Chapter Seventeen
Cash
“I can’t watch her. I have to go to work. Can you please come out?”
“Of course,” Debbie says. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” I hang up the phone and look out the window. Snow continues to fall, but it’s not the storm outside I’m worried about. It’s the one inside my wife’s head. Sara has gone into a deep depression. She’s sleeping soundlessly on the couch. I won’t take my eyes off of her unless someone else’s are on her. The power went out last night but came back on this morning. The fire has kept the living room warm, but every other part of the house is playing catch-up. I walk over to the coffeepot and pour myself a cup.
Surprisingly, Sara woke up to take her medication earlier, but she immediately went back to sleep. Taking a sip of my coffee, I daydream out the window. I hear a car pull up outside, so I put the cup down and walk to the front door. I slide one hand into my pocket and open the door with the other. Chilly wind blows in from outside, and I place my other hand in to keep warm.
“Hey.” Leigh is in a good mood, but her best friend isn’t.
“She’s sleeping, Leigh. We had a rough night,” I tell this girl because she knows her friend’s story.
“Oh, well darn. Now that the snow has lightened up some, I wanted to see if she wanted to get out of the house.”
“Yeah, today isn’t a good day. I’ll tell her you came by, though,” I say, shaking my arms a tad to try to keep warm.
“Okay, I’ll call later.” She’s disappointed and worried when she gets back into the car, and as she drives away, I think that’s exactly how I feel. Disappointed and worried. After Sara tried to kill herself a year ago, I thought she was getting better. I thought maybe we wouldn’t have to go through this again. Even though Dannie, her therapist, told me this was just part of my wife’s syndrome. She will get sad, she will get mad, and she will be indifferent. She will have days where you can’t keep up. Days she goes from one emotion to the other. She may go on spending binges or get obsessively wrapped up in something to the point it becomes unhealthy. I have to watch the signs. The signs. Which fucking signs? There are so many. I can’t keep up.
I shut the door and walk over to the stack of firewood. Grabbing a log, I toss it into the fire and rest my arm on the mantel as sparks fly up. Mindlessly, I watch the wood burn. Sara mumbles, and I cast my eyes over to her.
“Baby, how are you feeling?” I ask. She doesn’t respond, so I let her be and walk back into the kitchen. I sit down with my coffee and put my face into my hands. I pray for my wife, I pray for myself, and I pray for my heart because it’s a beat away from crumbling.
*
Sara
I roll over in our bed and see that I’m the only one in it. “Cash,” I call out. My voice is raspy from sleeping so much, and my head hurts. “Cash,” I say again. The door to our bedroom opens, and I blink from the light coming in from the hallway. “Mama?” I ask, sitting up.
“Yes, baby girl.” She walks in and sits down on the bed.
“Why are you here? Where’s Cash?”
“He had to go to work. He asked me to come stay with you.”
I don’t say anything, because what’s the point? They do what they want anyway.
“Are you hungry? You’ve been asleep for a while now.”
“I could eat a little.” I move my hair away from my face and take the covers off of me.
“You going to come down and eat?” she asks me.
“Yeah.”
“Can I get you some clothes?”
“No, I’ll wear what I have on,” I say, looking down at my nightgown.
“But it’s the middle of the day, Sara. Don’t you think you should get dressed? Let’s take down these dark blankets from the windows.”
I put my feet down, stand up, and walk into the bathroom. I shut the door, ignoring her. I don’t want to put any damn clothes on. I want to wear this, and I like my dark blankets. I roll my eyes when I hear her mumbling as she walks out of the room. Why did Cash call her? I turn the faucet on and cup my hands underneath the water. I put my face down and hold my breath as the water presses against my skin. It feels good. I lean up and grab a towel, wiping the water off and looking at myself in the mirror. Dark circles are under my eyes, and my hair is wild. Shrugging, I grab my toothbrush.
*
“You can’t eat any more than that?” Mama asks me as disapproval shows on her face.
“I’m full.” I get up and rake the rest into the trashcan.
“Sara, you hardly ate a thing.” She wipes the countertop, and I inhale a deep breath.
“I ate what I wanted, Mama.”
“How are you to gain any weight if you eat like a bird?”
“Who said I wanted to gain any weight?”
“Well, no one did, but you do. You are far too skinny.”
I look down at my body. “I think I look fine.”
“You look as though you don’t eat enough. Does Cash not keep food in this house?”
“Don’t start.”
“All you have are junk food and frozen meat in this kitchen. You need some vegetables and fruits.”
“Mama, I said not to start.”
“I’m just saying, Sara. A person…”
I throw my plate down onto the floor, and it shatters. Glass slides across the floor.
“I said not to fucking start. I don’t want to hear your bullshit judgments. This is my house, Cash is my husband, and we take care of each other just fine. We don’t need you coming in here and trying to change things.”
Mama stands there with a hand over her mouth. I shake my head and walk over to the broom.
“Sara, you need to go see the doctor. This is getting out of hand.”
I grip the broom handle and bite my tongue. Where the hell is my husband? I’m going to kick his ass for asking her to come here.
*
Cash
“Thanks for bringing the firewood by, Cash,” Maci says.
“It’s not a problem.”
“How’s Sara feeling today? Leigh said she came by yesterday, and she wasn’t feeling great.”
“Yeah, she’s okay. Her mom is visiting.”
“Oh, well, I hope that’s going all right.” Maci makes a face. I laugh.
“Yeah, me, too. How’ve you been doing?”
“I’m okay. I take it one day at a time.”
“Heard anything from Lucas?”
“He writes.”
I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t and I don’t want to pry.
“Okay, well, we’ll see you later then.”
“Thanks again.”
*
I stop by the Kingsley’s house to give them some firewood, but really I’m just checking to see if they are getting along. Joe walks out to meet me.
“Afternoon, deputy.”
“Joe.” I nod. “You guys get along okay during the storm?”
“Yep, saw a big tree fall in the backyard, and the lights went out for a bit, but we’re good.”
“Glad to hear it. I brought you two some firewood.”
“Thanks. We’re running low, and my heater is working on overdrive.” He walks on down to help me unload the wood.
“How’s Elizabeth?”
“She’s taking a nap right now. I don’t know how, though. She’s had five cups of coffee.”
“You got her a new pot?” I ask.
“Yep.” He grins.
*
Walking into the bar, I see Drew sitting, babysitting a beer. His chief’s hat sits on the bar top. I make my way over and have a seat, too.
“How are the Kingsleys doing?” he asks me.
“Fine. They had a tree fall in the backyard. Figured once the snow thaws, we could go over and help Joe cut it.”
“Yeah, I’ll see if Guzman will help.” He takes a sip of his beer and makes an ahh sound. “Nothing like a cold one after a long day’s work.”
; “True story,” I agree as I lift my finger for Banner to get me one. He nods my way.
“Did you stop by the office before you got here?” the chief asks me.
“Yeah, Anne said she was going ahead and closing up, said she has some grocery shopping to do for Thanksgiving.”
“That’s what I was wondering. She goes all out on these holidays. We still got a few weeks, and she’s stocking our freezer up.”
“Sara is all about Christmas. I imagine the house will be filled with decorations.”
“It’s good to be into something,” Drew says. “How’s she doing anyway?”
I sigh. “Some days are better than others. Her mom is visiting right now.”
“Oh, you get along good with her family?”
“For the most part. Her dad is better than her mom.”
“Yeah,” he says. “Anne’s dad never did like me much. He said I was trouble, and his girl didn’t need to be around me.” Drew laughs. “I was into everything in my younger years. I swear, if you would have told me I’d grow up to be the chief of police, I would have laughed in your face and called you a fool.”
“You were a troublemaker?” I ask, not believing him.
“Shoot yeah, I didn’t believe in following the rules.”
I laugh and grab my beer that Banner put on the bar.
“What about you?” the chief asks me.
“I was an okay kid. My dad was the sheriff, so I didn’t get into trouble much.”
“Ahh, the sheriff’s kid is usually the worst they say.”
“I think that’s the preacher’s kid,” I say, taking a swig from my bottle. He laughs.
“You’re probably right. Well, I think I better be getting to the house, son. Anne will need help unloading those groceries. You and Sara got any plans for Turkey Day?” he asks, standing up and placing his hat on his head.
“Figured her mom will cook or something.”
He nods and tosses some bills onto the bar. “Well if that doesn’t pan out, you know you’re more than welcome at ours.”
“’Preciate that,” I say. He pats my shoulder and tilts his hat toward Banner before walking out.
*
“I can’t deal with her anymore,” Sara says in a harsh whisper. She dumps clean clothes onto the bed and drops the basket onto the floor. “I called Dannie today. I have an appointment tomorrow, so there is no need in me having a babysitter here.”
“You called Dannie?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says, looking over at me. She puts down the shirt in her hand and rubs her face after she sits on the bed. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she wears a tank top and wrap with loose fitted jeans. She got dressed, so that’s a plus.
“These holes I get in take a lot out of me. This medicine isn’t working once again. I’m sick to death with feeling like this. So yeah, I called Dannie. I guess I need to talk it out, but my mom being here doesn’t help a damn thing. I love the woman, but she drives me crazy, baby.” She looks over at me and shakes her head. “How did I live with her for so long?”
I laugh. “I wonder that, too.”
She smiles, and it’s the first one I’ve seen in days, so I smile back. She sighs and falls back onto the bed, throwing her arms above her head. Her eyes blink, and I watch her. She looks over at me and holds her arms up, like come here. So I do. I climb on top of her, holding my weight off of her small body. She looks into my eyes and wraps her arms around my neck. “How was your day?” she asks me, looking from my eyes to my lips.
“Better now.” I lean down and take her bottom lip between my teeth. She closes her eyes as my tongue touches hers, and she pulls me down closer. There’s a knock on the door. Opening her eyes, love sighs and then rolls her eyes. I laugh lightly.
“My mom is a cock blocker,” Sara says, and I burst out laughing as I climb off of her and walk to the door.
“Wondering what you two would like for supper? I’ve found some potatoes that aren’t rotten and you have chicken in the freezer.”
I look back when Sara speaks. “Mama, we have more than chicken, but anyway, you don’t need to cook us supper. We can just go grab something, and you can head on home to Daddy.”
“You could use a home-cooked meal.”
My wife links her arm with her mom’s after she walks past me. “I think I’ll be okay,” she says, forcing her mom to walk with her because their arms are joined. I follow them down the hall with a smile on my face. Sara is kicking Debbie out, but in the nicest way. We walk down the stairs with Debbie telling Sara she needs to eat more and eat healthier. Sara just nods. Debbie even suggests her daughter needs to go grocery shopping more. She looks back at me and says, “You need to take better care of Sara and make sure she takes her meds every day. This house could use some cleaning, too. If you want, I can help you.”
Sara grabs her mom’s purse from the table behind the couch as we walk past it. I walk ahead and open the front door. “I love you, Mama. As always, thank you for coming.”
Sara kisses Debbie’s cheek and unlinks their arms before she hands Chatty Cathy her purse.
“Just take care of yourself,” Debbie says to her child.
“Always, Mama.”
Debbie puts her purse strap over her shoulder and looks to me. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Will do, Debbie,” I say, still holding the door open. “Have a safe trip home.” Debbie walks out.
“Send my love to Daddy,” Sara calls out, giving her mom one last wave before we shut the door. “Holy shit,” Sara tells me with wide eyes. “That woman will make you want to pull your damn hair out.” She walks into the kitchen and puts the chicken back into the freezer. “Want a burger?” she asks me, and I grin.
“Sounds good.”
Chapter Eighteen
Cash
I look over at the clock. It’s two in the morning. Baby isn’t in the bed, and I’m not surprised. She’s on a mission. Thanksgiving is being held at our place, and she hasn’t stopped going since she decided to host it. I roll over and grab her pillow. Breathing in, I smell her scent, and sometime later, I fall back asleep.
*
“Everything looks great, Sara.” I pick up a loose piece of turkey from the bottom of the pan and pop it into my mouth.
“Cash, get your hands out of that!” My wife slaps my arm and moves around me to cover the turkey. “Is it moist enough?” She blows a piece of stray hair out of her face and wipes her brow with the back of her hand.
“It’s delicious. Don’t worry. No one is expecting it to be perfect. It’s your first time hosting.”
“You mean, it’s my first time cooking like this.”
“Well…yeah, that, too.” I wink and give her a kiss on the cheek. She smells like cooking and clean linen.
“And who’s worrying?” She grins and grabs the boiled eggs off the stove. “I’m going to rock this dinner. I may have never cooked like this before, but I think it’s all turning out pretty damn good.” I narrow my eyes at her and watch as she moves around the kitchen. She’s in full force. All of her energy and mind have been focused on this Thanksgiving dinner for a week now. I’ve tried to get her to chill out, but she tells me she’s fine. She isn’t fine. She’s on a high, and I’m just hoping this one doesn’t have a hard fall. I hear a knock on the door.
“Oh shit, whoever that is, they’re early,” Sara says as I wipe my hands on a dishtowel.
“Who cares? I’ll entertain them while you get things ready, and if it’s Leigh, maybe she can help you before you know who shows up.” I walk out before she responds and open the door.
“Happy Turkey Day!” Leigh says, walking in the house. She pats my arm when she walks past me.
“She’s in the kitchen,” I call back to her.
“Hey, man,” I say to Mark as he walks in.
“Got the game on?” he asks.
“You know it. Want a beer?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
*
Sa
ra
“I’ve been cooking since last night. I hope this turns out good. You know my mama will have something to say.”
“So what? Let me help with something,” Leigh says, tying on an apron.
“You can mash the potatoes.” I take the masher out of the drawer and hand it to her. “They’re over there on the counter. I’ve already put salt and pepper in the bowl. The butter is by the stove.” I pour sugar into the sweet tea I’m making and look back toward Leigh as I pick up the wooden spoon to stir it. “So, Maci is with her parents?” I ask.
“That’s what she says,” Leigh replies.
“What? You don’t believe her?”
“I’m grabbing Mark and me a beer,” Cash says, walking into the kitchen. “What time is everyone supposed to get here?”
“In about thirty minutes,” I say as he opens the fridge.
“You two want one?”
“Yes,” we both say at the same time.
*
I hear the sound of everyone laughing from the living room, and I sigh. I think this is good. I think I’ve done well. Yeah, I’ve outdone myself. I untie my apron just as Mama walks into the kitchen.
“You should have put the potato salad in the fridge. No one likes hot potato salad.” She grabs the bowl and puts it into the fridge.
“It’s time to eat now, Mama.”
“I don’t know why you didn’t already put it in there,” she huffs, and I roll my eyes.
“Always have something to say.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I say, picking up a bowl of peas and taking it into the dining room. The whole house is decorated, but my table looks the best. I’ve been putting money aside from the library, and I admit I went a little nuts on the décor purchases, but so what? It’s Thanksgiving.
“Cash, will you come get the turkey?” I ask. He puts his beer down on the table and stands up. I walk back into the kitchen and grab more food.
“You’re going to burn your rolls,” Mama says as she takes them out of the oven. They’re perfectly brown. No one is burning shit. I don’t say anything to her.
Chasing Fireflies Page 13
