The Art of My Life (29 page)

February 14

Like a kid tagged in freeze
tag, my arm halts in mid-air. The work cries for that one last
brushstroke. But I can’t do it. Not yet. I don’t know when I’ll be
ready. I don’t care how long I have to walk around the easel,
stubbing my toes on it. The last stroke could be the one that makes
it a masterpiece or a tragedy.

Aly at
www.The-Art-Of-My-Life.blogspot.com

Fish handed Aly’s last box to her
through the companionway. It was a stroke of luck that Aly was
moving aboard on Valentine’s Day. He’d ask her to hang out later,
keep his mind off the just-friends he and Missy had agreed on.
“When are you opening your gallery?”

She dropped into the built-in seat
behind its laptop-sized desk. “End of the month after the closing
on my condo. I need the money from the sale for capital.” She
looked up at him. “Cal did me a favor getting me to quit my job. I
don’t know if I would have taken the leap to start my own
business.”

“
Cal living here when he
gets out?”

Aly shrugged and pulled a well-creased
piece of paper with handwriting on it from the back pocket of her
jeans. She handed it to him through the companionway.

He read the letter in Cal’s familiar
scrawl. Cal’s despair clawed at his gut. So, Cal had finally told
Aly he loved her. Fish handed the page back to Aly. “How do you
feel about what he said?”

Aly bit down on her lip, holding back
tears. She drew in a shaky breath. “I love Cal. But I need a guy
who’s stable, not a pothead, not a flight risk. My dad abandoned me
when I was a kid. It nearly killed me that Cal planned on running
away, never seeing me again. He would have gone through with it if
I hadn’t talked him out of it. I don’t know what to do about Cal.”
Wetness filled up her eyes and she blinked it away.

He climbed down the ladder. “I’m
stable.” He grinned. “Let’s go to Ocean’s Seafood—talk about life,
forget it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“
I’ve always had a soft
spot for you, Fish. You’re like a brother.”

“
Yeah, I get that a
lot.”

“
Call Missy. I wouldn’t be
good company. Anyway, I have to unpack and I’ve only got two weeks
to put my entire business together.”

“
Missy’s probably got six
guys from her man file lined up to take her out.”

“
You won’t know if you
don’t call.”

Five hours later Fish’s truck rolled
across the gravel driveway in front of Missy’s house. He’d finally
come up with a non-date idea to spend time with her. But walking up
to the back door, his chest tightened and his pulse sped up. He ran
a hand over his shower-damp hair. Seeing her on Valentine’s Day was
a mistake.

They’d texted almost daily since the
sail, talked a few times, but backpedaling into friendship when
you’d already made out with a girl was as tricky as extracting a
hook from the lip of a mackerel. He couldn’t keep making out with
Missy, not when she gunned for producing the next generation—and he
was plain gun shy.

He rapped a knuckle on the door he’d
entered a thousand times without knocking.

Missy swung it open. Her throaty,
“Hey,” wrapped around him and pulled him into the
kitchen.

His eyes feasted on the sprinkling of
freckles on her cheeks, the way the light glinted off her curls,
the brown of her eyes. “Hey, yourself.” How had he stayed away for
two weeks? He inhaled orange blossoms as he walked past her,
clenching his hands to keep from reaching for her.

He was going to have to grow some
restraint or he couldn’t let himself spend time with her at all. He
pulled out a chair and slid Missy’s laptop in front of him. “Are
your folks around?”

Missy took the chair beside him. “Out
to dinner.”

So what if they were alone. He could
do this. He powered up the computer, typed in Biblegateway.com,
forgiveness
in the search box. “We’re going to find
something to erase your shame and the crap load of stuff I wish I
never did.”

“
I didn’t know if you were
serious that morning on the boat.”

Twenty-five verses later, he kneed her
thigh and read the words on the screen, “… And you forgave the
guilt of my sin.’ ”

Missy leaned her head back and closed
her eyes.

He watched her, letting his leg fall
against hers.

Missy’s eyes opened and locked with
his, and for a second he forced himself to let her look inside him
as he peered into her.

“
Yeah, this is helping.
Thanks.” She licked her lips.

His gaze followed the path of her
tongue, and he crossed half the distance between them before he
realized he was about to complete their connection. “Sorry.” What
happened to parents protecting their daughters’ virtue? He scraped
his chair back, the sound loud in the silence. “You said kissing me
set you back six months.”

Missy’s eyes darted around the room.
Her cheeks pinked.

He grinned. “I was that
good?”

Missy eyed him. “You’ve had a lot of
practice.”

“
Only my
share.”

“
Maybe I’m the one who’s
the good kisser.”

He lifted his hands. “No complaints
here.” If it were up to him, he’d make out with her every chance he
got. But that wasn’t fair to her if he didn’t plan to marry
her.

Tires rolled across the gravel
outside, and their gazes stilled until Starr and Jackson walked
in.

Jackson peered over Missy’s shoulder
at her computer screen. “Homework?”

“
Pretty much,” Missy
said.

Maybe Missy didn’t want her folks
knowing what she was doing. But he’d snag his points. He shot a
grin at Jackson. “Pretty sweet getting caught by the preacher
reading Bible verses.”

Jackson laughed. “Carry on. I’ll grill
you about your parents some other time.” He headed into the dining
room.

Starr stopped in the doorway. “Why
don’t you take a couple casseroles home with you? Our freezer is
stuffed. Half the people from church brought food when Cal went to
jail.” She shook her head, bemused. “It’s almost as if people like
us better when they see our warts.”

After Starr left the room, Missy said,
“Three guys from church told Dad they had been to jail when they
were Cal’s age. I keep looking at the older men trying to figure
out who they are….”

“
Could have been me if Old
Man Phillips had turned me in to the police for Cal’s
weed.”

Missy tapped the computer screen.
“Maybe it’s your turn to do some forgiving.”

He’d rather do a back flip off the
North Bridge. Geez, he had to get out of here. His knee knocked
against her thigh as he stood, and he instantly craved full body
contact.

He had to see her again—someplace
where there would be plenty of people. “Want to meet at Flagler
Avenue Coffee Shop Tuesday night—to, uh, talk about this some
more?”

Missy’s brows shot up in surprise. Her
eyes studied his. “You look… like something is bothering
you.”

On multiple levels. He scrambled for
something non-combustible. “I—I need to forgive my folks.” This was
the first time he’d spoken the words.

Missy rose from her chair and folded
her arms across her waist, her lips pinched together. “I,” ––she
cleared her throat— “I haven’t completely forgiven you for
forgetting my eighteenth birthday.” Her gaze focused on the table.
She rubbed off a water spot with her thumb, sucked in a shaky
breath, and dragged her eyes to his. “I forgive you,
Sean.”

Her eyes dropped to the tips of her
Converses, and he watched her pull herself together. He wished for
the hundredth time he’d had a clue about her birthday.

“
Happy Valentine’s Day.”
She met his eyes, looped her hands around his neck, and singed a
kiss on his cheek.

His arms wrapped around her without
his permission. He breathed in heaven. He held on too long and too
close. Her parents should really take their duties more seriously.
Her damn list floated through his mind, and he broke out of her
hold.

Missy bent over her chair and tapped
keys on her computer. “Maybe we can get your family on
Skype.”

“
Whoa. Who said I’m ready
to do this tonight?”

Missy looked up. “You just told me you
needed to forgive them.”

“
Let me get used to the
idea, would you?” But he’d been moving in this direction ever since
Missy brought it up the night he found her sitting on Cal’s dock
box seven months ago.

She didn’t look up. “You’ve needed to
rip this band aid off for seven years. Suck it up, Sean. I did it.
You can do it, too.”

She was right, but chances were slim
his family would be signed into Skype on Valentine’s.

Missy’s list of contacts popped onto
the screen. A green check mark highlighted Chas Fisher.

Excellent, evidently. Desire and dread
dovetailed in his chest.

Missy clicked on Chas’ name and his
brother’s picture appeared. She moved the mouse to video
call.

“
You’re not railroading me
into this.”

Missy straightened. “Look, it’s
time.”

“
But this is
huge—”

“
Oh, and what you did to
me was nothing?”

“
I didn’t say that,” he
hedged.

Missy’s brows hiked a quarter of an
inch.

He sighed. “Okay, you win.”

Seconds later Chas beamed into the
camera. “Missy! Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Fish’s chest constricted. Chas’ voice
had changed since he saw him last. Jealousy sprung to life at Chas’
delight over Missy, drowned out by the joy of seeing his
brother.

“
I have a surprise for
you.” Missy pushed Fish down into her chair in front of the
laptop.

“
Hey, bro,” Fish said
around the thickness in his throat.

“
Sean! No way!” Chas
twisted his head around and yelled over his shoulder, “Mom, Dad,
I’ve got Sean on Skype!”

His parents rushed into the room and
hunched behind Chas. Five years melted in an instant. Tears
trickled down Mom’s face, and he felt the wetness in his own
eyes.

As they chatted, his heartbeat slowed
to normal. Missy sank into the chair beside him.

Chelsea was out with Luís Angel, Dad
said.

Mom sent Chas to find
Susanna.

Missy kicked Fish under the table and
mouthed,
now
.

She was right. He didn’t want to spit
all this out in front of his siblings. He sucked in a breath for
courage. “I… I need to clear the air.” He coughed. “When you guys
moved to Peru, I was angry for a long time. Probably still
mad.”

Mom started to say something, but he
cut her off. “Let me get this out. One day I was living at home
with my family, looking forward to my senior year. The next, I was
alone—with the Koomers, but it wasn’t the same. Then I was in a
sh—crappy apartment, putting myself through college working nights
at a convenience store.”

Dad said, “We tried to help you, but
you refused to let us pay for anything.”

Mom wiped more tears away. “We
wondered if we made a mistake when you all but cut us off. We
almost came home for good when we visited five years
ago.”

Something in his gut told him their
coming home would have been a mistake.