Up the Chimney

by Vonnie Davis

  Gabby sat at the picture window, watching, waiting. Poor cat was probably tired of the dry food in her automatic feeder. She was overdue for a can of salmon and a couple treats.

  The more Ciera cried, the thicker her tears froze to her face. She could see their accumulation beneath her eyes. So what would it be? Stomp through knee-deep snow to get inside to put on snow boots or get in her car and try her best to get backed into her driveway far enough so she wouldn’t block any potential traffic?

  A few more sobs racked her body as she eyed her front door. Dry boots made the most sense. Her fear was once she got inside with her snuggle cat, she’d never come back out. That thought made the decision for her. She limped to her Land Rover.

  She started the ignition and pulled forward in the tracks she’d shoveled. Then she shifted to reverse and on a prayer backed towards her driveway. She figured she’d just cleared the sidewalk when she was stuck again, but her car was off the street. A sigh of relief escaped. She opened the door and fell out on her hands and knees.

  Once inside, she struggled out of her wet clothes and into her tattered terrycloth robe, heavy socks, and puppy dog slippers. Gabby was on her lap, rubbing her chin and purring. By now, the frozen tears on her face had melted and her stomach growled. She shuffled through the house, holding Gabby in her arms and resetting clocks. Evidently her power had been out for about two hours. Once in the kitchen, she opened a can of salmon and dumped it in Gabby’s bowl and made two packs of instant oatmeal for herself. Feeling was returning to her fingers, feet, and lower legs. It was a painful process—just like life.

  A few spoonsful of oatmeal later, she’d accepted the pregnancy possibility was her fault. Not his. She’d been the one to wake him up and insist on sex. Had she given him time to wake up enough to realize what was going on, he’d have reached for a condom. Two more had fallen out of his dirty jeans when she’d shaken them looking for a second empty packet. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t prepared for more sex. What he hadn’t been prepared for was a greedy, needy woman waking him out of a sound sleep.

  She’d take the blame for that mistake.

  The pain-filled farce this morning was all his doing, though.

  What man talks to one woman the way he did to Jenna with the long hair in the presence of a woman he’d held naked in his arms all night? Did the man have no feelings?

  She washed what few dishes she’d made dirty and pulled two packages of hamburger and one of ground sausage from the freezer to thaw before she trumped to the bathroom. While the water ran, she toed off her bedroom slippers and turned on her phone. Three missed calls from Mason. She slipped off her robe and Gabby nested in it. There were four texts:

  Answer ur damn phone!

  “Yeah, lots of luck with that order, bucko.” She replied to the text as if he could hear her.

  Dammit Ciera, where’s all my toilet paper?

  “Check your freezer, hot-ass.”

  Where the hell is my TV remote?

  “Try your underwear drawer, douchebag.”

  Lovesick cop here. Call me. Please, sweetheart.

  Okay, she needed to respond to this text. What did a woman with hurt feelings say to a man who thought he could easily earn her forgiveness?

  Lied-to-woman here. My cow froze to death so I don’t need ur bull. Use ur list of nicknames on all ur other women. Erase me from the bottom of that list.

  Was that too bitchy? She tilted her head to the side and studied the text. After this morning? Nah. She hit send and turned off her phone again.

  Rose fragrance from her bubble bath greeted her when she and all of her tired muscles sank into the tub’s warmth. Her eyes closed. What was she going to do about Mason? They worked almost side-by-side. Yet, she knew that going into their one-night stand. She was a grown woman who’d faced worse. Somehow she’d gather the emotional strength to handle this, too.

  She looked at Gabby, curled in her spot in the bathroom sink, her white paws curled over the edge and her adoring cat-like gaze focused on her. “I was a fool, Gabby.” Her cat meowed in response. “I was, snuggle cat. A damn, needy, horny fool.”

  ****

  Mason stared at Ciera’s text. He’d really hurt her. He flopped onto the sofa, his head on the pile of folded quilts, his gaze focused on the lone condom wrapper. When he’d awoke in the middle of the night to find his cock inside her sweet tightness and her moving her hips ever so slowly against his groin, he thought he was dreaming. He had so often these past two years.

  It wasn’t a dream, though. It was reality. Even so, it took him a few minutes to realize he was bare-back. He’d always worn protection. She was the first woman he’d been inside, skin to skin. Talk about a perfect feeling. He’d tried to warn her to stop, but she’d told him to be quiet. And then the wonderful sensations took over—or maybe it was his cock—and he went with it. They’d had unprotected sex with his coming inside her twice.

  Now, she wouldn’t speak to him. Not because of the lack of condom, but because of his leaving to help a friend. Why couldn’t she understand that? Really, what had he done that was so bad—other than calling Jenna “babe” and Ciera “baby”?

  He exhaled a long sigh and speed-dialed Eva Marie. “Hey, sis, you got power over there?” The kids were running and squealing in the background.

  “Power? I’ve got more power in this house than I need. Our electric was out for about three hours last night. How about you?”

  “Mine went out right after supper and came back on this morning. Do you need anything from the store? Got plenty of milk for the kids? Diapers for Emma?”

  “Thanks for asking, but we’re good. When the weather report predicted a change in the precipitation, I threw the kids in the van and zipped to the grocery store.”

  “Listen, do you have a few minutes to give me a female perspective on something?”

  “Uh-oh. I can tell by the sound of your voice something’s wrong. Is Ciera still with you?”

  “No and she won’t talk to me either.”

  “Hold on, let me refill my coffee cup.” There was a pause. “Okay, I’m sitting down. Spill it, baby brother.”

  “I get tired of you holding those sixteen little months over my head, old sis.”

  “Uh-huh! Deal.”

  He told her about most of their night together and all of their morning. The phone call from Jenna and his brief conversation with Ciera before he’d rushed out the door. All of it.

  “Oh, Mason. I could slap your arrogant backside.”

  “Why? What did I do?” His open hand flung out to the side.

  “You know I love you with all my heart. We’ve always been close. So, I’m going to be damn frank. How much do you care for Ciera?”

  “I love her.” Of that, he was certain.

  “Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it. Were you two in bed when this other woman called?”

  “Yeah, I told you that. We were naked, sleeping in each other’s arms.”

  “Right…and you left the arms of a naked woman, you claim to love, to rush to the aid of another. Someone who you told Ciera was a friend with benefits, no less. But first…first you showered to wash off the smell of sex and were insensitive to Ciera’s tender feelings when you told her that. God, how that must have hurt her!”

  He winced as all of his actions clicked into clarity. “Well…”

  “Well, hell, Mason. Last night was significant for her and you took that away by charging off to the arms of another woman. Of all the asinine things for a man to do!”

  “I didn’t run to Jenna’s arms!” There was a strong dose of defensiveness in his reply.

  “Did Ciera see you two kiss, or not?”

  He swiped a hand down his face. “Yeah. And now I can’t find any toilet paper.”

  “Check the freezer. It’s a message for you to cool off your hot ass.”

  He rolled off the sofa and stalked to his kitchen. Sure enough, there were rolls of frozen toiled paper in his freezer. “Thank
s. I found them. Right where you said. Is this some kind of female code I know nothing about? Because I can’t find my remote either.”

  “Underwear drawer. She’s telling you all your brains are in your pants. Experience, believe me. And, brother dumbest? If she didn’t care for you in return, she wouldn’t be this hurt. You better learn how to grovel if you want to get her back. And tell all your women best friends with benefits you’re off the market.”

  “I can do that.”

  “One more thing, Mason. Don’t expect a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will erase her pain. Things like this cut a woman deep, especially after what you’ve told me her ex-husband did to her. In her mind, you’re as low as he is. Give her time. Go easy, but let her know you intend to win her back. Let’s just hope she gives you the chance. I’m not so sure I would if Sean treated me like that. After all, you’ve broken something very valuable…her trust in you.”

  No one could speak clearer than Eva Marie. She knew how to zing to the heart of his foolish blunders. Hell, he hadn’t meant to hurt Ciera. Thank God he hadn’t mentioned the unprotected sex to his sister. Her manicured hands would have reached through his cellphone to put a stranglehold on him.

  He checked road conditions on his cell and, finding the roads plowed to the police department, he headed for work. There was still a murderer at large and it was time for him to prioritize his life according to a time schedule. He had to find the man who’d killed Bethany. Job during the day. Ciera at night.

  Maybe if he cleared his mind of women for a while, he could think straight about how to win her back. He wasn’t giving up on her. How could he, the way he felt? In his mind no one measured up to her. Plus, if there was a baby in the mix wouldn’t that be fantastic as hell?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Ciera gingerly rolled over, hinged her eyelids open, and groaned when she stretched her stiff muscles. She sat on the edge of the bed and took inventory of her pain. Good news: Her earlobes didn’t hurt. Bad news: She only had two earlobes which meant the rest of her body ached—big time.

  This was what happened to a woman’s body when her sexual activity went from zero to eighty in point nine kisses, she’d shoveled icy snow for two hours, and cried for damn near as long. What she needed was a ten-gallon bucket of Ben Gay and a wide paint brush.

  Instead, she bundled into her robe and slippers before schlepping to her kitchen. Gabby followed, meowing in hopes of some treats. She glanced at the small Christmas tree on a table in front of her picture window and decided not to turn on its twinkling lights. Her holiday spirit was a little dim today. She did pick up the five decorative bulbs Gabby had knocked off and rehung them. Meanwhile the cat paced back and forth in front of the cabinet that held her bag of treats. Three were her required amount to keep body and fur together.

  Ciera glanced at the clock. It was late afternoon. Reaching for her remote, she turned on the little TV setting at the end of her breakfast bar. She’d listen to the weather channel while she made a crockpot of chili.

  Once that was done, she cooked her favorite comfort meal. Sipping a glass of Riesling, she ate a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. For dessert, she opened a chocolate bar.

  She had about seven hours before she’d need to return to work. Of all times to be generous and offer to cover for a worker on another shift. Still, Juanita was a friend and she needed to spend every moment she could with her soldier son. Staying busy would keep her mind off her mistakes with Mason. And with the meteorologist spreading fear and panic with her predictions of a second, more severe wave of snow hitting tonight, emergency calls would rise.

  She walked to her back door and opened it. Snowflakes as large as quarters were already falling. No use to grumble. There was nothing she could do but prepare for the impending storm. She rinsed out Gabby’s water dispenser and filled it with fresh. She topped off her dry food dispenser that would hold her for up to six days.

  Ciera packed a carryon in case she couldn’t get home when her shift ended. To be safe, she threw in enough clothes for a few days. Remembering a blizzard last year that kept her at the station for three days, she removed her sleeping bag from a closet along with a pillow and two extra blankets in case someone else needed them. All her items were piled next to her front door.

  She turned on her oven and baked two dozen cornbread muffins to eat with the chili. She found four cans of tuna in her pantry and boiled eggs to make tuna salad for sandwiches. Not sure what type of bread her co-workers liked, she thawed both rye and whole wheat. She made chocolate chip pecan cookies and sugar cookies cut in Christmas shapes, giving her oven more of a workout. Scanning through her pantry again, she spied a chocolate cake mix but no canned icing. She’d have to make some from scratch. If she and her co-workers couldn’t get home, they wouldn’t starve. Tired, and surprised by her fatigue, she set her alarm and went to bed with snuggle cat for a few hours.

  As she toted her emergency gear and food through the snow in the driveway to her vehicle, she wondered why she always felt the need to take care of everyone else. Who took care of her? She had five trips to ponder that question.

  When she unlocked her door to climb into her vehicle, she noticed cardboard over her windshield. Someone had scraped all the new-fallen snow off and placed cardboard under her windshield wipers to keep the glass clear. She glanced around. Which one of her neighbors would have done that? It was then she realized she’d been walking on a shoveled path. Granted it was covered with fresh powder, but it wasn’t as deep as everywhere else. Who had been kind enough to shovel from her little porch to her Land Rover?

  If her eyes weren’t deceiving her, the snowplow had been on Rainbow Road and someone had shoveled out the end of her driveway. If that wasn’t the strangest thing. Snowplows never hit her development until they were doing side streets. What prompted this change in their schedule?

  Sure enough her street had been plowed. Hallelujah! So had the next street leading to a more prominent road. Double hallelujah! Her ride to work would be less stressful, even with the snow falling thickly in the beams of her headlights.

  She pulled in front of the entrance to the police station to carry in her cargo. The policeman on duty at the desk hurried to help her, especially after she said she had food. Once they had the food and other items inside, she hurried to park the Land Rover.

  When she rounded the corner to the communications center, tugging her carry-on and hugging her sleeping bag, Juanita stood.

  “Girl, you weren’t supposed to be here for another forty minutes. You came prepared, I see.”

  Ciera stowed her sleeping bag under the counter where she’d be manning the phones and parked her suitcase at the end of the lockers. “Roads are bad. Leave now, Juanita. I’ll cover for you.” Ciera turned. “Officer, set the crockpot on the counter beside the coffee maker. Would you bring up another armful of stuff, please?” She marched to the locker she and Juanita shared. Pulling out the woman’s blue puffy coat, Ciera shook it at her. “Put this on. Go! Now!” She shrugged out of her own long black coat and scarf and hung them up, shoving her purse onto a shelf. “I’m serious. Leave now and call your husband. You two better get going before they close the roads. You’ve got a son to pick up.”

  “You don’t need to tell me twice. Thanks, my friend.” She grabbed her things and hurried off.

  The officer and Mason, of all people, both returned with their arms full of her things. Mason had her pillows and quilts tucked under one arm and carried her cooler. What was he doing at the station at midnight? Her vision quickly snapped to the locker so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with the last person she wanted to see right now. She jerked off her knit cap and flung it inside.

  She hadn’t expected him to be here. God, she couldn’t ignore him. Everyone would notice, put one and one together and get sex. She took a deep breath. “Mason, if you’d put my pillow and quilts under my work area with the sleeping bag, that would be great. They’ll be out of the way there.” There, see how
normal I sound?

  Inside she was everything but. There was a buzzing in her ears, fluttering in her stomach, and trembling hands.

  “And the cooler?” His deep voice rumbled over her.

  “Ah…on the floor at the end of the cooking counter. There are ice packs in it to keep the food cold. Thanks.” She fingered her curls, trying to get some semblance of order after wearing a knit cap over them. “I’ll be back. I have a few more things to bring up.”

  His hand wrapped around her elbow and warmth from him pulsed into her. “Stay. I’ll get it. You’ve done enough already.”

  She changed out of her tall snow boots into the sneakers she kept in her locker. Larry was dispatching an ambulance for a possible heart attack when the other line rang. Ciera put on her earpiece and answered the 911 call. It was a little girl calling about her dad beating her mommy. Domestic calls like this were the most emotional for her. She loved children so much and worried over those who had to witness such violence.

  As she keyed in the information provided by the child, Mason brought in the rest of the food. She motioned him over and pointed to the monitor.

  He jotted down the address and names. “I’ll grab a couple officers and take care of this. Tell the little girl Mason is coming. Keep channel eight open for me in case I can’t find the girl. Find out if she’s hiding in the house.” She nodded.

  Ciera relayed the information to Sarah and kept talking to her while screaming and what sounded like furniture being broken sounded in the background. The child told her she was using her mommy’s cellphone, hiding under her bed with her Pooh Bear and stuffed dog. Poor little frightened thing.

  Finally, after a long time of trying to calm Sarah and praise her for her bravery in calling for help, Mason’s voice barked on channel eight. “Officers Jackson and Chen have the man under arrest, the wife beating bastard. Get an ambulance here for the woman. Where’s the child?”

  “Hiding under her bed, Mason. Her room is pink and her name’s Sarah.”

  “Got’cha.” There was a pause. “Hey, there cutie. I’m Mason. I’m a friend of Ciera, the sweet lady you’re talking to on the phone. Don’t be afraid. I’m going to keep you safe.”