Her Tie-Dyed Heart

by Sarita Leone

  The only sound was the huge choking noise Big Al made as he covered his eyes and turned away. Tears streamed down many cheeks as no one spoke for a long moment.

  Steve brushed a rough hand across his face. Annie saw the agony is his eyes, but to his credit when he spoke his voice was strong.

  “Ronnie was my best friend. But that is how he made everyone feel—like they were his best friend. We knew each other since…hell, since we were in diapers, practically.”

  A few low chuckles broke the silence.

  Steve pressed on. He managed a shaky smile, waving his bottle of Budweiser as he spoke.

  “Yeah, that’s a long time to be friends. So, I guess that while Ronnie was everyone’s best friend, me included…it was more between us. We were—hell, we were brothers. We did everything together, the way brothers would. We threw spitballs in sixth grade—and got detention together.” Another round of low laughter. “We ran laps around the football field together—in full gear because we couldn’t be quiet when Coach McMinn gave us drill instructions. Yeah, we were badasses. We learned to drive motorcycles together. How to buff out fender scratches on Ronnie’s dad’s Chevy after we kissed a tree coming home half in the bag from some party in Bar Harbor.”

  Steve paused. He took a long pull from the bottle. It had been full when he began to speak. Now it was half empty.

  “Yeah, Ronnie was the guy, wasn’t he? The real deal. No bullshit about him, man. You know, when he went off to basic training, I was so damn jealous. It was the first time in our lives that we didn’t get to go to the game together. The first damn time…I was so pissed at him before he left, so pissed that he was going and I had to stay.”

  Steve took another pull from the beer. Then, he looked up, meeting the gazes of those watching him. His eyes found hers, and for a minute Annie thought her heart stopped beating. Then his gaze moved, and she still felt as if she wasn’t breathing.

  Finally, Steve lifted his bottle, holding it high.

  “You know what Ronnie said when I bitched about not being able to go to ’Nam with him? He said, ‘Don’t sweat it, man. Life ain’t about any one game. This one, it’s gonna be a shitty deal. I’m just going to do what I have to do so I can come home to the Cove. So don’t sweat it…I’ll be home soon.’”

  Steve paused. She saw him struggle for composure. Agony to watch helplessly.

  He looked around the room, then raised his bottle to the ceiling.

  “Well, Ronnie’s coming home. And we welcome him—so Ronnie this one’s for you, man. We love you…and our arms are open wide, waiting on your homecoming from this shitty, shitty game. Welcome home, brother!”

  The crowd echoed Steve’s welcome to the dead soldier. Bottles clinked and were drained. Steve emptied his, then set it upside down on the bar. Many followed his lead, filling the copper-topped bar with empties.

  Annie finished her beer. She didn’t upend the bottle before she left. She couldn’t.

  She didn’t think anyone noticed as she slipped out the side door. She was glad no one saw. Explaining that her tears weren’t for Ronnie but his best friend was something she didn’t want to do.

  ****

  When Annie’s eyes opened, they were met with darkness. She lay still in the bed, wondering why she was suddenly awake.

  Sirens. Lobster Cove’s firehouse was in the center of town. She had seen the red brick building but had never heard its sirens.

  She sat straight up, then jumped out of bed. Too worn out when she’d gotten home, just hours earlier, she’d climbed into bed without bothering to put on pajamas. She grabbed a t-shirt and shorts from the basket of clean clothes near her dresser and ran from the room, pulling the clothes on as she went.

  Clarisse, tugging a seersucker robe on over her nightgown, was already on the landing.

  “I smell the smoke, so it can’t be far,” Clarisse said.

  “Where, do you think?” Annie zipped her shorts as she took the steps two at a time. She went for the closest window. A red haze hung over the area near the water.

  “Thank God—it’s not near the kids.”

  Clarisse stood beside her. “No, I didn’t think it was. The smoke is too close for that.”

  “I’m going to see if I can help.”

  “Annie, be careful. I’ll stay here in case anyone calls. I don’t want Sienna to phone home and not find either of us.”

  She hugged Clarisse before heading out the back door. “Thanks. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Be careful!”

  Annie ran through the yard, cut across the neighbor’s yard, and made Main Street in record time. As she ran, she prayed the store wasn’t burning. Relief made breathing less difficult when she saw it was fine.

  But horror hit her in a wave that made her stagger when she saw The Shack. Glass exploded from windows as fire emerged, licking its way across wooden surfaces. Black smoke billowed in the air.

  The fire crew was already on the scene. Hoses wound across the pavement from hydrants. Orders shouted from one man to another had a tinge of desperation to them. Just watching the building with the other townspeople who had gathered, Annie’s untrained eye saw it was a futile attempt.

  The Shack was being consumed. No doubt the last person to attend the memorial had left just a short time ago. What had just been the site of fond memories and shared laughter was now making its way into the local history books.

  No one spoke as they watched. There were no words to say, nothing to ease the impact of the angry fire.

  Annie heard Steve’s Harley. He spat gravel as he stopped beside the biggest fire truck, kicked the stand into place, and leaped off the bike. He ran to the closest fireman, grabbed his arm, and pointed to the building.

  Steve still wore the outfit he’d worn to the memorial. That meant he hadn’t gone home too long ago. He didn’t look as if he’d been sleeping, so either he went somewhere else after Ronnie’s gathering or he’d just left The Shack. She would put her money on the second option.

  She ran forward, not caring what anyone—Steve included—thought. Grabbing his arm, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Steve met her gaze as the firefighter yelled to his chief.

  “We got a man inside!”

  “Big Al—he’s in there.” Steve met her gaze for an instant before he pulled her against him so roughly her feet left the ground. “I’m sorry,” he growled into her ear just a heartbeat before he smashed his mouth against hers. The kiss was hard and fast, and left her breathless.

  He pulled away and ran toward the building, avoiding the tangle of hoses snaking everywhere and ignoring the men who tried—unsuccessfully—to grab him.

  The front door crashed inward as Steve put his shoulder against it, hitting it full force. Flames shot out but he ducked beneath them, entering with his hands outstretched and in a semi-crouching position.

  “He’s crazy! He’s gonna get himself killed!” The firefighter beside her yelled to no one in particular. He trained his hose on the entrance, putting out the flames that obscured the view into the bar.

  Men moved forward in a yellow line, their slickers and fire hats glistening beneath the spray from the hoses. The chief yelled commands. He grabbed one firefighter who tried to follow Steve into the inferno, sending the man back to the yellow line.

  “No one goes in!” The chief ordered. “Not until we knock it down some!”

  Efforts intensified as the minutes crawled by. No sign of Steve. No sign of Big Al.

  The far corner of the roof exploded, sending burning tiles flying through the air. Flames shot out the hole. The place looked and smelled the way Annie imagined hell must.

  When she thought she couldn’t stand one more minute of waiting, one of the firemen hollered, pointing to the building’s interior.

  “There he is!”

  Two men stepped out of line and ran toward the building.

  Steve stumbled out the front door carrying Big Al on his back. The firemen grabbed Big Al, carrying the
unconscious man between them.

  Another firefighter grabbed for Steve, but he waved him off. He bent from the waist, coughing hard. Annie wound her way past the yellow backs of the men fighting the fire and would have gone to Steve if one man hadn’t caught her as she passed.

  “Stay back—you can’t go close to the fire! That building’s gonna fall any minute now! Stay back!”

  Just then Steve looked up. He straightened and walked over to her.

  She fell into his arms, and let him push her through the line of men just as the walls behind them fell. The crash was deafening. The building squealed like an animal in pain as the fire consumed it.

  Annie didn’t care what happened to The Shack. She didn’t care what happened to anything—the only arms she cared to be in were around her.

  Steve was sweat-soaked and sooty. She wrapped her arms around him, pressed her face to his chest, listened to his heart beat and said a prayer of thanks.

  Finally, she looked up into his face. Tears streamed down her cheeks but for the first time in a long time, they were tears of joy rather than sadness.

  “You’re a hero.”

  “Nah, I’m—” The words were a hoarse croak that brought on a fresh wave of coughing.

  Annie waited. When he caught his breath, she shook her head.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit, Steve. You’re a hero—you saved Big Al. You risked your life for another. That’s the definition of a hero—in case you didn’t know.”

  He took a deep breath. “I knew he couldn’t get out. He passed out, so I put him on a sofa in the back room to sleep it off. I don’t know what happened—the place was empty when I left but who knows…probably a cigarette still burning after the lights went off. Something in the trash, maybe…Al always worried about that…”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re okay. Big Al’s okay. Life goes on—what did Ronnie say? Don’t sweat the small stuff?” Annie waved her hand at the fire behind him without bothering to take her gaze off the man in front of her. “In the big picture, this is all small stuff. It’s the people in our lives who matter—not the rest of this.”

  He closed his eyes and hung his head. Took a deep breath. Then, looked up at her. His eyes were bright when he met her gaze.

  “Annie, I’ve been an ass. I’m sorry, for so much I can’t even begin to list everything.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t have to list anything. That’s not what love is—a scorecard.”

  A slow grin crossed his face. “Did you hear what you said?”

  “I heard,” she whispered.

  “I love you, Annie. And I’m thinking—after hearing about the scorecard and all—that you might feel the same way toward me.”

  She listened to her heart.

  “I do.”

  A fireman came up to them and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

  “Listen, man, you’ve got to get checked out. The ambulance is ready to take you to the hospital so let’s―”

  Steve shook him off. He bent low, put one arm under Annie’s knees and the other behind her shoulders. He lifted her, holding her close against his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

  With a grin meant only for her, he answered the man beside them without taking his gaze from hers.

  “No can do, man. This beautiful lady just said the two words every man waits to hear, so I’ve got to find a preacher. Or a justice of the peace. Or someone. But hey, I can’t go to the hospital, thanks anyway.”

  Steve started to walk away.

  “What’d she say, man?” The fireman called. “What’d she say?”

  Steve kissed her, a fast kiss that promised more to come.

  “She said ‘I do’—and I’m not going to let her forget it!”

  “No chance.” Annie laid her cheek against his chest. “No chance at all, my love.”

  A word about the author...

  Sarita Leone loves adventure, whether it be in a distant continent or her own backyard. When she’s not off exploring the world, she keeps busy writing, reading, and dancing beneath the stars. Always a fan of happy endings, she’s fortunate to have a job which allows for so many of those! She loves to hear from readers. Easiest way to connect? Check out her Facebook page, where all the latest news hits the screen.

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.