Read Broken Like Glass Online

Authors: E.J. McCay

Broken Like Glass (8 page)

Chapter Seventeen

That night I’m sitting on the deck,
sipping on a soda, taking in the night air when I hear a knock on the door. It’s dark enough out I can’t see more than jeans. I holler, “Come in.” I figure if someone’s here to kill me they wouldn’t knock to start with.

“Hey, good looking,” Uriah says as he comes in the door.

“Yeah, I’m so hot the sun’s taking notes.”

Uriah laughs and I wonder if I’ll ever get tired of it. “Well, at least you’re in good spirits. How did your therapy session go?”

“Fine. I guess. Chrissy seemed satisfied.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t around today. Mama had me on the roof fixing shingles. That last bad wind storm really nailed the house.”

I glance sideways at him. “I lived.”

He smiles. “Yeah, but only partly.”

“Shut up, Uriah,” I tease him.

“Can you tell me what you told Chrissy?”

Sadness settles on me. “I can, but you’ll think less of me.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Yeah, you will. You say you won’t, but deep down, the parts where it counts, you will.”

Uriah takes a long breath and stays quiet a minute. I think he’s finally going to agree with me, get up, and never come back. Instead, he says, “Lillian, I don’t know how long it will take or what it will take, but I promise you I’ll never think less of you.”

I just nod like I accept what he’s saying as gospel, but I know. I know he’s only saying it cause he’s trying to be nice. That’s Uriah. He’s always been like that. When we were kids, he’s the kid that everyone loved. He just had this way of making everyone feel special. It’s why I crushed on him.

“I know what you’re thinking Lillian. I can hear your thoughts playing like cymbals, but I meant what I said.”

“All right. So you say.”

“So, talk.”

“I don’t miss my momma. Never have, don’t now, and probably never will. We just didn’t have a relationship built that way and it’s just the way it is.”

“What’d Chrissy say?”

“She said it’s okay to feel like that, but don’t be angry.”

“She’s right. Did you tell her about being kidnapped?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“She didn’t ask.”

“Chrissy didn’t know to ask. No one knew to ask.”

I shrug. “I know, but I didn’t want to tell her.”

“You need to. That’s something important to know.”

“I don’t want to tell her.” My agitation level rises with every press.

“Don’t you go gettin’ mad at me, Lillian James.”

I’m not mad at him. I’m mad at what happened while my momma took me. I don’t want to tell what happened and if I tell her I was taken, she’ll ask. If she asks then I’ll be forced to tell.

“I’m not,” I say sharply.

“Sure sounds it.”

“Leave me alone, Uriah.”

“I won’t.”

Papa, give me the good graces to not throw my soda bottle at this man.

“What happened to you while you were with your biological mom that’s made you so defensive and mad?”

I thought Papa was the only one with sharp fingers. Uriah has touched a spot I’m not comfortable with at all. I don’t want to tell. I told momma and she told me to never talk about it again. So I didn’t. I’ve kept it to myself for twenty-nine years and now I’m being asked to talk about it.

Tears spring to my eyes. I look away from Uriah ‘cause I don’t want to cry in front of him again. I hate crying. It makes me feel weak and exposed and useless.

Uriah whistles. “It must have been pretty bad.”

“You don’t know nothin’.”

“I’ve killed four people,” Uriah says softly.

I jerk my head toward him. “You said you were a chaplain.”

“I was.” He takes a deep breath, gets up, and goes to the kitchen. He pulls out a soda and comes back. “I’m glad I got these, but man I wish I’d have gotten something stronger.”

“I’ve thought the exact same thing several times.”

Uriah laughs, but it’s half-hearted. “You aren’t the only one with secrets, you know.”

“I know, but I was told to never tell my secrets.”

“Your momma?”

“Yeah. She said never tell anyone and I haven’t. I don’t know if I can.”

“How about we start small then? How about you tell me other stuff? That way you can see if I’m good at keeping secrets. I’ll tell you mine first, though. That way you have leverage.”

“You don’t have to do that, Uriah.”

“I know, but I want to. Maybe if I tell my secrets, my shoulders won’t feel so heavy.”

“Okay.” I stick my feet up on the railing and settle in for secrets. “I’ll never tell a soul. I’ll be like a bank lock box where things come in and they never go out unless it’s to the person it belongs to.”

He smiles. “Deal. Okay. So, after high school, I joined the Army and went to basic training in Fort Benning in Georgia. It was nine weeks of the toughest training I had ever experienced, but I loved it.”

“Can’t disagree.”

“Shut up, Lills and listen,” he teased. “So, I spend my nine weeks there, and that August, Iraqi forces invade Northern Iraq. I’m so young and I think if I go over there as a Chaplain, I won’t have to worry about fighting and all that. I’ll just stay behind the lines, content with being a ear for the infantry.”

Uriah scratches the back of his head and chuckles. “I was such an idiot. Anyway, I’m stationed over there, none of them see any real fighting the first couple of months. Most of my time is spent playing cards or listening to the men talk about how they miss home or thier girlfriends, wives, and kids.”

“One night, we’re at the base. It’s pitch dark in that desert and we’re all sleeping when booms go off. Iraqi forces are bombing our camp and people are running all over the place trying to take cover. They break through and me and my unit haven’t seen any action to this point. All that training you think will prepare you for war, doesn’t prepare you for much at all when you’re face to face with a group of people who want nothing more than to kill you.”

“So, me and my buddies find what we think is good cover, but those Iraq forces just keep pushing through. They get into a firefight and me and two other guys are the only ones to walk away. I killed four men that night. I was only eighteen and I had enough blood on my hands to fill a tub. I may not have wanted to fight, but those forces pushing through didn’t care what I wanted or thought.”

“Seems like you handled it pretty well.”

“No, Lilly, I didn’t. I killed people. I still see their faces sometimes when I close my eyes and try to sleep. It took a while and lots of praying.”

“How long were you over there?”

“About six years. I love being in the military. I knew what I was signing up for, but knowing and knowing is two different things. I did two tours, and then they let me come back to the states.”

“Why didn’t you get out that after your first time was up?”

Uriah smiled. “It was where I was supposed to be.”

“Are you sure you aren’t going to re-enlist?”

Uriah shook his head and looked out into the forest. “Nah, I’m done. I like being at home, letting my hair grow out, and seeing my momma.”

“So you aren’t leaving Foaming Springs again?”

“No, I’m home and this is where I’m staying.”

That revelation breaks my heart. I can’t stay in Foaming Springs.

“You’re staying after your therapy right?”

“No.”

“I’m here. The town’s not so bad.” It almost sounds like a plea.

“I can’t stay here. Ever. Once I’m free, I’m gone.”

“But Lilly, this is home.”

“Not for me it isn’t. I won’t stay here. My daddy lives here, I’ll never be able to grocery shop again, and, Uriah, I just can’t.” The words come out in rapid fire.

He stands. It’s pitch dark now. Frogs croaking, crickets chirping, and other various animal songs are playing and I can’t see his hurt, but I feel it. “I have to go, Lilly,” he says softly and now I hear the hurt too.

I don’t say anything, but there’s a part of me that wants to say, “See I told you so.”

“I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Sure, Uriah, I’ll see you later.”

Guess he didn’t need to know about my secrets after all which is fine by me. I didn’t really want to tell them anyway.

Chapter Eighteen

The next few weeks,
I go to my therapy, work on Chrissy’s homework assignments, and hang out in my cabin. I stay away from the church, and to my not-surprise, I’m not invited either. I have a sinking suspicion that people are pretty happy I decided to stay home too.

My groceries are getting slim though and I’m almost feeling a little desperate when I run into Bo on a Wednesday after my therapy session. He offers to do some shopping for me and I thank Papa for the save. Bo says he’ll bring them tonight. The case he’s working on is keeping him busy. Judge Kringle isn’t budging on letting my car out. I’m still a flight risk. Wonder if he’d cuff my ankles if he knew how much I love walking.

I have yet to run into my daddy. I’m thankful for that, too.

The only thing I’m not thankful for is Uriah’s absence which is achingly painful. I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of him since that night in the cabin. My “I told ya so” feels hollow now that he’s gone. Guess it’s just as well. Better to hurt a little now than hurt a lot later.

On my way back to the cabin, I take my time today. Instead of a straight shot, I see a path and decide I’ll give it a wander. I don’t know how far I walk, but I keep going until I can’t see the road. The air is fresh, and the May sun is shining down on me. My feet keep stepping and I keep exploring. It’s nice out here.

There’s a huge tree up ahead, and the stream I’ve been hearing is getting louder and louder. When I get to the tree, it’s sitting next to the stream like something out of a painting. I have no idea what time it is and no inclination to care so I sit down under the tree and rest.

I figure I’ll head back to the road in a bit. The sun is still pretty high in the sky so I know I’ve got time. A deer comes to the stream on the other side. It sees me but seems to be bright enough to know I’m not going hurt it. It takes a long thirsty drink and then hangs out nibbling on grass.

Between the sounds of the stream, watching the deer, and my walk, I’m more tired than I realized and I’m out cold before I know it. I sleep more sound than I have in weeks. Maybe it was the walk or the fact I’d left my thinking at the side of the dirt road leading to the cabin.

When I wake up, it’s still light, but the sun is on the way down and clouds have moved in, thick and black. Boy, Texas, you sure know how to kill a party, I think to myself and laugh. I might have rested well, but my back cracks and pops as I get up. Apparently a bed made of dirt and grass and tree roots isn’t the best for bones.

It must have been later than I thought because I’m not even close to being back at the road and it’s getting dark enough I can’t see. Those clouds that have rolled in are hiding the sliver of a moon and rain is starting to sprinkle. It’s gotten cold too.

I rub my arms as I walk. The rain gets harder and harder. There’s no way I’m getting lost in these woods, I tell myself as I keep trudging back the way I came. By the time I get to the road, I’m freezing. My teeth are chattering, my clothes are soaked, and I feel like I’m made of ice.

Bo’s car is parked in front of the house. I can see my tiny light shining in the window. When I open the door, he jumps in surprise. I’m too frozen to laugh.

“I’ll be out in a second,” I stutter out before disappearing into the bathroom.

I know Bo’s out there waiting for me, but I don’t want to leave the warmth of the water. I’m pretty sure my core is still needing to be thawed. I do the responsible thing, though, and get out. I’m glad I’d left some pjs in there otherwise it might have been pretty embarrassing trying to get myself to the bedroom without Bo seeing my nekkid self.

When I walk out, Bo’s on the deck, drinking what looks like a soda. “Hey,” he says, “you feel better?”

“Yeah.”

“Where did you go? For a second, I thought you’d skipped out.”

“I went for a walk in the woods.”

“Did you have fun?”

I shrug and sit down. Then I realize I’m absolutely starving. My stomach is growling and I feel all shaky. “I need to fix myself something to eat. I’ll be back.”

In the kitchen, I make myself a quick PB&J, grab a bottle of root beer, and take my seat. I’m half way through the sandwich before I come up for air.

“Thank you for going shopping for me, Bo. I know you didn’t have to and you did anyway.”

“Well, I haven’t seen much of you these last few weeks. I wanted an excuse to come see you.”

“You don’t need an excuse, you know.”

He smiles and it makes me miss another smile I haven’t see in awhile. “You know you can come to church. We don’t bite. I had a good talk with Dad about his sermon that day. He’s not going to do it again.”

I snort and choke on peanut butter. My coughing spell makes my chest hurt. “Right, cause he’s going to listen to you.”

“He will and he is. Plus, I like it when you’re there.” He punches me lightly in the shoulder.

I shake my head and finish my sandwich. “Why? It’s not like your momma would let you hang out with me now anyway.”

“Oh, momma’s just being momma. You know how she gets.”

“I know she sees you as the next judge and that won’t include me anywhere near you.”

“She knows you’re my best friend and that won’t ever change. No matter what.”

“Bo, your momma might be okay with us being friends, but you know good and well she’ll never be okay with anything more than that. Which is why it’s good we both are okay with it.”

“Who says I’m okay with it?”

My thoughts stop midstream. “Huh? Bo,” I say, laughing, “come on. You know you are destined for great things and that doesn’t include the likes of me. Drug addict parents, adopted, daddy-stabbin’, silly ole’ me.”

“You just don’t see it, do you, Lillian?”

“See what?”

“It’s why everyone wanted to talk to you in high school. It’s the reason why if anyone had a problem they’d come find you. It’s the reason people are drawn to you. You are so down to earth, plain and just simply beautiful.”

He must have a head full of rocks. “Bo Anderson, you have done lost your mind.”

“I haven’t. I’m just being honest with you.”

“Honest, my rear end.”

Bo looks at me and I wonder what else is about to fall out of that crazy mouth of his. He pulls out his phone and looks at it. “Okay, I’d better go. I’ve got a continuing education class in Austin this coming week and my flight leaves early in the morning.”

“I’ll be here when you get back.”

Bo snickers. “I know.”

“Get out, you jerk.” I pop him on the thigh.

“See ya, Lills.”

“Much later, Bo.”

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