Kismet (11 page)

Ever since the trip to the graves I’ve been seeing a lot more of Parker. Despite our less than favorable exchange at the cemetery, he’s been making a habit of coming to the house everyday after he finishes helping out with the chores around the farm. Day after day, without so much as a word, he walks in and plops down next to me on the couch. Mom brings him some lemonade and he gets comfortable, usually thumbing through the magazines that Mom keeps putting out, despite the fact that I never crack them open. Since I’m not sure what he’s doing, or why he’s doing it, his presence makes me uneasy.

Today I’ve decided to try deterring him from his usual gig by lying down on the couch instead of just sitting. He comes in, just like he has been for the past week—like he owns the place. Typical Parker. He takes his hat off, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face and I can’t help but notice his tight stomach. I roll my eyes and look away. I’m not stupid. I know what he’s doing and I’m not biting.

He mutters something inaudible, which is odd since he’s usually pretty silent. I look at him, confused.

“I said, it’s hot out there today.”

He places his cap on his head, backwards. He looks me over, obviously taking in the fact that I’m sprawled over the couch and showing no signs of moving. I try not to smile, but despite my efforts I feel the corners of my mouth pull up. He shrugs and walks straight toward the end of the couch where he stills glaring at my feet. I hold firm, enjoying messing with his newfound routine.

He stands there for a few tense moments. I’m hoping that he’ll give up and leave. But I couldn’t get that lucky. Eventually, he has enough and he grabs my legs, lifting them up and sliding himself underneath my feet. He lets my feet drop into his lap.

I know I should scramble. Sit up, distance myself from him. But instead, I lie there with my feet innocently resting in his lap.

I pretend to be put out with his daily visits, but we both know that isn’t the case. Truth is, I look forward to quitting time, knowing that he’ll pop in and just keep me company. It’s like he refuses to let me be alone, forcing me to hang on to something, instead of withdrawing further into the grief.

As if on cue, Mom walks into the living room and smiles. “Lemonade, Parker?” she asks, tidying up the coffee table.

“Please,” he answers, just like always.

I watch Mom leave and listen to her rustling in the kitchen down the hallway, all while I stare at the ceiling counting tiles.

One… two…

Parker’s movement catches my eyes. He takes his hat off again and rubs his head, face, and neck with his bandana before stuffing it back in his pocket and placing his hat back on his head. His eyes meet mine, and I know I’m busted. Parker grins, knowing full well that I’d been checking him out.

The rhythm of my heart is such that it feels like it’s going to implode. I’m not sure what to make of what I’m feeling, but I do know that admiring him is wrong. It isn’t appropriate, and I don’t want to be
that
girl—the lonely widow, jumping into the arms of another man just to numb her pain. It’s pathetic, and I won’t be her.

I break eye contact, cursing him all the while. Mom comes back in and sets our glasses on the table without a word, just like every other day.

Parker leans forward to grab his glass from the tabletop, takes a big gulp and sets it back down. Trying to hide it, but not succeeding, I notice his hand grab something on its return trip. He leans back and rests his hand on my ankle. I flinch at the contact.

“It’s just me, Katie,” he whispers, his hand cupping my ankle. With his free hand he shows me a pen. That must be what he was trying to hide. “Remember when we used to do this?”

I did remember. How could someone forget something like that? When we were younger, Tommy, Parker, and I would spend hours doodling notes to each other all over our bodies. I was almost seven, a year after my diagnosis, and it had driven Mom nuts, but she never scolded us because it had been my first step in recovery.

The first time Parker grabbed my wrist I’d been beyond anxious and had tried to pull away from him, but Tommy bear-hugged me while Parker wrote that first note on my skin. Him scribbling “smile” had started it all. I loved that note so much that Mom eventually had to hold me down in order to scrub it off.

Back then, that little note had been the start of something great for me and I wondered if that could be the case now. The ballpoint makes contact with my ankle as Parker moves it along my skin and I want to pull away, but I don’t. Concentrating on other things, I manage to endure a few minutes of uncomfortable tickling before he pulls the pen away, smiling and admiring his handiwork. With no explanation, he stands and my feet to plop down onto the cushions of the couch. “See ya tomorrow, kiddo.”

I watch him leave, my heart beating faster than it has in weeks, even though I’m lying down. I listen carefully as his Mustang roars to life and cruises down the long dirt road. Once the house is filled with silence, I decide to sit up. Crossing my leg over my thigh, I catch a glimpse the writing on my ankle. There in big block letters is Parker’s message to me.

“I MISS U.”

Looking at those three little words makes my heart hurt more than I thought imaginable.

Because I miss me too.

Summer presses on. The days are still hot from the sun, but the nights bring a chill, letting us know that fall is on its way. With each day that passes I become a little more comfortable in my skin. I’m slowly beginning to realize that I need to put the pieces of my former self back together again. I’ve been through this once before, and I know I can do it again. I can be strong when I want to be, and the desire to face this head on is present more and more. But even though I know I need to move forward, I know that things will never be the same.

Stevenson keeps telling me that moving on is the greatest tribute I can give my family, and although I still struggle with my moments of doubt, for the most part things are better. I’m starting to think I can be Katie again.

The horses help too, especially Onyx. I find it extremely therapeutic to take care of her and run her. She’s getting stronger each day, and it won’t be long before she’s ready to ride.

I get lost in my own thoughts as I stand in her stall brushing her beautiful dark coat. She quietly brays with approval and I smile, appreciating the way that I can communicate with her just through touch. Briefly, I wonder how she’d react to hearing my voice and commands. I’m considering speaking to her when I feel his presence.

“You taking her out today?”

I look up just in time to see Parker leaning on her stall door. He shoots me a crooked smile. “She’s almost ready to ride ya know. You’ve helped her get stronger. It’ll be good to see you back riding, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen that sight.”

Seven years to be exact.

Jumping down off the gate, he walks into the stall and pets Onyx’s muzzle. She nudges him, letting him know that his advances are welcomed and it annoys me that he even affects animals with a single touch. “You know, Katie, I think you and I and Tommy need to hang out again—for old times’ sake. It could be really good for you. We could go riding the back roads. Just us, Tommy’s truck, and music.”

I don’t really know if that’s something I want to do. Revisiting old times isn’t exactly something that’s easy for me.

“I know that we’ve had our moments,” he says, and his voice is quiet as he gently puts his hand on mine, “but I’m just trying to help you, kiddo.”

My eyes find his icy blue ones, hidden under the most beautiful lashes, and my heart skips. I want to pull my hand away, but I can’t. There is something about his touch, something soothing and familiar. Without thinking, I run my hand up the length of his arm, taking a step towards him and allowing myself to get closer. Everything stills and I know my brain is no longer in control of my action, this is all my heart.

Our stomachs touch and I’m so close that I’m able to breathe in the familiar scent of him. I search his face, looking for some sort of insight. What is he thinking?

With another step, I place my left hand on his chest. He looks at me, unsure of himself. Not something I see on Parker often.

Before he can argue I throw myself at him, my arms wrap around his waist and I place my head on his shoulder.

Every muscle in his body goes lax as I hug him. “Jesus, Katie, I’ve missed you,” he whispers running his hand through my dark blonde hair. “I just want to hear your voice.”

I want to believe him but I can’t. Parker McKenzie has always been full of it. Back when I knew him—really knew him—he’d say and do anything to get what he wanted. Everything was always a conquest for him, just like I had been… and probably still am.

Hands rest on either side of my face, and Parker gently lifts my gaze to his. I want to hate him. I want to push him away from me. But I can’t. I’m frozen, under the control of emotions that have been buried away for years. With the realization that he still has a hold on my heart, the guilt washes over me. My stomach churns and I start to pull away from him.

As if sensing my change in mood, he tightens his grip on my wrists and pulls me back in. He thumbs my bracelet, reminding me of the depth of our relationship. There are so many layers to Katie and Parker. Layers that no one will truly ever uncover.

“I know I treated you like shit, and I know that I don’t deserve for you to give me a chance, but you’ve gotta know that the minute you left town seven years ago, I knew I’d made a mistake. I know you know it too. You and I were the only thing that ever made sense to me, Katie.”

Emotions begin to stir inside of me. His eyes burn down on mine. I struggle to organize my thoughts, wondering what my next move will be. We’ve never talked about that day, and I want to know why.

I consider my options. Do I start my healing by figuring out my past? I just want to know why things ended up the way they did. I want to make sense of this crazy thing called my life.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Tommy’s voice bellows through the stable.

Just like two gawky teenagers getting caught for the first time, we break our embrace. I look up to see Tommy stalking angrily down the narrow walkway of the barn.

“She’s my family too, Tommy,” Parker calls out. “I have a right to hug her if I want.”

Before I know it, Tommy’s chest is bumping with Parker’s. They’re standing face to face, their noses practically touching. The tension in the stable has just increased tenfold.

“She’s been through enough without you fucking with her head again, Parker!”

“I’m not fucking with her.” Parker pushes Tommy away with his hands. Tommy clenches his fists and I can tell he’s doing his best to control his anger. A nervous ball of energy rests in my stomach and I watch helplessly as Parker exits the stall and walks out of the barn. “I’m helping her,” he calls over his shoulder. “You would understand that if you knew anything about your sister.” And with those parting words he leaves Tommy and I alone with nothing but our silent thoughts.

Time freezes, and I stand in the uncomfortable silence, appreciating that Tommy has brought me back to earth. I’d been in the clouds momentarily, but he’s right. I don’t need Parker messing with my head. I’m fragile enough as is. No matter how he makes me feel, I need to keep my feet on the ground, not in the clouds with Parker.

I finish prepping Onyx to head out into the yard, and all while Tommy’s eyes burn into my back. I can feel his anger, and my stomach ties in knots knowing that I’d been caught in a moment of weakness.

“Damn it, Katie, use your fuckin’ head. I love Parker like a brother, but you know just as well as I do that you can’t handle him,” Tommy bites out.

Deep down I know he’s right, again. To take his advice and ignore Parker would be the best thing to do. But I can’t ignore him. That was why I had run away in the first place. Parker McKenzie had a hold on me, whether I liked it or not. I ignore Tommy long enough that he finally gives up, huffing as he walks out of the stable.