Saving Thomas

by A. L. Moore

  Don’t what, get the wrong idea? Don’t think that this changes anything? Don’t think I’m into you? I hadn’t forgotten his words in the barn. "No meaningless sex."

  “Save it, Thomas,” I started, holding my hand up to stop anymore word vomit from spewing from his mouth. Closing my eyes for a quick moment to calm myself, I opened them back and calmly said, “No need to explain.” There was no need to show he’d gotten to me, again. “It’s cool. We’re good.” Opening the door wide, I reminded him to grab his shirt and for once, I left him.

  ***

  I locked my bedroom door last night before lying down for a sleepless night, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He never came. Oh, he came to the house alright. I heard his heavy footsteps not long after I’d gotten home, trudging up the stairs to his room. I’d laid awake for hours after I’d heard his door shut, listening, not that I expected, or wanted him to come, for that matter. Except that I did. But he hadn’t, and I was just going to have to be okay with that. I wouldn’t act like a child and run him off, not when he had things figured out. Thomas deserved to be happy even if I wasn’t going to play the role I’d thought. I had totally misjudged the situation last night and that was all on me. I’m the one who’d brought up the fact that I’d kissed him twice, making him feel sorry for me. That’s why he’d kissed me. If I hadn’t completely jumped him afterwards, it would’ve ended there. A sweet kiss to start our new relationship, as friends. Jeez, I’d thrown myself at him. Of course, he’d reacted. He was a guy if nothing else. But I could fix this. No awkwardness. I wouldn’t even bring it up. Never happened.

  “Do you want eggs,” I asked Jenny as she climbed into her seat at the table. I’d gotten up early, which was easier since I’d never really gone to sleep, grabbed Jenny and made breakfast so Mama could sleep in for once.

  “No eggs!” Jenny protested with a plastic spoon against her plate. “O’s”

  I shook my head, “You can have your Cheerios, but you’ve got to eat some other food too. How about some sausage?” I poured a small pile of cereal onto her plate and went back to the stove to cut a sausage patty into pieces. As I was adding to her plate, the backdoor creaked opened. Smiling brightly, I spun around to grab the juice from the refrigerator.

  “Got enough for two hungry souls?” Daddy smiled, with his hat in his hands.

  Laughing, I reached for two more plates from the cabinet and started dishing out the eggs. There was an unwritten rule in my house that if you weren't out working, you served the ones who were. “I’m sure I can manage.” Daddy pulled out a chair next to Jenny as Thomas stepped into the room. My chest tightened, but I’d played this scene so many times in my head this morning, I was ready for him. “Would you like a roll or toast, Thomas? I asked, holding out the breadbasket.

  “Um…Whatever you have is fine,” he said, scrunching his brow.

  “Well, we have plenty of both,” I smiled, placing the basket on the table. “Go ahead and sit down, I’ll bring your plate.

  Back at the stove, with my back to them, I had to look at the ceiling to keep my emotions in check. It was harder than I’d thought it would be. Placing Thomas’s plate in front of him, I checked to be sure Jenny’s juice cup was filled and started for the living room.

  “No breakfast this morning, Bree,” Daddy called after me.

  “I’ve already eaten,” I lied over my shoulder before busying myself cleaning Jenny’s blocks in the living room.

  I could hear them discussing the new supplies that Thomas would need to run to town to get later in the day. It sounded like he was making a list of things he needed for his house, too. Mama came through as I started mindlessly restacking the magazines on the coffee table, giving me a peculiar look. I moved to the pictures on the mantle next, arranging the embarrassing school pictures in grade order. By now, I could hear Jenny banging her spoon.

  “I’ve got her, Mama,” I said, appearing in the doorway just as Mama stood from her chair. “Finish eating.” Again, with the look. It wasn’t like I never did anything around here. “I’m serious. Sit down. Jenny and I have plans.” I said, hating that I had to lean over Thomas to help Jenny from her chair. I could feel his eyes on me, but no way was I going there.

  “Horses!” Jenny squealed, grasping at my shirt.

  “What're y'all plannin' on doin', Breelynn?” Mama asked, spreading grape jelly on her toast.

  Did everyone have to stop eating to hear my plans?

  “Jenny’s going to help me do some exercises with Allendale. He’d been a little fidgety with his jumps lately.” I scooped Jenny into my arms and started for the back door.

  Daddy cleared his throat, his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Breelynn, after you finish-up with Allendale, don’t run off. Thomas is going into town, and he’s going to need some help.

  Seeing my face drop, Thomas cleared his throat and spoke up, “That’s really not necessary. I’m sure Bree has more important things to do than follow me around a hardware store.”

  “Non-sense,” Mama said, with the wave of her hand and a stern look in my direction. "You are going to need sheets, cookware, cleaning supplies…things to set up house. You'll need some help.”

  Rolling my eyes, I shifted Jenny to my other hip. She was really getting to big to be carried, but she loved being the baby, so we just kept doing it. “Mama, Thomas has lived on his own for years. I’m sure he knows what he needs more than I do.” Mama’s hand went to her hip as her eyes zeroed in on me in that you-were-raised-better-than-that look. “But of course, I’ll go along just to be sure he has what he needs.”

  Two hours later, I found myself climbing in the cab of Thomas’s pick-up truck. He didn’t even glance in my direction as he pulled out of the gravel drive. Staring out the opened window, I watched the farm get smaller and smaller until there was nothing but trees flying by on either side. It was the longest thirty minutes of my life. Reaching the hardware store without uttering a sound felt like a personal triumph. I climbed out, stretching my legs and combing my fingers through the mess the wind had swept my hair into. Thomas climbed out the other side without a word and disappeared into the store. Guess he didn’t need my help after all.

  I busied myself, watching the window shoppers as I leaned against the hood. The air smelled sweet with the delicious aroma drifting out of the steak house across the road.

  Thomas was gone less than ten minutes. Placing his purchases in his empty seat, he gestured to the store next door. “You comin' in?”

  “That’s what I’m here for.” I grumbled, pushing off the hood and wiping my hands on my jean shorts.

  “Look, Bree, about last night—”

  “Don’t,” I interrupted before he could tell me how being with me wasn’t worth his precious job. “Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen. Okay? Can we do that, please?” I stopped before entering the automatic doors and turned to face him. “Please, Thomas.”

  “Is that really what you want?” he asked, confusion evident on his face as he peered into my eyes.

  I nodded as we walked into the blinding fluorescent lights. “They should have everything you’ll need here,” I said, looking around the massive store. People of all shapes and sizes milled about, coming and going in every direction. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the list from the house. Mama had written most of it, making sure we didn't forget the essentials. “This should make things go quicker,” I said, tearing the list and handing him one half. “Can you grab us two buggies, please?”

  “Two what?”

  “I’m sorry,” I scowled at his grin. “I didn’t realize you’d gone all Yankee on me. “Two shopping carts.”

  He chuckled and disappeared back out the doors we’d just come through. We agreed to meet back up in twenty minutes to see how things were coming along. I had my cart filled in ten with everything from a can opener and trashcan, to frozen pizzas, and a microwave. The next ten minutes, I spent grabbing a few things that weren’t on the list, but I remembered Thomas liked.
I tossed in his soap of choice, a few cans of BBQ chips and the newest football magazines. I’d seen him eyeballing them when we’d come in. Once Thomas met up with me, I did exactly as instructed and sent him on a wild goose chase for a brand of laundry soap that didn’t exist, so I could pay with the credit card Daddy had given me. Daddy had offered to give Thomas a check as a housewarming gift and Thomas had refused. This way, he couldn’t turn it down. Not unless he wanted to stand in the long line at Customer Service.

  I was already waiting at the truck by the time he found me. The two guys who’d helped me out, heading back inside.

  “You know I’m paying you back,” he said miffed, closing the tailgate.

  “You’ll have to take that up with Daddy.”

  After unloading our loot, we took off to a furniture store. Like before, Thomas waited on me at the front of the truck before going inside. “Do you think you could help me pick-out a few things? I want to get a couch, a recliner and maybe a bed.”

  “Sure,” I said, walking through the door he held open. “I might need to call Daddy before—”

  “If you even attempt to pay for anything else, Bree, you will need another ride home.”

  A salesman came up before I could argue, showing Thomas a sales ad and letting us know the layout of the store. Once the man disappeared back to his desk, and the book he’d put down when we’d come in, we found ourselves on the side of the store set up like living rooms. There were only five styles to choose from, though the salesman said they came in a multitude of colors. Thomas chose a black leather couch and matching recliner, without sitting in either. He’d had me try them out instead. I wasn’t thrilled about the leather but with the mud on the farm, I knew he needed something easily cleaned. Besides, it was comfortable and what it lacked in texture could be made up with the cozy throw-blanket I’d bought from the list. Next, were the dining sets, which Thomas walked right by until I pointed out that if he ever had a guest they might not want to sit in the floor and eat. Reluctantly, he’d grabbed the sale’s slip from a small, rectangular wooden table and four chairs.

  By the time we reached the bedroom suites, I was actually having fun. “You have to try them out,” I said, pushing down on a large queen-sized mattress.

  He smirked, crossing his arms. “Hop on.” He gestured with his head, amused.

  “I’m not going to be sleeping on it.”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, he bounced a little and started to get up. “Feels good to me.

  “No, Thomas,” I said, pushing his shoulders, “You have to lie down. See how it feels on your back.” I squealed when he grabbed my waist and pulled me down with him. “Thomas!” I started, rolling as quickly as I could off of him.

  “You promised an opinion,” he reminded, turning his head to face me.

  “I don’t remember promising.” I bounced a little and turned over to my stomach.

  “Semantics,” he shrugged. “What do you think?”

  “I love it, Thomas, but it doesn’t matter what I think. What do you think?”

  “If you like it, it’s good enough for me,” he said, sitting up just as the salesman arrived. “We’ll take this one,” Thomas informed him.

  What was with this "We" business?

  The salesman took the sale’s slips from Thomas and jotted down the number of the mattress. “Would you like the bedframe, too, sir?”

  Thomas looked to me, waiting for an answer. I frowned in response, but he clearly had no intentions of answering. It was a beautiful frame, light gray with lines of a darker gray interwoven, creating a plank look that would fit perfectly in the Tyner’s old house. “He’ll take it.” I said, shaking my head in exasperation. Thomas was all smiles as he paid, and we made our way back to the truck.

  It was a quiet drive home, but the silence was more comfortable this time around. Instead of dropping me off in front of my house, Thomas backed the truck as close to his front steps as possible and hopped out. The last thing I wanted to do was step back inside that house after what had happened the last time, but it felt rude not to help carry things inside. Besides, it was preferable to Mama finding out I didn’t help. In the end, Thomas brought in the largest part of the bags while I found a place for everything. I was surprised to find the house spotless. Mama had clearly taken things into her own hands in our absence. Even the old refrigerator was sparkling and smelled of bleach.

  “I think that’s the last of it,” I said, sticking the sheets in the bedroom closet.”

  Thomas leaned against the counter, looking around the house that was actually starting to look like a house. I’d hung the two lake-scene canvases I’d picked up on the living room wall and the matching deep blue drapes. In the kitchen, I’d placed the new microwave and electric can-opener on the counter. There was a blue dish towel beside the sink, along with dish soap, paper-towels and even a small, glass cannister I’d filled with cotton-candy-bubblegum. “I sorta noticed you still liked it,” I said, biting my lip at the memory of how I knew that fact, when I saw him looking at the cannister.

  He grinned in a way that made me blush and look out the new, blue-checked kitchen curtains. “Never out-grew that one,” he chuckled.

  I was the first one to introduce that particular flavor to Thomas when he’d given me my first French kiss and then refused to return my gum. I'd purposely been chewing bubblegum every day in preparation for that kiss. He'd lucked out. One day sooner and it would've been sour apple. Not nearly as sweet.

  “When did he say the furniture would be here?” I asked, clearly trying to change the subject. Thankfully he let me.

  “It was all in-stock, so sometime after two tomorrow afternoon.” We looked at each other across the room for an awkward minute. At least, it was awkward for me.

  “Well, if there’s nothing else…” His face dropped a little at my words. “Are you coming over?”

  He shook his head. “Later. There’re a few things I want to get done around here first.

  “Right, the pipes and all.” I started through the living room, unable to keep my eyes from the wall next to the door. Ignoring the painful reminder burning in my gut, I reached for the doorknob. “Goodnight, Thomas.”

  “Night, Bree,” I heard just before the screen slammed behind me and the first tear fell.

  Chapter 23

  Peeking out at the warm light that woke me from a dream I could’ve died happy in, I noted a delivery truck backed up to Thomas’s front door. So much for arriving in the afternoon. It wasn’t much of a surprise. The people who lived around here had been here as long as I could remember, and so had their furniture. Thomas’s purchases were possibly the biggest ever made at that store. Pulling out a hair-tie from the small, wooden jewelry box on my dresser, I pulled my hair into a messy bun.

  “You up?” Mama, asked, peeking her head inside the door and letting in the sweet aroma of bacon and eggs.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I pulled on a pair of blue jean cut-offs and a razor-backed blue tank top. My legs prickled with chill bumps as the air from the hall moved over them, but I knew five seconds outside would cure that.

  “As soon as you finish getting ready, head on over and help Thomas.”

  “But I was going to help Daddy.”

  “I’m going to help your daddy today," Mama said in her no-nonsense voice. "Jenny is staying over at the Johnson’s. Thomas has a front room full of boxes that need sorting.”

  I glanced back at the clock to be sure I had the time right, yep, a quarter after seven. Apparently, I was the only one who’d slept last night. “Can I at least eat breakfast first?” I muttered, shuffling behind her into the hall on my way to the bathroom. Or had they moved onto lunch already?

  “There’s a plate in the microwave,” Mama called back as she made her way down the stairs. She looked younger in shorts and a t-shirt with her hair pulled back off her face than she did in the house dresses she’d clung to since Jenny’d been born.

  After devouring my two strips of bacon
and one piece of toast that was left, I trudged across the street, the warm pavement heating my bare feet. The sound of a hammer met me on the porch. Through the screen, I could see Thomas assembling the last leg on the kitchen table. “Mornin'.” He looked up as I pulled open the squeaky screen door. Setting the table upright, he added, “For some people.”

  “Hardy, har, har,” I scowled, planting my hand on my hip. “Forgive me for sleeping until good daylight. Consider it beauty sleep.”

  He chuckled, carrying the table into the kitchen. “The last thing you need is beauty sleep, Bree.

  “What do you think,” he asked, gripping the back of his shirt and tossing it on the leather couch that took up most of the opposing wall.

  His broad chest glistened in the sunlight filtering through the opened door, highlighting the dark tan he’d acquired in the past few weeks working the farm. I couldn't help but notice the sweat that ran like a slow leak down the center of the muscles he’d clearly been working this morning.

  What did I think? I think he needed to up the air conditioner and put some clothes back on. “It looks good there," I said, forcing my eyes from his chest to the new table. "Maybe inch it over just a little so it’s more centered.”

  “There?” he asked giving it a slight push?”

  “Perfect,” I managed a small smile. Grabbing a chair, I started doing what I could to make the living room a walkable space again. The dining room set did look great in the small kitchen, just like I’d imagined it would. I’d have to remember to bring over a vase to go in the center. Wildflowers grew in abundance in the backyard. I’d always taken Mama a handful every time I’d found myself over here, wishful thinking, the past few years. When I took the box cutter and started opening the last chair, Thomas stopped me.

  “Bree, if you don’t mind, I brought my things over this morning and set them in the bedroom,” he said gesturing down the hall to the smallest of the two. “Would you see if you can make sense of it while I finish up in here. I hate unpacking about as much as you hate assembling furniture.