Sidewalk Flower (16 page)

His heart ripped for her pain because he
understood that kind of grief.
 
She sat
there in a worn down heap.
 

“Shh, darlin’.
 
It’s okay.”
 
He had to think and speak carefully.
 
“You’re not a bad person.
 
Your
mom isn’t in that cemetery.
 
Okay?
 
You don’t have to worry about not coming back
here.
 
She’s somewhere we can’t even
imagine, some place where she watches over you and wants you to be happy.
 
To be safe.
 
Okay?
 
It’s all right.”
 

She let him wrap a supportive arm around
her back and rub her shoulder on the other side.

“I’ll go with you, Lucky.”
 

Bracing himself, he stood, got his
bearings and then pulled her up.
 

“You must be freezing cold,” he said.

She shivered in response but did not
admit anything out loud.
 

“Here, let’s do this…”
 
He unbuttoned and slipped out of his light
blue western shirt, leaving himself bare-chested, and then wrapped it around
her as he had done once before.
 
So far,
none of her dresses had been long sleeved and the goose bumps only seemed to be
building on top of each other.
 

In a weak protest, she warned, “Lucky,
no, you can’t go without a shirt.”

He didn’t care about that right now.
 
The church service would possibly be letting
out, the people filing back to their cars, but it didn’t matter.
 

“Yes, I can.
 
Come on, I’m fine.
 
Let’s get you out of here.”

He rubbed the already warmed fabric
against her upper arms and then across her back, keeping her tucked into his
side like a protected football as they made their way up the embankment, over
the red clay and back toward the Jeep.

He had one goal—to keep her wrapped in
practical seclusion from the outside world.
 

Worried that the reason he’d kept Trista
so tightly encased might have become obvious to her, he quickened their
steps.
 
There were people shuttling to
their cars.
 
The area was no longer
sleepy and deserted as it had probably been when she’d arrived and parked.
 
Now, it was awake and full of judgment.

A few children let them pass by without
notice, but the elders seemed to resent their presence and sent dark stares
their way.
 
Hands lay hovering over keys
in doors, necks strained to hold notice at the sight, talk became hushed.
 
He looked down to Trista’s face, which sure
enough, had lost its color.
 
Ridicule
hung thickly in the air.

 
“Lucky, I think I might pass out or pee
myself,” she said through a shiver.

He tucked his head down closer to hers as
they made the last few steps to the Jeep as discreetly as possible.
 
“Don’t pay any attention to them.
 
Okay?
 
They don’t mean anything to you.”

She nodded, and then allowed him to open
her door and help her into the seat.
 

After tragically losing his mom in a
tornado, Lucky had been brought up by his dad and uncle.
 
While they’d done their best to teach him
basic manners, he’d missed out on the feminine touch and class of a mother’s
presence.
 
But he had been taught to
respect others.
 
And this short
experience had been the portrayal of a bunch of folks that lacked basic
humanity.
 

He understood the vacuum that Trista’s
world must have been growing up here.
 
The way she would have felt denied in their unpracticed
Christianity.
 
What a confusing trespass
for someone so young to have figured out.
 
Seeing the way these people acted, he felt sorry for the white building
forced to house them.
 
He’d never seen a
more hypocritical bunch.
   
He looked
around before he took the driver’s seat, at all of the faces still centered
unapologetically on him.
 
The spit he
spewed onto the road was a fraction of what he felt for how they’d let his
friend down.
 

As he drove, he wondered what else there
was to the past that haunted Trista.
 
Would she share that with him?
 
Probably not.
 
She’d
been clear when she said she wished Jaxon hadn’t said anything.
 
But his heart went out to her, on a very
personal level.
 
There were things he
wanted her to know about him.
 
Things
he’d held inside for too long because he’d never had a trusted friend like her
to share it with.

Instead of backtracking their way to the
hotel, he made a very large, out of the way circle.
 
He’d seen enough of Duketown.
 
It was his first act of protecting the woman
he loved.

Chapter
Nine

Trista sat in a tub of warm water Lucky
had drawn for her and then watched through the door opening as he hung her
clothes over the heater vent to dry.
 
Next he made a phone call.
 

 
“That
would be great, ma’am.
 
About how long?”
 
He
fished around in his pockets and pulled out his wallet after hanging up.

He poked his head into the bathroom door,
meeting her prying gaze.
 
“Trista, I have
to step out for a minute, will you be okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”
 
She was still woozy from the turbulence of
her day but now that she was back in the real world, with her friend, Lucky, it
was better.
 
The remorse over what he’d learned
about her still had her down but she had been through worse—that much was
obvious.
 
So she had
lied
a little saying she was fine, but she was getting there.

When Lucky returned, presumably prepared
to pay for their meal, he saw that it had already been delivered and that she
was at the table, wearing her nightgown, and sitting cross-legged on one of
their two chairs.
 
She had taken care of
it.
 
And set the table.
 
She sat waiting for him so they could eat
together and hopefully prove to him she didn’t need him on suicide watch.

“Hey, I’m sorry.
 
I was just out getting money to cover
this.
 
How much was it?”

“
It’s
okay,
Lucky.
 
I got it.”
 
She tried a smile but knew she hadn’t pulled
it off.
 
At any rate, Lucky seemed
determined to be the man.

“No, I’d really like to get this,” he
insisted.

“Next one’s on you.
 
Okay?”

He must have been able to tell she wasn’t
up for an argument because he paused, bit his lower lip, and then sat down.

“Thanks for waiting for me.
 
You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”
 
Considering the day they’d had, it helped
having someone else to think about.
 
Lucky had become her best distraction.

They ate quietly.
 
Some program played on the TV in the
background.
 
When they finished their
meal, it was still early, close to six p.m.
 

Completely exhausted, she eyed the bed
she’d like to curl up in until checkout time tomorrow.
 
She caught Lucky staring at the pillows and
had the feeling he wanted nothing more than to collapse right alongside
her.
 
Poor guy had to have absorbed every
molecule of her angst today.
 
He got up
and immediately began cleaning up their dinner plates, placing a few stray
items of clothing into his bag, even straightening the two chairs so that they
fit perfectly into the side of the table.
 
I knew this would happen.
 
He has no idea what to think of me now.

“Trista, I’m gonna take a shower.
 
You need anything before I jump in?”

“No, go ahead.
 
Take your time.
 
Really, I’m fine.”
   

She just wanted to lie down.
 
The room was dark aside from the bathroom
light which was mostly blocked by the door.
  

Lucky had already pulled back the covers
so sliding into its plump coziness was easy.
 
She tucked a
stiff ,overly
bleached pillow
between her knees.
 
Curled up, she rested
on her side and faced the bathroom wondering what all Jaxon had told
Lucky.
 
The water had to be scorching to
be letting off so much steam.
 

She was thinking of the scalding hot
water when her phone rang from the dresser just feet from her.
 
She was so comfy.
 
Did she have to get it?
 
But she had rarely ever ignored that ringtone
and knew from Lucky that Jaxon had been worried about her.
 
The spite she hadn’t let go of yet told her
it was Jaxon’s fault for not coming.
 
But
that wasn’t fair.
 
She’d probably have
done the same thing if married, for all intents and purposes, to a psychotic
zealot who wanted her entire affections to be centered on only him.
 
Luckily she had no such partner and no
unfortunate child between them.

Begrudgingly, she stumbled out from her
goose-down haven and picked up before the ringing dissolved into a mouthful
that would be his voice message.
 
Better
to deal with it now.
 

“Hello,” she said against a yawn.

But it wasn’t a brutish scolding that
flew at her.
 
He
sounded—humble.
 
“Hi.
 
Hey, it’s good to hear you.
 
You okay?”
 

“Hey, Jax.
 
Yeah, I’m okay.”
 
His stressed yet sincere voice had taken the
bite out of her intended reply.

“Okay, well I don’t have much time, I
just wanted to call and check on you.
 
I
spoke with Lucky earlier.
 
I guess he
must have found you?”

“Yes, about that, Jaxon.
 
Look, I understand why you were worried,
but…I just….you know I didn’t want to get into everything with anyone
else.”
 
She tried her best to keep the
irritation she felt at what he’d shared to a minimum.

“I know.
 
I’m sorry.
 
I knew you’d be so
pissed, but I didn’t know what else to do.
 
He thought I was overreacting about going to find you.”
 
Jaxon quieted on the other end.
 
And then with a slow cadence, he asked her if
she’d been able to visit with her mom in peace.

“No, I tried but—” Her reluctant words
were cut off.
 
She heard a muffled
rubbing sound and a loud female voice in the background.
 
Jaxon must have tucked his phone into his
shirt.
 
She held on patiently until he
returned to their conversation.
 
It
seemed Vangie had returned.

“Sorry about that.”

“Boy, we’re just two messed up peas in a
pod, aren’t we Jax?”
 

“That’s why I love you so, baby girl,” he
said, barely audible.

“I know.”

Before he had to hang up, she wanted to
ask how much he’d told Lucky and beyond that, what business he had set up
through Jaxon in California and how long he planned to be there.
 

“Hey, I have to go.
 
Vangie’s here with Maryellie.
 
I don’t want any problems.
 
You understand.”

“Yeah, I do.
 
It’s okay.
 
I should go, too.
  
Unless you wanted to talk to Lucky?”

She should let Jaxon go before Vangie
laid into him.
 
But it wasn’t her fault
Jaxon was hooked up with someone who found new ways to break his heart and rack
his balls at the same insane times.

“No, it’s okay.
 
I’ve really gotta go.
 
But uh, tell him I said thanks.
 
So I’ll see you in a couple days?”