From The Wreckage (14 page)

"It's fine. She's alright," he mumbles and touches her forearm lightly.

Jules looks up at him to see him smile and lean towards her. The screen on his
phone dims in his lap and his lips part slightly. That is the last thing she’s cognizant of before his light goes out and his lips touch hers.

It is a perfect, soft caress; his parted lips pulling hers between his, the tip of his nose skimming hers. The hand that touches her forearm moves down her arm to find her hand; their fingers weaving together.

Jules gasps as she pulls out of her memories. She looks at West and the urge to kiss him is overwhelming.

"Wow
—
I can remember it so clearly, yet I haven't thought about it in years." She stands and bends down to brush the dirt from her calves.

"Remember what?"

"My first kiss," she hints.

West's hand moves from his pocket to cross over his chest and rub his bicep. For someone who stopped playing football four years ago, he sure is in great shape. She walks over to him and places her hand on his forearm in a mimic of his gesture. West's arm drops and he locks his dark eyes on hers as she slides her hand down his arm, searching out his hand.

They stare at each other and wrap their fingers together; their warm palms touching as their lips once did.

Her voice wavers as she speaks. "You held my hand back then, too."

"I know," he admits. "There's something magical about your hands."

If the memory wasn't so poignant, she would have laughed. Instead, her throat burns as emotions swirl through her. She leans in and rises up on her toes slowly. Her free hand closes on the hem of his tee shirt to help her balance, and his eyes widen as she begins to inch forward.

Without warning, West blinks, mutters a curse under his breath and pulls back from Jules. Shaking their hands apart, he clenches the hand she held into a tight fist and walks over to where his shirt is; bending down to pick it up.

Jules stands there with her empty hand dangling at her side. Tears burn in her eyes while shame burns in her heart.

"Let's get you home," he says and starts walking back the way they came, leaving Jules to follow without another word.

The ride to her house is made in silence. They have to take several detours around the midtown area in order to get to her neighborhood, and Jules looks forlornly at the devastation as they pass it. People litter the streets, going through belongings not one mile from her own home.

As they pull up to her drive, she sighs inwardly. She isn’t sure what to say anymore. She tried to kiss West!
Good Lord, Jules! What were you thinking?
she thinks to herself as he flicks the bike engine off. He leans forward and hangs his arms over the handlebars, and she swings her leg off the bike, careful not to touch the tailpipe with her bare skin.

She quietly pulls the helmet off and hangs it from his handlebars the way she saw him do at the farm. She stands there for a moment and runs her fingers up and down the leather strap of the purse she wears across her chest, waiting. When he keeps his eyes down and doesn’t speak, she decides to leave.

Two steps away, she stops and takes a deep breath. She’s opening her mouth to apologize when he speaks first.

"Where's Stuart?" His voice is flat.

Guilt makes her want to cry when she faces him. "His parents freaked out and took him to his grandparents’ house in Houston for a few days."

"You're still together, right?" His eyes are sad. She knows he already knows the answer to that question, so she only nods.

His head drops and he runs his hands through his hair before sitting up and sliding off the bike, and Jules’ hopes soar as he does so. He steps up to her and blows out a deep breath before taking her hand again.

"I won't mess with what you have with him, Jules. That's not my style. But..." She holds her breath at the 'but'. "I don't know if I can stay away from you. Can we be friends, at least? I can't imagine not being able to look at this hand, even if I can't hold it again."

She nods again, unable to speak for fear of breaking down.

"Give me your cell."

She wrinkles her brow as she pulls the cell phone from her purse and hands it to him. Jules watches as he silently types something and then lifts the flap of her bag up and drops the phone back in.

"My number, in case you ever need anything. You know, since we're friends and all."

All she can do is mumble “Thanks”. She’s in shock at his request that they be friends. She doesn’t
want
to be friends with West…does she? No. She wants to kiss him. She wants him to hold her close and keep her safe. Heaven help her, she is confused! His next question only makes her more confused.

"Tomorrow is going to be hard for you. Will he be there?"

"He's supposed to ride with me and my parents. He'll be back in the morning," she explains; her voice cracking, but managing to hold the tears at bay.

West nods. "Okay then. I'll be there too." He leans down and presses a warm kiss to her cheek, which surprises her. "I'll be the one mentally holding this hand," he murmurs, and lifts her fingers to his lips.

"The magical hand?"

"Yeah, the very magical hand. I told you it was my anchor."

They stand there for a moment before he backs up one step and then another. Their arms stretch out as the width between them grows, but their hands stay connected.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Buffy," he promises, and their hands pull apart slowly. Jules watches his fingers slide from hers as if in slow motion. Then she turns and walks to her front door, looking back once to see West standing there watching her. When she reaches her front door she gives him a wave as he climbs on his bike and fastens the helmet.

While waiting for him to take off, she feels her phone vibrate in her small purse. She pulls out the phone as West turns into the street. Swiping the lock key, she finds a text from Stuart waiting for her and frowns. Another text. She hasn't spoken to him since Sunday. Three days. It’s akin to a world record for them.

Stuart: Got some cool news today. I'll be driving back tomorrow for the funeral but might be later than expected. Meet you there?

Jules: Sure

She feels a nagging guilt in the pit of her stomach and adds an 'I miss you' to the end of her text. She has no idea what’s going on with her and West, but she hates what she knows is happening with her and Stuart.

Thirteen

When he doesn’t reply right away she walks into the house, kicks her dress sandals off at the door, pulls her purse off and tosses it on the table in the foyer.

"Jules!" Jason yells as he runs down the stairs and throws himself at her.

"Hey buddy. Where's Mom and Dad?"

"Out back. Where were you?"

"Just out, bud. What's for dinner?"

He shrugs his shoulders and keeps his hands firmly attached to her hips.

"What have you been doing today? Did you get to see any of your friends?"

"No."

"No? Sorry, bud."

"It's okay, I didn’t want to go out anyway. There's a twenty percent chance of rain today, with isolated thunderstorms moving in this evening."

Jules bites her lip and forces a smile as she messes with his shaggy hair. "There is, huh? Wow, you're getting good at being a weatherman. Maybe you'll grow up to be one."

"Maybe," he agrees with another little shrug. "Then I could tell everyone when tornadoes are coming before they come, right?"

Jules starts to tell him they
did
know, but she knows he won’t understand. "Of course you could."

She leans down and picks him up in a Hulk hug, which makes him squeal. Once she hears his laugh ring out, she puts him down again; happy to see a smile on his face, if only for a moment.

"I'm going to go talk to Mom and Dad and I'll check on dinner."

"Okay. Tell them to come inside before seven-thirty."

"Seven-thirty?"

"Yep. Storm percentage moves to forty percent at seven-thirty," he calls over his shoulder as he trudges up the stairs.

Shaking her head, Jules walks onto the back patio where her parents are drinking wine and talking. Her mother gets up immediately, crossing over to pull Jules into a powerful hug.

"Hi baby, you doing good?" she asks, placing a kiss on her head.

"It was good. A lot of people were there. Jase recited the forecast for me when I walked in."

Her parents exchange glances. "We know."

"Okay, well he wants me to make sure you come in at seven-thirty because there’s a forty percent chance of rain. Does he not remember how perfect the weather was that night?"

"Hun, he's scared. He's young and doesn't understand."

"I know."

Her dad takes a long sip from his wine. His eyes are heavy; dark from sleepless nights and long days of recovery work. Thankfully his office building wasn’t damaged, but their company gave everyone the week off with pay to help with clean-up efforts and be available for their families.

He has been working from sun-up to sun-down all week. Her mom has been cooking meals for families who lost loved ones or who were still in shelters while waiting on home placements. As she looks at their tired faces, she wishes she could do more as well. She's been so immersed in her own grief this week, she hasn't thought about what she can do to help others.

"I want to volunteer to help with rebuilding or something."

Her dad smiles at her softly. "Honey that's great, but with your concussion and all the funerals, you really need to be careful that you don’t overdo it."

"How about next week? After my next doctor’s appointment and once the funerals are done? There's so much that needs to be done and I want to help."

"I'm sure we can find something for you to do. Let's get through this week and see what the doctors say. Don't forget you'll be starting school soon, too."

"Speaking of, have they made any decisions on that yet?" Jules asks, looking between her parents.

"Not yet, honey. There are so many decisions to be made."

"At this point I won't be graduating until July." She is exasperated because she knows every day they push off the school year is another day into the summer she'll be in class.

"They'll make the best decision they can, Jules. You know, in Joplin they’re still going to school in the mall."

"Well that might not be so bad. Imagine all the shopping I could get done."

"Just what my wallet needs," her dad mutters with a frown and winks at her playfully.

"Oh! Before I forget, Stuart is going to meet us at the funeral tomorrow, so we don't have to wait for him."

"How are his parents? Did you get to talk to him?"

"Nope, another text." She gives another big sigh and her mom sends her a sympathetic smile.

"I spent the afternoon with West."

"Rutledge?" her dad asks; sitting forward and holding his now empty wine glass.

"Honey, how many boys do we know named West?"

Jules grins at her mother’s reply. "Yes, Rutledge. He dropped me off."

"You should have invited him in. I’d like to see him again. To thank him," her dad offers.

"Maybe next time." She shrugs her shoulders and stands. It doesn’t register in her brain that she automatically assumes there will be a next time. "You know what? I'm gonna jump in the shower. I'm exhausted today, and then tomorrow..." She trails off and looks at the knowing looks on her parents’ faces. "Well, tomorrow's going to be hell."

"Alright, baby girl. I thought we'd do breakfast for dinner. I'll start the pancakes in a few minutes to give you time to clean up."

"Jason will like that." She smiles and leaves her parents behind. Climbing the stairs, she pokes her head into Jason's room and smiles at the mess he's made. He built a fort surrounded by pillows and blankets in the corner of his room, and she can hear him talking to himself and playing in there.

"Hey bud, mom’s making breakfast for dinner. Why don't you go help her?"

"’Kay!" his little voice calls out from inside the fort.

Jules steps into her room and locks her door before stripping off her dress and turning the shower on. She looks at the pictures scattered on her floor while waiting for the water to heat up. Earlier, she pulled together piles of pictures for Tanya's mom to use at the funeral tomorrow. Scanning the floor, one catches her eye and she slides a few out of the way as she bends down and pulls out a picture from the year-ending sixth grade pool party. It was a group photo, and a smile crosses her lips as she surveys the assembled kids. There she is in the front with her arms slung around Katie and Tanya, and the other middle school cheerleaders are lined up in the same pose on either side of them. They are surrounded by boys sitting below them and standing behind them, and Jules laughs as she looks at Jeff with his tow-headed spikes and Tommy with his signature crooked Dallas Cowboys hat. He flashes peace signs on either side of Susan Madoff's head, and Susan looks to be yelling at him.