Thanks everyone for the reviews, as always. I hope you all don't mind but I took a creative license to the Music Festival in this one. I am a firm non-believer in a whole town gathering just to hear one schmuck play violin, so I had to make it more interesting :)
On another note, I'm a bit a cross roads right now; I'm already planning another story and as a result my interest in this one is beginning to dwindle. I plan on wrapping things up neatly though, and even after depending on interest I may leave it open for a sequel. Thoughts?
"You should ask her to dance, you know."
He glanced sideways at Cam, raising his lager to his lips as he did so. Cam's eyes remained fixed on Mikhail as he played, the beer he had been drinking barely half empty. "And which 'her' are you referring to?"
This was a fair question to ask. Mikhail and the Music Festival his violin inspired was a rare attraction for the entire county; there were a fair few faces even he didn't recognize, many of them having made the journey to Bluebell simply for the sake of the music and the amount of alcohol it promised to serve. It wasn't uncommon for the younger generation to meet their future spouse at the yearly event; even then, the possibility of placing bets on coupling or even matchmaking offspring drew in a far amount of older citizens as well.
Cam shrugged, grabbing his glass and swishing the amber liquid with a single flick of his wrist. "You know very well who I'm referring to. Lillian, of course."
He sighed, ignoring the slightly sour taste of the lager as it passed through his lips. "Now what exactly makes you say that?"
"Probably the fact that I'm not stupid." Cam shifted slightly in his seat; every year they hauled out the same uncomfortable chairs and overcrowded tables for this event, surely being used as a last resort to encourage the younger generation to get up and dance. "I know there's something going on between you and her." He smirked slightly at his dumbfounded expression, raising an eyebrow. "I'm your best friend Ash, I can tell. And I get that there may be reasons why you can't tell me exactly what's going on. But I do have my suspicions." He paused to take another sip of his beer. "For example, I know that something happened between you two, and once again you're in the dog house."
He grinned a little guiltily, taking what he supposed was a dignified sip of his drink. Cam wasn't necessarily wrong; although she pretended otherwise, he could tell that Laney's words were bothering Lillian. While she still maintained her usual demeanour around him, and had even pulled him behind a maple tree only a few days previously with the intentions of using her lips to remind him that she was "completely not bothered" with what Laney had said, he still felt that something between them had changed. He often caught her staring off into space with a frown on her face, and they had yet to be as intimate as they had been on the last few days of summer.
He caught Cam smirking at him. "Go on, then." The older boy nodded to where Lillian was sitting, chatting to Eileen and Grady over a large mug of ale. "I bet you have a lot more to talk about with her than with me." Before he could say a word Cam had gotten to his feet, drifting casually over to the bar to where Laney was serving drinks.
He took a moment to gather a bit of courage and was barely on his feet before Cheryl launched herself at him, her small hand reaching up to yank on his wrist. "Ash! Ash! You promised you would dance with me! Remember?" He couldn't recall ever making such a promise, but Cheryl's loud and whiney voice had sent several pairs of eyes in his direction, making his refusal nearly impossible. Trying his best to smile and not look annoyed, he looped his hand through her pigtail, giving it his usual affectionate tug.
"Of course. How could I keep a lady in waiting?" Scooping her up in his arms, he pinched her tiny sides as he tossed her over his shoulder as easily as a bale of hay, her laughter so loud in his ear he couldn't hear Mikhail's violin.
Setting her down carefully, he allowed her to step onto his shoes, her tiny feet barely covering the ends of his big ones. Taking her hands in his, he began to take monstrous steps about the dance floor, her laughter echoing around the town hall banquet room. He glanced up from Cheryl's squealing face only to lock eyes with Lillian; she seemed to have been watching him for a while, Eileen and Grady having continued the conversation without her. She was a little pink about the cheeks, from the alcohol or something else he couldn't quite tell; she smiled at him quickly before averting her gaze, apparently trying to find her place in the conversation once more.
He bent down to Cheryl as the song ended, trying his best to be patient as he gently extracted himself from her. "That was fun, kiddo. But I want to dance with someone else now."
The effect was immediate; Cheryl's smile instantly dropped from her face, her lower lip jutting out as huge tears well in her eyes. "B-but I want to dance with you some more!"
"Maybe we can later, okay? How about again in a couple of songs?"
But there was not fixing it. Cheryl stamped her foot angrily, her cheeks turning their usual blotchy red as she began the start of a tantrum. "No! I want to dance now! You said you would dance with me!"
"I already did Cheryl." He glanced up, watching in horror from across the dance floor as his mother approached Lillian, his little sister wailing making him helpless to stop what about to happen. Cheryl's tiny fist struck his abdomen and winded him slightly just as Jessica opened her mouth to speak, whatever she said to Lillian sending a flood of pink to her cheeks.
Glances were beginning to come their way, Cheryl's screaming beginning to drown out the music. Another tiny fist collided with his side; reeling, he bent down to Cheryl's height. "Cheryl, stop. You know it's not nice to hit."
"I don't care!"
"Uh-oh, looks like someone is over tired." He felt a sudden gush of relief to find his mother standing over him, holding Lillian awkwardly about the elbow beside her. "And no wonder, it's nearly midnight, She should have been in bed hours ago." She bent to grab Cheryl's hand. "Cheryl, say sorry for being selfish and for hitting your brother."
"...Sorry." Cheryl didn't look anything like it, her cheeks still a blotchy red.
Jessica sighed, tugging the 10 year-old to her side. "I think I'd better take her home, Ash. Try not to stay out too late, I'm going to need your help with the cattle tomorrow." She prodded Lillian forward. "But before you do anything, give this poor girl a dance. All she's done is sit all night, that's no place for a pretty young thing."
The tip of Lillian's nose went red. "There's a reason for that. I'm not a good dancer, by any means."
His mother seemed not to hear; waving vaguely at them she began to move towards the exit, leaving them standing awkwardly amongst the other dancing couples. Lillian turned to him, still blushing. "You really don't have to. I'm really awful, I can't dance to save my life."
He grinned sideways at her. "How bad can you be?" He tugged at her hand, knotting his fingers through hers and placing her other palm on his shoulder. "Just relax and let me lead." Fitting his other hand about the small of her back, he began to steer her towards the middle of the dance floor.
It had been a long time since he had last felt her under his hands; he pressed against the muscles over her back, forcing her a little closer to him than he normally would have dared to, the tips of her breasts barely brushing against his chest. She shot him a look before fumbling slightly, her left foot stomping on his. "Sorry!" Her one hand moved from his shoulder to press against his neck in apology, he cheeks reddening slightly as he chuckled. "I told you I'm bad."
"You could be worse." He grinned down at her. "Although it is refreshing to find something you're terrible at. I'll add it to the list along with hand-fishing and keeping your temper."
She looked as if she wanted to hit him but settled on looking away in an annoyed manner, the couples around them no doubt on the receiving end of one of her glares. Mikhail mercifully ended his song to general applause, Lillian taking care to step farther away from him than necessary. The violinist struck up another tune, this one of a much slower variety.
"Up for another round?" He asked, reaching for her waist.
She looked pointedly over his shoulder, clearing her throat. "I think not. People are staring."
This wasn't necessarily true; although a few curious glances were being sent their way, the only fixed gaze seemed to be coming from Laney, who was watching them so intensely she was on the verge of overfilling a pitcher of ale. He chuckled slightly, turning back to her. "Hardly, you just don't want to show off more of your awful dancing."
She pretended not to hear him, speaking slightly louder than she normally would have. "Let's grab a drink and head outside, it's hot in here."
He grabbed a bottle of wine from an empty table and followed her out, the cool autumn air hitting his face so hard he had to blink a few times to keep his eyes from stinging. She had turned right, abandoning the possibility of the empty town square, instead leading him on a small path behind the request board and to a tiny clearing that couldn't have been more than a few paces wide.
"Cozy." He remarked, taking a hearty swig of wine before he passed the bottle her way. He had never seen Lillian drink before and was surprised as she tilted the bottle as far back as it would go, easily taking triple the amount he had.
She righted the bottle, smacking her lips slightly, fighting a grin at the expression on his face. "My mother was quite the drinker in her day. Used to get into competitions with the men in the village every now and again. Or so I'm told."
"Ah, so it's a family business." He chuckled, trying to catch up to her with a few extra mouthfuls of wine.
It was the first time a comfortable silence had stretched between them; seating themselves beneath the shadow of an older maple tree, nothing more than the bottle passed between them. He could hardly stop himself from staring at her; now more than ever she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. The wind was picking up the later it got- her summer clothes would soon be too cold for the autumn weather, and had it not been for the wine lighting a fire in both their bellies they would have been freezing. A stray breeze caught her hair, a strand catching his cheek and sending her familiar lavender scent through his veins.
"So what's your family business then?" She caught his gaze as he passed her the half empty bottle, her eyes not leaving his as she took another swig.
"Not sure." He shrugged, his eyes finding a spot on his boot. "Judging by my father I'd say leaving."
"I'll be on my guard then." She smirked at him momentarily before stealing herself, her lips blowing a low note into the bottle as she spoke. "But really, though. Do you ever think about your dad? Ever wonder why he left?" He hesitated, watching as her foot came down to prod his in the darkness after several long moments. "... I don't ask for much, Ash. And I understand that there are some things you don't wanna talk about with me. But I do ask for honesty."
She had misread him the way she usually did. His pause wasn't out of discomfort; rather, he was trying to find the right words. He rarely brought up his father, and finding the right words to express what he only ever kept in his mind was proving challenging. He cleared he throat, willing the wine to do the talking for him. "I guess the only way to explain it is to go back quite a bit... My family has been living in Bluebell for years- generations, in fact. We were some of the first to settle it, actually. Practically everyone here is related to me, even if distantly... Howard is my mother's third cousin, and Rutger is my great-great uncle, or something... My dad was born around the same time the tunnel collapsed between the two villages. No tunnel meant no new visitors, no new blood to marry into and keep the village thriving... A lot of people started moving away, because the isolation scared them a bit. It was really rare to see a new face, I guess, only at events like this. When my dad was growing up, there weren't many kids around here. In fact, it might have been just him and Mom for a long time. And at a certain point, my grandfather kind of gave my dad an ultimatum: either marry and take over the family farm, or risk being written out of the will. So naturally..."
"He married your mom."
"Exactly. And I do think things were alright, at first... I mean, they had been friends for so long and had me right away and were carrying along just fine. But I think he started wondering... If he had made the right choice. If he maybe jumped into things a little too quickly. But he didn't want to risk losing the family farm, and my grandpa was getting too old to run it... I guess he thought it would get easier as time went on... And then my grandpa died, and the deed to the farm arrived in my dad's name and... I don't know. Sometimes on my bad days I imagine that he just felt so free. Like he had all the loose ends tied up, or something... And then mom became pregnant with Cheryl. And I was only about 10 or so and I just remember... He was so distracted all the time. He could barely keep still, and he stopped spending time with me and mom- he never wanted to eat dinner or play with me; all he did was sit in the barn, taking care of the animals... Then one day, a few weeks before Cheryl was born... He was gone."
"...Ash." He was surprised to hear Lillian's voice in the darkness- he had almost forgotten she was still beside him. He grabbed the wine from her hands and drank another hearty swish, trying to make sense of the words he had kept inside for so long as they came rushing out of him.
"It was like Mom shut down; even after Cheryl was born it was like she was just on auto-pilot. And there I was, this 10 year old kid trying to fill the shoes of someone so much older and better than me..." He brushed impatiently at the wetness in his eyes. "It was hard. But I never... I never let Cheryl see. She's the only piece of him I have left; to do right by her is to do right by my father... even if he's a dead-beat he deserves that."
Lillian didn't say anything for a moment; he hadn't noticed her grip on his arm until now. "So that's it then." She paused, lacing her fingers through his. "You're dad left and you haven't seen or heard from him since?"
He shrugged. "Not once. No letters, no phone calls, no money sent back or anything... He never bothered to see what became of his kids." He paused, biting his tongue. "Well... Not exactly, I should say. He did do something."
He left such a long and pregnant pause between them that Lillian had to knock his boot with hers. "Honesty, remember?"
He felt the corners of his mouth turn up, and for the first time in a while he looked at her. Her hair was just as ruffled as ever; she had confided with him on one occasion that it was nearly impossible for her to make it lie flat. There was a smudge of something on her cheek- whether dirt or make-up he couldn't tell. He smiled at her, his heart beating a little more quickly than it normally would have as he looped his fingers through hers. "Before he left, he went to town hall and changed the name on the deed. He doesn't have any claim to the family farm anymore."
"Then who-?"
He smiled down at her, marvelling at the feeling of her hand in his. "I do. Since age 10... Every animal, every building... Every dollar the ranch earns is mine."
She nodded against his shoulder. "So... What does that mean then?"
"It means," He sighed and raised the bottle to his lips, unaware of the wetness returning to his eyes as he drained it in one. "That while Dad got out of here just fine, he made sure that his only son wouldn't be as lucky."
I'm curious as to what you guys thought of this... Review please :)