“Why?” I ask her. “Why the fuck do you want to end your life? I don’t understand it. I couldn’t be happier. Why am I not enough for you?”
“You are enough. You’ve always been enough,” she says, putting her hand on my arm. I shrug it off.
“No, if I was enough, you wouldn’t have sliced your fucking wrist.” She pales, and I feel like shit. I sigh and run a frustrated hand through my hair. I need to leave. I need some space, but I’m fucking terrified to leave her alone. I look over at her. “I need to take a drive. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“Cash.”
“Fucking promise me, Sara.”
“I promise,” she says quietly. I nod and grab my keys. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
*
I park my truck outside of Banner’s and shut it off. It’s not busy tonight, and I’m glad. I want to have a few drinks without anyone bothering me. It’s hard being married to someone who doesn’t always want to live. It’s hard dealing with her mood swings, her temper, and her outbursts. It’s hard dealing with the highs, and the fucking lows are going to be the death of me. Call me an asshole for bitching about this, but sometimes a man just needs a beer and a night alone. A night without worrying if his wife is going to be too sad when he gets home or if she will be walking the fucking streets because she got lonely. I push the bar door open and walk inside, noticing a few couples dancing together. I head for the bar.
“What’s up, Cash? What’ll you have?”
“Can I get a bottle from you?”
“A bottle?” Banner asks.
“Yeah, rough day.”
“You going to have a ride home?”
“Am I the cop or are you?” I ask him. “I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but just give me the damn bottle.”
He narrows his eyes, but eventually shrugs. “Yes, sir.”
I pay him for the bottle before I take it and my shot glasses and find a faraway booth.
Lining the shot glasses up, I fill each one then place the bottle onto the table. One by one I down the drinks, and in no time I’m piss drunk and staring at the almost empty bottle in front of me. Memories of the past flow through my mind, and I think back on the day I told my parents I was going to ask Sara to marry me.
I walk into the house and kiss my mama on the cheek. She’s in her cooking apron, and the smell of bacon fills the house I grew up in. Old flower wallpaper makes up the walls in the kitchen, and her stove should have been replaced years ago, but she says, ‘Just because something has a little age on it, doesn’t mean you should throw it out. It still gets supper cooked, doesn’t it?’ Dad walks in dressed for work, and I’m glad they are both here.
“I’ve got some news,” I say. They both turn to me, and I bounce my leg because I’m nervous. My parents like Sara okay, but they know about her issues and have expressed their feelings about it more than once. You’ll always have to worry. We want you to be happy. But they don’t understand she is my happy.
“Well, out with it, Cash,” Mama says. I pull a box out of my pocket and place it onto the island. Mama gasps and Dad walks over to the coffeepot.
“I’m going to ask Sara to marry me.”
Mama’s eyes fill with tears, and she sighs like she has been defeated—like all the years she has tried to talk me into having a relationship with some ‘normal’ girl have gone to waste. It was always a pointless conversation, one that I listened to out of respect for her. But one that went in one ear and out the other. I love Sara. Period. You don’t choose love; love chooses you. Once Dad fills his coffee, he walks out of the house. Mama gives me a sad smile. “He just needs some time, baby.”
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing the box and following my dad. “You just going to walk away?” I ask once I’m outside. He opens his car door and looks back at me.
“You’d have me do something else?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, Dad. Maybe tell me congratulations. Best wishes and all that.”
“Best wishes, son.” He grabs his coffee from the top of his car before he gets inside. I watch him drive away, and in that moment I know I am going to be alone in this.
“Cash, son?” I hear and look from the bottle at the chief.
“Oh, look, you’re here,” I say. “Pull up a chair and have a few with me. Oops,” I say, looking down at the bottle. “Think we may need more.”
“I think you’ve had enough.”
“I think I need just one more, though,” I say, tipping the bottle up and downing the rest.
“Let me take you home.”
“Home would be nice,” I say as I go to stand. The floor shifts, and I close my eyes, trying to regain my balance or make my brain not shake so much. “I’m drunk,” I say.
“I do believe you are. Come on. Let me help you.”
I do as the chief says, and he helps me get into his car. He rolls the windows down, and I lean my head out. The night air feels good and helps to defog my cloudy brain.
“You okay?” he asks me after we’re a good ways down the road.
“Been better.”
“Downing a whole bottle tells me this isn’t one of those better times,” he says, and I notice he is taking the long way. I look out at the night sky and sigh.
“Sometimes it’s hard being Sara’s husband,” I say more so to myself, but Drew hears me.
“Do you love her?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“Do you love her?”
“Yes.”
“Well, no one said love was going to be easy, but no one tells you how damn hard it can be, either. How bad it can get at times, with bills and the loads of stress everyday life can throw at you. Unfortunately, none of us are given a handbook when we place those rings on each other’s fingers, but son, if you love her, then that’s all you need. You hold on to that love. You remember when she is at her worst what you love about her at her best. When she is upset, you remember how much you love her smile, so you can make her show it again. At your lowest moments, you remember your highest. Know that as long as you keep that love alive, you’ll always have better days. We will never be here again. This moment will pass and one day be a distant memory, and so will every other moment in your life. So you have to decide—am I going to make this a good memory, or am I going to let this little bump in the road be a time I look back on and not smile?”
“Chief, I believe you could be a therapist, but I’m either going to puke in your car or on this old road,” I say, grabbing onto the door handle. Drew slams on the brakes, and I open the door. I heave it all out and continue to do so almost all the way home.
*
I thank the chief, and now that I’ve gotten it all out of me, I can walk better as I make my way inside the house.
“Cash?” I hear from the couch. Sara stands up, and I sigh.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“No, I’m sorry,” she says, walking over to me. I see tears in her eyes, but I stop her.
“Unless you want puke on you, let’s hold off on the hugging.”
“You threw up?” she asks, concerned.
“That’s what happens when you down a whole bottle of whiskey. I need a shower, and then I wanna sleep this off. Can we talk tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’m just glad you’re home.”
“Me, too, baby. Me, too.”
Chapter Eleven
Sara
The sound of birds singing outside my window wakes me, and I stretch and roll over. Cash is lying on his stomach with an open palm facing my way. I softly grab his fingers, and he feels it. His eyes open, and he winces at the sunlight coming in through the window.
“I’ll close the curtains,” I say. He shuts his eyes and nods. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he rolls over and the sheet falls below his waist, revealing my husband’s beautiful body. Getting up, I slide the curtains closed before I sit back down on the bed.
“I’m so sorry about last night,” he says. His voice is groggy, and I’m sure h
e feels like shit.
“Me, too. Don’t worry about it, okay? I know it can all be too much sometimes.”
“I shouldn’t have acted that way, though.”
“Cash, if you didn’t go a little crazy yourself every once in a while, then I’d think you were a saint.”
He chuckles. “I’m no saint, baby.”
“You’re pretty damn close.” I lean down and kiss his hair. “Water? Headache meds?”
“Please,” he says. I nod and slip off of the bed, but he grabs my hand and I turn around to face him. “I love you,” he tells me.
“I’ll love you crazy.”
He smiles. “Maybe you do.”
*
I tie off the last balloon before I grab the string and cut off another piece. My fingers ache from the fifty something balloons I’ve tied. I grab three and wrap them around the candy bags we have made. Leigh walks over with a glass of ice water, and I take it.
“Thanks,” I tell her. I down the glass because it’s hot today, and if we don’t get this party started, the candy is going to melt.
“I think the kids will be happy,” Maci says as she places the bags of candy onto the many tables. We’re throwing a party for the kids in town. It’s to give them something to do, and we encourage the parents to bring old books they no longer want so others can read them.
Maci has on big-framed sunglasses, and I wish I had brought mine. It’s sunny today, and I can already feel the burn on my shoulders from being out here for over an hour.
“They should be.” I look around at the bouncy house, the corn hole game, and the small tank for bobbing for apples. We’ve got candy, cake, ice cream, watermelon, and of course, balloons for the kids. A slip and slide is set up for the older ones, and this evening we are playing The Goonies on the projector and big screen we have set up. Half of these kids have probably never seen it before, but it’s one of the best.
“People should start showing up soon,” Maci says. “How about you be in charge of the books that get dropped off? Just write them down and who donated them, and we can send out thank you letters after this is all said and done.
“Okay.”
“What can I do?” Leigh asks.
“Make sure the big kids aren’t making out anywhere,” Maci says.
I laugh, “Ahh, the good ol’ days.”
“Right? I remember when Mark and I would sneak off and make out for hours. Now, it’s a quick kiss goodbye in the mornings and a glad-you’re-home kiss in the evenings. Hell, I’m lucky if I get any foreplay before sex these days. It’s always wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.”
I burst out laughing. “I think that’s called marriage.”
“What about you and Lucas?” Leigh questions Maci.
She looks over and shrugs. “Could be worse. The kids are here,” she says, clearly changing the subject and walking off. Leigh passes by me as she is heading for the corn hole game.
“I wonder when she is going to stop this pretending bullshit and tell us what’s going on.”
“Leigh,” I say.
She shrugs. “Just saying what you’re thinking.”
I look over at Maci as she drops some apples into the water, feeling sad for my friend and wondering why she hasn’t removed those shades all morning, even when inside. I turn when I see Cash pull up in his police truck. All eyes turn to my guy, because he is gorgeous. He climbs out, and I see his brown eyes look for me. His dark hair has had his hand run through it, and I can tell he’s gotten a trim. He spots me and smiles. It’s heart melting and all white teeth.
“Hey, baby,” I say as I walk over to him.
“Hey, y’all have outdone yourselves. It looks great out here.”
“Thanks. It was a job.”
He leans down and kisses my lips, and I smile against his.
“Get a room,” Leigh calls out, and we laugh.
“How are the Kingsleys?” I ask as we walk hand in hand.
“Same as always. This morning, Elizabeth said she was making coffee and asked Joe if he wanted any. He said no, so she only made enough for herself. He then changed his mind after the coffee was made. He got mad at her and told her that after ten years of marriage she should know how wishy-washy he is and that she should have made more just in case. She then said she doesn’t like to waste things, so he should have been sure. He got even more pissed, saying she wastes things all the time, and then he grabbed the coffeemaker and tossed it outside. It broke against the road, and she started crying and saying her mama gave her that as a wedding gift. She went and got the keys to his lawnmower. Now, get this, baby,” Cash tells me as he leans in. “The woman cranked the thing and drove it straight into the pond!”
“Really?” I ask, wide-eyed.
“Really,” he says.
“What happened then?”
“Then I had to take Joe in.”
“Why?”
“Because he was so damn mad, he told me to put the handcuffs on him or he was going to choke her to death.”
I laugh because I just can’t help it. “My God, those two.”
“I know. Promise me we won’t get like that.”
“Promise, promise,” I say, shaking my head and grinning.
*
The day passes with water balloon fights and soaked faces from bobbing for apples. The slip and slide got torn, and the bouncy house was so wet no one could stand up in it anymore. We’ve cleaned up most of everything, and as the sun starts to say goodbye, we lay out blankets and I pass out popcorn. We’ve got a pile of books to label tomorrow, and I look over at Maci who still wears her glasses. She loads the books into a wagon, and I follow.
“It was a good day, wasn’t it?”
“It was a perfect day.”
“Too bad Lucas couldn’t make it out here,” I say,
“Yeah,” she says quietly.
“Want me to help you unload these?”
“No, you go enjoy the movie with Cash. I’ll probably get to these tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I say, still looking at her. She walks over to the computer, and I watch to see if she is going to remove her shades.
She looks my way. “Anything else?”
I sigh. “Are you going to keep those on all night?”
“What?”
“Your glasses.”
“Oh, I forgot I even had them on,” she lies and still doesn’t take them off.
“Maci,” I say.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says. “Thanks for your help today.” She hurries to the back before I can get another word in. I sigh and walk back out to the movie. Cash sits on a blanket up against a tree, and I make my way over.
“Where’d you go?” he asks as I get on my knees and move myself in between his legs. I lean back on his chest and look toward the screen.
“I went to check on Maci.”
“Everything okay?” he asks me.
“I’m not sure.”
“Can I help?”
“I’ll let you know.”
*
A soft wind blows around me as I sit in the field behind our house. My hair tickles my face, and I move it to the side. It’s long, and for some reason today, it’s driving me nuts, but today seems off anyway. I look through my journal and see that for the most part my moods have been pretty regular. No shifty thoughts lately. I flip to a clean page and in big letters I write, TODAY I’M CUTTING MY HAIR!
I stand and grab the blanket I was sitting on and walk the short distance back to the house. Hanging the blanket over the porch railing, I walk into the house, noticing the screen door still has a hole in it. This is getting old, and I’m tired of killing flies, but first things first. I walk upstairs to the bathroom and grab the scissors Cash uses to trim his beard. Hair be gone. I look at it in the mirror before I hold up a piece, and in one move I cut it. I watch it fall to the floor before I look back up at my reflection. Chop, chop. It goes as easy as butter spreading on a hot piece of bread. I cut around until it is up to my shou
lders, and even then I cut some more. After I’m satisfied, I toss the scissors back into the basket and run downstairs to grab the broom.
After I sweep up the hair, I grab the keys. Cash has been leaving Old Blue here now that the chief lets him take the police truck home. I start up the truck and make my way to the hardware store.
*
“Sara,” Mark greets. “New hairdo?”
“Yep, I decided I wanted it shorter. I’m here to buy a new screen door.”
“You don’t wanna just replace the screen?” he asks.
“Nope, I want a new door.”
He shrugs. “All right, right this way.”
*
After I leave the store with my new screen door and a shitload more flowers, I make my way back home. I pull up to the house and lift the tailgate down. Grabbing the door, I head to the porch and lean it against the railing. Walking inside, I look for a screwdriver in the cabinets above the washing machine. I unscrew the old door and get started on the new one. It’s not easy to do because I have to hold it up while I secure the screws, but I get it, and after a bit I’ve got a brand new door. I open and shut it a few times to make sure it’s screwed in tight. Once I’m satisfied, I take the old door and load it onto the back of the truck and get to work on my flowers.
*
Cash
“I’ll see you in the morning, Anne.”
“Have a good night.” She smiles as I push the door open and the bell rings above me. A commotion causes my eyes to divert to Banner’s Bar down the road, and I see Lucas’ truck parked there. He stumbles out of the door.
“I don’t want your fucking liquor anyway,” he yells, almost tripping over his own feet. He’s drunk, and anyone watching this can tell. I climb into my truck and ride down that way. Turning my blue lights on, I park behind his vehicle so he can’t get out.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the boy in blue.”
“Lucas.” I nod as I step out of my truck.
“You good here?” Banner asks me.
“I’ve got it. Thanks, man.”
Banner nods before he shuts the door. “There’s no reason for you to be down here. You just go on about your way,” Lucas slurs, and I roll my eyes.
Chasing Fireflies Page 8
