Sacred Hart

by A. M. Johnson

  I stood and brought the used engine oil to the container required for proper disposal and sealed it tight. On my way back toward the truck, my head was down as usual, and my eyes were busy counting steps. It was a habit I’d acquired in prison — head down, be invisible, but always on alert. I sensed her before I saw her. My head shot up and my eyes flicked to hers. Her blonde hair was in braided pigtails, and she wore a yellow raincoat opened in the front. A green sweater with pink hearts on it peeked out from under the heavy jacket material. I scanned the area around my truck, but there was no sign of Maggie.

  “Beth?” I said her name quietly, just in case I was seeing shit. It wouldn’t be the first time apparitions came to wreak havoc on my heart.

  She smiled up at me. “Mom, here he is!” she yelled, and it surprised me. I was used to silence, easy chatter, and the sound of simmering oil, but her voice sailed, and it made the tension in my shoulders evaporate.

  Maggie came around the back of the diner. Her long hair hung loosely in mixed hues of honey and gold. The locks blew across her face as a frigid gust rustled the pines. She moved the strands from her eyes and laughed. Her smile was easy with pink lips and cheeks red from the cold. She was beautiful, and it wasn’t something I wanted to notice. I brought my gaze back to the ground where it belonged.

  “Hi, I-I wanted… well, Beth wanted some ice cream again and—”

  “No, Mom, you said you wanted to come see—”

  “Beth!”

  I chuckled, and my gaze flicked to the little girl and then to Maggie.

  “Last time I checked, ice cream could be found in the diner, not back here,” I joked, and Maggie blushed. Not what I was expecting.

  “So it seems.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I was on my way home from work, and when we passed by, I had the urge to stop. I didn’t properly introduce myself yesterday, and I know I said thank you, but I wanted to—”

  “I don’t need a thank you.” I hadn’t meant it to sound as harsh as it had, and her smile waned as I walked to my truck. I bent down and grabbed the rag and a few tools from the ground. “And besides, Tony told me your name. It’s Maggie.”

  She nodded and her gaze fell to my hands. I was grateful I’d picked up the tools. The social norm of shaking hands wasn’t something I did.

  “I’m Ryan, Ryan Hartford.” The words felt weak, like maybe it was a question, maybe it was who I used to be.

  “Well, Ryan, I’m going to say thank you whether you like it or not. I don’t feel like you got the full gist of it yesterday. You can’t stop me from saying it, it’s a free country and all that, so…” Her smile pulled up at the corners, and she raised her eyebrows letting the word hang in the thick chilled air between us.

  “So, you said you wanted ice cream?” I asked.

  “Yes!” Beth dropped the two sticks she was playing with and pumped her fist in the air. She made me smile, but as Maggie laughed, my heart squeezed out two painful beats, and my smile faltered. I couldn’t afford to let myself feel anything for them.

  “Head on in. I’ll be around in a minute. I’m going to finish cleaning up.” I dropped the rag and tools in the bed of my truck and pulled the bright blue tarp that covered the back of the vehicle into place.

  “I don’t want to be any trouble. I’m sure I can get Tony or someone—”

  “I’ll be right there.” I should have smiled when I spoke. She swallowed nervously, and I felt guilty. “It’s no trouble… really.” My tone was gentle this time, and Maggie’s shy smile returned. “Just going to wash up.”

  “Okay, come on Honey Bee.” Maggie took Beth’s hand in hers and walked back around the building.

  It didn’t take me long to wash my hands and arms; the grease came off easily with the special soap I’d bought a few weeks ago. It was meant for mechanics and it worked well. I couldn’t have dirty fingernails and cook food. I had a smudge of grease on my nose, and my clothes were filthy. I wished I could have showered, but I promised the little girl ice cream. I stripped off my dirt and grass stained T-shirt and splashed water on my face before lathering my hands again. The soap stung my eyes as I scrubbed the grime from my skin. I quickly pulled on a light gray hooded sweatshirt, locked up, and headed to the diner.

  Lou was filling the salt and pepper shakers on the tables, and Tony was laughing loudly at the counter. Maggie’s long legs hung over the side of her stool, her feet propped on the bar of her daughter’s stool. She’d removed her coat, and her Spider-Man scrub top made me internally smile. In a different life, I was sure it would’ve been something special to know Maggie Wright.

  “Strawberry, Rocky Road, or Vanilla… it’s all we got kiddo.” I gave Beth a small smile. I walked behind the counter, and Maggie’s laughter died down. She watched me again, her eyes on my hands, at first, as I leaned them against the countertop, and then to my face without abandon as she took in my features. My jaw constricted, and my body torqued tight under her careful inspection.

  “What do you think, Beth?” Tony asked.

  “Can I have it with fudge, too?” Beth puffed out her cheeks, her eyes wide waiting for an answer. The unusual expression made it impossible for me to hold back my laughter.

  “You can have fudge and a cherry, B—” I had to take a breath… I’d almost called her Birdie. My smile disappeared and my lips set in a serious line.

  “Yes! I’ll have vanilla fudge and a cherry.” She wiggled excitedly in her seat, her mother’s eyes on her instead of me, thankfully. My breakdown was just under the surface.

  “One hot fudge sundae coming right up.” I turned to leave and Maggie spoke.

  “Make that to go.”

  “Aww Mom,” Beth whined.

  “Stay. Have dinner. We hardly get any customers these days, and sure as hell none as lovely as you two ladies.” Tony oozed charm.

  I paused with my hand on the kitchen door. Maggie’s eyes found mine, and she nodded as if she could tell her presence was unnerving me. “Maybe another time.”

  “One sundae to go,” I repeated and walked through the kitchen door. In the safety of the empty kitchen, I exhaled a sharp breath.

  I lived in my own little world. No one really talked to me except Lou and Tony. On occasion, Officer Evans would try to strike up a conversation. Or a few of the regulars would smile and say hi. But I was used to being invisible. Ryan Hartford was unseen, a low-lit flame in the back of Red’s. My days and nights were non-descript. It kept me sane. It kept my past hidden in the shadow of my eyes. People didn’t want to know my shit. They didn’t need to hear my horror stories. Maggie sure as hell didn’t need my loss added to hers. So why did I find myself eagerly scooping vanilla fucking ice cream into a to-go cup, just so I could see the ghost of Belle behind the counter and to feel the warmth of Maggie’s smile?

  I slammed the freezer door shut and ran my hands through my hair. I closed my eyes and let myself see the images of that night. I needed the reminder. I let myself remember how Sarah sounded as I opened the bedroom door and watched her screw my best friend. I remembered how love destroyed, how it became a tainted black force that stole lives and ruined my future. The click of the trigger sounded in my head, and the smell of metal and gunpowder filled my nostrils. I shivered with an angered burst.

  Maggie’s sweet smiles were misguided, and I was an idiot to indulge in them even for a second.

  I picked up the Styrofoam to-go cup and placed the lid on it. I grabbed a few napkins and a plastic spoon before heading back through the kitchen door. Tony was busy talking to one of the local regulars at the end of the bar, and Lou was taking an order from a new patron in one of the booths. Maggie was helping Beth put on her jacket. She looked up at me and her lips spread into that welcoming smile again. I diverted my gaze as I placed the cup on the counter and cleared my throat.

  “Thanks,” she said with an air of insecurity.

  Despite my better judgment, I stole a glance. She was grabbing her coat off the back of the stool where she’d been s
itting. I watched as she pulled it on, the weight of it overwhelmed her. Maggie took out her wallet and began to open it.

  “No. It’s on the house.”

  “But—” she tried to protest.

  “Tony’s rules,” I said and shrugged my shoulders.

  She nodded and a hint of humor danced at the corners of her mouth. “All right, then. Thank you.” She handed the sundae to Beth and lingered for a few seconds. Her words were trapped behind hesitant lips.

  Maggie’s blue eyes searched my face and the pressure behind my temples grew. My head felt dizzy and my pulse was unsteady. Her appraisal was too much to take.

  She took Beth’s hand in hers, releasing me from her intense gaze. “See you around, Ryan.”

  She turned and walked away before I had a chance to answer. Not that I had planned on it. My name on her lips was wrong in more ways than I could count. The muscles in my shoulders tensed again as I balled my fists.

  “Don’t be a stranger.” Tony smiled and watched them as they disappeared through the diner door with a wave.

  I wanted her to be a stranger. Beth was a ghost, and Maggie was a privilege I didn’t deserve.

  I was a criminal. A man without a future. A body that just went through the motions. I hadn’t hoped for more, and I shouldn’t start to now.

  “I think she’s sweet on you, Ryan,” Tony teased, and it pissed me off.

  “I think you need to keep your opinions to yourself, old man.” I tried to infuse a nonchalance with my tone, but he narrowed his eyes.

  Lou handed me her order ticket, and I headed back into the kitchen. The door never shut behind me as Tony followed me into the room.

  “She could make things—”

  “Better? Easier? Is that before or after I tell her I went to jail for shooting someone? Before or after she finds out about my past, and can’t decide whether she stays with me out of pity or because she has no better choice of her own.” My furious grip on the cold steel prep table caused the veins in my hands to stand out from under the skin.

  “You gotta move on, son. Make a life for yourself again. Don’t lay roots in the past. It shouldn’t be your final stop.” Tony approached me warily, his hand cupped my shoulder. “You’re a good kid.”

  I felt the sting of salt water rim the lids of my eyes. His pity hurt more than he’d ever know. I had no words for him, and he dropped his hold on me with an exasperated huff. “The Conner’s will be here soon.”

  “I’ll get their order ready.”

  Tony was a smart man, but too caring. I never wanted him to treat me like a wounded puppy. At times, he treated me just like everyone else, but most of the time he made me feel like his own son. He didn’t care about the ten years of hard time I’d done, or the things I had endured. He just wanted me to be happy. He wanted me to be normal, to have a love like Red’s, a life with a legacy like his. He wanted things I wasn’t sure I was capable of anymore.

  “Thanks, Ryan.”

  I nodded. Once he was gone, my grip on the counter eased. I reached over and turned on the radio. The light music drifted through the room and brought me back down to reality.

  Even though the roots I had were rotted, the soil contaminated with loss and lies, the hold they had on me was strong and steadfast. Moving forward… it felt impossible, and I wasn’t ready or equipped, just yet, to find my way out of the thicket.

  On occasion, I drove past my childhood home, but each time I did the pain grew into something too big to harness. The large property laid fallow. The house was run down, the wood splintered, and the driveway was muddied and unpassable. My boot slipped in the muck as I stepped from my car. I took a few small steps to the weathered white fence. My hand rested on the wet panel; the rain was just a mist, a fog of moisture that penetrated through even the best of jackets, but it chilled and soaked everything in its path.

  Attending Mr. Bartley’s funeral today had brought all my old wounds front and center. I dropped off Cornelia, and instead of heading to my backup babysitter’s house to pick up Beth, I chose to come here instead. Being here, it helped me think, helped me work through most of the chaos in my head, and if I was being honest, it was Ryan that drove me here. When I was little, I used to bring home strays almost on a daily basis. The puppy dog eyes, the sickly underfed, the wild animal, the broken wing — I fixed things. It was in my nature; it was why I became a nurse, and this home housed all my past loves, my memories, and my heart.

  Ryan was a stray. You couldn’t look at him without feeling the overwhelming urge to help. Help how I wasn’t sure. His slight southern accent, his sad eyes, and the way he hardly said a word but spoke volumes with his expressions… it was enough to draw me in and make me crazy with wonder. Ryan was rough around the edges, and the storm in his dark eyes was overtly sexy but scary at the same time. He wasn’t like the men I knew. The small town boys or the upper crust educated doctors. Ryan was real, and I’d never had real. I’d learned my lesson with Adam after he left me lost, pregnant, and alone — you couldn’t judge a book by its shiny cover. The breeze picked up, and it was no longer the thoughts of Adam that were leaving me cold.

  The house that was once full of hope, love, and family was now dulled with isolation. When I moved to Utah, it was to make a new life. But instead, I was handed a different path, the path that brought me back here, brought me back home. I shouldn’t linger here. It made no sense to stay in the past. I closed my eyes and smiled as I thought of Beth, and my ridiculous little house with its crappy heaters and worn down appliances. My parents died. They died unexpectedly and too young. I missed them, and every day I’d have to remind myself I couldn’t call my mom for that recipe or ask my dad to help with the damn water heater, but I had Beth. I had a future, and it was a gift to live it. I couldn’t dwell in futures that didn’t happen or tragedies past. It would only make the air I was blessed to breathe murky, and I wanted more than a dishwater gray life.

  Ryan.

  I still had a heart, and I’d be lying if I tried to ignore how it beat faster when he was near. His hands had stories to tell. Those strong, worn, skillful looking hands, and the mystery behind where they’d been, what they’d feel like laced with mine — it was too hard to tell myself to stay away. Beth and I hadn’t been back to Red’s in a little over a week, but I drove by it often and, every time, I had to push my foot down on the gas. I’d tried to run away from that man, that stray, that fixer-upper with a rare smile that made my head spin, and a story I was dying to unearth. I stepped away from the fence with a new purpose and ran to my car, almost eating dirt as I slipped in a puddle. I squealed and grabbed the side of my car. Once my footing was steadied, I opened the door and slid in. The car heater made me breathless as I sat behind the wheel. The bitter cold melted from my fingertips as I held them against the vents. Ryan Hartford was an enigma, and if I was taking a plunge into the unknown of the future I was handed, I might as well see if he’d like to join me… or at least agree to a date.

  I sent a text message to the babysitter telling her I’d be late and then shifted into gear. The tires fought against the waterlogged terrain as I pulled back onto the street.

  Red’s was empty. The jukebox sang with acoustic notes, and once my feet planted on the worn linoleum, I began to regret my decision to come here. My nervousness was winning out over my earlier excitement. The brass bell chimed as the heavy door shut behind me. I winced. I opened my eyes expecting someone to come from the kitchen to greet me, but they didn’t. After another long minute, I was still standing alone like a scared mouse. I took two tentative steps when a loud sound emanated from behind the kitchen door. I paused when I heard a deep voice utter several swears, followed by another loud bang. I was about to turn and leave when the kitchen door swung open in a rush.

  Ryan’s footing stumbled, and his breath hitched as his eyes found mine. “Shit.” He was holding two large metal trays with pastries, and they teetered precariously as he recovered his balance.

  I tried, hopel
essly, not to laugh, and brought my hand to my lips trying to stifle my smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  He placed the trays down on the counter and wiped his hands on the white apron that covered him from waist to knee. His black short sleeved shirt pulled snug across his broad chest as he moved. The soft looking fabric of his shirt was covered in what appeared to be flour or some sort of white powder. “Can I help you?” he asked.

  The tone caught me off guard; he sounded tense, and I wasn’t sure what to say next. “Are you all by yourself tonight?” It was well into dinner time and the place was a ghost town.

  “I am.” He shifted on his feet and placed his hand on the counter. His long fingers curled into a fist the longer I stared at him like an idiot. He cleared his throat before he spoke again. “Not too many people come in on a Saturday. Better things to do.” The corner of his mouth twitched as he eyed me with curiosity.

  “Ahh, yes, the lure of civilization… date nights and expensive swanky city-folk food.” I smiled, and he laughed. The sound of it warmed my cheeks. “All overrated in my humble opinion.”

  His palm relaxed, and he placed his other hand on the counter leaning his tall body forward as I walked over to the bar. The smell of apples filled my nostrils as I neared the freshly made pastries. My mouth watered and I swallowed.

  “I wouldn’t know.” His smile wavered. “Did you want to place an order to go?” He scanned the room behind me not making eye contact.

  “Yeah, I have to go pick up my daughter, but I figured I’d stop in first… she has a thing for your ice cream.” I inwardly cringed at my poor attempt at flirting.

  “So it seems.” His full lips pulled into a small smile. “Just the ice cream then?”

  I wanted to say no. I wanted to order everything I possibly could just to keep him standing in front of me that much longer. I needed a bit more time to build up my confidence, so I could do what I came here for. “Yes. Two cups of Rocky Road if you have it.”