Bedful of Moonlight by Raven Held (best ereader for pc TXT) 📖

navigating his way to our lunch venue required all his attention. “I mean, I wouldn’t know what’s odd and what isn’t, of course, but seeing as how little I know about you, I was just wondering –”
“There’s nothing to wonder about. Hyde passes stupid little comments like this all the time. Most of them don’t make any sense.”
“But did it involve your dad?”
He stopped. When I followed suit, I found myself panting slightly. I was not aware of us walking so briskly.
“I would have thought you of all people should know when to keep your questions to yourself and mind your own business.”
I stared at him, feeling something start to rumble in my chest. “You don’t think I know what this is about, do you?”
He said nothing, but looked away, sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“Your fixation to make things back to the way it was between me and my mom, it’s all just so we can focus on my problems, and leave yours alone.”
“Well, it’s not my fault your psychotic behaviour gave everything away. I wouldn’t have learnt about your boyfriend’s death if you’d just kept your antics to yourself.”
Blood rushed to my face as I heard a heavy thudding in my ears. “So that’s what you think I was doing?” My voice was shaky. “Displaying my antics?”
He rubbed his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His ears were red as well. “Kristen, let’s not do this.”
“Let’s not talk about that, then.” People were starting to watch; they just paused whatever they were doing – mounting their bikes or munching on their bagels – and stood there comfortably as though a movie was unravelling before them. This was probably not the best place to do this, but I went on nonetheless, “You think I’m not being fair by not telling you about myself, but what, really, have you told me about yours? You don’t demand to know about people within the first week of knowing them; they tell you when they begin to trust you.”
“Okay, so I suck at this whole making friends thing. Now can we just go? People are staring.” He tugged on my elbow, and when I did not move, he pulled me along more forcefully.
After a long while of walking, the ground burning beneath my feet, we arrived at somewhere quieter.
Caleb took me by my shoulders. “What is your problem, Kristen?”
“I don’t have one.”
He snorted. “I’m sure you don’t. That’s probably why you just picked a fight with me in the middle of the street back there.”
“I just don’t want anyone else digging around for my back story. So I’m messed up. Does that make me everyone’s problem? I just think it’s funny how you’re so concerned about me forgiving my mother, while you shed nothing about your father. This whole ‘Gabriel is a decent guy’ thing? You didn’t think I bought that for one moment, did you?”
“How is that any of your problem?”
“How is Blake’s death any of yours?”
His jaw clenched. “Just stay out of my business, and I’ll keep clear of yours.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Neither of us said anything after that.
Maybe we both needed that. Maybe we both needed to get it all out of our system. Like Caleb said, it was way healthier than letting it stew inside, right?
“Take a left after the 7 Eleven,” he said finally, his voice low. “Head straight and then turn right. You’ll see the post office. The restaurant’s just directly across the street. I’ve got to get back.”
After he left, the stirring silence in that sunny street swelled around me until it became so oppressive I started walking.

*

My anger made the world seem dizzying and all too bright. Wroughton, like I had first thought the moment I entered, was entirely a world of its own. Nothing seemed real, especially not when you were so upset you couldn’t even see straight.
The truth was, I did not even know why I brought up his father. I did not even know why I had expected him to tell me about something as personal as his family. It was his dogged interference in my problems that pissed me off, I suppose. The way he kept telling me to give my mother another chance when he hardly knew her and so had no business saying anything about anything. He made it seem like such a huge deal just so I wouldn’t notice the absence of his father and the way no one ever spoke about him.
But then it all came back to why I thought I had the right to know anything about him and give him my two cents worth.
When I finally managed to push all the confusion to the back of my mind, I stopped walking and stared around me.
What was it that I was supposed to have passed by? There were no shops around, just the last few houses at the end of an unfamiliar-sounding Highmont Lane. If I walked any further, I’d be even more lost than I already was. It was only a narrow road and more trees ahead, and in the distance there was the sound of waves rushing to shore.
The thing about Wroughton was that everything here looked the same. The identical houses sat in a row along a narrow road lined with trees and bright flowers.
Also, it did not help that so far, the only places I had been to were the Old Belle, the house, and the cemetery.
I didn’t trust the residents here well enough to start knocking on their doors, so I pulled out my cellphone. To hell with pride, I was calling Caleb for help.
He picked up at the first ring. “What?”
“I think I’m lost.”
I could hear him trying not to laugh. “Okay. Describe your surroundings. Is there a street name?”
“I’m at the end of Highmont Lane. It’s near the sea.”
There was a brief pause, and then he said, “Wait there, don’t move. I’m on my way.” It was the hint of urgency in his voice that made me frown as I hung up.
Rather than sit there and let my brain fester with my thoughts, I tried to look for a way out myself. At least I wouldn’t be that lost when Caleb found me if I managed to get out of this lane.
There was the distant sound of footsteps behind me. When I turned around, there was a rustle, and then the bushes shook violently. It was vaguely like something from a bad spy movie.
I walked over to the bush. “Look, whoever you are, I’m not in the mood for your little spy game, alright?”
“Are you lost?”
The man who had just appeared out of nowhere seemed highly amused by my scream. His eyes also kept darting to the row of houses as though he was afraid of what they might see.
“Who are you? Did you just come out of there?” I pointed to the bushes.
He stared at me as though I was crazy. “No.”
Could it be that I had imagined all that? I have been told I was borderline crazy, after all.
“Are you lost?” he repeated.
He was old enough to be my dad, but even though his clothes were clean enough not to qualify him as a vagrant, his unshaven face looked slightly worse for wear. Or maybe he was just going for the scruffy Josh Holloway look.
“I – yes, I think so.” I turned to look at the row of houses, since he kept glancing nervously in that direction. “Who are you?”
“Never mind that,” he said. “For now, I’m your saviour. I’ll walk you to Ruth’s Garden – that’s the nursery – and you’ll find your way from there. But we should just” – he started steering me towards the path further away from the houses.
The smell of sea salt hit me before I stepped away from him. “I don’t think so.” He did not seem to expect that answer. “I mean, I don’t even know who you are. And leading me here is not exactly making me trust you more.”
He nodded. “Fair point. Look, I’m just trying to help –”
“I have called for help. He’s on the way.”
The man smiled knowingly. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll go back to –”
“Kristen?”
Both of us turned. I practically ran to him.
“Thought I told you to stay where –” He tensed briefly when he saw who was with me.
I gestured briefly at the man. “I ran into him. He offered to help me get out of here.”
Caleb looked at the man. “Thank you, sir,” he said stiffly, “but that wasn’t necessary.”
“That’s alright,” the man said with a placid smile. “I was just passing by. Thought I’d lend a hand.”
Caleb took my hand. “We’ll get going now.”
“If you need any rescuing again,” the man said pleasantly, “you know where to find me.”
I felt a firm tug on my hand. “Let’s go, Kristen.” As we turned and walked away, he flung a glare over his shoulders.
“I thought Wroughton was supposed to be safe,” I said, once we were well beyond his earshot. “Doesn’t that include being safe from creepy old pervs like him?”
Caleb just stared stonily ahead.
“He didn’t do anything to me, Caleb. It’s fine.”
“He’d better not have.”
“Have you seen him around before? He doesn’t live here, does he?”
He shrugged stiffly, and I took the hint.
We walked for a while with my hand resting comfortably, absently, in his. Soon, we were out of Highmont Lane and the nursery called Ruth’s Garden was in sight.
“Caleb, about just now….”
I meant to tell him I was sorry about just now, but he beat me to it. “If you’re going to apologise, don’t. Because we know we both acted a little crazy back there. Right now, we just need some fuel so we don’t go for each other’s throats again.”
He was right. So I kept my mouth shut and my hand in his as we made our way through the winding streets of Wroughton.


Fifteen


“No one can lie, no one can hide anything, when he looks directly into someone's eyes.”
~ Paulo Coelho (Brazilian writer, 1947 – present)


We were fifteen minutes late when we arrived at the restaurant called Ristrot’s. Plus, someone else was there.
“Dad?”
The two men turned. My father was looking more pinched than ever. “Hey, Kristen.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Joining you for lunch.” He reached over to pat my arm.
“Sorry we’re late. Kristen took an accidental detour along the way,” Caleb said, raising his brows at me.
Dr Tang stood up and said, “Better late than never.” He stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you again, Kristen.”
“There’s no need for informalities, Jason,” dad said. As the waiter handed me and Caleb our menus, dad said, “Jason was just telling me how the oyster linguine here is a must-try.”
I bet that was all they were talking about.
“If it’s inconvenient, I’ll leave,” Caleb said. “I mean, I don’t want to intrude –”
Dad shook his head. “Nonsense. You’re in this as much as I am, Caleb. You’ve taken care of my daughter so much this past week I don’t even know how to thank you. You’re staying for lunch with us. My treat.”
I was feeling too antsy to concentrate on lunch or the ambience here, so we hurriedly made our orders. Dr Tang apparently felt the same way too, for he got straight to the point.
“This is an informal session, Kristen. There’s no need to be so nervous. Why don’t you