When I was twenty-six…
Today was my birthday and the day the furniture finally arrived for our new house. I had spent the morning helping the mover’s setup each room. It felt good. It felt so incredibly good each time I walked through the front door, except tonight I wasn’t walking.
“Jess put me down.”
“Keep your eyes closed.” He clamped his arms tighter around my body as his boots stepped on the wooden porch.
“I’ve seen the inside of the house a hundred times. I even setup the damn furniture this morning.”
“This is our first official night here so just do this for me.”
“You are impossible Jessup Mason.” I grinned into his blue eyes.
“Closed, Alex.”
“Fine.” I shut my eyes, snuggling closer to his chest as he opened the door. I heard his boots on the hardwood floor in the living room. I loved our new house. It wasn’t over-the-top like the Manor that sat on the other side of Sprayberry. Our home was simple and very much us. My favorite part was the porch that overlooked the stump and the beautiful view of the meadow. I even installed a porch swing.
Jess continued to walk toward the dining room. His hand let go of me and I heard the chair pull out from the table. Tilting me down, my butt touched the seat. “Ok, you can open them.”
Slowly, I lifted my eyelashes to a dark room lit with about hundred candles; the entire table and counter were covered with glowing flames that trailed into the living room and around the fireplace and on the coffee table. In front of me, were several pans of food and a small cake with the words, Happy Birthday Alex in scripted letters.
We both had been so busy with the move that I just planned to do nothing for my birthday. Turning to look up at his sweet face, I felt that pain in my chest. “You didn’t have to do this, Jess.”
“Well, Caroline made the food. I just set it up.”
“It’s so beautiful. Thank you.”
He knelt down beside the chair, taking my hand. I saw his eyes glisten with a few tears. “I want you to know how happy I am. You’re here with me. We’re in our house together. I’ve wanted this for so long and I finally get it. I finally get to have this with you.”
“This makes me happy too.”
“I know you’ve givin’ up stuff to be here with me.”
“No,” I leaned forward, kissing him softly. “Never think that. I am here because this is the way it’s supposed to be.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.” I touched his cheek, feeling the stubble under my fingers.
Jess pulled me up from the chair, and I followed him into the living room as the candles twinkled around us. Falling back against our new couch, I let him take off my shirt. He pressed his lips to my bare skin, kissing down my breasts toward my stomach. He pulled my jeans slowly over my hips. Looping his fingers around my white panties, he tugged the cotton fabric down to my ankles. My heart beat fast in my chest as I watched Jess take off his clothes until he was completely naked. He crawled on top of me, slipping between my thighs.
I smiled at the intense look on his sweet face. “Our guests will never sit on this couch if they know your nasty ass was on it.”
“You like my ass.” He grinned before kissing my lips. His tongue brushed over the freckle on the bottom one. He kissed me harder, as I locked my ankles around his waist. I drifted away under the light of a hundred candles, letting his body touch me in every way possible. I would never get tired of this with Jess. I would never get tired of how it felt to really be us.
Chapter 49
When I was twenty-six…
Two weeks after we moved into the house, I drove on the dirt road to the highway for a show in Austin. I turned the fancy satellite radio in my new Tahoe to a station I programmed just to torment the fire out of Jess. I felt a little sad being gone, even for just a few days. He was so imbedded under my skin that I felt a little nauseous being apart.
As I drove down the road, I saw the child first, not the woman, walking on highway between Arlis and Granby. He was a dark-haired boy around four or five years old, clutching a beat-up teddy bear under his arm, following behind the broken-down woman. She had dark stains on the legs of her jeans and a dirty shirt with holes. The November air was rather chilly and neither of them wore a coat.
I felt a catch in my throat as I drove past, seeing the pair fade in the rear-view mirror. I was alone and a little afraid to pull over for strangers. This world was not a nice world anymore, but something took control like I’d never even had a decision in the matter. Clenching the steering wheel, I pulled over making a quick U-turn. I parked on the side of the road, watching from the safety of my large truck
She was a short woman, about five feet tall. Her dirty hair was fastened in a ratty clump against her neck. She never looked in my direction, but I knew she saw me. I read the thoughts etched into her face. She didn’t want some rich woman in the fancy truck interfering in their lives. She figured I was sitting inside, laughing or bored with fleeting curiosity.
The pit of my stomach shook. I wasn’t bored or spoiled with unnecessary shit. I swore that I would never be that person when I married Jess. Opening the door, I jumped out, feeling the ground under my trusty gray, canvas shoes. I walked toward the travelers; foot in front of the other until I stood directly in their path.
She looked at me with narrow and angry eyes. Pin pricks shot down my spine, seeing the familiar grit of her jaw. I knew this face very well. It was the same face I saw in the mirror for about sixteen years; a permanent look of hatred and pride that manifested so deep it couldn’t be contained.
They needed my help. I would get a backlash of hatred. She would not willingly take my assistance. Knowing the likely outcome, I could live with it. They needed me more than I needed their gratitude.
Make her hate the Masons as much as you did. Make her angry. Make her want somethin’ better.
A jolt slammed into my chest. It finally made sense. I understood why the Masons just didn’t have it in them to walk the other way. Why they just couldn’t leave Henry and Alex Tanner, sitting in their car in the hospital parking lot. How Mrs. Eva Lynn Mason, with her proper pearl necklace, didn’t give a damn what others thought of her. She didn’t need my love and approval to know our move to Sprayberry was the right decision. She never cared one bit I hated the Masons as long as my father and I had a roof over our heads.
The magnitude of the moment struck me hard and deep. I stuck out my hand trying to play it casual, which seemed impossible considering I faced the defining moment of my life.
“Hi. I’m Alex Mason. It’s getting pretty cold out here. I was just on my way to get some hot chocolate at Jeeter’s. Want a ride into town?”
Her gaze shifted to me and back to the car. I saw the distain in her sneer; a wordless glare that said I don’t need pity from some rich bitch. A small voice spoke up softly from behind. “Do they have marshmallows?”
“Anything you want. Jeeter’s even has whipped cream.” I saw his eyes light up when I mentioned the last part. “What’s your name?”
“Eddy del Torro. And that’s my momma, Vanessa.”
Chapter 50
Yesterday, 11:34 a.m.
Sitting in the back corner, I took another bite of the gooey pizza. A piece of pepperoni stuck to the roof of my mouth. I used my tongue to pry it free. Definitely not even in the top fifty best I had ever eaten, but the food wasn’t the point. I watched them; out of sight and out of mind. I preferred it that way.
Eight children, ranging from roughly seven to ten years old, ran from one loud game to another. The basketball toss seemed to be their favorite. The kids belonged to a home in the south section of Dallas. They were here today because I sponsored the trip to Mario’s Pizza Land. Well in truth, the three full hours of semi-edible goo and arcade madness, came courtesy of the Mason List.
When I officially assumed responsibility of Jess's grand idea, I intended to mark an item off the old sheet and continue t
o the next one. This entry for carnival tickets, held three tally marks. Jess would laugh in my face when I returned to Sprayberry. My rules so I could break them as many times as I wished.
I wiped the grease off my lips and gathered up the trash. After three days away, I felt a stab of homesickness. It was strange to think I had once left him over two years and yet, I couldn’t stand to be gone a couple of days. I traveled more than I planned but I just couldn’t stop. The Mason List took on a mind of its own. The ideas came faster than I could even process.
Vanessa del Torro and her son Eddy became my first project. She was a tough one to crack; the girl had ten times the hatred and mistrust than the younger version of me. Caroline gave Vanessa a job at Jeeter’s. I checked off the list, my father’s hardware store job. A few months later, I added riding lessons when I got Eddie a horse.
My eyes scanned the list differently these days. I felt anticipation rather than the gripping control of the past. Sometimes, I purposely sought out people, and others just stumbled up under my feet. In most cases, I preferred to be anonymous. I watched in the shadows as I paid restaurant bills for random tables. I had bought high-end Nike’s for an impoverished school. I never saw the faces of the kids, but I already knew how good it felt to wiggle your toes inside a pair that actually fit and marked off school shoes from the list.
One night before Christmas, I tipped a waitress five thousand dollars at a diner just outside of Fort Worth. Concealed in the safe darkness of my car, I had watched through the window as she approached the table. Her expression had made my chest clench. I bit down hard on my lip to fight back the tears. Her tired, old face collapsed into the red cushioned seat. Without a single word between us, I saw the relief etched in the lines around her mouth. She needed a break. She hoped for a break. She wished for a break. That tip was just enough to get her there. That night I had crossed Christmas present money off the list.
One afternoon, I had waited to get my oil changed and overheard a desperate man getting the bad news on his truck. I caught a glimpse at the most pathetic piece of rusted up metal sitting next to the curb. I left my warm seat and crossed over to the new car side of the dealership.
Whipping out my checkbook, I pointed at the white double cab sitting on the show room floor. I didn’t need to see any piece of the inside to know the fancy truck had the best of the best. An hour later, I sat in my Tahoe as the man drove out the showroom doors. He wiped a tear across his plaid shirt sleeve. I ducked as his wild eyes searched around the parking lot but I made sure he never saw who or what or where the gift came from that day. Pulling out a sheet of paper, I had marked through white diamond truck for my dad.
I had also kept my art studio in Arlis, but I gave free lessons to anyone willing to spend the time to learn. After every new student, I put a tally mark next to fancy lessons with Pascal. This had been my life for over a year. I thought the little bursts of excitement would fade. If anything, it grew stronger and hit deeper. I owned that list; it no longer owned me.
This trip to Dallas had set the ground work for my most personal endeavor to date. The Anna House. Close to my old neighborhood, I bought a Victorian style, two-story house. It was roughly four thousand square feet. The carpenter said the building had the potential of being divided into three living quarters. In honor of my mother, I could house three families who needed a place to stay while visiting loved ones in the hospital. Once completed, I would mark off, the farmhouse at Sprayberry. I planned to build one in Arlis too. Dr. Mason and I had even talked about the possible linkage of the hospice ward to The Anna House.
I looked one last time at the kids playing skeet ball. Time to go home. Time to see Jess. My lips curled up in a smile as I thought about what I planned to tell him. I almost told him last night, but I wanted to see his blue eyes in person as I said the words. Taking out my phone, I dialed his number. It went straight to voice mail as it often did when he was out on the ranch. Stuffing the black box down in my purse, I turned up the radio listening to Brad Paisley. I was in a good mood as I drove from Dallas back to Sprayberry.
Jess wasn’t at the house when I arrived. I sat on the porch, watching the sun go down across the meadow. The sounds of crickets picked up as my feet moved back and forth with the porch swing. I called Jess again, but it went straight to voice mail.
I counted back and realized I’d called three times today without talking to him, which was not that unusual when I traveled at the same time the ranch worked cattle. I was ready for him to get home. It had been almost twenty-four hours since I’d last heard his voice.
I knew it might be a long night. The ranch could change like the wind; one minute everything was fine and the next, an all-out crisis. Jess could be tied up indefinitely. I’m sure he was at the barn, knee deep in something disgusting. My stomach twisted thinking of the awful smell and I choked down a dry heave.
I heard a truck pull up on the front side of the house. I waited, hearing the footsteps against the wrap-around porch. I couldn’t wait to see his sweet face. My heart beat fast as I thought about telling him what I found out in Dallas.
“Hey.”
“Oh, hey Dad. I thought you were Jess.”
“He probably won’t be home until late. I think the boys had a rough day out there. I heard something about it at the store.”
“Did Gunther get tired of spouting shit at the feed store and move on over to you?”
“Alex!”
I laughed at his frown. “Sorry.”
“You get the contractor set up?”
“Yeah. I think it will turn out good. It’s about five miles from our old house.”
“You go by and see it?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I wanted to, but I don’t know if I can.”
Maybe someday I would go by and see the little house with the garden. I worried it would look different than I imagined in my mind. It might be painted pink at this point, or the old tree could be bulldozed to the ground. I hated the idea of that place being something different than the picture in my memory. The sound of my phone interrupted my thoughts. I pulled it out, expecting to see Jess's face laughing on the screen. Instead, I saw Bobby scrawled across the top. “Hey, Bobby.”
“Alex…” His words disappeared in the stillness of the sun. I dropped the little box, hearing a thud on the beautiful porch overlooking our place on the meadow. I ran out past the stump. Sinking to my knees, I vomited the pizza across the grass and front legs of my jeans. No. This wasn’t happening. No. A large pair of arms lifted me up from behind. No…no…no!
“Come on, Pumpkin. Get in the truck.”
Clammy chill bumps covered my skin as I bounced around in the passenger seat. My father drove faster than I knew his truck should go over the meadow. I didn’t know who else followed, nor did I care. A dark cloud scooped over my fingers and wrapped in a vice grip across my shoulders. It coated me like a black cape concealing me within its elements. I fought hard to feel Jess, but that internal connection came back empty.
We reached the side of the ravine before anyone else he called. Bobby stood next to the edge, his clothes covered with dirt. I flung open the door before the truck ever came to a stop.
Some thirty feet down, I saw a horse and what I assumed was Jess. Skeeter perched next to them in the jagged area cut out by a creek. We’d ridden past it hundreds of times through the years, but never ventured into belly of the devil.
“Wait, Alex.” Bobby tried to pull me back. I slung an elbow straight into his eye, not caring if it hurt. I slipped and rolled all the way down; blood poured from my knee, soaking my jeans. I clipped my forehead on a rock right above my eye. The gash dripped down, blocking my vision. I wiped the wetness away on my sleeve.
Coming to a stop against the flesh of a tan horse, I recognized the soft coat of Katarina’s Revenge. The breeder had named her after some stupid divorce dispute. That horse had the temperament of a debutant bitch. Jess always thought she was so damn pretty with her light, tan skin
the color of butterscotch. She had never listened when I tried to ride her. I had hated every smug little noise she fired in my direction.
Skeeter reached over to help me crawl around to the other side of her silent body.
I screamed.
I screamed loud and shrill, like a dying animal howling into the sunset. My stomach twisted as I reached forward to touch him. My beautiful, blue-eyed boy no longer had a face.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I don’t know what happened. She spooked on the way back.” Skeeter’s voice shook on each word. “Not sure why. I think his foot got caught up in the stirrup. Flipped under from what I saw. Reigns tangled up. She wouldn’t stop. They fell down in here. Thrashin’ everywhere. I shot her. I was afraid to move ‘im though.”
Skeeter’s voice narrated the horror right before my eyes. Rocks had ripped his flesh down to his bones. The area around his right eye remained beaten to a bloody pulp; his eyeball dangled off loose to one side. Flies swarmed around the open wound. The bugs were touching him. I swatted them away, feeling the cool grip of panic. His right arm remained free while the left twisted back in a strange angle under his back. The rest of his pelvis and legs remained trapped under the butterscotch bitch that pulled him down into the pit of hell.
I touched his arm as tears ran down my cheeks. I touched his chest; his body felt warm. I wanted to wrap myself around it. I wanted to never let him go. The knots inside me twisted up tight with the impact of the shock.
Slipping my fingers next to his neck, I closed my eyes and waited. I blocked out the commotion at the top of the cliff. Come on, Jess. I focused on the sounds of the meadow; the sounds of our home. My fingers shook in the blood. His lips were blue. Jess wasn’t getting any air.
“Please,” I muttered, staring down at him. “Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me like this. You promised. Remember. You…pro…promised.” I choked on the last words. Everything in my life felt irrelevant and just plain stupid as his life dripped away onto Sprayberry’s dirt.
The Mason List Page 35
