I sat a drop straighter. Well that perked up my night.
"And when I mentioned you're a very close friend of mine, it made me cool by association."
I laughed. "Glad I could help."
We talked about high school, our memories of being teens, and how odd it is for him to be back at our old school with authority. And then I told him about yesterday morning when Erin called me a tart and insinuated Jared hadn't broken up with her, and how upset Will had been.
He sighed heavily into the phone. "Are you thinking about getting back with Will?"
"What? No. Of course not. He may have believed we'd get back together, but the moment he said we should take a break, I felt relieved. As if I no longer had this obligation."
Jared softly chuckled. "Wow, that's romantic."
I laughed. "Shut up. I'm sorry I hurt him. Really. But it's over. I'm more concerned about your crazy ex and what she was suggesting."
"What are you asking? Because I told you the truth. I broke up with her. Maybe she had it in her head we were on a break, like Will, but I never suggested we had a chance in the future." His tone was a mixture of hurt and annoyed.
I hadn't meant to second-guess him or to make him think I hadn't trusted him, but…maybe for a moment I hadn't. Could anyone have blamed me? I'd recently learned my biological father may have been a grumpy, murdering actor, my mother lied about not knowing who my father was, and Grams knew it all. Not to forget Max keeping the inheritance from me, although I understood that one. I'd say that I was doing pretty darn well just managing to open my eyes and breathe each day.
"Have you reached Erin's family?" I asked, changing the subject. My lower back knotted up. I managed to move without groaning too loudly and shifted my position so I was fully stretched out on the sofa. Ah, that was more comfortable.
"I spoke with her mother, who didn't seem to care." He sounded disappointed.
"That stinks."
"Yeah. She told me that Erin had always been too much to handle. Even as a kid, she'd tell lies to get her way or to get out of trouble. She had a really hard time in grade school with other kids—always getting into trouble. And that in high school, she was almost arrested for breaking into a boy's house. They found her sleeping under his bed."
Chills ran down my arms. I grabbed the quilt resting on the back of the couch. "Oh my God, that's creepy. Does she need professional help?" It was a stupid question. I'd have her committed for sure.
"I'm starting to think that way."
I opened the blanket, threw the bottom part over my feet, and then pulled the rest up to my chin. Snug as a bug in a rug. Mom used to say that when she'd tucked me in at night. "And she never showed any craziness when you lived with her?"
"Not overtly. Now that I know more, when I think back, she was possessive. But a lot of girls are."
I rolled my eyes. Not that many.
"Unfortunately, my hands are tied. There's nothing I can do," he said. I imagined he was running his fingers through his hair at this moment. He always did when he was stressed or had a complex problem he was trying to solve.
"I wish I had an answer, but I've yet to figure out where Holly and Gloria were the day Nathan died. It's been hard getting them alone. Not that I thought they'd tell me, and I don't know who else would know. Like if Holly had made the scones, where did she do it? I doubt she could use the kitchen at the B and B, so that left Nathan's house, but how likely was it that Nathan let his sister use his kitchen?"
I still had more questions than answers.
"You're not supposed to figure it out. That's a job for the police."
"I thought you were on my side."
"I am, but I don't want you to get hurt. I wouldn't be able to function without you by my side."
My chest swelled. That was the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone had ever said to me. Even if he'd been coming from a platonic place, it was the best. Will flashed in my mind. I needed to get him out of my head. Something was nagging at me though. Yes, he'd been upset in the bakery. He seemed hurt. But there was this calmness to it all, like he either truly hadn't cared about us or he was using all his willpower to control his feelings.
The first one would've left me with a jumble of feelings. I never wanted to hurt him. The thought of it made my throat constrict. But I also would've been relieved. It would mean I didn't have to feel guilty. However, if he was controlling his feelings, then that was a bit unnerving. Were he and Erin closer in personality than I knew, and was there a side to Will I hadn't seen yet?
"Did I scare you into silence?" Jared whispered in my ear.
"What? Scared? No, why?"
"We haven't discussed the kiss yet. Are you pretending it didn't happen?"
I smiled and snuggled under the blanket more. "No. I just…well, I…I don't know what to say. With everything else, it's the nicest part of my life right now, and I'm afraid that if I analyze it, it'll vanish."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said in a deep, husky tone that made my toes curl. "I'm glad I didn't scare you away."
"Never. I just didn't know you saw me that way. Tara knew, but not me."
He chuckled. "Tara is wise."
I tugged at my lower lip with my teeth. "Is this a rebound thing though? I mean, you did just break up with Erin, right?"
"It's not a rebound. I promise." He said it with such finality, as if there was no room for discussion.
"Okay."
"You sound sleepy." Now he was changing the subject.
It was just as well. My eyelids were drooping. "Yeah. It's been a long day, and I have to get up super early."
"All right. Go to sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow. 'Night."
"'Night," I said and clicked off the call. I turned onto my side, glanced at the commercial for Cheerios on TV, and shut my eyes.
* * *
A clanking sound pushed the sleep from my brain and startled me. My eyes sprang open, and my pulse raced. What was that sound? I stared at the coffee table and the TV. The
Late Night
show was on, and an actor I didn't recognize was waving at the audience.
I flung the blanket off of me and got to my feet. The cool night air had seeped through the walls. I rubbed my sleeveless arms and then wrapped the quilt around my shoulders. What had woken me?
"Hello, Grams?"
Silence.
I walked to the front windows. The street was empty. No reporters. I checked the front door. It was still locked. I opened it just enough to stick my head out. No one seemed to be in the area. Then I noticed a blue wagon across the street, in our neighbors' driveway. It was at the end, almost in the street, and on its side. It must've rolled down and tipped over. Our neighbors were an older couple who babysat their young grandson often.
I giggled and relocked the door. Mystery solved. Just the same, I checked the garage and kitchen doors. Everything was locked up tight. I would've liked to have blamed my jitteriness on too many movies or crime shows, but suddenly, my real life was darker than what came through on the TV. I picked up the remote, clicked it off, and walked up to my bed, kicking the bedroom door shut behind me. With the quilt still around my shoulders, I slid under the covers and passed out again.
A shrill screaming made me bolt up. What the hell was going on now?
It took me a second to realize it was the smoke alarm. Those old things needed to be replaced. Sometimes they went off for no reason at all. They were sensitive around dust, and neither Grams nor I collected dust bunnies on a regular basis. It would eventually turn itself off.
As I was about to lie back down and cover my ears with a pillow, I sniffed and smelled smoke.
Shit.
I jumped up and threw open my door. Billows of black smoke filled the hall. Where was it coming from? I hadn't cooked anything last night. The quilt was still around my shoulders. I pulled a corner over my mouth and took a step down closer to the smoke.
Mixed with the shrieking of the alarm was a flapping sound. That was when I noticed the flames at the bottom of the stairs. There was an actual fire.
Coughing and trying to take in small breaths, I ran to the top of the stairs. There had to be a way down. I couldn't just stay here. It was hard to see anything though. There were no lights on down there, and the smoke burned my eyes. What if I only went down several steps and then jumped over the side of the banister? I couldn't tell where the fire was though. Maybe the TV short-circuited, and that's how it began. And even from this distance, the fire's heat tickled my toes.
I stepped back and coughed and coughed until I gagged. I headed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. I took the blanket off my face and flipped the light switch. I grabbed the towel off the rod and soaked it in cold water. My mind raced with possible scenarios, but none of them made much sense. I needed to get downstairs and out of the house, and I couldn't figure out how.
My phone was downstairs. One of the few times I remembered where it was located, and I still couldn't get to it. Had the neighbors noticed the flames? Surely some of this smoke had gotten outside too. I wasn't so certain of that though. I had checked the house earlier when I'd heard that noise. All of the windows were shut and locked.
I squeezed the towel as best as I could and pressed it to my nose and mouth. I considered doing the same with the quilt, to protect my body, but there was no time. This wasn't like how I'd seen it in the movies. My hands shook, my body trembled, and my throat was already dry and felt sore. I needed to get out now.
I opened the door and took a step back. It seemed as if the smoke had gotten thicker, but I wasn't sure. I walked to the top of the stairs again and saw that the flames had definitely risen. They now reached the fourth or fifth step, and tendrils of orange and yellow blaze trailed up the wall. There was no way to get around it without getting singed.
I ran into my room, shut the door, and leaned against it. Tears fell down my cheeks. It momentarily relieved the stinging but only made me feel weaker. I slid to the floor and cried.
Smoke drifted beneath the door, danced over the fingers of my left hand. I pulled the quilt off my shoulders and rammed it beneath the door as much as I could. It wouldn't be long before it didn't matter though.
Wait. Why was I giving up? That wasn't me. When life gave me lemons, I made lemon cupcakes. I was a fighter, not a quitter.
I struggled to my feet and glanced around my room. It was dark, but I hadn't lowered the blinds all the way, and the moon shone softly inside. The window. I laughed and then coughed and gagged but still laughed. Of course! I was an idiot.
I ran to my window, yanked it open, and took one glance back. Lying over my light-blue armchair was the pink dress that had belonged to three generations of Templeton-slash-Spencer women. It may have been dumb, but I couldn't lose it. I snatched it and crawled onto the rooftop. My favorite place. The one I used to sneak out of the house from. Except it had been years since I'd thrown myself at a tree.
The flames were not only visible from the outside of the house but they climbed the siding like ivy. My heart sank. There wasn't time to dwell on structural damage, but I knew the house would be destroyed by the time this was over. I just hoped I wouldn't be too.
I reached the edge of the roof closest to the tree and stared at it and the ground. There was no way I was going to make that leap. I may have been fit, but I wasn't as agile or as stupid as when I was sixteen. What was wrong with just sitting up here until the fire trucks showed up? Someone had to have called 9-1-1 by now.
It was hard to hear much aside from the flames and alarm. I feared that ringing would be with me forever. I coughed and gagged and spit. If I had a forever. The flames raged on as I contemplated the tree again. It was only a matter of time before they reached my spot. I knew I couldn't wait. I had to save myself. I thought of Grams, Amber, Uncle Doug, Aunt Bernie, Jared, and Tara. Even Max and Will. All the people in my life whom I didn't want to lose, whom I wanted to see again.
I rolled the dress into a ball and threw it as far as I could. It flew through the air for half a second, and then it flitted to the ground. I squatted on the balls of my toes and reached out with my left arm. I was miles away from the nearest branch. Or so it felt. Maybe I should've put on my heels. Then I would've felt closer. Why wasn't I hearing sirens? Was everyone in this neighborhood deaf?
The flames turned and angled themselves toward me. They leapt onto the far edge of the roof and moved toward me with precision. I'd heard that fire was alive, but this felt personal. I would've laughed at that absurdity if my chest wasn't heavy and didn't feel like it was about to crack open.
I let the towel go and watched it fall to the ground below. Hopefully, I'd make as graceful of a landing. With both arms outstretched and thoughts of chocolate in mind, because I needed something delicious to distract me, I jumped.
I wished I could've said the flight was magnificent and I felt like a bird soaring through the wind. But I couldn't. While in midair, I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed I'd make it, prayed I wouldn't gouge out an eye on a branch. The entire time, gravity pulled at me. My heart felt like it was in my feet, and all I wanted to do was scream and cry.
Suddenly my body hit something. I opened my eyes and stared at bark. That was better than grass or being dead. The branch I aimed for was to my right, and I realized I was pressed up against the trunk of the tree. And I was slipping.
Oh God!
I reached for the branch, but my fingertips grazed it as I slipped toward the ground. Before I had time to see my life flash before me, my butt and then my back hit the ground with extreme force. I lay there, staring up at the tree that metaphorically saved my life in high school and literally had done so just now. I tried to chuckle, but the burning in my chest was too deep for more than a cough.
I could see the flames from the corner of my eyes. I was afraid to turn my head, just in case I'd severed my spine or something equally horrible and debilitating. I was alive though, and that's what mattered.