by T. S. Joyce
I turned on the radio Caleb had left behind, and we got to work. The time passed a lot more quickly with the easy conversation Sadey provided, and by the time the sun hung halfway over the horizon, we had finished three sides of the house. The back was the only side left bare. We stood back and admired our work.
Sadey picked paint off her hands while she surveyed the improvement, and the corner of her mouth turned up in a satisfied grin. “Not too shabby, Fletcher.”
“I’d live here.”
Sadey snorted. “Please. You’d live in a rat hole and make it work for you.”
“Hey, a rat hole is a home, too.”
There was no comparison between the shack that had barely stood upright on my property three weeks ago and this house. It was no longer one and a half stories of moldy dilapidation. It was one and half stories of charming, invulnerable, homey abode. The front porch railings were whitewashed to match the house’s siding, and the window frames were painted in the dark blue of the shutters. We had even given the front door a fresh coat. By tomorrow evening, the outside would be completely painted and finished. A tension that had settled directly into the middle of my back eased at the thought.
Sadey interrupted the serenity. “You coming to the Founder’s Parade?”
“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I don’t think anyone would appreciate me ruining their fun.”
“I know someone who wouldn’t mind you being there,” Sadey said softly with her eyebrows arched.
“Who?”
“All I’m saying is Caleb is going to be in one of the floats. Well, not really a float. My brothers are riding with my dad in one of his fancy old cars.”
I scrunched up my nose. “Your family has its own float?”
“All of the founding ancestors do. The Smiths, the Kleinfelds. The Hudsons have no living relations, but the Whitakers, Samsons, and McCreedys are still holding strong.”
“Hmph,” I said amusedly. “I guess my invitation got lost in the mail.”
“Oh, my gosh. I totally forgot about the Fletchers. Whoa,” she breathed. “That’s so messed up.”
I shrugged. I couldn’t blame the town for excluding my family. Who wanted a float full of crazy people to ruin their parade?
“That settles it then. You are a founding ancestor. You should at least attend the parade.”
I sighed in resignation. “Opal did invite me to sit on the second floor balcony of the pie shop. She said I could invite a friend.”
“Fantastic. It’ll be the perfect perch to spy on cute boys.”
My boy-crazy friend and boss would be much more entertaining than any old parade. I looped an arm around her neck and leaned against her shoulder. “Come on into the shop before the parade. We’re locking the doors at five till. I’ll buy you a sandwich, and we can eat lunch while we watch.”
****
Caleb
The hunger gnawed at me like a buzzard on a bone. Pain from my healing injuries was a constant, buzzing background noise, but after the first six hours of straining work, the ache of hunger overpowered it. I needed to eat a lot more now that I’d been changed.
The boys were taking me to lunch for my glad-you-didn’t-die celebration. My boss had even given us an extra half hour so we could grab our grub in town. Unheard of before now, as a rig always kept rigorous hours, but hey, who was I to complain?
I popped a couple of pain meds into my mouth and downed them with a bottled water. The empty plastic container gave under the weight of my crushing hand. I didn’t have to squish it to oblivion, but for some reason it made me feel better.
“Where do you want to eat?” Reyes asked.
“Oh, it’s my choice, is it?” I pretended to think long and hard, but I already knew my answer. “I feel like trying somewhere new.”
The boys and I piled into my truck and headed into town. There were six of us, which meant six opinions on what kind of music we should blare through the speakers. Evan flopped through the back window and stood up in the bed as we drove through town, legs splayed and holding on for dear life to the sides of the cab. He whistled at any girl on two legs. A part of me wanted to jerk the truck to a stop and flip him over the hood, but with him being my brother and all, I thought it a little too harsh a punishment for idiocy.
I hadn’t been inside of the Main Street Pie & Candy Co., and I lifted my gaze to the diners relaxing on the second floor while they enjoyed their meal. If I could ignore the eye-maiming color of the outside, the place looked nice enough. Evan jumped out of the back of the truck and landed with a thud right in front of me.
“I know why Caleb picked this place,” he said, loud enough for the boys to hear. “The waitress in here is a hot little piece of ass.”
My blunt fingernails pressed into the skin of my palms as I imagined what it would feel like to put my knuckles through his teeth. If Evan knew anything at all, it was how to pick at a festering wound. And he did it for enjoyment.
Ignoring the guys and their obnoxious catcalls, I stepped around Evan. It was pointless to engage my brother. Years of arguing with him had taught me that.
I scanned the room for Mira as soon as we stepped inside and spotted her behind the counter. She had her hair pulled back. She wore a flour-covered apron and had an orange pencil tucked behind her ear. She looked thoughtful and polite and smiled shyly at old man Tucker as he put in his order.
“It’s your party, little brother.” Evan grinned at me with a predatory smile. “Why don’t you and the boys take a load off, and I’ll order us lunch. On me.”
The disappointment that soaked my resignation was as uncontrollable as my heartbeat. He knew he’d taken my chance to talk to Mira away, and the dumbass all but skipped to the register as the others shouted their orders. Evan leaned against the counter, dripping with ego, and Mira’s face fell when she saw it was him. I wished I could protect her from whatever utterly stupid thing Evan had said to draw her eyebrows down in anger.
“Hey, man. Have you heard anything we’ve been talking about?” Reyes asked.
I tore my eyes away from Mira and tried to pretend I hadn’t just spaced on every single word that had been said since we walked through the door.
“Dude, there’s Becca. Better run, McCreedy,” Jeff snorted. “She’ll have you married by nightfall.”
I saw the recognition light up Becca’s face as she saw us through the window, and I stifled a groan. It was too late to hide.
Becca came in and leaned into the chair behind me. “Can I talk to you?”
The boys made kissing sounds, but I ignored them. Instead, I nodded to Becca. I couldn’t be rude to the girl in front of everyone. The chair made a scuffling sound as I pushed it back, and I caught the surprised look on Mira’s face as I headed with Becca to the hallway for the bathroom.
“I was wondering if you would want to sit with me at the Founder’s Parade?” she asked, getting straight to the meat of it.
Relief flooded me. I had a legitimate excuse not to subject myself to that uncomfortable hour. “Sorry, but I’m in the parade. I have to get back to the guys. We have a short lunch.”
She grabbed my hand. “Please tell me you aren’t here for her.” Her whisper was pleading, and it grated on my last nerve. “I’ve been the only one to like you through all of your problems. I came to your mother’s funeral, not her. I still care about you, even after that bear ruined you.”
“Ruined me?” Sure, I felt ruined most days, but I never thought it was a deal-breaker for friends. Family. Girls. Apparently, I owed people who accepted me despite my marred skin. “Do my scars bother you that much?” I unbuttoned the top button of my old flannel work shirt, and when she looked around to make sure no one saw the red mark I had exposed, I undid another. And another. Her growing discomfort amused me.
“That’s quite enough,” she snapped as the last button was undone. “You’re going to embarrass both of us.”
She grabbed the flailing pieces of shirt and tried unsuccessfully
to put them back together. I didn’t help. I couldn’t take my eyes away from her shame-filled blush at how torn and ragged my chest was.
“Excuse me,” Mira said as she inched around us. “I just have to get to the bathroom.” Her voice shook, and I glanced down to see what Becca and I must have looked like to her.
“Mira, wait,” I rushed out, prying Becca’s hands away from my clothing.
“You don’t have to explain anything to me. It’s none of my business,” she clipped out softly before she disappeared into the restroom.
Chapter Sixteen
Mira
I hadn’t really needed to use the washroom. It was an excuse my fragile mind had made up to discover for myself the reasons Caleb had led Becca to the private hallway at the far end of the shop. Stupid mind and stupid excuses. I wish I could sear that vision of them together out of my brain for good. I’d do it with little remorse.
I splashed cold water across my face and patted it dry with a paper towel. A pale, shaken girl stared back at me through the mirror, and I turned my back in disgust. Weak. That man made me feel weak. Shoot a hundred and forty pound predatory grizzly with basically a water pistol and no fear of the consequences? No problem. See a nice boy canoodling with my arch nemesis? Crazy Mira falls to pieces. I chucked the paper towel into the trash bin like it had been the one to betray me. Caleb got to me. Didn’t mean he deserved to see how badly.
Opal gave me a steady gaze over the top of her glasses when I slipped back behind the counter. “Food’s ready for the big top. You mind taking it over to them?”
Caleb was staring at me. I could feel it so I didn’t venture to look their way. “Can’t we just call them up like we do with everyone else?” I whispered.
Opal arched her eyebrow. “If I’m not mistaken, I’d say there is a McCreedy or two at that table, and we need their shining endorsement. Now scat. You’re harshing my mellow with your cloud of emo lovesickness. Your aura looks awful.” She waved her hand in my direction like she was scattering fog and went back to slicing deli meat.
I opened my mouth with a ready denial but clicked my teeth back together again. She was right. I was full of emo-whatever-she-had-called-it. I shook my hands like coach was about to put me in the game and stretched my neck to the side until it popped. I could do this. They were just men. He was just a man. He was the man, but whatever. People had done far more difficult things. I mentally chanted those as I toted the giant tray of food over to their table.
Climbed Mount Everest.
Made a public speech.
Had more than fourteen seconds of conversation with Evan Dirty-Mouth McCreedy.
All much harder than I was about to do, really.
“Food’s ready.” My voice cracked, and I bit my lip when six pair of eyes swung my way. I could imagine the shade my face was turning.
Most of the boys kept talking, but Caleb had gone still and watchful. Evan moved gallantly out of the way so I could set the tray on their table.
“Evan,” Caleb warned, a half second before I felt a firm squeeze on my left butt cheek.
“Told you she was a hot piece of ass,” Evan sneered.
I gasped in shock as the force of his hand pushed me forward until I lay awkwardly on the table. I tried to right myself, but no one was looking at me anymore. Everyone’s attention was riveted to the flurry of fists and violent motion that were making their way to the door.
I watched the raw fury on Caleb’s face as he fought with Evan. Their friends herded them outside, but I could still see everything from my vantage point by the window. Caleb was beautiful. Vengeful. So graceful, he couldn’t pass as human. Potent. I couldn’t take my eyes off his agility as he pummeled his older brother with immoveable focus.
I had to stop them. This was over me, and I would never be able to live with myself if either really hurt each other.
I threw open the front door. “Stop! Stop them,” I pleaded with their friends.
They only stood back with half smiles. Two of them were taking bets.
I lurched forward and grabbed onto Caleb’s arm.
He saw enough of me that his tension eased, and he stepped back. His eyes were going to be impossible to hide if the gold in them kept spreading. “Mira—”
I saw it a split second before Caleb did. Evan wasn’t as good a fighter, but the man made up for it by fighting dirty. “Watch out,” I screamed just before his fist came flying in my direction.
Caleb yelled out. He pushed me behind him and took a hit directly to his face. Unbalanced and surprised by his strength, I fell backward into the crowd, the cement under me an unforgiving assailant.
“Hey,” one of their friends said in disapproval as they held Evan back. “Not cool, man.”
Caleb glanced back at me with worry etched into his bright eyes and blood trickling down his split lip.
“What do you care if I feel up the waitress, anyway,” Evan spat. “Is she your girlfriend? Huh? Do you want to date her? Tell me! Do you have any claim on Crazy Mira at all?”
The street grew quiet as Caleb’s shoulders hunched. I wished I could run away before the words left his lips. Caleb refused to look at me. “No,” he said softly.
I nodded my head slowly. Of course. Why would I have expected a different answer from him? His need for a solid reputation hadn’t changed since the last time we’d seen each other. Since the dinner with his father. Since ever. He was going to be someone. Maybe the biggest someone this sleepy little town had ever produced. I would be an anchor around his neck. Or if not me, the town’s idea of Crazy Mira would be the brick that dragged him beneath his potential.
The only thing that could have made the situation worse came to fruition when I looked down to see my apron had come loose and sagged to the side. My shirt was disheveled and one still emaciated and angrily scarred hipbone stuck out for all to see.
“Freak,” I heard someone murmur from the crowd.
My feet couldn’t move fast enough as I scrambled for the safety of the pie shop. I sought my refuge in the inventory room.
Eventually, Opal ambled in and leaned against the doorframe to the tiny room. “You want to talk about it?”
My arms rested on my knees and my head on those. I shook my head slightly. My eyes were dry. I just didn’t want to face the world quite yet.
“I’ll be with you in a moment,” she told a customer. Sitting beside me, she patted my arm. “At least tell me where you got the scars, Mira. That stuff is no good all bottled up. Tell one person and get it out of you. You can never move on if you keep that kind of darkness inside.”
I couldn’t bring myself to utter the words. Time dragged on, and I found the admission more and more difficult. When Opal stood to leave, I rushed the words, “I got them from being hungry.”
Opal leaned her back against a row of shelves and waited.
“When I was so hungry I thought I would die, I had trouble getting around. I ran into things. Table. Bathroom sink. Dresser. Everything was right at the height of my hips. My bones stuck out so much and my skin was thin as rice paper. When I hit something, it would split me open, and I was too young to know how to stitch myself up yet.”
Opal didn’t offer advice or make sympathetic mewling sounds. She listened quietly with her hands clasped in front of her. “Go on home. Your shift is almost over, anyway, and the lunch rush has died down.”
I stood and rubbed my sore bum.
“And Mira?”
I turned.
“The next time a man squeezes your ass without permission, lay him out. You understand?”
I laughed shakily. “Wouldn’t that be bad for business?”
“Like hiring the town witch with a punch-happy throng of admirers following her around?”
I untied my apron and hung it on the hook. “Fair enough. Lay them out. Got it.”
Opal sent me home with two sandwiches. I tried to refuse on account I didn’t work the full day and hadn’t earned either of them. She said my scars
earned them for me. I could have sworn I saw her wipe moisture away from her eyes when she came out of the inventory room, but I’ve been known to be wrong before.
The oil workers had taken their lunch to go and headed back to the rig before I left the pie shop. Thank goodness for small blessings. If I never saw Evan McCreedy again for the rest of my life, it would be too soon. And Caleb? Well, I couldn’t see the man soon enough but stilled my traitorous heart. I would just have to get used to the ache as I had done with everything else in my life.
****
“T minus five minutes and counting until the first float hits Main Street,” Opal yelled over the street noise outside. “You girls lock up, and I’ll take our food upstairs.”
“You got it Ms. Opal,” Sadey said. She snatched the keys from me and raced to the front door. “I win.”
I rolled my eyes and tried not to smile. “Fine, race to the top floor.” Even if she wasn’t fumbling with the lock, I was much closer to the stairs and at an advantage.
“Cheater,” she accused when she plopped down beside me at the table in the very middle of the balcony.
Opal was already divvying up our lunch, and the raucous crowd below was enough to provide plenty of entertainment for a curious people-watcher like myself. The whole town had shown up. I don’t know why I was surprised. Everybody knew everybody, and this was the social event of the season. How much I had missed while sitting in my lonely tower on Dark Corner Road.
Sadey opened wide to shove a huge bite into her mouth in a very anaconda-like fashion but stopped mid-strike. “Caleb is on the seventh float.”
I squinted at her as she delved into her ham and Swiss on rye. “Why would you think I need to know that?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Opal said. “Is Caleb the boy from the other day? Fists of fury?”
Sadey gulped. It was a miracle she didn’t choke. “Sure is. I heard about the whole thing not ten minutes after it happened. Pretty sure the whole town did. I tried to call Caleb and get details, but he said he didn’t want to talk about it and hung up on me. Lame. So then I thought about calling Evan, but you really can’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth, so I called Caleb’s friend, Joseph Reyes, instead, and he told me everything. Well, as much as he could tell me while riding in the bed of Caleb’s pickup truck going sixty.”