River's Winter

by Leanne Davis

  Luna let out a laugh that broke the terrible tension that was gripping her. “Yes. It was. I didn’t know if it was just me. It’s probably wrong that we should feel so relieved to get out of there, but that’s all I could think of. How will we manage to endure six more of them?”

  He sighed. “Get drunk first?”

  She laughed out loud. “I got some good pain pills the hospital sent home with me,” she joked. But his face went instantly cool.

  “No. I’ll deal with this and stay stone-cold sober. You should too. It’s a mistake when you use chemical substances to ease the pain when you’re still so raw and hurting. People feel broken and confused when they turn to artificial substances to cope.”

  Her eyebrows jerked up in surprise. Wow. That was intense. Red flags. What was he saying?

  “Yeah, I suppose. It’s just so hard sometimes. I could not bear watching that family’s grief. And the entire town was stunned. Everyone feels unsafe now. And since it happened at my place of business…”

  “A place that has been the focal point of this town for over a hundred years. You can’t think it’s on you, but do you? You crawled toward the gunman. No one has anything but exalted praise for you. Luna… You must know that.” His voice dropped and caressed her with its earnest tone. He tilted his head toward her and gave her a long look before turning back to the road.

  She gazed out the window. “How do I go back there again? I have to, right? How do I ever go into that damn place again? Let alone try to work in it. Hardest of all, I can’t imagine opening it for business. How can I allow trusting people to walk inside with no guarantee they will walk out again? I feel like dodging the bullets all the time, and I’m constantly anticipating that someone, anyone will walk in and open fire on me.”

  He was silent for a few miles. Then he said, “I think it’s normal. It’s called PTSD.”

  “I—it’s not that. I’m sure I don’t have that.” Her denial died on her lips.

  “I looked around the church and every survivor I saw seemed as surprised and stricken as you are. Grief has its own way of making people feel confused. I think we all have it to a degree. Fear of the unknown. Seeing a bloodbath massacre in the most mundane and ordinary of places? It’s a unique kind of trauma. So, yes, I think we all have PTSD. And don’t forget, this is the first time you’ve been out in public since it happened.”

  “I know,” she muttered, turning her gaze away and staring out the passenger window. She feared he’d see the terror in her eyes, which his words provoked.

  “But I can’t keep indulging the fear. I must get back to work. I’m losing money each day I remain closed. Most of the food will be spoiled. And I owe it to the staff. What about them? They all called me right away in solidarity, but it’s not like anyone is wealthy enough not to work. They need to get paid but their money comes from running a steady, profitable business. I dumped a lot of my own money into it too. I’m not—”

  Anxiety again started to engulf her. She leaned forward and buried her head in her hands. Shaking her head, she mumbled, “Meanwhile, I can’t ignore my own concerns and pain long enough to do anyone else any good. I should be a strong leader. The one with all the answers and a plan but all I can do is just sit in a chair, and stare at the café. I feel totally inept. Inert. Like a loser. I lost my business. Now I’m lost. I don’t know what to do, Jacob.”

  “None of us do. That is what I am trying to explain. No one knows. Even if no one else has the burden of owning that place like you do. Let me make some phone calls and we’ll work something out. I swear. You won’t have to deal with all of these issues alone.”

  She stared at his profile. His jaw was clenched tightly in obvious seriousness. He meant every word he said to her. “You can’t know how much you’re helping me. You really are the only hero in all of this.”

  “If I can help you or anyone else move on, it might be the first time in my worthless life. It’s a debt I need to pay. Don’t thank me anymore. I was there. I experienced it too.”

  They pulled into her driveway and Jacob didn’t hesitate but got right out and came around to her side. She wondered at how easily she trusted Jacob. It wasn’t how she usually was. She was friendly enough, sure, but rarely could she trust a man so quickly. Few people were allowed into her inner sanctum, but Jacob was one of them now.

  They entered her house, and she felt the dull quiet that pervaded the atmosphere. She couldn’t shake off the negative feelings. She kept asking herself why she was bothering to do anything when all of it could end at any moment? That lingering anxiety never plagued her until now. Not only that, but her foot hurt all the time. The constant ache did nothing to put her already dark thoughts right into the front of her brain. The cast was awkward, heavy, and cumbersome, which was very annoying. It was enough to drive her insane even without her morbid thoughts.

  The day was already growing dark and snowing. Up until now, the novelty of the snowfall only made her feel cozier and glad she lived in her small house. Now it seemed much darker, and the long nights were endless. The dark lasted forever.

  She hobbled toward the window but needed to sit down and elevate her leg. She longed to close her eyes and sleep if only to alleviate the pounding in her head. She tried to stop thinking so much so her stinging tears would dry up and her swollen eyes could recover.

  “I promise you this will all turn out okay.” Jacob’s calm voice filled her head. She couldn’t believe him though. She wouldn’t believe him, and she of all people, knew that. Jacob wished his promise would prove true, but he witnessed the tragic scene as clearly as she did.

  Shaking her head, tears dripped off her chin as more came. She kept her head turned from Jacob. “You can’t promise that. God. We just attended the first funeral. Today’s event dispels that very idea. Don’t pretend with me. Don’t give me empty platitudes. You are the only one who knows not to!” She sucked in air as if trying to elevate her courage to match her breathing. She felt strangled and cut off, and her breathing grew much more rapid, like that of a landed trout. She had to force herself to take long breaths of air to prevent her dizziness from taking effect. Her temples and her eyes were aching.

  “I don’t mean to do that. Maybe trying to make you feel better is the only thing that keeps me from my own memories.”

  “I can’t solve it for you forever. Eventually, you’ll have to deal with it too.”

  “I am. It just helps a lot to…”

  “Recite senseless platitudes,” she snapped.

  He stepped closer, holding her gaze as he reached out to push the thick strands of hair off her shoulder. “Yes. It comforts me if I believe them. That’s how I deal with it.”

  “Through me?”

  “Well, when left on my own, I don’t always handle myself too well.”

  She rubbed her arms, to stave off the chills she suddenly felt. Every time she remembered the shooting, she relived it. Goosebumps rose all over her skin and chilled her blood and bones.

  He continued, “I struggled recently with depression and anxiety. I only came home after I could deal with everyday life without falling back into either condition. Now this happened. Perfect timing. Just as I was regaining my balance. I can only feel a sense of calm detachment when I’m with you and it never happens when I’m alone. I don’t understand the reason why. But it is real, and I am just admitting it now to you.”

  She hobbled over and flopped down beside him. “It’s due to the horrible circumstances. We only came together after we both saw and heard the chaos and terror. We witnessed the same grisly scene, and now we feel united by having the same reaction. Our connection is based entirely on the circumstances and the setting in which we were caught. It’s very fragile.”

  “That doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Or that it won’t last in the long term. I read that tomorrow there are two life celebrations planned. One at noon and one at four. Would you like to go with me?”

  She sighed. “A year ago, I would have called tha
t a date. But yes, of course, I’ll go with you. I prefer not to go alone to attend the funerals of our fallen citizens. I’m actually a little bit scared to go as well.”

  “I am too,” he admitted softly.

  “I wish you were asking me… I don’t know… to go snowboarding off the backside of the mountain or cliff-jumping.”

  “Do you snowboard?”

  “I do, actually. And I kick ass at it to be honest.”

  He laughed. A foreign, rusty sound to her ears. “Well, I snow ski.”

  “Ugh.” She wrinkled her nose. “I would love to see that.”

  “I’d like to race you sometime, so you could appreciate all my grace and dignity going down the hill.”

  “Oh, hell no. I’ll beat you. Let’s do it, Jacob Starr. Once this foot is all healed, you better watch your back.”

  He nodded, smiling until their eyes met. His smile slowly faded, but they kept staring at each other. “I’m holding you to that,” he said and again, as earlier, he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. It was a slow, purposeful movement. Her gaze followed his hand before meeting his eyes. His face was hovering right above hers and she licked her lips. His eyelids twitched, and he looked down, watching her delicious, pink tongue. “I need a new challenge to look forward to right now.”

  Her skin felt prickly under the heat of his gaze and the closeness of his body. Confused by the warm, tingly feelings, she gulped and tried to swallow the strange nerves electrifying her spine. “And that’s it? The new challenge you look forward to? A race with me?”

  “A race in which I will show you that snow skiing is way better than snowboarding? Oh, hell yeah.” He broke the lingering depth of their eyes when he looked away. “But until then, I think the café will be your next challenge. It will help your anxiety if you take some control and start making some decisions about the future of your business.”

  “Okay. Thank you. I’m not sure I could have faced that or today without a good pep talk. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  He reached out and flicked her nose like a brother might do to a sister. But it didn’t alleviate the piercing, heavy weight of his eyes, which remained fastened on her. “Me neither. In ways you’ll never know.”

  ****

  Days later Jacob swung by his sister’s place. It was slightly back from the main road with a spacious yard, and large, old shade trees. The snow had been shoveled off the pathways. He knocked loudly. Brianna kept an office in Pattinson, but her car was parked out front, so Jacob hoped she was working from home today. She answered the door with a big smile and a hug. They tended to be extra hard and long since the shooting. Everyone was prepared to watch him turn to drugs in all the mayhem and chaos.

  “You look stressed. Are you okay?”

  Brianna stared at his face from one angle and another, as a mother might when checking her child for any signs of illness. He rolled his eyes, removing his face from her scrutiny. “Yes. I’m fine. Actually, I’m probably doing better than I’ve ever done in my adult life. The shooting really smacked me in the face like a wet fish. It put things into perspective, something I’ve never had before. I knew in that one critical second, I wasn’t ready to die. I didn’t want to take one of those bullets home with me. That didn’t happen even one of the times that I overdosed—”

  “One of the times? I thought it was just one time?”

  “Well… no, I told you about the worst time. I actually OD’d three times. The other times were when I was with other people who took me to the emergency room for help.”

  With an odd squeak, Brianna used her hand to brace herself against the counter. “Okay, maybe I’m glad I never knew all the details. Go ahead, please continue.”

  “Well, the thing is, Luna is struggling now. She has to return to the café and do something with it. Even if she decides to sell it. Right now, she’s anticipating nothing but trouble and problems. She keeps asking me, who would want to buy it or even eat there now? Who would come back? But she shouldn’t lose her business over this. She is about my age and just like you about running her own business. Anyway, I want to help her, and I need your advice.”

  Brianna leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. She nodded and replied, “You must care about her.”

  “I do. We went through a lot really fast and it bonded us. Totally out of character for me. Anyway, she keeps having panic attacks. She can’t sleep, and she relives the shooting all the time. It’s changed her whole perception of life. I think she’s finding it hard to believe that this can actually happen. I have to admit, it feels like that to me to.”

  “And you think you can help her somehow?”

  “She hired a professional crew to clean the café after the investigation was all wrapped up. But I went inside—”

  “How did you manage to do that?”

  He glanced away, almost in shame, like he didn’t want to admit what he did. “Well, I kind of took her café keys. She isn’t using them. Not anytime soon. She’s a mess. I just want to help her get through it.”

  “So you took her keys? Have you thought being there is enough right now? Not manipulating her or lying to her.”

  “Please, just listen before you dispense the advice.”

  She waved at him in an irritated way. “What then?”

  “I want to fix the place up. You know, make it look the way it was before the shooting. Do you remember anything about it? I want to fix the walls where all the shots lodged and take out anything that was broken or damaged, get rid of all the debris, at least as much as possible. Then, when she does decide to go back, she could at least have a new image for the place. She bought it only because she wanted to live a new life.”

  “Oh. Wow. Yeah, that might be worth the small lie of omission and stealing her keys.”

  “I can do most of it, but I need some help with all the little details. Do you remember how she had it before?”

  “Yeah, I think so, more or less. I could probably help you replicate it.” She shifted off the counter. “Of course, I’ll help you, Jacob. And I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

  “Thank you, Bri.”

  They shared a tentative smile, something they hadn’t done in years.

  “Let me change my clothes,” she said, walking around him.

  “Wait? Right now? You want to start this right now?”

  “Never a better time than the present.” Brianna disappeared, and Jacob could only grin after her. That was why he came to her; he knew Brianna could get anything done. He wanted so many things to happen right now but not for himself. For someone else. Someone much more deserving of it.

  Someone he liked calling his friend.

  Chapter Twelve

  JACOB AND BRIANNA LEFT, pulling into the café parking lot since Jacob assumed Luna wouldn’t recognize his sister’s car. Plenty of looky-loos had frequented the café parking lot during the past week.

  He quickly went to the front door and looked right and left before clicking the lock, taking a deep breath, and opening the door to step inside. It was lit only from the windows. None of the slaughter remained, but everything was still a train wreck. The cleaning crew had moved most of the tables and chairs, and only a few knick-knacks were left untouched. He sucked in a breath as he glanced around.

  Brianna came over to him and touched his arm. “Hard to see?”

  “Yes. But when I remind myself that this is for Luna, it helps more than anything else. I can face it if it’s for her, if it might help her. And right now, I really need to help someone besides myself.”

  Wearing grubby clothes and sneakers, Brianna took her coat off, pushed up her sleeves and said, “Well, what are you waiting for then? Let’s get started.”

  And just like that, they set to work. Jacob worried that Luna might call the police or hobble in there herself to see who turned the lights on in her café. But she didn’t, and no law enforcement officers showed up either. The first time they entered the door to the kitchen, they
both stopped dead. It was eerie and unnerving. The kitchen was not involved, however, so there was no blood splattered in it, and the cleaners never touched it. The cook and dishwasher ran away during the first few moments of the shooting and neither ever came back. Fortunately, it hadn’t burned down from an oven or burner that was accidentally left on. The crew just walked away with dirty dishes in the sink, crusty pans on the stove top, and left all the French fries and meats out to get spoiled and rotten. There was a loaf of bread as hard as a rock on the counter after being cut into several days ago.

  Brianna gulped. “Wow, this illustrates the suddenness of the whole situation. Everyone left everything exactly where it lay.”

  “Yeah, they probably ran out the back door and never even knew what happened. Lucky bastards.”

  They cleaned up and tidied everything they could. Jacob removed all the debris, and they reluctantly had to throw a lot of Luna’s inventory away. They wiped out all the refrigerators and tossed any spoiled items, scouring the entire kitchen from top to bottom. Brianna found fresh linens to replace all the old ones. Brianna set each table with freshly pressed tablecloths and immaculately clean flatware.

  The second night, Jacob was surprised to see his mother and Joey come in. Happy at their unannounced arrival, he rose up from where he squatted. He was trying to sand a huge scratch left in the hardwood floor that came from one of the table legs scraping it when it fell over. It happened when a dead body fell on top of it, but each time Jacob’s mind went there, he mentally banished the subject from his mind.

  Jacob tossed the scrap of sandpaper and hugged his mom. He and Joey exchanged some poignant looks. But they were not glaring anymore, which was huge for them.

  “Where is Silas?”

  “Café’s not quite ready for him to be here yet. He’s with Jack.”

  “Yeah. I agree. Just wondering,” Jacob said, aware of Joey bristling at his inquiry. “Why are you here?”

  “To help you of course. Can we?”