Read Rum Spring Online

Authors: Yolanda Wallace

Tags: #! Yes

Rum Spring (9 page)

BOOK: Rum Spring
7.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Dylan tried to pull away but Rebecca held fast.

“Don’t. Stay with me.”

Rebecca could hear someone panting. She realized with a start that the sound was coming from her. She shivered involuntarily when she saw the hungry look in Dylan’s eyes. Why was she shivering when she was so hot? Her body felt as if it were on fire. When Dylan’s lips brushed against her ear, the feather-soft touch made the fire grew hotter.

“It’s been weeks since you let me kiss you.”

Rebecca melted in the crucible that was Dylan’s gaze.

“I told myself I wouldn’t kiss you again until it meant as much to me as it does to you. May I kiss you now?”

Dylan licked her lips as if her mouth was dry. “Please.”

Rebecca tentatively lifted her mouth to Dylan’s. Dylan returned the kiss, then took the lead. She backed Rebecca against the wall and slowly parted her lips with her tongue. She slipped one leg between Rebecca’s and pulled her closer.

Rebecca moved against Dylan’s leg. How had she known to do that? And why did it feel so good? Needing more, she clutched at Dylan’s hips with one hand. She slipped the other under Dylan’s T-shirt and slid her palm over the smooth skin of Dylan’s back. She had never felt anything so soft.

Dylan stroked Rebecca’s hair, then buried her fingers in it. “I want to feel your hair on my skin,” she said as she nuzzled Rebecca’s neck. “I want to see you.”

Rebecca remembered the day she had walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. She remembered the way Dylan’s eyes had crawled over her body. She longed for them to make the journey once more. She moved her hand from Dylan’s hips to the back of her neck and pulled Dylan’s mouth down to hers. When their lips met, Rebecca felt their souls become one.

Dylan shuddered and groaned deep in her throat. “We have to stop.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to stop.” She crossed the room and turned off the music, then stood with her back to Rebecca. “Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?” she asked without turning around. “To want you as much as I do and not be able to have you?”

Rebecca put her arms around Dylan and rested her head on the back of Dylan’s shoulder. “Is it always like this?”

Dylan leaned into Rebecca’s embrace. “I don’t know. I’ve never felt anything like this.”

“Neither have I.”

Dylan turned to face Rebecca. Did Rebecca just say what she thought she said? “What about Tobias? What about your family?”

“I don’t know the answers to your questions.”

Dylan kissed Rebecca on the tip of her nose. “So let’s figure them out together.”

Chapter Five

The night Dylan turned eighteen, she watched The Age of Innocence, Martin Scorsese’s 1993 period piece starring Michelle Pfeiffer and Daniel Day-Lewis as ill-fated lovers in 1870s New York.

“Who is that?” Rebecca asked when the actress appeared on screen.

“That,” Dylan replied, pleased Rebecca was impressed by one of her favorite actresses, “is Michelle Pfeiffer.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“If you think she looks good in this, you should see her in Batman Returns. The scene where she licked Michael Keaton’s face in the alley made me want to run out and buy some heavy-duty white thread, some latex, and a sewing needle. Before that movie came out, I thought the perfect Catwoman had Julie Newmar’s playfulness and Eartha Kitt’s purr. After the film was released, I realized no Catwoman could be complete without Michelle Pfeiffer’s lips.”

Rebecca reached for another handful of popcorn. “So when do I get to see that one?”

“I’ll rent it next weekend.”

“You don’t have it already?” Dylan’s movie collection, housed in a built-in bookcase that doubled as an entertainment center, took up nearly an entire wall of her room. “It looks like you have a copy of every movie ever made. How could there possibly be one missing?”

“Batman Returns was okay and Catwoman’s part of it was terrific, but the Penguin’s backstory kind of turned me off. The writers spent half the film developing it and it didn’t really go anywhere. Or, at least, not far enough. If there’s a villain, I want to love him or hate him, not feel sorry for him.”

“I love how excited you get when you talk about movies. Your whole face lights up.”

“That’s because you’re here.”

Dylan hoped the comment would lead Rebecca to step out of her comfort zone and share her feelings for once. She didn’t have to tell Dylan she was madly in love with her or anything, though it would have been nice to hear. Instead, Rebecca changed the subject.

“What do you want to do for your birthday?”

“I’m doing it.”

“Watching a movie you’ve seen a hundred times?”

“No,” Dylan replied, bumping Rebecca’s shoulder with her own. “Spending time with you.”

“But don’t you want to do something special?”

Dylan bumped Rebecca with her shoulder again. “I am.” When she noticed the funny look on Rebecca’s face, she paused the movie. “What did you do?”

Rebecca looked sheepish but didn’t say anything.

“Rebecca.”

“Your parents told me they want to take you to dinner and I kind of said we didn’t have anything planned.”

Dylan grimaced. “Please tell me you didn’t do that.”

“Sorry, I did. Is that a bad thing?”

Normally, Dylan didn’t mind family time, but this group outing would take away from her time with Rebecca. She didn’t want to make Rebecca feel worse than she already seemed to, though, so she tried to put a positive spin on things. “I’ve finally convinced Mom and Dad that Chuck E. Cheese is no longer my first choice for dining out, so it should be okay. And I’m sure being cooped up with me can’t be your idea of fun.”

“I don’t care what we do when we’re together as long as we’re doing it together, but I don’t want to keep you from doing the things you normally do.”

“You aren’t keeping me from anything. Don’t ever think that way. I want to be with you every moment of every day. When something or someone gets in the way of that, I get a little upset. I don’t mean to be so selfish or to sound like a stalker, but I live for these moments with you. I want them to be perfect.”

“They are. I want to share my life with you. All of it. The good and the bad.”

“So you know what that means, don’t you?”

“What does it mean?”

Dylan dragged Rebecca toward the door. “It means you’re coming with us.”

“Where do you want to go?” Mrs. Mahoney asked after everyone piled into her car.

“How about Shogun?” Dylan said. “I love that place. We used to go all the time but we haven’t been there in forever.”

“What’s Shogun?” Rebecca asked.

“It’s a Japanese restaurant in the Keystone Shopping Center. Since it’s teppanyaki-style, it’s the kind of place where you sit around a really big table and the chefs cook the food right in front of you. It’s really cool. You’ll love it.”

“So no hot dogs and French fries?” Mr. Mahoney asked.

“More like spring rolls and cream cheese wontons,” Mrs. Mahoney said.

Mr. Mahoney stuck out his tongue the way Rebecca had the night Mrs. Mahoney introduced her to Brussels sprouts. “Make it Yakiniku steak and we have a deal.”

Mrs. Mahoney drove into town and found a spot in the crowded parking lot.

“Follow me, please.” The greeter led them past several open tables and toward the area traditionally reserved for private functions.

“What’s going on?” Dylan asked.

Mr. and Mrs. Mahoney shrugged as if they didn’t know what she was talking about. Rebecca played innocent, too. She couldn’t wait to see how Dylan reacted to what was in store for her. Rebecca’s anticipation had been building for weeks. Ever since she dropped off a quilt at My Souvenirs and Mrs. Mahoney told her she wanted to plan a surprise party for Dylan’s birthday—and she needed Rebecca’s help to pull it off. Mrs. Mahoney always made Rebecca feel welcome, but her request had made her feel like part of the family.

Rebecca’s role in Dylan’s life was getting bigger. So was Dylan’s role in hers. Would they continue to play a part in each other’s lives in a few years, or would they become more like strangers than friends?

The greeter opened the panel door that led to one of the two banquet rooms. The space was filled with dozens of people—Dylan’s friends, classmates, and coworkers, along with a few of Mr. and Mrs. Mahoney’s friends. “Surprise!” they yelled.

Dylan covered her face with her hands.

Mr. Mahoney squeezed Dylan’s shoulders and pushed her forward. “Gotcha.”

“Happy birthday, buddy,” Willie said.

Dylan gave her a hug.

“This room looks just like a scene from Rashomon. I feel like I’m standing in the woods where most of the action took place. I know you did the artwork, so don’t even deny it. So this is what you’ve been up to the past month. Every time I tried to make plans with her, she blew me off and said she was busy,” Dylan explained to Rebecca before turning back to Willie. “I thought you were hooking up with someone new and you were here busting your ass for me?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“How did you know we’d end up here?”

“Because I know you. Nice job on the misdirection, Rebecca.”

“You were in on this, too?” Dylan asked.

“Guilty as charged,” Rebecca said, borrowing Willie’s phrase. Her lessons with Willie were proving to be mutually beneficial. Rebecca taught Willie Pennsylvania Dutch. In return, Willie taught Rebecca English slang. Dylan had helped Rebecca learn English, but she hadn’t taught her how to curse. Willie took care of that during their very first class. Now Rebecca could, in Willie’s words, “curse like a sailor.” Whatever that meant.

“Way to go, teach.” Willie held up her hand for a high five. Rebecca slapped her palm against Willie’s. “Go mingle, D. I’m sure everyone wants a piece of you. I’ll take care of your girl while you’re gone. Come on, teach. Let’s grab something to eat before all the food disappears.”

Rebecca trailed Willie to the buffet table. Following her lead, Rebecca piled her plate high with one exotic dish after another. She avoided the baby octopus salad, though. Rebecca could barely believe such a creature existed and had no idea why Willie or anyone else would want to eat one.

“How’s it going, Mrs. Ziegenfus?” Willie tapped an impatient finger against her plate while the woman ahead of her in line piled hers with fried rice.

“Fine, Willie. Just fine.” The woman added two more scoops of rice before she replaced the spoon.

Willie provided introductions. “Rebecca, I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Ziegenfus. She just moved here from Florida. Dylan and I are in her French class. Mrs. Ziegenfus, Rebecca Lapp.”

“Pleased to meet you, Rebecca. Are you Dylan’s little Amish friend?” Rebecca winced when Mrs. Ziegenfus pronounced it Ay-mish instead of Ah-mish. “Where’s your bonnet and your cute little apron?”

“She left them outside in her buggy,” Willie said.

Mrs. Ziegenfus laughed, then abruptly stopped when she realized no one was laughing with her.

“Rebecca is Dylan’s friend,” Willie said. “Mine, too.”

“Thanks for coming to my defense,” Rebecca said after she and Willie sat down.

“Not a problem. Mrs. Ziegenfus is a great teacher, but she has a bit of a superiority complex. No one is allowed to make my friends feel ‘less than.’”

“How long have you and Dylan been friends?”

“Since we were in diapers.”

“And you’ve always been…friends?”

“That’s a cute way of asking if we’ve ever been more than that.”

Rebecca sampled the spicy chicken. The peppers immediately set her tongue on fire and she reached for a glass of water. “Have you?” she asked after choking it down.

“No. I like blondes and she likes brunettes.”

Remembering her experience with the spicy chicken, Rebecca tentatively picked up a Philadelphia roll. The combination of salmon, cream cheese, and cucumber was surprisingly good. Refreshing, even.

Rebecca took in Willie’s long brown hair and feminine features. “I still don’t think you look like a boy.”

Willie flashed a wicked grin. “I have my moments.”

“Does Dylan like bois?”

“She likes you. I like you, too. Not in the same way, of course. But I think you’re cool.”

“Did you not expect to become fond of me?”

“Before I met you, I spent hours trying to think of polite responses to Dylan’s inevitable ‘So what did you think?’ Thankfully, I didn’t have to use any of my prepared lies. I found you curiously captivating. A year later, I still do.”

“Because I’m so different from you?”

“Because you’re so much like me. Dylan’s my best friend and I love her to death. I think you do, too. Not in the same way, of course. If you ever need anything, give me a call, okay?”

“But I don’t have a phone.”

Willie smiled. “It’s an expression, teach. It means if you ever need a friend, you’ve got one in me. No matter what happens with you and Dylan.”

Rebecca covered Willie’s hand with her own. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Dylan joined them at the table. “What are you two plotting now?”

“Nothing that involves you,” Willie replied with a wink. “Not this time, at least.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Dylan asked.

“You have a lot of things here.”

Rebecca looked at Dylan’s impressive haul. It had taken two trips to bring all her gifts in from the car. Almost all of them. After hearing about a historic theater scheduled to be demolished, Mrs. Mahoney had gone online, purchased two of the seats, and had them reupholstered. Those prize possessions were sitting under a tarp in the garage, where they would remain until Mr. Mahoney could find the time to install them in Dylan’s home theater/bedroom.

Dylan put her arms around Rebecca and pulled her close. “I don’t mean the things. I mean you. You and everyone else who showed up tonight. You worked for weeks to sew me a quilt. Willie put hours and hours into painting that backdrop. Then my parents came up with all this subterfuge in the first place. Why did you do all this for me?”

“Because we love you.”

Dylan cupped her hand around her ear as if she hadn’t heard. “Say that again.”

“Because we love you,” Rebecca repeated.

Dylan leaned forward. “One more time?”

BOOK: Rum Spring
7.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Sharpshooter by Cynthia Eden
Sunset Key by Blake Crouch
Zein: The Homecoming by Graham J. Wood
Into You by Sibarium, Danielle
Playing for Julia by Carroll, Annie
High Stakes by Erin McCarthy
Cat on the Scent by Rita Mae Brown