Farah's Deadline

by Brenda Maxfield

  I gaped at her flashing eyes and flushed cheeks. Her passion shocked me into silence. She unclamped her hand from my arm like she was unlatching a locked gate. Her arm dropped to her side, and her face appeared ready to crumple.

  I couldn’t pull my eyes away. Seeing her so fragile made me feel bad. Little black dots swirled in the corner of my vision, and I felt my way back to the bed and sank into the spongy mattress.

  Lizbet’s voice softened. “You okay, Farah?”

  “Got dizzy for a second. I’m fine now.” The dots cleared and my breathing eased. I’d almost fainted — which had never happened before in my whole life. Only weak people fainted, and I wasn’t weak. I wiped my forehead and was surprised to feel dampness.

  “Don’t get Ned in trouble,” Lizbet said. “You have to come back.”

  “I won’t get him into trouble. I’ll come back. If I can see Pete for a few minutes, I can get this mess straightened out.” I put my hand on my throat and felt the even beating of my pulse. I was fine. Of course, I was fine.

  “Thank you.” Lizbet crawled onto the spread behind me and lay on her back staring at the ceiling. “I’ll wait here for my turn in the shower.” She closed her eyes, and if I’d crossed her arms over her chest, she’d have looked ready for a casket.

  I took a quick shower. I gave up the idea of having Ned stop by the Home for my clothes. I’d have to settle for my jeans, which I couldn’t button anymore, and a kelly green pullover. I peered into the mirror. There was nice button detailing around the neck so at least it wasn’t horrible. I brushed my hair until the red gleamed like new pumps. I smacked my lips to set my lip gloss and faced Lizbet, who was still on the bed.

  “How do I look?”

  She raised herself onto her elbow. “Beautiful. You always look beautiful.”

  I laughed and tossed my head, a move I’d perfected long ago. I knew the power of my hair, and I’d have to use it in spades today. “If you’re coming, you’d better get to it.”

  “I don’t feel good. I want to go, but I feel like I’m about to puke.”

  “Then go puke and get it over with.”

  She held her stomach and worked to keep a smile from her face. “Don’t make me laugh. You’ll make it worse.”

  I flung her a towel. “Lizbet, if you don’t go with us, I probably can’t go either.”

  She swung her legs around and sat up. “All right. I’m up.”

  I stood at the window the entire time Lizbet was in the shower, which by my watch was twenty-five minutes. I stared down the drive to the country road, waiting to see Ned’s car. Every second that passed made my stomach rise closer to my throat. What if he forgot? What if he didn’t come? What if he was back to judging me and never planned to take me anywhere?

  A red truck approached the drive. I stood on my tiptoes and squinted against the glare of the sun on the frost. It pulled in. Ned! I smoothed my hair, grabbed my jacket, and rushed to the stairs.

  “He’s here!” I called behind me. “Come on, Lizbet!”

  In my haste, I almost tumbled down the narrow staircase. I slapped my hand against the wall to steady myself, and a portrait went flying, crashing down the stairs.

  Mrs. Vaughn and Harold appeared at the base of the steps, worry creasing both of their faces. I slowed down and Harold bent with a moan to pick up the shattered frame.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling like a toad. “I didn’t mean to break it.”

  Harold wiggled the jutted frame, trying to put it back together.

  Mrs. Vaughn swatted his forearm. “Stop it! You’ll cut yourself. It’s a goner.”

  I crept down the rest of the stairs. “I’m sorry.”

  Mrs. Vaughn plucked the photo out from the broken glass. “No worries. The photo is still good. You can pick us up a frame in Edgemont today. Harold, give her some money.”

  “You shouldn’t pay for it. I’m the one who broke it.”

  “Harold,” Mrs. Vaughn repeated, with more volume. “Give the girl some money.”

  Harold shuffled off to do her bidding. There was a knock at the door.

  Mrs. Vaughn straightened her apron with a sharp tug on the oversized front pocket. “That will be your young man.”

  “He’s not my young man,” I said in protest, then closed my mouth. If he was mine, I’d never be in this mess. Ned would never have left a girl high and dry. Never.

  Mrs. Vaughn opened the door, letting in both Ned and a gush of shivery air. Ned stomped his work boots on the throw rug inside the door. He cupped his gloved hands to his mouth and blew, like he’d done the other day. “It’s a cold one,” he said with a wink to Mrs. Vaughn.

  She giggled and slapped his shoulder. “Goodness! You winkin’ at an old woman?”

  I stood behind the table, watching them with yearning. It was all so cozy. When Ned caught my eye, warmth crept up my neck and over my face. I raised my hand to my cheek and stared back. Some unspoken communication passed between us. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but it made me feel like maybe life wasn’t so desperate after all.

  Lizbet clumped down the stairs behind me. “Ned,” she said. The usual pleasure at seeing him vibrated through her voice. “I’m ready.”

  Ned nodded. “Then, let’s go. Come on, ladies. Mrs. Vaughn, I’ll have them back in a couple hours.”

  Ned’s truck had a bench seat in the front, so Lizbet climbed in first and straddled the gearshift. I followed, feeling the slick, well-worn vinyl of the seat. Outside, our breath had made puffs of fog, but inside the truck, it was halfway warm. I pulled the door shut with a mighty yank.

  Ned looked at us. “All set?”

  Lizbet nodded.

  “I have to stop at the drugstore for a new frame,” I said. “Can we go there first?”

  Ned jerked the gear into place. “Why don’t you go see your friend first? You can stay and talk with him while Lizbet and I get the frame. It’ll save time.”

  “Are you in a hurry?” Lizbet asked.

  “Dad wasn’t keen on my coming, but no. No hurry.”

  “Then why the saving-time business?”

  Ned didn’t take his eyes from the road. “Thought Farah might like as much time as possible with her friend.” He swung his head around, and his eyes bore into mine.

  I blinked and tried to read his message. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or trying to help. “Thanks,” I muttered.

  Lizbet clapped her mittened hands. “This is fun. Going into town.” Then with a quick shift, the smile fell from her face, and the mood in the truck darkened. “What do you mean Dad wasn’t keen about you coming?”

  “We have a back-up of cars to work on is all. He needs my help.”

  Lizbet pressed her lips together and folded her hands in her lap.

  “Don’t take it wrong. It’s the work, like I said.” Ned patted her knee.

  She nodded but kept staring through the windshield. “Right.”

  I leaned around Lizbet to Ned. “You work on cars?”

  “Sure do. Dad’s got a business. I’ll run it someday.”

  “Thought you guys were farmers or something.”

  Ned chuckled, shifting gears again, causing Lizbet to squeeze her leg into mine. “Because of our religion?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “I know we’re old fashioned, but that doesn’t mean we all work the farm.” He glanced at me, and I could see the laughter in his eyes.

  “Fine. My mistake.”

  The truck was old, and I grabbed the dashboard to stay even partially in place. Lizbet had gone quiet, and her face was without emotion. I could see Ned watching her out of the corner of his eye.

  “So, where are we going?” he asked me.

  “Do you know Edgemont?”

  “Pretty well.”

  “Okay, then go to Main and take a right on Eighth.” Even saying the street names made my heart rate increase. A flash of heat jolted through me in spite of the lack of heat in the cab. Would Pete be home? Would he welcome me?


  Everything hinged on it.

  “You got it,” Ned smiled and shifted again, the gears grinding. I cringed and he added, “It’s not my driving. Seems we have time to fix other people’s cars but not our own.”

  Lizbet turned to Ned. “Why don’t Dad and Momma ever come to see me?”

  Chapter Ten

  Ned exhaled, and his breath fogged up the windshield even more. “Lizbet, we’ve been over this. They can’t get away. Are you tired of me coming?”

  Lizbet shook her head, and grabbed his arm. “No. No, I like you to come, but I miss Momma.”

  His voice lowered into a tender whisper. “I know, and she misses you.”

  I shifted, pressing myself into the door. Once again, I felt like an intruder listening to them. Lizbet went back to staring out the window with her hands folded in her lap. Ned’s face was still tight. I could see his jaw working beneath the stubble on his face.

  “Not long now,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, but my spirits were on the floorboard right along with theirs. Impatience grew inside me, pressing out from my mind.

  I pulled my glove off and chewed the ends of my fingers. Ned glanced at me, and then refocused back on the road. No one spoke. We were in town and were turning onto Main. The pressure in my mind built, and a lump the size of a brick sat in my throat.

  When Ned pulled onto Eighth, I reached across Lizbet and grabbed his arm. The truck swerved, and Ned shook off my arm. “Farah! Knock it off!” he cried, yanking the steering wheel back into line.

  Lizbet’s breath whistled across my face.

  “Sorry. I’m sorry.” I leaned back into the seat. Then I lurched forward again. “No, wait, no. I can’t … What if Pete …” My mouth froze up, and I couldn’t finish.

  “What’s the matter?” Ned asked. He glanced at me and his voice softened. “Do you want me to go back? We don’t have to do this, you know.”

  The kindness in his voice made me shiver. “No. I’m going. I’ll go. I need to see him. He’ll help me.”

  Ned pulled to the curb and put the truck into park. “Do you need help?”

  I pointed to my stomach. “Of course I need help. I’m pregnant.”

  Ned looked at me with a calm that increased my shivering. “Farah, there might be others who could help.”

  We stared at each other around Lizbet, and I was drawn by his blue eyes as surely as if I’d walked through an open door. What did he mean? What others? Edie? Steve? I coughed and blinked. “No, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Ned shrugged, put the truck back into gear, and we continued down Eighth.

  I saw Pete’s apartment building and pointed. “Over there.”

  Ned signaled and pulled into the small lot. “Which one is his?”

  I pointed to the apartment on the bottom left. With four apartments, it wasn’t a big building. I glanced around for Pete’s red convertible. It wasn’t there.

  “I don’t see his car.”

  “Did you call? Does he know you’re coming?” Ned asked.

  “We can’t have phones at the Home, and I didn’t use the Vaughns’.”

  I didn’t want to admit the truth. I hadn’t tried to call because I was afraid. I didn’t trust what Pete would say.

  Right then, it all came gushing over me, and I was afraid I’d hyperventilate. I pressed my hand to my chest.

  “If his car’s not here, would he even be at home?” Lizbet asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “We can come back later,” Ned said. His forehead was creased with worry.

  “No. I can get the key. I know where he hides it.” The truck had come to a stop. I opened the door.

  “I don’t feel good about leaving you here alone.”

  “I’m fine. He should be home any minute. He never works Saturday morning.”

  Ned shook his head. “I don’t know. We can wait with you.”

  “No.” My answer was quick. I didn’t need an audience.

  Lizbet grasped the shoulder of my coat. “You won’t run off. You promised, remember?”

  “I won’t run off. I’ll wait till he comes home, we’ll talk, and then it will all be fine.” The step from the truck to the asphalt seemed a mile deep. My legs were long, but still, I had to maneuver with care, not to end up doing the splits on the patches of ice.

  “We’ll run a few errands and then be back for you.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I slammed the door shut and took a step back. Lizbet gave me a weak wave as they pulled away. Ned stalled at the stop sign and gazed over his shoulder.

  I took a huge gulp of air, and the coldness scraped all the way to my lungs. I hurried to the droopy, miniature evergreen, potted in the cement planter next to Pete’s door. I reached under the lower branch and felt the cold metal of his key. I pulled it out and slid it into his lock with a twist. The door opened, and I looked back at the truck, which still idled at the stop sign. I replaced the key, raised my hand, and Ned tapped the horn and drove off.

  He’d waited for me to open the door. A strange ache pushed on my heart. It’d been a long time since someone was so concerned about me. I shuddered as if shaking off a pesky bug. Couldn’t go there now.

  Even though it was mid-morning, the apartment was dark and full of shadows.

  “Pete?” I said in the stillness. My only greeting was the familiar hum of his dorm-sized fridge. I felt on the wall for the light switch. I flicked it on, and a lamp in the corner sprang to life with a stream of light. Seeing everything in the apartment was like a physical blow to my heart. I shut the door and leaned against it, trying to steady my sudden dizziness.

  My gaze latched onto the dreary plaid loveseat shoved against the far wall. How many times had Pete and I snuggled there, watching some stupid show on TV? His bedroom door was open, and moving as if in a trance, I crossed the narrow living area and looked inside. His blinds hung crooked to the bottom of the window, but a small shaft of sunlight streamed across the tousled covers on the bed. Everything swirled before my eyes, and I grabbed the doorframe to keep from falling.

  I closed my eyes and dropped my head. Breathe, Farah. Breathe. It’ll be okay.

  What did I expect, coming back to this place? Seeing everything. Smelling everything. Remembering everything.

  I opened my eyes and my vision cleared. I was on a mission, and I would see it through. I left his room and snapped the door shut behind me. I’d sit and wait. I knew he wasn’t working. He never got morning shifts at Markel Market. It was only a matter of time before he’d come through the door. I fluffed my hair and pressed my lips together. I could still feel the layer of gloss I’d slathered on before leaving the Vaughn’s.

  I sat on the edge of the loveseat and arranged my legs and arms in what I thought was an appealing pose. I straightened my posture and stared at the door.

  I figured I had at least an hour before Ned and Lizbet came for me. I checked the time — it would be enough.

  The digital clock on the table clicked the minutes away. They echoed like gunshots through the room. I couldn’t hold my pose any longer. Where was he? I jumped up and crossed to the window. I peered through the slats and watched the parking lot, balancing on one leg then the other. Thirty minutes had passed, and if he didn’t come soon we’d never have enough time to work everything out.

  I wandered around the room, counting. I could circle it five times in one minute. This was absurd. Where was he? I had to use the toilet, so I opened his bathroom door and choked back a gag. There were dirty clothes heaped all over the floor. The scrunched toothpaste tube had been tossed lidless into the sink. A wet towel hung over the shower stall door, and I was pretty sure it was beginning to mold. At least the toilet was clear. I held my breath and used it. When I was ready to flip off the light, something red caught my eye. I bent close to the sink and found a ponytail elastic.

  I picked it up, and there were two long red hairs caught in it. I stood transfixed, as if studying a portrait in a museum. Two red hairs. My hair
was red, but this wasn’t my holder. My fingers tensed, and I dropped it back into the sink.

  Think, Farah. Think.

  It had to be mine. Not many girls had long red hair, and what were the odds another one had been in Pete’s apartment? But I never wore a ponytail. My hair was one of my best features, and I wasn’t about to shove it into an elastic so it couldn’t drape over my shoulders.

  Did he have another girl? Another red-headed girl? Dread moved up my spine. Was he over me? Didn’t he love me anymore?

  I slumped against the wall. I needed to think. I stared at myself in the mirror and saw cold fear in my eyes. My mouth was drawn into a tight circle, and my face was two shades whiter than normal. Guys liked me. They always liked me. I was the one who did the breaking up. Guys didn’t dump Farah Menins. And Pete was a guy.

  This was new territory. New, horrid, couldn’t-be-happening territory.

  I shook my head. No. There had to be some stupid explanation for the hair. I was having Pete’s baby, and he would do the right thing by me. No matter what he’d said to me on the phone, no matter how cold he’d been, he’d do the right thing.

  I’d had a temporary lapse, was all. I’d forgotten who I was. I was not a person who got dumped.

  There was a heavy knock on the front door. I jerked and snapped off the bathroom light. I hurried across the room and opened the door to Ned.

  “Farah, I need to get you back. Did he come home?” Ned looked beyond me, scanning the room.

  “No. He never came home.” I pushed against him to leave the apartment. “It’s okay; I’ll talk with him later.”

  Ned studied my face, but I made sure he didn’t see much. I pasted on a smile and it stuck tight. A hard determination coursed through every muscle in my body. I wouldn’t forget who I was again. Guys did not dump Farah Menins. Ever.

  Lizbet opened the truck door for me and said nothing when I climbed in beside her. Ned got in, and we headed back to the Vaughn’s.

  “We bought a frame,” Ned said.

  Lizbet handed it to me in a plastic sack. “It was cheap.”

  I took it and held it on my lap. My eyes were straight forward, the smile still stuck tight on my face.