Big Sky Eyes

by Sawyer Belle

  For several long minutes he stared down at her face. It was white and smooth, untroubled and at ease. She looked like an angel. Finally, he folded one of her hands between his and smoothed his thumb over the tiny bumps and grooves made by her veins and knuckles. He brought the hand up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss over the back of it before he uncurled her fingers and pressed her palm to his cheek, mimicking the gesture she so often used to show her love to him.

  Never again would he feel her warm palm on his cheek. Never again would they share a meal, or an apartment, or a laugh. Never again would that face smile up at him. His eyes were so full that he wanted to shut them, but he would not even blink. Soon enough, she would be taken from him, never to be looked on again. For this last time, he would look upon his mother. He did so well into the night, and as he did he closed the door on his emotions, cutting off the tears desperate to spill at his throat.

  Chapter 33

  Mackenna burrowed her face into the layers of her scarf while she rested her chin on top of her folded arms on the pasture fence. The remnants of the previous week’s snowstorm had vanished and though the ground was dry, it was hard and cold as ice. A brisk mountain wind blew through the valley, turning her nose pink and her fingers numb. Her gaze fell unfocused on the ground. A sense of unease was gnawing at her and she didn’t know why.

  “Mackenna!” Helen called from the back of a horse. “Did you see the limp?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. I wasn’t really paying attention. Can we call it a day? I’m freezing my bones out here.”

  “You go in and warm up,” she called down. “I’ll be in in a little while.”

  Mackenna nodded and walked back into the house. The fireplace was roaring, boxing in the welcoming heat. She hung her coat up and removed her boots. Tossing her gloves and scarf on the coffee table, she stood in front of the blaze until her nose began to drip dry and her fingers tingled with renewed life. As the flames flicked and danced, she chewed her bottom lip, wondering why she felt troubled.

  The Christmas tree shimmered in the shadows of the fire and resting on the wooden arm of a chair beside it was the laptop she’d been using since she moved back home. She snatched a blanket and wrapped it around her as she settled into the chair and opened the computer. She went to her calendar first to make sure that she wasn’t forgetting an important appointment or something. Nothing unusual stood out to her.

  Next, she signed onto the Internet and checked her emails. Rows of junk emails greeted her until she came to an email from Leslie. The subject said BRENT. Her heart instantly hammered her chest. Why would Leslie be emailing her about Brent? What if something happened to him? She sucked in a breath and opened the email.

  Mackenna,

  I thought you should know that Alora passed away last night peacefully in her sleep. Brent is devastated. I don’t know what’s going on with you two. I don’t know if you’ll be mad at me for telling you this or if he will be mad at me for telling you this, but I thought that you would want to know. I know that Alora was fond of you and spoke highly of you. I hope that you all are doing well.

  Love, Leslie

  Tears had already begun to stream down her cheeks before she finished reading the email. She re-read it a few more times, unwilling to believe the words within. A deep sadness took over her heart. She grieved Alora and worried for Brent. This would destroy his entire world. She suddenly felt the need to go to him. She could not let him go through this alone.

  She grabbed her phone and called Leslie, who answered on the first ring.

  “Hey Leslie,” she said with a sniffle.

  “Hi, Mackenna. How are you?”

  “I just got your email about Alora.”

  “Isn’t it awful?” she said. “Ty’s with Brent now.”

  “How is he doing?”

  “I don’t know. He’s…he’s like a cold stone. No life or emotion in him.”

  Mackenna’s eyes watered again. “When are services?”

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  “Can you send me all of the information please?”

  “Sure. You going to come up?”

  “I’ll be there,” she said resolutely. “One way or another, I’ll be there.”

  They hung up and she tapped feverishly on the keys, searching for the soonest flights to Montana. She was still deep in the process when Helen came into the house, sharing a laugh with the man who followed her. Mackenna didn’t look up, but she knew it was Rick. He was planning to come down and spend Christmas with them.

  “Look who I found?” her mother called cheerfully.

  “Hey, Babe,” Rick called as he leaned in to give her a kiss. She dodged it and moved her head around his face so that she could see her computer screen. It was then that Rick saw her tears. “What’s the matter?”

  Helen noticed them after that and asked the same question.

  “I need to go to Montana,” Mackenna answered. “Tonight, if possible.”

  “Tonight?” her mother and Rick said in unison.

  “Yes,” she said solidly.

  “What’s going on? What happened?” Helen worried.

  “Brent’s mom has died,” and she couldn’t even say the words without her emotions choking her up again.

  “Oh, no,” Helen said sadly. Though she’d only met Alora the one time, she took an instant liking to her.

  “Who’s Brent?” Rick asked.

  “He’s…” Mackenna began and then went silent as she realized that she had never told Rick about Brent, “an old friend.”

  “When are the services?” Helen asked. “I’d like to send flowers.”

  “The day after Christmas.”

  “Oh,” Rick sounded relieved. “Then we don’t have to go tonight. We can find something tomorrow.”

  Mackenna stopped her search and finally lifted her eyes to her fiancé. “We?”

  “Well, of course. I wouldn’t expect you to go on your own.”

  “You don’t have to come,” she said.

  “But I want to…”

  “You’re not coming, Rick,” she said, cutting him off. Rick looked from Mackenna’s hard gaze to her mother’s sheepish one. She offered no assistance, but promptly left the room to give them privacy.

  “What is this about?” he asked.

  “It’s about me going to comfort my friend,” she answered. “A friend you didn’t even know about until two seconds ago. I don’t need you there to comfort me.”

  His eyes narrowed in accusation. “This doesn’t happen to be the friend that you wasted your summer crying over when we first met, does it?”

  Mackenna rolled her eyes with a sigh.

  “I’m not going to deal with your idiotic jealousy tonight,” she said. “This has nothing to do with my tears two summers ago. It has to do with a friend who has just suffered a devastating loss.”

  “My idiotic jealousy?” he said, his voice rising in anger. “My fiancé wants to go see a guy she loved and pined after for years and she has forbidden me to come. You don’t find that reason enough for me to be worried?”

  She quirked her eyebrows suspiciously.

  “How do you know I was in love with him? You didn’t even know who he was a minute ago.”

  “I knew who he was,” Rick sneered. “I just wanted to see if you would tell me the truth, and you didn’t. Another reason for me to be jealous! You think you can forbid me to go with you? Well, I forbid you to go on your own!”

  “You didn’t answer me, Rick. How did you know about my feelings for Brent?”

  “I read it!”

  “What do you mean you read it?”

  “In your journals, Mackenna,” he spat. “I know all about your toxic love for him.”

  She stood slowly, rage burning in the blue of her eyes. “You read my journals? How dare you?”

  “How dare I?” he asked defensively. “I am going to be your husband. I have a right to, and I will say when…”

&
nbsp; “You have no right!” she shouted back. “We may be engaged, but that does not give you any rights over me and my things. I say what I do and when I do it. I say what parts of my life are private and what parts you are allowed to participate in. You don’t own any part of me.”

  They stood glaring at one another. It was Mackenna who finally broke the silence with an angry hiss.

  “I want you to leave right now. When I get back from Montana, we are going to have a long talk about this.”

  “I’m not going anywhere…” he began.

  “Rick,” came her father’s deep voice from the entryway. Her mother stood beside him. Neither looked pleased by what they’d overheard. “You need to leave, son.”

  His eyes darkened in a way that she’d never seen before, but he dared not disrespect her father. He turned to leave, but at the doorway he looked at her once more.

  “If you do this,” he warned, “you’ll regret it.”

  “No,” Mackenna answered. “This, I’m sure I won’t regret.” She took the ring from her finger and walked to the door to give it to him. He stared at it, refusing to take it. She dropped it into his coat pocket.

  “I don’t want to marry you, Rick,” she said. “I don’t even want to be with you.”

  His face paled and his eyes watered. She held up a hand to stop him, all sympathy gone from her forever.

  “Don’t waste your tears,” she said. “My mind is made up. I’m done with you.”

  He gathered his emotions and pressed his quivering lips together, giving her a single curt nod before leaving the house. She heard his engine roar to life and the gravel spitting as he sped down the drive. Her parents studied her face, looking for signs of a heartbreak that she didn’t feel. She left them in the entryway and went back to her computer, searching for a way to get to Montana.

  Ty slipped the delivery driver a twenty dollar bill and took the pizza from him. Brent was sitting at the kitchen table, looking through casket brochures and gulping his third beer. His face was plain and unaffected as though he was browsing a shirt catalog, but his foot tapped restlessly beneath the table. Ty put the pizza down, grabbed another beer for Brent and himself and sat beside him.

  As Ty ate and sipped quietly, Brent’s foot tapping worsened.

  “Bronze, copper, mahogany, maple, ash” Brent rattled off impatiently before shoving the leaflets away from him in disgust. “What the fuck does it matter what kind of box you go into the ground in?”

  He finished off his old beer before grabbing the new one Ty had supplied and tilted his head back, draining half of the bottle in one swig.

  “Have some pizza, Brent.”

  “I’m not hungry, but thanks,” he told Ty. “Hell, I still haven’t touched the fridge full of food I got from the church women. You know you don’t have to stay if you don’t want. I’m good here.”

  “That’s all right,” Ty answered. “I’ll stick around. You might need someone to get some more beer for you.”

  Brent smiled softly and drained the rest of the bottle. “A distinct possibility.”

  Ty left the table and got another beer for his friend. He stood over Brent, shifting from one foot to the other before finally asking what was on his mind.

  “Is there anyone you want me to call for you?”

  Brent looked up. His eyes darkened sadly, showing emotion for the first time since Ty had shown up, but he soon reclaimed his empty slate of a face and shook his head.

  “Nah. Thanks though.”

  “It’s okay, Brent,” Ty said softly.

  “What?”

  “To show some emotion, to let it out.”

  Brent laughed a humor that never reached his eyes. “What, are you trying to psychologize me? I’m fine, Ty. It’s not like I didn’t think this day was ever going to come.”

  Ty frowned. He knew Brent was bottled up, but he didn’t know how to get him to grieve. He’d never gone through anything like this himself. Brent finished his beer and tossed the empty bottle in the trash.

  “Seriously, Ty, I’m good. Why don’t you head on home to Leslie. I appreciate you coming over. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Ty was on the verge of refusing again when Brent interrupted him.

  “This is what I need, Ty,” he said with a solid voice and a plea in his eye. “I need to be alone.”

  Ty nodded, feeling the weight of his own helplessness. He turned and left.

  Once Brent had the place to himself, he wanted nothing more than to drink until he passed out. He went to the fridge and opened it up. His shelves were full of food. Casseroles, meatloaves and pies brought over by churchwomen cluttered every last inch of space. He shoved them around, looking for beer. When he realized that he was completely out he slammed the door shut and punched it. As the pain in his knuckles ebbed, he leaned his forehead against the door of the refrigerator and sighed. Raw emotion throbbed everywhere in him, but he would not yield.

  He must have stood there for twenty minutes, enough time for Ty to run to the store and back because soon he heard a knock at the door. When he opened the portal, there was no one there, but on his doorstep sat a fresh twelve-pack. Brent silently gave thanks for his friend who knew him so well, grabbed the beers, and slammed the door to the outside world.

  Chapter 34

  There were no flights available on Christmas Eve, and the only one she could book for Christmas day left late in the evening. She would have to rent a car in Missoula and drive the two hours on her own and hope to God there was a motel with vacancy once she got there.

  As the plane hovered in the pitch black sky, her thoughts wandered back and forth between apprehension at seeing Brent and anger toward Rick. She wondered if Leann would be there, and if she would allow Mackenna time alone with him. No doubt she knew of Mackenna’s confession to Brent at Ty’s wedding and she would not likely give way to her again.

  As far as Rick, Mackenna worried herself over the darkness of his eyes. It had occurred to her after he left that her journals had all been packed up and stored when she moved out of her apartment. So, he had to have read them while she was still at the apartment, before they got engaged, but how could he have done it without her seeing? It’s not like he was ever alone in there.

  She looked down at her bare ring finger. It felt light and free after the choking burden it had become to her in recent months. How could she have talked herself into marrying him? Well, in her defense, he had changed a great deal after they had sex.

  For Mackenna, their sexual life left much to be desired. She quickly found herself finding excuses to avoid the act and counting the seconds until it was done once it began. She’d find herself focusing on some distant spot on the ceiling, or musing over a passage she’d read recently while trying to constantly readjust herself so that he couldn’t pull any more hair from her scalp with his arms pinned to the sides of her head.

  He was a sloppy and hurried lover, and if he cared one whit about pleasing her, he never did anything about it. He certainly knew how to get his own body slick with sweat and shivering in ecstasy. To Mackenna, ecstasy was still a romantic illusion. The more sex they had, the more repulsed she became and she knew that she would not be able to sign herself up for a lifetime of obligatory sex. Everything in their relationship had been leading toward a breakup, and she felt amazingly unburdened to finally have it behind her.

  By the time she landed, every rental car office was closed. She was able to book passage on a bus, but would have to change buses three times to actually get where she was going. When she finally made it to town in the early hours of the morning, the only place within walking distance was a truck stop called the Lazy J. She crept passed the rows of sleeping semis, schlepping her duffel bag, and burdened the night manager for a room. She was thrilled to find that he had one available for her.

  She was so exhausted that she didn’t care that the space was so small that it barely fit her bag in between the door and the bed. She didn’t care that the linens smelled
like urine, that there was no hot water in the bathroom or that the carpet had stains eerily the color of blood. She pulled her heavy parka around her like a sheath and collapsed on top of the bed and fell instantly asleep.

  The services for Alora were at ten o’clock in the morning, and it took Mackenna so much time to find the church on foot that she arrived just as it began. The tiny church was packed full of people and parishioners who had loved Alora, and Mackenna had to stand in the back. She searched the rows of heads, looking for Brent’s but she did not find him.

  The preacher spoke emotionally and eloquently of Alora’s faith and persevering attitude, adding that though her body had been weak, she was one of the strongest people he’d known. Mackenna agreed, thinking of all that she had endured. Soon others moved to the front to recount stories of Alora’s humor, her generosity and her loving nature.

  A slideshow ended the service and Mackenna found herself smiling through her tears as images of a frothy blonde-haired boy child splashed through the montage. Images of Natalie appeared as well and Mackenna gasped at how much she had looked like Alora. Both mother and daughter had been beautiful.

  The lights came on. The preacher directed everyone to the reception hall of the church for refreshments and a mass of bodies shuffled in that direction. Mackenna saw Bev McCrae and the woman hurried to her. They hugged and cried. Grant, Ty and Leslie soon joined them.

  “It was so good of you to come,” Bev said emotionally, squeezing her hand. “Brent’s gonna need you.”

  Mackenna looked at Ty. “How is he?”

  “You know Brent,” he dismissed. “He’s holding it all in. He’s fighting it.”