Page 16

the unknown, the unknowable

Ayla

“Are you satisfied?” He threads my fingers through his, resting my wrist on his warm thigh.

I nod once, still staring out the window.

“I’m interested to see what you saw.”

“You were there.” I say quietly, rubbing back and forth across the cuticle of my right thumb.

“Yes, but I don’t see it like you do. You have a gift.”

“Thank you.”

We near an open-air farmer’s stand as we head toward Cian’s house, and he pulls over. “Want to get out and see what they have?”

Not really. I’d rather be alone with my thoughts, but instead I unbuckle and step out, not waiting for him to get my door. His face registers the frustration I feel but won’t show.

Jarred preserves and pickled veggies sit at one end while the early growth of fall vegetables takes front and center. I trail my finger over a butternut squash as Christian approaches the owner.

He lifts his chin in inquiry. “What are the things that we shouldn’t miss?”

“The squash is good. The peach preserves are my wife’s, and they’re outstanding. I like the cider but recommend it warm with some Jack.”

Christian seems to take all of his recommendations but adds a loaf of sourdough bread and a jar of stuffed olives to it, thanking him before moving our haul to the car.

But I’m not done. For some reason, I’m drawn to the man and ask if he minds a photo or two.

“Sure, miss. Whatever you want.”

I retrieve my SLR and return to the end of the stand. Camera out and at eye level, I shoot a few of his set-up and his wares, before snagging a couple of him. I take a card he extends and thank him for his time.

Christian opens my door, placing my bag in the back seat before circling the trunk and getting in.

He turns in his seat to face me, holding my eyes in awkward silence, before scrubbing his face with his hand on a sigh. “Today’s been a lot, it seems. I told Cian we were on our way. You still want to go?”

“I do. I want to see Ci and I want to meet Eleanor… again.”

He starts the car and buckles, waiting until I’ve done the same before putting it in gear. “What were the pictures of the old man’s stand?”

“Something about him seemed… I don’t know the word. Resigned or disappointed or something. Tired maybe. I thought it would be nice to show him a fresh perspective.”

“Do you think you got it? Fresh perspective?”

My voice is dull, and I fight to hide any sarcasm. “Yeah. Things are coming into focus for me.”

Fifteen minutes later, Cian’s front door swings open, and Eleanor bounds out and straight to the passenger side of the SUV. I barely have my door open when the fluffy brown mutt is climbing me, perching her front paws on my knees and licking my chin as if it were lined with peanut butter.

“Eleanor,” Cian calls, while standing tall in the open door. He’s barefoot in jeans and a hoodie.

“Hello, Eleanor. You sure are a beauty, aren’t you?” I scratch around the dog’s ears and down her neck while her tail whips side to side. She pants and it makes her appear to be smiling.

“Well, let me out already. We can go inside and play. ”

The dog woofs as if she were waiting on the offer but doesn’t bother to get down.

I look at my brother who smiles at me and whistles to his pup. That’s all it takes. Eleanor immediately runs to sit between his spread legs, as if she were a military dog on orders. The only difference is her tail sweeps the ground furiously as she holds her seat.

Christian rounds the hood of the car, but I pull slightly ahead, not walking beside him. I hug my brother but notice his brow furrows. I enter the house and hear the two men greeting one another as they follow behind.

Cian’s house is unassuming from the street.

The longer driveway hints at the cost, but I’m not prepared for what I experience inside.

The whole back of the house is a wall of windows.

It backs up to the foothills with a low stone wall that boundaries the property.

Just beyond it are a row of evergreen fir trees that would give lumberjack vibes if the house weren’t so modern in comparison.

The stonework before them creates the perfect terrace.

It has groupings of furniture just made for cozy evenings by the fire.

Where ours—if ours is even the right word—is European and formal, his is cozy and comfortable.

The lighting from the story-and-a-half peaked windows is perfect. I bet snow days are magical.

The door clicks closed behind me as Cian says, “Okay.” Eleanor is immediately next to me, bumping her nose under the hand hanging at my side.

“Hi, girl. I promised you we’d play, but give me a minute, okay?” I stare around the light-colored room. Creams and grays offset with rich deep blue and black. Pale floors and blonde wood kitchen. It’s so light and airy where mine feels rustic and heavy.

“Ci.” It comes out as a breath as I take in his house. “I love this. It’s so you.”

“Thanks.” The answer comes out half as a question.

I turn back to witness my brother and Christian exchange a look.

“What?” The question explodes out of me, my earlier melancholy replaced with anger. “What?”—I repeat, pointing between the two of them—“Was that look for?”

Cian looks stricken and throws his hands on his head. It’s the international sign for defeat… Every sports fan has seen it or done it.

“I— I forgot, okay? I forgot. The memory stuff is easy to forget at times. You’re so…

you. And then I forget that you’ve never been here or met Eleanor.

Even though you have.” His speech is getting faster and faster, like he wants to get it all out before I cut him off.

His hands leave his head to flop at his side.

“I haven’t forgotten, Ayla, but I forgot.

I’m not proud of it. It just hit me again is all. ”

“Oh.” All that and I have exactly one word for him. Oh.

I turn my gaze to Christian. He hikes a brow, saying nothing, as if he wasn’t one half of their silent communication.

I’m sure my eyes slice to slits before I decide not to poke the bear and, instead, turn to Eleanor.

I slide a hand from her nose to her spine.

“Where are your toys? Boys are stupid, and we need to stick together.”

She doesn’t answer me, but I’ve made my point with the men. I walk fully into the living room almost to the wall of windows and plop into a deep wide chair and swivel it to the view.

It takes an extra second or two before a chocolate fur missile launches for me.

It is graceful on her part, but not mine, and I squeal as she soars.

Kisses to my chin and a few circles over my lap and hip, and Eleanor settles at my side, her sweet face on my lap, in perfect position for receiving pets.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” I stroke her fur and watch the shadows dance as the Firs sway in the fall breeze. It’s downright hypnotizing.

Soon, the light snores from my lap tell me the dog is asleep. I’ve allowed the sound to lull my frustration, letting it seep out of my body. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m frustrated as hell. And maybe worst of all, I’m confused.

Emotions I can handle.

The unknown, the unknowable—that’s a wholly different matter.

Are people always talking behind my back?

Am I always the butt of some unknown joke?

Worse, am I in danger and don’t know it?

It’s too much. Being scared isn’t my thing.

It’s never been my thing. I’ve watched horror movies since I was a teenager and never struggled.

I read psychological thrillers and sleep just fine.

But the unknown in my life, wondering if I should be afraid … well, that’s a whole other matter.

I watch the shadows dance on the stone outside the window. They retreat, and the sun pushes through the tree limbs to erode the darkness. The constant tango of light and dark plays before my eyes and in my heart.

“Ayla?”

Cian plops in the chair at my side, and Eleanor raises her head to look at him, her tail slowly brushing the inside of the chair.

I hold his gaze and pet her once more. A satisfied huff comes from her as she curls back into her nap.

“Lunch is almost ready.”

“Already?”

“It’s been almost an hour. Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to—” He looks at the floor before lasering his gaze on mine. “I wasn’t making fun. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just forgot that you wouldn’t remember being here before when you arrived. I’m not proud of it. And I’m sorry.”

My brother is incredible. He’s kind and funny and genuine. But he’s also my sarcastic big brother, so this sincere apology surprises me.

“I get it, Ci. I’m living it, so I get it.”

He looks at Eleanor in my lap. “She’s not usually this way with you. Or maybe you’re not this way with her. She’s usually far more playful, but you seem pensive.”

I nod but don’t explain. I can’t explain.

He stands and extends a hand.

I look to the sleeping pup in my lap before looking back to him. “I’ll disturb her. ”

He whistles, and Eleanor pops up and leaps over the arm of the chair to stand at attention. “You were saying?”

“Show off.” It comes off as a mumble but we both know the humor in it. I accept his proffered hand, and he yanks, taking me off my feet until I stumble into his side.

Cian wraps me in a hug and places a kiss to the top of my head. “Glad you’re here, Ayla.”

With a quick squeeze, he releases me and heads to the huge kitchen island covered in food where Christian sits, his eyes boring into mine. He pats the chair next to him. Invitation or order, I don’t know, but I’m smarter than to pick another fight today.

I sit on the bar stool as Cian moves around the other side of the island.

“Dad came by this morning, Ci,” I say apropos of nothing. “He accused Christian of using me to get to him.”

The room freezes and if it weren’t for Eleanor snuffling around the floor for crumbs, there would be no sound in the room at all.

Cian stares.

Christian clenches his jaw.

And I watch.

It would be the perfect moment to observe if a growl didn’t rip from Eleanor’s throat as she bolts for the kitchen window, barking as if her life depends on it. Sure as shit, there’s a mountain lion prowling across the stone terrace.

They’re not uncommon, though I wish they weren’t this close to my brother’s home.

It stops. Stares right through the window as if I’m a princess in a fable and it’s leveling truths through some unspoken bond.

Two long blinks later, it stalks away, ruining my bomb-dropping moment and leaving me worried for Eleanor’s safety.