Chasing Fireflies

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Chasing Fireflies Page 3

by Paige P. Horne


  “Don’t you smoke that thing in here. You’ll have my allergies just a fussing.”

  I can’t hear what he says back, but as I’m getting into my truck I hear that bell again and the smell of a cigar being lit hits my senses.

  *

  The screen door opens, and Debbie walks out onto the porch. I kill the engine and get out.

  “Cash.” She nods to me, placing her hands on her hips

  “Thanks for coming, Debbie. How is she?”

  “Sleeping still,” she says, crossing her sweater-covered arms over her chest. It’s eighty out and this woman has on a sweater. “She won’t get up, and she screamed at me. Are you giving her medicine to her?”

  “I don’t give it to her, Debbie. She knows to take it,” I answer, walking onto the porch.

  “And you’re not making sure she takes it every day?” she asks me.

  “She’s grown.” I open the screen door, knowing she’ll follow me.

  She huffs, “You have to make sure she’s taking it, Cash. I still don’t know what you two were thinking. Sara’s sick. She can’t be left alone. She shouldn’t be sleeping. If you were making sure she’s taking her medication, she wouldn’t be sleeping all day like this.”

  “It’s because of the meds she is sleeping all day like this,” I say to Debbie, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer.

  “So, you’re drinking now?” She looks at the beer in my hand.

  “If you’re asking if I’m about to drink this beer, then yes. If you’re implying I have a drinking problem, then no,” I say, twisting the cap off and tossing it into the trash. I walk past her and back onto the porch. I hate dealing with this woman. I know Debbie is concerned about her daughter, but she could cut me some slack. I sit down on the swing and look up when she comes walking out.

  “Cash, why don’t y’all sell this junk pile and move back home? We can take care of Sara there. We can watch her.”

  “No!” I say. She jumps from the sound of my voice. “Debbie.” I sigh. “I’m sorry. Thank you for coming. You should be getting on your way before it gets dark.” It’s only a little after lunch, but I need her to leave before I lose my shit. She gets that same defeated look in her eyes I’ve seen many times over and her shoulders slouch.

  “Fine,” she says. “Call me if you need me.” She walks down the steps.

  “Debbie,” I call after her before she gets into her car. “Thank you.”

  “You never have to thank me for looking after my child,” she says. I nod and she gets in. I sip my beer as I watch her leave and look over at the door as it opens. Sara walks out in her pajamas and piled-up curls.

  “She’s gone, huh?” she asks, sitting down beside me. The swing rocks as she folds her legs under.

  “She is,” I confirm.

  “Why did you call her?”

  “You know why, baby.” She doesn’t say anything because she does know why. Sometimes Sara gets bad thoughts and doesn’t want to live anymore. She leans down and rests her head on my lap. I kick off the porch and drink my beer. We sit in silence as the day passes by, just looking out at the old road and the wheat fields that sway from the wind.

  *

  “I got the job,” I tell Sara as we sit on the floor in front of the couch. We’ve unpacked the whole house, and our coffee table is filled with things we both love. Beef jerky has made my teeth hurt, and Sara’s hands are buttered up from popcorn.

  “I figured you would,” she says, wiping her fingers off.

  “Well, aren’t you going to say congratulations?” I ask. She sighs and tosses the kitchen towel onto the table.

  “Is this what you want, Cash?”

  My eyes look over when a soft curl falls from behind her ear.

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Well, then congratulations.” She unfolds her legs and stands up.

  “Where are you going?” I ask as she walks away from me.

  “I want a shower.”

  “Are you mad, Sara?” I stand, too. She doesn’t respond, and I watch her walk up the stairs.

  “Baby,” I call, following her. “Sara, I want you to be okay with this. I need you to be okay with this.”

  “I’m fine!” she yells and shuts the bathroom door harder than I’d like. I decide to follow some more. The sound of running water flows through my ears when I come near the door. I tap on it.

  “Can we talk about this?”

  “No.” I hear, and as I go to twist the doorknob, the door flies open. “You know what?” she says and my eyes look down at her in nothing but boy shorts and a black bra. “I’ve changed my mind. We can talk about this.” Mad love rushes past me, and I turn around. “You never even discussed this with me,” she says, pacing back and forth. “You didn’t say, ‘Sara, when we move I’m going to get another cop job.’ You just stuck your head right out of that stupid window and asked the chief if he was hiring. I wasn’t even included in the conversation, Cash. You act as if I’m a child. I am an adult, baby. A grown woman!” she yells.

  “I know that.”

  “Oh, you know, do you?” she replies, all smart-ass. “If you know I’m a grown woman, then why don’t you treat me as one? I’m sick, Cash, not stupid.”

  “I’ve never called you stupid,” I say, deadpan.

  “You don’t have to.” She crosses her arms. I step toward her, and she steps back.

  “Sara.”

  “Cash,” she replies, turning her head sideways and lifting her brow. I step forward again, and she moves her foot back.

  “Stop moving away from me.”

  “I don’t think so, Mr. Deputy. I think I will move away from you, and I think I’ll sleep away from you, too.”

  I know wrinkles are now on my forehead, and I narrow my eyes. “So, you’re not going to sleep in the same bed as me?”

  “Nope. You, my husband, will sleep on the couch down there with the mice!” she says, like ha!

  “Oh, really?” I question with a lift of my brow line. This time she narrows her eyes when I step forward again.

  “Cash,” she warns and backs up two steps.

  “Where are you going?” I ask her as I step forward again. I see it when her emotions betray her, and a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. I launch forward, and she squeals as she takes off running. I chase her down the stairs and grab her just as she turns into the kitchen. “Don’t ever run from me, Sara.”

  “Put me down.”

  “Nope.” I smack her ass and set her down on the table. Putting my arms at her sides, I cage her in and search her pretty blues.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. She goes to speak, and I quickly put my finger over her lips. She clamps her mouth shut. “From now on, I won’t do things without discussing them with you first.”

  “Can I speak now?” she mouths behind my finger.

  “Yes.”

  “So, no more calling my mother without asking me?”

  I sigh. “Sara, I do that to make sure you’re safe. I couldn’t bare it if you…”

  “I know,” she says sadly. She exhales and puts her hands on her thighs. “My water is getting cold.”

  “Go take your shower then.” I move to the side so she can stand.

  *

  “I wanted to tell you earlier, but you were mad at me.”

  “With good reason,” she says, looking over at me. We’re hanging our white curtains in our bedroom. They smell like clean linens and are still damp from the wash. Sara wants them to dry while hanging so the room will smell good.

  “With good reason,” I repeat with an eye roll. “Anne, Chief Rogers’ wife, wanted to know if you were interested in a job down at the library. I told her I’d ask you. She said you could probably get paid under the table.” I chew the inside of my cheek, waiting for her to blow up. She looks back down at the curtain as she slides it onto the rod and sucks her bottom lip in.

  “All right,” she says after a moment. “I think it’ll be good.”

  “Really?” I
ask, shocked as hell.

  “Yes, I’ll give it a try.”

  “Okay,” I say, swallowing. “I’ll call Anne tomorrow.”

  She hands me the curtain rod, and I reach up and put it above the window.

  “Now,” she says, letting up the windows. “Let’s let the breeze dry them.”

  Chapter Four

  Cash

  Sweat slides down my back, and my muscles burn from overuse. I wipe my brow and pick up the hammer. Another nail goes into a new board, and I sit back on my heels. I look out at my wife who is working in her new garden.

  “How’s it going over there?” She’s in her green hat and a T-shirt that says something about coffee and don’t talk to me before. A long skirt covers her legs, and I know she is barefoot because she doesn’t like shoes. Her hands are covered in dirt even though she has garden gloves. She says she likes the feel of the cool soil between her fingers.

  “Hot,” she replies. “Want a break?”

  “Yes, I’ll grab us two beers. Come up on the porch.” I let the screen door shut behind me, and I see Sara sitting on the step as I walk over with two cold ones in my hands.

  “Didn’t wanna wash your hands?” I ask as I take a seat beside her and look down at the dirt under her nails.

  “Figured they were just going to get dirty again.”

  I smile. “You’ve got a point.” I twist the top off and give her one before I open mine, too.

  She swipes her hand in front of her face. “God dang bees.”

  “They’re just wood bees, baby. They won’t hurt you.”

  “I don’t want them flying in my face, though.”

  We both look up when someone pulls into the driveway.

  “Who is that?” Wood bee hater asks.

  “I don’t know.” I stand up just as a guy gets out of his truck, and I see it’s Mark from the hardware store.

  “Hey there, you two.”

  “What brings you out this way?” I ask, walking down the steps.

  “Oh, just wanted to see if I could give you a hand on this old house. I see you’ve been working?”

  “Yep.” I turn to look back at the porch. “Just replacing some old boards.”

  “Well, you wanting any help?”

  “I couldn’t put you out like that.”

  “You’d be doing me a favor. My wife has ten dogs at the house right now. Says she wanted to get them all bathed because they go to new homes tomorrow. Don’t know why she has to do it at our house. She works at the animal shelter downtown, always bringing pets home,” he says, shaking his head. I laugh and so does Sara.

  “I guess if you don’t mind, I’d probably get done a lot faster.”

  “Let me just grab my tool belt.” He walks back to his truck, and I take a sip of my beer.

  “Time to do man work, baby.” This makes her laugh.

  “Well, you get to it then.”

  “You down the rest of this beer for me.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She winks.

  *

  “What made you two want to move to a small town like Green Ridge?”

  “Just needed a change, is all. We grew up about thirty minutes from here, in a small town just like this one.”

  “Really, and y’all wanted to move to another? Man, my wife would love to leave here and move to the city. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard it.”

  “Sara wouldn’t care for the city.”

  “Why is that?” he asks. I lean up on my knees and run a hand over my face, feeling I need a trim soon. Truth is, Sara gets anxiety around too many people. Large crowds make her uncomfortable, and sometimes she has panic attacks. So we decided to pick a small town on the map not extremely far from home. We picked here and packed everything up. Sara’s mom almost killed me. She smothered my girl, and everyone saw it but her. But I don’t know this man enough to talk about my wife’s issues. Maybe one day I will.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine.” He reads my mind.

  “Just too crowded,” I say, grabbing another nail.

  “That’s exactly how I feel. Can’t get to know people when there are too many of them.”

  “You said your wife works at the animal shelter?” I ask, changing the subject.

  “Yeah, on Fifth Street. Been there since we graduated high school. She seems like a hard ass, but she’s a softy. Like I said, brings home stray animals all the damn time. Thankfully, she’s good at finding permanent homes for them or else we’d be overrun.” He laughs as he nails another board in. “You know, a tin roof would look good on this house. Something to think about for the future.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I say.

  *

  The sun starts to go down and the crickets start to chirp, so we pick up the old boards and Mark helps me load them onto the back of Old Blue to take off tomorrow.

  “Come on over to the house this weekend. We’ll get the grill out, and I’ll buy a few steaks to pay you for the work you helped me with today.”

  “Only if you let me do the grilling,” Mark says.

  “Deal.” I shake his hand, and he gets into his truck.

  “See y’all Saturday,” he says before he cranks it. I give him a wave goodbye and walk over to the ladder and fold it up before I head over to Sara.

  “You about done over here, girl?” I ask.

  “Yes, my fingers are filthy. I’ll never be able to get this dirt out from under my nails.”

  “Should have worn gloves.”

  “I don’t like to. You know that.” She goes to stand and makes a groaning noise. “I’m getting old, baby.”

  “Come on, you old lady.” I grab her and throw her over my shoulder. She laughs.

  “Cash, you’re all sweaty!”

  “You like it.” I smack her ass and haul her inside.

  *

  I draw small circles on my wife’s back as we lie in bed together. We’re shower clean and sleepy from a hard day’s work. We had breakfast for supper, and she is almost asleep. Tomorrow, I’ll take her to the library. I hope it goes well. She needs to meet new people, and she needs to have friends. I know it’s scary for her, but hopefully she can overcome her anxiety. She moves and snuggles down deeper into the covers.

  “You sleepy, baby?”

  “Hmm,” is all she can manage. I reach over, turn the lamp off, and pull her closer to me. I kiss her hair and close my eyes, letting the day finally come to an end.

  Chapter Five

  Cash

  I park the truck and look over at Sara. “You sure you’re going to be okay?” I ask, turning toward her.

  “Yes, Cash, I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up whenever you need me to.”

  She nods and her hand comes up to her lips. I see a small shake, but I don’t mention it. Asking someone about their panic attacks seems to make it worse, so I ignore the tremble in my girl’s fingers.

  “I’ll call you.” She leans over, and I give her a kiss before she opens the truck door.

  “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I watch her get out, and I don’t leave until she is inside.

  *

  Sara

  Tingles run up my spine and chase each other down my arms. They crawl up my neck and spread throughout my face, like a tiny needle pricking me. I swallow the rising panic and tell myself to breathe. It’s just a library, Sara. No one is even here. Calming down my racing heart, I try to suck in air, but it’s becoming a struggle. A cold sweat coats my back, and I feel it trickle down my skin.

  “Can I help you?” I hear and turn around to find a woman in a white blouse and blue jeans. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to pass out. Here, sit down.” She pulls out a chair, and I take a seat. “I’m getting you some water. Take deep breaths.”

  I try to do just that, focusing on one spot and willing my lungs to fill with air. She comes back with water, and I grab it from her to cool my throat. “Th
ank you,” I manage.

  “Sure.” She smiles, but it’s a worried smile. Her green eyes show kindness, and I get a sense of calmness as I look into them. My heartbeat slows, and my lungs work normally. The shaking in my hands stops, and I take a deep breath.

  “Feel any better?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I say, wiping my brow.

  “Good. You were having a panic attack?”

  “Yes.”

  She nods. “I used to get those all the time over the strangest things when I was pregnant.”

  “They do come at the worst times.” I take another sip of my water.

  “One time I had one at the Dairy Queen drive-thru because I couldn’t figure out what kind of ice cream I wanted.” She laughs, and I smile. “My name’s Maci.”

  Oh crap, now I’m extremely embarrassed.

  “I’m Sara.” I wince.

  “Oh, the Sara that Anne called about?”

  “Yep, panic attacks and all.” I look down at the floor, waiting to crawl into a black hole.

  “Please don’t think any more about that,” she says and I look up. She smiles. “It’s nice to meet you. Come on. Let me show you around.” She tucks a piece of her red hair behind her ear. “This place is old as dirt, but I think that’s what gives it character. It used to be a house way back when so we actually have a full kitchen here.” She points toward the back. “We host book fairs and try to encourage people to donate old books they no longer want. We also have reading time for the kids.” She shows me the area with big colorful pillows. “Our restroom has a small leak in the roof, so we try to keep a bucket on the floor. Don’t wanna make the floor bad, too. Mark says he’s going to fix it, but life gets busy. Have you met Mark and Leigh Phillips yet?”

  “I’ve met Mark, but not Leigh.”

  “Oh, Leigh is great, but watch out. She’ll try to send you home with a stray animal.” She laughs. “She works at the animal shelter downtown, always trying to give those babies a home.”

  “I’ve heard,” I say, smiling.

  “Mark must have told you.”

  “Yeah, he came over and helped my husband replace some old boards on our porch. Said Leigh had ten dogs at their house, and he had to get out of there.”

 

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