When Darkness Falls - Six Paranormal Novels in One Boxed Set
Page 88
I watched my grandmother fill in the sheet, whispering to herself about the dosages and medication names. I wondered, not for the first time, if I’d actually be able to handle the medications and care of my mother on my own.
I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I had to work the ten o’clock shift at the hardware store. My grandfather wasn’t working that morning, but I didn’t see him around the house. Then the sight of the plastic covering the window in the living room gave me a pretty good idea where he was.
I poked my head into the den to check on my mother. The sight of the bandage on her hand wasn’t what upset me most. She just sat there in a chair, staring at the trees. Pain was written in the tight lines around her mouth and eyes. Knowing she was on pain meds, I guessed it wasn’t something physical.
I cleared my throat quietly, letting her know I was in the room. At first I didn’t think she’d look at me, but after several heartbeats she turned her head toward me. A tiny gasp escaped before I could cover my mouth with my palm. Her eyes were vacant and dull, but it didn’t mask her misery. I had never seen her so despondent.
I made my way into the room and sat on the sofa across from her. She shifted her gaze back toward the window. I wished I knew what went on in her mind when she was like this. Maybe then I could help. Was she thinking about Liam? How would she react if she actually saw him again?
The screen door creaked from the porch, and I heard my grandfather’s voice. And then Ethan’s…
From where I sat I could see him walk in carrying a new window. He was dressed for work in his hunter green Magliaro Construction T-shirt. The muscles in his forearms were taut as he brought the window into the living room. The door slammed, and my grandfather followed.
With a small sigh, I rose and tiptoed out of the den, leaving my mother still staring out into the woods. I grabbed my keys from the sideboard in the living room as Ethan measured the frame of the window with a tape measure, a pencil stuck between his lips. I smiled at how boyish he looked.
“I’m off to work.” I walked over to the table in the kitchen and placed my hand gently on Gram’s back and kissed her hair.
“Oh, honey. Did you get something to eat?” She pushed her papers away and looked up at me with a frown.
“I’ll just grab something on my break.” I smiled to reassure her, even though I knew better.
“Give me just one minute. I’ll pack you a lunch.”
“If it will make you feel better, I’ll come home for lunch?” I met her gaze, wishing she wouldn’t worry about me so much.
Gram’s frown smoothed. “That’d be good.”
I shook my head and sighed, but I was still smiling in spite of myself. I turned to leave, and Ethan met my eyes, his expression unsure.
“How’s your mom today?”
I twisted the end of my ponytail, “She seems okay,” I said. “Thanks for helping with the window.”
Ethan looked down at the floor. For a second I thought he might be embarrassed but when he looked up his roguish smile set my cheeks on fire.
“My pleasure, Allison.”
The look on his face spread the blush down my neck, and I hurried toward the front door. As I walked out, I could still feel Ethan watching me.
“Which color would you go with, Allison?”
I looked up from the ordering screen on the computer to see Gus Baker holding two strips of paint chips up for me, frown lines etched between his winged eyebrows. I took a deep breath before walking over to the counter where Gus stood waiting for me, his watery blue eyes watching me. From across the counter, I could smell the tang of dirty laundry and decaying teeth.
I tried not to be annoyed at the little old man, but Gus was in here every day. I guess he was lonely, but he spent as much time in this store as I did. And he never bought anything.
“I’d go with the eucalyptus green,” I said in my friendliest voice.
“I just don’t know. There are so many of these colors! How does anyone choose?” Gus grumbled, his eyes intent on my face.
I swallowed, forcing my smile to stay in place as I breathed through my mouth. I just wanted to get the big order that just came in all set for Pop, but Gus had been here for the past forty-five minutes comparing shades of green. I sighed inwardly. He needed to find a new hangout.
The door jingled, signaling a new arrival. I glanced at the door. Ethan. Figures.
Seeing me, his eyes lit up and his face broke into a stomach-twisting half-smile. I shook my head at him, and he chuckled. He knew the effect that grin had on girls, obviously.
Gus’s rumbly throat-clearing brought me back to reality. He was still watching me, waiting for my reply as though his life depended on it.
“Maybe going with green is a bad idea, after all,” Gus said. “I guess I’ll just keep it the way it is.”
I nodded and closed my eyes to hide my exasperation. When I reopened them, Ethan was standing a few aisles back, toying with the foam paintbrushes. His smirk stayed firmly in place, his dimples doing a number on my willpower.
“You know,” Gus said. “I’ve heard the lunch special down at The Pickle Barrel includes a meal for two for ten dollars. I would really like to treat you sometime. You’re such a big help to me here.”
I opened my mouth in shock, staring back at Gus without replying. I could hear snickering from the paintbrush aisle and glared in Ethan’s direction as he coughed to cover up his amusement.
I had to say something, but words wouldn’t come. Gus just looked at me with his cloudy eyes wide and hopeful.
“Hey, how’s it going Gus?” Ethan sauntered over and clapped Gus on the back. I cocked my head at him in confusion.
“Oh,” Gus sputtered. “Hey, there yourself, Ethan. How’s the family?”
Everyone knew everyone in this town. You couldn’t go anywhere without someone asking about your family.
“Doing well, thanks. I’m just popping in to bring my girl her lunch.” He grinned and held out a little brown lunch sack. My eyes widened with surprise. Now what is he doing?
“Your girl, huh?” Gus looked between Ethan and me, his expression crestfallen. “Well, that’s great.” Gus stared at me a minute longer before muttering something about seeing me later and shuffling toward the exit.
“You’re welcome,” Ethan said, waggling his eyebrows at me.
“Who said I was your girl?” I huffed, placing my hands on my hips. I tried to be serious but a laugh escaped. The relief of avoiding turning down Gus’s invitation kept my annoyance at Ethan’s remark at bay.
Ethan placed the lunch sack on the counter and leaned forward on his palms. “Just having a little fun.”
I rolled my eyes at him.
“How long have you had poor Gus smitten?” Ethan was still leaning forward, his big brown eyes glowing with humor.
“Poor Gus is just lonely. He’s in here just about every day.”
Ethan shook his head and placed a hand over his heart. “I know how he feels. The poor sap.”
“So, what are you really doing here, besides saving Gus from heartache?” I asked, heading back to the computer and perching myself on the stool to work on the order.
“After I put in the window, your grandmother asked me to bring this down….to save you having to come home for lunch.”
I snorted, keeping my eyes on the screen.
“And, I don’t intend on forgetting our little wager.” He straightened and crossed his arms, daring me to protest.
I laughed. “What, here? While I’m at work?” I avoided his eyes. Many girls had gotten lost in those eyes, but I knew better.
“What time do you get off work?” he asked.
I turned and narrowed my eyes at him. “I close at six. Then I have to balance the register, so around six thirty.”
Ethan looked down at his hands for a second, then glanced up at me through his thick lashes. “You want to get something to eat when you’re done?”
I licked my lips, his dark brown eyes pu
lling me in. I tore my gaze away and tried to focus on the computer screen. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, and I fidgeted, knowing he was watching me. When I turned toward him, his expression was so intense that my stomach somersaulted.
“Just one time,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“Say yes, just one time.” Ethan slowly moved behind the counter, his eyes never leaving mine.
“If you don’t have a good time, fine. But, I’ve been trying to get you to give me a chance for years. Don’t act like you didn’t know.”
I shook my head slightly as he approached, wanting him closer but afraid of what it would mean.
He stopped, his brow creasing. “I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.
His expression was so earnest my mind went blank for a moment.
“Ethan,” I began, my thoughts scrambled. “You know I’d like to—”
“So say yes.”
I looked up at the ceiling. I was tired of always pushing him away. If I went out with him once, maybe then I could convince him too that this was a bad idea. I covered my face with my hands. “All right,” I mumbled through my fingers.
“What was that?” I felt the warmth of Ethan’s hands as he pulled my own away from my face.
“I said all right,” I repeated, my insides fluttering.
He gathered my hands and pulled them close to his chest. His scent, clean and fresh like sun-warmed denim, made my knees go weak.
With his head tilted back, he exclaimed in a mock reverent tone, “Yes! Thank you! Six-thirty on the dot. Be ready. I’m picking you up!”
“Cut it out. Don’t make me change my mind.” I laughed, pulling my hands away.
“Oh, no. You can’t back out now!”
I ushered him toward the door. “Ha! Watch me!” I couldn’t believe I was flirting back—it went against everything I was trying to do.
But it felt surprisingly good.
I was in big trouble.
Even on weeknights, Inland Seafood was always packed. The smell of fried clams and french fries would be on our skin for a week, but the food was so worth it.
Dinner was the easy part—I could sit across a table from Ethan just fine and make mundane conversation. But when Ethan and I walked to his truck, all I could feel was the heavy air between our swinging arms. Then he stopped in front of the ordering window at Dee Dee’s Ice Cream Parlor and looked over at me expectantly.
My eyebrows shot up. “What?”
He laughed, showing his dimples. “Were you really gonna walk past ice cream without demanding some?”
I felt the warmth rise up my neck. “I do have self-control, you know.”
“So I see.” He snorted. “But I want ice cream. You don’t mind, do you?” His smile glinted in the bright lights outside the ice-cream window.
“Ice cream’s fine,” I shrugged, trying for nonchalance.
After we each had a cone in hand, we walked straight to his truck. Ethan opened the door for me, but when I moved to climb in, he put his arm across the doorway. I glanced back at him, confused.
“Actually, let’s sit on the tailgate and eat these,” he said, yanking a quilt out from behind the passenger seat. He handed me his ice cream and opened the tailgate. After he laid the quilt down, he glanced over at me, mischief clear on his face. Before I had a chance to question him, he hoisted me up onto the tailgate. I yelped in protest, but it was no use.
“It’s a perfect night,” he said, jumping up next to me and grabbing his ice cream. His arm brushed my bare shoulder, igniting my skin where he touched me. I inhaled sharply, breathing in his scent.
“The stars are all out tonight. There’s the Big Dipper,” I said, pointing with my free hand. I had to keep talking, even if I was just babbling, so that I wouldn’t think about how close he was.
“Allison?” His voice was soft and serious, sounding warning bells in my mind.
“Mm-hmm?” I was afraid to look at him, afraid of the way he said my name, so I kept looking at the sky.
“I want to know why you never date,” he said.
I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t come up with an appropriate answer so I closed it.
“You could have anyone you wanted. Why is it you’re always alone?” I could feel his eyes on me as I stared into the star-studded night.
“Anyone I wanted? That’s a little excessive.”
“Come on, I’m being serious.”
I sighed, trying to think of the right response, one he would understand. “I guess I’m just always busy.”
He chuckled. “Everyone is busy. You have to give me a better reason than that.”
My mouth felt like cotton. Why did I have such a hard time forming coherent sentences when he was looking at me like that? I licked my lips and looked over at him. He stared directly into my eyes, the question still hanging between us.
“I want to take care of my mother. It’s all I want. So, I need to make that happen.” I curled my fingers into fists and pulled my shoulders back, looking back up at the stars. I’d had this conversation countless times with Nicole over the years.
“I know you do,” he said softly. I glanced back at him, surprised he wasn’t telling me that what I wanted was ridiculous. “But...who will take care of you?”
“I will take care of me.” I shook my head sadly. “My whole life everyone has had to take care of me. My grandparents, my aunt and uncle. They all sacrificed so much for me.”
“You act like it’s your fault, but it’s not.”
Now I was back in familiar territory. “My mother was normal before I was born, Ethan. When I came along she began her descent into schizophrenia. You don’t think that’s connected?”
He shifted in his seat. “I just know sometimes things happen, things that can’t be explained. But you still deserve to be happy.”
I glanced over at him before looking down at my hands. I uncurled my fingers. “I am happy. I’m enrolling in grad school, working and saving the money I make at the store. It’s what I want.”
“But what about friends? What about fun?”
“My idea of fun is just different from yours, I guess. I don’t need to be with a lot of people to be happy.” I hoped he would pick up the double entendre of my answer.
Ethan sighed and turned his body to face mine. He reached up and lightly traced a finger down my cheek. A shiver ran through my body. I turned my face away and focused my attention on finishing my ice cream. There were people everywhere. I didn’t want anything that happened between me and Ethan to be the subject of town gossip.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” Ethan said, unaffected. He reached down and picked up my left hand, interlacing his strong fingers with mine. “It seems like I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me forever.”
I stared down at our joined hands, too shocked to move. “Ethan, you’ve never had a lack of dates. I’d even say you’ve had more than your fair share.”
He ducked his head and laughed. “You think I’m a jerk, don’t you?”
I looked at him and smiled. “No. I don’t, actually. What you did today, for my grandparents… that was really great. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. It was no big deal.” He squeezed my hand and jumped down from the tailgate. “I’m going to take you home now, while you still think I’m so great.”
A girl stands in a poorly lit room. There are no windows or lights, but behind her, a flashlight beam brightens the loose dirt beneath her feet. When the girl turns in the direction of the light, it’s my face that illuminates. The man holding the flashlight is huge, wearing a tight, black T-shirt, black cargo pants, and enormous black leather boots. His head is shaved like a soldier’s, his expression grim. He looks around, and my eyes follow. Broken-down wooden shelves line the stone walls, each one holding all manner of dusty glass jars and bottles, some broken and lying on their sides. It looks like a cellar of some kind.
Liam appears, placing his hand on the wall as blinding lig
ht fills the room. I turn to look at the big man, eyes wide. He gestures for me to go after Liam, who has disappeared into the wall of light.
I walk into a large, bright room. The ceiling and walls are rounded, like they are in an enormous dome, something straight out of a fairy tale. I notice an oversized wooden table in the center of the room, where a glass ball the size of a fish bowl sits. It shimmers and glitters from within. I walk toward it, almost as if I’m under a spell. When I reach out to touch the orb Liam grabs my arm and shakes his head. I look up at him, disappointed. I can’t tell what he’s saying but his lips move as he pulls my arm away from it. Inside the glass ball, suspended in a sparkling prison is a tiny black-haired woman.
I sat up in my bed—another strange dream—and sighed in relief to find myself in bed at Gram’s. But as my heart settled, I considered how many dreams like that I’d had in the past six months. A whisper in the back of my mind taunted me. Crazy. Just like her.
I couldn’t remember if my mother’s illness began with bizarre dreams, though. The days before my mother really lost her sanity were hazy at best. Memories of her in the mirror combing my hair were outnumbered by the breakdowns and vacant stares.
I look over at my clock. It was early but there was no way I’d be able to get back to sleep. Might as well get my run in before the heat became unbearable.
The rhythmic thumping of my sneakers soothed me when my mind worked overtime. I had always been fast, so fast I sometimes felt like I was flying. It had won me countless medals and awards over the years, but that’s not why I did it. Running was something that was for me and only me. Things like schizophrenic mothers, reappearing fathers, and boys with dimples didn’t exist when I ran. All I felt was the wind and my heartbeat, my feet carrying me along. And the less I felt right then, the better.
I wiped the sweat from my brow as I got closer to home, my heart pumping, each beat throbbing in my ears. My body felt strong, but inside I felt weak, scared, overwhelmed. I needed to cool down—in more ways than one—so I slowed my pace, trying to match my breaths to my footsteps. Anger at Liam was sitting heavy on my chest, a cannonball filled to the brim with years of guilt and hurt threatening to implode. Why did he have to show up? My mother was sick enough already.