Embrace (2 page)

“It was more my mom.” Isaac leaned toward me as if he was about to tell me a family secret. “She believes that every house takes on the personality of its owner. When Mom found out the previous owner was…different, she had my dad find out everything he could about the place before she’d agree to move there.”

“And?” I inched closer to him, suddenly curious about the history of that house.

Isaac looked to his left then his right before he whispered, “About thirty years ago, an entire family was murdered there: the dad, the mom, two kids, even Spot the dog.”

I gasped. Before I could say something stupid, he nudged my shoulder with his.

“I’m only kidding about the murders. He did find out that the house was built in the late 1800s. It’s been passed down from one generation to the next. There has been a Lawson living there for over a hundred years. Mrs. Lawson was the last in her family, though. She didn’t have anyone to leave it to, and she needed the money for her new place. She had to sell.”

“Our house is pretty old too.” Although, I didn’t know when it was built or how many families had lived there before my parents had bought it. I doubted they knew, and if the house did have a personality, I didn’t know if it would be a mix of all the families that had lived there or just my family’s.

“Have you always lived in Gloucester?” Isaac asked.

“Yeah.” I played with my leather bracelets as I talked. “My parents moved here when Mom was pregnant with me. How about you? How many places have you lived?”

“Three, but the first two were within a few miles of each other.” Isaac went on to talk about the last house he’d lived in. I nodded and added a few comments, but mostly I listened. It gave me time to memorize the curve of his jaw and the shape of his nose. His voice had a silken undertone, and his words, which seemed to be chosen carefully, flowed from his lips to my ears like a band’s music to its dancers, captivating me.

After a while, Josh and Kaylee joined Isaac’s and my conversation. It was just before eleven when the breeze picked up. It cut across the water, carrying the spray to us like unmerciful shards of glass. I turned slightly so the mist wouldn’t hit my face and wrapped my arms around myself trying to keep warm. Isaac took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders, touching my neck in the process and sending a jolt—like static electricity—through me.

I winced from the unexpected shock of it. “Did you feel that?”

“Yeah.” The word dragged on. He stared at me with wide eyes, probably thinking that getting shocked on the beach was just as weird as I thought it was. “Are you—”

“Fine.” I said, interrupting him. “I’m fine. It just surprised me, that’s all.” I slipped my arms though the sleeves of his jacket. “Thanks.”

Kaylee checked her cell phone. “We better go before my dad sends out a search party.”

Josh and Isaac stood when we did. Josh said, “We’ll walk you to your car.”

Isaac left a couple of feet between us as we walked toward the trees. I wanted to close the gap to test how he’d react. I moved closer to him as I stepped around a natural pothole, and like we were two negative magnets forced in opposite directions, he swayed away from me, giving me the impression that I liked him more than he liked me.

Before I could register the disappointment of that, Kaylee’s shriek stopped me in my tracks. I turned to look at her. She buried her face in Josh’s chest. He had an arm around her back as he used the toe of his gym shoe to nudge a large brown lump on the ground in front of them.

“What is it?” Curiosity got the better of me. I stepped closer, and immediately regretted that I had. I could see red glistening off brown fur and what looked like intestines pooling in a puddle of blood. I covered my mouth with my hand as my dinner threatened to come back up.

Isaac crouched down for a closer look. “It was a rabbit. Hind feet are missing.”

“Seriously?” Josh craned his neck, trying to get a better view without letting go of Kaylee.

I wished we’d start walking already.

“What’s so interesting?” Paige Osborne pushed by me and looked over Isaac’s shoulder. Her recently dyed dark red hair brushed the side of his face. “Oh! That’s—” she tilted her head to the side “—beyond disgusting.”

Her friend Emma stopped next to me, arms folded over her chest. “Paige, come on. I want to find Mark before he leaves.”

Paige and Isaac stood. Their arms touched for a brief moment before they took a step away from each other.

“Can we go?” Emma asked impatiently. She had this whole chic-in-jeans-and-a-T-shirt thing going on that sort of fit her blond and black pixie haircut. Not that I would have told her that. Emma and Paige barely acknowledged Kaylee’s or my existence those days.

Paige ignored Emma. She looked at Isaac as if she were a hawk ready to pounce on a mouse. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Isaac shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

Paige dug around in her purse. A moment later, she pulled out a black eyeliner pencil. She grabbed Isaac’s arm, turning his palm upward. “Call me if you want to hang out.”

I couldn’t believe she was giving Isaac her phone number. I mean, I knew I’d just met him, but she had no way of knowing that. As far as she was concerned, we were on a double date with Josh and Kaylee.

Paige bounced past me before I could say anything. Emma followed her. I watched them get swallowed by the darkness.

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” Isaac whispered into my ear.

He was right behind me. His breath moved a few strands of my hair and tickled my neck.

“I’m not jealous.” The words came out with a sharp bite I hadn’t intended to use, and I was sure I hadn’t fooled him. I wanted to spit in his hand and smear Paige’s number so that he couldn’t read it.

Isaac smirked. He rested a hand on the small of my back. “Let’s get out of here.”

Josh and Kaylee were a few steps ahead of us. We walked in silence until we could see Kaylee’s car.

Kaylee was the first to say something. “Josh and I are going to the movies tomorrow. You guys want to come?”

“Sure,” I said at the same time Isaac said, “I can’t.”

I bit down on my bottom lip as my heart came to a sudden stop. He didn’t like me. He was going to call Paige. My eyes met Kaylee’s. She looked almost as dejected as I felt.

“I promised my parents I’d help them paint the house,” Isaac added, watching me closely. “Maybe next time?”

Kaylee winked at me. I hoped Isaac hadn’t noticed.

“Unless you like painting?” He looked at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Joking. Maybe hopeful. I wanted it to be the latter.

“I can’t paint for anything,” Kaylee quickly replied. “But Madison’s pretty good at it.”

She jammed her elbow into Josh’s ribcage when he started to laugh. If there was one thing I’d learned from the few times I had helped my dad paint houses for his handyman business, it was that I hadn’t inherited his steady hand. I had to tell myself to keep walking or risk Isaac seeing my feeble attempt to rearrange my expression to be anything but shock over Kaylee’s outright lie. She nudged me with her arm and looked meaningfully at Isaac.

We reached the car. I was all too aware of Isaac’s gaze on me, and I wanted to see him again. I quickly weighed my options: a day of painting with Isaac, intruding on Kaylee and Josh’s day together, or sitting home with Dad and my little brother.

Painting was sounding better and better. When you think about it, slapping paint on a flat surface should be easy. I hoped Isaac’s expression was sincere as I tucked one side of my hair behind my ear.

“I wouldn’t mind helping,” I said. Isaac’s smile let me know he was glad I volunteered.

“Great,” he replied. “I’ll have Josh tell me how to get to your house. Ten o’clock okay?”

“Sure.” I would have woken up at dawn if he wanted me to.

I said bye to the guys and got into the MINI Cooper. I tried to be completely casual as the guys watched Kaylee turn the car around and drive off.

Kaylee’s lips curled upward into a knowing smile. “I think Isaac likes you,” she teased in a singsong voice. “And I think you like him.”

I couldn’t help but grin. A big silly grin from ear to ear. Kaylee knew me well enough to know that was a yes
.

Chapter 2

We All Fall Down

I P
RACTICALLY
D
ANCED
I
NTO
the kitchen the next morning, my bare feet tapping lightly on the linoleum tile. I was still in my baby blue pajama shorts and tank top. My six-year-old brother sat at the table making
zoom
noises as he raced a red Hot Wheel Ferrari around his glass of milk. My dad had on his signature gray sweats and white T-shirt that he wore every Sunday. He leaned against the counter, his caramel-color hair sticking up in all directions, and a cup of coffee held close to his heart as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Good morning,” I chirped.

The bell on the toaster rang, and the toast sprang up. I grabbed a plate from the cabinet and looked at Chase. “You want jelly?”

“Grape,” he replied without looking away from his toy car.

I smothered each slice of toast with butter and jelly and set the plate in front of Chase before asking Dad if he’d like a couple of slices.

“Please.” He took a seat across from Chase and turned on the small twelve-inch television with the remote.

I put two more slices of bread in the toaster and grabbed a glass from the cabinet. “Did you have fun at the park yesterday?” I asked, knowing very well my brother always had fun when he went there.

“Yep!” Chase replied through a mouth full of toast. “You should have come with us. I found a dead crow with its bill and feet yanked off.”

“That’s gross!” The image of a mangled crow flashed in my mind, followed closely by the memory of the rabbit from the night before. My stomach lurched in disgust.

“It was awesome!” Chase assured me.

“That poor bird.” I looked at Dad. “You didn’t let him touch it?”

“Sure, and we brought it home so we can boil it up for dinner.” Dad rolled his eyes. “Of course I didn’t let him touch it.”

Okay, I probably should have given him more credit and not accused him of letting Chase play with a thing like that. I poured myself a glass of orange juice and started buttering the toast.

“How was your night?” Dad asked, changing the subject.

“It was okay.” I could have done without seeing Paige, but meeting Isaac certainly made up for that. “It was fun,” I admitted out loud.

I handed Dad his toast and took a seat next to Chase.

“Thanks,” Dad replied.

“No problem.”

My heart did a tap dance in my chest just thinking about Isaac. I could picture him perfectly. His easy smile. The way he looked at me. Paige holding his hand as she scribbled her number across his palm. I should have admitted I was jealous. Maybe then Isaac would have spit in his hand and wiped it clean on his jeans.

The meteorologist on television promised a beautiful day. Sunny, mid-sixties. This made me realize I still had Isaac’s jacket. I made a mental note to grab it before I left the house. To paint. I must have been out of my mind when I had volunteered to help.

I looked up and interrupted the conversation I hadn’t been aware was taking place. “Did you know someone moved into the house across the street from Josh Corey’s family?”

“Mrs. Lawson’s old place?” Dad asked.

I nodded. “The new owners have a son.”

“Oh?” Dad puckered his lips as if he’d just sucked on a lemon. “And from that smile I’m guessing you like him,” he added before taking a large bite out of his toast.

“He’s nice. I’m helping him paint today.” I checked the clock on the microwave. I still had time before Isaac would be here to pick me up.

Dad choked on the food in his mouth, and Chase stopped drawing squiggly lines in his jelly.

“What?” I asked. You would have thought I’d just told them I was going to dance at a strip club. Talk about overreacting.

My dad gulped his coffee to push down the toast stuck in his throat. “You’re painting?”

“With paint?” Chase added. “Daddy, quick, where’s my hat?”

“We’re painting at his house,” I said and gently shoved Chase. “Just because I spilled a little paint on you
one time
doesn’t mean I can’t paint.”

“It was a can of paint, and it took a week to get it out of my hair!”

I tickled his waist, causing him to squeal with laughter. “Chase Michael Riley, it was half a can,” I said, “and it only took one day.” And five baths. In Chase’s mind that was a week’s worth of baths. “Anyway, he promised his parents he’d help them paint, and he asked if I’d like to lend a hand.”

Over Chase’s head, I saw a picture of Mrs. Lawson in the right-hand corner of the television. I grabbed the remote from the table and turned up the volume.

“Here’s Maria Sanchez with more,” Peter Goodie, morning anchorman, said.

“Thank you, Peter.” Maria Sanchez stood in front of a sprawling red brick building where Mrs. Lawson lived, the entrance to the assisted living facility some twenty yards behind her. “Nurses at Sunshine Village said that Annabelle Lawson’s health had been deteriorating at an alarming rate since her arrival just one month ago. Doctors are still unsure what the ninety-three-year-old woman, who was reported in perfect health by her family physician back in March of this year, contracted. She was found dead on top of the covers in her one-bedroom apartment.”

“Are any of the other residents at risk?” anchorman Peter Goodie asked.

“The doctors here don’t believe that Mrs. Lawson was contagious, but they are keeping a close eye on those who had contact with her.”

“Thank you, Maria.” Maria nodded, and the view switched back to the newsroom. “The date and time of the funeral services has yet to be announced.”

I lowered the volume. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Dad got up to refill his coffee cup. “A lot of people knew her. She’ll be missed.”

I nodded and set the remote in front of him, dismissing the sad news for the time being to tend to more immediate matters—like the shower I desperately needed after a night at the beach—and headed upstairs.

It was ridiculous how long it took me to figure out what to wear over to Isaac’s. It was the second time I’d be seeing him, and his parents were likely to be there. I didn’t want to look like I didn’t care what I wore. My sweats and oversized T-shirt were out. And I was too paint-challenged to wear something I would ever want to wear again. I finally settled for a pair of semi-old jeans and a purple T-shirt.

Isaac pulled up in front of my house at precisely ten o’clock. He drove a dark green Jeep Rubicon that looked like it could roll over Kaylee’s MINI Cooper. He got out and opened the passenger door for me.

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” he said as I climbed in.

“No chance.” I smiled to show I meant it. “I like painting.”

Chase, who had found his hat and come to the screen door to get a look at my new friend, burst out laughing. As soon as Isaac walked around to the driver’s side, I shot Chase my
Shut up or I’ll kill you
glance and drew an imaginary line in front of my neck for emphasis.

I was excited to see Isaac again. There was something different about him that made him a mystery waiting to be unraveled. He chose his words carefully, as if he had a secret he didn’t want to accidentally let slip. It thrilled me to think of the possibilities. Maybe his family were undercover agents for the government or secretly wealthy and Isaac was looking for someone to travel the world with. My mind came up with all sorts of exciting scenarios. At least it did until I thought of a few negative ones. What if he sold drugs? I didn’t think I could date someone who did that, no matter how cute or nice he was. Worse, what if he’d been the stud at his old school? The guy who’d dated every pretty girl only to dump them once he’d gotten what he wanted. Maybe that was why he watched what he said. Maybe he didn’t want to accidentally mention someone else. What if I was the newest addition to his harem?

I knew that thought should have upset me, but instead it made me giddy because, if it was true, I was the one he’d chosen to spend the day with.

I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking, so I tucked them under his jacket. I smiled at Isaac when he got in and did my best not to stare at him. It was hard. The morning light highlighted a thin crescent-shaped scar on his right cheek that left the healed skin pearly white. He had a similar scar on his chin. I shifted in my seat so that I’d be able to see him better.

“How’d you get the scars?” I touched my cheek and chin to indicate where on his face I meant. I’d never seen scars heal quite like his.

Isaac gave me a sideways glance that sent my heart into a frenzy of quick beats. I had to get a hold of myself. He was just a guy, a damn cute one, but a guy all the same.

After a moment, he said, “Difference of opinion between me and another guy.”

“Ohh.” I let the word drag out while I thought about asking for more details. There was something exciting about a guy who had scars. Something almost dangerous. Maybe that was why my heart raced the way it did. Maybe it was warning me to be careful. I didn’t voice any of this out loud. Instead, I held up the olive green jacket I was carrying. “I brought your jacket back.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what are we painting?” I asked as he weaved his way through the streets of Gloucester. Maybe I’d get lucky and it would be the garage.

“My mom wants the dining room painted. She hates the teal paint in there now.”

Okay, it wasn’t the garage or even just the trim outside, where it wouldn’t matter as much if I dripped paint on the ground. But I would at least still be painting on a flat surface. “Sounds like a plan.”

Isaac navigated the side streets as if he’d been doing it all his life. The warm autumn air brushed my cheeks and sent my ponytail flying behind me. He glanced over at me and smiled, the left side of his lips higher than the right. I reminded myself to breathe.

“Hungry?” he asked. “I could stop and pick us up something.”

My stomach was a tangled mess of emotions: excited to be seeing Isaac again, nervous that we might not have anything in common and would end up painting in silence, and scared that he would turn out to be a dream or, worse, a frog like in the fairy tales. I didn’t think I could eat a thing.

“I ate at home,” I lied. Isaac looked a little disappointed, so I added, “I wouldn’t mind a latte.”

We swung by a coffee shop near Isaac’s house, and armed with four cups of specialty drinks and a box of muffins, we pulled into his tree-lined driveway and drove under a leafy umbrella of burnt orange and red. The house, a mocha two-story with brown shutters and cream trim, had every window open.

I followed Isaac up the walk and through the front door. Inside, the smell of fresh paint and pine cleaner fought to overpower each other. The living room and dining room were on either side of the foyer. Both rooms had dark hardwood floors. The dining room table, chairs, and china cabinet sat in the middle of the living room along with several unpacked boxes. A gallon of paint and a ladder were propped against the wall. Straight ahead was the staircase.

“Let’s give my parents their coffee, and then we’ll get to work.”

Isaac led the way upstairs, where we found his mom standing on a ladder, edging the master bedroom in a glossy camel color. She wore paint-splattered overalls and a scarf covering her short auburn hair. The furniture had been pushed to the center of the room. His father had his back to us as he rolled paint onto the wall.

“We brought caffeine,” Isaac said. “And breakfast.”

I stood a little behind Isaac and smoothed my hair with my fingers, hoping to make a good first impression.

His father put down the roller and came over to shake my hand. “You must be Madison. It’s very nice of you to come over to help, but there’s been a change of plans.”

I held out my hand, ready for it to disappear in his father’s, but when our palms brushed, I got shocked by static electricity.

“Ow!” I yanked my hand back, my fingers curled into a fist.

He exchanged a quick glance with Isaac. “Sorry, I’m always shuffling my feet. Shock Lisa all the time.”

“It’s true,” his mom confirmed, looking at Isaac. I turned my attention back to him, but he was busy placing two coffees and a couple of muffins on the floor near an empty water bottle.

“It’s okay,” I reassured them. “What’s the change of plans?”

His mom waved her paintbrush in the air absentmindedly and said, “I’m not happy with the paint we bought for the dining room. So I was hoping you two wouldn’t mind doing some unpacking instead.”

“Sure.” I shrugged, secretly thanking his mom for hating the color. It was better for everyone that I wasn’t trusted with a gallon of paint in a room that had real hardwood floors.

Isaac leaned closer to me and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, “This is her way of getting me to set up my room.”

“Can you blame me?” She laughed. “If I didn’t, you’d just live out of the boxes.”

“Really, I don’t mind,” I said before Isaac could argue.

Isaac gave me a quick tour of the upstairs, which included two bedrooms stuffed with boxes and miscellaneous furniture and a bathroom with a skylight.