Chapter 2
"Kristina, are you out of your mind?" Brad's voice sounded shrill to her ears.
She clasped his hand more tightly with her own, urging him forward, and trying at the same time not laugh.
"I know what you're thinking." Brad managed to speak between clenched teeth, stepping carefully and forcing himself not to look down.
"Really?"
He didn't have to see her face to know.Kristina was practicing her perfected eye roll at this precise moment. "Yes, really," he hissed, as his foot slipped, and he struggled to regain purchase. "You're thinking 'my boyfriend is a wuss.terrified of heights.' You're right, of course," he spoke quickly, his feet hurrying to keep pace with her more confident footing. "Except I choose to think of myself as an intelligent man equipped with common sense and the fear of God. You're the one who's nuts, Kristina. Don't tell me your mom actually LET you do this regularly."
A smile worked on Kristina's lips as she tugged on his hand, steering him to a spot where the roof's slope was more gradual.
And the view was amazing.
"Kristina.oh my God." Brad stammered. Forgetting for the moment his earlier misgivings as his blue eyes followed the line of the trees, the horizon where the sky and the sparkling water seemed one and the same. "This is."
".beautiful," she finished for him. Releasing his hand and clasping her hands across her knees as she took a seat.
Brad joined her a second later, studying her intently out of the corner of his eyes.
Kristina lifted her face, allowing the sun to kiss it, smiling as she murmured, "Mom and I fought over this all the time. I was a bit reckless."
Brad smiled knowingly despite himself.
Kristina WAS a daredevil, willing to take risks, choosing her OWN path and sticking to it no matter how trying.
"What are you smiling about?" she teased. "As I was saying." she continued, "I think she thought.I don't know what she thought," she sighed. "We disagreed on almost EVERYTHING. Daydreaming on the roof was the least of it," her voice softened in memory. "But sometimes.sometimes I'd find her out here. Alone. Gazing up at the stars on nights where they twinkled and sparkled like diamonds. I'd watch her for the few seconds it took for her to realize I was there, in the shadows. Tears sparkled like silver against her cheeks, her lips moved noiselessly wishing on every star.she looked so sad I wanted to hug her until the hurt stopped. But the minute.the exact minute she knew I was watching her, the mask would go back on, and she'd offer me a shaky smile, holding her arm out to me. We'd hold each other in silence, and I'd listen to her heart beat, and we just WERE.you know," her voice wavered just a bit as she looked to him with shiny brown eyes. "Those times.I felt so close to her, but still so far away. Then Dad would call out. He always seemed a little worried we'd disappear or something.Dad would call out, and she'd kiss my forehead, give my hand a squeeze, and she'd be gone. And every time.I was left wondering if it were real or just my imagination. Was it real, Brad? Did I KNOW? Did I feel close to her, like a child should? Or was it just another dream?"
"I think reality is just dreams realized. The dreams are not always the good kind. Some of them are more like nightmares. But yeah," he told her as his finger hooked around a flyaway strand of golden hair and tucked it behind her ear. "I think it was always real, Kristina. You just didn't want to see it because of the way you felt about her and your father's relationship."
Kristina shook her head at him with a crooked grin. "You had me for a while, Buddy, but you lost me at the end. SHE was the one that pushed ME away. Not the other way around. I gave her every opportunity. EVERY opportunity, and she failed. Time and time again."
"Where are you going?" Brad questioned as she stood up slowly, dusting the seat of her denim shorts off, and walking in a direction opposite to the one they had originally came.
"If I were perfectly honest, Brad," her voice had a teasing quality to it as she sidestepped his question. "Your whole explanation was bogus. Where'd you come up with that mumbo-jumbo?"
"Kristina!" his voice rose in panic as his blue eyes shifted to the overgrowth several feet below.
Laughter bubbled from Kristina's lips at his expression as she shimmied down a rail and planted her feet solidly on firm ground.
"What is this?" he grumbled as he landed in an undignified heap at her feet.
"Mom's balcony," she told him matter-of-factly as she offered him a hand.
"You're telling me we could have skipped over most of the nail-biting experience, given my ulcer the afternoon off, and climbed up THERE," he pointed to their original perch. "From here?"
"I told you my mom didn't exactly approve so would it make sense that I'd climb up there from HER balcony? Only if I wanted to get caught. Brad.part of the fun was in the sneaky appeal. The adventure of it all. Geez.I was more man than you at ten-years-old," she muttered, flinging the double French doors leading to her mother's bedroom open and stepping inside.
The room was as they'd left it years and years ago.
The down of the comforter had yellowed with age.
Her broken reflection resembled something that might be seen in a carnival funhouse, and she winced as the jagged edge of the mirror nicked her fingertip. She sucked lightly on the wound, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth, as she lowered herself to the vanity chair, mesmerized with the image before her.
Brad picked up a slim volume of poetry hidden behind the bedframe, blowing the dust from its covers before opening it carefully. A perfect red rose lay tucked within its pages. A single touch of his fingers, and the brittle softness faded to a fine dust. He kept the book in his hands, thinking perhaps it might hold some sentimental value for Kristina regardless of her insistence that her mother and she were never close. He continued to move about the room in silence, his blue eyes taking in everything and nothing. No matter how hard his imagination worked, he couldn't see the room as it had been, but Kristina.
Brown eyes stared back at her. Curious. Reflective. They widened as her own fingers traced the planes and contours of her face. Her mother's face.
Brad watched her, his body backlit by the sun streaming in through the open French doors. His shadow looming across the worn wood of the floor.
Her mother's face. Her eyes, she thought as her hands dropped to her sides. The jewelry box opened easily under the slight pressure from her fingers, and some pretty little tune she couldn't remember the name of tinkled forth. A lump of hurt lodged in her throat as she withdrew the compact from the box's depths. A present to her mother. From her. And her father. Forgotten. Laid aside.
The compact was beautiful. Ornate and extragavant. She'd imagined how pleased her mother would be with such a thoughtfully picked, pretty present all the way home from the secret shopping trip she and Dad had taken. She was sure her mother's eyes would light up in appreciation, and she'd give her the biggest hug and whisper "I love you" to them both, she remembered as the compact opened.
Brad heard her tiny gasp of breath when she opened the compact, but he didn't move to comfort her. He knew she was lost in a memory again and thought it best SHE deal with her past.
Brown eyes somehow turned to blue, and it really was her mother's face staring back at her, a too bright smile on her lips as she snapped the compact shut and whirled around in her seat. A thank you on her lips.
The bedroom was lit in shadows and dancing lights, and her dad never looked more handsome than he did as he gazed back at her mother-her, by some twist of memory and trickery-with such love in his eyes.
She recognized herself through her mother's eyes. Tucked against her father lovingly, watching her with such wondrous expectation in her brown eyes.
She spoke, her voice soft yet excited, "Do you like it, Mom? It was the prettiest one in the entire store. Just like you're the prettiest Mom."
She felt tears stinging her eyes as she raised one hand to her throat, the other safe-guarding the present given with such love. "It's beautiful. Thank you," she murmured. Beckoning her forward. Into her arms.
"Now you can throw your old one away and use this one. It's much better, isn't it, Dad?" her fingers reached blindly for her father's hand.
"If that's what you want," her father's voice rumbled. Deep in his chest.
Her heart ached with the old hurt as she viewed herself through her mother's eyes, her hands unable to stop themselves from reaching for the plain silver compact.
Her father wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a calming manner, and her voice sounded shrill and high to her ears. "You don't like it. You don't like our present. You still like that ugly thing better."
"Kristina."
"No. No! She doesn't like it, Dad. She never likes anything I give her. Anything I do. I hate her. I hate her!" she screamed, shoving his hands away and running out of the room.
The hands holding the compact trembled, and the blue tear-filled, hurting eyes staring back at Kristina slowly turned into brown again.
"Kristina," Brad's quiet voice startled her.
She wiped carelessly at the tears slipping down her cheeks, squared her shoulders, and cleared her throat before speaking in a strong voice, "I'm okay, Brad. I'm fine," she assured him with a pat of his cheek. "A little bit hungry, but okay. It's your job to feed me. Being the boyfriend and all."
Brad's lips quirked upward into a relieved smile. "I think I saw a couple of places back in town."
"Great," she beamed at him. "Just let me fix my face and make myself presentable, and we're out of here."
"Are you sure you'll be okay?"
The salt of her tears lingered on her lips as they caressed his. "I'll be fine. Nothing but memories, and memories can't hurt you."
I don't know about that, Brad thought as he glanced at her once more before walking out of the bedroom. "Don't be long."
"I won't," Kristina promised as she tucked the compact away in her shorts pocket.
Her broken image looked back at her knowingly as she rubbed the remainder of her tears away with her fists, her brown eyes hiding nothing.
The eyes don't lie, she thought as she scooted down the stairs after Brad.
Mom's never had.
"Kristina, are you out of your mind?" Brad's voice sounded shrill to her ears.
She clasped his hand more tightly with her own, urging him forward, and trying at the same time not laugh.
"I know what you're thinking." Brad managed to speak between clenched teeth, stepping carefully and forcing himself not to look down.
"Really?"
He didn't have to see her face to know.Kristina was practicing her perfected eye roll at this precise moment. "Yes, really," he hissed, as his foot slipped, and he struggled to regain purchase. "You're thinking 'my boyfriend is a wuss.terrified of heights.' You're right, of course," he spoke quickly, his feet hurrying to keep pace with her more confident footing. "Except I choose to think of myself as an intelligent man equipped with common sense and the fear of God. You're the one who's nuts, Kristina. Don't tell me your mom actually LET you do this regularly."
A smile worked on Kristina's lips as she tugged on his hand, steering him to a spot where the roof's slope was more gradual.
And the view was amazing.
"Kristina.oh my God." Brad stammered. Forgetting for the moment his earlier misgivings as his blue eyes followed the line of the trees, the horizon where the sky and the sparkling water seemed one and the same. "This is."
".beautiful," she finished for him. Releasing his hand and clasping her hands across her knees as she took a seat.
Brad joined her a second later, studying her intently out of the corner of his eyes.
Kristina lifted her face, allowing the sun to kiss it, smiling as she murmured, "Mom and I fought over this all the time. I was a bit reckless."
Brad smiled knowingly despite himself.
Kristina WAS a daredevil, willing to take risks, choosing her OWN path and sticking to it no matter how trying.
"What are you smiling about?" she teased. "As I was saying." she continued, "I think she thought.I don't know what she thought," she sighed. "We disagreed on almost EVERYTHING. Daydreaming on the roof was the least of it," her voice softened in memory. "But sometimes.sometimes I'd find her out here. Alone. Gazing up at the stars on nights where they twinkled and sparkled like diamonds. I'd watch her for the few seconds it took for her to realize I was there, in the shadows. Tears sparkled like silver against her cheeks, her lips moved noiselessly wishing on every star.she looked so sad I wanted to hug her until the hurt stopped. But the minute.the exact minute she knew I was watching her, the mask would go back on, and she'd offer me a shaky smile, holding her arm out to me. We'd hold each other in silence, and I'd listen to her heart beat, and we just WERE.you know," her voice wavered just a bit as she looked to him with shiny brown eyes. "Those times.I felt so close to her, but still so far away. Then Dad would call out. He always seemed a little worried we'd disappear or something.Dad would call out, and she'd kiss my forehead, give my hand a squeeze, and she'd be gone. And every time.I was left wondering if it were real or just my imagination. Was it real, Brad? Did I KNOW? Did I feel close to her, like a child should? Or was it just another dream?"
"I think reality is just dreams realized. The dreams are not always the good kind. Some of them are more like nightmares. But yeah," he told her as his finger hooked around a flyaway strand of golden hair and tucked it behind her ear. "I think it was always real, Kristina. You just didn't want to see it because of the way you felt about her and your father's relationship."
Kristina shook her head at him with a crooked grin. "You had me for a while, Buddy, but you lost me at the end. SHE was the one that pushed ME away. Not the other way around. I gave her every opportunity. EVERY opportunity, and she failed. Time and time again."
"Where are you going?" Brad questioned as she stood up slowly, dusting the seat of her denim shorts off, and walking in a direction opposite to the one they had originally came.
"If I were perfectly honest, Brad," her voice had a teasing quality to it as she sidestepped his question. "Your whole explanation was bogus. Where'd you come up with that mumbo-jumbo?"
"Kristina!" his voice rose in panic as his blue eyes shifted to the overgrowth several feet below.
Laughter bubbled from Kristina's lips at his expression as she shimmied down a rail and planted her feet solidly on firm ground.
"What is this?" he grumbled as he landed in an undignified heap at her feet.
"Mom's balcony," she told him matter-of-factly as she offered him a hand.
"You're telling me we could have skipped over most of the nail-biting experience, given my ulcer the afternoon off, and climbed up THERE," he pointed to their original perch. "From here?"
"I told you my mom didn't exactly approve so would it make sense that I'd climb up there from HER balcony? Only if I wanted to get caught. Brad.part of the fun was in the sneaky appeal. The adventure of it all. Geez.I was more man than you at ten-years-old," she muttered, flinging the double French doors leading to her mother's bedroom open and stepping inside.
The room was as they'd left it years and years ago.
The down of the comforter had yellowed with age.
Her broken reflection resembled something that might be seen in a carnival funhouse, and she winced as the jagged edge of the mirror nicked her fingertip. She sucked lightly on the wound, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth, as she lowered herself to the vanity chair, mesmerized with the image before her.
Brad picked up a slim volume of poetry hidden behind the bedframe, blowing the dust from its covers before opening it carefully. A perfect red rose lay tucked within its pages. A single touch of his fingers, and the brittle softness faded to a fine dust. He kept the book in his hands, thinking perhaps it might hold some sentimental value for Kristina regardless of her insistence that her mother and she were never close. He continued to move about the room in silence, his blue eyes taking in everything and nothing. No matter how hard his imagination worked, he couldn't see the room as it had been, but Kristina.
Brown eyes stared back at her. Curious. Reflective. They widened as her own fingers traced the planes and contours of her face. Her mother's face.
Brad watched her, his body backlit by the sun streaming in through the open French doors. His shadow looming across the worn wood of the floor.
Her mother's face. Her eyes, she thought as her hands dropped to her sides. The jewelry box opened easily under the slight pressure from her fingers, and some pretty little tune she couldn't remember the name of tinkled forth. A lump of hurt lodged in her throat as she withdrew the compact from the box's depths. A present to her mother. From her. And her father. Forgotten. Laid aside.
The compact was beautiful. Ornate and extragavant. She'd imagined how pleased her mother would be with such a thoughtfully picked, pretty present all the way home from the secret shopping trip she and Dad had taken. She was sure her mother's eyes would light up in appreciation, and she'd give her the biggest hug and whisper "I love you" to them both, she remembered as the compact opened.
Brad heard her tiny gasp of breath when she opened the compact, but he didn't move to comfort her. He knew she was lost in a memory again and thought it best SHE deal with her past.
Brown eyes somehow turned to blue, and it really was her mother's face staring back at her, a too bright smile on her lips as she snapped the compact shut and whirled around in her seat. A thank you on her lips.
The bedroom was lit in shadows and dancing lights, and her dad never looked more handsome than he did as he gazed back at her mother-her, by some twist of memory and trickery-with such love in his eyes.
She recognized herself through her mother's eyes. Tucked against her father lovingly, watching her with such wondrous expectation in her brown eyes.
She spoke, her voice soft yet excited, "Do you like it, Mom? It was the prettiest one in the entire store. Just like you're the prettiest Mom."
She felt tears stinging her eyes as she raised one hand to her throat, the other safe-guarding the present given with such love. "It's beautiful. Thank you," she murmured. Beckoning her forward. Into her arms.
"Now you can throw your old one away and use this one. It's much better, isn't it, Dad?" her fingers reached blindly for her father's hand.
"If that's what you want," her father's voice rumbled. Deep in his chest.
Her heart ached with the old hurt as she viewed herself through her mother's eyes, her hands unable to stop themselves from reaching for the plain silver compact.
Her father wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a calming manner, and her voice sounded shrill and high to her ears. "You don't like it. You don't like our present. You still like that ugly thing better."
"Kristina."
"No. No! She doesn't like it, Dad. She never likes anything I give her. Anything I do. I hate her. I hate her!" she screamed, shoving his hands away and running out of the room.
The hands holding the compact trembled, and the blue tear-filled, hurting eyes staring back at Kristina slowly turned into brown again.
"Kristina," Brad's quiet voice startled her.
She wiped carelessly at the tears slipping down her cheeks, squared her shoulders, and cleared her throat before speaking in a strong voice, "I'm okay, Brad. I'm fine," she assured him with a pat of his cheek. "A little bit hungry, but okay. It's your job to feed me. Being the boyfriend and all."
Brad's lips quirked upward into a relieved smile. "I think I saw a couple of places back in town."
"Great," she beamed at him. "Just let me fix my face and make myself presentable, and we're out of here."
"Are you sure you'll be okay?"
The salt of her tears lingered on her lips as they caressed his. "I'll be fine. Nothing but memories, and memories can't hurt you."
I don't know about that, Brad thought as he glanced at her once more before walking out of the bedroom. "Don't be long."
"I won't," Kristina promised as she tucked the compact away in her shorts pocket.
Her broken image looked back at her knowingly as she rubbed the remainder of her tears away with her fists, her brown eyes hiding nothing.
The eyes don't lie, she thought as she scooted down the stairs after Brad.
Mom's never had.