“Ok Mom. I'll be on the computer if you need me,” he replied, turning to head for his room.
“I thought I would make chicken pot pie for dinner tonight. It was your father's favorite,” she called out after him.
“Sounds good, Mom. The veggies are in the freezer,” Andrew yelled back as he opened the door to his room. He could hear his mother rooting around in the kitchen for the various pans and supplies as she started dinner. He sighed again as he sat down at his computer desk and turned on his laptop. The fan whirred to life as he waited for it to boot, feeling beaten yet again by groceries.
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“The groceries are just part of it. A symptom of the whole disease. She just can't get past this and she refuses to get help. I made her an appointment at a therapist, and she refused to go because she said, and I quote, 'I'm not sick Andrew! Nothing is wrong!' I think she lives in this world where Dad is just missing and will come home any day now,” Andrew said into the dark, his voice full of anger and pain. I sat and listened to him vent about his mom, listening quietly as I thought about how his mom got to this point.
It had been almost two years since his dad died. Two days after high school graduation, Andrew's dad had gone to replace a power transformer and never came home. The last memory of his dad was talking to him that morning, his mouth full of cereal as they discussed his plans for college. Andrew had a scholarship to Colorado State University and plans to go on to medical school after that. Mr. Miller had been so proud of him. He had told everyone in town that his son was going to be a big fancy doctor someday, the biggest grin on his face.
Andrew was at my graduation party when a police officer arrived to get him and his mom. I can still see the haunted look on his face as the police cruiser took them away to the morgue. He told me later the coroner said his dad never felt anything, the electric shock was so strong. Andrew could never decide if that was true or if the coroner was just trying to comfort a grieving kid.
Charles Miller had been a good man. I remembered him working long hours, but always coming home to tuck Andrew in at night as a kid, even if he left right after to get back to work. He had loved Andrew more than anything in the world. Andrew had known that things between Charlie and his mother weren't perfect, but growing up he had always had two loving parents. His parents had a happy relationship, but even as a teenager, I had noticed that they were more friends than lovers.
Andrew's mom took Charlie's death really hard. I remembered her laying in bed for months after the accident, barely moving and refusing to eat. Andrew spent a lot of time at my house that summer, his own house too full of pain. Andrew had been incredibly grateful when my dad had helped him arrange the funeral, as his mother was in no condition to do it. Andrew had no idea if he wanted to be cremated or buried, and no concept of how to arrange any of it. When he had to sign the papers to release his father's body, he went with my dad. When my dad came home, his shoulder was damp with tears and he had tear marks on his own face. I never said anything about it, but I was glad someone had been there for him.
We were supposed to leave for college together, but when the water was turned off because Audrey forgot to pay it, he canceled his plans to go to college and took over. His father's life insurance paid off most of the mortgage, and Charlie had saved up enough to keep the lights on for a while. It had taken a lot of time, patience, and help from my dad, but Andrew had finally gotten his father's affairs in order and the bills sorted out.
When money started to get low, he told his mom it was time for her to go back to work. She seemed confused at first, but she had sat silently as he told her he was putting off school and getting a job at the local hardware store. He told her he would take care of her, but that he needed her help to make ends meet. He had called me that night because he could hear her crying through the walls.
The next morning, he woke up to find his mother making eggs in the kitchen. It was the first time she had seemed alive since the accident. A few days after that she resumed her job as a nurse at the local emergency clinic. Things had slowly gotten better after that, and he had even hoped that he might still be able to go to school. That hope was quickly dashed when he went away for a week to volunteer with the middle school's outdoor education program and came back to find his mother in the hospital after a nervous breakdown.
She had panicked being on her own, the fear of Andrew leaving her like Charlie did completely overwhelming her. She had even called me half a dozen times in a panic trying to find Andrew. No matter how many times I told her where he was, she didn't believe me. I had eventually sent my dad to check in on her. That's how she got to the hospital. She was certain Andrew was gone forever. It had taken a week to get her to go back to work, and another month before she was back to 'normal'.
“I don't want to stay stuck in this stupid town because Mom can't be alone. She wasn't like this when Dad was around. Gramma says she wasn't like this growing up- she used to be fearless. Now all she is just a giant ball of fear walking around in skin. I don't know what to do. I hate this,” he finished softly, the energy gone from his voice.
A car passing by made the tear streaks on his face shine briefly. I hurt for him. Andrew was so much better than I could ever hope to be. He didn't deserve this. I put my hand on his shoulder, touching him gently to let him know he wasn't alone. I never wanted to let go.
“Andrew, I don't know if I can help at all. If I can, you let me know. If you want, I'll take her down to the city sometime if you want some time to yourself. Or whatever you need,” I said gently. I could feel him take a deep breath, shuddering slightly as he let it out.
“That would be great. Actually, just getting to talk to someone about her is great. Thank you Holly. I know you don't want to be here, but I'm glad you're back. Next time, you get to spill your guts about why you're back; more than just 'things didn't work out'. But seriously, thanks for making me vent. I needed it,” I could feel him move his hands through the dark to wipe his cheeks before placing his hand on mine. His hand was warm, his heat seeping into me, connecting us. The air seemed to crackle with potential. I started to move closer to him, wanting more of him, but his phone buzzed, discharging all the electricity in the air. He let go of my hand to pick it up, our connection broken.
“Mom, I told you I would be there soon... I'm fine, Mom. I'm with Holly, remember?” I sat back into my chair, feeling a strange thrill still lingering in my hand where he had touched me. I had never felt that kind of connection before. I could hear his mother over the phone, her electronic voice squeaking about dinner and worry. He put his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “Time to go.”
I started the car back up, blasting the defroster to remove enough fog from the windows to drive. It wasn't far, and by the time I reached Andrew's house, I could see clearly. He hopped out of the car and walked slowly up to the front door. As he reached for the handle, his mom opened the door, a look of relief filling her features. She waved to me as I backed out of the driveway, the warm light from the house spilling out into the night. It looked exactly the same as when my dad used to drop Andrew off after soccer practice. It made me heartsick for simpler times as I drove home, remembering how simple life was when we were children.
Chapter 3
First some grass, then a bush, jumping to a twig, to old pine needles, then winding up the base of the dying pine, feasting on the dry fuel. The flames danced and played, gleefully jumping from grass to bush, feeding and consuming without end. The light grew brighter the more it fed, gray smoke beginning to cloud the stars.
“It is a shame to hear about that whole West divorce nonsense,” Mrs. Thatcher told me as she put her groceries up on the conveyer belt. It was a slow enough day that I was grateful to have her in my line. Mrs. Thatcher was the local busybody. She knew the gossip about almost everyone almost as soon as it happened. She had lived in Conifer for as long as anyone could remember, and had been airing everyone's laundry for just as long.
�
�I never liked that Barbara,” she confided in me as she put corn flakes up onto the belt. “Always too high and mighty for her own good. I never really understood why Ray married her, especially after he mooned after Audrey for so long. Barbara was never any good for him. In fact the other day-”
“What? What do you mean, Ray and Audrey? Audrey Miller?” Groceries piled up as the conveyer belt skid to a stop. Mrs. Thatcher looked up at me, surprised by my sudden interest. She looked like an owl, her big glasses magnifying her eyes and the feathers in her old-fashioned hat tipping over her face.
“Well, she certainly wasn't Audrey Miller back then. Back then she was Audrey Oscars,” she said putting a bag of apples up.
“What did Ray West have to do with Audrey Oscars?” I questioned carefully, making sure I got the names right. I knew both of them had grown up in this town, but I never considered the idea that they might have known one another more than that.
“Ray West and Audrey Oscars were sweethearts. All through high school. The whole town thought they were going to get hitched. When Ray graduated high school, he got a job at the hardware store just so that he could wait for Audrey to graduate. I heard they were engaged, but they were waiting to get married because her daddy wouldn't consent until she was out of school,” Mrs. Thatcher bobbed her head, the feathers swaying gently above her. My conveyer belt was still frozen, her cereal box clenched in my hands as I listened to her, nodding her on for more. The old woman seemed almost flustered at the sudden attention, but she continued, whispering in a loud conspiratorial tone.
“They were so sweet together, everyone was sure they would be married that summer she graduated. Something happened though, never did find out exactly what. That Audrey could be a feisty one when she wanted to be. The summer Audrey graduated, she went on off to college right away and left Ray all alone,” she said as she leaned forward. I stood transfixed as she continued, enjoying having a rapt audience for once.
“Well, poor Ray was heartbroken. He had waited for her, and then she left him high and dry to go off and live the college life without him. That's when he got with Barb. I always thought it was his way of getting back at Audrey for leaving, but he married Barb that same year. Luke was born not long after that. Ray was never the same after Audrey left. I always thought they would get back together and work things out, but then Audrey came back to town carrying Charlie's child, so apparently neither one of them was too lonesome.”
Mrs. Thatcher sniffed, looking at the full conveyer belt as I stood there holding her cereal and absorbing the information. She sniffed a little louder, giving me a pointed look. I jumped and scanned the box, my body going through the motions as my brain worked through what I just heard. Something in the story called to me, something important, an answer that was just dangling out of my reach, a solution to a problem I had been working on all day without realizing it.
I nearly dropped a can of beans on my foot as it hit me. Audrey and Ray. Audrey needed someone in her life to help keep her stable; Ray needed someone to balance out his hectic work life and give him a stronger home presence. If they fell in love again, they could solve each other's problems. It was perfect.
“You all right, Holly? You look like someone just doused you with cold water,” Mrs. Thatcher said peering at me through her glasses. I grinned at her as I put the can of beans into her bag, feeling hope surge through me.
“I just had a great idea hit me, Mrs. Thatcher. Your total is $102.97.”
“Oh, I have coupons dear,” she said, digging into her purse, the feathers on her head bobbing up and down.
Audrey and Ray. It couldn't be too hard to get them back together, especially if they had been so close once. My fingers itched to pull out my phone and text Luke and Andrew my idea, but it still felt too new to share. I needed to have a plan before I told either one of them.
“Do you need any help out to your car today, Mrs. Thatcher?” I asked handing her the receipt.
“No dear, I'm fine. It was nice chatting with you,” she chirped as she pushed her cart out towards the door. The feathers in her hat floated gently above her, her words echoing in my head. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching, and then pulled out my phone. I didn't want to wait, I had to tell someone. The text message was as straightforward as it could be, but every word brought me new excitement.
I have an idea that could help Luke.
I hit send, electric excitement pouring through me. I knew Andrew would be at work, but just sending him the message made me feel intoxicated with hope. This was going to be great. I let my brain buzz through ideas, glad to have something to think about other than myself.
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This was not working.
I sat in a sea of crumpled paper, my chair a lone boat in an ocean of failed ideas. I had tried typing my ideas on how to get Audrey and Ray together on my computer, but it felt so impersonal. So, instead, I sat massaging my cramped fingers and staring at yet another blank page. I picked up the piece of paper and smashed it into a ball, tossing it towards the waste basket just to get it out of my face. I missed and it bounced off my dog's head. Shadow raised her head to smell it, her big brown eyes curious, but finding it nothing but frustrated ideas, resettled back into her nap.
It had seemed so easy at first glance. Audrey and Ray had fallen in love once, I knew they could do it again. I had buzzed through my shift, sprinted home and hopped on the computer for research. Fast forward two hours and I had no results. Everything I found was either too complex or too reminiscent of “The Parent Trap”. I had no idea how to get these two people to fall in love, let alone how to get them in the same room. My balloon of excited hope was quickly deflating, reality a slow leak sinking it. My phone chimed, the noise startling me.
Just got your message. You have an idea to help Luke?
I stared at the message for a good minute, trying to decide if I should even tell him my idea. It sounded stupid now, and the last thing I wanted was for him to associate me with stupid. I regretted sending him the first message, but I had been so excited. Future me wanted to take away past me's phone.
I thought I did, but I don't think it is going to work.
It was a couple of minutes before my phone chirped.
That's because you always over think things. On my way over.
I tossed my phone onto my desk, grimacing at the thunk as it landed. It had seemed so simple. So deceptively simple. Get two people to fall back in love. People fall in love everyday, it couldn't be that hard. Yet, somehow, I could not come up with a plan to save my life. Frustration boiled up in my core, I could feel it rising the longer I thought about it.
“Seriously, you should lock your door. If I were robbing the place, I would have all the fancy silver by now,” Andrew said walking nonchalantly into my room. I could tell he had just finished his workout at the gym. He had his dark blue sweats on over his gym shorts and t-shirt, the hair around his temples still damp with sweat. He knelt by Shadow and began rubbing her ears.
“Yeah, well my super smart guard dog would have ripped you to shreds,” I retorted as Shadow's foot began to twitch with pleasure. Andrew sat down next to her on the floor, and she put her big yellow head into his lap. Shadow had always loved Andrew. I always thought she had good taste in men.
“So, what's this idea for Luke?”
I sighed. “Well, it isn't really all that great of an idea. Why are you over here anyway?”
“Didn't want to go home. No changing the subject- what's the idea?” he countered.
“Fine,” I stuck my tongue out at him and took a deep breath. “I found out something at work today; Mrs. Thatcher was in my line. Did you know that your mom and Luke's dad were high school sweethearts?”
“Seriously?" he said. He thought about it, even going so far as to put his finger on his chin. "That explains some things. Remember that time in elementary school when Luke and I told everyone in school we were brothers. Now I finally get why Mom yelled at me. And all the we
ird looks from the neighbors. I guess it wasn't too far from the truth. If things had turned out differently, we would have been brothers,” he said with a laugh.
“I remember. We were just starting second grade and I was pissed because you two wouldn't let me be your sister. Luke said it wasn't believable. Like you two were anything close to believable,” I shook my head, smiling at the memory.
“So, they dated. How does this change anything?”
“From what I heard, it was more than just dating. Apparently they were engaged.” I paused watching him carefully. “What if we got them back together?”
Andrew's hand stopped petting Shadow. She whined and bumped her nose against his hand, asking him politely to continue. He moved his hand absentmindedly across her head, and she settled back into his lap, contentment radiating out her furry body.
“You mean, what if we had my mom date Luke's dad?” His head tilted slightly and his eyebrows knitted together above his blue eyes.
“Yeah, we get them back together. If it worked, it could solve a lot of problems.” I bit my lip, feeling stupid. His brows somehow pushed closer, so I continued. “If Ray had Audrey around, then that would make a better family life. Tyler could come back. If Audrey had Ray, then maybe she wouldn't need you so much, and you could go to school.” I said with a shrug, waving my hand dismissively before continuing.
“That was my idea. But who am I kidding? It's a long shot and a lot of what if's. The more I think about it, the less and less it sounds like a good idea," I said, trying to dissociate myself from the idea. "Besides, I can't even come up with a way to get them back together that doesn't sound like a sugar hyped thirteen-year-old made it up. I'm sorry, it's a dumb idea.”
Fire Always Burns Page 3
