The Descendants Page 12

  His words cause a widespread shiver to creep up my spine and into my throat. That means Erebus was also there recently. I hate that such a beautiful city was tainted with the worst being on Earth. I try to ignore that little fact as I respond. “The history is so alive, like it lives and breathes through its own art. Every time I turned a corner I wanted to stop and take a picture, even if it was just a park bench or a lamppost.” I could go on for days.

  “I didn’t get to see much when I was there. But I thought of you.” This time he swivels his head to meet my gaze, just for a second, probably assessing my reaction. Then he turns back to the road, leaving the ball in my court.

  I swallow the lump of nerves that made its way up my throat at the end of his last sentence. He did think of me when he was away. I hope he thought of me often.

  He doesn’t say another word until we arrive at our destination, and neither do I. I’m too consumed with questions. Questions I’m too afraid to ask. We pull up to a beachfront restaurant, and I hop out of the car just as Johnny arrives to open it for me. Oops. Maybe I should have waited.

  He gives me a rare smile and takes my hand. I don’t pull away. That would just be rude, right? Besides, it’s not every day an electrical current runs between two palms. I wouldn’t dare disturb the natural effects of our connection.

  I let him lead me to the hostess stand, and we’re escorted to the back patio of the restaurant where the gulf meets the shore. The lights from the restaurant reflect a twinkling pattern across the water. Live acoustic cover music plays on the opposite side of the patio, attempting to fill me with calm, to drown my nerves with Jack Johnson’s words. Sitting, waiting, wishing. A song that speaks to my heart. Hopefully Johnny’s listening to the words too.

  I’m not sure if Johnny is trying to impress me or relax me by bringing me here. Neither is working. I’m tense with anxiety about how this conversation will go.

  “Why does this feel like a date?” I meet his gaze from across the table, our profiles facing the gulf. This would make a nice picture.

  He shrugs. “It is a date. I picked you up. I’m paying.” He says it as if it’s no big deal.

  What Johnny doesn’t understand is that it is a big deal. I’ve never been on a date before, not even with Alec. When Alec and I went out, it was always in a group setting, and we never really had a chance to be alone.

  I surprise myself by challenging him. “This is not a date. This is more like a ‘hey, if you happen to be hungry we can grab a bite’ type of occasion.”

  Johnny chuckles. “Noted. So I guess it will just feel like a date.”

  He’s smirking at me! I hate that I want to smirk back. Luckily, I’m able to fight it.

  Our waitress introduces herself and takes our drink orders, offering us two menus and stealing extra long glances in Johnny’s direction. A flush creeps up my neck, feeling slighted by the fact that I have no claim on this beautiful person sitting across from me.

  My thoughts continue to darken as I wonder for the millionth time about Johnny’s time away … and the fact that he could have met someone else. Someone who was offered his secret smile and his strong but gentle touch. The possibilities are endless, and they are slowly killing my confidence.

  “Roy tells me you cut back on hours at the Grille. Because of school?” He peeks up at me from his menu.

  I look up with my eyes without moving my head. His question asks more than he says, and part of me is thrilled. Another part of me feels like he’s cheating. He wants me to confess that this has been hard on me while he just sits there and asks all the questions.

  He’s waiting for a response. I turn my eyes down before speaking. “School, volunteering, hanging with my dad, and Enchanter events consume my time. I didn’t want to quit, so I promised Roy I’d keep some hours.”

  “He really likes you.”

  As sweet as it is to hear how much Roy likes me, his comment causes a heavy sigh to leak from my mouth. I sit back and look at him. He shifts uncomfortably under my gaze, so I look away. I don’t understand how to sort through my feelings of resentment. It’s intense.

  “So my dad gave you a job at the plant?” I try for a change of subject, sneakily hoping he’ll divulge his long-term plans.

  Johnny is eagerly filling me in on his new position as assistant operations manager. He’ll work strange shifts, though, at different hours every day. My dad seems to have affected him in a way that surprises me. He speaks of Paul with great respect and excitement, making me fall even harder for him.

  Our conversation feels so natural as I fill him in on the past year and a half of school and how wonderful my friends were to help me through those first few awkward days. He’s not surprised to learn I have a strong interest in my science classes and am eager to continue my physics studies. That was one of Johnny’s favorite subjects in school, too. He once thought he would become an astronomer and study celestial objects for the rest of his life. Apparently, besides deep sea diving, stargazing was his favorite pastime with his father.

  It all makes sense. Everything I learn about Johnny adds up to exactly what he is and what he’s meant to be. A strong but quiet, outdoorsy intellectual. It’s such a mesmerizing combination.

  I’m so caught up in our conversation, I almost forget that we haven’t even glazed over our issues. I hope that’s why he brought me here tonight, but I’m starting to understand he isn’t one to confront his problems head on. As natural as it is to be here with him, I’m not sure I can just forget. He’s got to meet me halfway. Does he want us to begin where we left off? Does he think it’s that easy? Or perhaps he just wants to be friends.

  Oh, please don’t just want to be friends.

  By the time our bill comes we’ve discussed everything from our current literary favorites to the latest Geminid meteor shower. I don’t tell him I watched the cosmic event from Alec’s balcony. And I definitely don’t tell him that the entire night I wondered if he was watching that same meteor shower somewhere from sea.

  We avoid the topic of Erebus and anything that has to do with him. Part of me is grateful for this diversion. It’s nice to spend a night in peace without exhausting my energy on thoughts of evil. Just the fact that Johnny has the power to take my mind off Erebus should tell me something.

  Nothing compares to the disappointment I feel when he slides the bill folder to the edge of the table and stands. He reaches for my hand, and I hesitate before taking it and rising, careful to avoid his eyes for fear he’ll see the moisture forming. The crushing weight of this simple gesture does this to me because we’re leaving before we’ve discussed anything serious.

  Suddenly, the balloon of hope I once had deflates to an empty, rubbery mess, and I consider tossing it into the nearest bin. Then, just like that, Johnny grips my hand tightly and steers me toward the beach. We’re not leaving. My hope balloon inflates slightly, just enough to tell me to hold onto it a little longer.

  “Why are we here, Johnny?” My question is enough. This he can’t avoid with a passive response.

  He doesn’t speak until we’re close to the shore, the sound of the music playing at the restaurant fading into the distance. He stiffens his hold on my hand and swivels me around to face him. “I have no right to be here with you now. What I did—” His voice cracks, and for the first time since he’s been back, I realize something. I’m not the only one who needs to forgive Johnny. Johnny needs to forgive Johnny.

  “It was selfish. You were right. That night we said goodbye, you said things to me that I’m not sure I even heard at first. Then suddenly, it was like those words were haunting me every single day. I wanted to come back to you, but by the time I realized it, it was too late. My mission was no longer vengeful. When I saw Erebus take his first body, I knew I couldn’t just walk away. My new goal was to study him, to learn enough about him to finally get ahead of his game. I knew he’d return to Apollo Beach eventually; I just didn’t think it would take him a year and half.”

  My han
ds find comfort on the spot between Johnny’s swelled chest and his firm stomach. I’m still unable to look him in the eyes, but I hear him, and I love all the words coming from his mouth. One of my fears for Johnny was that he’d never be able to overcome his need for revenge. And maybe that would always be a part of him while Erebus continued to exist, but it couldn’t consume him anymore because it would leave room for nothing else.

  “I brought you here because I want to start creating new memories with you, Kat. Ones that don’t involve Erebus, ones that don’t involve me leaving you. Memories that only belong to us.”

  Oh. I think all the air in my body whooshes from me when he’s done speaking. Am I capable of producing words after that? No, I’m not. Not yet.

  “I want to see you.” The same words he spoke at the Arctic Ball. He wants me to look into his eyes. He must know the power of his eyes, that to look up is all it will take for me to lose myself in his everything. He’s cheating again.

  Instead of meeting his gaze, I pull myself in closer, replacing my palms with my cheek, resting it against his chest. My arms snake around his waist and hold on for dear life. I’m considering his words, grasping for them as if they are my lifeline. His arms are around me next, his chin relaxing on top of my head. He gives me the time I need to respond.

  Moments later, I pull my head away to look up at him. He stares down at me eagerly, ready to devour my words. I concentrate on his lips. As desirable as they are, they’re safer than his eyes. I have to ask the one question that holds me back. “How can I trust you won’t hurt me again?”

  Johnny’s face contorts, the pain of my words evident on his face. Now I can see his pain has more to do with him than it does with me.

  When he doesn’t respond, I decide not to push him. If he needs time, I’ll give him time.

  He’s worth the wait.

  Our night wasn’t entirely bad. In fact, it was the nicest night I’ve had in a long time. He wasn’t able to promise much—well, anything at all—but his confessions give me hope.

  Hope is enough for now.

  Chapter Eleven

  Something is up with my father. I can tell he’s in a strange mood as soon as he picks me up from Summer Estate. It’s late afternoon, and the air is chillier than normal, so I run back inside to slide on a light gray, oversized knit sweater. When I hop back into the passenger seat, Paul has a giddy smile plastered on his face.

  “What is going on with you?” I laugh.

  He shakes his head, turning out of the driveway. “I’m just excited for our day together. We haven’t taken the boat out in a while.”

  I’m definitely suspicious. Enchanters don’t lie well. It’s not in our nature to lie. Like Rose, if we have secrets to keep, we just avoid the subject entirely. Paul can’t avoid the subject, so he’s forced to lie, and he doesn’t do it well.

  The air is chilly, and water sprays up on me like refreshing doses of reality, forcing my head out of its negative space and into the here and now. Erebus haunts my thoughts more and more as the days go on. Like an hourglass emptying into itself, my time is running out. I feel it. His presence is so near that the walls of my mind are closing in.

  A cruise around Apollo Beach is exactly what I need. An escape. We’re out in the middle of the Gulf for well over an hour, just circling around, creating waves for jet skiers that pass. At some point, my dad steers us toward land, but he aims for Summer Island rather than the marina. We cruise around to a section of the island where a small patch of greenery grows. I’ve always just assumed it was home to another mangrove swamp. To my surprise, he pulls the boat up to a small rickety dock that looks like it was made in a hurry.

  “Don’t worry; it’s safe. I made it myself,” he says as he helps me from the boat to the dock. I look around, more confused than ever.

  As I’m hopping from the dock, I almost expect to step into a swamp, but the ground is solid. And now my dad leads me through overgrown weeds. Not exactly how I thought this day was going to go.

  “Where are we going?” I’m still looking around as we pass through a section of weeds and into woods, filled with the biggest oak trees I’ve ever seen.

  We stop a short while later, and I turn to him, watching his expression as he stares up, grinning from ear to ear. What is going on?

  My heart expands as I turn to share his view. One of the oak trees dominates the others, almost resembling the size of a small house. Its branches span out in every which direction, some of them almost touching the soil below. But that’s not the only thing that makes it a remarkable sight; it’s the only oak tree around with its leaves still intact.

  I imagine it must be hundreds of years old, but I’m not sure how that’s possible since the Island was only created a dozen years ago. Unlike most old trees, this one remains untouched by carved names, hearts, and plus signs.

  My awe of the tree is replaced by surprise as something truly magical happens. Paul winks at me before raising his arms, like a conductor before his last dramatic piece of the night. His energy creates a glowing white light that shoots from his fingertips, through the air, into, and around the tree. As the branches rustle, the leaves descent around us like rain, falling in slow motion. A spiral staircase forms from the branches that now wrap snugly around the tree.

  My eyes move up the spiral staircase to its end point and stop halfway up the tree, where I make out a flat platform tucked perfectly between the heaviest branches.

  There are tears spilling onto my cheeks before I can stop them. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. “You built a treehouse for me.” I’m breathless at the sight.

  Paul wraps an arm around my shoulders and ushers me to the staircase. “My only regret is that I couldn’t give this to you sooner. I was serious when I said you would have your treehouse.” He smiles, and I’m not sure he understands what this grand gesture just did to my heart. “Come up and check it out.”

  “How did you do this in two days?” I’m still stunned, staring up into the thick of the branches.

  He doesn’t answer. He just nudges me up the wooden staircase, eager for me to explore his creation. A balcony wraps around the entire house, and the main entrance greets us directly at the top of the stairs.

  Oh my. I didn’t realize a treehouse could be so … spacious. My eyes sweep the area, giving it a quick once-over. It has all the basic luxuries of a home. A small kitchen contains a simple sink and mini refrigerator. There’s even a washroom enclosed by a long, white curtain. The other side of the room holds a plush bench under a bay window, and I’m already aching to read in that exact spot. Apparently my father knew I would want to do this because two large shelves sit on either side of the window, every inch filled with books.

  Paul drags me through the main room and through a large, rounded opening into another room. I gasp. What appears to be an antique telescope is propped up on a brass stand in the center of the room, pointing straight up at the sky. The entire ceiling of the room is made of glass, and tree towers above us, its leaves pressing against it.

  “This area is perfect for stargazing,” Paul says. With a lift of his hand, he swipes the air in front of him, pulling the tree branches along with it. He laughs, and I’m breathless as I imagine the sights that can be seen at night from this spot.

  I immediately think of Johnny and his passion for astronomy, but I don’t let my thoughts stray far. There’s too much else to take in.

  “I can’t believe you did this.” My eyes are wide as I observe him. A year and a half ago I didn’t think I’d ever have a father, and today, he’s giving me a fairytale treehouse.

  I embrace him warmly, liking that we’ve become comfortable enough for this to be okay. When I pull away, his cheeks have turned a light shade of pink. “I did have some help, but I wanted to do this for you. Obviously you aren’t nine anymore, but I’m hoping you find comfort here the way you did when you were little. For a seventeen-year-old you have far too much responsibility, and you deserve a
getaway when you need it. I figured this could be it. The best part is that since it’s on Summer Island, it’s protected. You can come here any time … as long as you let me know you’re here.”

  When he looks down at me with narrowed, fatherly eyes, I smile.

  We reenter the main room of the treehouse, and I’m looking at more than just the structure and appliances. Things seem familiar, and I realize why now. The furniture, the books, the decorations—they’re all from my mom’s storage shed.

  The realization causes tiny shudders to radiate through my body. I couldn’t have come up with a better solution. It’s like he’s created a haven for me to spend time while surrounding myself with my mother’s memory. It’s the most beautiful gesture of all, even more so than the treehouse itself.

  He walks me to the small bookshelf on the other side of the room which he then peruses. I throw myself into the oversized beanbag chair and listen to him read excerpts of Early Greek Astronomy and the Mythology of the Night Sky. One by one, he takes out a book and explain his own fascination with it. It’s at this point in our knowing each other that I realize where I get my love for Summer library.

  He then shows me an antique trunk he found in his old room at Summer Estate. As a teenager, my father would keep random knick-knacks in it, and now he’s giving it to me. He opens it to reveal a stack of envelopes and notebooks. Immediately, I recognize my mother’s journals, which I haven’t thought of since last seeing them in North Carolina. Now, I ache to read them.

  In my final examination of the room, I notice a tall, two-cubicle-wide shelf filled with storage containers, Greek trinkets, and photographs. There’s an old brushed metal frame that holds a photo of my mom and dad I’ve never seen before. My mom has a large, protruding stomach, one hand placed over it—protecting me. My father stands with his arm around her. Both of them look radiant with beaming smiles and glowing eyes as they pose for the photo. They look happily in love, like they’re about to spend their lives raising a family and cherishing each other … until death do them part. Except they never had that chance.