Scratch Page 14

  “Tell me a little more about them,” Daniel asked as he headed onto the highway. He flicked the radio on and dug through my CD collection, then popped one in, an instrumental album with an old-fashioned feel.

  “Okay.” I blinked and forced myself to focus on our conversation, on the music, instead of on my building panic. To stay grounded in the moment instead of imagining complications. To trust that things would go okay.

  This was what you did when you were dating someone, I told myself. And it was definitely a good step if you were secretly in love with that person and wanting to make sure the two most important people in your life would like him too.

  “So, Grandma likes to cook. A lot. She was a stay-at-home wife and mom for many years while she raised her kids. My granddad is retired—he worked at the airport for a couple of decades, repairing airplanes.”

  He gave me a slow nod of approval. “That’s pretty badass. My grandmother worked for Ford in their accounting department. She actually didn’t retire until she was in her late sixties. She loved her job.”

  “And your grandfather? What did he do?”

  He paused. “He passed away last year. He was really sick for a long time—cancer. But before that, he was in life insurance.”

  “I’m sorry.” I squeezed his hand. “Were you guys close?”

  “He was a cool man.” His voice was light, but I could detect a thread of sadness in his tone. He was still upset by the death. “I miss him a lot. My sisters and I went to his house every summer. He was very outdoorsy.”

  It kind of surprised me Daniel hadn’t talked about him before now. Then again, with all the secrets I was still carrying, I had no right to think anything of it. And if I let him unravel himself at his own pacing, then I could do the same without the guilt.

  Though I knew when he found out the truth about my past—and he would at some time, though thankfully not tonight, since I’d made my grandparents swear to not bring it up—I didn’t know how that would change things with us. Would he be mad at me for keeping it to myself for so long? Would he understand why I was hesitant to discuss what had happened?

  It was hard enough to fight my instinct to retreat into myself all the time. It was hard enough knowing that despite the pain, I needed to keep my mom and sister alive in my memory. But to rip that vein open and pour it all out? I couldn’t do it. Not yet.

  I couldn’t dump those burdens on him.

  Yes, I had a right to my secrets. After all, at this point, he and I hadn’t been together that long as a couple. But hurting him would make me feel horrible. I worried it could do real damage to us if he was offended and pulled away from me.

  I shook off those dark thoughts, keeping my hand firmly locked in his, and drove to the house. Today was not about my past. It was about my present. I looked over at him and saw the way the air conditioning fluttered that one lock on his brow. That dimple that popped up whenever he thought of something that amused him. I wanted to commit everything to memory. Mentally photograph each moment we spent together.

  “I can feel you staring at me,” he said, eyes still facing forward. That dimple deepened. “Like what you see? I am quite the catch.”

  I snorted. “Your modesty is overwhelming.”

  “Eh, you don’t love me for my modesty,” he declared.

  My breath hitched. I knew he was joking, but having it out there so easily made me freeze up. Maybe he already knew how I felt. If he did, why hadn’t he said it, then? Was he waiting for me to do it?

  Our arrival onto my grandparents’ street interrupted my train wreck of thoughts. “We’re here.” I pulled into their driveway. Pull yourself together! I ordered myself. Good grief, falling in love was making me a neurotic mess. It was a passing comment, nothing more. Stop reading into everything. I pasted on a big smile and flung the door open.

  He got out too but paused before closing his door, staring at me over the hood of the car. “You okay?”

  “Oh. Yes. I’m fine,” I said. My fake smile grew wider, and I tried to slow down my hammering heart.

  He frowned. “Okay.” He sounded skeptical.

  The door opened, and my grandmother stepped out onto the porch. “Come in,” she said, raising a hand over her eyes to shade them. Her other hand waved us closer. “It’s hot out here—seems like this summer’s never going to end. You’re going to melt.”

  My smile was growing increasingly brittle as my hands began to shake. My stomach churned. Daniel and I walked over to her; he was at least a good foot taller than her, but he didn’t try to look like he was towering.

  “Grandma, this is Daniel.”

  He stuck out his hand. “I’m so pleased to meet you, Mrs. Mackintosh.”

  She raised a brow and shot me a glance as if to say, Wow, a boy with manners—shocker! “Pleased to meet you too. Come inside. I have some fresh lemonade ready, or iced tea if you prefer.”

  We followed her in. The air conditioning hit me hard and sent goose bumps along my bare arms. In all the fuss, I’d forgotten to wear long sleeves to her house. Crud. I rubbed my arms and moved into the living room, and we sat down on the couch.

  With Daniel here, I eyed the house from a stranger’s perspective. Furniture that was a bit old-fashioned but comfortable. Neutral beige carpet. Knickknacks on curio cabinets and shelves. Photos of me covering most of the back wall. My high school graduation picture on the fireplace mantel, with a red and black tassel hanging from the corner.

  I finally dared to look over at him and saw him eyeing the room too.

  He glanced at me. “She seems nice,” he whispered.

  “She is,” I found myself whispering back. A little bit of tension drained from my shoulders.

  Grandma returned with two glasses of lemonade. My mouth began to water just from thinking about it—there was something about her tart, sweet lemonade that I couldn’t seem to replicate, no matter how often I tried.

  She sat down on the edge of her chair and crossed her slender legs at the ankles. I noticed she’d taken care to put on blush and eye shadow today, and she was wearing the gold cross Granddad had bought her for her birthday last year. My heart swelled—I guessed she wanted to make a good impression too.

  I wasn’t the only one nervous. Of course, this was the first guy I’d ever brought home, so no wonder she and I were on edge. A little more tension seeped away.

  “Granddad will be home any minute,” she said. “He ran to the store to get more milk, since I used the last of it for mashed potatoes.” She paused and set her hands on her lap. “Daniel, tell me about you. I understand you’re an English major?”

  He nodded. “Minoring in art history.”

  They spent the next few minutes talking about his classes. I sat in silence and just watched. He was easy and respectful with her, his laugh quiet but genuine as he explained his future aspirations. “So after weighing all of my options, I think I’ll get my master’s and then teach for a while,” he concluded. “I really do love school. This seems the best way to stay in without having to keep racking up student loans.”

  “Casey’s been working hard on her classes. We’re proud of her. She’s been on the dean’s list every semester since freshman year.”

  “Grandma,” I said, trying to not roll my eyes. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “Pish,” she said with a wave of her hand. “You’re too modest.”

  The door opened. “I have the milk,” Granddad declared. He strolled into the living room and held out his free hand. His voice was even, but his eyes were serious. “Pleased to meet you, son.”

  I stifled a moan. So it was going to be that kind of night. Maybe we could eat fast and run.

  Grandma stood, giving a slight groan as she pushed up from the couch. “Back’s killing me today. Anyway, let’s get the table set. It’s time to eat.”

  Dinner wasn’t nearly as painful as I’d been afraid it would be. For the most part, my grandparents didn’t embarrass me by asking Daniel supernosy questions
. Little by little, my uneasiness settled. I felt guilty for my earlier paranoia—I should have known they wouldn’t push my comfort zone by being too aggressive with him. They were polite, and he responded in kind.

  Even so, with all of that politeness, my heart was a riot of emotions on the inside. I kept a faint smile on my face and finished my dinner—fried chicken, green beans and mashed potatoes, another favorite meal—but I couldn’t stop being aware of Daniel. Couldn’t stop thinking about how important he’d become to me in just a few weeks. Crazy, but true.

  His knee brushed against mine. On purpose? Accident?

  I shifted in my seat so our legs would be just a touch closer. His knee reached over again, and it stayed there this time. A solid, steady pressure that warmed me. Definitely not an accident, then. I tried to suppress a huge smile that would give anything away.

  “I understand from Casey that you collect World War Two memorabilia,” Daniel said to Granddad. “I took a course last year that focused on modern wars of the twentieth century. It amazed me how fighting tactics changed so drastically with World War One. Rules no longer applied, and people struggled to adapt.”

  Granddad blinked. A genuine smile crept over his face, and his wrinkles deepened around the eyes. “That’s true. I have some autobiographies by soldiers from World Wars One and Two, and they talk about how hard it was to adjust returning home after all the violence.”

  “Did you ever read Unbroken?” Daniel asked. “It’s about an Olympic runner who was in the second war. His tale of survival was amazing.”

  They spent the next twenty minutes discussing the book. Granddad was in his zone—I could see him getting more and more worked up as Daniel shared thoughts and speculations about the wars. He was no longer simply being polite but was full-on engaging.

  Seeing Daniel reach out to my granddad on something so important to him made emotion suddenly tighten my throat. I reached my hand under the table and rested it on his thigh.

  He dropped his hand down and slipped it over mine, squeezing.

  I’d never had a connection with someone like Daniel before—he challenged me, made me laugh, frustrated me, turned me on like nothing I’d felt in my life. Was it too much for me to hope this was real, that it would last? The pressure of his fingers on mine was very real, very concrete. His knee pressing against my knee.

  The way he’d held me last night. Stroked my hair until I’d fallen asleep.

  Real too.

  All I knew was, I wanted to bring him back here with me next week. I wanted to learn everything I could about him. I wanted us to have inside jokes we could laugh about before bed. To put my cold feet against his legs so he’d grumble. Watch hours of marathon movies together. Go on vacation to somewhere fun and take a hundred pictures we’d plaster all over Facebook.

  Do things that regular couples did, things that wove them together.

  My heart was aching, bursting with all my emotions for him. It was all too much, too much and yet not enough, because I wanted more. Did I have the courage to reach out for it and take it?

  “Casey?” Grandma’s voice penetrated my consciousness. She waved in front of my face. “Hey, are you listening?”

  Crap. I’d been caught daydreaming. I gave an embarrassed smile. “Sorry. My mind just—”

  “I was saying, let’s clear the dinner plates, because I think your granddad wants to show Daniel some things in his den before you guys have to go. You do have work tonight, yes?”

  I nodded.

  “I can help clean up,” Daniel offered.

  “No, really, it’s okay.” I laughed. “I’ve seen his collection a hundred times. You’re fresh meat—he won’t let you get out of it that easily.”

  The two men walked away.

  As Grandma stood, I noticed her reaching for her back. Her face twisted in a momentary flash of pain.

  “You sit right there,” I ordered. “I’ll take care of this.” Gave me something to focus on, anyway.

  She sighed. “My old bones are growing older. I can tell the autumn cold’s finally going to come on soon—I’m getting achy.”

  “Please. You’re not that old,” I said as I grabbed the plates and scraped them off. “You guys are barely in your seventies.” It kind of scared me to think about them getting older, so I tried to focus on dishes.

  We were quiet for a few minutes as I worked. I loaded the dishwasher and turned it on.

  “He’s a sweet boy,” Grandma said. Her voice was quiet, sincere. “Cares a lot about you too.”

  I turned around and pressed my back against the counter. “I really like him,” I admitted to her. It was so strange, saying it out loud. But it was true. “Maybe even more than like.” Okay, not just maybe, but I wasn’t quite ready to admit my love yet. And when I did, I’d be telling him first.

  Grandma gave me a small smile. She looked so tired. My chest squeezed. Had she always looked this wiped? Was she sick?

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. I couldn’t help the nervous tremble in my voice. “Are you okay?”

  “Healthy as a horse,” she soothed. “I’m not going anywhere, honey. At least, I don’t think so—not for a while. Just a little tired today. Most days are fine.”

  I dropped down into the seat beside her. I knew she wouldn’t lie to me; if she was sick, she’d tell me. But this reminded me I needed to value our time together more. And do what I could to help take care of her.

  She reached for my hand and clasped it between her palms. Hers were so tiny, so frail compared to mine. “I love you, and I’m glad you brought him here so we could meet him. But you need to tell him, Casey. Don’t keep putting it off. I can see how it’s eating away at you.”

  “I know.” My stupid throat tightened again. I cast a guilty glance in the area of the den. “But . . . it’ll change everything.”

  “If he’s the right man, things will work out.”

  I gave a wordless nod.

  She patted my hand and released it. “You’d better go find that boy before your granddad overwhelms him. You know how he likes to go on.” She chuckled. “Though I gotta say, if he can survive Granddad, he can survive anything.”

  We said our good-byes; Daniel thanked them profusely for having him over. Granddad even gave him a hug before we left.

  “Thank you for inviting me,” Daniel said after we got in the car. “That was a lot of fun.” He shot me a grin. “Now what?”

  I glanced at the time on my phone. “Now I head home and get ready for work. You?” With a smile, I put the car in reverse and pulled out of the drive, onto the street.

  “Oh, I’m just going to sit at home and think about a girl who’s at work tonight. No big deal.”

  My cheeks flushed with pleasure. “Huh. Well, maybe if that gets boring, you could stop by. You know, to say hi or something.”

  Wow. I was flirting. Definitely flirting. And the more I did it with him, the less awkward it got.

  I merged onto the highway.

  He slid me a sideways glance, and there was a melting heat in that gaze, that crooked smile that curled my toes and made my lower belly hum in anticipation. “Maybe I will, Casey.”

  Chapter 17

  The crowd was extra packed tonight at The Mask. Thankfully, Sal had finally repaired the air conditioner—after Justin and I had harassed him nonstop—so it wasn’t superhot in the club. Which was good, since I’d taken extra care with my appearance today. Makeup, curled hair, even a tight-fitting tank top with my favorite jeans.

  Megan had given me a loud, embarrassing whistle when I’d stepped out of my bedroom. I’d rolled my eyes but secretly, it was nice to feel attractive.

  A guy walked up to the DJ booth. He was nice looking, with shaggy blond hair and huge brown eyes. His smile was wide and appreciative. “Hey, what was the name of that last song?”

  I glanced down. “Um, it was a new song out by Paradise Found. ‘Gutter Mom.’ ” I chuckled. “They have a way with titles, I guess.”

  He laughe
d. “Not what I’d been expecting, but thanks.” He turned to go, then paused, looked back up at me. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Me? I blinked. “Um, I’m . . . good, but—”

  “Gotta get hot up there in that booth,” he cajoled. He took another step up until he was just a couple of feet away. His thick, tanned hand leaned casually against the rail of my booth. I could smell his body spray. “Sure I can’t get ya something?”

  “I got it covered,” a familiar voice said from right behind him. Daniel squeezed by, holding a water and a beer, and pressed a soft kiss to my mouth. He put the water down and snaked an arm around my waist. “Sorry I’m so late. I meant to be here earlier.”

  The guy took in Daniel’s possessive gesture, then gave a small nod. “Gotcha. Thanks.”

  “Thanks anyway,” I said as he departed. I turned to look at Daniel. A small smile crooked on my face. “That was interesting.”

  “What?” he said as he grabbed his beer and took a sip.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Were you jealous?”

  He huffed. “Me? Jealous?” Then, “Okay, yes. Maybe a little.”

  “It’s not normally like that,” I said. I sipped my water, happy to relieve my parched throat. “No one pays any attention to me.”

  The song ended, and I changed to the next one.

  “You think you’re invisible, but you’re not.” Daniel’s words were surprisingly serious. “You have no idea how attractive you are. And it’s not just about looks. There’s something about you—an intensity that makes people want to be one of the trusted ones. One of the people you drop your walls for and let in.”

  I swallowed, stared at him. No one had said anything like that to me before. For so long, I’d wanted to be the invisible girl, though. Having my family nightmare plastered all over the news for weeks as a young teen had scarred me for years.

  And yet . . . I could sense something changing in me. When that guy had come up, I hadn’t rebuffed him with a gruff word. I’d talked to him.