by London Casey
Even still, it wasn't my business.
On my next day off I made two trips. The first was back to the home improvement store for more paint. I had picked out my color for the entrance and the hallway. Another brownish color that would work with the living room. But it was a very light brown. I figured if it was too dark it would make the stairs seem smaller. There was a small window halfway up the stairs that I loved so I wanted the light to come through and work with the walls, the light brown colored carpet and the wooden banister that ran up to where the wall started.
That was the easy part of my day out.
The hard part?
Visiting my grandmother.
I hadn’t been to her grave since she was laid to rest.
Walking through the cemetery was a reminder of what happens with time. It just keeps moving. And eventually we all fall to our knees before it. But it keeps moving.
I stood off to the side, looking at the beautiful memorial for her. A flat stone in the ground with a bright red rose in the center. Her favorite flower.
I didn’t speak a word. I just took it in. I let the memories flow free through my mind down to my heart and right back up. Tears filled my eyes. I forced myself to smile, hoping that if she was able to look down on me, she’d see me smiling. She’d know about my house. She’d know about my new job. She’d want to give me a nudge to finish some more of my writing. But I would give anything to hear her voice one more time.
And thinking that suddenly brought Jake back into my head.
I looked around the cemetery.
Was she here?
I shivered.
I put my hand to my mouth.
The thought sickened me. Being so young. Having a young daughter. Having a man like Jake…
I had to turn and close my eyes.
That was enough for one day.
I hurried to my car.
I sat there outside the iron cemetery gates, a sense of freedom washing over me. But knowing fate would eventually pull me back into the cemetery where I’d have my resting place. I could only wish and hope and keep the good vibes that it would be years away.
I had the sudden urge to write.
I always kept a notebook as my passenger.
The edge of the grass, kissing the gravel.
The trail leads forward but it never ends.
Long arms of the tree, the willow, beautifully weeping.
She sweeps her arms down, way down, to the ground, and pats those who are trying to understand.
Her best friend speeds by, invisible and silent, but she leaves her breeze in the distance, cascading, rolling like a horror movie fog.
She grabs the weeping willow’s arms and pulls them.
‘Here, comfort them all. Soothe them all. It’s going to be okay.’
We live in this bubble, we go round and round, sky to ground, ground to sky.
Yet we fall to our knees, slide our fingers into the grass, like our lover’s hair,
and we begin to weep… like the willow.
Like our heart needs to do.
Every,
once in a while.
I shut the notebook and didn’t reread it. I didn’t know if it was good, bad, messy, whatever. I just had a feeling of relief.
It was time to go home and start thinking about painting again. This time, I’d have no help. Carrie was working a four day rotation of twelve hour shifts. But her twelve hours as a nurse generally went at least sixteen hours.
The plan was to put on some music, have a few drinks, and paint. Maybe write a little. I’d eventually have to contact my editor and start talking about what should have been my next project. She was giving me time and space, which I appreciated. But I knew she was hoping I was grieving and writing lots of deep poetry.
Not quite the case.
So the plan was to be home. Stay home. Take in more of my new house and my life.
But that also meant taking in more of my new neighbor…
I heard the growling of a lawnmower. I spent almost an hour and barely had anything taped off around for the steps. Painting was not my thing at all. I should have just hired someone to do it.
Frustrated, I took a break.
Call me crazy but I loved the smell of fresh cut grass. I didn’t have allergies, which was a blessing. So I could stand there and smell it.
The second I opened my sliding back door I realized the sound was coming from Jake’s yard. I stepped outside anyway. Nothing would keep me from enjoying my house. No matter what he did. What he said. He was the one who kissed me. He was the one who would have to live with that. Not me.
Even though I wanted another kiss. Or more.
I walked to the railing and took a deep breath of the semi-warm air and the smell of the grass. I loved those weeks right before things got into summer mode. When everything was still freshly blooming and the excitement lingered in the air for summer.
Me? I was forever ready for fall. I was ready for October to come crashing down. Leaves changing. Cool breezes. Sitting outside bundled up in a hoodie with a blanket. Sipping coffee. A leaf falling down to the table. That’s what I was secretly waiting for.
Slowly, I turned my head and listened and watched as Jake came into view, pushing a lawnmower. What I didn’t expect was to see him without a shirt on. I felt my hands grab the railing tighter. I leaned forward and watched.
The little white fence out front was the same border that went down through the backyard separating my yard and Jake’s yard. Which meant there was nothing to block Jake from my eyes.
Tattoos on the back of his shoulders. A tattoo that went across his back, connecting the ink on his shoulders. But I wasn’t just looking at ink. No way. His back was ripped with muscle. These lines and cuts and chunks of muscle, sweating, glistening with the sun as it pounded on him, bringing more sweat. His jeans, low on his body, showing the line of his boxers. Such dumb little things yet it drove me insane. Kind of like the way his t-shirt hung from his left back pocket. I was thankful that the t-shirt was there instead of being on his body. I felt my right foot jumping, my body getting more excited than it should have been when you considered I was watching him and he didn’t know it. Then at the same time, I felt guilty. I felt weird. I was watching a man who was in some way still taken. Because whatever he had, it didn’t end because they didn’t want to be together. So that made it real. And that made me… wrong…
Jake made the turn at the end of his yard and was pushing the lawnmower back up, facing me. Now I had the privilege of seeing the front of his beautiful body. The fronts of his shoulders, giving way to thick arms, both arms filled with tattoos. Ink across his bare chest, his stare intent and forward, almost like a half dead stare, like he was a machine without any emotion.
I side stepped and watched him walk up the yard. He barely even turned his head, definitely not noticing me. Or maybe he knew I was there and just didn’t want to give me the time of day.
Which was fine.
I just didn’t want things to be weird between us.
Whatever happened that night was fine. It was over. It was done. It didn’t matter.
Jake disappeared for a minute or so as he went along the side of the house. He came back down the yard.
I told myself it was time to paint. Go back inside. Finish taping the trim. And paint. Stick to the plan.
Stick to the plan, Emily.
And I was going to.
I stepped back and started to turn.
That’s when I saw the back door to Jake’s house open. And out came Sadie, running at full speed. Her hair flying out behind her. She ran down the deck steps. Her hands were out and she was obviously screaming for Jake. She was crying. She was upset about something.
I hurried to the top of my steps. I put my hands to my mouth.
I was going to call for Jake.
He didn’t hear her. He couldn’t hear her with the lawnmower engine roaring.
And he didn’t see (or hear) Sadie until he made
the turn to start going back up the yard.
When Jake did see Sadie, he let the lawnmower go. The engine died right away. Sadie let out a cry. Jake fell to his knees to face his daughter. A second later he ripped his t-shirt out of his back pocket and wrestled to get it on over his sweating body.
His arms wrapped around Sadie and he hugged her.
That was the exact moment he finally looked at me.
Chapter Eleven
The Monster in the Kitchen
(Jake)
The grass needed to be cut a week ago. But time wasn’t all that friendly to me. So shit like that got pushed back. I was half lucky to make dinner four out of the seven nights a week for myself and Sadie. And if it weren’t for her, I’d probably just eat something you’d microwave for two minutes. But with her, I actually checked the labels, the ingredients, cared about the sugar and fat in foods. Stuff I never thought I’d give a shit about.
But even then, no matter how hard I fucking tried, there were times when shit just seemed to hit the fan.
I helped Sadie set up a tea party in her room. I told her exactly what I was going to do. I would be outside with the lawnmower. That if she needed to see me she could go to her window. That if she needed anything, to come get me. That the front door was locked and not to go near the door, even if the doorbell rang.
Truthfully, I should have just set her up on the deck but she wanted to play in her room.
So that was that.
I hurried outside, got the lawnmower, the damn thing started on the first pull, and I went to work.
(“Jake, why don’t you just get a riding one? It’ll be fun.”
“Ev, we’re not buying a farm. I can push a lawnmower.”
“You know the first time you complain or the thing doesn’t start I’m going to bring this up… just for the record.”
I grab her and kiss her forehead. “Then I hope it never starts.”
She laughs and hugs me.
Right there in a hardware store, picking out a lawnmower, hugging and kissing.
Fuck yeah, our love was everywhere and anywhere. That’s how real it could be.)
I made the first line through the grass and then took my shirt off. It was sunny, warmer than it was supposed to be for the time of the year, and I didn’t mind the sun.
After the second strip, I felt myself slip away for a bit. Focusing on the lines in the yard. Not that I had anyone to impress or share with. There wouldn’t be a cold beer waiting for me when I was done. I’d have to get it myself. There wouldn’t be a beautiful woman sitting in a chair, smiling, making innuendos about the sweat on my skin.
But there was my neighbor.
I caught her out of the corner of my eye, standing on her deck, looking over at me. I avoided eye contact and for good reason.
What the fuck happened with her… the table… the picture… me grabbing her for that kiss…
That was messed up. Big time messed up.
I didn’t know what came over me. Just being alone with someone. In that moment. Seeing that picture. Feeling something like a memory. Helping her. Sensing the new beginning of her life and whatever brought her to that house to buy. Being alone. Me alone.
I growled under my breath. I felt like stopping right there and turning to tell her to go the hell back inside. To go eye hump someone else. To go stand on her front porch. Or better yet, have some friends over and use her damn dining room table that I fixed.
I went along the side of the house and wiped my brow. I saw the back of my garage and the broken window from that night. The wrench had been quite a distance down the yard. I had a pretty impressive throw.
I made the turn and went back down the yard.
And Emily was still there, still outside, still on her deck.
I stared forward. I focused on the end of the yard. We had two really big trees. One maple. One some kind of apple tree that didn’t give apples worth eating. They were tiny, sort of red, and fucking annoying to deal with.
Everly loved that tree.
I wanted it cut down but couldn’t do it now.
A feeling of dread washed over me. I figured it was Emily watching me so I ignored it. It was a strange feeling. Like my insides were shaking a little. Like a little voice was screaming at me to turn around. But I continued to ignore it.
By the time I started to turn, Sadie was just a few feet away from me.
I was shocked for a split second. Then I saw the look of terror on her face. The tears running down her cheeks. I hated that look on her. She was far too beautiful to be afraid. Not to mention I’d seen that look before…
I let the lawnmower go and it turned off.
I dropped to my knees and Sadie was right there.
“Sadie,” I said. “What’s wrong, baby?”
She was shaking.
Damn you, Jake. Why the hell did you leave her inside alone?
“The monster… it was there… I yelled… I was screaming for you…”
“Oh, baby. The lawnmower is really loud. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.”
“I screamed so loud!” she yelled. “You weren’t there! I thought you went to visit the angels!”
I felt my heart crumble into ash.
I saved myself by reaching back for my shirt. I forced it over my head and fought it against my sweaty skin. I pulled Sadie close and hugged her. There was no talking. No explaining. No reasoning. Sadie deserved more than that. She deserved more than what I had given her.
All because I tried to cut the grass.
And Mickey had the nerve to suggest me going on a date once in a while… yeah fucking right…
I held Sadie tight. Her head rested on my shoulder. When she started to calm down I stood up. Her legs wrapped around me. She was terrified that she was going to lose me next.
I took a few deep breaths, reminding myself that I needed to be in complete control of myself to help Sadie get control of herself.
Slowly, I walked across the yard to the swing set. I crouched again, my knees popping, and made her stand in front of me.
“Why don’t you sit on the swing, baby?” I asked.
She nodded.
She jumped up on the yellow swing and clutched the chains.
I reached for her legs and pulled her, letting her go, letting her swing.
“How was the tea party?” I asked.
“Okay.”
“Just okay?”
“I know you said there’s no monster in the kitchen… but I heard a noise, Daddy. I jumped up. I thought it was Mommy coming back. From the angels. I ran from the room. Then I remembered… the kitchen. The monster…”
I gritted my teeth.
The whole angel thing was my fault. I fucked up when everything happened. What I told Sadie was…
“There’s no monster in the kitchen,” I said. “I swear to you. Sometimes houses make noises. It’s nothing. You should have stayed at your tea party.”
“But what if Mommy… if she was… Emily…”
I heard the name exit my daughter’s lips.
I did a double take.
“What?” I asked.
Sadie kicked off the swing and hurried by me.
I looked back and realized we weren’t alone anymore.
“Emily,” I said as I stood up.
“Jake,” Emily said. “Hey, Sadie.”
“Emily!” Sadie cried out and jumped at Emily.
I watched Emily hug my daughter and I wasn’t sure how it made me feel.
“Did you need something?” I asked.
“I bought these planters and I don’t like the color,” Emily said. “I was maybe hoping someone could help me paint them.”
“What?” I asked. I wiped my forehead. “You see I’m cutting grass here and you come over to ask me-”
“I was hoping Sadie could help,” Emily said.
She half smiled.
I didn’t want to admit the way it made my heart jump a little.
She was here to help. She
saw everything. She knows more than I want her to know…
“I can paint?” Sadie asked.
“Yeah. The messier the better,” Emily said.
“Can I paint a unicorn?”
“Of course,” Emily said.
Sadie looked back and up at me. “Daddy?”
“Have at it,” I said.
Sadie let out a happy cry. “I’m going to go get Bo so I can paint him!”
“Sadie,” I said.
She turned and took off.
“I think she meant paint a picture of him on the planter,” Emily said. “Not actually paint the stuffed animal.”
I looked at Emily.
I felt anger. I felt grief. I felt guilt. I felt… so much.
“Jake, I know,” she said. “I’ll bring the planters over here. I’ll sit on the top step of the deck. I saw her scared and I figured it was probably because she was calling for you. I…”
“That’s exactly what it was,” I said. “Kind of crazy sometimes, you know? When you have to fucking cut the grass but can’t even do that without a situation.”
“Well, I’m here.”
Emily reached for me.
I pulled away. “You’re here? You’re the fucking savior?”
“Whoa,” Emily said. “I’m just trying to help. Pay you back for the table.”
“The table,” I growled. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m not trying to do anything more, Jake. I mean, if you ever need help with her. Going to and from the center when I’m working. I’m a good driver. No tickets. No accidents, except that one in high school when I crashed my grandmother’s car into a snow bank when I was parking and couldn’t back out of the spot. Had to call a tow tru-”
“Do you really have things for Sadie to paint or did you just make that up?”
“I would never lie to Sadie,” Emily said.
“You know what I mean.”
“Fine. I made it up. But I couldn’t stand here and watch her cry. I was getting ready to paint and I came out because I like the smell of fresh cut grass so-”