The reception was over, and Arundel had cleared out. Even those who had spent days at the estate were spreading thin. Jane, Batty, and Ben would stay one more night, and Lydia had been given permission to stay with the Petelliers for another ten days. The rest of the families had already returned home – Cagney's (though they hadn't gone far), Nick's, Turron's. Mr. Penderwick and Iantha were gone, as were the tenured Mr. and Mrs. Geiger.
Alec was the next to leave. He had already packed his car, but Jeffrey convinced him to stay for a drink. They sat in the drawing room with Skye, Rosalind, and Tommy. That drink had run dry, and though Alec was hiding it rather well, Jeffrey could tell he was itching to go.
Dyson and Feldspar were in the middle of a drawn out, mournful farewell – full of tumbling and barking, with Sonata circling around them in an effort to maintain peace.
"Come on, you silly beast," Alec said to his dog. "Time to head home."
"How can you separate them?" said Rosalind, as Dyson tackled Feldspar's head and chewed his ear. "Look. He doesn't want to leave."
"He'll forgive me. I promised we will stop for chicken sandwiches," said Alec.
"Stay another day, please," said Rosalind.
Alec chuckled. "I would, but Arundel and I are ready to part ways – for good this time, I hope."
Jeffrey laughed behind his glass and shook ice into his mouth. It was coated with the remnants of the old fashioned he'd finished, and that would be the last of alcohol for him this evening.
"I'm sorry," said Rosalind, both sympathetic and guilty. "I didn't think about that when I was planning the wedding."
"And you shouldn't have," said Alec.
"I thought about it," said Jeffrey, tucking the ice into his cheek. "Didn't stop me from making the suggestion."
"Thanks for that," said Alec.
"You're so welcome."
"Good thing you did," said Skye. "Or who knows where we'd be."
Jeffrey laughed and crunched down what was left of his ice. It was a funny thought, how one thing can snowball into another. Life had a strange way of working out. Maybe he did believe in destiny. There was a lot that had fallen into place for him by chance. The two most obvious were in the room with him – Skye, one, and Alec, the other.
"I still wish you would stay," said Rosalind. It was bumming her out, how fast her wedding had come and gone.
"I appreciate that," said Alec. He happened to look at Tommy right when he set down his empty glass to pull off his tie. Alec laughed. "But the groom is taking his clothes off. That's my cue to hit the road."
Tommy grinned and draped his arm over the couch behind Rosalind. His tie hung undone around his neck. "I'm patient."
"Sometimes," said Rosalind.
"Today."
Alec stood up from his chair. "Congratulations again. You two, I've never been worried about." He wagged a finger between Jeffrey and Skye. "But you – that's still up for debate."
"Time will tell." Jeffrey laughed, though as far as he was concerned, the debate was over.
"Yes it will." Alec looked to Skye. "I expect I'll be seeing more of you now."
"I expect so," she agreed.
"Good." Alec smiled. "Jeffrey is going to stop by my place before he heads home. Why don't you come with him?"
"Yeah, okay." Skye looked pleased by the invitation. Jeffrey had planned to invite her himself, but maybe she preferred it from Alec. As if she didn't already know he had a soft spot for her.
"Alright then." Alec stood over Dyson, who rolled over and kicked his legs through the air. "Time's up, buddy."
Dyson barked and writhed on the carpet to scratch his back. Alec scooped him up with a sigh. He tucked him under his arm, waved to the group, and escaped. As it would turn out, he was right. Never again would he return to Arundel.
Tommy, despite his claims, wasn't incredibly patient. Almost directly after Alec left, he got to his feet – an unsubtle hint at Rosalind that he was ready to leave Jeffrey and Skye behind. She laughed at him, then got up too. They said goodnight and set out for the carriage house, which they had claimed as their own for this night.
They were unaccompanied now, so Skye left her chair to climb into Jeffrey's with him. Her knees opened across his lap, her dress bunched to the hip. He fidgeted underneath her – an instinctive stir that could not be helped with her so close.
"Tonight went well, I thought," she said, an arm behind his neck to keep herself from tipping backwards.
"Yeah it did."
"I'm glad they all know."
Ben and Lydia had been looped in as well. There was no one around who had yet to hear.
"Me too."
Skye smiled and took Jeffrey's cocktail glass from his hand. Once she set it on the small table beside them, he took hold of her chin and pulled her in for a kiss.
She turned her head at the last minute, and Jeffrey missed. He laughed and tried again, but Skye was having her fun baiting him, like she could get in his lap and not expect him to kiss her.
His phone buzzed once in his pocket. Skye let him kiss her while she fished for it, but she shortly twisted away to look at the message for him.
"Oh boy," she said.
"What?" Jeffrey read the text on his watch to answer for himself. It was from his mother: bring Skye to the cottage when you are available.
So she really was willing to apologize. Jeffrey wasn't surprised, exactly – not after how well their conversation had gone earlier – but he also wouldn't have been surprised if she'd decided to stand him up. He smiled, pleased she hadn't.
"Oh good. One of us thinks that's something to smile about," Skye grumbled and handed his phone to him. She was not smiling.
"It'll be fine."
"Doubtful. I'm not going to lie to you – I'm a little drunk."
"So am I. She won't notice." Jeffrey pat her legs. "Come on. The less she waits, the smoother it will go."
Skye groaned, but she climbed out of the chair. "You better appreciate these things I do for you."
"Always." His mother probably felt the same. It was a big day for doing things for Jeffrey.
Skye dragged her feet as they left the room, but soon after accepted her fate. Jeffrey almost told her why his mother had come, that he had specifically asked her to. He ultimately didn't. He was a little curious how Skye would take an unforeseen apology. She'd never gotten one from his mother. Not many did. They were rather like sighting a double rainbow – rare, and a sign of promise.
It was unusually eerie walking through Arundel's empty grounds. So recently they had been full of life and music, and now, the only life left was the flora and fauna. It was quiet – peaceful, but equally disconcerting.
Mrs. Tifton stood on the cottage porch with Natalie, who waved as they came into view. Mrs. Tifton turned. She did not wave, but she did watch them approach.
"I should have changed," Skye hissed at Jeffrey. "Why didn't you tell me to change?"
Her bridesmaid dress was covered in grass stains
"What does it matter? You can't make her like you any less."
"Thanks a bunch. Very helpful," Skye grouched. She flicked at the green streaks on her skirt, which did nothing to salvage it.
"You've never cared before," he reminded her.
"Before we were only friends," she countered. "Before I never had to see her. I've talked to your mom more this weekend than I did in fifteen whole years."
"You didn't talk to her once in those fifteen years."
"Exactly!" Skye was not appeased. Nor would she be, because they'd gotten too close to Mrs. Tifton to continue discussing her.
Natalie went inside the cottage, and Mrs. Tifton stepped off the porch to meet them.
"Hey," Jeffrey greeted.
Mrs. Tifton gave him a stiff smile. It was clear this was not how she would have preferred to spend her evening. All the more reason for Jeffrey to appreciate that she was here anyway.
She looked at Skye and immediately noted the stains slashed across her outfit. "You seem to have been…active."
"Soccer," Jeffrey explained.
"With the two of you, it is always something."
Skye shot Jeffrey a quick glare. An 'I told you so' glare. He scratched the back of his neck with a guilty laugh.
Skye's dress was not the only thing that hadn't been well prepped for Mrs. Tifton. Though it was getting dark, the July evening was warm enough that Jeffrey hadn't thought to grab a jacket. His sleeves were short and his arms were bare – a fact he was quickly reminded of.
"What—" Mrs. Tifton took a sharp step forward. "Jeffrey, what is that?"
Arm raised, he'd graced her with full view of Arundel's original key tattooed down his tricep. Whoops. There was nothing he could do about that now. He chose acceptance. She would have found out at some point, so why not today?
"One of my tattoos."
"One of them?" Mrs. Tifton snatched up his arm, inspecting it for another. When she didn't find one, she searched his second arm, and there saw the script scrawled inside. She let go with a huff. "How many are there?"
"Four." Jeffrey wanted to laugh. He didn't.
"You have four tattoos?"
"That's what I said," Skye piped up. She grinned at Jeffrey, pleased that his mother's judgment was no longer hers to bear.
"When did this happen?" Mrs. Tifton demanded. "Why did it happen?"
Jeffrey shrugged, and a little laugh slipped out. "I like them."
Curtly, she repeated, "When, Jeffrey?"
"The first was a few years ago. The last one I got in February."
Her sigh was long, and she shook her head. "You must not have told me because you know it was a mistake."
"Because I knew you wouldn't be happy about it," he corrected. He regretted none of his ink.
"Of course I'm not," she snapped.
"That's fine."
"It has to be." She was too late to stop him. She studied his arm, which hung back at his side, the German quote scarcely visible. "I suppose you weren't completely irresponsible. They are easily hidden."
Which was not something he'd done on purpose. He just liked those spots best. "It doesn't matter."
"Don't get another one," said Mrs. Tifton. "Four is beyond enough."
"I probably won't." He was almost positive he wouldn't, but her opinion would not be the reason why.
"Don't."
Jeffrey was about to politely remind her it wasn't her business, but he was distracted by a large, wet nose unexpectedly nuzzling his hand. He jumped and found a colossal dog standing between him and Skye, panting with excitement and wagging his tail.
This was not any colossal dog, but a Great Dane. A three-legged Great Dane, about whom Jeffrey had heard many a story. He broke into a grin.
"Hitch!" said Skye, startled.
Hitch woofed his greeting. He stood on his hind legs, his single front paw perched on Skye's shoulder. Up like that, he was taller than she was. Skye stumbled under his weight, but she caught herself and returned his hug. He slapped a happy kiss across her face.
"This is a surprise," she said. "I thought you were gone for good, big guy."
Hitch barked, indignant to such poor faith.
Mrs. Tifton watched him with tense discomfort. She spared no love for dogs, particularly not the ones capable of bowling her over with ease.
Hitch was not interested in bowling anyone over, but he had noticed Mrs. Tifton, and she did interest him. She was a stranger. He liked strangers, as they often became friends, and new friends were a great joy.
He jumped away from Skye, who again lost her balance. Jeffrey caught her hand to save her, and once she'd settled, he laced their fingers together.
Hitch gave Mrs. Tifton a curious sniff. She stepped back with her hands clutched high to her chest, away from his big nose. Hitch cocked his head. Perhaps he had not greeted her sufficiently. He hopped closer. She further retreated. Hitch sat, his tail thumping the lawn. If he was patient enough, he was sure she would greet him back.
"Who's dog is this?" Mrs. Tifton looked to Skye accusingly.
"He's mine."
Jeffrey searched for the source of the voice. Behind them, a boy – twenty, maybe twenty-one years old – dressed in a black and red biker jacket had trailed Hitch to the cottage. Though they had never met, Jeffrey didn't have to wonder who he was. Of course, he had expected this boy (where there was Hitch, he soon followed), but it remained a slight bit of a shock to see him. Just that morning he had been about three hundred miles west on Interstate 90. Yet, here he was, back again. The pull of Batty's phone call – a phone call Jeffrey had been told all about – must have been quite strong.
Instead of asking him, Mrs. Tifton directed her irritated question at Skye. "And who is he?"
"Wesley," she said. "He's Batty's…um…"
Skye didn't know what Wesley was anymore. He had left Arundel the day before, never to be seen again. Lydia had mourned him and Hitch. Batty had said what Skye thought to be her final goodbye. Wesley's sudden reappearance made her question the arrangement.
Jeffrey laughed. "Just that. He's Batty's."
Wesley's reputation was not one of expressiveness. He lived up to it, not smiling, but his eyes crinkled at the corners. Jeffrey thought that was his smile, internal.
"Ah," said Mrs. Tifton, quite unimpressed by the number of young men taken with Penderwicks. "Well, Wesley. Your dog won't leave me alone."
"He will. Just say hi real quick."
"To the dog?" The suggestion was beyond Mrs. Tifton's comprehension. She did not speak to dogs. She definitely didn't say hello.
"Hitch," Wesley told her.
She laughed uncomfortably and backed off another step. "I don't think so. Get him away from me."
Wesley shrugged and whistled once. Hitch's ears swiveled toward the sound, and he happily trod to Wesley's side. Wesley took a dog biscuit from his jacket pocket, and Hitch snuffed it eagerly from his palm.
"So…Wesley," said Skye. "No offense, but why are you here?"
He didn't look up from scratching Hitch behind the ears. "Batty asked me."
"To come back?" Jeffrey wasn't one to judge, but he thought that might have been a touch excessive. Wesley had been clear on the other side of New York when Batty had called him.
Wesley shook his head. "To talk."
He'd come back all on his own. Jeffrey grinned once more. The pull of Penderwicks was indeed strong.
"What did she do that for?" said Skye. "Again, no offense."
Wesley's only answer was a one-shoulder shrug.
"Not to pat myself on the back, but she took my advice," said Jeffrey.
"What advice?" said Skye.
"I said she didn't have to say bye forever if it upset her."
"Oh yeah. The long distance conversation. You mentioned that."
Wesley watched them silently until they stopped talking. Then he said, "You're Jeffrey, right?"
"Yeah. Great to meet you, by the way. Batty raves about you."
The crinkle around Wesley's eyes returned for that ghost of a smile of his. His gaze dropped to Jeffrey's hand, still wrapped around Skye's. "I heard you didn't get married, Skye."
"I did not, yes."
Wesley's lips formed the word "oh". He kept his eyes on her and Jeffrey's hands for a count of three, then turned them back to Hitch. His mouth twitched. He almost smiled for real.
Hitch leaped to his feet. He barked, and Mrs. Tifton flinched. Someone was coming. Someone Hitch believed was second only to Wesley. He lumbered in a wide, joyous circle, woofing his repeated hello to the hidden visitor.
And then, there was Batty. Hitch lunged, but Wesley caught him by the collar and told him to calm down. Hitch sat, with a big-eyed, doleful look at Wesley. Already he had been apart from Batty for too long. Must he wait?
He sat until Batty reached them. Wesley let go of his collar, and he jumped up, tail flying left and right, an ecstatic whine squealing in his throat.
"Hi Hitch!" Batty dropped to her knees and threw her arms around him. She smothered his big face with kisses. "Oh, I've missed you – so, so much, my handsome boy." She gave him one last kiss before she looked at Wesley, her expression almost shy. "Both my handsome boys."
That got an actual smile out of him, one that even showed a bit of teeth. "Hey, Batty."
Mrs. Tifton muttered something and rolled her eyes, but she watched the pair of them with rapt attention. She was a sucker for a good romance, Jeffrey knew. It was what got her in trouble.
"You're completely nuts. Do you know that?" said Batty. Jeffrey noticed that ever so slightly, her voice shook. "You didn't have to come all the way back here."
"I had the time," he said, like backtracking several hours was no grand gesture. "I wanted to see you."
"You're nuts anyway," said Batty. She saw it as the grand gesture it was. That was plain on her face. "Would you…do you want to go for a walk?"
He nodded. Hitch perked up. A walk? He would always accept that invitation. He reared up on his hind legs to demonstrate his approval. Wesley chuckled and patted his back.
Batty stretched out her arm, opening and closing her hand in a request for Wesley to take it. He did, after a moment's hesitation, and together they headed off toward the woods. Hitch padded along beside them. Jeffrey couldn't decide which of them – Hitch, Wesley, or Batty – was the most overwhelmed by this unexpected reunion.
"I like him," said Jeffrey, once they were gone.
"He doesn't say much," said Mrs. Tifton.
"He never does," said Skye.
"Refreshing," said Mrs. Tifton. "The rest of you are awfully loud."
Jeffrey laughed, but minimally as he could. His mother wasn't an especially quiet person herself. Skye flashed him a knowing look, but she didn't comment.
"What do you think she's saying to him?" asked Skye.
Jeffrey had a general idea, but that didn't staunch his curiosity. "I want to spy on them."
"Let's," said Skye.
"I don't have all night," said Mrs. Tifton, reminding them she had come for a reason. Jeffrey hadn't forgotten.
"Right. You have something to say to me, I'm guessing," said Skye.
"Yes." Mrs. Tifton shut her mouth. She looked at Jeffrey. Must I really?, that look meant. He smiled – yes, please. She sighed. "I thought I should tell you, Skye. I've put a great deal of thought into our discussion from the other night."
She fell silent again. This was not easy for her. Apologies never were. She had to force them out through gritted teeth.
"Oh. That," said Skye. The memory was not a fond one.
"I would like to say—" Mrs. Tifton crossed her arms. She tightened her mouth and exhaled pointedly out her nose. "I'd like to apologize. It was not my place to interfere with your plans. I'm sorry."
Skye opened her mouth. She shut it. She looked quizzically at Jeffrey, who shrugged. When she turned her eyes back on his mother, they were narrowed. "Are you sorry that you did it, or are you sorry about the result?"
The question put Jeffrey on edge. It was fair, but his mother had lost her temper over less. The response didn't please her – Jeffrey thought that was obvious – but she kept her composure. He let out his breath.
"You want transparency, I expect," said Mrs. Tifton. "The answer is both. If I'd had my way, the situation would have resolved very differently. I won't deny that."
Skye sent Jeffrey another look. He returned it only a moment before focusing back on his mother. He didn't mind her honesty, but he was waiting on a second part. She could do it. He knew she could.
"But," she said finally. "I realize I put you in a difficult position, and I may have been overly harsh. For that, I apologize."
"Okay." Skye, deeply startled, had yet to form a substantial response.
"You will also be pleased to hear that though I find this relationship you've begun with my son…distasteful, it's not something I intend to sabotage." She rested her stare on Jeffrey's hand in Skye's, and her chest rose with a heavy breath. "I know what I would lose if I dared try. It's not nearly worth that to me."
Jeffrey's lips rose in a tiny smile.
Skye nodded slowly as she processed. She let go of Jeffrey's hand to mirror Mrs. Tifton's folded arms. "I appreciate that you can say that to me."
"Good," said Mrs. Tifton.
"But, did you apologize to Jeffrey?" Skye asked, with patience that impressed him. "You're right – that was a lousy situation you put me in – but it's his trust you broke, and I saw how much it hurt him when he found out."
"We have reached our own understanding, yes," said Mrs. Tifton, sharp and defensive, but she stayed calm. Painfully calm. The kind of calm that meant she had plenty else she would like to say.
"Okay. Great." Skye didn't push the matter further. "And, thank you. It's like I told Jeffrey – I'm not angry about it anymore. I can't be. Not after how it turned out. I think—" She laughed. "I think I'm even grateful, a little bit."
"Don't be," said Mrs. Tifton, and she meant it. The last thing she wanted from Skye was anything that resembled gratitude. The burden of credit for their fresh relationship, she couldn't withstand – regardless how slight that credit might be.
"I'm not much," said Skye. She was just as proud. "But I think we can forget the whole thing. It's not my problem now."
"No. I believe it's mine," Mrs. Tifton said with tired resentment.
"Do you regret it?" Jeffrey decided to ask. He should have before.
"No," said Mrs. Tifton. "I can apologize for being severe, and I can apologize for violating your trust, but I will not apologize for watching out for you."
"Even though…?" He pressed.
"Even though."
"Cool," said Skye.
Jeffrey laughed, as did Mrs. Tifton. Hers was bitter.
"I would rather you find happiness at the expense of mine than it be the other way around," she told him. She smiled, though it was tense – her unhappiness over the matter still very real. "That is a lesson I learned the hard way."
"What does that mean?" said Jeffrey. He thought he knew. It startled him. They'd steered clear of that topic since he was a child.
She frowned at him. "You know what it means."
"I just didn't know that's how you feel about it."
He thought back to the summer he'd turned twelve. His mother had apologized to him profusely, but he had always assumed that what she really regretted was sending him to Pointe Mouette in the first place – and that maybe she regretted how much meeting his father unexpectedly had hurt him. He hadn't thought she'd come to understand that the absence of him had always hurt worse. He'd never thought she actually regretted keeping him away.
"Of course it's how I feel about it," Mrs. Tifton said with proud indignance. "He's your best friend. I wish he weren't, but I'm not blind."
"It isn't a competition, you know," he said.
"We're not getting into that right now," she said, almost before he'd finished speaking.
"Okay. But if you ever want to—"
"Jeffrey."
"I know," he laughed. No harm in trying. He hadn't in probably a decade.
"The point is I'm not blind about her either," Mrs. Tifton continued, speaking of Skye but not to her. "I may disapprove, but I know who she is to you."
"Thank you."
"I have always known. From the very beginning," said Mrs. Tifton. She had something else waiting on her tongue, but she paused, debating if it was worth it. In time, she decided it was. "Dexter told me once I was too worried. Children make new friends fast, and they forget them fast. When the vacation ends, they're never seen again – that's what he said, I think."
Goodness. That must have been painful for her to get out. She was careful to never mention her ex-husbands by name. Even Jeffrey, when seldom he brought one up, had taken to referring to them as Ex-Husband B, C, and so on.
"Of course he did," said Jeffrey.
"I never could get myself to believe him," said Mrs. Tifton.
"Obviously. Dexter didn't know anything," said Skye. "Still doesn't, I'm sure."
Mrs. Tifton's reaction was slight, a half-smile that almost cracked through her stony face. Promising, Jeffrey thought. If she would ever bond with Skye over anything, it could only be mutual dislike.
So he baited them both. "I don't know. There's hope for everybody."
Mrs. Tifton and Skye spoke a synchronous "no", and Jeffrey felt victorious.
"Look at that," he said. "Common ground."
"Yes, well," said Mrs. Tifton, conflicted. On one hand, she appreciated criticism of her exes, but on the other, she didn't want to ever agree with Skye. "Don't get too excited. On some matters, common ground is easily reached."
"If you're ever feeling extra spiteful, though, I would love to talk about Dexter," said Skye. "I have many, many opinions to share. It'll be great."
"I'm sure you do." Mrs. Tifton looked almost intrigued enough to ask about these opinions, but she couldn't manage it. "Perhaps another time. It's late, and I would very much like to leave."
Jeffrey was impressed she had stayed this long. "Yeah, it's been a day," he agreed, offering her a smile. "This meant a lot to me, Mom."
She studied him a while, trying to gauge how much it had. Stiffly, she nodded. "I know."
She scraped out a short, strained smile for Skye, who made the abrupt decision to say, "Rosy wore your veil – if you care."
"I don't." Mrs. Tifton's face was carefully blank, but her pause told Jeffrey that she was surprised. She added, "It would have been silly if she hadn't."
"She liked it," said Skye, which was as close to a thank you as she could muster. "Tommy liked it too."
"I should think so," said Mrs. Tifton.
She walked off, and Skye watched her round the hedge.
"That was your doing, wasn't it?"
Jeffrey shrugged. "I asked her to say sorry, but she's the one who did it."
"Do you think she meant it?" Skye asked, beginning to walk back to the house.
"I don't know." Jeffrey caught up with her in a few quick steps. "It doesn't matter to me."
"Me neither."
Jeffrey snaked his arm around her waist and turned her into his chest, only for the brief moment it took for him to say, "Thanks for being like that with her." He kissed her face, and they continued walking.
She looked sideways at him with a crooked, wry smile. "She makes my blood boil."
"I remember." Jeffrey grabbed her hand and playfully swung their arms. "That's why I said thank you."
"She's important to you," said Skye. "And that's important to me. I can be civil, mostly. Probably. We'll find out. I promise to try."
"That's perfect," he said. "I love you."
"Ah yes. The scoop of the century."
Jeffrey grinned and kissed her face, then again, until she leaned out of reach. He tried to pull her back, and Skye laughed. She dropped his hand and sprinted up the driveway to the front porch. Jeffrey caught her at the door as she opened it, wrapping his arms around her and showering her face and neck and shoulders with hasty kisses.
"Aren't you sick of chasing me?" she teased.
"Not of catching you." He held on, walking her into the house and kicking the door closed behind them.
"You're a fiend."
"Sure am." He snuck in another kiss to her cheek and then kept his hands, and his mouth, to himself. "Sleep in my room again."
"I wasn't waiting for an invitation."
"Well then. Invitation retracted."
Skye raced for the stairs. "Too bad."
They got to his bedroom, and Jeffrey went in first. Skye barely made it past the door before he pushed it closed, penning her in between his arms.
"Password?" he said.
She lifted an unimpressed brow. "You're supposed to ask for it before you open the door."
He grinned, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. "I meant the one that gets you past me."
Skye rolled her eyes before she kissed him. "Happy?"
"Uh huh." He backed off, and she stalked past, shaking her head, slashes of red gracing her cheekbones. Jeffrey grinned at her back.
His room was dark except for the bathroom light. He liked the soft glow, so he left the lights as they were. He thumbed through a crate of his records, looking for something soothing to end the night on. He set Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway's album of duets on his turntable.
Skye let the opening song play through its first few bars, then she asked, "Are you trying to set the mood?"
Jeffrey took in the room – the subtle lighting, the quiet soul soundtrack. It did seem that way.
"I have other records for that," he said as he pulled open a dresser drawer in search of a t shirt to change into. "This is my nighttime mood."
Skye snickered. "That's precious."
"You should try one." Jeffrey set the same mood every night before bed. He slept better that way, with routine.
"I'll get used to yours."
It was a casual implication that they'd spent a lot of nights together. That his routine would turn into hers. He smiled over his shoulder at her, but she was busying herself with the old books on his desk, acting like she hadn't said anything special.
Jeffrey swapped his dress pants for a pair of dark sweats, very conscious of Skye watching him as he did.
"Can I have that?" she asked, pointing at the t shirt he'd been about to throw on. "I left my stuff downstairs."
He held it out to her, and she hung it over her arm. When he reached for a second shirt, she shut the drawer.
"Sure you don't want to sleep this way?" she asked, tapping her fingertips to his bare chest.
He didn't usually. "I'm not against it."
"Neither am I," she said.
Jeffrey laughed, but inside, he was flustered. He shrugged it off and said, "Alright."
Skye opened different dresser drawers until she found the one where he kept his underwear. She pulled out a pair of boxers and said, "Taking these too."
"Go ahead," said Jeffrey, pretending that didn't fluster him worse.
"Thanks." Skye pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder. "I'm going to shower. You just do your thing."
"You make that sound so easy."
She headed for the bathroom with a grin. "You can look, but you can't get in."
"I take my showers in the morning." Like that would've stopped him if she had invited him in with her.
He tried not to stare too much, but as Skye lathered soap down her arms, and Jeffrey resigned himself to his sudden stir of libido. He ended up watching her in the mirror.
"Nice tent you've got there," said Skye.
Jeffrey tore his eyes from her reflection to check for himself, and – yeah. She'd stirred him physically too. He laughed and tried not to be too embarrassed about it, but he stepped up to the sink – to spit his toothpaste, yes – but to also block her view of his erection.
His mirror opened to a cabinet, swung wide it took with it his view of showering Skye – a loss (though decidedly for the better) he felt acutely. He splashed cold water on his face, hopeful that in the process, he could also rinse away his arousal. He really didn't need that right now. He worried about possible brain malfunction.
Skye got out of the shower as he washed his face. She dried herself and walked over, toweling off her hair.
"Wow, look at you," she said, noting the array of products he'd set by the sink. "You've got a whole skin care routine."
"What, you don't?"
"Sure. Just not as thorough." She wrapped her towel around herself, then looked through his cabinet. She pointed to a stout plastic jar. "What's this for?"
"My hair."
Skye snorted.
Jeffrey finished treating his face and swatted her with his washcloth. "It works."
"I bet it does." She put his products away for him, inspecting each one. "I didn't know you were a beauty expert."
"I wouldn't say that."
"I would." Skye nodded firmly. She picked through his cabinet a little more. "Crème for style – also hair?"
"Yes." Jeffrey shut the cabinet so she couldn't make fun of anything else.
"Exactly how much time do you spend on your hair?" said Skye, making fun of him anyway.
"Enough so it behaves." He grabbed a fistful of her towel and pulled her into him. He smirked. "And so you can't keep your hands out of it."
Skye thought this over. She pushed her hand through his hair. "Touché."
"You're mocking me, aren't you?"
"Yep," she said proudly.
"Admit it – you like my hair."
"I don't hate it."
"Come on. You like it. I know you do."
"Alright, I like your hair." She gave it a purposeful tug, and he laughed. She kissed him once, then said, "I'll shut up about your beauty routine now."
"Thank you."
She smiled and pinched his arm. She hung up her towel and changed into his t shirt and boxer shorts. "Do you have a toothbrush I can use?"
He handed her one, along with a tube of toothpaste. Skye popped the brush in her mouth, and Jeffrey went to his bed to wait for her. After a few short minutes, she lay out beside him.
Jeffrey tugged at the sleeve of his t shirt she wore. "I like you in my stuff."
Skye laughed. "Good, because I'm sorry to say, this is the sexiest I know how to be."
"It works for you." Every look worked for her.
She rolled her eyes. "So, what's the plan now?"
"For tonight?" He knew what he'd like to do – various things that involved her shedding his clothes he liked her in – but he wasn't going to say anything about that.
"No, I meant since the wedding's over. When are you going home?"
"Friday."
"What does your schedule look like before then?"
This was the part when their travel plans would have diverged. They hadn't compared any of them. Before everything had changed, they hadn't talked much at all.
"Tomorrow I'm getting drinks with a friend from town," said Jeffrey. "After that, I don't know. Since my mom's dropped the whole thing about Marlene and marriage, I'll probably spend a day at the Robinettes' with her. Then I'll be with my dad, and I fly out at seven Friday morning."
"What would you say if I asked to come with you?"
"To the Robinettes'?" She had already been invited to Alec's. "You can. You'll hate it, but you can."
"No," Skye scoffed. "I mean to Germany."
"Oh." Jeffrey drew back. International trips weren't usually so spontaneous. "Do you have your passport?"
"Yeah. Me and Dušek—" Skye didn't like bringing him up. She smiled tensely. "We didn't know if we'd take a trip from here or not, so I brought it with me in case. I took two weeks off work, and I don't really want to spend them alone in our apartment. If you're busy, I can go to Cameron, but—" She pushed lightly at his shoulder. "I actually really want to see your place."
"Okay. Yeah, come with me. Please come. I'd love that." A big smile lit his face. Two whole weeks was so much more time than he'd thought he would have with her. It was more time than they'd spent together in over ten years. "I'll be working, but I can probably take some extra nights off."
"Don't. I'll watch you play," she said.
"Alright." Jeffrey rolled over to kiss her. "I'm excited." She'd never been to Europe with him. Batty was the only Penderwick who had, when she'd come with Alec to tour clubs with the pair of them.
"Me too," said Skye. "I always like seeing your world."
They had never shared one. Even at the peak of their friendship, those first couple years of high school, he had been in one place, and Skye in another. When their lives finally did merge, he wondered how long that would take to feel normal.
The t shirt Skye had borrowed from him bore the name "Birdland" in bold letters. Jeffrey tapped it with his finger. "I play here about once a month – not when you'll be there, but we should go."
Skye pulled the shirt away from her chest so she could better read it. She'd put it on without paying attention. "Sure."
"And, I'm supposed to be in Brussels that Wednesday," said Jeffrey. "Through Friday, but I can reschedule if you'd rather stay in Hamburg."
"Are you kidding? We can run all over Europe if that's what you've got on the agenda."
"Kind of," Jeffrey laughed. He was always traveling. Probably fifty percent of his nights were spent away from home. He had his regular spots in Hamburg too, but he liked visiting different cities. He wouldn't be in Europe forever, thus was determined to make the most of it while he was.
"Where to?" said Skye.
"Amsterdam. I'm going there after Belgium, then I'm home for a few days. Copenhagen after that, then Berlin. I think that's it for those two weeks."
"Oh, that's it, huh?" said Skye. "Do you always bounce around that much?"
"More in the summer," he said. "But we can go anywhere you want. I'll work my schedule around it."
"Don't you have a band?" said Skye, skeptically.
"Yeah, but…" Jeffrey shrugged. "I can make it work."
She shook her head. "All of that is enough. It sounds great."
"Okay," said Jeffrey, though he thought they could fit in another destination or two. It was exciting for him – thinking about where they could travel together. "But if you want to see Paris or something, just let me know."
"Of course. The city of love." Skye rolled her eyes at him.
"I like Paris."
"Maybe next time," said Skye. "This will cost me plenty as it is. Do you fly everywhere? I'm sure it's expensive."
"It's not bad."
"Still." Skye made a face.
"Don't worry about it. I'll pay," he offered.
Off the bat, Skye said, "No you won't."
"I'll be dragging you around for my work," said Jeffrey. "I think I should pay."
"No."
"Please?"
"No." Skye said firmly. "I am not exploiting you for a European vacation."
"Why not?"
"Honor, dignity – take your pick."
"What's undignified about letting me treat you?"
"I support myself. I always have. It's not changing."
Jeffrey laughed softly. "I'm not saying I want to support you, just help out a bit."
"I know, just—" Skye sat up. "Let me be clear on one thing. You're never going to pay for something I can't afford myself. That's nonnegotiable."
He smiled, feeling a little scolded. "I'm not trying to flex on you – or insult you. I'm sorry if I did."
"No, you're being nice, I appreciate that. But you have money I don't, and I'm not spending your dime." The look she gave him was pointed. "Your mom already thinks I'm here to take advantage. I won't hand her evidence to use against me."
"My mom thinks money is the only thing people care about."
"She's right about a lot of people." Skye kissed him with a smile. "But I'm just here for you."
"Skye." Jeffrey laughed. "I know that."
"Yeah." She sat back. "But I need everyone to know it. I'm not a leech."
"Can I ask why you care?" It surprised him. This was the first time they'd broached the subject of his money, since… well, ever.
"Because." She sighed. "I know what this looks like. I was all set to get married, found out the rich guy wants me, and…" She scratched through her hair and dropped her hand into her lap with an annoyed thump. "Dušek even brought it up – and I understand it was easier for him to think maybe it was all about money – but he won't be the only person to wonder. I have worked way too hard to make something of myself for it to be discounted because I happen to be dating somebody rich. I don't have patience for that patriarchal bullshit – I'm a goddamn scientist."
"Sorry." Jeffrey winced, and he laughed again. Quickly he stopped. "It's not funny."
"It's how it works. I know that, but I don't have to play into it. I'll make sure everyone knows it's my career that matters. If that makes me prideful, then fuck it. I'm prideful."
Proud, but not prideful. Jeffrey shook his head. "I think it makes you inspiring."
"But isn't that so sad?" Skye straightened up where she sat. "Just because I want to research the universe and develop theories and actually do something worthwhile, that makes me inspiring? It's the fucking expectation when men do it."
"You're doing a lot more than I am, that's for sure."
"You're an artist. That's worthwhile in its own right," said Skye. She was worked up now. This was one topic she could tackle for hours. "But you know what I mean? I don't want to be the female scientist who's breaking the glass ceiling – it's a shitty narrative. I mean, it's the one I've got, and it's better than nothing, but I'm over it. I'd rather be recognized because I'm smart. Because I did the work, and I did it better."
Jeffrey hid a smile behind his hand. "I think you're inspiring because you chase your passions."
"You do – I'm talking about the rest of the world. It shouldn't matter that I'm a woman, but it does. It comes up all the fucking time. I'm so sick of people asking me about any sexism I've faced, telling me how great it is that I've stuck it out as the only woman in my department – don't they realize what they're doing? They're reinforcing the idea that I'm not supposed to be there. Good for me for standing up, because I'm in a field that's not meant for me. Fuck that – I'm not a victim. I'm not a "woman in STEM", I'm just in STEM. I'm a hard worker. I chase my passions, like you said. That's all I want people to see." Skye stopped to take a breath. She was flushed with spirit. "Don't get me wrong, I know there's bias and underrepresentation and all that. The problem is there, but I still think the most impressive thing about me shouldn't be that I'm a woman scientist, it should simply be—"
"That you're brilliant," said Jeffrey.
"Exactly."
He fell in love with her all over again any time she let her confidence in that brilliance show.
Skye held her small, almost sheepish smile at him for a long time. She hadn't meant to dive into that speech. "I'll get off my soapbox now."
"No, no. Stay there. I like it."
She looked skeptical. "You like listening to me rant about stereotypes?"
"I like listening to you rant about anything."
Skye laughed, then sighed. She flopped onto her back. "This world is crap. I'll leave it at that."
Jeffrey rolled over her, holding himself up with one arm. "If you're wondering, I think the most impressive thing about you is that you're completely you – whatever you want, you make it happen. A lot of people are smart, but they don't capitalize on it. You do. And you don't care who it rubs the wrong way. You bulldoze them and carry on. You know what you can do if you try, so you try, and you do it. Every time. That's what's so inspiring." He pecked her mouth. "You inspire me."
Her lips pressed into a tight smile, and a subtle pink tinged her cheeks. Then that smile grew, and she said, "If you keep talking like that, I'm going to suck your dick."
She knocked him for six, throwing that out so casually, but Jeffrey played it off. Well, he thought he did. He tried to. "Just because I see what you want everyone to see?"
Skye laughed and pushed him off so she could sit back up. "I told you. This world is crap."
"You're right."
"How did we get into that? I forgot."
"I said I'd pay for your flights."
"Oh yeah." She grinned and squeezed his knee. "I wasn't lecturing you. I know you're not crap."
"High praise."
"It is." Skye leaned in, but she didn't kiss him. Someone had knocked on the door.
"Yeah?" said Jeffrey.
Batty asked, "Can I come in?"
"Uh..." Jeffrey jumped out of bed to throw a shirt on. "Sure."
She opened the door. "Don't mind me – robbing you real quick." She beelined for his bathroom.
"What do you need?"
"I'll find it."
He heard cabinets opening and closing. He looked at Skye, who shrugged.
"How'd it go with Wesley?" he asked, climbing back onto the bed.
"Great."
"Great, like he's your boyfriend again?"
"Yeah." She didn't seem interested in carrying on a conversation. Another cabinet shut.
"Are you sure you don't need help?"
"Yep."
Jeffrey shared another look with Skye. "Why are you being weird?"
"I'm not."
She was. He began telling her so, but stopped. All at once he knew what she was looking for. He said, "Oh."
Skye landed on the conclusion with him. "Holy shit."
Jeffrey started to laugh. Skye hit him.
"Batty, they're not in there," he said.
She paused her search. After a short silence, she appeared at the bathroom door. "What?"
He stifled his laugh. "Why don't you tell me what you're looking for?"
She folded her arms. "I think you know."
"I do."
Batty's face was red. "So…where are they, then?"
"Where's what?" Now he was teasing her.
"Just tell me."
"If you're not mature enough to ask for them, are you really mature enough to need them?" said Jeffrey.
"Shut up. I'm mature. Of course I'm mature – you're a jerk."
"If you say so." Jeffrey leaned over Skye and pulled open his nightstand drawer. He checked the expiration date on the Trojan box before tossing Batty a strip of condoms.
She caught it with a flustered flail of hands. "I only need one!"
"You never know," said Skye.
Batty indignantly ripped off one individually wrapped package and flung the rest back to Jeffrey. "Thank you. Now shut up about it."
"You know where that goes, right?" said Skye.
"I said shut up about it, oh my god!" Batty slammed the bedroom door behind her.
Skye burst out laughing. Jeffrey did too, but with more composure.
"Batty's going to get laid!" said Skye, falling to the bed.
"I guess so."
Skye raised herself on her elbow. "Do you think it's her first time?
"I doubt it."
"That's nuts," said Skye. "What happened? When did we all become adults?"
"Good question."
"You know what's really nuts?" said Skye. "Rosy will be twenty-eight in a few months. Guess how old Iantha was when she married my dad."
"You're going to say twenty-eight."
"Twenty-eight!"
"That…" Jeffrey nodded. "Makes me feel old."
"Seriously." Skye looked around. "So does this room, actually. I mean, what the hell? Lydia's the age we were the last time I was here. How wild is that?"
For Jeffrey, the room was more of a reminder that he'd left his life behind. Lydia, though –
her fast increasing age continued to date him.
"Do you ever miss it? Being eleven?" Skye asked.
An amused smile slowly crossed his face, and he shook his head. "Never."
Skye laughed. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't."
"Do you?" The idea was foreign to him – not that his life had been so terrible then, but it was a lot better now. The impending threat of military school, trying to run away from home, Dexter moving to Arundel, a life without his father in it – all history, as it should be.
"Sometimes. It was easy." Skye rolled onto her stomach, laying in front of him. She pushed his knees apart. "I will say, adulthood has its perks."
She set her hand in his lap, and Jeffrey's pulse spiked. Pretending it hadn't, he merely said, "It does."
"This, for one," she said, giving him a gentle squeeze.
"Mm hmm."
Skye chewed on her lip, her eyes on the hand she had in his lap. She was thinking about blowing him. He could see that on her face. He could also see conflict.
Jeffrey summoned all of his willpower, sent a silent curse at moral principles, then said, "Don't. You don't want to."
Skye looked up, drawing her mouth into a tight smile. "I do want to." She took her hand back. "But I don't think I should."
"Okay, so don't." It was easier to say than it was to fend off disappointment.
She put her forehead in her hand, scrunching her face. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to tease."
"You didn't," he said.
She argued with him through her stare.
He laughed. "We can slow down if you want."
"That's probably best," said Skye. She studied him, smiling ruefully. "You don't look thrilled."
Jeffrey chuckled guiltily. "I can't say I am, but I get it."
"All of my blubbering yesterday made me realize that maybe I'm not as ready to go as far as I thought," she said. "I want to be, but I'm just not."
"Your relationship was really serious. It's okay if you're not ready."
They had moved awfully fast, much faster than Jeffrey ever would have with someone else. He and Skye didn't have to spend time getting to know each other, so intimacy had come easy. That didn't mean it was right.
"I only want to wait a little while. A couple months, maybe?" said Skye. "My lease is up in October, and I'll find a new apartment. That would be a good time, I think."
October sounded like a long way off, but Jeffrey said, "I can wait. Easy."
"It's not supposed to be easy, you jerk," Skye teased.
"I thought I'd never get to sleep with you ever, so yes – waiting will be easy."
"Well, thanks." Skye elbowed him with a smirk. "And hey, if you were to send some dick pics from time to time, I wouldn't complain."
He laughed and elbowed her back. "We'll see."
Skye leaned in to kiss him. She settled back against the wall with a little smile on her face.
Jeffrey rubbed her knee. "What are you thinking?" Her expression was so meditative.
"I was thinking how crazy it would have been if the first time I was in this room, somebody'd told me I'd be back one day doing that."
"What, kissing me?" Jeffrey grinned.
"Yeah." Skye nodded. "If I had known that, I don't think I ever would have spoken to you again, out of pure spite."
He kissed her palm. "But here we are."
"Here we are," she agreed. "Who would've thought?"
"Me, in twelfth grade. And a lot of other grades, but definitely twelfth."
"You were a menace in twelfth grade," she said.
"Yeah, I know." It used to mortify him – and torment him, through an array of intrusive thoughts partial to falling into his head when he most wanted to sleep. From time to time, a safe many years later, he still met those memories with a grimace. "One of the songs I wrote you back then is actually in my set. A version of it, anyway. You'll hear it when you come to the clubs with me."
"Shut up— really?" Skye thought this was funny. "I'd have thought you would want to forget those."
Sometimes she made it especially obvious that she was not a musician, or an artist of any kind.
"No, I'm proud of it," said Jeffrey, protective of that song and all the others. "I'm not going to throw my work out just because I wrote it when I was upset. We'd miss out on a lot of great songs if that's what people did – think of Fleetwood Mac."
"I guess that makes sense," said Skye.
"It's cathartic – makes feeling lousy worth it, you know? When you make something great out of it," said Jeffrey. "And anyway, music is all about emotion, getting people to feel something. That's easiest to do when you put yourself into it."
"You're going to hate this, but music doesn't really make me feel anything," said Skye. "I like music, obviously, but not because it's emotional, or relatable, or whatever. Just because it sounds good."
"I do hate that," said Jeffrey. "What's it like living in black and white? Seems dreary."
Skye drew back, feathers ruffled. "What about you? No questions about how the universe works? How is it living in 2D?"
Jeffrey laughed and poked her ribs. "Does this mean when we're together the world is colorful and three dimensional?"
"Holy cheesecake factory— Jeffrey, what's wrong with you?" said Skye, properly horrified.
"That's what it sounds like to me," said Jeffrey.
She almost smiled, but quickly put an end to that and rolled her eyes. "No comment. I refuse to dignify so cringeworthy a question."
"So…" Jeffrey bit his lip to combat a satisfied smile. "What I'm hearing is you won't say it doesn't mean that."
Skye stared at him, strenuously blank-faced, before she grabbed a pillow and beat him over the head with it. Jeffrey shielded himself with his arm and set his grin free.
"Don't get sappy on me," Skye ordered. "I can't take it."
"You'll have to, if you want this—" He kissed her. "It's a two-for-one special."
She groaned. "You're killing me, Smalls."
"Sorry."
"No you're not."
"No I'm not."
Skye's mouth pressed into an exasperated smirk. She put her hand to his face in what almost qualified as a soft smack (mildly surprised, Jeffrey's brows shot up), and she trailed her fingers down his cheek; they tapered off at his jaw as she got up to turn off the bathroom light and take the record off the turntable. He set his hand in front of his face and thumbed his lip, watching her walk off with a bemused smile. The confusion was habitual at this point.
Skye returned to bed. They slipped under the covers, and she rolled onto her side, ready for sleep. Jeffrey slid behind her and draped his arm over her waist, her hair lying in his face.
Skye turned toward him. "Here's the thing— last night, I was upset. You were really great about it, and I appreciated that a lot. Honestly, I was super relieved I didn't scare you off."
"Okay," said Jeffrey, confused by her sudden confession.
"So I made an exception to my rule."
"What rule?"
"I have to— absolutely have to sleep on my own side of the bed."
Jeffrey let out a single, loud laugh. "Oh, I hear you. I'll piss right off then."
He faced the wall.
"You don't have to so fast." Skye wriggled over, and Jeffrey jolted at the press of her teeth into his shoulder. It was quick, and not very painful, but quite unexpected.
"Holy—" He flipped back over. "You bite?"
She snapped her teeth. "It's in the terms and conditions. I'll get you a copy."
"No one reads the terms and conditions."
"You should count on some surprises, then."
"Believe me," said Jeffrey, thinking over the many, many surprises he had met thus far. "I am."
Skye grinned and kissed his face. "Love you. I can't sleep if you're touching me, but I love you."
He smiled softly. The words had just as powerful an effect on him as they had the first time. They were less of a complete shock, but still – powerful. He kissed her. "Goodnight, Skye."
"Good night." She turned her back on him to fall asleep in her own space.
Abruptly sharing the thought as it came to him, Jeffrey asked, "Do you think there are spiders in here?"
"Who cares?" Skye mumbled.
"They infested the kitchen. I bet they're everywhere." He hadn't remembered the spiders until now.
"Forget about it."
"I'll try." He tried, but couldn't. "The one yesterday was a monster."
"I can't sleep if you're talking to me either."
"Sorry." He laughed and shut up.
Jeffrey awoke several hours later to find Skye's leg thrown over his hips. He chuckled. A strand of her hair was caught in her mouth, so he carefully pulled it away. His pillow was missing. She'd managed to steal it while they both slept; she now hugged it to her chest. Jeffrey smiled and lay his head back on the mattress. She could keep his pillow. He would rather go without it than wake her up.
A/N: seriously. justice for Wesley. I love that kid
