Lasting Shadows

by Bonnie Gardiner

  “You get back to work. I’ll do this.”

  He sighed, again staring at the back of her head as he sat.

  “I can’t work like this Kate. I really need no distractions.”

  “I have to do the dishes, Quinn. After that, I’ll get out of your way.”

  “I’ll set up your reservation. Where do you want to go?”

  She frowned at him.

  “I need space, Kate. I have to get my work done. You know this. It’s how I always work.”

  Her shoulders drooped.

  “I know,” she said in a tiny voice. “I just hoped…”

  He groaned and got up, walking up behind her. He rubbed her arms.

  “Look,” he said. “After the book is done, maybe we can go somewhere for a few days, okay? If you’re not back with Jack, that is.”

  She tensed.

  “He’s gonna know you’re coming here.”

  She frowned and nodded. He felt her body tremble as she cried.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  He kissed her cheek and neck and patted her bottom.

  “So finish up, take the cash and go find a hotel,” he said. “And this time Kate, please, don’t tell me where you are. If Jack was to come ask, I would feel obligated to tell him. Hell, looking at your face, he’d probably beat me to a pulp if I didn’t tell him.”

  She bit her lip.

  Of course, we both know, he didn’t hit you.

  She sighed, letting her head drop to her chest.

  “Alright…”

  He kissed her again.

  “It’s all gonna be okay, babe.”

  ***

  Kate’s car pulled away finally, the dishes done, the crying over, the last petting and kissing gone. She told him she loved him three more times. Each time Quinn felt both a little thrill and an intense need to dry heave. He dropped hard in his chair by the laptop, at last blocking out the outside world to work on the book.

  His phone vibrated on the table, the little jingle startling the quiet. He sighed, fully expecting it to be Kate saying ‘I love you’ one last time. Instead, Tamara sent another selfie. This time the bare chest was not hers. He smiled at what he saw. Megan had a cat tattoo on the left side of her chest, up high, but low enough the tail crept down halfway on the round mound of her left breast. He stared at her a long moment, then stood, pulling off his t-shirt. He held out his camera and took a picture of his own chest, sending it to them with a winking face.

  “It’s only fair,” he texted.

  He got a flood of grins and LOLs and chuckled to himself. Texts began popping up so fast he had to read quickly to keep up.

  “Ooh, cool Quinn.” Presumably, that was Megan. “But I was kinda hoping to see something more interesting.”

  “OMG! I can’t believe she said that,” Tamara said. “Ignore her, baby.”

  “Well,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll send a pic of mine if you send yours.”

  Tamara sent a flurry of emoji then, shocked face, thinking face, giggling face and then a thumbs up.

  Another text popped up separately.

  “New contact, Megan Richards.” He smirked and saved her number.

  She sent him a winking face.

  “Shhh.”

  He laughed and shook his head.

  “Bad girl,” he said to himself. “Angel didn’t stand a chance with Billy. Megan knows what she’s doing.”

  “Okay,” he said, texting again to Tamara. “Angel, look, I have to get back to work, alright? You and kitty there have a great day.”

  Another flood of emoji followed, cat faces from Megan and sad ones from Tamara.

  “Aww, but baby I really wanted to see your picture.”

  He chuckled.

  “Well, hurry up and send yours then.”

  He got up and poured himself a glass of ice tea while he waited. The little noise erupted from his phone.

  Tamara sent hers first, a little off-center, half-covered by panties. And a minute or two after that, Megan sent hers. He sucked in a surprised gasp. He texted to Megan’s number.

  “Nice and smooth, kitty.”

  She winked at him.

  “She knows exactly what she’s doing,” he said to himself. “I should warn angel. She’ll never keep a boyfriend with Megan around.”

  A new text popped up from Tamara.

  “Well? Did you like what you see, Quinn?”

  “I’ll show you just how much, kitty,” he said.

  They sent back faces with hearts in their eyes.

  He chuckled and lowered his pants taking the shot and hitting send, sitting back down.

  “There you go. Now scat. I have to get back to work.”

  Megan sent him hearts and kissy faces from her own phone. She followed it up with a sticking out tongue. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning off his phone.

  ***

  “Christina struggled to hold up the broken rafter, the flames, rain, and smoke blinding her. Reginald stopped moving. She cried as she tugged at the thing, jerking it hard but the heavy wood refused to move. She looked around for something to prop it up, seeing the walking stick they used before. She wedged it under and pushed as hard as she could. It raised the rafter up slightly, but the walking stick snapped in half. She cried out, dropping into the mud. The fire crept steadily toward them, steadily toward Reginald.”

  The north train rumbled past. Quinn focused on the real world again, feeling a strong pang of hunger in his belly.

  “Lunch,” he said. “I never ate lunch.”

  He sighed, standing and stretching, bones popping. He winced with pain.

  I have to try and move around more.

  He made himself a sandwich and dropped on the recliner, turning on his phone.

  A series of long messages popped up from Carol.

  “Hi, Quinn. Look, I’ve been thinking. I feel really funny talking to you. I know you’re trying to help and all, but it’s just odd talking to another man, even though it’s all been innocent. I think if he knew, it would hurt him deeply and I just don’t want to do anything to hurt him. Please understand. I think I might need to delete your number from my contacts.”

  “I understand perfectly, Carol. Really. You do whatever you need to do. Just understand I am here whenever you need to talk.”

  He looked over his contacts, staring for a long moment at Lily’s name. For a moment he felt intensely alone. He started to text her, to ask how she is, but stopped himself.

  Patience. Let her have control.

  He looked at Kate’s name and tapped it.

  “Hi, babe. Did you get settled in?”

  He ate half his meal before she answered.

  “Hi, Quinn. Yes. Never saw Jack. Maybe he didn’t follow me.”

  “I tried to convince him to go home last time I talked to him,” he said. “Maybe he listened.”

  “I hope so.”

  He stood and cleaned up, heading back to his workspace. She texted him again.

  “I miss you, Quinn. I wish you could come see me. I found a place only a half-hour from you. You could come stay here overnight and go back there to work.”

  He chuckled.

  “If I get the chance I’ll try, alright?”

  “I’ll give you the address.”

  “Kate, wait. Just hold onto it until I know I can come, alright? Better to be safe, yeah?”

  “Oh. Alright.”

  He set down the phone, seeing a correction he needed to make in the book. It vibrated again.

  “I loved waking up to you today,” she said.

  She sent him a heart.

  He stared at it for a long moment, then shut off his phone to throw himself into his work.

  ***

  He worked three more hours, the day dragging on, quiet and peaceful.

  Too peaceful.

  He frowned and stood again, stretching and bending. He poured a fresh glass of tea, the ice tinkling like wind chimes, and opened the front door. The sunny afterno
on called to him. He peered across the street as he took a sip. The old woman was not in her traditional spot in the rocker. He checked around but she was nowhere to be seen.

  He stepped out on the porch smiling at the cool breeze. The porch swing creaked, moving a little. He sat on it, soaking in the coming change of weather, watching the clouds in the distance. The bottles tinkled, catching the setting sun, glittering back at him. Crickets cranked up their evening chorus.

  He closed his eyes, letting his thoughts drift back to Lily the night before. He found himself comparing her to Gin in so many ways. The ways that attracted him to Gin in the first place.

  I should just give her a call. Ask if she’d like to have dinner. Ask her how her friend is doing.

  Tell her I want to make love to her again.

  He breathed in deep, remembering their passionate romp in her bed. He felt something strong with her, something that took him and pulled him to think of her, all day long, no matter how much he tried to close it away, to box it off. He knew, no matter what, he wanted to see her again.

  He let his head drop back, looking up, his eyes still closed, imagining, replaying the night in his mind.

  A strong acrid stench filled his nostrils. He choked at it, opening his eyes. Thick smoke surrounded him, colored orange by the setting sun. He coughed, trying to wave it away, but it grew back thicker, making it hard to breathe. Ash drifted with it. He staggered to his feet, still coughing, the glass of tea smashing somewhere below him. He could see nothing but inches in front of him. He stumbled forward, waving his hands and coughing, stepping blindly. He put his right foot down hard on nothing at all and found himself falling.

  He landed wrong on his right foot, a sharp shot of pain cracking from his ankle. He fell to his hands, flinching. He squinted back up at the porch.

  The sun’s last rays of the day dropped behind the horizon. The orange and red sky had turned purple. He blinked. The smoke was gone. His tea dripped from the edge of the porch into the grass, a few mostly melted ice cubes rested there and on the edge of the porch with bits of glass. He huffed, shaking his head, his heart thundering in his chest.

  “What the fuck?”

  He let his head fall in his hand, still laying on the grassy yard by the steps. A rush of fear flooded into him. He trembled, his teeth chattering.

  I’m going crazy here, he thought. Why am I doing this to myself?

  “To write,” he said aloud. He grabbed the stairs and pulled himself to stand, his right ankle twinging with pain with every step.

  ***

  After a painful trek up the stairs, he sat on the toilet in the bathroom cleaning his wounds and wrapping up his ankle. He hopped to the kitchen, making himself an ice pack and then hopped into the living room with his phone.

  His thumb hovered over Lily’s name but he took a deep breath and hit Kate’s instead. He got her answering service.

  “Hi, babe. You won’t believe this, but some crazy shit just happened again. I don’t know Kate, maybe I should go join you in a hotel. This place… well, anyway, long story short, there was smoke and I fell, hurt my ankle. Gonna limp a while, but I’m okay. Just shook me up.”

  He spoke a little more, talking of the progress on the book, but the message service cut him off. He stared at the phone a long moment, then stretched out in the recliner, staring at the ceiling. His ankle throbbed.

  Chapter 12

  THE DINER

  The train whistle blasted. Quinn turned a little but fell still. The little jingly tune rang from his phone, the vibration making it rattle on the bedside table. He sighed but stayed still. It rang again. He fought to open one eye. His ankle throbbed with pain. He fumbled on the table for the phone, without sitting up. He peered at the screen with one eye closed.

  Tamara left fourteen messages from her and Megan, begging for more pictures and pleas for him to come to visit them. They wanted him to take them dancing. He sighed, closing his eye for a few seconds.

  Kate only sent one line.

  “I miss you.”

  He stared at Lily’s name a moment seeing she had sent a message too.

  “I do not want to see you ever again, Quinn Tilman. Delete my number.”

  He stared at her words, both eyes open. He tapped her name, listening to the ringing. It went on and on. He ended the call and texted her.

  “I don’t understand, Lily. I thought everything was going so well. What did I do? Did something happen?”

  He stared at the screen. A very long moment passed. She finally responded.

  “Miranda knows.”

  He turned to the windowsill. The memory of the shadow box in the window flashed at him. He scrambled off the bed, hobbling in pain down the hall. He dropped into the kitchen chair by his laptop and logged in, pulling up all the photos he had taken since he had arrived.

  He opened the one he sent her, zooming in close. His heart thudded in his chest.

  “What did she see? That’s my bed. My curtains. Music for Angela, the wedding ring for Virginia…” His eyes widened. “The salt and pepper shakers for Lily…and the… the…” He zoomed in a little further, making the image more blurry. “The paper heart. The angel.” He frowned. “Tamara. She’s representing both of them in there.” He shook his head. “That can’t be all there is to this. Lily couldn’t possibly know about Tamara.”

  He picked up his phone and dialed her again. It just rang and rang. He ended the call and tried to text her again.

  “Lily, please. Can you please tell me what’s wrong?”

  He sighed as he waited to see ‘delivered’ under the message, but nothing showed.

  “So that’s it,” he said. “I’ve lost that one.” He sighed. “She’s blocked me. A shame.”

  He groaned, rubbing his face with one hand, but got up and half hopped to the bath to start his day.

  ***

  Miserable and in pain, he stood in the shower a long time, letting the agony of the loss of both Lily and Gin soak into him. He hid his tears in the hot water, letting it beat at his face.

  She was probably just like Gin. It would never have worked. Too damned high strung. Too fucking busy.

  Neither of them deserves me.

  He huffed, washing his face and shutting off the water, limping back to the bedroom to get dressed.

  ***

  He limped back out to the kitchen, making a fresh ice pack and something small and simple for breakfast. The pain was too great to sit at the table so he snatched up his voice recorder and hobbled to the living room, making an office for himself there in the recliner. He sat and ate as he dictated, throwing himself into his work.

  Lily’s face continually flooded his mind, her voice, her perfume. He stopped the recorder and let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling.

  Is she a gossiper? Will I step out there and find the town whispering behind my back?

  He imagined it for a moment, seeing Billy and Stephen and Dan and Rosie and Dean Christmas and all the others glaring at him as he passed. He shook it away.

  ‘Miranda knows.’ Lily’s words seemed to flutter by like a whisper.

  He closed his eyes trying to will the thoughts away, but Lily kept shimmering there, writhing under him, her mouth on his. He stared up at the ceiling again, knowing he had to find someone to fill her slot in his life.

  Megan?

  He frowned.

  She’s only good for one thing. Like Rita. A tramp. A little vixen. Probably carrying diseases she’s never even heard of.

  He lifted his phone and stared at Lily’s name again. He scrolled up, seeing names from the past flip by. He shook his head and scrolled down. Carol’s name sat there at the top as his second most recent contact after Megan.

  “I guess I’m dining out tonight,” he said to the house, wondering if Miranda heard him.

  ***

  After another two hours, the northern train rumbled past. He saved the dictation and closed the recliner, struggling to his feet. The pain in his ankle h
ad stalled, not getting any worse, but not getting better yet. He took a painkiller and checked his phone.

  All quiet.

  Disappointed he wandered, half hopping down the hall to the bedroom.

  ***

  “Oh, hello! Back again!”

  The same hostess as before greeted Quinn at the door to the Nock Grill and Bakery. He only nodded.

  “No waiting tonight,” she said. She looked around him. “Still dining alone?”

  He felt the irritation bubbling in his head.

  “Yes,” he said in a controlled voice.

  The woman again put him right off, her overly made-up face, her abused and mistreated hair, her patronizing attitude, and the faint whiff of cigarette smoke did not help. He led her right back to nearly the same table, only a group of four people closeby, not even a third as many customers filling the place as had been the last time he was there.

  He stared right at the reflection of the shadow boxes in the kitchen, even though the day was still light enough outside to keep them from being easy to see. Beyond them, he saw the road to Lily’s neighborhood and briefly wondered if he should ride by. He checked his phone just as the waitress arrived. He set it on the table and glanced up to see Carol blushing and staring down at him with panicked eyes.

  “What can I get you tonight?” Her voice seemed to tremble.

  Inside he smirked. Outside he gazed at the menu, making a thinking face as he pondered the selection. He made his choice and smiled up at her as she scribbled everything down.

  He leaned in closer, catching her eye.

  “Please don’t worry, Carol. I’m only here to eat.”

  She closed her eyes a few seconds, blowing a long breath away. She turned and worked her way back to the kitchen. He watched her in the reflection. She ran around doing as all of them did, chopping, mixing, stirring, and walking around to speak to her husband. He saw no arguing tonight. No fighting. For a moment he wondered if he wasted his time.