Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series (30 page)

“What is that look?” She snapped.

Evan stepped in between us. “He’s with
Marcus. They’ll be fine. They’re only going ‘round the
neighborhood.”

“No one asked you, Evan. This whole thing
was probably your idea.”

A new intensity lapped at the edges of my
shrinking patience. It was throbbing and white hot. It was bad
enough to have her yelling at me. But not him.

“Lily, he’s going to be fine—”

“So what if it was?” I interrupted, stepping
around Evan to look her in the eye. “Why does it matter who thought
of it? Because I am his mother and I’m perfectly capable of
deciding what’s best for him. Noah is a smart, responsible boy.
I’ve put him through driver’s training and now he’s getting a car
because we want to give him one.”

“I asked you about this.” She pointed a
finger at me. “I begged you to let me help—for months. Why would
you keep this from me? Mom, do you believe this?” Lily threw up her
hands with scorching incredulity.

Maria stood opposite me, leaning against the
utility sink. She shook her head with a familiar loaded expression.
Our reconciliation began on thin ice and Maria didn’t need
ammunition, just a target.

“Grace knows exactly what she’s doing.
Things will work out the way she wants them to.” The remark, though
seemingly innocent, took on a different meaning with her venomous
tone.

And there it was—the matchstick comment to
my short fuse. Ignition inevitable. The pooling acid welled in my
stomach, burning as it lurched up my throat and into my mouth. The
words I wanted to say swirled in my head, blazing with malevolence.
I could not believe the fire. I actually wanted to hurt her.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Evan asked.

“I’ve had all I can take from you.” It was
nothing like what I wanted to say, but was simply the nicest way I
could think to tell her to shut the heck up.

Lily was already brimming with remorse. I
knew she didn’t really have a problem with the car—it was the
wedding she was upset about. And in her subconscious search to pick
a fight with me, she’d picked two.

“We were celebrating,” Evan reflected. “How
does it go from bliss to shit in less than ten seconds? It’s just a
birthday present.”

I looked to Lily, mumbling. “Get her out of
here.”

“Grace, she didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, I did.” Maria corrected. “You’ll ruin
him, too.” She pointed to Evan. “You take from them to live!
Bruja!”

“There’s the woman I know. It’s nice to see
you again, Maria.” In a way, I was relieved. I knew what to expect
from this Maria. The new, kind, caring one scared the crap out of
me.

“Maria, you can’t talk to Grace that way. I
think you should leave.” Evan waved his hand to Sheri and she
walked out the side door to the backyard with Caleb.

Maria paid him no mind. “You think I don’t
see what you’re doing.” She pointed her aged finger at me, her eyes
were slits. “He’ll find out how you are. He doesn’t see it now, but
he will.”

“That’s enough. Leave, now.”

Lily huffed, getting in Evan’s face. “Don’t
you talk to my mother that way!”

“It should have been you.” Maria seethed,
wagging her finger and switching to Spanish. The cruelty rolled
from her tongue. Some insults were very clear and others, not so
much. Soon, she was going too fast for me to keep up.

In the past weeks, Maria had been nicer than
I ever hoped. She made me like her. I always wanted to, but
actually feeling it and then hearing everything she was saying—the
words cut deep into what I thought was thick skin. Her niceties had
scrubbed away my calluses, leaving me bleeding.

I ran for the laundry room, knowing if I
only could have kept my big mouth shut, things wouldn’t have gotten
so ugly. Through the thick door, I heard Evan arguing with Lily
over whether or not she should come and talk to me. She wanted to,
but he wouldn’t let her.

I was glad.

Challenges

In the dim light visible between shadows of
trees, I’m running. Until my foot catches in some underbrush. My
injured shoulder burns as my hands fly out. The handgun disappears
into the dark and I flinch. I hear rather than see it land in the
matted undergrowth, out of knowledge. For a half second, I wonder
if the safety is still on. Then, realize I just dropped my
protection.

Stay and look, or keep running?

The echo of stirring foliage makes up my
mind for me. I break into a jog, building as much speed as I can
while weaving in between the packed trees.

Soon the number of trees begins to taper.
The ground begins to swell, sloping up as I continue in a steady
pace, going as fast as my legs can carry. My balance is threatened
as the swell quickly becomes a steep hill. To my left, I can just
make out another slope where the ever present foliage seems less
dense. I might move faster that way, but would have to sacrifice my
cover.

I remind myself that the quickest way
through is always a straight line. Besides, after I lose my tail, I
still have to be able to find my way back to the car.

Clouds overtake the moon and the black of a
country night sets into the woods. It reminds me of the cornfields
surrounding Ronnie’s house outside Kansas City—the way they
disappear after sunset. I’m moving slower, but keeping a steady
pace, feeling my way along by scraping my feet along the rocky
ground, keeping my hands outstretched and ready, in case I
fall.

Occasionally, I stop and listen. Most times,
there’s nothing but the lonely songs of crickets. This time, I hear
snapping footfalls. The effort of a quiet retreat has slowed me
considerably. I pick up the pace, trading anonymity for a clean
getaway.

Fear builds inside me. The adrenaline helps
to keep me going as I wrangle up and over in the mysterious,
suffocating dark. The next time I stop to listen, I hear no pursuit
but keep trudging steadily up. The ground is still climbing,
growing steeper with each step.

My shoulder is getting worse. I can feel the
swelling with the side of my face. It throbs continuously in
painful twinges that make me think I have a growing hematoma. And
the joint grinds when I move it. But I can’t think about that.

Grabbing at the roots of plants, I’m hoping
to gain ground more quickly. The incline sharpens and soon I’m
using my hands as much as my legs. Invisible thorns prick my
fingers, dirt digs into my nails. The pain in my head makes its way
into both of my shoulders and back. Icy wind comes in freezing
bursts, thrashing against the sheen of sweat that covers me, making
me shiver.

When I come to a spot that isn’t so steep, I
take the time to pull the hood up over my head. I want to find a
shrub and climb underneath it, but fear keeps me plodding
along.

It was a new normal. No Lily, no Maria, and
hardly any Marcus. It had been just us and the kids. That was the
way we preferred it, but I still wished Lily would start taking my
calls. I went by her apartment last week to call a truce, but we
just got into a bigger fight.

She felt slighted because I married a
stranger. She thought Evan was crowding her out. She was my
life-long friend, my family. Evan was my husband, a part of me.
Wife and Sister; they were two completely different roles that
worked within close proximity. She thought of Evan as an intrusion.
It was absurd, but whether it made sense to me or not wasn’t
important. It was how she felt and I couldn’t discount her because
we disagreed. But we both needed some space right now.

The hours had turned to days, the days
melted to weeks and now, much too soon, Evan had to leave again.
The first trip was only a few days, but it was miserable. He’d been
back about a week and neither of us were looking forward to his
leaving again.

On the couch beside him, I scuttled a little
closer, unable to keep myself away. I’d noticed the way I
unconsciously held onto him, whether a subtle pat on the shoulder
or tugging at his shirt while we walked. Some part of me had to
touch part of him.

He smiled, stroking my cheek with his thumb
as he continued telling me about his recent trip to New York. “It
was rather irritating. I expected some to ask after you, but I
didn’t think every single one would.”

“What did you do?” My tone went up an
octave.

“I hope I appeared genuinely surprised when
Sheri cut off the interviews.”

“You did.” She peeked up from her Blackberry
and assured him from the sofa opposite us.

“I wanted to punch most of them before they
even asked the question.” A smug smile drew up the corners of his
mouth. “It’s no small wonder I’ve never been able to quit smoking.
The pressure is amazing.” His manner was so at ease, I found it
hard to imagine that he could’ve been as upset as he described. But
he had been smoking more often since he returned.

I responded by leaning in closer. He lifted
his arm and set it around my shoulders, kissing the top of my
head.

“When does your plane take off?”

He looked intently at me. I stared back,
concentrating, trying to burn the image of us into my mind.

“Eleven a.m.” Less than a day. It would be
four months before we sat like this again.

Sheri was laughing at Caleb as he tried to
blow bubbles the old-fashioned way. She’d convinced him that using
his bubble gun was a cheater’s method. Her phone rang, she answered
in a professional tone and excused herself. She shoved Caleb out
the back door to supervise the proper use and technique as he blew
sputtering breaths into the bubble wand.

Evan pressed his palm against my cheek. I
pressed it to my lips, savoring the feel of his soft skin and
wonderful scent. He leaned in, burying his nose in my hair and
inhaling. My mind ran over all the miserable days I’d to be forced
to muddle through without him.

“I want you all on the plane with me
tomorrow.”

Tears pricked at my eyes. We’d been over it
so many times. It made no sense to pack up the kids, to uproot
their lives, for six weeks. And they’d just started back at school.
“Evan. I can’t.”

“Promise you’ll come see me every
weekend.”

“Every chance I get.” I kissed his shoulder
through his shirt.

“I miss you already.” He cradled my head
against his chest.

Sheri burst in through the back door. I sat
forward—her stern look of concern alarmed me. Evan settled deeper
into the couch, slouching back and closing his eyes.

“Evan?”Sheri said. .

He opened one eye. “What?”

“I’m heading for the office. I didn’t bring
my computer.” She waved and rushed towards the front door.

“Glad I don’t have her job,” he
muttered.

“What is it? Why is she so upset?”

He shrugged. “If it was something I should
be concerned with, she would’ve told me.”

I stretched my legs across his. His eyes
fell on my fluorescent green and orange fluffy socks. “Where did
you get these horrid things?”

“Sheri gave them to me. There’s matching
gloves and a scarf, too.”

“There’s more?” He plucked the tip of my
sock.

“I can’t believe you do not remember them.”
I huffed, feigning upset. I loved my ‘horrid’ Christmas
present.

“I should fire her for giving you something
so hideous.” He shook his head. His features softened when he
turned back to me, grinning. “And, if I’m ever looking at what
you’re wearing, it’s only to imagine what’s underneath.”

“I guess not everyone can appreciate a
wonderfully thoughtful gift of warm, fluffy, funky socks like I
can.”

“You’re proud to have poor taste?” He slyly
put his hand on the tip of my foot and tugged. My sock flew through
the air.

“What are you doing?” My eyes bulged as he
removed the second.

“What?” He asked innocently.

I tried to get up, but Evan locked my legs
in a vise grip, wrapping both of his firm arms around my thighs. I
grunted, making idle threats while trying to force my knees
apart.

“You’re like an alligator. You can’t open
your jaws, can you?”

“You remember that the next time you want me
to.”

The corner of his warm eyes crinkled as he
laughed. “Eh, I know how to get’em open.”

Quickly thinking over my limited options, I
knew there was no way to wiggle out of the clamp hold he had me in
without kicking him. My face slipped into a pout. “But my feet will
get cold.”

“My poor baby, I’ll keep them warm.” He
rested my feet on his lap and covered them with his large
hands.

“While you’re at it, work that into a foot
massage.”

“Yeah, while I’m down here . . .” He rolled
his eyes, but complied with a gentle caress on the ball of my foot,
stretching the stroke up my arch.

I stiffened.

“What? Am I doing it wrong?”

“Play a masseuse once?” I thought for sure
my request would be met with a brusque tossing of my feet to the
floor, freeing me up to grab my socks.

He shook his head as a light chagrin colored
his ears. “I was on the receiving end, actually.”

“Which foot?”

He smiled. “It wasn’t my foot. I was lifting
something, but with my lack of basic coordination and strength, I
flipped over backward and pulled a muscle in my groin.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, the outtakes were fodder for comedy
as far as the crew was concerned.” He moved his hands along my
ankles, heating my skin. “Why do you look so guilty?”

“You’re pretty good at that, you know.”

He examined me, his expression colored
by suspicion. “Haven’t you noticed? I’m good at everything.” And
then, he bent down, lips reaching towards
my feet
!

“What?” He asked, clenching my anxious legs
in his solid grip.