Covered in Coal (15 page)

“We can’t do this here, not now. Please,” I pant, trying to calm my racing my heart. His touch sends my heart soaring to an unhealthy pace.

“Mmmm, I can’t control myself with you. You keep me all tore up. If you give into me, I can erase that worry from your beautiful face.” I pull away from his embrace, placing a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Here, calm yourself down, and get your ass back to work. I have paperwork to go through, and I don’t need you distracting me.” Walking back around the desk, I sit down and power on the laptop, trying hard to fight temptation. Biting down on my lip I keep my eyes trained on the screen as Colton sits down across from me, huffing a deep breath.

“Well, Boss, I came in here to give ya bad news, just figured I’d butter ya up first. But since fraternizin’ with my boss is frowned upon, I’ll just give ya the news, and pray my balls stay in tack. The miner is down for the day. Bit’s broke, so production stopped. My crew is workin’ on the repair right now, and I’m going to stay back through second shift to make sure the repair goes smoo
thly. We should be back up and runnin’ by the start of first shift tomorrow mornin’.” Colton says as he cracks his knuckles. Shit. Can this day get any worse? I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to soothe the tension headache that is creeping up on me.

“But we should be running full swing tomorrow morning?” I ask.

“As long as everything goes as planned, yeah. That’s why I’m workin’ over, to make sure of it.”

“Good, I appreciate that.” I release a big puff of air, and smile.

“Alright, well I gotta get back to it. You got plans for the evenin’?”

“Savannah and the twins are coming by for a visit.”

Colton stands to leave, but leans across the desk to place a swift kiss on my cheek. “Well, I’ll call ya later tonight if it ain’t too late when I get in. Otherwise, I’ll see ya here sometime tomorrow.” Colton leaves my office, and I return to my work until the clock strikes five-thirty p.m., then I bolt from my office like I’m on fire. I’m just ready for this day to be done.

I hurry home and pull on some comfy sweats. I put some chocolate chip cookies in the oven, and make some hot chocolate for Brailee and Braden’s visit. What kind of aunt would I be if I didn’t jack ‘em up on chocolate before I sent them home? A shitty one!

The oven timer and the doorbell ding in sync. I quickly take the cookies from the oven, then rush over to open the front door. I swoop Brailee and Braden both up into my arms, and pepper kisses all over their faces. Braden pushes off of me, telling me my kisses are gross so I set Brailee on the floor and start a tickle war with Braden. Gross kisses? Never! I tickle his ribs until he can’t breathe from laughing and tears are falling from his face. Savannah and Brailee are both laughing as he tries to make his escape. I pull Braden up from the floor and give him a big sloppy kiss on the cheek before saying, “It’s either gross kisses, or tickled ribs. Your choice little man.” I wink before turning towards the kitchen.

“Come on in, y’all. I made some fresh chocolate chip cookies and hot chocolate.”

“Carly, they ain’t even had dinner yet!” Savannah yells with a look of shock on her face.

“Oh shut it, Savannah, let ‘em live a little!” I snicker, placing three, giant chocolate chip cookies on each of their plates, next to a big mug of creamy hot chocolate topped with cool whip and chocolate drizzle. Brailee and Braden’s eyes are as big as fifty-cent pieces as they ooh and ahh over their treats.
             

“Thanks, Auntie Carly, this looks so yummy,” Brailee says as she brings a cookie to her mouth. I set a plate of cookies between Savannah and I, then make us both a cup of hot chocolate too.

“So what are your plans for Thanksgiving?” Savannah asks, taking a bite from a cookie.

“I have no plans.”
             

“You do now. You’re helpin’ me cook this year. We haven’t spent Thanksgiving together in years, and we need to begin our traditions. And I ain’t takin’ no for an answer,” She replies with that damn mom voice. I laugh at her. She wants me to help her cook. That’s hilarious. I don’t cook. Well, cookies maybe. I burn boiling water. I do take out and TV dinners. She should know this.

“What’s so funny, Carly?”

“You thinkin’ I can cook. I hope you have Food City on speed dial, because if I’m in the kitchen, dinner will be an absolute disaster.”

“Surely you can follow a recipe. Heavens Carly, have some faith in yourself.”

“Savannah, I’ll spend Thanksgiving with y’all, as long as you promise to leave no heavy responsibilities on me. I promise you, I cannot cook.”

“Deal.” She says, reaching across the counter, shaking my hand, like we made a pact.

“Oh, Momma is coming home for Thanksgiving too. Ain’t that great? She’s so excited to see you.” Savannah adds quickly.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

My mouth drops, and I have to refrain from spewing a long line of cuss words in the presence of my niece and nephew. I just smile, and bottle up the anxiety of seeing my momma after almost eight years. Savannah doesn’t even pick up on my distress as she jumps right into planning the Thanksgiving menu. She pulls her tablet from her purse, opens the Pinterest app, and begins to pin recipes for appetizers, side dishes and desserts. After we have planned the menu, Savannah and the kids say their goodbyes and head home.

The silence of the house is deafening. I hate being here all alone. My mind wanders, allowing stress to creep its way in. I clean up the kitchen and start a load of laundry to distract myself from the loneliness. My cell phone dings, so I check my messages.

Colton:
Just came up to my office for a break. Miner’s still down. Thinkin’ of you.
 

Damn, things just keep getting better.

I shoot him a quick reply:
Miss ya ;)
 

Then back to cleaning. Thirty minutes later, the downstairs is clean, so I grab a snack and take a break. Just as I prop my feet up, my cell phone dings again. It’s a message from a number that I don’t recognize.

Are ya home? Thought I’d stop by?

Who the hell? DING. Another message.

This is Luke, just in case you haven’t added my number to your contacts.

Hey, come on over.

I reply, then add Luke’s number to my contact list. Ten minutes later the doorbell rings and my heart leaps to my chest. I take a deep breath, then open the door. Luke is standing with his back to the door, with a black leather jacket sprawled tightly across his shoulders, loose, ripped Levi Red Tabs, and a backwards ball hat. He turns around slowly, and when our eyes meet, his panty melting smile creeps across his cheeks. My knees shake, threatening to defy my weight.

Luke walks inside, carrying a pizza from Gianni’s.

“I thought you may need to indulge in some greasy comfort food after the day you had,” he says, handing me the pizza box.

“Thanks, I haven’t had dinner yet, just some cookies with my niece and nephew. Have a seat, I’ll grab some plates. Water or Pepsi?”

“Pepsi will be good,” Luke replies, removing his jacket before sitting on the couch.

I return to the living room with two plates, two cans of Pepsi and a bottle of ranch dressing. I flop down beside of Luke on the couch, crossing my legs under my butt, as Luke puts pizza on both of the plates. I wave the ranch dressing in his face and he scowls at me like I have a third
eye. I shrug my shoulders and add, “Suit yourself,” then pour some onto my plate. We eat quietly for a few minutes before Luke strikes up a conversation.

“I bet you
miss Myrtle Beach, don’t you?” I swallow my pizza, then take a swig of Pepsi before answering.

“Like something crazy. Have you ever been?”

“Once, when I was younger. I can remember a big Ferris wheel at an old amusement park that sat across from the ocean. It’s a gorgeous city.”

“Ah, you’re thinking of the Pavilion.”

“Yeah, the Pavilion. There were a ton of rides there, games, and they had the best funnel cakes. I’m sure you’ve been, right?”

“Oh yeah, when I was younger, we went every year. They tore it down years ago, though. A few of the rides were moved to Broadway at the Beach to the new Nostalgia of the Pavilion Park.”

“Do you miss your friends there, or are you able to still stay in touch?” Luke asks with a mouth full of pizza.

“I never really made many friends. I always kept to myself. Work kept me busy.” I shrug.

Luke chokes, then sits up coughing, pounding on his chest.

“Oh my god, Luke, are you ok?” I ask, jumping to my feet ready to perform the Heimlich maneuver. He takes a swig of Pepsi, then releases a light chuckle.

“What the hell is so funny, you scared the shit out of me!” I yell.

Luke pats the couch cushion beside of him saying, “I’m good Carly. You just took me by surprise when you said you didn’t make any friends in Myrtle Beach.”

“And why is that a surprise?”

“Because you were the most popular girl in high school, head of the cheerleadin’ squad, you dated that dick quarterback for-frickin-ever, what was his name? Ah yeah, Connor Weston? Your daddy was the richest man in Williamstown. You always had it all. It just shocks me that things changed when you moved away, is all.”

Heat crawls up my back, and around my neck, covering my face a bright red. I can feel tension building in my shoulders and my heart rate thuds my chest walls, ready to leap out.

“You don’t know a damned thing about me. Don’t act as if you do. And it’s Colton Weston, not Connor.”

I spit at him as I sling my plate on the coffee table and jump to my feet. I stalk off to the kitchen, trying to calm myself down. How dare he come into my house, pretend to be my friend, then judge me? Luke follows me into the kitchen, but never looks right at me.

“Carly, I-I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t mean anything by it, I promise.” He says quietly, shoving his hands down into his pockets.

I look up into his gentle blue eyes, and my tension resolves.

“It’s okay. Look, just because I had all of those things here, doesn’t mean I had it all in Myrtle Beach. I left for my own reasons, to start over. I didn’t let anyone in, because I wanted to be alone. Things change.” I say, walking back into the living room. I sit down on the couch, and
flick  the TV on before placing my plate of pizza back in my lap.  “Sit down, let’s order a movie. I’ve had a long ass stressful day, and could really use the company.” I browse through the guide, and wait for Luke to return to the couch.

“
Fast 6
okay?” I ask when he is seated.

“Carly, I’m sorry. I seem to have a foot to mouth problem around you.”

“Drop it. Let it go. I think we both just need a friend. It’s cool.” I reply, with a curt nod to Luke. I flick on
Fast 6
, and begin eating while the opening previews of on Demand roll.

Luke and I spend the rest of the evening with Dom Toretto and his family of misfit, street car racing thieves. When the movie is over, Luke sits quietly while I clean up the pizza mess. “Luke, you always this quiet? I swear in high school you were the boy who never shut up. Damn big mouth.”

I laugh, trying to persuade him into conversation. His eyes lock on mine, as his lips part, offering me a gentle smile.

“Don’t like the taste of crow.” He kids, laughing to himself. I pick up the pizza box, walking past him, and nudge his shoulder and laugh at his smart ass comment.

“How are your parents?” I say over my shoulder as I enter the kitchen to put the trash in the can. When I turn around, Luke is rubbing his hand roughly over his face, then grips the back of his neck, massaging the tension from his muscles.

“Well, Mom’s good. She left the old man five years ago, moved down to Lexington. She couldn’t take his shit anymore. She tried, damn that woman tried.”

“And your dad? How’d he handle that?” Luke looks up at me, pain marring his baby blues. I don’t want to push too hard. Hell, I have heartache that even I don’t want to discuss, but I feel deep inside that Luke needs to open up.

“Eh, he’s breathin’, barely. He drinks himself into oblivion every damn day. He don’t give two shits ‘bout who’s around. He says ‘Time’s never wasted when you’re wasted all the time,’ then tosses back another,” he says, spitting each word from his lips. His face is hard, and his lips are turned into a frown, as his happy personality turns to one of disgusts. Luke’s dad was always a drunk.

“I’m sorry Luke. If he is so miserable to deal with, why did you move home?” Okay, I know I’m pushing, but it feels necessary. Luke leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He releases a pent up breath, then shakes his head.

“Cause he needs me. Old man’s gotta bad liver from all that damn poison
he pumps into himself day after day. Mix that with all of the pain medicine he takes for his back, and his liver is barely hangin’ on. When Mom left him, and came to Lexington, he got more depressed than I’d ever seen him. I’d get calls from the neighbors that he was outside at night, stumblin’ through the street, drunk off his ass, cryin’ her name. Hell, I was three hours away. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do, so I told ‘em to call the damn police.” He inhales roughly, then releases, adding a saddened sigh. “I’ve lost enough in my life. I’ll be damned if I let the last few years with my old man, be spent through phone calls. He’s a mean son of a bitch, but he made me the man I am today. I just hate that he lives his life through the bottle. There’s just so much he is missin’, and he doesn’t even realize it.” Luke adds, cracking his knuckles. 

Rumors always floated around Williamstown about his dad being an abusive husband and father, but Luke never showed evidence of abuse. Unless his father covered it well, of course. I’ve never known the man. He used to be a coal truck driver until he was injured in a terrible accident when we were in grade school.

From what I can remember of the stories I’ve heard, his dad was returning to the mines to load coal. His coal truck got stuck on the rail road tracks, down by Gingersnap crossing. Before he could get off the tracks, he was struck by a train loaded down with thirty-five thousand tons of coal. The impact of the train ripped into the coal truck, and the trailer jack-knifed around, wedging the tractor against the nose of the train. When the train was able to stop, the trailer flipped down the track like a gymnast somersaulting down a mat.

He survived the accident but was never able to work again. He was deemed fully disabled as his back was badly injured from the train collision. Their family nearly lost their home after the accident, but Luke’s mom Sherry, worked at The Village Diner as many hours as she could to save her family and their dignity. I guess she eventually just had enough of his drinking, and was brave enough to find her own escape.

“Luke, I’m sorry. I didn’t know your dad was sick. If there is ever anything I can do, I’m here. I know it seems like I pry, and you eat crow a hell of a lot, but something tells me that we both need a good friend. So if I ever over step my bounds, please tell me to shut the hell up. ‘Kay?” I grip his large hand in mine, trying to sincerely offer him my friendship. He squeezes my hand lightly, then stands tall on his feet. I mimic his action.

“Thanks, Carly. I tell ya, when I left here, I never thought I’d have to come home. But here I am. It’s lonely here, everyone has moved on, but I’m glad you’re home, too.”