Finding Never (19 page)

“
Well,”
I say as I glance over at Ty who's sitting cross legged on the sofa,
untangling yet another strand of old, white lights. “I didn't
have the time for it.” Ty senses that I'm talking about him
and looks up, meeting my eyes with a flash of sin that tells me I'm
in trouble later. I make myself a note to stop by the store today
and get more condoms. We've gone through a whole box and then some.
Maybe it's because we're both still sex addicts, will always be sex
addicts. Or maybe it's just because he's so fucking hot. Hard to
say.

I
step back and examine the tree with a sick feeling in my gut. I'm
standing in the living room, yes, the living room, after all this
time. The memories of my father's death aren't gone, not by a long
shot, but since Ty and I confronted Luis, I'm not so afraid of them
anymore. I can look at them without breaking down, without running
into the arms of a stranger. After all, if I need to run into
anybody's arms, I can run into Ty's. And now finally, I can truly,
honestly say that I'm not mad at my dad, not anymore. He didn't
choose to die. He didn't choose to leave me with that woman who even
now is looking into the living room with a sour expression on her
face and sea turtle earrings hanging from her stretched out earlobes.
And as far as not being around when he was alive, I can't blame him.
My mother makes even the best of occasions uncomfortable.

“
That's
organically grown?” she asks which is such a stupid fucking
question that nobody answers her. Nobody except Noah Scott. He
steps into the living room in his coat and gloves and sets the last
box of decorations down on the floor. They've been kept in the barn
for years and are not in the best of shape, but we've decided to go
through them all, make a proper Christmas for the little ones. It
makes all the sense in the world to me. I have to give something
back to them. These past few weeks have been … interesting.
I've gotten to know the ones I left and the ones I never knew, but it
hasn't been easy, and we're just getting started. Plus, Zella gets
back today and who the hell knows how that might go.

“
Of
course, Ms. Regali,” Noah says with a smile, and I notice that
my mother gives him a lingering look that makes my stomach sick. She
might think shes some free spirited, hippie who's changing the world
with her cage free eggs and the vegetarian meatloaves she makes for
her new boyfriend, but she's not fooling anyone. She is a selfish
caricature of a person, and I have taken to simply ignoring her.

“
Yeah,
Mom,” I say and I try to make my smile look real pretty when I
continue. Maybe she won't know I'm being sarcastic. “Because
in the Midwest, we always make sure to import organic Christmas
trees. It's a big issue 'round here.” My mother stares at me
but says nothing. It's Beth who takes the reigns. She's my soul
momma.

“
Never,
grab me that next strand if you would.” I roll my eyes as my
mom leaves for yet another date and lean down to grab the lights.
Noah and I end up brushing hands as we both go for it and get caught
staring at one another. It's so hard to look at him everyday and
know he can't be mine. He just can't be. If I could have him
and
Ty … well, I don't know what I'd do, but I can't, and
there is no way in hell that I can lose McCabe. It just isn't
happening. I could list you reasons, but then you'd never escape.
My love for him is endless. And when we're together, just me and
him, I can't even think about Noah Scott, but then, I can't find
anything wrong with Noah either, anything to discredit him. I was in
love with him, never stopped being in love with him, but maybe I need
to take a step back and look at this from a different point of view.
Ty McCabe is Never Ross' soul mate; Never Regali belonged to Noah
Scott. She is long dead, so I think it's time I said something to
Noah before he gets hurt, really hurt. I can't do that to him again.
He's been waiting around for me all this time. At the very least, I
owe him a hug and an apology. We could be good friends, I think, if
he lets us be. He may not. Right now though is not the time. I
don't know when or if there'll be a perfect moment, but I can't say
anything with my sisters and Ty around. Things wouldn't be so
awkward if they didn't keep inviting him over. He even stops by on
his own half the time, catches up with us when we're on walks, sits
next to us while we read. I know he loves me, but I just can't love
him back, not more than I love Ty.

“
I
hope Zella appreciates all this work,” I say instead as I flop
down next to Ty. My stomach is roiling and making me nauseous. I
blame India's cooking. Last night, she wanted to make me something
special and tried to whip up some homemade mac 'n' cheese. It tasted
like dog shit, but I ate it anyway. For her. Always for her. I
think, also, that I'm feeling ill because of Zella's homecoming. She
was not so supportive when I left, and she seems the least shook up
that I was even gone. Maybe she doesn't even care? I swallow hard
and spin Ty's ring around my finger. Since he gave it to me, I
haven't taken it off, not even once.

“
I
hope so,” Ty says as he stands up and passes Beth the strand he
was working on. “Because she's damn lucky to have a family
like yours. The closest thing I ever had to a brother was my cousin,
and he died a long time ago.” I pause; Noah pauses; Beth
pauses. Even Lettie who's coming in to hand me a cup of sweet tea
pauses. They may not know exactly how rare it is to hear Ty talk
about his past, but they can sense it. This is big. Ty is revealing
a piece of himself to us. I don't know why he's chosen this moment,
but the words just seem to slip past his sexy lips and sit heavy with
us in our room of lights and wreaths and plastic, chubby, fat fucking
Santa Claus's. “My mother ran him over with her SUV,” Ty
says and we all just sort of sit there in stunned silence.

“
Um,
here,” Lettie says, realizing even at thirteen that maybe she
better go, that maybe this isn't a conversation for her to join in
on. Even Beth seems uncomfortable. Noah, though, oh, I don't know
about him. He just seems sad for Ty. He's sort of selfless like
that.

“
I'm
so sorry,” he tells Ty, and it's weird to see Ty look up at him
with a sad smile. Ty and Noah might not be friends, but in the last
two weeks, they've gotten used to one another. I hope that one day,
we could all be dead honest with each other and just be friends. I
would like that. A lot. The first boy I loved and the last boy I
will ever love.

“
He
was six,” Ty says randomly and then, “Anybody up for a
cigarette?” He stands up quickly and moves out the front door.
I follow close behind him and we sit together on the porch swing.

“
Want
to talk about it?” I say, wondering how the hell anybody could
run over a kid with an SUV. His mother must've been either very self
absorbed or very drunk. Despite the photos of cars Ty has in his
apartment and the beautiful rings, I decide then and there that I'm
probably going to hate his mother as much as I hate mine.

“
Nope,”
he says as he passes me a cig and we smoke in silence. Snow is
starting to fall ever so gently from the sky, drifting down to the
ground in powdery flakes that melt on contact, leaving the dirt
driveway a mess of mud and slush. Neither of us is wearing shoes,
and it's awfully cold outside, so Ty and I snuggle up and watch
tendrils of smoke curl in the chilly air. “This is too fucking
perfect to ruin.” I sigh and close my eyes, letting Ty hold me
in an armful of butterflies. I've counted them all – there are
thirty in total – and I'm working on memorizing each species,
each color, each size. They're like freckles or something, just this
other, different, unique bit of Ty McCabe that I have to know.

“
When?”
I ask him. “When are you gonna tell me?”

“
Soon,”
Ty promises, and I believe him because he hasn't given me reason to
think otherwise. “When I'm ready, baby, you can cut me open
and dig through what's left.” I almost tell him there's no
need, that all I really need from him is his heart and that, I'm
pretty sure, I already have.

27

So
India goes to the store to pick up some stuff for this horribly
ostentatious dinner that Beth is going to cook in honor of our family
being whole once again while I sit in nervous anticipation at the
bottom of the staircase, an unlit cigarette hanging out of my mouth,
and a lump in my stomach. Things are going so well that I can't help
but worry that Zella will change everything.

“
She's
really excited to see you, you know,” Noah tells me as he
finally finds a moment of peace away from my sisters and takes off
his winter coat, hanging it on a hook in the hallway. Beth has the
heater up way too high, even for this weather, and Noah and I both
have little beads of sweat on our foreheads. He sits down next to me
and touches his fingers to the back of my hand. I should probably
pull away, but I don't because I'm a coward. I never was before, but
with Noah, I suddenly feel that way. It's not a good place to be.

“
How
do you know?” I ask him and then hold up a finger to stop him
from answering. “No, wait. Let me guess. You guys are pen
pals or something equally as disturbing.” Noah blinks his big
blue eyes at me for a moment and finally laughs like he's just got
the joke.

“
Actually,
sort of,” he says as he adjusts his sky blue T-shirt. It's got
these words in Latin scribbled across it that I can barely read.
Amicitiae
nostrae memoriam spero sempiternam fore
I
think I know what it means, but I don't mention it because I'm afraid
I might be wrong.
I
hope that the memory of our friendship will be everlasting.
I
pray to some blind eyed, shadow faced deity that Noah really believes
that. I'd love to have him as a friend. “We e-mail
sometimes.” He shrugs like it's not that big of a deal
although I know it is. I can still read him. Noah Scott is like an
open book. He isn't like Ty at all; Noah lets his emotions play
across his face like a movie.

“
You
know,” I say as I put my hand over the top of his and squeeze
it, more friendly than anything else. “I never did thank you.”
He looks me and then runs his other hand through his blonde hair.

“
For
what?”

“
For
waiting around for me,” I tell him and before he can protest, I
throw him a piece of his own poetry, give him something to think
about. Or at least to dissuade him from trying to protest. We both
know the truth, so there's no point in pretending otherwise.
Besides, Ty is no poet. Noah is still my favorite manipulator of the
English language. I pull my cigarette from my lips and hold it
between my fingers. “
Buried
by blood
,”
I began and Noah groans, pulling his hand away and putting it over
his face. Normally he doesn't mind his stuff being thrown around,
not even when it's bad, but this, this is the last poem in the
Butterfly Series, and I think he's actually embarrassed to hear it
aloud. It is sort of personal. “
Gasping;
As if
air could be bought with wishes and prayers.
”
I smile as Noah sighs and surprisingly, picks up the passage.

“
I
am drowning; Here it is, my final plea
.” I chuckle and try
to keep my voice steady as I continue. This poem, when I first read
it, sent me spiraling into depression for days. Now, though, it
doesn't seem so bad anymore. It gives Noah depth. Maybe, one day,
he'll fall in love with another girl and she'll see that just as Ty
sees my bad memories and my pain and my fear and loves that, too.

“
Just
remember, I won't repeat, so pay attention; Write it down
.”

“
I
am bleeding and in my own blood, I am drowning.
”

“
I
didn't know how hard it would hit me when my lungs breathed it in.
”

“
I
didn't know how sad I would feel as I watched my own vision,
dimming.
”

“
I
didn't realize how much I would miss you in that last moment and how
much I would cry
.”
We look at each other just as Ty appears at the top of the stairs.
I hope he's not intimidated, but no, not Ty McCabe. Not by a long
shot.

“
I
cried and the tears mixed with the blood and I couldn't see them
because red filled my vision and then I was blind and then I cried no
more and then the bleeding stopped;
It
stopped when my heart stopped; My heart; The one that was broken by
you, could only have been broken by you, and I was happy because I
could never bleed again.
”

Noah
and I both spin around as Ty recites the final stanza of the poem
without a hitch, without a single misplaced word. He must've found
it in my suitcase and read it. That would be oh so typical Ty. I
hope he doesn't mind that I brought them here with me. It just
seemed appropriate.