She Walks In Moonlight

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She Walks In Moonlight Page 3

by Jennifer Silverwood


  I cocked my finger and fired an invisible shot. “You got it, big boss.”

  He paused in my doorway and, with a glance, revealed all the worry, agitation, and relief he was really feeling. “Night, baby girl.”

  That night I dreamed about stardust and space, the way the inky black swallowed once-brilliant stars until everything was consumed. In the absence of light, I floated in peaceful, cold darkness. Papa had named me after the morning star of Russian folklore, and I was forever embarrassed by the fact. I liked Danica because it was easier to pronounce and not so whimsical. My father had only ever gotten dust for all his grand dreams. I was determined not to follow in his footsteps even though I envied his ability to hope even after the cancer had eaten away most of his body. His soul flared bright and strong until the end. I often wondered if he had felt this peaceful when it was over, floating in eternal black. I wondered if I could stay here and float with him forever.

  Sunlight woke me from the first peaceful sleep I’d found in years. I blinked against its gold flare, and panic settled as I took in my childhood bedroom. I jumped upright when I saw the two small faces watching me.

  “Where am I?” I shook my head and wondered if I was still dreaming. “Sasha? Anya?”

  The children turned to look at each other then back at me. Sasha kept his arms crossed over his chest and observed me with a scowl that eerily resembled my father’s.

  Anya climbed onto the bed. I scooted up until my back touched the headboard, but she still braced her hands on my lap. “Papa says you’re gonna take care of us now. Is that true, Aunt Dani?” She spoke with a slight lisp and looked up at me with Peter’s eyes. I hadn’t Skyped the kids in six months, and it was unnerving how much Anya’s little face had changed in that short time.

  “Um, yeah,” I replied. “I’m going to try my best, for sure.” It sounded lame even to my ears. I pushed my wild morning curls out of my face and tried not to show how her touch bothered me. I wasn’t used to people touching me unless I wanted them to.

  Anya scrunched her button nose. “Your accent sounds funny, like Papa’s.”

  I laughed at the fact that she’d even noticed. I usually worked hard to keep a “nowhere” accent. “Well, I’ve sort of lived all over the place, but mostly Russia.”

  “That’s where you and Papa were born, isn’t it? Papa talks Russian with us sometimes.” She leaned farther, cupped her hand over her mouth, and whispered, “I like it because no one knows what we say.”

  “Sounds fun.” I kept my surprise to myself. My father had tried to keep the Russian to a minimum while he was alive, to force us to speak better English.

  “So…” I leaned forward to clap my hands over Anya’s. “Did you guys want to see me that badly this morning, or is this an inadvertent way to ask me to make you breakfast?”

  Sasha spoke up finally. “Course not, dummy. You forgot to see us off to the bus stop. We’re late for school.”

  “Oh shit!” I jumped out of bed.

  Anya gasped behind me. “You shouldn’t swear!”

  “Sorry! I’m so sorry, you guys! I must have slept through my alarm! Oh crap, I need clothes. Do y’all have clothes?” I turned to take in their somewhat mismatched outfits and the backpacks on their backs. “Yes? Good. Where did I throw my boots?”

  Anya held up a calf-length boot with a giggle. “This it?”

  “Yes! Thank God.” I almost fell trying to pull it on then knelt to grab the other from underneath my bed.

  “You aren’t gonna do this every day, are you?” Sasha took a step back when I brushed by him to get my satchel.

  “Course not!” I said with maybe a little too much vehemence, judging by his narrowed eyes. Petey wasn’t kidding when he said the kid was a tough customer. I threw my hair in a ponytail and pulled a jacket over my T-shirt and shorts. “We won’t be too late,” I said. “It’s just been a while since I’ve had a real schedule. I'll get used to it, trust me.”

  One thing, Zvezda Danica Pavlova… He gave you one thing to do this morning.

  “Hope so,” Sasha grumbled.

  “Have you guys eaten breakfast yet? Do you have lunches?”

  Sasha sighed as if answering was a burden. “Yeah, we had Pop-Tarts. Papa already packed our lunches last night.”

  Anya grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the door. “I’m so glad you’re here, Aunt Dani! Sasha never plays with me anymore. You’ll play with me and read to me, won’t you? Can we play dress-up later? Ooh! And watch Batman?”

  “Batman?” We rushed downstairs, and I searched desperately for Petey’s spare car keys.

  Sasha answered for his sister and grabbed the key off the hook by the kitchen door. “Yeah, you know the old cartoon? She’s in a retro phase.”

  I tried not laugh at my nephew’s adult reply and nodded with a smile as I locked the back door behind us. “I love ’90s cartoons. Ever watch Animaniacs, kids?”

  “What’s that?” Anya asked as I helped her into the back seat. “I can buckle myself, Aunt Dani.”

  “What’s Animaniacs?” I sputtered and grinned. “Oh, just wait ’til you guys get home from school today. You ride the bus home, right?”

  Sasha nodded from his seat next to Anya. “Yeah.”

  “Good,” I said as I shut the back door. I was thankful my brother owned a garage and two vehicles. I nearly tripped over my feet as I settled into the driver’s seat and realized we were sitting in my old Ford Escape.

  He kept the car?

  Not only had he kept it, but it appeared he had redone most of the interior as well. Judging by the sound of the engine when I cranked it, he’d also replaced the old engine with diesel. I felt stupid for wanting to tear up over that and steeled my heart up a bit. “So, which school do you guys go to?”

  Sasha looked at me in a way that clearly stated his opinion of my capabilities. “Glenwood Elementary.”

  “Got it,” I said and looked over my shoulder and began backing out of the open garage. That was the school I had attended, the one with the classrooms filled with dusty chalk and old desks, where I’d met Adam King. I gripped the steering wheel. I wasn’t sure how the school and the memory its name triggered could shake me up so badly. I didn’t let myself wonder.

  3

  Hometown Glory

  Thanks to my heavy right foot and lack of traffic, we made it to the school in record time. Anya giggled as we swerved up against the sidewalk. Sasha still had a tight grip on the door and his seat belt but wouldn’t admit my driving scared the crap out of him. Seemed he was stubborn like his Aunt Dani in that regard.

  I smiled and glanced back at the kids once I pulled up to the front of the school. “You guys need me to go in with you? Do I need to sign something? I could walk you to class.”

  Sasha unbuckled his seat belt and pushed open his door. “We’re fine. I’ll take Anya to her class.” He looked both ways up and down the idle street before shutting his door and running around the back to Anya’s side.

  “Okay, then.”

  I watched Anya pop the seat buckle. She grabbed her Batman lunchbox and smiled toothily up at me. “Bye, Aunt Dani! Will you still be at home after school?”

  Sasha pulled her door open and took her hand in his to help her out.

  “You betcha, kiddo.”

  “C’mon, Anya! Let’s go!” Sasha grumbled.

  “Have a good—” Sasha shut the door, interrupting me. I sighed as I watched them walk up to the school and through the front doors. Only after I was sure they were gone did I collapse in my seat and hang my head in my hand.

  “Great… Way to let them down your first day on the job.” I glanced down at my silky nightshirt, jean shorts, and boots. I met my reflection in the rearview mirror and saw for the first time what the kids had seen—wild curls in desperate need of a brushing and mascara-smudged dark eyes. I looked like a poster ad for troubled women. No wonder Sasha hadn’t wanted me to walk them to class. I would have been embarrassed too.

  “G
et it together, Pavlova,” I told my reflection. I was going to be someone my nephew and niece could be proud of, not the reject aunt who never bothered to show up.

  A knock on my window made me jump and turn to face one of the “men in blue.” I groaned and pressed the button to roll down my window.

  The police officer propped his hands over his wide girth and leaned down to meet my eyes. “Ma’am, did you realize you were parked in a no-parking zone?”

  I pasted on my best smile. “No, Officer, was just trying to bring my niece and nephew to school. See, I’ve actually never brought the kids to school before, or any kids for that matter.”

  “Mmhm…” The officer glanced up and down the street. He was a bit heavy around the edges, but something about him was familiar underneath those aviator sunglasses.

  “Well,” he announced, “way I see it, I could write you a ticket for a traffic violation, or…”

  I cringed, ready for it. Looked like my charm had gone in the wastebasket, or it could have been the fact that I looked like a basket case. My mouth fell open when he took off his aviators and laughed. I knew that laugh and that face. “Jeremy Greene?”

  “Guess I could give you a pass since you remembered my name after ten years.” He leaned in a bit closer, and I stared at the familiar freckles and bright-red hair. It was Jeremy Greene, all right, forty pounds heavier than I remembered.

  “Wow, it has been a while, hasn’t it,” I offered.

  He looked up and down the street before smiling back at me. He shook his head. “Danica Pavlova… man, the guys aren’t going to believe this. I recognized your car; thought it might be your brother at first until I saw all that hair. Same car you drove in high school, right?”

  “Yeah, Peter kept it up for me ’til I could come back, I guess.”

  “So, you’re back, huh? For good or just a visit?”

  I recognized the glint in his blue eyes, a shadow of the crush he’d harbored for me once upon a time. We’d gone on a few dates back in the day. I hadn’t been enough of a science geek for him. But I felt a little better about my looks, thanks to the appreciation on his face. So I played along.

  I leaned against my window and let my smile grow wider. “Haven’t decided yet. I’m helping Peter out with the kids for now.” I didn’t mention the cancer, didn’t care to give him anything else to feed the local gossip chain.

  “That’s great, Danica! Glad to see you’re back! Tell you what, if you need a welcome-home tour, I’d be happy to show you around sometime.”

  “That would be great, Jeremy. I’m busy with the kids, but I’ll let you know. I can’t believe you became a cop! Always thought you’d be a scientist or professor somewhere.”

  His smile faded somewhat, and I cursed my loose tongue.

  “Turns out you need money to get through college. I joined the PD, hoping to pay my way, but… well, you can see it didn’t turn out the way I planned.”

  “Never does, does it?” I looked back at the elementary school where I’d first met Adam King, where Jeremy the Cop had first told me about his love for dinosaurs. It wasn’t fair that I had ruined Adam’s dreams, any more than it was fair that money had kept Jeremy from his. Dreams were little bastards like that.

  I heard a garbled voice amid static and watched as Jeremy Greene picked up his radio to listen in. His forehead creased. When did we get so old? He punched a button. “Ten-four.” Then he looked back at me. “Hate to run, but I got another call. Just couldn’t resist saying hi when I saw you.”

  “I’m glad you did,” I said and realized I meant it.

  “Oh, and by the way, this really is a no-parking zone.” He winked at me before putting his aviators back on.

  I rolled my window back up and watched him get into his cruiser in my side mirror then put my car in gear. At least I knew I had one friend left in town. Despite the way the other guys used to tease our resident science geek, I was glad to see he was doing well for himself. Also, it didn’t hurt to have a cop for a friend, just in case.

  After letting him drive around me, I pulled past the front of the school. As I merged back onto the road, I found the old classic rock station on the radio. Adam had once said there was no other music worth listening to, and I had to agree with him.

  Robert Plant wailed about giving me all his love, while I drove past the suburbs and into the heart of town. Instead of going straight home, I took note of how much had changed in Fayetteville. I shouldn’t have been surprised to find a lot less change than I was hoping for.

  Instead of giving into the urge to drive past our house and toward the King residence, I pulled into the safety of our backyard.

  Does he still live at home? I wondered but shoved the question into the forbidden zone at the back of my mind. Questions about Adam King were off-limits. Peter had often tried to throw in an update or two but stopped after I kept shutting him down. It was easier for me to pretend I didn’t care.

  I trudged up the stairs to my old bedroom soon after I locked the back door. I should have used the time to go through the mess of clothes in my duffel or to contact the university back in Petersburg. Officially, I was supposed to be using this time to conduct more research for my department. I blamed jet lag when I collapsed on my bed and threw my duvet over my head.

  “Dani?” a familiar voice called from a distance. I either didn’t have the will to cross over to answer back, or this was just another dream, like the one where I’d come back to Fayetteville to take care of Petey and the kids.

  “Hey, wake up, baby girl,” the voice called again. I wanted to tell it to go to hell. I was exhausted. My body shook and was rocked by some outside force. The voice grew more insistent, Petey’s voice, speaking to me in Russian. That got my attention.

  I groaned and twisted under the tangled comforter. I grumbled back in Russian. Peter chuckled, and I opened my eyes to see him smiling over me, his hand resting against my arm.

  “You’re still impossible to drag out of bed, I see.” He patted my curls, which still hadn’t been brushed. “Anya’s the same way, believe it or not. I tell her all the time she reminds me of her Aunt Dani.”

  I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Pretty sure I was never that bubbly or adorable.”

  “Well, you wouldn’t remember, now, would you?” He grinned, and wrinkles broke out at the corners of his periwinkle-blue eyes. They were slightly slanted at the corners, like our father’s had been. Mine were large and a shade of navy that looked black in most lights.

  “How was your appointment?”

  I watched his grin soften and worry crease his forehead. He ran a grease-stained hand through his brown hair. “Never mind that right now. How were the kids this morning? Did Anya bite your head off when you tried to wake her up?”

  I groaned and tried to pull my duvet back over my head.

  Peter snatched it out of my hand and tilted his head with an expectant grin. “That bad, huh?” he asked.

  I answered in a rush. “Well, for starters, I slept through my alarm. When I woke up, they were already dressed and staring at me. You can imagine how stupid I felt when they said they missed the bus.” Peter laughed, and I would have been annoyed if I wasn’t already ashamed of myself.

  “Sorry, baby girl. Much as I’m enjoying watching you squirm, I’ve got to confess. I got a phone call earlier from Leach at the garage. Said Officer Greene stopped by to check on things. Apparently, Greene went on and on about you being back in town.” Peter’s grin was going to split his face in two if I didn’t break it first.

  “All the men are rejoicing, I’m sure,” I groaned.

  Peter shrugged. “I never believed all the rumors, baby girl. I know bullshit when I hear it. You gotta keep in mind, in a town like Fayetteville, they think you’re exotic because you’re Russian.”

  I shook my head. “But I grew up here. They’ve known me since I was eight.”

  He shrugged. “You know how they are in the South. We could have lived here for twenty years, and th
ey’d still consider us foreigners. It’s the accents.” He winked at me. “So, listen, I’m going to go up to the garage to work on a few things with Leach. I should be home in time for dinner.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You look like the hind wheels of destruction, Petey,” I said, borrowing a favorite phrase from our old neighbor, Ms. Mason.

  He laughed, but it sounded too shallow, too forced. It may have been ten years since we’d sat face-to-face like this, but I could tell my brother was putting on a good front for me.

  “I can manage.”

  “Like hell you can.” I sat up and threw the cover aside. “I’m driving you to the garage, end of discussion.” Peter laughed again while I grabbed a bra and a decent shirt to replace my nightie.

  “You went to the school dressed like that, huh?”

  “Shut up,” I said, but I grinned at him over my shoulder.

  He held his hands up. “Hey, it’s not a bad look, honestly.”

  I threw my jacket at his face.

  4

  Every Day is Exactly the Same

  Peter must have been feeling lousy to let me drive him in to work. It felt like ages and only yesterday since I’d last driven the ten minutes it took to reach my brother’s pride and joy. He had given up his education after Papa died. I was ten, and Petey was twenty-three. Even though his mother’s inheritance and Papa’s insurance policy had left us with enough to be comfortable, Peter had wanted to work with his hands. He hadn’t wanted to rely on old family money to feed us and worked his way up at Grumpy’s garage downtown. He had saved up enough five years later to open his own place on the outskirts of town, closer to the college.

  The two-story operation only had two garages, with loads of parts and equipment stacked around and behind the main building. Besides the tiny office connected to the garages, Petey kept a larger apartment upstairs. Sometimes he sublet it to guys he trusted. On long workdays, when I’d still been in school, he used to crash there too.

 

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