Susan Mallery - Hold Me

“Fine.” Starr put down her iPad. “I was reading.”

“Have you been out today?”

Starr shook her head.

Destiny might not have a family yet, but she knew that a fifteen-year-old cooped up in a strange house for days at a time wasn’t good. It wouldn’t be good even if the house wasn’t strange. Kids needed to be going and doing. Making friends.

Destiny let her small backpack fall to the floor, then sat on the chair kitty-corner to the sofa and held out the material Mayor Marsha had given her.

“I had an interesting meeting this afternoon,” she said, determined not to mention the fact that the mayor had known way more than she should about Destiny’s personal life and her nonexistent relationship with her half sister.

“It turns out there’s a summer camp in town. Or maybe up in the mountains. I haven’t read all the information yet. But it’s close, and I thought it might be fun for you.”

The wariness never left Starr’s eyes. “Why?”

“There are kids your age there. And different classes. Drama, singing, music. You’d be outdoors. That’s better than being stuck in here.”

Given the choice, Destiny always preferred to be outside. She wasn’t sure if she’d been that way before she’d gone to live with Grandma Nell, but she certainly was after. The sky seemed to beckon her. Trees were tall friends who provided protection and shade on a hot, sunny day. There were a thousand discoveries to be made and the magic of the music Mother Nature created with rustling leaves or the call of birds.

Starr took the offered brochure and opened it. “I’d like to study drama,” she admitted. “And music.” She looked up. “Get better on the guitar.”

There was no accusation in the statement. Just fact. Which didn’t prevent Destiny from squirming. The day she’d picked her half sister up at the airport, Starr had asked if Destiny could help her learn to play her guitar better. She’d admitted to being self-taught and frustrated by a lack of instruction. Destiny had lied and said that she didn’t play much and couldn’t help.

Two weeks later, the lie still sat heavy on her shoulders. Music had been as much a part of her upbringing as breathing. Given who her parents were, it was inevitable, she supposed. She’d been playing a child-size guitar before she could read, and by the time she was six, she’d added piano to her skill set.

Nearly twelve years ago she’d made the decision to put that part of her life behind her. To focus on what she saw as the normal world. She rarely played anymore and did her best to ignore the lyrics that bubbled up inside her head. Sometimes she gave in and spent a long afternoon playing and writing. Usually, that was enough to get it out of her system until the next time the feeling overwhelmed her.

She told herself that she had the right to make that decision. That she didn’t owe Starr that piece of herself. And while that might be technically true, she knew she shouldn’t have lied about it.

“I looked,” Destiny said with a smile. “There are guitar classes. Piano, too, if you’re interested.”

“Do you play piano?”

“I used to.”

“You don’t have one in the house.”

No, she had a portable keyboard with a great set of headphones instead. It was tucked under her bed.

“I move around too much to have a piano,” she said with a shrug. “It would be tough to bring a piano on a plane as my carry-on.”

Starr’s full mouth pulled up slightly. Not a complete smile, but closer than she’d gotten before, Destiny thought.

“I think the camp would be fun for you. I know it’s tough being away from your school friends. There have to be a couple of cool kids in town, right?”

“I don’t hang out with the cool kids,” Starr told her. “But I’d like to make some friends.”

“Great. Then look that over and tell me what you think.”

Starr nodded. She didn’t ask about the cost. Jimmy Don’s lawyer had explained there’d been a life insurance policy on Starr’s mother, and the money from that had been put into a trust. Their dad had kicked in some, as well. No doubt the teen assumed her expenses would be paid from that.

While Destiny knew that legally she could take money from the trust, she didn’t want to. She would cover the cost of the camp herself, just like she planned to pay for Starr’s living expenses. They were family. Sort of. At the very least, they were related, and that counted.

“Come on,” she said as she stood. “You can read about the camp while I start dinner.”

They went into the kitchen. Starr settled at the small kitchen table while Destiny pulled out the ingredients for fried chicken. As she opened the refrigerator, she saw a few unfamiliar casserole dishes.

“Did you cook?” she asked.

“No. A couple of ladies came by with them. There’s instructions on heating them. They both look good.”

Destiny glanced at the labels. One simply said lasagna , with suggestions on warming in both the oven and the microwave. The other label said it was Denise’s Many Layered Tamale Pie . Destiny was pretty sure she hadn’t met anyone named Denise, but that didn’t matter. Small-town folks took care of each other. Anything noteworthy brought out the casserole brigade.

“We can have these for lunch,” she said. “If that’s okay with you.”

“Sure.”

She dumped flour, salt, pepper and paprika into a large plastic bag. After washing off the chicken, she patted it dry and then soaked it in buttermilk for a few seconds before putting the pieces in with the flour. A couple of shakes later, the chicken was coated. She set the pieces on a plate. The trick to really good fried chicken was hot oil and letting the flour mixture get a little gooey.

As she waited, she glanced at Starr. The teen read the camp information intently.

There was a stillness about her. Or maybe it was just sadness. Starr’s young life hadn’t been easy. She rarely saw her father; her mother had been in and out of rehab and had eventually died of an overdose. Now Starr lived at a boarding school. She had no grandparents, and all her siblings were either half or step and total strangers.

Destiny’s guilt returned, but this time for a different reason. She needed to make time for Starr, she thought. They had this summer together. They could get to know each other.

She supposed that in a lot of families, half sisters would already be friends. But not in hers, and that was because her father couldn’t resist a beautiful woman, Destiny thought grimly. Jimmy Don loved the ladies, and they loved him back. Over and over. He’d married young and often, divorcing and remarrying again and again. Not that her mother was any different. Lacey Mills was on her seventh husband. Or maybe her eighth. It was difficult to keep track.

Destiny was Jimmy Don and Lacey’s firstborn. She’d been witness to the early years of their relationship. She’d grown up with the screaming, the plate throwing, the drama. She’d learned early to get out of the way when tempers flared and that the good times were always temporary. She’d vowed to be different. She wanted a calm, quiet, practical marriage. No great highs or lows for her. She was looking for a man she could respect and have children with. Not one that got her heart beating faster.

Her determination was the reason she avoided the Kipling Gilmores of the world. Sure, he was a handsome devil with an easy smile and a charming way about him. She was sure that he knew things that could make her beg. But she didn’t want to beg. She didn’t want to yearn, lust, dream or even long. She wanted certainty. A solid, dependable, comfortable kind of love.

Sex was the root of all evil. She’d learned that early, too. She’d never let herself be swept away, which was a point of pride for her. No hormone was more powerful than her determination, and nothing about that was ever going to change.