Oklahoma Sunshine

by Maggie Shayne

  Yeah. Both.

  He poured milk into a pan, and a packet of cocoa mix into a mug. Then he opened his top cupboard for something to spike it with and found bottle of peppermint schnapps that had been there since last Christmas. Perfect.

  He was pouring milk over cocoa when he heard something odd near the front door. Not a knock but…something. He set the milk back in the fridge, and then stood still, head cocked, listening. There was only silence. No owls, no coyotes, not even a stiff wind. It was dead quiet tonight. So he stirred the cocoa with one hand and poured the schnapps with the other, and he heard it again. Scratch, scratch, scratch.

  Picking up his mug, he sipped his way to the front door and opened it.

  A cat rubbed around his ankles. He frowned down at it, because it looked a lot like Griz. Then it tipped its face up and purred. Heck, it was Griz! “How the heck did you get here?” He tried to remember if he’d heard anyone pull in, but he hadn’t. Last thing he’d noticed was a truck going by with an engine that sounded like crap.

  He set his drink–which was delicious–on the stand to his right, then crouched slowly. He needed to get the cat inside and close the door quick, so she wouldn’t get away, but Griselda had a plan of her own. She shot past him, right into the house.

  “Problem solved,” he said, closing the door. “I know somebody who’s gonna be very happy to see you.”

  And he was very happy to have an excuse to call Sunny. They needed to talk. Really talk. That wasn’t something they’d ever done, and it was high time. Past time.

  Her cell phone vibrated.

  Sunny had gone to bed with it in her grasp, like a castaway clinging to his last piece of flotsam. Eve would make her get rid of it as soon as they hit the road. It felt like the last bit of her life as Sunny Cantrell. She’d left the rest behind already. Her home, her business, all her things. Even her cat was gone. Soon they’d get rid of her car, too, and all she’d have left would be a few suitcases full of crap. She would keep her phone just as long as she possibly could. It represented so much more than it was.

  So, when it vibrated, she woke fast and rolled out of bed, tiptoeing fast across the room, then into the hallway, almost all in one motion.

  Downstairs, the juke box played Hank Williams and ice and glasses clinked backup. A low murmur of voices barely reached her. It was only eleven. The Long Branch closed at two.

  She answered the phone with a whispered “Hello?”

  “Hey.”

  It was Jason! Her heart lurched hard. "H-hey."

  “Sorry to call so late, but I have a visitor here.”

  Her blood went cold. Her brother had found him. “OhmyGod, Jason are you all right?”

  “Fine. I’m fine. Why would you–Sunny, are you all right?”

  “No. I’m really not.”

  “That’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me since you hit your head.”

  She said nothing. She didn't know what to say. He was in danger. He'd said someone was there. "Who is your visitor, Jason?"

  “Griselda.”

  It took a beat to register. “Griselda’s there?”

  “Don’t ask me how or why. But I found her scratching at my door. And get this. She rubbed around my ankles, then walked in like she owned the place.”

  Sunny went almost limp with relief. Griselda was his visitor. Not her brother or one of his slathering followers. “Thank God." She said it on a sigh. "Is she okay?”

  “Looks fine to me. She’s had a can of tuna, a sip of the finest tap water, and now she’s grooming herself on the back of my sofa.”

  “I’ll come get her.”

  “It’s late. I’ll bring her to you in the morning.”

  But in the morning, I’ll be gone.

  “I um. I need her now. I don’t…I can’t explain, I just really need my cat.”

  “I can bring–”

  “I’m coming over. I’ll see you soon.”

  She disconnected and went back into the room. Eve was sitting up in bed, waiting for her. “Jason?” she asked.

  Sunny nodded. “He found Griz. I’m going over to get her. And…to say goodbye.”

  “You can’t tell him we’re leaving.”

  “I know.”

  “You can’t tell him anything, Sunny.”

  “I know, Eve. This isn’t my first rodeo. This will be the last time I’ll…” Her throat tightened, and she had to force a swallow to go on. “The last time I’ll ever see him.”

  “Oh, hell no.” Eve slapped the covers on either side of her.

  “What?”

  “You’re in love, that’s what.” She flipped back her blankets and got up. “Damn, Sunny, you can’t be in love.”

  “I’m not in love. I’ve taken great pains not to fall in love.”

  “Oh, you have.” Deadpan. Eve started putting on the clothes she’d left out last night. Everything else was packed and they’d both showered before sleeping. The only things not packed were the clothes and shoes they’d wear to leave, and their toothbrushes.

  “Yes, I have."

  “Then why are there little red hearts instead of pupils in your eyes? You knew better.” Eve finished buttoning her shirt and pulled on her jeans.

  “Look," Sunny said. "I’ll be back in a few hours. And I’ll have my cat and we can go, just like you planned. Okay?”

  “Not okay. It’s not safe. I have to go with you.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “I’ll wait in the car.”

  “And that’s not gonna look suspicious? You lurking in the driveway like some kind of Aunt Lydia?”

  “I’ll park down the road out of sight. But within shouting distance. It’s that or nothing.”

  “I might…be a while.”

  Eve closed her eyes and strung six cuss words together in a creative and unique manner. Then she said. “Fine. I’ll wait. Now get dressed, and let’s get this show on the road.”

  Jason watched Sunny’s car pull into his driveway. Another vehicle passed, headlights briefly spilling on her as she got out of the car and came toward his front door. He scooped up the cat and opened it before she even knocked.

  Her eyes met his, and there was this long, awkward thing hanging between them. Her lies, maybe, or his own unasked questions.

  Then she looked at the cat, who was not twisting or scratching or even growling in his arms.

  “Aw, there she is,” she said softly. “Hey, Griz. And look at you holding her. She’s not even–” She bit off the rest.

  Scratching you, he thought. That’s what she was going to say. She’s not even scratching you. But that would imply she remembered how Griz would just casually walk up and take a swipe at him for kicks. Which, she didn’t. Right? Because amnesia.

  “I know,” he said instead of calling her on it. Not yet. It wasn't time. She was here. She'd come to him. He'd been praying she would, even knowing about her lies. “We’ve been working on it for a couple of hours, and I finally found a scratch-proof hold." He turned as he said it, so she could see.

  Griz gave her an icy glance, then closed her eyes.

  “I think she just cussed me out in Feline.” She reached for the cat. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Jason didn’t let Griz go, and instead, side-stepped and opened the door wider. “Can you…come in for a minute?” He looked deep into her eyes, trying to see the truth. What was going on? Why was she pretending to have lost her memory?

  Her eyes flicked toward the road and back again.

  “Only for a minute.” She stepped inside.

  He closed the door and let Griz leap out of his arms. She trotted into the living room jumped onto the sofa, then started kneading it into proper napping consistency.

  He looked at Sunny. She looked at him. He said, “I miss you, Sunny. I miss us.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Then you do remember.”

  She stepped a little closer, tipped her head just slightly to one side, her chin tilting up a li
ttle, her lips parting, her invitation clear. He kissed her softly, and then, when her arms twisted around his neck, not as softly. She tasted like he remembered. She wasn't different. He'd know if she was someone else.

  When he stopped and lifted his head, he stared into her big blue eyes, looking for her secrets. “I have so many questions.”

  “I know. I know you do. Can you let ‘em go, Jason? Just for now?” She pressed herself closer.

  “Uh-huh,” he said. And then he kissed her again, and still kissing her, pulled her up off her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, arms tighter around his neck and he carried her that way, into his bedroom.

  They fell on the bed, undressed each other, explored each other, worshipped each other like they never had before. Every touch was more intense, every taste more exciting. There was something desperate about it, and the pinnacle was shattering.

  They held each other for a long time, her head on his chest, her body all twisted up with his. They didn't move or speak, waiting for their pieces to reassemble.

  He lay there, with her hair spread over his chest, and thought it had been different than ever before. She was different. Something in her had shifted, somehow.

  Sunny lay in Jason’s arms, the safest place in the whole world. Maybe the only safe place in the world for her. She nodded off and dreamed of the day she’d met Dave. She’d been sitting on the bench at her first college softball game, backup pitcher to Gigi Hannaford. Gigi was amazing, had a stellar record and another year to go.

  Mary had been so proud when the college coach had praised her pitching skills. She’d seen her high school tapes, she said. She knew a champ in the making. She could spot ‘em, she’d said. And then she’d given her a uniform, a practice schedule, and a seat on the bench.

  That’s where she’d been when Dave had walked right into the dugout, like he had a right to be there, and said, “Hey, Coach, you care if I talk to your girl, Mary, for a minute?”

  Coach nodded. “Hustle up, Hayes.” Then to him, “Five minutes.”

  “Got it.”

  She thought, for a second, of what her father might think if he saw this, a middle-aged Latina giving her permission to leave the dugout with a young black man. She'd pondered on what her father might think about a lot of things since coming to college. Her roommate was Mexican. Her advisor, Jewish. Her favorite professor, Japanese. There were all kinds of people on this campus, and none of them seemed like what her father said they were. No one seemed to be conspiring to take over the country or replace “the white man.” None of them seemed any different from her. Her father's way of thinking was wrong. It was just plain wrong. She'd come fully awake to that within her first few weeks on campus. Nothing was the way he said it was. Nothing. And no one.

  “You there, Hayes?”

  She blinked, and realized Dave had been talking to her. And that he was movie star good looking. “I’m sorry," she said. "I was thinking.”

  “You know who I am?” he asked. He’d walked her around behind the dugout. It was pretty private there.

  “You’re Dave Barron. You pitch for the baseball team.”

  “That's right."

  "I've seen your games, when we're not playing elsewhere at the same time. You're good."

  "Thank you. Listen, I came over her because uh...well, let's be frank. You look a little morose sitting there on the bench.”

  “Yeah. I thought I’d be in the game.”

  “You will be. You’re better than her, you know.”

  “Who? Gigi?”

  He nodded. “I’ve seen you at practice a few times. I know pitchers, and you’re a pitcher. You’ve just gotta bide your time and wait your turn. This is her dream, too, and she got here first. So, you just wait it out, because your turn’s next, and the whole time you’re out there killing it, there’s gonna be a freshman on the bench, wishing it was her turn.”

  She lifted her brows. “Where did you get all this old-man wisdom?”

  “It’s what my coach told me when he saw me sitting the bench, looking morose my first year on the team. And then he told me to put a smile on my face if it killed me or I wouldn’t last long enough to get my turn.”

  That startled her.

  “It looks bad if the backup's over here pouting. And it’s bad for team morale, and it’s probably getting under Gigi’s helmet to boot. You should be cheering for her louder than anybody. Louder than her own family when they come. Her success is the team’s success, and the team’s success is your success.”

  She nodded slowly. “That’s really deep.”

  “That part’s original," he said with a proud tip of his head. “So…you get it?”

  “I get it. I’m being an asshole.”

  “There you go.”

  They both laughed. She noticed his eyes, brown and kind and knowing. He seemed to notice her noticing. “You’re pretty, Hayes. And funny, too. You, um…you want to have coffee sometime?”

  Her brows went up like they had springs on them. “You and me?”

  “Be a whole new experience for you, huh? But then again, that’s what college is for.”

  “Hayes, time’s up!” Coach called.

  She started to head back, then turned around. “Coffee sounds good. How about tomorrow? I’ve got no classes after two.”

  “Meet you at The Bean at two thirty then.”

  She smiled a smile that felt like it started at her toes and worked its way up. He smiled back. And she thought, it's a good thing Dad and Brax never come to my games. And it was the first time she’d ever thought it.

  And then she hustled back to the dugout. But she didn’t sit on the bench. she went right up to the grill and starting clapping and shouting, “Go, Hannaford! You got this!”

  Gigi threw a strike. Mary whistled and clapped and shouted some more.

  She saw Gigi pause before winding up and glance her way, and send her a smile. She felt good inside. And she liked that feeling.

  Jason let Sunny sleep. She probably needed it. He had his head propped up so he could look at her, all peaceful and relaxed across him. She was so damn pretty. She had a cute little nose, short and a little bit wide, a fairy’s nose. That, and the all-but-invisible spray of freckles across her cheekbones had probably not changed since she’d been a little girl.

  She'd scooped her hair all over to one side to cover her stitches and that horror on her scalp. What was she doing with a swastika tattoo? Lying to him, faking amnesia? Coming over here in the middle of the night and making love to him like never before? Like it was their last time or something.

  She must’ve felt his eyes on her, because she blinked hers open, smiled up at him, and said, “I dozed off.”

  “Only for a few minutes.” The clock said 12:20.

  She trailed a hand over his chest, then pushed herself up, turned, and started gathering up her clothes on the way to his bathroom. From there, she called, “I have to go. I hate to, but I have to.”

  He got up and dressed too, and when she came back out, he said, “Before you do, there’s something I want to show you.”

  She came out, met him halfway. “Sounds mysterious.”

  “It’s …something I’ve been keeping to myself. This way.” He took her across the living room to the door that led to the attached workshop and reached for the doorknob.

  “If you’ve got some Fifty Shades kind of thing going on in there, I don’t think–”

  “Fifty Shades, huh?” He shook his head at her. “That you remember?” He opened the door, turned on the light, and watched her face as she followed him in. He’d never taken her into his workshop before. He’d never taken anyone in there. He’d deemed it off limits to his family. He’d told Sunny once that it was his private space, and she’d never asked again. He got why now. She understood secrets. She had plenty of her own.

  He watched her as she stepped through and looked around.

  She saw the swords first. Probably because of the way they caught the light an
d reflected it. There was barely room to hang one more on the walls.

  He watched her eyes take them in. She breathed an appreciative “Wow.” And then, “So you collect swords? That’s your private thing?”

  “I make swords”

  And that’s when she swung her head around and her big eyes met his. “You made these? Jason, you made these? All of them?”

  “Yeah.”

  She walked away from him, up to the nearest wall, and then moved slowly, tipping her head up to examine every piece. “What about the um…sword holders? Eagle talons, dragon’s claws, every sort of animal paw, hoof and claw. Did you make those, too?”

  “Most of ’em. It’s a…a hobby. But I’m kind of passionate about it.”

  “This is no hobby. It’s art. You’re an artist, Jason.” Then she said, “That’s why you bought this place. It used to be a smithy’s shop, didn’t it?”

  She might remember that bit of local history, or she might know just from looking around. It was obvious if you paid attention. “Right. The original forge is still here.” He nodded at it. It was in the center of the room, a giant iron beast. Its chimney shot straight up through the roof. Beside it stood its modern counterpart. “I use it quite a lot.”

  “I am…absolutely…just…this is incredible.” She was still looking around the place, and then at him, and then around the walls again. “How could you not tell me this?”

  He could have asked how she knew he’d never told her, if she had no memory. But she really wasn’t pretending very hard at that lie anymore.

  “It’s just something I’ve always kept to myself,” he said.

  “But why?” She tipped her head to one side, like there were glyphs she was trying to translate appearing on his face. “This is kind of a big deal. It’s like…it’s who you are.”

  “I don’t know. Why does anyone keep their true self hidden?” He watched her face, tried to hold onto her eyes, but she wouldn't let him. She turned away so he couldn’t.

  “I’ve been asking myself why for a while now,” he went on. “Maybe I care too much about what others might think. That it's a silly way to spend time and money. That I've got more money than brains. I don't know. But maybe keeping it to myself is mostly because it’s my own. All my paying work has been helping my dad with the businesses he created. Even the Long Branch was his project, and now Joey’s really making it his own. But even before I sold my share, it never felt like mine. This…this is mine.”