Authors: Denise Daisy
Her mouth forms into a sweet smile as she gently rubs her hand over her belly.
“Thank you,” she whispers back.
Mike surprises me by showing up at the carriage house at four with Quillan. Emily and I have brought the cargo. I’m ready to head out in the early morning shower when Mike tells me to go back upstairs, informing me he will be taking my place. As much as I would love to go dive onto the soft feather mattress, I have a stronger desire to deliver the cargo with Quillan.
“It’s all right, I’m used to it.”
“It’s not all right,” Mike argues. “It’s dangerous, Averie. I, for one, will not put you at risk.”
Quillan sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Let her decide what she wants to do, okay?”
“Oh, real good advice coming from someone who didn’t even ask if she wanted to play your little game.”
“Mike!” I interrupt before he goes and blows our cover and the whole time-travel incident. “We can talk about this later. We are wasting precious time.”
“Yes, we are,” Emily interjects softly. “Perhaps you are not aware Mike Griffin, but your sister is one courageous woman. Why, I don’t think a single fear could survive should it try to force itself inside her. Now, don’t go instilling them where they don’t exist.”
Mike is speechless. Before he can recover, Emily closes the door on us, and we slip out into the drizzling rain. We haven’t taken more than five steps before a tiny hand is in mine again. I look down at her, and she smiles at me. There’s no fear in her face this time. I know her belly is full. She just had the experience of a lifetime sleeping in a grand bed on a mattress with clean sheets and blankets.
“What’s your name?” I ask quietly, keeping my voice low.
“Hope,” she whispers back.
“Is that your momma up there?” I ask, referring to the older woman.
“Naw, that’s my grandma. My momma done ran away a month ago. She’s waitin’ for me to come.”
My heart burns with fear for this little one. She still has a long way to go before reaching the Northern states. Once I deliver her to the conductor, the only thing I can do is pray she will make it safely to the arms of her mother. I squeeze her hand and smile back at her.
We make good time, reaching the outskirts of town and rendezvousing with the conductor who will take the cargo from here. I squat down and give Hope a hug. “Tell your momma hello for me.” I force back my tears. She smiles and walks away, giving me one last look before disappearing from my view. Once they are out of sight, Quillan turns to Mike.
“Look, you may not be happy with the situation you’ve fallen into, but a lot of lives are at stake here besides mine. You may care nothing about helping me, and I can understand that, but a stupid slip of the tongue like you did in the carriage house can be catastrophic. You want to take Averie back to your time with you, then get your act together!”
“Just making sure I’m not carrying her back in a body bag,” he bites back, getting way too close to Quillan’s face. “You have a knack of putting her in extreme danger.”
“And you have a knack for keeping her crippled with fear so she will continue to depend on you like she does.” Quillan gives it right back. “I was with her when she was pounding on the wall like a crazy woman, hoping you’d come to the rescue.”
“I tried, but you didn’t let me, now did you?”
“She doesn’t need the walls you build around her, Mike.”
“Yes, she does!” Mike is heated and pretty much yelling now. “I’m all she has now, Quillan. If I don’t look after her, no one will.”
His words stab me like a dagger, and the minute they fly out of his mouth, I know he regrets saying them. His demeanor softens. “I’m sorry, Averie, but you know it’s true.”
I don’t know it’s true for sure, not yet anyway, and I won’t accept it until I get some kind of letter or something confirming her body was found. Quillan turns to me as if he’s expecting an explanation. Right now, I don’t have the courage I did a few minutes ago, and as usual, my best defense is to run away from the situation. I haven’t taken two steps before he pulls my arm, turning me toward him.
“What’s he talking about, Averie?”
“Nothing.” I find an interesting spot in the grass. “He’s got his facts wrong is all.”
Quillan doesn’t let go of my arm. He just stands there disarming me with those penetrating eyes.
“Her mother has been missing since Hurricane Ruby came ashore over two months ago. She was in Florida taking care of her mother-in-law when it hit. It was a category five and the storm destroyed the small home where Mrs. Cooke lived. She was too sick to evacuate, so Averie’s mom told her they would ride it out. Averie hasn’t heard from her since.”
His words are like a punch in the stomach, and I am mad at him for telling Quillan. He’s using it as a ploy to win an argument.
“Is it true?” Quillan’s eyes search mine.
“No! The phone lines have been out is all. It’s probably still a mess down there. I’m sure when I get back home there will be tons of voice mails from her, worried about me. I’m not dead, but I can’t phone her either. It’s the same thing.”
Mike and Quillan exchange glances. I swear, if they bond over something like this, I will hate them both for life.
“We have an hour until sunrise.” I pull free from Quillan’s arm and start making the walk back to the estate.
The day turned out gorgeous. The sun dried everything out by late afternoon, so I took off to the pond. I like it here. It’s quiet and secluded, a secret garden of sorts. I am in need of some alone time. I’ve been sleepwalking ever since Mike mouth-vomited about my mother to Quillan. I wasn’t aware Mike thought momma was gone. He always agreed when I said she was having trouble getting a message through. Somehow, hearing Mike say it confirmed it for me. Mike’s right. He’s always right. I just didn’t want to admit it, but Momma would have called by now. She would have found a way to get a hold of me.
I don’t know why I still continue to hold my tears at bay. No one is here. If I am to grieve losing her, now is the time to do it. I pick up a small stone and toss it in the still waters the way Quillan does. I’ve never been able to skip a rock before, but this one skims the surface five times. I don’t know why this excites me so, something so trivial in the midst of my grief, but it does. I look around, wanting to show someone what I did, but I’m alone. The tears pour down my face now
.
Is this how it will be the rest of my life? Will there ever be anyone to share the simple moments with? I’m sobbing now. Although I’m far from the house, I cover my mouth to keep from wailing. Collapsing on the ground, I dig my hands into the grass, uprooting it and clawing at the soil. Tears soak my face and splash onto the grass as passionately as the rain did this morning.
Returning home holds no joy for me. There is no one there to welcome me back, no one to share my adventure with. I have no desire to go home and face the empty apartment. I don’t want to check my voice mails, one more time, to see that her number is not there. I can’t clean out Momma’s things. I just can’t. I’m too afraid of the memories and the pain they will bring. I don’t have the courage to bear the hurt alone. By now, I’m crying so hard that I hyperventilate. I can’t breathe. Air won’t come. I’m gasping and heaving, and just when I think I might vomit, a hand touches my back. I look up, straining to see through blurry eyes.
Quillan sits down beside me. Pulling me close, he lays my head on his lap and strokes my hair. Logically, I should bolt right now
.
Why get used to something I won’t have
?
But I don’t. I will not deny myself this comfort. I won’t have him ten days from now, but I do have him now, so I stretch my legs out in the grass, use his lap as a pillow, and cry.
It takes about a half an hour until I drain my body of water. I couldn’t cry anymore if I wanted to. I’m empty and tired, oh so tired, so I lie on Quillan’s lap, staring over the water. The sun sets, disappearing behind the trees as the fireflies make their debut, entertaining me with a simple light show as they quietly hover near the heavy moss.
“I skimmed a rock earlier.” I finally break the long silence.
“You did?” I hear the laughter in his voice.
“Yep, my first ever. It skipped five times. I’ve never done it before.”
“That’s great, Averie. It’s a hard thing to do, especially five times.” He sounds proud, and I’m content for now.
I lay there a little longer before I sit up. My eyes feel puffy, and I am sure my nose resembles Rudolph’s, but I don’t care. He’s never going to remember this anyway.
“Thank you,” I tell him. He smiles at me while he pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket. He dips it into the water and then cleans my face.
“Am I a mess?” I ask.
“Well, dirty hands and wet tears make mud, my dear.”
“Oh, great.” I roll my eyes.
“When I sat down across from you at dinner that first night”—Quillan clears the mud pie off my face—“I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever laid eyes on.”
I laugh. “Oh that’s a good one, Quillan, seeing you haven’t been around for very long.”
“Hey, I come from heaven remember? And you far surpass any angel I’ve ever seen.”
He makes me laugh, and I think it makes him happy. At least it does me, anyway.
He sighs, and somehow I have a feeling his next statement isn’t going to be that funny.
“Averie, as much as I hate to admit it, Mike is good for you. He may be a smart-ass and an egotistical know-it-all, but he loves you. I can tell.”
I don’t want to hear this. Not now, sitting in a romantic garden near a reflecting pond while the man of my dreams gently washes my face.
“Please, don’t say anymore.” I stop his hand from cleaning. “Not tonight, not now, not here. If I end up with Mike, it will be because I realize I can’t live without him, not because it’s the sensible thing to do.”
We watch the fireflies again. I lean back on his chest, and he holds me. It’s nice. I’m safe, at least for now.
“You want to sleep here under the stars tonight? We could, you know. We have no deliveries.”
The thought thrills me. Sleeping outside under the stars has always been something I’ve wanted to do. Of course, I was always too afraid. Tonight, I am not.
“I’d love to.”
The next thing I know we are reclining in the soft clover. Quillan keeps his arm around me, allowing me to use his chest as a pillow. The warm summer night is perfect, not too hot or muggy, just a slight breeze floating across the garden, filling my nostrils with the heavenly scent of night-blooming jasmine. Crickets and bullfrogs are tuning up, ready to serenade us, singing us to sleep as the stars take over for the fireflies, dazzling us with their brilliance. A star streaks across the black expanse, leaving a glimmering trail. Another first. I’ve never seen a real shooting star before.
“Make a wish,” Quillan says.
“I wish, one day, you will lie out here under these very stars and dream of me.”
He says nothing, but he leans over and places a soft kiss on the top of my head. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
It’s September 9th, a week before the dinner of the damned and already preparations are being made for the last supper. My stomach knots whenever I hear Mrs. Faulkner speaking of the occasion, which she does quite often, so my insides are in a consistent state of turmoil. This morning, she is in rare form, planning the menu and finalizing the guest list. Forget my stomach being in knots. It completely falls to the floor when she smiles across the breakfast table and invites Quillan, Mike, and me to the ill-fated banquet.
Our reactions must puzzle her. Instead of giving her the expected response of, “Why yes, I’d love to, and thank you for the invitation,” I break out in a cold sweat and force a smile.
“I’m not sure we’ll be here this weekend.” Mike is quick to send his regrets.
“Quillan and I will be.” There goes the damn ventriloquist again. “We’re honored to attend.”
I pick up my glass of juice and take a quick swallow as if I am downing a shot of whiskey. What have I done?
“Great.” Elizabeth smiles as she adds our name to the guest list. “Sixteen for dinner it is.”
“Make it seventeen.” Mike clears his throat and rolls his eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound this defeated. Elizabeth raises an eyebrow, giving him a wary look before adding his name.
At noon, Pearl prepares a big basket of food for Emily and me to deliver to the boys. It’s hard for me to look Pearl in the eye since I know she’s having sex with James Faulkner in one of the upstairs bedrooms. I still have his wedding band. I don’t know why I felt the need to hold on to it, but I have. I consider things like this leverage, so I’ve kept it in the pocket of my dress, just in case.
Emily and I walk into town instead of taking the carriage. The air is fresh outside on this beautiful autumn afternoon, much different from the stifling heat from a month ago. The turning leaves on the massive oaks paint hues of orange, red, and yellow against a cobalt-blue sky, providing a masterpiece for us to enjoy. I inhale deeply, taking in the spicy scents of autumn.
Emily seems extremely giddy and carefree, laughing at everything I say. She always gets this way before she sees Lunar. I can’t blame her. I notice the closer I get to Quillan, my pace picks up, too.
Mike’s been behaving himself. He and Quillan sort of called a truce the morning Mike spilled his guts about Momma. I don’t think the two could ever be best friends, but for now, Mike’s decided to help us until he can take me home.
I hear a loud commotion as we enter town. A crowd is gathered outside the courthouse, listening to someone grandstanding, making a speech on the high portico. Emily and I make our way closer, standing on our tiptoes to get a glimpse. My heart drops at what I see. I turn and face Emily, wondering if she saw it, too. She hasn’t yet, and I panic. I need to prepare her first. My hands are shaking terribly. I can barely control them. I try and pull her back. “Emily,” I choke out.