"I can't." I confess with a shaky voice.
"Then try harder," his voice is deep and spiked with venom. He's never spoken to me like this, and I ache for the man that's been nothing but sweet and comforting to me for the past seventeen years. I've never been the target of his anger and I'm not liking this side of him at all.
Tears start to roll down my cheeks and I wipe at them, annoyed that I can't control my emotions. I don't want him to perceive me as a little girl having a tantrum.
"Wow. Maybe Sydni and Lisa were right about what they said to you. You can't communicate at all."
He takes a few steps away, his fists clenched at his sides, then comes back to face me.
"Don't even throw that shit in my face. This is completely fucking different. You better watch where you're treading, Kenzi. You may not like where you end up."
I cringe away from his fury. "I'm sorry. I just want you to talk to me."
"Look, what happened was a mistake and I'm sorry it's got your head all messed up, but we both need to just forget it. It was wrong and it's making me sick thinking about it, let alone talking about it."
His words are like a slap to my face and a knife straight through my heart. "I make you feel sick?" I ask in disbelief.
"No, Angel, not like that," his voice softens as he realizes how harsh he's acting. "It's just wrong. You're only seventeen for God's sake."
"So?" I sniffle.
He smiles in wonder at me. "So?" he repeats, letting out a little laugh.
I nod. "Yeah, so?"
Pulling me into his chest, he hugs me and kisses the top of my head, just as he did when I was a little girl. "That's such a you answer. I don't want to fight, Kenzi. Not with you, not ever. But you gotta let this go. I'm sorry I let this happen. I'm just fucked up sometimes."
"You're not fucked up," I say defensively into his chest.
He slowly pulls away and looks down into my eyes, his full of turmoil. "I am. And now you're seeing it firsthand, and I fucking hate it. I liked it when you looked at me like I was some kind of hero who made everything in the world all better for you."
"But you do. You always have."
Smiling weakly, he shakes his head and swipes his thumbs across my damp cheeks. "I can't stand to see you cry. Please let this go, I'm begging you. Can you do that? For me?"
Nodding tearfully, I say yes. Because I'll do anything for him.
But I know I'm not going to be able to let this go. I'll never forget how it felt to be kissed by him. If I live to be a hundred, I still won't forget or let it go.
12
Kenzi
Kenzi ~ age seven
Toren ~ age twenty-two
Sydni is sitting on my lap and we're making out in a dark corner of Asher's apartment when I feel something tugging on my leg. Pulling away from Sydni's lips, I look down to see Kenzi staring at me with wide eyes.
I wipe Sydni's red lipstick off my lips with the back of my hand as I'm being scrutinized by a seven year old. "Hey kiddo, shouldn't you be in bed?"
"Why?"
"Because it's late and your mom and dad have friends over."
"So?"
"I know I saw your mom put you to bed."
"I couldn't sleep," she turns her narrowed gaze towards Sydni. "Why is she on your lap? I sit on your lap. Nobody else."
Sydni laughs and snakes her arm around my neck. "Kenzi, honey, you should go back to bed. Do you want me to find your mommy? I think she's in the kitchen."
Kenzi glares at her. "No. Thank you," she holds a piece of paper out to me. "I drew this for you Uncle Tor."
Smiling, I shift Sydni off me and take the piece of paper from Kenzi's hand. She's drawn a black heart with a scribble in the middle and with the new calligraphy pen I gave her, she's written "Uncle Tor, I love you the most. Love, Kenzi" and her words actually look really good even though they're a little crooked. I can tell she's been practicing.
"This is beautiful, Angel. Look how pretty your letters came out."
She beams at me. "I did the swash like you showed me in the book."
"I see that. I'm going to keep it forever."
"Really? You promise?"
"I promise."
Kenzi
"Why do I need a website? I have Facebook."
Chloe sighs at me and doesn't take her eyes off her laptop screen. I'm perched next to her at the desk in her bedroom, watching her fingers fly over the keyboard.
"Facebook isn't the internet, Kenzi. I mean, yeah it's great for socializing and you can use it for a place for customers to find you and see your work, but you really want a website to showcase your portfolio so you look like a real professional. I can even add an order form."
I chew my lip as I stare at her screen. "Are you sure? I doubt I'll get many orders, Chloe."
"I think you're wrong. Look at this list we made of things you can do with your calligraphy instead of just handwritten invitations. The tattoos and the custom handwritten wall art is awesome. Trust me, it'll start out slow and then it will take off."
"If you say so," I appreciate her confidence in me, I'm just not sure myself yet if people will actually pay for my calligraphy. It's taken her two weeks to convince me to let her design a website for me. She seems excited to have the project to work on since she's going to college soon for marketing and graphic design. So in a way, I'm sorta her guinea pig, which I don't mind at all.
"By the end of the week I'll have this all up and running for you," she assures me. "You'll love it, it will look great."
"I trust you. In the meantime, I'll send you some pictures of my work so you can add them when you're ready."
She shuts her laptop lid and turns to me. "Okay, girl. Tell me what your plans are for the summer. Are you going to Maine to stay with your aunt? I really wish you were coming to New York with me. I just don't get why you won't go to college. You're smart, and it'd be crazy fun. Do you have any idea how many new people you'd meet? New York City is freakin' amazing. And with your dad’s connections, we could get into all the cool clubs."
I push my hair out of my face, tired of having this same conversation with everyone for the past two months. "I just don't think it's for me. I don't have that inner drive in me to want to go to college, or party, or start some kind of career, or get away from my family. I honestly don't know why."
She tilts her head at me thoughtfully. "Maybe your parents dragged you around too much when you were younger. I think that made you just want to stay in one place. For some people, it would do the opposite, where they'd want to keep traveling as much as possible since that's what they're used to. It seems like it had the opposite effect on you. I think you need to feel settled. There's nothing wrong with that, though, Kenz."
I nod slowly, taking that in. "I think you're right. I just want calm and quiet, and a sense of security and home."
"You better at least come visit me. You can't just stay in this tiny town and wither away. You have to get out sometimes."
"Of course, I'll visit. I'm going to miss you like crazy. It's not that far, though. I could drive, or even fly."
"We can shop our asses off when you visit."
"We definitely will," I agree. I don't know anyone who loves to shop as much as Chloe does, and every time we go shopping, she insists on buying some ridiculously random thing that she will never, ever use, and then she'll wrap one of those things up in the gaudiest wrapping paper she can find and give it to me on my birthday. It's a silly joke she started when we were younger, and now I look forward to it every year.
"I'm not sure if I'm going to Maine this year or not," I say as Chloe starts to put bright pink nail polish on her nails. She'll probably want to do mine next, and I will inevitably smudge at least three nails by the time I get home.
"Why? I thought you loved going there." Every year for the past six years I've spent summer break in Maine with my mom's older sister, Katherine, who owns and runs a Bed and Breakfast in a beautiful Victorian house right by the water. This year I'm just not sure I want to be away for almost three months, especially since Chloe will be leaving for college soon, and my father will be going on tour in the Fall.
My cell phone beeps with a text, and when I see his name on my screen, my heart jumps in that new way that it does every time he texts me.
It's been a week since the talk we had in his back yard about the collision, and that night I changed his name in my contacts from Uncle Tor to Tor. I knew in my heart I was never going to call him my uncle again. Not after I knew what it felt like to be kissed by him, and not after the daydreams I've been having about him. Seeing the dream version of us was like looking into a crystal ball, and I saw our relationship in a new way that now I couldn't forget. It also forced me to face several unexpected truths. I'm insanely attracted to him physically and mentally. I want to take care of him, and I want to be the person who makes him smile every day. I don't want him to be any sort of uncle to me or be my dad's best friend. I want him to be mine. Thinking back, I can't deny that some of these feelings started to grow in me a very long time ago, like a seed that's been slowly blossoming over the years, growing as we grew together. For as far back as I can remember, I've always wanted to be close to him and now it's evolved into something far beyond friendship and guardianship.
I'm not entirely delusional. I know I shouldn't be thinking of him in that way. I was raised thinking of him as my uncle and he is my Godfather. Those memories can't be wiped away from our history. He's my dad's best friend. He's almost twice my age. But with each day that passes, those facts seem less valid to me, and the feelings I'm having for him are becoming much stronger than fake titles and age differences. It's undeniable; our feelings for each other have changed. I know it, and I know he knows it. I just don't know what to do about it.