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MERCY
My heart is pounding loudly in my ears, but I force myself to listen past the noise for the sounds I’m desperate to hear. The snap of metal. The fizz of air touching the previously trapped liquid inside. The thud of footprints as his boots follow me across the dirt floor of the barn.
But all that follows me...is silence. And with it, the freefall of tears I have no hope of stopping.
Outside the night explodes in sound around me. Crickets chirping. Frogs. An ungodly amount of frogs after the rain we’ve seen here. The wind rustles the leaves on some nearby trees, and, somewhere in the distance, I can hear the coyotes howling as if to check in with one another after all the turmoil.
It’s a welcome change from the mess of thoughts screaming inside my head, and I allow mother nature’s midnight chatters to sweep me up in her music and bring me peace even if I know this heartbreak will start all over again come morning, when everything has time to settle, and Frank’s acceptance of our end becomes real. Then I’ll have to accept it too.
The walk back to the B and B is much like it was coming out here tonight, except now the feelings of hope urging me on have gone and been replaced with a sadness so deep that my heart continues to weep in my chest as the tears continue to trickle their way down from my eyes and over my face.
Even after all these years, the path is still well-worn and easy to walk, especially under the light of the moon, and there’s a feeling of nostalgia as I pass each familiar marker along the way. The assembly of rocks we used to sit and play on as children. The small wooded area, perfect for hide-and-seek and shade for the animals, but not at all so big or dense that it becomes a place to fear come nightfall. The tiny runoff to the creek you have to skip over to keep your feet from getting soaked. All gems of my childhood, still sitting here like hidden treasures no one else knows the map to.
Except him.
Because this is our path. The one we forged when being apart first became unbearable. When the need to see each other grew urgent enough, we were sneaking back and forth between both homes at all hours of the day and night. Until the path accepted it. Embraced it. Even if Frank and I still can’t seem to manage that.
The B and B is silent when I return and I do my best to keep it that way, holding my breath to keep in the sobs and sniffles as I tiptoe back to my room. I brush my teeth and slip into the T-shirt among the clothes Kirsten gave me to wear until I have more of my own, and crawl into bed. So far, I’m having mixed feelings about staying. No, that’s not true. Staying feels like the best decision I’ve made, maybe in my entire life. It’s so right and so natural, I haven’t even told my mother yet, because on some level, I think she already knows.
And this room, it’s like Grandma Nettie’s here tonight. Quietly whispering words of comfort to ease me to sleep and for now, to help me forget all about Frank and the crushing reality of his rejection.
Come morning, my room is the opposite of the peaceful quiet I so appreciated the night before. Instead, there’s an excess of estrogen huddled on my bed, all staring me down as I’m blinking my eyes and waking up.
“What on Earth?” To say it’s a startling sight to wake up to is putting it mildly. “Why are you all in my bed?” I sit up faster than I would have liked, and certainly more quickly than my pounding head would have preferred, but I’m motivated to at least seem more alert as I take in their faces.
Esther, Camden, and MaryBeth are all here. In my bedroom. With pastries. And coffee. And something inside a pink mystery box Camden is holding.
“Is Frank’s head inside there?” I ask dryly.
“No, that part of him is useless,” she says snidely. “It’s his heart.” Then she pushes the box straight at me. “I’m kidding, you sicko. It’s a care package filled with all the basic hygiene products you’ve been doing without.” Her nose scrunches up. “For too long.”
“I’m so glad this is what I get to wake up to.” I smile my most saccharine smile and take the box from her.
“No,” MaryBeth chimes in, “you’re glad you got to wake up to these.” She waves her tray of pastries in a small circle between us, either displaying them or taunting us with them. Time will tell, depending upon how soon she lets us actually eat them.
“Um,” Esther cuts in, “don’t kid yourself. Right now, I’m the only one she’s genuinely happy to see.” She takes my free hand and places the handle of a coffee cup in it.
“She’s not wrong,” I tell the others, lifting the cup to smell the divine aroma coming from it, savoring the moment before the sip.
“Come on,” MaryBeth insists, brow scrunched up and showing her dissatisfaction. “She’s related to the nincompoop we’re all here to cheer you up from. Coffee can’t negate all of that.”
Esther turns to her, face agape in mock shock.
Camden just shakes her head in a delicate fashion, flatlined smile on her pretty face. “It’s Mercy Rose. I’m sure her standards for happiness don’t reach that high. Coffee seems a completely believable exchange for dignity and self-respect here.”
“Wow.” Esther’s fake shock turns to dry disappointment. “At least my connection to the dumbass isn’t by choice. What’s your excuse for being besties with him?”
Camden’s response is to take the tray of pastries from MaryBeth and shove them straight at me until my nose is nearly touching the marmalade coming out of one of the donuts. “Sugar?” she chirps.
“Don’t mind if I do.” I take some twisty, glazed bit of deliciousness and then use the side of my palm to gently push the tray away from my face again. I take a big bite. I don’t wait to swallow before I start talking, because, well, I feel like we’re past the formalities of basic manners at this point. “So how much do you guys know?”
“About your humiliation in the barn last night?” Camden asks. “Not much.”
I turn to Esther, undoubtedly the source of this breach in trust, and silently convey my disappointment to her before verbalizing it in the most sarcastic way possible. “Thanks for getting the word out so quickly. And to all the right people.”
“I’m sorry.” She shrugs. “I don’t have a lot of girlfriends and I didn’t think you’d want Wade here holding the pastries.”
“Fair point.” I jam the rest of said pastry into my mouth and gulp some coffee to wash it down. “Go on, then. I assume you’re here to make me feel better. Make me feel better.”
And they try. Even Camden makes a genuine effort to come up with ways I can distract myself and focus on the silver lining. A new business to run. Reconnecting with my roots. Some guy named Lindsay, but who everyone calls Bubbah she thinks I might like.
So, I try too. I smile. And I do my best to shake off the nagging knowledge that Frank is leaving town as we speak, preparing to build a life somewhere else, far from Lacey. And me.
But it’s hard.
Maybe impossible.
––––––––
FRANK
“Wasn’t sure you’d show up,” I mutter, loading the last of my bags into the backseat of my truck when I spot Wade walking toward me.
“I can call you stupid all I like, doesn’t mean I don’t still love you like a brother or that I won’t miss you when you’re gone.” He comes to a stop a few feet from the truck, hands tucked into his pockets, probably because this is a hugging situation and hugging each other isn’t the sort of thing we ever get much practice in.
“You always know just what to say,” I joke. “I think maybe I’m starting to understand what my sister sees in you.”
“Whatever. You know I love her better than anyone else ever could.” And there’s no hint of humor to be found in his statement. Not that there should be. He’s right.
“I do know that. It’s why I can leave here and not worry about her.”
He nods, gaze drifting sideways toward The Rose. “I’ll look out for Mercy too. Not that you’re wondering or care, or hell, that she needs it, but I will. Because I know you love her despite what you say or do to try and prove otherwise.”
“Doesn’t really matter what I do or don’t feel for her.” I slam the door to the backseat shut and lean back against it, arms crossing over my chest as I settle in to have this one last conversation about her. “I screwed it up. And not like you think, because she knows now. About all the past stuff, she knows.”
His eyes narrow until they’re tiny slants. “What else could you possibly have screwed up worse than that?”
“She came to see me last night.”
He nods. “Yeah. Already heard about that.”
Right, Esther. I forget how much they talk. About everything. Maybe I just forgot what that’s like. To have someone you want to tell everything to.
“Well, we laid it all out. Every last little truth was put on the table. And when it was done, she gave me a big speech about giving me back our first kiss, like she wanted to undo everything that ever happened between us.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I just told you. That was her reaction to seeing up close and personal just how badly we screwed each other up.”
His jaw twitches and he shakes his head, eyes still narrow with suspicion. “Nah, I don’t think that’s why.”
“Fine.” That was my reason. My reason for accepting her gesture and surrendering to what it meant. “She said she didn’t want our first kiss because it wasn’t going to come with a last.”
Wade’s eyes grow wide, a stark contrast from the tiny slits they’ve been so much as of late. “I...I don’t even know what to say to you anymore.”
“Good.” It’s about damn time.
“Is it?” Wade moves in closer until he’s leaning up against the truck as well, standing side by side with me. “You don’t want to be her last kiss?”
“What difference does it make?” I throw my hands up in frustration.
“It makes all the damn difference in the world,” Wade says. “If you don’t want it, fine. Go to Montana. Let her find someone new. But if you do want it, if you do want her, unpack your shit and go tell her!”
It doesn’t feel that simple. Nothing about my life has felt that simple since that weekend I followed her up to New York and realized our paths in life were so vastly different from one another even when they’d started in the same, small place.
I’m on the verge of telling Wade to let it go, when a car pulls up in front of the barn. It’s a silver sedan with out of state plates, and some guy I’ve never seen before gets out.
“Sorry, I think I’m lost,” he says, and I can tell just by looking at him, he’s another city boy, just like Chase.
“You’re looking for The Rose Petal,” I mutter, kicking up from where I’ve been resting against the truck to give him directions. “You’re closer than you think.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” He looks genuinely relieved, and like maybe he’s seen Deliverance one too many times.
“You here for Mercy Rose?” Wade asks, slowly stepping up to join us.
The guy seems surprised to hear her name, even after just mentioning her B and B. “Yeah. She doesn’t know I’m here yet though, so please don’t tell her, I’m kind of looking forward to seeing her reaction when she opens the door and finds me on the other side of it. Booked a red eye right after I got off the phone with her yesterday.”
Unbelievable. How many of us suckers are out there, willing to follow Mercy Rose on a moment’s notice to the ends of the Earth. “You two know each other well, then?” I ask, trying to assess just how likely it is that this will play out well for him.
“Been with her three years. Probably know her better than anyone.” He grins a self-satisfied grin.
“Doubtful,” Wade mutters. “Also, what about Chase?”
The guy shrugs. “What about him?”
That’s about how I’d react to that question too. Maybe this guy really does know her.
Wade steps out past me and starts pointing out toward the B and B. “That’s The Rose Petal right there. You’ll wanna go back to the road, make a right and just keep on going. You almost made it there, just turned off one driveway too soon.” He nods, apparently determining his directions suffice. “Big sign of a rose on their gate. Can’t miss it.”
The guy shakes his hand. “Thanks.” Then he’s back in his car and backing up to get turned around.
“Why did you just do that?” I ask as soon as the guy can no longer hear us.
“Why? You got a problem with some other guy going after your girl, right in front of you, like you don’t even matter?”
I look away. Only my eyes go straight from Wade to The Rose. “Yeah. I guess I do.”
Wade pats my shoulder and smirks. “Better make a run for it, then.” His eyes move past me to the trail connecting our properties from the years of me and Mercy wandering back and forth to see each other. “You hurry, you just might beat him there.”
I lock eyes with him. “Thank you.”
He just pushes me in response. “Go!”
I do. I don’t remember the last time I ran so fast, feet moving with more speed than allows me to mentally keep control of them. The thoughts inside my head race just as fast. What was I thinking letting her walk out last night? What was I thinking letting her leave ten years ago? I haven’t been thinking, that’s been my damn problem all along. I’ve been too damn scared, seeing all the things I find most terrifying. Losing her, never being good enough for her, being the person who keeps her from her family, always being the guy who hurt her. It all stops now. The mess. The complication. The fear.
I clear the last patch of trees just as I see the same silver sedan pulling up to the B and B and I keep scrambling, making my way straight for the back door.
I nearly crash into Kirsten as I come running into the kitchen.
“Whoa!” she calls out, but I don’t have time to explain.
“Sorry!” I yell in passing, moving on for the hall which leads to the stairs. There’s a knock at the front door, but I ignore it and keep moving.
Nettie’s room. That’s gotta be the one she’s staying in.
I count the doors as soon as I reach the landing upstairs. Fourth door on the right. That’s her room.
I rap my knuckles across the wood, even as I’m opening it and walking in. The room is empty. The French doors to the balcony open. I see her standing with her back to me, her arms resting on the railing as she lets the sun dance over her beautiful face.
I start to walk toward her. Then I see it. The undeniable red can sitting on her nightstand. The only proof I need to know that she couldn’t really give up our first kiss any more than I can our last.
I pick it up and pop it open. I take a sip.
MERCY
I saw him running across the field. Heard the back door as it slammed shut. Felt the creak of his boots over the hardwood floors as they moved through my room and out onto the balcony.
His hand reaches for mine and slowly he turns me around to face him.
His fingers move tenderly down my cheek to meet my jaw, tipping my mouth up toward him. His lips sink down on mine and the sweet, icy taste of fruit punch fills my mouth.
It’s like I’m freefalling through time, every memory of my life that holds his face flashing before me, every smile he ever gave me sending a flutter through my core, every “I love you” filling my heart until it overflows, until the past and present finally connect. Until it’s real.
“First and last,” he rasps, his lips still touching mine.
“Finally,” I whisper.
And in an instant, I realize I have everything I’ve always wanted. Lacey. Frank. And every kiss to taste as sweet as the first one.
Kissing Fools
I said, “Kiss me, you fool.” So, he did.
~ My parents