Hummingbird Lane

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Hummingbird Lane Page 25

by Brown, Carolyn


  “You need to pick up your brushes and get busy, not go into a depression like I did all those years,” Emma said.

  “I can’t, Em. Whatever this is started on the way home in the airplane, and I can’t shake it,” Sophie said.

  “Let’s eat all these cookies and watch a movie. Neither of us can sleep anyway. We don’t have a man in our beds,” Emma told her.

  “You want to explain that?” Sophie asked.

  “Not tonight. Maybe later,” Emma replied as she turned on the television and put the first season of Castle into the DVD player. She hoped that would cheer Sophie up a bit.

  It didn’t work, but just as the sixth episode ended, Sophie fell asleep on the sofa. Emma threw a blanket over her, went to her bedroom, and pulled the spread off the bed. She tucked it under one arm and a pillow under the other. She tiptoed back to the living room and made a pallet on the floor right beside the sofa. When Sophie groaned, Emma reached a hand up and laid it on her shoulder.

  “It’s all right. I’m right here,” she whispered. This was the first time that Emma had had to be the strong one, and she hoped she was doing a decent job of helping her friend. Even though she was sad for Sophie, it was an amazing feeling to be needed. She wasn’t an expert on relationships, but she could be there for her one hundred percent.

  The clock on the stove said that it was after ten when Sophie awoke. Rebel used to say that everything, no matter what it was, looked better in the light of day. She was wrong this time. Nothing was better.

  With a long sigh, she started to get up and realized that Emma was sleeping on the floor right beside the sofa. Anyone who would sleep beside her on the floor was a friend indeed. Suddenly, tears were flowing down Sophie’s cheeks again. She didn’t deserve a friend like Emma, one who would give up sleep and then stay right by her side the whole night through. After the way she had felt about the baby that she lost, she didn’t deserve anything. Her negative feelings had caused her to lose the baby. Maybe she shouldn’t be with Teddy after all.

  “My baby would have been a happy child. He would have had Rebel for a grandmother, and once I got over the shock, I could have cleaned houses with you and worked nights on my art.” Sophie eased off the sofa and made her way to her bedroom, where she crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over her head. Just saying that out loud made her a little less sad.

  Her phone pinged, so she reached out with a hand and felt around on the nightstand until she located it. When she had a hold on it, she brought it under the covers to discover several messages and two missed calls from Teddy.

  She dried her wet cheeks on the sheet and called him.

  “Are we okay?” Teddy asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “You’re saying the words, but your tone isn’t agreeing with them,” he told her. “I can be there in a few hours.”

  “No, don’t. I don’t deserve for you to love me or to come down here and comfort me. I don’t even deserve to know someone like you. Do you even realize that there must be something wrong with you to want to spend the rest of your life with someone like me?”

  “Good God, Sophie!” he said.

  She could imagine him running his fingers through his hair.

  “What’s gotten into you? Have you lost your mind? We were so happy right up until I left. This is more than a fight about a sofa. What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

  “Nothing is wrong with me. I just need to be alone,” she said and ended the call.

  She turned the phone off and laid it on the bedside table. She could call her mother, but Rebel would throw a suitcase in her car and be there by suppertime. Sophie couldn’t face her, not with these feelings that had come over her.

  “Would I have been that way with my baby? Would I have been a smothering mama?” she whispered as she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

  Three sets of eyes full of questions met Emma when she went to the supper table that evening. She wasn’t sure what to tell them. In what should have been the happiest time of her life, Sophie had hit rock bottom. She hadn’t been out of bed all day, except to go to the bathroom. She hadn’t eaten a single bite of food, and when Emma tried to talk her into getting out of bed and going to supper, she refused.

  Arty said a quick grace and then raised an eyebrow toward Emma.

  “I don’t know what to do for her,” Emma said. “She’s always been the strong one. Now all she will say is that she doesn’t deserve to be happy. She and Teddy are fighting over something as silly as which sofa to take to their new house. She had a great showing and sold a lot of pictures, but that didn’t make her happy. I don’t know what happened or how to fix it, but I feel like it’s up to me to take care of it.”

  “Usually when she comes home from a few days with Teddy, she’s whistling and all fired up about getting back to work,” Josh noted.

  “Is she sick?” Filly asked. “Maybe she’s pregnant.”

  “She’s sick, all right,” Emma said, “but not because of a baby.” She held her plate out for Filly to dip chicken potpie onto it. “I see the signs of deep, major depression. She won’t eat, and she’s holed up in her bedroom under the covers.”

  “You can rescue her like she did you,” Josh suggested.

  Good grief! Emma thought. I’m barely taking baby steps in this hunt to find myself. How can I ever rescue someone as strong as Sophie has always been?

  “How would I do that?” Emma asked. “I can’t imagine being in a better place than right here to heal.”

  “For you,” Arty said. “But Sophie needs to get her own mojo back. She used to disappear into the Big Bend park while she was here, and that seemed to make her happy. Take her there, and don’t come back until she’s healed.”

  “I’ve got a couple of sleeping bags you can use,” Josh offered.

  “I’ll pack food to last a few days,” Filly said.

  “I’ll help Filly with that food idea. We can combine what we’ve got in our trailers so y’all won’t starve,” Arty said. “When are you leaving?”

  Emma felt like a whirlwind had just hit her. She wasn’t sure how to even get to the park, much less camp out for days, or until Sophie got her mojo back, as Arty put it.

  “Who’s going to help me carry her out kicking and screaming?” Emma asked.

  “That part is your job,” Filly answered. “Did you kick and scream when she rescued you?”

  Emma served herself another helping of the chicken potpie. “Not so much, but I was worried about Mother and what she might do.”

  “Well, your job with Sophie is easier than she had with you, then,” Arty said. “Rebel won’t give you any trouble.”

  “What’s in the park?” Emma asked. “Do they have places to buy junk food and stuff like tourists want?”

  “Just mountains, rocks, and lots of cactus,” Josh said. “There’s a small convenience store at a junction. Fuel is expensive in the park, so fill up the gas tank in Sophie’s vehicle before you enter. You can get ice, drinks, and the essentials there, but they close early in the evening. You’ll need to take toilet paper, paper towels, and . . .”

  “What about showers and bathrooms?” Emma asked. She’d just spent the night in a cave, but she couldn’t imagine living like that for days on end.

  “Got several bathrooms along the way, but sometimes they’re out of toilet paper, and they’re mostly outdoor toilets—no flush. They do have picnic tables scattered around,” Josh answered. “A couple of places offer showers, but pack your own soap, of course.”

  There had been a sign on one of Emma’s therapists’ desks that said SOMETIMES WHEN THINGS ARE FALLING APART, THEY ARE ACTUALLY FALLING IN PLACE. Emma had thought about that often, but it never made as much sense as it did that evening. She had been falling apart, and Sophie had arrived to help her. Now it was her turn to help Sophie find her inner strength again.

  Emma took a deep breath and nodded toward Josh. If she had to stay in the desert with no showers for a we
ek and use smelly potties, then that’s exactly what she would do. She owed Sophie that much and more for helping guide Emma back to her own life.

  “All right, then, when should we leave?” Emma asked.

  “As soon as possible. Tomorrow morning would be good. How long did Sophie give you to make up your mind about leaving?” Arty asked as he spooned up a bowl full of peach cobbler.

  “About two minutes,” Emma answered.

  “Then don’t give her more than that,” Filly said.

  “We can start loading the SUV tonight,” Josh said. “Take at least three canvases for her and a few for yourself. Watching her paint was inspiration for you to start, so give her a dose of her own medicine and inspire her with your eagerness to work.”

  Emma finished off her food and then dipped up her own peach cobbler. “I guess we should have it loaded and ready or she’ll make a hundred excuses as to why she can’t go. So how many canvases do you think it will take before she’s cured?”

  “Take four,” Arty said. “Better to have too many than not enough.”

  And she may slice one to ribbons.

  “Good cobbler and great supper, Arty,” Emma said. “Maybe I could take a plate in to see if I can entice Sophie to eat. If she will get up out of bed, maybe we won’t need to leave.”

  Emma knew the moment the words were out of her mouth that wasn’t the case. She had spent the better part of a week hiding in her bed after the rape, and then another week at home before Victoria checked her into the first institution because she couldn’t come out of a deep depression. That’s where she’d learned to say, “I’m fine,” just like Sophie had told her a dozen times. Now that she was on the other end of the conversation, she understood why the therapists never believed her. Saying the words did not mean anything when the tone was graveyard dead.

  Filly got busy loading up a plate with potpie and salad and a bowl with peach cobbler. “If anything will get her up and going, it’ll be food. She loves to eat.”

  “I’m going to box up some grub,” Arty said, “and get out the cooler to put some frozen meat in. To cook over a campfire, all you girls need is a skillet and a coffeepot. I’ve got extra of both.”

  “We’ll have you all loaded up and ready to get out of here by daylight.” Filly began to clean up the table. “She’ll get over this with you by her side.”

  “We’ll miss you girls. When you have reception, we’ll expect a report every evening,” Arty said. “I’ll tuck in my little .22 pistol in case you need it for snakes.”

  “Either two-legged or the slithering kind.” Filly winked.

  “You probably shouldn’t do that. If a two-legged one came sniffing around, I might shoot first and ask questions later,” Emma told him. “Did Filly tell you—”

  Arty slammed a fist into his open hand. “She did, and I just want to know if your mama or daddy killed those sorry bastards.”

  “I didn’t tell them until Mother sent Jeffrey to take me home a few days ago. I told her over the phone, and she responded just like I thought she would. She asked me what I’d done to provoke the attack and called me stupid for being so naive. At the time, I just figured if I ignored it, everything would be all right, but it wasn’t. I haven’t told my father yet, and I don’t know if Mother will even bother to tell him. Sophie and you all have helped me realize that ignoring something doesn’t make it disappear, and now I have to help her see the same thing. No matter what happens to us, we can’t let it define the rest of our lives,” Emma said.

  “Amen to that, sister,” Arty agreed.

  “Your mother said that to you?” Filly laid an arm around Emma’s shoulders. “I shouldn’t talk ugly about your mama, but, honey, that ain’t normal. She should have gone gunnin’ for those sumbitches even after all these years.”

  “Mother isn’t capable of loving anyone but herself—at least that’s the way I see it,” Emma explained.

  “Guess you’re showin’ her that you’re nothing like her, ain’t you, child?” Arty said. “And, honey, I’m still tuckin’ in that little gun. If you have any doubts, you just flick the safety off and shoot! You are not stupid and you’re damn sure not delicate. And that horrible thing that happened to you wasn’t your fault. You are an artist, and that makes you different and special. Don’t ever forget it.”

  “Thanks, Arty.” Emma felt empowered by his words.

  Arty nodded. “You two kids go get the sleeping bags and whatever else Josh can think of. Tuck in her art supplies, and me and Filly will have the food ready to load at dawn.”

  “Thank you.” Emma smiled. “For everything. And if you’ve got any connections”—she rolled her eyes toward the sky—“you might put in a word for me. Other than a night in Josh’s cave, I’ve never spent a night out under the stars.”

  “You’re goin’ to love it,” Josh said. “Even though you need to get her out and painting again, I’ll miss you, Em. Take the food inside and grab Sophie’s keys and an armload of canvases. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”

  His words put an extra beat in Emma’s heart, and knowing that she would be missed sent a surge of happiness through her. “One more time, thank you, Josh,” she said.

  He eased out the door, and she grabbed a fork and carried the food back to Sophie’s room. “Hey, it’s time to wake up and eat something. You’ll be sick if you don’t start—”

  Sophie waved her away with a flick of the wrist. “Go away, I’m fine.”

  “No, you are not,” Emma told her, “but you will be. If this food isn’t eaten by morning, I’ll call Rebel.”

  “I already did,” Sophie said. “I told her I was just fine and that you would take care of me.”

  “Well, since you told her that, then I suppose it’s my job,” Emma said. “Eat your supper.”

  “Later,” Sophie said.

  “Okay, have it your way.” Emma left the room and went straight to her bedroom. She packed a tote bag with two changes of clothing for each of them, took the SUV keys from a hook beside the kitchen door, and headed outside with canvases under one arm and the bag slung over her other shoulder. Josh met her at the back of the car with two sleeping bags and a lantern of some kind that she hoped Sophie knew how to light. She hit the button to open the hatch, and he began to load things.

  “I’m putting these matches”—he held up several small books—“in the glove box. You’ll park close to your campsite, and if it happens to rain, you don’t want them to get wet.”

  “You thought of everything,” she said.

  “I’ve been out in the desert a lot at night,” he explained as he took the bag and canvases from her and loaded them. “I learned by my mistakes. Can I help you carry anything else?”

  “Yes, and thank you.” She nodded.

  “Want to have a beer with me on my back porch when we get done?” he asked.

  She wished that she’d known him before she went to college, that they’d gone to the same high school together and maybe even dated. Everyone knew her story now, and no one seemed to be ready to send her packing for being stupid. Knowing that someone believed in her, and that Josh would miss her even when he knew what had happened, made her feel like she was walking on air.

  “I’d better take a rain check, so I’ll be close if Sophie decides she wants to talk,” she answered.

  “Don’t forget to take your pillow in the morning,” Josh said as they went into the trailer. “Just grab Sophie’s and yours and take her to the vehicle. I’ll put Arty’s and Filly’s stuff inside for you and leave the keys in the ignition. The less you have to do, the more likely you’ll get her out of the house.”

  When they finished taking out the last load, he walked her back to the porch. He brought her hand to his chest and held it over his heart. “Feel that?” he asked.

  In her mind, she could see fireworks all around them. “Feel what?”

  “That’s my heart. It likes you a lot, Em, and it’s going to miss you terribly. Come home to it when you g
et done taking care of Sophie,” he whispered.

  Lord, have mercy! She’d never heard anything so romantic in her whole life. “I will, Josh. I promise.”

  He dropped her hand and cupped her face in his hands; then his lips met hers in a fiery kiss that left her panting when he took a step backward. “Take that with you and know that I’ll be right here waiting for your call each evening.”

  “I’m going to miss you, too,” she whispered.

  He brushed a soft kiss across her forehead. “I hope so, Em. I really, really hope so, and while you are rescuing Sophie, I hope that you find you out there in Big Bend.”

  She floated into the house, checked on Sophie, and took the plate of untouched food to the trash can. Then she took a long, hot shower, since she knew she might not get one for a couple of days. When she crawled into bed, she realized that Josh had really kissed her—and that she wanted more.

  “I feel like the high school student I never got to be,” she giggled.

  Chapter Twenty

  Emma made sure everything was ready and loaded the next morning. Filly had even thought to include two travel mugs of coffee and a box of breakfast bars. All that was left was waking Sophie and demanding that she get dressed. She opened the bedroom door, hoping to find that Sophie was up and getting around, but no such luck. There was the same old heap of covers and nothing else. She tiptoed across the room and picked up Sophie’s phone to find that it had been turned off.

  “Go away,” Sophie said. “If you were my friend, you’d leave me alone.”

  “This is called tough love.” Emma ripped the covers away and tossed them in the corner. “Get up and get dressed.”

  Sophie didn’t even open her eyes. “I’m fine. Go away. I don’t want to eat.”

  Emma untucked the bottom sheet on all four sides, grabbed the edge, and gave it a jerk, landing Sophie on the floor. Her eyes popped wide-open. “Dammit, Em! I said I’m fine. I just need to wallow in guilt for a few days.”

  “You’ve had more than twenty-four hours of wallowing, and that’s enough. Either get dressed or go like you are. It makes no difference to me, but you look like shit.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. “And you might want to wear boots.”

 

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