Juniper Limits (The Juniper Series Book 2)

by Lora Richardson

  “I’m sure it was nothing.”

  “It sounded like somebody got hurt.”

  He tried to step around me but I blocked his path. “Probably just an accident. Dad’s always stubbing his toes. But I better get inside.” I needed him to leave, because I knew it likely wasn’t a stubbed toe or burned finger.

  “I want to see you tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” I was distracted by the thudding sound I heard behind my front door. “Bye.” I kissed him on the cheek and ran across the grass before he could stop me. I waved from the porch, hoping he’d drive off, but he just waved back and stood there, waiting to make sure I got inside okay. I placed my palm flat on the door, and waited a second to catch my breath and brace myself.

  “You shouldn’t have gone over there,” I heard my mom say. Her voice was muffled by the door between us, but I could hear the defensive timbre I’d heard so often before.

  A series of thumps and thuds set me on alert, and I opened the door in a rush and closed it quickly behind me. Dad had fallen backward into the end table, knocking the lamp to the floor and shoving the table into the wall.

  “Good grief, Todd,” Mom muttered, leaning over him to help him rise.

  He snickered and rubbed his hand over the back of his head, his hair flopping this way and that. She pulled him to his feet and he swayed as he held onto her hands. “It’s Saturday night, Donna.” Then he saw me standing there and looked at me a long while, as though trying to figure out what I was doing there when I hadn’t been there a second ago. “It’s Saturday, Celia.”

  “Yeah, Dad. It’s Saturday.” I tipped my head down and walked past them to Abe’s room, where I opened the door and peeked inside. I flipped on the light, and for a second my heart stopped to see his bed made and his room empty. Then I remembered that Abe was staying the night at Jeremy’s, and relief washed over me.

  I went to my own room and sat on the edge of my bed and looked out the window and down the street at the houses glowing with warm light. Were the people in those houses watching movies or baking cookies or folding laundry? Were they rocking babies or making love or crying into their pillows?

  I leaned back on my bed and pushed away what I’d seen when I arrived home. I touched my fingers softly to my lips, remembering the way Paul’s felt against them, the way his eyes touched every inch of my face, the way his hands felt on my body. And especially the way he didn’t let me ignore my fears, and how he didn’t let me check out when I tried to. Being present was scary, but I was beginning to understand it was worth it.

  21

  The crisp air bit at the back of Paul’s neck and swirled around his cheeks. He breathed it in deeply, until his lungs felt washed clean. He’d come to Celia’s house the back way, through the trees, just for a change of scenery. He hoped to convince her and Abe to come back to his house to watch a movie.

  He and Malcolm had expanded their business into the fall—they planned to rake yards on Sunday mornings. The summer heat had lingered this year, but this weekend seemed to mark the official start of fall. Leaves were falling and they’d had four customers today, and he hadn’t been able to resist stopping at a yard sale on the walk to the first job. He stood at the card table piled high with movies, and realized he didn’t know what kind of movies Celia liked. He grabbed a variety of genres, and figured he’d let her pick.

  He smiled as he thought about her picking a horror movie, and sitting through it without so much as a shiver, just to prove she wasn’t scared. Up ahead, Celia’s back yard came into view through the colorful trees. The leaves were thinning, making everything easier to see. He paused at the edge of the lawn, seeing that Celia’s mom sat in one of the folding chairs by the cold fire pit.

  “No need to be skittish, come on over,” she said to him, her voice scratchy and dim.

  He stepped toward her. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Y.”

  “It’s a little chilly, but it’s really pretty back here.” She gestured to the trees.

  He looked at Mrs. Young’s face. Her eyes were puffy and pink, the crying evident on her face the same way it appeared on Celia’s. “I could start a fire for you.”

  “No, but thank you. I’m enjoying it, actually. Summer’s too hot for me and I always welcome fall. I need to stack up that pile of firewood over there. That’s what I came out here for, but I got distracted by the beautiful trees.”

  She stood up and walked to the pile of freshly chopped firewood. She slipped on a pair of men’s work gloves that had been resting on the pile.

  “I’ll help,” he said, and joined her by the wood pile. Gloves on, she lifted a piece of wood and handed it to him, and he stacked it neatly on the grate by the house.

  They worked quietly for a while, and he noticed that her soft grunts of effort and some of her movements were just like Celia’s. He smiled at her as she handed him the next log, and she smiled back, looking a little surprised.

  “We don’t even have a fireplace,” she offered, chuckling. “We had a dying poplar tree in the woods, just a few feet in, and Todd cut it down this morning. This is just one of the branches. That was all he managed to drag out. We’ll use this wood for the fire pit—probably next spring. It needs to dry.”

  Paul nodded. “That’s a big job, cutting down a tree.”

  “Todd enjoys that sort of thing. He just fired up the chainsaw, and I steered clear. Abe wanted to watch, but I didn’t let him. I told Todd he couldn’t because he had to help me clean the oven, but really I was terrified the tree would fall on him. Todd thinks he knows what he’s doing, when half the time he’s just winging it.” She sighed. “Well, I suppose you’re here for Celia.”

  “I have some movies at my house, and I thought she and Abe might like to come over and watch one. I have popcorn and hot cocoa.”

  “Sounds cozy.” She smiled, but it didn’t displace the sadness that had crept into her eyes.

  “Do you want in on this movie and hot cocoa action? I could bring one over and we could hang out here instead of at my place.”

  “Oh, you don’t want to watch a movie here, Paul.”

  He took another log from her. “Sure I do. Why not?”

  She lifted her chin and squinted a little bit. “I can think of a few reasons why not, can’t you? By the way, how’s your mother doing these days? I hear she got a new job.”

  It was his turn to lift his chin. But when he met her eyes, he only saw compassion there. He looked up at the back door, and then into the kitchen window, searching for any sign of Celia. “Yeah, she got a new job. It seems to be going well so far.” The first few months of a new job were usually fine.

  Mrs. Young tugged off the gloves and slapped them together to beat out the dirt. “Thank you for your help with the wood, Paul, that was very kind of you. Celia and Abe aren’t here, though. They went to Bakerstown with Fay and Olive to do a little shopping.”

  He watched as she made her way over to the back door and pulled it open. “I think I’m going to make hot chocolate now. You got me thinking of it, and I won’t be able to get anything else done until I have some. I know it’s not what you came here after, but you’re welcome to join me.”

  Paul smiled and wiped his hands on his pants and was about to say yes, when Mr. Young’s face appeared in the doorway. “I’m heading over to Roger’s house.”

  “We talked about this already, Todd,” Donna said through gritted teeth.

  “You talked.” His voice was sharp as a blade.

  “And I thought you were listening.”

  At that, Todd’s shoulders slumped and he hung his head. When he spoke, his words had a smoother edge. “He just needs some help changing the brake pads. That’s all.”

  Donna’s arms flew up. “How many things can be wrong with one vehicle?”

  “I’m going, Donna. Don’t give me any trouble about it,” he growled.

  Paul saw the moment Mr. Young spotted him. His eyebrows knitted up in a glare. An intruder to this private moment, Paul turned and
walked around the side of the house, reminding himself that it was normal for people to argue. That everybody had bad days, and that Fay and her mom hadn’t whisked Celia and Abe away in order to give them respite from household tension, but because it was a normal thing to do.

  A few hours later, after killing time playing some video games and eating through most of the snacks in the pantry, Paul went back to Celia’s. On the walk there, he decided two things. He was going to figure out how to save up for a truck so he could be the one to take her places when she needed to get away, and he wasn’t going to leave her house until he saw her.

  Thankfully, she was the one who answered the door when he knocked. She bit her lip to contain her smile, and he couldn’t keep his hands from grabbing her hips and pulling her flush against him. She murmured a noise of satisfaction in his ear, and he whispered fiercely in hers, “Where can we go?”

  She tugged him into the living room and closed the door behind them. “This never happens, but I’m home alone.” Her fingers twined around his, and her eyes danced as she gazed up at him.

  “Where is everyone?”

  “We went shopping, and when we got back, Aunt Olive invited us over for dinner. I said I wasn’t hungry, so Mom and Abe went without me.”

  “And your dad?”

  “He was gone when we got home.”

  “What if he gets home and I’m here?”

  “I’ll just push you out my window.” She smiled. “It’s fine. Now quit worrying, and follow me.” She led him down the hallway and into her room, where she shut and locked the door.

  His heart thumped in his chest. They stood across the room from each other, the air between them getting thicker by the second. He needed to get himself under control. He went to the window and looked out. “I’m glad you have a one-story house.”

  She laughed lightly, and he turned back around. “Are you okay, Celia? I came by earlier, and things seemed tense with your parents.”

  Her face revealed nothing. “Everything’s good. Mom said you wanted to watch a movie.”

  He wanted to think more about what was happening with her mom and dad, but it would have to be later—he wasn’t capable of it at the moment. He leveled a fevered look at her. “I don’t have a movie on my mind right now.”

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breathing loud in the silent house.

  He swallowed thickly. “And last night? Was what happened with us…okay?”

  She nodded, and her lips parted. “Paul.” Her voice was barely a whisper, halfway to being a plea. He crossed the room in two steps and crashed his mouth down on hers. They fell backwards onto the bed, her body beneath his, her lips beneath his, her pounding heart beneath his pounding heart. He pressed his tongue into her mouth, and she groaned as she wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist.

  After some time, when the frenzy had abated slightly, he lifted his head to check on her. He studied her eyes, and she was present—right there with him. She didn’t look away like he feared she might. Instead, she reached up and touched his cheek with her fingertips, letting them wander all over his face, down his neck, and to his chest. Satisfied that she was okay, he pulled her closer and fastened their lips together again.

  A scant hour later, the creak of the screen door and the thud of heavy footfalls in the kitchen sent Paul right out Celia’s window, and he flew all the way home.

  22

  “I wish Fay still lived with us,” Abe said—too loudly, because his hands were over his ears and he couldn’t hear himself talk.

  I reached out and pulled his hands off his head. I shushed him, and whispered, “I do, too, Abe. But she doesn’t, and we’re fine. It’s your move.”

  A dark part of me was bitter that he wanted Fay at a time like this. Jealous. I wanted to exterminate the mean parts of myself—the angry parts, the selfish parts. If I could just aim a can of bug spray at them and have them fall writhing to the ground, I’d be better off.

  Abe drew a card and tapped his blue game piece around the squares of our old Sorry game board. From the kitchen, the sound of slamming cabinets and clanking pots grew more intense. Dad believed there was still a bottle of whiskey somewhere in the house, and that Mom had hidden it. She hadn’t, but there was no way to prove a thing like that to him.

  I’d just keep Abe’s mind off it, and it would pass. This was just a minor backslide. Dad could get it back under control. Just yesterday after dinner, he took us for a drive. He said we should take advantage of the evenings while there was still a little daylight left. I’d always thought going for a drive in the country was boring, but it did remind me of being six years old. Mom even sang along with the radio like she used to. So this setback was nothing. It didn’t mean anything.

  Abe landed where my game piece was, and he bumped me back to start. “Sorry!” he gleefully sang. “Revenge is sweet.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him, but his eyes widened as a knock sounded on my door. Abe scooted back until he leaned against the wall by my bed, mostly hidden from view. I stood and opened the door.

  “Celia, I hate to do this,” Mom said. Her eyes pleaded with me not to make a fuss.

  “How much?”

  “I think twenty ought to do.” She trained her eyes on the floor.

  I walked to my dresser and opened the third drawer down. I fished the purple box from behind my stack of jeans, and opened it. I counted out twenty one-dollar bills and handed them to Mom. This was my tip money. I’d been giving her my paltry paycheck as long as I’d been working at Heidi’s, as my contribution to the household. The tip money had always been mine.

  She took the stack of bills from my hand, her lips pursed. She didn’t meet my eyes as she said, “I’m sorry,” instead of I’ll pay you back. I wouldn’t be seeing that money again. Abe and I didn’t move from our places as she shut my door. We listened to her footsteps as she walked back to the kitchen. There was some murmuring, and then the back door swung shut with a thwack, and the car tires peeled out as Dad drove away.

  Abe let out a big sigh.

  I drew a card and moved my game piece. “It’s your turn.”

  “I don’t feel like playing anymore.”

  “Want to watch a movie instead?”

  “Nah. He’ll be back, right? I’m leaving.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  His face contorted in anger. “I live here, you know. I know what comes next. And I’m leaving.” He got to his feet, toeing the game board and knocking over the pieces.

  “You’re leaving?” My pulse thrummed in my ears. This wasn’t like Abe.

  “Yeah. Why should I stay?” He stalked out my door and slammed it behind him.

  A rising dread spread through me. I’d worried this would happen. Abe was too softhearted, too gentle of spirit to live in a house like this. I was hard enough to take it, but I knew it would take him down eventually. And there was nothing I could do about it.

  I went to the kitchen, and found Mom at the table, her head resting on her folded arms. I wanted to talk to her about Abe. I wanted her to tell me he’d be fine. “Mom?”

  “Abe went to Jeremy’s. Your dad will be back in a few minutes, but he’ll probably sit out back. Why don’t you just go stay in your room?”

  I pulled out a chair across from her and sat down.

  “I just want to be alone, Celia. Can I just have a few minutes to myself?”

  Fine. I scraped my chair back across the linoleum. I’d go sit in my room alone. Maybe I’d practice putting on my new false eyelashes. That way I wouldn’t dare cry.

  Twenty minutes later, I batted my eyes at myself in my bathroom mirror. They looked spectacular. Mom had turned on the kitchen radio and I could hear her singing softly over the light clank of washing dishes. Then the back door opened and closed, and Dad’s boots clunked around the kitchen. He said something about the price of whiskey. Anger made my throat raw.

  I tiptoed to my open bedroom door and closed it without maki
ng a sound. I slipped on my shoes, put on a sweater, and absconded out my window. The crisp evening air woke up my lungs. I’d go see Paul. I didn’t know if he was home, but I could find him if he wasn’t. The swirling madness started up in my belly, the way it did whenever I thought about him, and I pushed my worries aside.

  Only a few streets over, bright red fabric halfway up a tree caught my eye, and I paused. Closer inspection revealed it was a backpack, and beside it dangled a foot wearing a worn out sneaker that I knew was getting too small.

  I gripped a low branch and swung myself up into the tree, heaving my body up a few more branches, thankful it was fall and my long clothing protected my knees and elbows from the bark. When I reached Abe, I straddled the branch beside him and held on to another branch for stability. He didn’t look at me, only glared out at the street through the sparse, yellow leaves.

  “I thought you were going to Jeremy’s.”

  He shrugged.

  “I’m not going to tell Mom you lied, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  His head swiveled toward me. “I didn’t lie.”

  “Oh, so you are at Jeremy’s? Has he moved into this tree?”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “I went there, okay? And now I’m here.”

  I scooted down the branch so I could get a closer look at him. He face was red and blotchy. “What happened, Abe?” He didn’t say anything. I wanted to shake it out of him. “Tonight sucked, but one bad night doesn’t mean things are back to the way they were.”

  “Things always go back to the way they were.”

  “That’s true until the one time they don’t. It could happen.”

  “It won’t happen, but that’s not why I’m in this tree.”

  I reached out and flicked him on the knee. “What happened at Jeremy’s?”

  He didn’t even flick me back. He leaned his head against the tree and looked up as he spoke. “I knocked on his back door like always. He opened the door, and I asked if I could hang out. His parents were at the kitchen table behind him. He asked if I could stay, and his mom said no, not tonight. She said he had to study for his science test. We do have a test tomorrow and I know he’s got a D in that class, so even though they’ve never told me I couldn’t come in before, I understood.”