“God, you’re pissed enough that you’re not even talking!” Luke moved closer on the railroad tie to get a better look at my face. “I’ve really put my foot in it now, haven’t I? I don’t even know what I said.”
My voice was half the strength it was supposed to be, which I hated. How in the world had he reduced me to tears? “I—I’m just so tired of people telling me how talented I am. I’d like to be amazing even if I was the most untalented person in the world. All anybody ever sees when they see me is the stupid harp. They never see who I really am.”
Luke reached up a thumb and gently swiped away the single tear that had managed to escape. “Don’t cry, pretty girl. Who you really are is why you’re so good at everything. You won’t let yourself be otherwise. And that’s what fascinates me.”
Part of me wanted his hand to linger on my face, but pride and embarrassment made me knock it away. Fragile wasn’t an image I liked to wear. “I don’t normally cry. I mean, unless I’m frustrated. I feel so—” I struggled for words and for dignity.
He said softly, “Your ice cream’s melting.”
Relieved, I turned back to my cone. We sat in silence for long moments, finishing our ice cream. Then I said, without looking at him, “If I still fascinate you, you can study me for a while. But I won’t be ‘practice.’”
“Thank you.” He wrestled his keys from his back pocket and laid them on his leg, swallowing the last of his cone.
Without thinking first, I asked, “Is that a key for every secret?” Immediately I feared I’d violated our unspoken agreement, and that he would vanish in a poof of smoke.
But he didn’t seem concerned by the question. Instead, he smiled vaguely and said, “Possibly. How many keys do you have?”
“Two.”
“Is that how many secrets you have?”
I thought about it. One for the clover on the bedside stand. One for the way I felt about Luke. “Yes.”
His fingers toyed with his keys. “Would you like another?”
I didn’t answer, but I watched him slide a key from his too-full ring. It was a small, heavy, old-fashioned key, with a spot of rust on one side. He glanced around as if someone might care what we were doing, and then pushed the iron key into my hand. Putting his lips right up against my ear, his breath hotter than the summer day, he whispered, “Here is another secret: I have no business being fascinated by you.”
His lips almost formed into a kiss. Then he pulled away quickly and stood up. I was dizzy and had to close my eyes for a moment to reorient myself. I put the key in my pocket.
Holding out a hand, Luke pulled me to my feet and led me to the other side of the car, his eyes distant and his face preoccupied.
Before he shut the passenger door behind me, I briefly smelled a snatch of herbal fragrance in the summer air, quite apart from Luke’s odor or the usual asphalt stench of Dave’s parking lot. And then I realized I did have a third secret to go with my key: there was some sort of danger gathering around me. But I wasn’t afraid.
“Oh, Granna’s here.” I peered over the dashboard as Luke pulled into the driveway. Her white Ford was so bright in the noon sun that I couldn’t look directly at it. “Mom must’ve invited her over for my birthday.”
“Birthday?” Luke switched off the car. “Today?”
“Actually yesterday, but I get cake today.” I tried to keep the hopeful edge out of my voice. “Want to stay for it?”
“Hmm.” Luke got out of the car and came around to open my door. “I shouldn’t. It does sound terribly interesting, though. Will your awful aunt be here?”
I frowned. “She’s already here. She’s doesn’t go home until next week. When her concert tour starts.”
“Very posh.”
I grunted in agreement, and then turned as movement caught my eye: Granna getting out of her car. She immediately caught sight of me and smiled. Then she dove back into her car.
Luke looked puzzled. “Purse?”
“Granna doesn’t carry a purse. She’s not that sort of grandmother. Probably presents.”
Sure enough, Granna emerged holding an impossibly small, wrapped package in one hand and a gigantic one in the other. “Could you take one of these, Deirdre?”
I jumped out of the car and hurried to take the larger one from her. Hanging back at my elbow, Luke moved restlessly, like a wolf.
“This is Luke, Granna.” I stepped to the side. “He played in the competition yesterday.”
Luke stilled and held out a hand, formally. “How do you do.”
Granna let him take her right hand, and he kissed it—a gesture, oddly enough, that seemed both natural and appropriate.
“Do you see this, young man?” Granna held up her left hand, where a dull, silver-colored ring and a gold wedding band sat together on her still-strong ring finger.
Luke smiled wanly. “I do, ma’am.”
I frowned at them.
Granna thrust the small package into Luke’s face, her voice lowered as if I weren’t standing right beside him. “What do you think she’s getting from me for her birthday present, eh? And what are you doing here again?”
I looked to Luke for his answer, hoping for some clue as to what this conversation was about, but he stayed silent, just looking at Granna.
“Don’t you even think of it.” Granna took a step closer to him. I had the sense of a small dog barking at a sleeping lion.
“Hey,” I started, not even sure what I ought to say to diffuse this weirdly combative situation.
Luke spoke as if I hadn’t, sounding humble. “I’m just here for a little while, ma’am.”
Granna’s voice was sharp. “Good. Then go back where you belong.”
“I’m not one of Them,” he said plaintively.
“I can smell Them on you. You reek of it.”
Luke turned from Granna to me, his expression flat. “I don’t think I’ll be staying for cake.”
Furiously, I turned my shoulder toward Granna and crossed my arms. “You don’t have to go.” Just because Granna had to stick her nose into it. Ruin everything. I was so angry with her I was afraid I would say something I’d regret. I could feel her eyes boring into my back.
Luke glanced at Granna again. “I think it’s better this way. Thanks for the ice cream.”
“Luke.” I couldn’t even think of what to say. All that was in my head was damn it, why does everyone else control my life? “Don’t go.”