Ashes Remain

by Alethea Stauron

  “What is it,” she asked.

  “Tomorrow. Don’t worry about it. Not right now. You can’t do anything about it tonight. You don’t have time,” he turns the water down, glancing at her, “It’s you. Always you. You have to pretend you don’t know me. Like we’ve never met. If you see me, ignore me.”

  “What’s me? What do you mean? How could I ignore you?” He dries his hands over his blue jeans. She points at the hanging towel, “I have a hand towel in here. See?”

  He huffs, “Stuff like that,” shaking his head, “You don’t understand. I don’t exist. There’s no evidence of me.”

  “What is me? What you just said? What do you mean by that?”

  “Don’t trouble yourself tonight. You need to think of your relationships. Your friends.” His stern eyes stare at her. It’s in the way he pinches his fingers while speaking, as if he’s trying to purposely explain something else. His movement catches her attention, “You need to find your relationships. Rekindle them in any way that you can. Whether you believe they’re gone or not, rekindle them.” He slowly lowers his hand, but the air is packed by static, “That’s all I can say. Everything is up to you. It’s you at this point.”

  “But my friends… they already know you exist.”

  “Baby…” he leans for a step, pausing before exiting the bathroom, “I need to pass by you.”

  “Oh.” She steps away for him, “Sorry.”

  He scrapes his feet along the floor with drooping shoulders. “Please, don’t be sorry?” He carries himself past the vestibule. “My weakness isn’t entirely your fault. I’m more to blame…” climbing a couple steps up. “When you know who I am.” He stops. Pauses. And spirals back toward her, “You might be angry with me.” His eyes float toward the top of the stairwell. “We’re not the same.” Lucius makes it to her bedroom and glances over, studying how her hands are weaved together. Her fingers are held together like a helpless child. His heart falls, “You mean more to me then I had ever imagined.” He taps over the loft banister, trying to pull himself together. “Your friends weren’t supposed to know who I was. No matter how ludicrous it sounds. You have to pretend you don’t know me. I don’t exist. Or I can get into some really big trouble.”

  “With who,” shyly spoken.

  His foot catches against the floor, frozen by her question. His gaze meets hers, “That… is the right question.” He turns back toward her bedroom door and reaches over the crinkled knob. He taps the handle and reflates the metal. His back is turned toward her, “I’m gonna hide in your room. I’m hiding so I don’t confuse you.” He walks through the doorway. “Because you can still see me.”

  “They won’t stay long.”

  He quickly walks back through, “No. Do not cut your night short. You need this. The visit is natural and makes me innocent.”

  Her brow floats over her hairline, “Alibi?”

  “Something like that.” His voice lowers, “By this point… let’s just say this must happen.”

  “But you’re staying,” she asked. He pauses. The door is half shut with a swing of his hand. His silence is unsettling. She asks, “Lucius, you’re not planning on leaving, are you?” She can almost hear the static in the air with his silence, “Just tell me what I’ve done wrong. I can fix it.”

  “I don’t exist. Remember that. Your friends are coming down the street.” He closes the door.

  Josephine jars back a step. Her brows crease. “How did he…” She swings her front door open, and as he had said, she watches a large diesel engine pulling into her driveway. Complete with snorkel pipe and cattleguard. “David?”

  David’s brows are sewn together. Easily seen through his window. Immediate. His expression is overflowing with worry, and apology. He’s full of anticipation. His cheeks are blotchy with nervousness. He swallows and turns off the truck. She realizes he’s unsure. Afraid of her pushing him away. Afraid of her angst. She tilts her head and subtly nods. David instantly curls his lips to hold in sobbing after witnessing her slight permission. A friend’s apology is accepted.

  She looks beyond him, noticing every seat in his truck is jam-packed and all doors are opening. Carissa, Neil, Amber, and David have come for her. The truck size weight has shed with simple glances. She’s breathing for the first time in over a week. David doesn’t look back. His eyes are anchored on his destination. A friendly smile. A smile he thought he’d never see again.

  She opens her mouth, “Dav —

  But he briskly picks her up like a grandfather. The tension of their history melts away. There’s no confining his apology. And when she clasps her arms around him, he weeps into her armpit. He’s weeping like a schoolboy. Josephine’s face is pressed into his hoodie, trapped within a secure hug of forgiveness. She only knows her other friends are near, when she hears Neil, “Oh, great. Now I’m gonna cry.”

  Without opening the curtains, Lucius activates his vision from her master bedroom. An iridescent electric blue and silver shines over his irises. He smiles, observing her friends crowding around her. The way it should be. She’s stuffed in a warm embrace like a teddy bear. Lucius whispers, “I knew I liked that big fella.”

  When David is mildly controlled, he swallows more than twenty times, saying, “Little sis… sis…” getting a few more swallows out of the way, “Thank you for forgiving me.”

  “I did a long time ago.” She tells him, “I didn’t want this to happen. I was only trying to… I was threatened.” David places her back down and wipes his nose with a sleeve.

  “How,” Amber asks, “Drake? He threatened you?”

  “That jackass,” David shakes his head, “I made it worse.” He wipes his eye. “I was trying to tell you. The guy was a liar.”

  Josephine swings her hands toward the door, “Let’s go inside. We can talk about everything in the kitchen.”

  Carissa lets it slip, “Josephine, you have no idea what he’s done to your reputation. Amber and I were talking about how we can fix this.”

  Josephine whips around on her top step, but Neil interjects, “Let’s talk about this inside. David and I have vouched for you, Josephine. No need to worry.” He glares at his wife with correction, “Carissa didn’t mean anything by it.” He gestures for them to carry on indoors, “Everyone knows you better. It’s difficult for your friends to swallow anything he’d say, especially, after this. The guy was trash.”

  Amber holds David and he wraps his arms around auburn hair, taking in his wife’s comfort. They all enter the house and Josephine glances at her master bedroom. Her friends carry on toward the kitchen, but Amber peeks over at Josephine, “Whatcha looking at, sweetie?”

  Josephine pivots a glance at Amber, “Nothing. Nothing really.” When she sees Amber’s eyes observing over the banister, Josephine asks, “Does anyone want some tea?” She gathers a stance in front of the refrigerator, “I made some earlier.”

  Amber trails behind her, shaking her head and hugs Josephine’s neck. “Bless your heart, honey. Don’t serve us. We should be serving you.” She rests her hand upon Josephine’s shoulder, slightly pulling her toward the breakfast nook, “You’ve been through a lot today. We’re here for you.” Amber briskly opens up a cupboard, pulling down five random plastic cups. One large yellow cup with a nearby barbecue food chain label printed over it, and three matching tumblers with variations in shades of blue, and one thin purple glass. The purple glass is as long as the largest yellow cup. Clearly not as big. Amber spaces the plastic collection out on the countertop and Neil instructs her from the bar, “Give me the big one. The yellow one is mine,” pointing back at himself, “I’m thirsty.”

  “Then I‘ll give you the big one,” Amber smiles and hands the cup to him.

  “Hey,” David uses a deep voice, “I was gonna get that one. I always get that one.” He tries his authority, “I’m your husband, Amber.” His arms spread around the room, “I’m the biggest one here.”

  Neil’s lip slants a snooty expression, “I’ll save som
e for ya.” He winks, taking a sip of his tea.

  David’s brow sticks high on his head, “Fine, but only because I let ya.”

  “My goodness,” Carissa hands David a drink, “Men are full of testosterone. Always a competition for everything.”

  “Yeah it is,” Neil smiles at David. They keep an unspoken competition from utterance. “I can beat him in any competition.”

  David gestures at the women, letting the secret slip, “Like who’s gonna be the first to get his wife pregnant?”

  An uproar of female voices overtakes the room. “I don’t think so,” Carissa shouts. “That’s not a competition.”

  Amber covers Josephine’s eyes, as if guarding her from indecency, “We can’t talk about this stuff here.” Josephine lowers Amber’s hand with a gawking eye. Amber rolls her lips. She turns to David, “I think I have a say in this matter.”

  “I’m not ready,” Carissa says.

  Neil slants eyes at her, knowing exactly why. He plugs his finger back at Josephine, “That could take forever.”

  Josephine’s shoulders fall, “Are you talking about me?” She scans over to Carissa, “Are you still planning on that idea?”

  Carissa plays with her fingernails, “Maybe,” sticking her chin out as if innocent of any conspiring, or planning behind Josephine’s back.

  As Carissa and Amber defend their decisions of holding off, the men plead their cases for wanting to become fathers. Josephine covers her mouth, leaning against her refrigerator,

  until,

  she pans over toward her bedroom door. She turns back toward the conversation, eyeballing Amber. As soon as Amber notices her, Josephine gestures toward her room, “I gotta do something. Something really quick,” she swings her finger between the men of the group, “If you know what I mean.”

  Amber rolls her nodding eyes, offering understanding of why any unmarried woman would want to leave the discussion. And with that, Josephine heads toward her stairwell.

  Lucius stands near the bookshelf, studying a kitty cat collection. He’s memorized them a thousand times before. This time to plug his mind with innocent thoughts. His eyes meander, until noticing one cat holding a sideways heart. “Oh, no.” He plucks the crystal from shelving. The purple heart falls to the floor and he leans down, scooping it up. From the corner of his eye, he glimpses the light under her curtains. “Sunset,” he whispered.

  He raises up slowly, drawing her curtains and blinds open to watch the sun nearing the horizon, “About that time I guess.” He leans his head down, fastening the cat together with a tap of his hand. “If only she knew.”

  Josephine tiptoes over her loft.

  Lucius places his hands upon his head, readying for his twice-daily ritual. A ritual reminding him of who he is.

  She reaches for the knob.

  Rays of sunset rush over trees toward him.

  She turns the knob.

  Lucius twists his broadened eyes around.

  She peeps through the door, staring at a striking sight. Her blinds have been opened. Drapes pulled back, revealing a goldish orange setting sun. “That’s beautiful,” she said. Recently disturbed specks of dust still shimmer like gold between the sun’s rays and her furniture. The glossy finish of her wooden fixtures appears more counterfeit with its illuminated hues shining a glowing brilliance. She closes the door behind her, completely entering into her room with her eyes exploring. “Lucius,” she covered her mouth once whispered, “I mean… baby?” Rays of light cascade across her hazel eyes. She’s nearly blinded by the sunset in her room. It’s difficult to see everything. Then she notices it. The crystal kitty cat lies solemn on the ground. She reaches down.

  “Josephine,” a gentle voice speaks, hiding in the bathroom. “What are you doing up here?” Josephine places her cat on the windowsill, and leans with a step toward the door. She grabs the knob. He says, “Baby, don’t do that,” his lips are hooked into the corner of the door. “Did you see anything? Just then?”

  Josephine looks around the room, studying the colorful light as it caresses in harmony against the surfaces of her furniture. Her head shakes and catches glimmers from her cat, pouring its prisms around the area. She smiles, “I don’t see anything other than the setting sun. Or my cat I picked up from the floor… making rainbows.” She restates, “Not Leo. One of my collectibles.” She pouts lips, pressing them into the slim line of her door frame, “Can you come out?”

  “Um… no. Not right now. Now isn’t a good time.”

  She huffs, “Come on. I know you’re not using the restroom because you’re talking to me against the door.”

  He glances at the toilet, nearly three feet away with a nod. “I’m not coming out because you need to go back downstairs and be with your friends. If I were to come out, you’d do this all night. That’s not fair to them. Besides, we’re not supposed to touch each other. Remember?”

  Josephine shuts her eyes, “I know,” her fingers draw hearts on the door. She imagines the hearts are where he’s standing. Lucius sees her love language through the properties of door. He follows her fingers quietly. Mimicking everything she does. He feels the wooden material beneath his finger pads and pretends it’s her. She says, “I just wanted to see you again.” Sliding her hand down to her side. Her voice is somber, “I love you so much.”

  “I love you, Josephine,” raising his fingers even with her face. Only inches from him. “I’ll see you in a little bit, my love. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She presses off her heels, making her way out of her room. Before leaving, she turns back around. “I love you… more.” She smiles and leaves.

  “Cheater,” he barely whispered. He turns around, sloping against her wall and door frame. And slides down, resting on the floor. “Whoa,” catching his head into his palms, “That was close.” He stares at the shower glass door, remembering how innocent his thoughts used to be. Like a nurse taking care of a patient or brother watching over his sister. Innocent. His mind spirals over how many times he’s memorized her. Never aroused. Never conflicted. And never contemplating being caught in blankets with the general’s daughter. The thought had never entered his mind before she saw him. “I’m in so much trouble.” He gazes upward, “I hope… I hope he sends word… soon.”

  ◆◆◆

  Downstairs at the kitchen table, Amber and Carissa finish clearing the air of what lies Drake had spread, appearing as no more than ancient history between them. Neil and David sit on the barstools lining the large countertop, making small talk about their wives. And, trying to keep their comments undetected. It isn’t until Amber…

  Snap, snap, snaps her fingers together. “That’s enough, David,” her brows floating. “Y’all are like big kids.”

  His childish grin gives him a way, “What,” pointing a crooked lip at Neil for half a moment. “We’re just talking.”

  “David Theodore, don’t you start talking like that here,” Amber said.

  Carissa’s eyes widen, “Neil?”

  “It wasn’t me,” Neil defended himself.

  David scowls, “You little liar,” his lips flip into a smile, “Don’t you pin this on me. You’re just as dirty as they come.”

  Josephine asks, “What,” panning between all of them, “What are they talking about?”

  Amber glowers at David before turning back to Josephine, “You don’t wanna know.”

  “They’re being men,” Carissa’s chin points at her guilty husband. “It’s all they ever talk about.”

  “It’s still technically my honeymoon,” David chuckles, followed by Neil hiding behind his hunched shoulders.

  “Oh, no,” Josephine lowers her eyes with a curled nose, “I don’t wanna know.”

  David shakes his shrouding smile, “I’m gonna eat something.”

  “Me too,” Neil gets up with him. They look through cabinets together, “Hey, where’s your snacks,” Neil looks back.

  “Over the microwave,” Josephine points. She watches them stockpile over
maple crème cookies. David grabs a few more than Neil. “I have ice cream, guys,” she watches them acting like big kids shuffling over the last bomb pop.

  ◆◆◆

  Amber and Carissa look at each other while Josephine’s preoccupied with her marveling across the room. Not long after, and Josephine notices how they look at one another. As if having an unspoken discussion about something. “What,” Josephine’s eyes glanced over at the men and back over to the ladies, “Do y’all want something?”

  Amber tucks her chin down, asking Carissa, “Did you have something you wanted to ask her, Carissa?”

  Carissa clears her throat, only pausing for a moment. “Well, Josephine dear… I —

  “So,” Amber interrupted when remembering the most important factor, “I was wondering, if you’ve spoken to Lucius recently?”

  Upstairs, Lucius opens his ears toward the conversation brewing at the table. “Augh. Not again. Don’t say my name in front of them.”

  Carissa and Amber lean onto their white knuckled hands, gripping the table, waiting for her reply. Their eyes are peeled completely, and almost comically tilting their heads at the same angle. Josephine says, “Um…uh… cough,” her mind spirals around hiding someone up in the bathroom. Someone currently hiding and pretending she has no idea who he is. To their surprise, “Lucius? Lucius who? Who’s that?”

  “Good girl,” his muscles release tension, “That’s good, Josephine.” Lucius feels as though he can relax again.

  Amber cocks her head to the side, “Josephine,” holding her hands up, “You know very well who I’m speaking about. I thought you really liked him. Weren’t y’all engaged or something?”

  Josephine is flushed on her neck. Her cheeks stippled. She pulls on her collar a little, breathing through nervousness, “Really? I don’t know who you’re talking about,” she gulped.

  By this time even the men in the kitchen have turned around and looking at her.

  Josephine’s vision wanders around the room with a shrug of her shoulders, “What? Why y’all looking at me?”