Page 11 of Late Nights & Love Lines
She nods, then gasps, and my chest gets itchy.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, moving closer to her.
When she lifts her face to mine, my itchy chest crawls into my throat.
“Nothing.” She smiles. She has a really nice smile. “A ladybug landed on me. That’s good luck.”
She’s staring at her shoulder where the red and black bug crawls, but I just want to make her smile again.
The camp bell rings loudly. It’s time for the next activity, but now her smile stretches all the way to her eyes, and I don't move.
“An angel just got its wings,” she says, standing. “When you hear a bell, that’s how you know. Sometimes there’s a lot of angels.” Her hands protect the ladybug on her shoulder as she walks away from me.
“Hey,” I call after her. “What’s your name?”
She doesn’t hear me because she’s talking to the ladybug, but she waves at me distractedly.
“Bye, Peach,” I call after her.
“Her name is Rowan,” Pappy says, scaring me so much I almost fall into the lake.
“Peach,” I repeat, and he chuckles. “I’m going to marry that girl someday.”
But she’s not that little girl anymore. She’s fucking hot and seems to have an instant connection with my daughter who is quickly slipping through my fingers.
Jesus Christ.
She’s my nanny.
I’m going to kill my grandfather.
There’s a snap at the front of the building, followed by a screen door screeching open, then slamming shut. I catch a glimpse of Seren’s raven hair as she rounds the corner. I should go after her. I should check in. I should do something other than peer through the open window again.
Rowan stands perfectly still, her fingers resting on the closed fallboard, but she stares straight ahead as if caught in a memory. Leaning on the window frame, I wait, hoping she’ll play again. When she doesn’t, I announce myself.
“You still play beautifully.”
She flinches, removes her hands, and slowly turns my way. When we make eye contact, she’s wearing a receptionist’s smile—it’s not real.
“I don’t, actually. I haven’t played in years.”
Suddenly I’m haunted by the memory of the last time I saw her.
She’d been having a panic attack on stage, so I joined her. I sat on the bench next to her and told her I’d flip her music for her. I had no idea she played everything from memory. As soonas she started her performance, I was transfixed, as was every other person at camp.
Until her narcissistic stepsister began to screech over Rowan’s performance. Halfway through her song, Rowan was dragged offstage by a man I later found out was her stepfather—a man so consumed by appearances he worried Rowan’s pain and her stepsister’s outbursts would reflect poorly on him.
The stepsister’s face as Rowan was carried off the stage like a ragdoll is something I’ll never forget—it was pure evil, and I’d never felt so hopeless.
Rowan didn’t return to camp after that.
But I know Pappy kept in touch with her. Over the years, he’s given me bits and pieces of her life. Tiny ties that kept up my interest in her, but he never pushed. He’s been a silent pillar for so many of his campers over the years, but Rowan has always been different.
He has an intuition about people that’s uncanny. It’s why I never understood how he ever allowed my mother to get tangled up with my father. Surely Pappy knew he was bad news from the beginning. When I’ve asked him about it though, he only shrugs and says you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make them drink.
I would have made Seren take the freaking drink.
“Are you okay?” Rowan asks. Shit. I’ve been staring at her open-mouthed and unblinking this entire time.
