Blue Ridge: Vol. 3 - Escape

by Sophia Gray

  Walt looked up at him and grinned. “The doe came back and ate berries from my hand!” Walt was the family Dr. Doolittle. Their mother had great hopes for his abilities with animals. He was also the family philosopher and keeper of the peace. Foster loved him dearly. Darren and their father had no use for him.

  “That’s great, Walt. I know you have been working hard to win her trust.” Foster said sitting beside him. He grabbed a tall piece of grass and began winding it around two of his fingers.

  Walt turned his head slightly. “You have something on your mind.”

  “I met a girl today.”

  “Is she pretty?”

  Foster smiled and let the grass unwind fall to the ground. “Yes. But I don’t think she knows it. She dresses plain and doesn’t try to make herself pretty.”

  “So, why did you take her to lunch?”

  Foster laughed out loud. His brother’s “gift” always startled and delighted him. “I took her so I could talk to her.”

  Walt looked into the meadow and Foster knew he was waiting for another animal to come to him. “You know Mother and Father will disapprove.”

  Foster sighed and clasped his hands his hands between his knees. “I know, but I can’t help it. As soon as I saw her, I just had to know her.”

  Foster knew his brother was right – his parents would certainly not approve. But for Foster, something inside him, something dormant for so long, was making him willing to take that risk

  ****

  Nadia was having a hard time concentrating at work. Her thoughts kept going back to Foster and their kiss. Kristen couldn’t believe she had kissed him on the first date, and Nadia had to agree –it was very out of character. She just couldn’t help herself. The Book Nook was slower than usual and any other night this would have been heaven for her. Nadia could have studied and read to her heart’s desire, but all she really wanted was to call Foster. She wasn’t the type to call first, but she was seriously considering changing that.

  Her love-life experience was limited to a brief six month courtship with Ryan the Creep her junior year of high school, which ended with an embarrassing romp in the back of his car. Kristen could give her plenty of advice, most of which would embarrass the socks off of a prostitute, but Kristen was as likely to have sex with a guy as she was to punch him.

  When the store finally closed at seven, Nadia had given up hope that Foster would call first and she despondently waved goodbye to her boss from across the parking lot. She was not paying attention as she unlocked her car, and nearly jumped out of her skin, when someone said “Hi” from the other side. She clutched at her chest and her keys fell to the ground.

  “Foster!” Nadia blinked her eyes several times and bent to retrieve her keys from the ground.

  “Hey, I’m sorry I scared you!” Foster said rushing around the side of the car.

  “What are you doing here?” Her voice was angrier than she meant it to be.

  “Oh, well, I wanted to get a book, but the store is closed, so I guess I will just have to get it later.”

  Nadia could see he was struggling to seem nonchalant, but she wasn’t buying it. “What book?”

  “Oh. The book called…well, actually I just wanted to see you.” He replied with a sheepish grin. “Maybe I should have called first.”

  Oh irony. Nadia thought. “No, this is good. I debated if I should call you all evening.”

  “You should have. It could’ve saved you a mild heart attack.”

  His smile was contagious and Nadia couldn’t help but smile back. The evening air was mild and the early fall smells that Nadia loved so much were wafting on the breeze.

  “So, what are you going to do now?”

  Nadia shrugged. “I was just going home.”

  “Do you have plans for the weekend?”

  “No, I actually have this weekend off. I’m only required to work one Saturday a month, which I already did, and we are closed on Sundays.” Nadia felt like it was too much information. She was babbling and stalling for time. How could she tell him that she didn’t do anything except clean her parents’ house and read most every weekend? How could she tell him that her only friend was Kristen, and the most exciting things they did were day trips to Charlottesville for shopping, or grabbing a burger and shakes from the Tastee-Freeze?

  Foster seemed to pick up on her distress and tried to make it better. “I understand. It’s kind of lame, but I don’t do much either. I usually just help out at home and work on writing or something like that.”

  Nadia smiled lightly and felt gratitude for him not making fun of her. “You don’t work anywhere?”

  “Just at home.”

  “Oh.” Nadia wasn’t sure what to think of that. She was pretty sure Foster had told her he was twenty. Maybe his family already had money and he didn’t need to work, unlike her.

  “How about I pick you up tomorrow and we can go do something.”

  “Like what?”

  “Ever been inside the caves at Luray?” Nadia shook her head. “Want to go?”

  “Yes.” Nadia smiled and felt an excitement building in her that was foreign and wonderful. “Here, let me give you directions.” She pulled a small notebook from her purse and wrote directions from the bookstore to her house.

  “Okay, yeah, I know exactly where that is.”

  Nadia opened her car door and slid inside. “What time should I be ready?”

  “Eight a.m. sharp.” He said with a grin and shut the door for her. He watched her drive away and felt happy, but it didn’t last long, as he soon noticed a familiar car at the far end of the parking lot. Two shadowy figures watched him, but he pretended to not see and walked back to his vehicle, with pinpricks attacking the base of his skull.

  ****

  At seven forty-five, Nadia was running a brush through her hair for the fifth time. The bathroom was more crowded than usual, with shirts hanging on hangers on the shower rack and a foldable drying rack halfway in the tub and halfway out, and with towels hanging at all sorts of angles from it. Her mother was banging on the door already before Nadia could get out of the shower, yelling through the thin wood that she had ‘an arm load of wet things to hang up’. Her mother returned with two dishtowels, and squeezed past Nadia to hang them on the towel rack.

  “When’s Dad fixing the dryer?”

  “Couldn’t say.”

  “Working today?”

  Her mother put her fist on her broad hip and watched Nadia through the mirror. “Nope. Off this weekend and next since I will be working six days a week through the Apple Festival. This boy gonna come in and introduce himself?”

  Nadia felt a moment of panic at the thought. Her mother’s horrendous grammar and the cramped state of their doublewide were not exactly things she wanted to share with Foster at this point.

  “I don’t know, Mom. We’re driving to Luray.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, it’s not that far and coming to the door is only right.”

  Before Nadia could answer, a knock sounded at the front door. Her mother smiled sweetly. “Oh, I’ll get it!” Nadia rolled her eyes and cut the bathroom light off. She entered her room and grabbed her purse, taking a quick inventory of its contents before going down the hall to the living room. To her horror, her Dad was also there rocking back and forth on his heels with his thumbs bent over two belt loops. Her mother was smiling and nodding her head at something Foster was saying. Her parents had waited two years for her to have another date. They probably were negotiating a dowry that involved a pig and two chickens. Foster saw her and waved.

  “Ready?” His manner was friendly and she could tell her parents were impressed.

  “Yeah.” Nadia looked at her parents. “I shouldn’t be too late.”

  “Well, we’ll just see you later.” Her Dad replied. Oh yes, they were impressed. At this point a male of any kind at the door would impress.

  Foster stuck out his hand in turn to each of them. “Frank, Crystal, it was a pleasure meeting you
.”

  “You too!” They said in unison. Nadia was sure they were talking in slow mumbled phrases as they watched from the door. Her mother would be waiting to see if Foster opened the door for her, and her father would be looking at what kind of car he drove. Neither would be disappointed. Foster was a perfect gentleman and opened the door, and he drove a newer model Equinox. Yes, Frank James was a Chevy man.

  ****

  By mid-afternoon Nadia was feeling happier than she had ever felt. Foster seemed to know more about the Caverns than the guide did, and he was the easiest person to talk to that she had ever met. As they walked back to the car amidst yelling kids and bedraggled parents, Foster took her hand in his as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His skin felt warm and smooth, and Nadia said a silent prayer that her hand wouldn’t start to sweat.

  “Hungry?”

  “Yes!” She had been too nervous to eat breakfast, and felt famished.

  “Good.” He said opening the door for her again. “I have a special treat.”

  They drove a short distance to a small campground area, and Foster produced a large picnic basket from the back of his vehicle. Nadia could hardly believe it. He found a nice shaded area and spread a blanket for them before laying out containers of cheese, cold meats, condiments, and bread. He had even remembered utensils and drinks. The best thing he pulled from the basket were the strawberries. Strawberries were Nadia’s favorite fruit and she told him so with a delighted laugh.

  “You must have gotten up pretty early to get all this ready.”

  “Nah, it was nothing.” He said building a sandwich. “Mustard or mayo?”

  “Mayo, if it’s still cool.”

  Foster snickered. “Yes, Mam, my picnic came complete with ice packs.”

  “Sorry, I’m funny about stuff like that.”

  “I understand. Does your family hunt?”

  She took the sandwich from his outstretched hand. “My Dad does. I like to eat whatever he kills, but I don’t like to clean it. I feel bad for the animals.”

  “You would get along with my brother Walt just fine then. He only eats meat about once a week. If he had his way, he wouldn’t eat any.”

  “Why can’t he?”

  “My Dad and other brother wouldn’t understand. They give him a hard enough time as it is.”

  They ate in silence for a while, simply enjoying the day and each other’s company. Nadia was amazed that their lapse in conversation and the silence it produced didn’t feel even the least bit awkward. Soon they were devouring the strawberries for dessert and putting all the trash back in the picnic basket.

  “Do you have siblings?”

  “No.”

  Foster looked at her for a moment and closed the basket. “I was just wondering….”

  “Why I look the way I do, and my parents don’t?”

  “You don’t look that different.”

  Her eyes shone with amusement. “They are both redheads with typical redhead skin. I am darker with black hair.”

  “Okay, okay, you’ve got me there. I was a bit curious, I suppose.”

  “I’m adopted.”

  “Really? How was that when they told you?”

  Nadia shrugged. “I have kind of always known. They never hid it. They gave me the ‘talk’ when I was about four or five, but I always knew deep down.”

  “Do you have any interest in finding your real parents?”

  Nadia watched a family nearby that had two small children and a dog. They were smiling and happy, throwing a Frisbee at the dog. Every time the dog leapt into the air and caught it, the children would squeal their delight. Picture perfect is what some would call it.

  “No, Foster, I don’t want to find them.”

  He didn’t respond. He simply sat resting his weight on one arm behind him and with the other one draped loosely on his bent knee. He watched the family and seemed to understand without saying so. Nadia glanced at him and decided he deserved an answer that explained rather than cutting him off. She felt like she would never be able to deny him anything about herself.

  “My parents can’t have kids. They also couldn’t qualify for adoption for various reasons, which is funny, since they did qualify to foster parent temporarily at least. Anyway, I was the second kid they took in. The first one had only needed to stay for about a month. I was an ‘emergency’. I was found in a rest area off of Route 64. I was about a year old and had injuries that were originally thought to need long term care. My parents were the only ones who agreed without question. Eventually adoption was granted, but I was seven before it was official.”

  “My God, Nadia.”

  “Yeah. So, that’s why I don’t want to meet my real parents.”

  Foster squeezed her hand and leaned over to kiss her. She didn’t feel sorry for herself. She didn’t feel embarrassed that she told him such a horrible and deeply personal story. All she felt was a bond blooming between them. As ridiculous and romantic as it sounded, she knew that he owned her heart. It was just that simple. Twenty-four hours was all it took. When he pulled back and she looked into his dark green eyes, she also knew that Foster now belonged to her. The bizarre thing was not that she fell in love within a day; it was that she didn’t even know his last name. Once again his uncanny ability to guess her thoughts came out, as he pulled her into his chest so they could lean against the tree. “In case you’re wondering,” he whispered, “my full name is Foster Danann Anak.”

  Nadia nestled her head into her chest and said sleepily, “Nadia Maurelle James.”

  Foster tilted his head and frowned. “Did your parents name you that?”

  “Nope. They just changed the spelling of my first name. N-a-i-d-a Maurelle was written in marker on my shirt. My Mom thought it was ‘Nadia’ and maybe it was just misspelled.”

  Foster’s frown deepened, but he fought it back and felt a surge of hope for the impossible.

  “Take a nap, Nadia. We have all the time in the world.”

  ****

  The rest of the day was filled with long walks through beautiful trails, hands stuck together, and their laughter sporadically sending birds flying and squirrels running. Nadia was sorry when he dropped her off, but a promise of a call before bed and another promise of a visit the following day was all it took to send her happily indoors.

  Foster enjoyed the ride to his house in the deepening twilight. His car held the lingering scent of Nadia. It filled his head and caused a nervousness to spread through his belly. Something wasn’t right at home. He could sense it as he drove the long driveway and saw the house come into view. It was ablaze with artificial light, which meant only one thing; his father was home. Foster looked towards the barn and saw the familiar black SUV looming like a dark shadow. He sighed and cut the car off, waiting for the nervousness to pass. Tapping his car key on the dash, he stared decidedly at the front door and got out of the car. “Fear is acceptable as long as it doesn’t stop you from anything.” It was the first rule his father had taught them. He taught it as soon as they could speak and repeat it. “No mercy” was the other lesson.

  As soon as he stepped into the house, all eyes turned towards him. The floor plan was normally fantastic. The bottom of the house was almost completely open. A triple size fire place was on the left and center in the living room, which extended from there and circled until it met with the kitchen and dining area on his right. The far side of the room held windows as tall as he was and large glass doors that opened to the woods beyond. Upstairs were five bedrooms, four of which had huge windows. The fifth bedroom was the room his parents slept in when his father was home. It had no windows. The house, on a good day, made Foster feel glad to be home. The traditional rustic log cabin on a much grander scale had amused him. Today, eyes of varying emotion looked directly at him, boring into him, and he wanted to be anywhere else. He focused on Walt for a moment, sitting on the hearth. He had his elbows resting on his knees and his hands were clasped. He barley lifted his eyes to Foster.
And a look of pain was in them.

  “Where have you been?” his father’s voice broke the silence, with calm, punctuated words.

  “I went to Luray today.” Foster dared not look directly at him, but he already knew what he would see; a bigger, more intimidating version of Darren.

  “Did you go alone?”

  Foster hesitated. “No, Sir, I took a girl with me.”

  His father was on him in lightning fast speed. The slap to his face was an instant shock and nearly took him off his feet. “Fool!” His father spat before walking away. Foster could feel the massive handprint forming on his burning face.