“I just have a bad feeling about it,” he said quietly.
He was lying. He was also standing unnecessarily close. I tried to back up, but my legs met the edge of the bench. His expression shifted subtly to some unspoken question.
“I’ve been thinking about something you said the other day,” he said.
“What?”
“Actually, you didn’t say it so much with words.” He touched a hand to my arm and electricity lit up my nerves. He laughed softly, and his eyes went warm. “Kind of like that,” he said.
I was acutely aware of how little space remained between my body and his, and the next thing I knew, my fingers wanted to go touching all over his clean blue shirt.
“I’m not sure how to say this. I have a boyfriend sort of. Or I did. It’s kind of murky,” I said.
“Linus left you,” he said. “I watched the show.”
“I talked to him just the other day, though,” I said.
That stopped him. He glanced around the barn and then focused back on me, more intently than before. “I don’t see him here.”
“I know, but—”
“Just no,” Tom said.
Then he kissed me.
I should not have melted, but I couldn’t help it. I should have been able to step away, but instead I moved closer, right up against his shirt, which was just as soft as it looked. The journal slipped from my fingers, and I slid my hands up his back. His warmth spread into me, and I kept reaching for more until I was on my tiptoes. Gravity, I discovered, did not apply on planet Tom.
“This is really not right,” I said, torn.
“Too much talking.”
He moved in again, and I went along until I had to gasp for breath. I linked a finger through his belt loop and tried to clear my thoughts. I attempted to focus on his chin, but his chin was very close to his lips. I shut my eyes.
“Tom. We have to stop,” I said.
He backed up an inch, but he didn’t release me.
“There’s a very nice loft up that ladder,” he said. “I could help you get up. We’d be very careful.”
I opened my eyes to look up at him. Logic warned me that going up that ladder with him would be a mistake, but the physical side of me was fully good to go. In a very serious manner, he brushed a strand of my hair back around my ear.
“You’re not ready, are you?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He leaned in again for another kiss. “Okay,” he said.
“Okay?” I said.
He nodded and stepped back. “Yes. We’re good.”
My knees were wobbly, and my skin felt hypersensitive. I was both relieved and disappointed. He ducked his head for a second and pushed his hair back from his eyes before he smiled at me again.
“I think you dropped this,” he said, handing me Althea’s journal. “I don’t think you should read it, but it’s up to you.”
Right. I’d completely forgotten it. He could easily have taken it.
“Thanks,” I said, brushing a bit of hay off the brown cover. I looked up at him again, and a mysterious light flickered in his eyes. I bit inward on my tender lips, then licked them.
He groaned and looked away. “Time for me to get on home.”
*
Later that night, after I’d said good night to the family, I went upstairs to read Althea’s journal. As I undid the twine, a photo of a collie slipped out onto my bedspread. I turned it over and read “Gizmo 2054–2065 Best Dog Ever.” With a twinge of guilty curiosity, I opened the little book. Althea’s journal was not a series of entries written over weeks or months. It was a single outpouring of tight, hard-pressed handwriting that gouged into the paper.
Gizmo’s dead. I can’t believe he’s gone! He was my best friend, my one true friend always there when I needed him. Why does it hurt so much? He’s okay now. He’s out of pain now. Why am I so furious at EVERYTHING? My parents. Daniel again. Tom, and all he tried to do was be nice tonight. I hate that he’s nice to me. He doesn’t even know me. I wish I had Gizmo here with me! I would hold his sweet head and look into his trusting brown eyes. He had such hopeful eyebrows. His little eyebrows! He would understand me like he always does. This place will never be the same. Why’d you have to die? Why did I ever have to meet Daniel? How could he treat me like that? I still can’t believe I trusted him when I should have known! I should have known! His filthy back seat. I can still hear him. He makes me feel disgusting. Oh, Gizmo. No. I’m stronger now. I don’t have to feel this mess anymore. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why am I crying over this again? I’m not thirteen anymore! I just wish Gizmo was here! I miss my dog.
R.I.P. Gizmo Flores
BEST DOG EVER
BEST FRIEND EVER
Her words buzzed straight to my heart. Poor Althea. Quietly, I closed her journal and picked up the photo of Gizmo again, holding it lightly. It was true that Gizmo’s eyebrow bumps made him look sympathetic. Whatever Daniel did to Althea when she was thirteen must have been deeply painful.
I felt so awful for her. What a life she’d had—some trauma at thirteen, then losing her dog, then pregnancy and a motorcycle accident at eighteen. Being rich hadn’t saved her from trouble and loss. Then I remembered how Tom had said Althea walked proudly in high school. She had all those riding trophies, too, and her aim of being a psychiatrist. She’d felt deeply and suffered, but she’d been strong, too. I had the feeling she wouldn’t want me to pity her.
The baby rolled inside me, poking a knee or elbow into my side. I slid heavily off my bed and slipped the journal into the bottom drawer of my dresser. A ping of headache made me cringe for a moment, and I opened my window for a crack of fresh air. The night had grown late, and the moon hung over the valley, clear and serene.
My phone buzzed on the dresser, and I saw I’d missed a row of texts from Tom. Nothing from Linus. For the first time, I called Tom back.
“How much do you know about what happened to Althea when she was younger?” I asked.
“Did she mention a guy?” Tom said.
“Yes. Daniel.”
“When I saw her journal, that’s what I was afraid of,” Tom said. “She never talked about him much, just told me he raped her after a riding competition. She was pretty messed up about it. She almost quit competing because she was afraid to see him again.”
“Do her parents know?” I asked.
“Yes. She saw a therapist for a while. That’s really all I know. And the guy’s family moved out of town. I always wondered if your dad had something to do with that.”
“Did you know him?”
“No.”
I could see a corner of the pool from my angle, and someone had left the lights on so the water glowed.
“Do you remember any of it?” Tom asked.
I shook my head. “No. The only thing I’ve come close to remembering, and it isn’t even a memory, is a feeling I get when I’m with you.”
I touched a finger to the window sash, waiting for a reply, while his silence pulled the thread of my nerves.
“I’m coming over,” Tom said.