“Hi.”
“You okay today?” she asks warily.
“Been worse,” I reply and put a loose piece of hair behind my ear.
She nods, but I see the uneasiness in her eyes. “Well, we have a whole lot of books to put in the system. A big church group donated earlier this morning.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, trying to sound interested, trying to be normal. Just be normal today, Sara.
*
“Well, hello there.” I hear and look up from my label gun.
“Can I help you?” I ask the man with dirty blond hair.
“Maci around? Oh, wait,” he says, a creepy smile spreading across his face. “You must be Sara?”
I narrow my eyes. “Yes, and you are?”
“I’m Maci’s husband. Where is she?”
I look back when she comes around the corner. “Lucas,” she says and I catch the apprehension in her face. She clears her throat. “Sara, this is Lucas, my husband.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“And you. Hey, you seeing somebody about those panic attacks? You know, Maci had ’em real bad—”
“Lucas,” she scowls. He looks at her as though she’s lost her mind.
“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking,” he says hatefully.
“Is there something you need?” she asks, looking embarrassed. “Can we talk in the back?” He nods as she turns around and shoots me an apologetic look. I give her a small smile and look back at him as he follows her out.
*
“Pleasure meeting you, Sara,” Lucas says as he walks out of the library. I nod and look back at Maci.
“Sara, I’m so sorry for what he said earlier. I didn’t tell him that so he could mock you. I simply said it in a way of remembering when I had them. I didn’t know he would—”
“It’s okay, Maci,” I cut her off. “I know I haven’t known you long, but I know you meant no harm.” I look away for a moment and bite my lip. “Does he treat you like that often?” I ask, directing my eyes back to her.
“It’s just Lucas. He doesn’t mean anything by it. Are you finished with the labels?” she asks, brushing my question off.
“Yes.” I look down at the stack of books I’ve completed.
“Okay.” She sighs, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “You can call it a day if you want. There isn’t much more to do here.”
“Are you sure? I can stay.”
“Yeah, I’m probably going to leave soon also. It’s a slow day, and I feel a migraine coming on.” She rubs her temple and inhales a deep breath.
“All right,” I say, neatly arranging the books. “You should come to the cookout we’re having.”
“Okay, I just might do that.”
“We are living in the old house on Eighteenth,” I tell her as I head for the door.
“I’ll remember. Thanks, Sara.”
“Sure.” I walk out and then remember I have no ride. It’s earlier than I normally leave, so Cash is still at work. Maybe I can walk over to the office and see if he can give me a quick lift home. I step outside and run a hand through my hair. Squinting from the sunlight, I step out onto the sidewalk and make my way to the office. Passing by streetlamps and people who seem to have a permanent smile on their faces, I nod politely and wonder why everyone is so happy. I cross my arms as I walk and look around. I pass by a small bar and hear laughter and music flowing out of it. I keep going, making my way by a barbershop and some small boutiques. Baskets of fruit sit outside a local grocery store, and flowers hang down from the streetlamps in large flowerpots. It’s like Stars Hollow from Gilmore Girls.
*
I open the door to the chief’s office, and a little bell rings above my head.
“Hello,” a short, pretty lady says.
“Hi, I’m Cash’s wife. I got off early and wanted to see if he could give me a ride home.”
“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Anne Rogers, Chief Rogers’s wife.” She sticks out her hand for me to shake, and I give her a good smile. I don’t want to embarrass Cash. I look like shit, but there’s nothing to be done about that.
“It’s nice to meet you also.”
“Here, have a seat and I’ll give him a call.”
“Thank you.”
I take my seat across from her and look around the big enough office. I see a hallway heading toward the back, and there are flowers placed wherever she can possibly fit them. On the filing cabinet, on the coffee table, on her desk, and there’s even a table just for flowers.
After she gets off the phone, she clears her throat. “Cash will be just a little bit. He’s dealing with the Kingsleys. Those two can never get along. They fight until sunrise, and then they make up and sleep all day.” She laughs. “Would you like some coffee? I know it’s a little late for it, but it’s still fresh. I make it all day for Drew.”
“I would love some,” I reply, still feeling the tiredness from getting no sleep last night.
“I’ll fix it for you. Sugar or cream?”
“Just black, thank you. I see you’re good with flowers?”
“Oh, yes, dear. I love me some flowers.”
“Anything you can teach me? I’m trying to grow a small garden.”
“Of course. Do you have good soil? They say success is in the soil.”
“I think so.”
“And what about sunlight? Flowers need a lot of energy to grow. I set mine outside on the sidewalk in the afternoons when the sun shines in front of the office.” She hands me my coffee and takes a seat back in front of her desk.
“Yes. There is plenty of sunshine.” I sip my coffee and hold the cup on my knee.
“Oh, good. Well, I’ll tell ya one thing. Don’t water those babies at midday. It’ll sunburn them. Also, if you get you a little Epsom salt and sprinkle it over your soil, it’ll make your plants grow healthier. Coffee grinds are good for it, too.”
“Don’t you be listening to Anne’s old wives’ tales.” I hear and turn around to see the chief standing by the coffeemaker.
“How do think my flowers got so pretty, Drew?” she says.
“’Cause I buy you Miracle-Gro.” He smiles and winks over at me.
“You do not!” she says sternly. He laughs and I can’t help but smile a little, and it’s actually genuine.
“So, what made you get off earlier today?” Anne asks me.
“Maci said she was getting a migraine and wanted to close up early.” I shrug.
“Oh,” she says, and I see her give Drew a look. I don’t question it, though. The bell on the door rings, and I see my husband.
“Hey.” He smiles, and his smile is always authentic when he looks at me.
“Hey, baby,” I reply.
“Cash, your wife and I were just talking about growing a garden. She says she has one started at your place.”
“Yes, ma’am, she does.”
“How’d it go at the Kingsley’s place?” Drew asks me.
“Fine. They had a little too much liquor, and Joe broke the coffee table when he fell on it. He tripped over Elizabeth’s shoe, and that pissed him off, so he started yelling at her. She started crying and throwing old bread at him, which made him madder because it had mold on it. The neighbors got tired of the screaming, so that’s why they called.”
I laugh. “She threw moldy bread at him?” Cash grins at me.
“Yep, you ready to go?”
“Yes. Anne, thank you for the coffee. It was the best I’ve had.”
“Oh, I’m happy you liked it.” She beams and takes the empty cup from me. “I hope to see you again. Let me know if I need to come get my hands dirty.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
*
“Remember when you were seventeen and got busted for climbing the water tower?”
“Yes,” I say, remembering back to what seems like a lifetime ago. “First time I was ever in a cop car.”
“But not the last,” Cash says as we head toward our place.
/>
“No, not the last.” I roll down my window and let the summer breeze blow through my wild curls. As I look out at all the farmland, my mind drifts back to too many Solo cups and a reckless night.
*
“I’m not going to get caught,” I tell Cash.
“Baby, I don’t care about you getting caught. Well, I do, but I care more about you getting hurt.”
“Oh, don’t be such a worrywart. You sound like my mama,” I throw back at him as I take the last sip of my beer and toss my cup to the side. My hands touch cold iron, and I grip onto the bars as I lift my feet off the ground. I shift my hands and grab onto another bar. Lifting my feet again, I begin to climb the tall tower. I look back down as Cash gets smaller and smaller, and soon he is so small I can’t even see the redness in his eyes from too many beers. My hair moves off of my shoulder as a cooler than normal summertime wind moves through it and brushes it across my face. I inhale deeply and keep going. I feel the sway of the tower the higher I get, and I can’t help but think this is freedom.
There’s something about being in control of your own life. I’m never in control of my mind, but at this moment I hold the power. If I release the bars, I probably wouldn’t even feel the impact. I make it to the top and step onto the platform. Spreading my arms wide, I close my eyes, and a strong urge passes through me to let go, jump. It’ll feel like flying, my mind says, but falling only feels like flying until you hit the ground. I look down when I see blue lights.
“Oh shit, Mama is going to be pissed.”
Chapter Seven
Cash
I stretch my arm across the bed, feeling for Sara. My eyes shoot open when I realize she isn’t here, and like always my heart picks up beats. I sit up, running a hand over my face, and toss the covers off. I look toward the bathroom and see the light isn’t on behind the closed door. She isn’t there either.
“Sara,” I call out, but no response. I get up, and when I open the door, I hear music. As I make my way downstairs, light blinds me and I have to shield my eyes. Almost every light in the house is on. “Sara?” Still no answer. I continue down the steps and round the corner. Sara is on her hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. Wearing old sweats and a T-shirt that’s tied up on the side, she sings along to the music, and I see sweat running down her face. “Sara, what the hell are you doing?” She still doesn’t hear me and obviously doesn’t realize I’m up. I walk over and stop the record player. She falls back.
“Shit, Cash.” Her hand comes to her heart, and she sits on her butt. “You scared the piss out of me.” She tosses her dirty towel into the bucket, and I move out of the way as water splashes onto the floor. “I’m sorry. Was the music too loud?”
“What are you doing? It’s four in the morning.”
She puffs a fallen piece of hair out of her face. “This floor is super dirty,” she says, waving her hand at it. “And so is the rest of the house… well, was…” She looks over the hardwood and shrugs.
“So, you clean it now?” I look at her like she has lost it, and maybe this time she has.
“I can’t freaking sleep. I tossed and turned for two hours, and then I remembered how I wanted to clean the floors, and then I said I might as well clean the cabinets, too.”
I look up and see all the plates and glasses sitting out on the counter.
“Sara, this is crazy. You’re going to feel like shit later today.”
“No, I’m good. I’m really good,” she says, grabbing her towel back out of her bucket and wringing it out. She gets back on her knees and continues scrubbing.
“But you haven’t slept.”
“I’m telling you, Cash. I feel great. I’m just going to get the house ready for later. We won’t have to clean a thing.” I stare down at her as she wrings out her towel again and does a wax on, wax off motion.
“Have you been taking your medication?”
She looks up at me. “I don’t need it.”
“What the hell do you mean, you don’t need it?”
“I mean, I don’t freaking need it. Now, get out of the way. You’re tracking. Did you wash your feet tonight?”
“This is not good.”
She sighs and rolls her eyes, sitting back on her heels. “If I was feeling like shit, wouldn’t I tell you? Why when I feel on top of the world, do you want to bring me down?”
“I’m not trying to bring you down, baby. But this is not normal behavior. People don’t get out of bed in the middle of the night and start scrubbing floors,” I say, looking up at the countertops. “Or clean out cabinets.”
“Why don’t you go back to sleep?” She stands and walks toward me. “I’ll be up in a little bit.” She kisses my lips, and I look down at her. I tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and put my hand on her hip.
“You can’t stop taking your medicine,” I say softly.
“I’ll start back tomorrow. Happy?”
“Yes, but I won’t be happy if you keep this up all night, so I guess I’ll have to help you finish.”
*
The cabinets have been refilled, and the house smells like lemons and Pine Sol. Sara dances around the kitchen, smiling and talking my head off. The knees of her sweats are wet and her tied-off shirt rides up, showing a small bit of her soft skin. She gives me a look when our song comes on—a song we danced to on prom night when couldn’t seem to get out of bed. I love when she has her hair pulled up in a careless way and ringlets hang down in the back and front.
“Do you remember our senior year when we skipped school and drove down to Lake Side? There wasn’t a person on the lake. It was just us two.”
“How could I forget? You talked me into skinny-dipping.”
She laughs. “You were so nervous.”
I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her waist. “You’ve always pulled me out of my comfort zone.”
“I’m crazy,” she says, turning around in my arms and looking up at me.
“Crazy beautiful,” I reply before I kiss her lips. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I lift her up onto the countertop. Love runs her hands down my arms, and I try to kiss her crazy away. Her lips are soft, and her curls tickle my face. Her smell––clean and raspberries mixed—surrounds me and I breathe in, trying to make my mind engrave it so whenever I need its comfort, it’ll be there. I pull her closer, and she wraps her legs around my back. Her hands go to my shirt, and I move away so she can take it off. Rosy red fingernails scratch my skin, and I grab her tied-up T-shirt and undo it. It falls loose, and I lean down and kiss her neck.
“Lift your arms.” She does and I pull her cotton shirt over her head. My face goes back to her neck, and I kiss every inch of her skin I can get my lips on.
Moving her from the counter, I bring us to the floor, and she slides her sweats and panties off. Skin I love gets covered in kisses by me, and I sink two fingers inside her. The vibration of her moans is felt through my face as I lick down her chest and across her stomach. Her hands run through my hair, and she wiggles beneath me as I move my face down farther. I let my tongue explore until she can’t take it anymore, and then I grab myself and lean up to kiss her mouth as I bury myself inside her. Her head falls back, and I grasp her thighs as she links her ankles behind my back. I love her crazy away, and in this moment, her mind belongs to me.
*
Charcoal burns on the grill as Mark flips the steaks over and I hand him a beer. The sun shines bright outside, but I can see a storm behind my girl’s eyes. She slept for maybe two hours earlier, and you can see no rest on her face. Leigh talks with her, but as nice as Leigh seems, Sara looks uninterested, and she keeps messing with her fingers. I take a sip of my beer as the chief and Anne pull up. My wife looks over at me, and I give her a smile. It asks her if she is okay, begging her to be.
“Drew,” I say as he walks up to me.
“Son.” He nods and shakes mine and Mark’s hands. Anne walks over to Leigh and Sara and hands my wife a bowl of something. “Anne made some po
tato salad. It’s good. I snuck a bit before we drove over,” Drew says. Mark laughs and I pretend to listen, but my attention is somewhere else. I watch Sara walk inside, and I tell the boys I’ll be back. The screen door shuts behind me, and I see Sara leaning against the countertop, fingernail between her teeth. I play it cool.
“Mark’s steaks are looking good,” I say, walking over to the fridge. She doesn’t respond.
“Want a beer?”
“No,” she answers.
I nod and grab the boys and me one. “Leigh seems nice.”
“Yeah.”
“Is Maci coming?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wanna give her a call and see?”
“No, Cash. Stop asking twenty questions.” She walks away from me, and I take a deep breath.
“Shit.”
*
Sara sits on the porch swing while Anne and Leigh lay the tablecloth down. The steaks are done, and we are ready to eat. I take a sip of my beer and walk up the steps.
“You hungry, baby?”
“Not really,” she says.
“Wanna try to eat something anyway?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’ll come down.” She’s being antisocial, but it could be worse. At least she is out here.
*
“You did a damn good job on those steaks,” I tell Mark as we clean up.
“Anytime you need a cook, just call me.” He grins.
“He does most of the cooking at our house,” Leigh says. “And I happily let him.” She smiles at her husband and then looks over at Sara. “Honey, if you ever wanna get out of the house, you just give me a call. We can plan something.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” She’s quiet and drawn-in, but she compliments Anne’s potato salad and tells everyone thank you for coming before she lies about having a headache and heads inside. I get looks, but I finish the cleaning.
“Your wife okay?” Mark asks.
“Yeah, she just gets headaches sometimes.”
“I used to get those things,” Anne says. “Ruin a whole day, they will. Keep you shut up inside a dark room. Warm baths used to help me. Maybe you should run her one, Cash. We can finish up here.”
Chasing Fireflies Page 5
