Starlee's Home (The Wayward Sons 3)

1

Starlee

That night, overlooking the tiny town of Lee Vines, we agree on how to handle the situation. How to handle one another.

And my heart feels stitched together with thread.

Friday passes. Then Saturday. The Christmas tree in the center of town twinkles day and night—the bright sun casting glaring reflections—the nighttime lights providing a warm glow. There’s a noticeable loss in everything I do, an ache. I know I’m not the only one that feels it.

“Have you heard anything from George or Charlie?” Leelee asks, the Sunday after Thanksgiving. The twins have been gone for five days and although my grandmother knows they’ve returned to live with their father, I get the sense she doesn’t know what Sierra said to me, how she blamed their removal on me and then forbid me to see Dexter and Jake. I don’t want to be the one to tell her. What if she agrees? I can’t handle another person I care for being disappointed in me.

“No, I’m hoping they’ll be at school tomorrow,” I say, handing her a cup of coffee. I’ve gotten up early and made coffee and breakfast, creating a reason not to go to the Wayward Sun. I know Sierra doesn’t want me there. The boys? It’s better for all of us if I keep my distance around here.

“Well, I hope everything is okay with them. I miss having them around. I know Sierra and the other boys must, too.”

“I hope they’re okay, too.” My worry about them living with their father again hasn’t decreased since they’d been gone. George historically has had a combative relationship with his dad. Charlie less so, his issues mostly stemmed from defending his twin, but they were doing so well at Sierra’s. It seems like a risk to pull them away now.

“What are your plans for today?” she asks.

“I need to read a book for Lit.”

“Helping Jake?”

“Uh, no, we’re not in the same class.”

“Oh right, well, I’m going down to the holiday market with Tom in about an hour. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. Katie’s working the desk down in the office.”

“Thank you, but I think I need to get on my homework. You two have fun.”

While my relationships have either gone underground or fallen apart, my grandmother is smitten by Tom, the owner of the Epic Café. I don’t begrudge her happiness, it’s pretty adorable.

We finish up breakfast and I stay in my pajamas while Leelee prepares for the drive to June Lake. I hover a little, watching as she searches for her keys and double checks that she’s got her wallet. Every second that passes, I become increasingly desperate for her to leave. Every second I pretend like everything is okay, the more I start to fall apart. When she finally grabs her coat and gloves and walks out the door, I lean against the wall, breathe a sigh of relief, and let the dam break.

Now I can cry in peace.

I’m bundled up in a multicolor afghan, on the couch, and a hundred pages into Hemingway when the phone rings. Leelee made good on her promise and got us matching cell phones, my first, and I jump like a startled cat when it vibrates on the coffee table.

The lodge office number appears on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Katie. Cottage 6 needs new lightbulbs in the bathroom. Can you grab me a box from storage?”

I unwrap the blanket from around my legs. “Yeah, sure.”

Grabbing my coat from the closet by the door, I tug it on and slip on my waterproof boots. After getting caught in the snowstorm, I no longer pretend the weather here isn’t harsh. Not that I’m getting stranded walking from the house to the storage building, but you never know.

It hasn’t snowed again since the big one a week or so before, but unlike at home, it’s cold enough to keep the icy stuff on the ground, especially in shady corners. The peaks of the Sierras are capped in white and even with everything going on, living in such a beautiful place feels like a dream.

I take the small path from the house away from the office and duck past the cluster of trees that obscure the building. I’ve turned the corner when I’m yanked off the path. I yelp, panic building in my chest, and struggle against the arms holding me.

“Shhhh, Starlee, it’s just me.”

Dexter’s voice calms me but not my heart. It pounds like a frantic drum. “Dex, holy crap, never. Ever. Do that again.”

I twist until I’m facing him, but stop fighting. He’s wearing a dark knit cap over his thick black hair and his piercing gray eyes are bright against the white of the snow. He’s grown out the scruff on his chin again and I haven’t seen him since Thursday night. It’s been a long three days.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Well now that I know I’m not being murdered, I’m happy to see you.” I glance around the corner to assure we’re alone. “Sierra must not have seen you go out.”

“Jake is occupying her with some history homework, now that he’s not allowed to see his favorite tutor.” He runs his cold hands under the hair on my neck. I shiver. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. These last few days have really sucked.”

He wets his bottom lip and tilts his head before kissing me gently. I love the way Dexter kisses—the type depending on his mood. Right now, there’s no anger, just a little wistfulness, and he coaxes my lips with his own, drawing me into him. If there were a million reasons why--the snow, his sister, the baggage following us--I’d kiss him all day. But there is all that stuff and it hangs over every moment.

“So is this how it’s going to be from now on?” I ask, pulling away to catch my breath. He may be feeling like slow sweet kisses, but my mouth and body miss him more than I’d like to admit. “Secret meet-ups?”

“It’s not like we were super public before.”

“I know, but I can’t even come in the coffee shop and there’s no way I can ride to school tomorrow. I’ll have to take the bus.”

He leans his head back against the building. “I’m sorry. We’ll get this resolved.”

“How long do you think it will take.”

“My final probation hearing is in early January.”

I sigh. “So, after Christmas.”

“Yeah, but if I’m released, then me, you, and Jake should be fine.”