human behavior.

“There are a few who would love to throw all the tragedies in my face, so I usually try to keep my distance,” I said, keeping my eyes down. Looking in to his emerald eyes made it difficult to concentrate.

“Keeping your distance is wise, but there’ll always be those who seek only to hurt you. Those types are everywhere.”

He was right. Keeping up such a heavy guard every single moment of the day was exhausting. “It seems like I just keep giving them more ammunition every time I’m happy and believe things have turned around.” I was beginning to feel happiness would evade me forever.

“What did he do to you?” he asked cautiously.

“Who?”

“The man you are mourning?”

My relationship woes had been apparent. To speak of both incidents in one evening would have been unheard of, but Andrew’s presence seemed to make it tolerable. “He cheated,” I sighed.

“Infidelity is hurtful, but nothing to put yourself in a depression for. The other party has issues, not you,” he assured.

“I realize that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Not when you planned your whole existence around this person. I know that wasn’t smart or healthy, but I had to direct my attention to something else besides my mother’s death.”

His expression changed. “Did you really love him or was he merely a distraction?”

His question stung. I was speechless. On one hand, I was angry that he spoke about my relationship so harshly, but on the other hand, I felt relieved. Had I really loved him? “I guess both.”

“Real love can only happen when your heart is available. So, it couldn’t possibly be both.”

I felt exposed. My whole relationship had been a cover for my pain, but no one else, including me, had ever noticed it that way. “A distraction,” I murmured.