Sleep Savannah Sleep

by Alistair Cross

  At the head of his mattress Jason had propped three framed photos on the floor. One was of the whole family, another showed Jason and Julia many years ago, arms slung around each other in matching Nirvana t-shirts, and the third one - his favorite - was just Julia. In the six months since her death, he’d warmed himself by this image, staring at it until its beauty reached the constant chill inside him, tamping it down, if only for a few moments. Her blue eyes seemed to watch him and her full lips seemed to smile just for him. The hair framing her face was glossy and thick, a nearly black shade that she’d passed down to neither Brent nor Amber.

  She was beautiful.

  As he stared, tears blurred his vision. “I don’t know if I can do this by myself.” It was something he’d often said to her photograph.

  2

  Intrusion

  Morning dawned warm and sunny, and though Jason had wanted to spend it on the terrace with a hot cup of coffee perusing the headlines on his laptop, he had too much to do. After ending the phone call with the moving company - the van was scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning - Jason began giving the house a much-needed dusting. He started with the banister and living room window sills.

  From the kitchen, he could hear Amber wiping out the cabinets, singing off-tune renditions of songs she’d heard on Tomorrow’s Singing Stars. Brent was MIA, preferring to be alone in his room where he could pout without interruption. Jason didn’t make an issue of it. It was better just to let the boy get it out of his system.

  “Daddy?” Amber called.

  “Yeah, sweetheart?”

  “There’s bugs in the cupboard. Dead ones.”

  “Do you want me to take over?”

  Amber was silent a moment, considering. “No, it’s okay. I’ll do it. I just wanted to tell you.”

  He smiled. “Okay, honey. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Rapid-fire knocks startled him. Dust rag in hand, he hurried to the door, wondering if Dottie Blanchard had returned.

  But the woman on the other side was a complete stranger with short unrealistically platinum hair that curled around a narrow face concealed by giant black sunglasses. She wore a long red jacket and a leopard-print skirt with a matching purse and shoes. Jason pegged her for early forties. Her bright red lips spread into a smile. “Mr. Crandall?” Her voice was raspy, like old leather - the voice of a woman who’d had too many cigarettes and cocktails.

  “Yes?”

  She held out a hand.

  He took it.

  “I’m Marlee Delgado. I’ve come to inquire about your massages.”

  Massages? He hadn’t even begun marketing. “Um, yes. What can I do for you?”

  Marlee rubbed her shoulder and sighed. “I’ve been having some trouble with muscle tightness. Stress, I think. It’s affecting my lower back, too. I wonder if you’d allow me the honor of being your first local client?” She smiled. “You take walk-ins, right?”

  Now? Does she mean right now? “I, well …”

  “Oh, I hope I haven’t come too soon and caught you off guard.” She took her glasses off revealing large brown eyes caked in mascara. “It’s just that Dottie Blanchard, your neighbor, told me you were setting up a studio and I thought maybe …”

  Dottie. Of course. He made a mental note to watch what he said around the woman.

  “I’d really appreciate it,” continued Marlee. “And I’m prepared to tip you generously.” She cracked out a rusty laugh that turned into a cough.

  “Well, the thing is, I’m not exactly ready to receive clients …” It felt like bad business to turn away his first customer. “But as long you don’t mind the unfinished studio, you’re more than welcome. I’ll need a few minutes to set up.”

  “That’s fine.”

  Jason stepped aside and Marlee brushed past him. He led her into the living room.

  Her eyes darted around the house. “I’ve always wondered what this place looked like inside.”

  Amber peered around the corner.

  He motioned her over. “This is my daughter, Amber.”

  Marlee gave Amber a broad red smile showing lipstick-stained teeth.

  “Amber, why don’t you show Ms. Delgado around while I run downstairs and set up?”

  She nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”

  Jason hesitated. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his daughter alone with a stranger. “Why don’t you two start in the back yard? I’m sure Ms. Delgado would love to see the terrace.”

  “Okay.” Amber led Marlee back toward the kitchen and when they were out of sight, Jason rushed upstairs to Brent’s room. He knocked.

  “What?” Brent’s tone suggested he hadn’t had more than thirty seconds to himself, when in truth, he’d had hours.

  Jason opened the door. “I’ve got a client and I need-”

  “A client? What?” Brent sat on the air mattress, his laptop in front of him.

  “Yes, a client. But I need a few minutes to set up. She and Amber are out back now, but I want you to go down and keep an eye on them. Just in case.”

  “In case what?”

  Jason sighed. “Well, we don’t really know anything about this woman.”

  Brent eyed him. “You don’t seriously think someone’s going to kidnap Amber, do you? Sorry, but there are far cuter kids out there.”

  “I don’t have time for this, Brent. I’m serious.”

  “All right, all right.” He pushed himself off the air mattress and slumped out of his room.

  In the far west basement bedroom, Jason quickly put up the massage table, lit a lemon-scented candle, and set out the essential oils. He couldn’t find the table warmer - it was probably in the one suitcase he hadn’t yet unpacked - but it wasn’t a necessity.

  Ideally, he’d have the sound system set up; he’d loaded his iPod with the soothing compositions of Armand Amar, but it didn’t do him much good without the speakers. Eventually, he’d also tear out the ratty carpet and put in hardwood floors, build a sauna where the closet was, and sprinkle the room with some zenful wall hangings, a soothing fountain, and perhaps some plants.

  Finished, he looked around, overcome by a surge of pride, accomplishment, and deeper emotions. This was Julia’s wish for him - that after she was gone, he’d leave his high-stress marketing job and do what he loved. She’d even insisted that part of the money from her life insurance policy fund his massage studio. Jason had promised to make it so.

  And here he was. Though it was far from complete, the massage studio was a reality. A humble one perhaps, but a reality, nonetheless. Jason smiled.

  “I’m going to go a little deeper here.” Jason could feel the knots in Marlee’s shoulders; the woman clearly carried a lot of stress.

  “You go ahead and do whatever you’ve got to do.” Marlee, face-down on the massage table, gave no indication of discomfort as he probed deeper with his thumbs. He rubbed more lavender-scented massage oil in his palm and continued, but he was having a hard time finding a comfortable rhythm - he felt rusty and out of practice. “There are meditations you can do that would help your tension as well. We could go over some of them afterward, if you’d like. They can help you get to the root of your stress.”

  “I’m not too taken by the idea of meditation, to be honest. Who has time? Besides, I know the exact root of my stress. I just have to figure out what to do about it.”

  Jason made sympathetic noises as he kneaded her shoulders. In his college days, when he’d begun giving massages, one of the first things he’d learned was to let the client guide the conversation. Some of them didn’t want to talk at all, and that was fine, too. In fact, he preferred that.

  But Marlee Delgado was a talker. “It’s my husband. Travis. I swear he’s the cause of just about every problem I have.” She gave a throaty, leathery laugh, then raised her head, looking at him with sooty, makeup-caked eyes. “He’s seeing another woman again, I’m sure of it.”

  The unexpected confession caught Jas
on off guard. What am I supposed to say to that?

  “And the worst part is that he thinks I’m stupid. I think that bothers me almost as much as the affair itself. But it’s kind of hard to believe all his stories about working late when the monthly income hasn’t increased.” She laughed again and it turned into a cough. “So yeah. That’s the root of my stress - Travis Delgado.”

  As she talked, Jason could practically feel the tension collecting and thickening in her muscles. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “You and me, both. And that’s not even the worst of it. He has the nerve to be possessive of me. Like I’m the one who needs to be watched. I think he even has his buddies keep an eye on me. He’s always been a jealous man, but it’s gotten even worse these past months. That’s part of what tipped me off that he’s seeing someone on the side. I always know because he starts getting suspicious of me. Isn’t it strange how that happens?”

  Wonderful. Jason wondered how the man would react if he found out about his wife’s visit today.

  “And I know exactly who he’s seeing, too. I just wish I could prove it. Catch them in the act, you know?” She was silent a moment as Jason moved lower down her back. “Christ, I hate this town.”

  He wished he could get her to relax and was beginning to worry that perhaps he’d lost his touch - it had been a while since he’d given an honest massage. But then, as he began working on her lower back muscles - which were as knotted as her shoulders - she fell silent and finally, her body began to loosen up.

  As the minutes ticked by, he was able to relax, too. He’d forgotten how calming it was to shut down his mind and let his hands go to work - as he stroked, kneaded, and rubbed, it was as if another part of him took over. His hands went where the tension was, guided by intuition. As he stroked away Marlee’s pressures, hostilities, and anxieties, he reaped the same benefits himself.

  After working out her lower back, he covered it with draping and began on the backs of her legs, first one, then the other, starting at the hamstrings and moving down to the calves. His own mind was calm, his thoughts little more than a soft murmur, a slow, tranquil ebb and flow. This was healthy for him, he could feel it. This was where he found peace, and by the time the hour was up, he was confident that Marlee had found some too. Or at least a temporary reprieve from thoughts of her cheating husband.

  Upstairs, Marlee paid Jason in cash - a habit she’d probably developed in order to keep her husband from being able to track her purchases. “It was a pleasure. And you can bet your buns I’ll be back for more.”

  He led her to the door, following her onto the veranda. “Be sure and tell your friends.”

  “You can bet on that, too.” Marlee strode toward her car looking much more relaxed than when she arrived. Jason felt a surge of pride. As her red Lexus pulled away, a shiny black sedan arrived at the curb - it was Flynn Garvey, the realtor who’d sold him the house.

  Busy day in Shadow Springs, thought Jason.

  Flynn emerged from the car, his too-white grin visible from any distance. He walked to the passenger’s side and opened the door - and the buxom blond who stepped out was the type of woman who’d bring traffic to a crawl. And in that tight black minidress, she’d likely cause a few accidents, too. She smiled up at Jason, her hand wrapped around the neck of a champagne bottle.

  Temporarily stunned by her beauty, Jason just stared.

  “Welcome to Shadow Springs!” Despite prematurely graying hair, Flynn Garvey was around Jason’s age, give or take. He wore a charcoal suit and a chronic smile. He slipped an arm around the blonde’s tiny waist.

  No wonder the man’s always smiling. The woman beside him had a face as movie-star beautiful as her figure, and as the couple climbed the steps, Jason composed himself and greeted them with a smile of his own. “How are you doing?” He held his hand out and Flynn took it.

  “I’m just great!” Flynn pumped Jason’s hand, his carnival barker’s smile at full-tilt. “I’m sure you’re busy as all get out right now, but I’m just so excited to see you in your new home that I couldn’t wait to bring your housewarming gift.”

  Jason glanced at the blonde, hoping she wasn’t the gift. On the other hand ...

  “But first, I’d like you to meet Savannah Sturgess. My girlfriend.”

  Savannah was considerably younger than Flynn - no more than twenty-three. She smelled of something floral - soft and sweet - and wore a delicate chain around her neck. Jason’s eyes followed it to the gold cross dangling between her generous breasts. “A pleasure.” She held out her hand in a way that made Jason think he should kiss it. Her fingernails were painted a shade of china blue that matched her eyes.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Savannah.” Jason shook her hand.

  She watched him with interest. “I see you’re meeting some of the locals, already.”

  “What? Oh, yes. Marlee Delgado. My first client.” Jason beamed with pride. “And I haven’t even started advertising yet.”

  “Client?” Savannah tipped her head. “What do you do, Mr. Crandall?”

  “Jason’s a massage therapist,” explained Flynn. “He’s starting his own business.”

  “Really?” Savannah’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

  Jason nodded.

  “I’d love a massage sometime.” Something in her eyes gave Jason’s heart a tiny electric shock.

  Flynn nudged her. “Well, give him his gift, Savannah.” He seemed very excited about it.

  “Oh, yes, of course.” She presented the champagne to Jason.

  “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you.” Jason glanced at the label. It meant nothing to him. He tried to look impressed, anyway.

  Flynn nodded. “So, tell me how you’re liking the house? What do the kids think?” His smile never faltered.

  “It’s perfect, Flynn. I think it’s going to work out fine. Why don’t you guys come in for a minute. The furniture isn’t here yet but-”

  “Oh, we couldn’t do that,” said Flynn. “You must have so much to do.”

  “I’d love to look around.” Savannah batted her lashes.

  Flynn appeared displeased, perhaps embarrassed that Savannah had overridden his polite refusal.

  “It’s no problem, really.” Jason opened the door and let them in.

  Inside, Savannah was clearly impressed. “It’s incredible.” She moved from one end of the living room to the other, her blue eyes wide, her figure moving deliciously beneath the tight black dress.

  Jason had to make conscious efforts not to ogle her. “Thanks.”

  Amber peered out from behind the kitchen entryway and Jason motioned her over. “This is Amber, my daughter.”

  Amber smiled at Flynn and Savannah.

  Before Flynn could acknowledge the girl, Savannah crouched to her level. “Well, aren’t you just a beautiful little thing!” She looked at her doll. “And she’s as beautiful as you are!”

  “Thank you,” said Amber. “Her name’s Ruby and see right here? She has a stain on her new dress and I just barely changed her into it because I think she likes this one better.”

  “Well, even with the stain, it’s gorgeous,” said Savannah. “It’s hardly noticeable.”

  “Savannah - that’s a pretty name,” said Amber. “My middle name is Lynn. What’s yours?”

  Savannah giggled. “Olivia.”

  “That’s even prettier than mine!”

  As the two prattled on, Jason turned to Flynn. “My son, Brent, is here too, but he’s busy upstairs. Otherwise, I’m sure he’d love to meet you.” But Jason was glad he’d stayed upstairs. As a rule, Brent didn’t like people - and it usually showed.

  “You’ve done some polishing, I see.” Flynn walked to the banister, ran a hand down it. “This place is going to be just fantastic when you get everything moved in. I think you’re really going to love it here.” His million-dollar smile broadened - if that were possible. He had the kind of face that should have been handsome but it was just too much; too much ja
w, too many teeth, too much of everything.

  “And the yard is breathtaking,” said Savannah. “I just love wisteria!” She, on the other hand, had the right amount of everything. And crouched next to Amber as she was, Jason realized with alarm that he could practically see it all; her skirt had slid up enough that he glimpsed transparent black lace panties.

  Jason looked away quickly and cleared his throat. “It’s a wonderful yard, yes. I don’t know how much longer the bloom will stay on the cat’s claw, but it’s very pretty.”

  “Not long,” said Savannah. “But even after the flowers are gone, the vines are still beautiful.”

  Jason nodded, eyes averted. He had the distinct feeling Savannah knew her panties were showing - and that she didn’t mind at all.

  At the bottom of the staircase, Flynn tested the creaks with his foot. Jason had never seen him frown before - he hadn’t been sure his face was capable of it - but he did it now.

  “I’m planning to get those creaks fixed ASAP,” Jason said, and then, as if by magic, the sideshow smile was nailed back onto Flynn’s face and Jason expected him to say, “Step right up, step right up!”

  But he didn’t. Instead, he turned to Savannah. “Well, honey. I suppose we ought to go and let the Crandalls get settled in.”

  “Of course.” Savannah tousled Amber’s hair, stood, and made her way to Jason, her delicate hand extended. “It was such a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Crandall.”

  He took her hand, startled when he felt the brush of her fingertip on his wrist. It wasn’t a stroke exactly, but there was meaning in it, he was sure. Then she glanced at Amber. “Your daughter’s just beautiful.”