“I will in a little bit.”
*
After everyone leaves, I walk up the steps and into the bedroom, thinking Sara will be lying down, but she isn’t. I hear water running, and I walk into the bathroom.
“Sara!” I yell as I run over and pull her out of the water. “Fucking hell, baby.” I stand her on her feet and grab a towel. She’s out of it, and I see her hands shaking. I kiss her forehead and wrap the towel around her, pulling her close to me. “Sara, what were you doing?”
“I was trying to cut out the noise. It’s so loud in my head,” she says as she starts crying.
“Let’s get out of these wet clothes and we can lie down together for a bit.”
She agrees and I help her undress. She shakes and I’m not sure it’s from being cold or she’s just scared.
I pull a nightgown down over her head and move the covers back so she can get under. I lie down beside her and wrap my arms around her back.
“I love you, baby.”
“Promise?” she asks quietly.
“Promise, promise,” I whisper as I kiss her hair and pray to God she never leaves me on purpose.
*
Sara
Darkness. Black everywhere inside and out. The hardwood floor presses against my bare knees, and I stare at nothing. My mind races with scary thoughts, and I can’t seem to pinpoint on just one. I lean over and tears I didn’t even know were in my eyes fall out and hit the floor. I look up and wipe my face, rocking back and forth and wondering why I even bother to breathe. It hurts. “It hurts,” I whisper to the darkness.
*
A week has flown by, and I’ve seen nothing but these walls. I’m tired all the time, yet I can’t sleep, so I sit on the front porch and watch the fireflies at night. Cash constantly watches me. I want to scream at him to stop. Stop watching me. Stop looking at me. Stop beating, you stupid heart.
*
I think about dying a lot because I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of being tired, but not sleeping. I’m tired of my racing thoughts, and I’m tired of watching fireflies. I grab the knife and put it up against my wrist. Pressing down, I watch as red spills over my pale skin. I fall to my knees and close my eyes and wait for it to be over.
“Baby! Oh God, Baby, baby.” I hear my heart speaking, but I can’t feel its beats. My eyes won’t open, and blackness finally takes me over. I smile on the inside because the pain will finally be over.
*
I roll over and slowly open my eyes. They find Cash, and I sigh lightly and rest my face against the palm of my hand. Seeing the bandages around my wrist, a sickness sinks inside my chest and I look away. The sun shines through the window and makes his dark hair look golden brown. I look at the wedding ring on his finger and then look for mine. It rests where it should, and I twirl it around as the nurse walks in.
“You’re awake,” she whispers, seeing that Cash is fast asleep.
I smile, feeling better than I have in a long time. “We have balanced out your medications and set you up with a psychiatrist, but the doctor will be in to tell you all of that. I’ll let you rest and see you later on.”
“Thanks,” I say before she walks out. I turn back around and see my husband’s brown eyes looking at me.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Hey,” I reply.
“How are you feeling?”
“Just a little tired,” I say as he stands up and stretches.
“Move over. I’m getting in with you.”
I smile and move over as far as I can. He lies down, and I rest my head on his chest, hearing the beat of his heart.
“I love you and I’m sorry,” I tell him.
“Please don’t leave me,” he says.
“I won’t do it again.”
“Promise?” he asks.
“Promise, promise.”
Chapter Eight
Six Year Anniversary
Sara
This year flew by with changes of medication and tons of therapy visits. Most days I feel somewhat normal or more balanced out I should say, because really what is normal? Like all small towns, word got around about my suicide attempt, but the looks have stopped and most people have been very supportive. My wrist has healed, but the scar remains. It’s deep and ugly, reminding my husband and me that I almost left him. My therapist, Dannie, suggested I keep a journal and write my feelings down every day, so I try to do that. Unfortunately, my medication makes me sleepy and also less creative in life, but we can’t always get what we want. Maci totally understood and let me come back to work as soon as I was ready.
I look over as a pile of books get knocked down. “Shit.” I hear Maci curse.
“Everything okay over there?”
“Yeah, just stacked them too high,” she calls out. I walk over and see books surrounding the girl I now call my friend. Red hair falls into her face, and her green eyes look up at me. I laugh.
“Let me help you,” I offer. She picks up the fallen books, and I see a bruise on her arm. “Get that just now?”
She looks down at her arm and then back at the books in her hand. “I bruise so easily I have no idea where it came from.” I’d believe this except she always has bruises, and Lucas is a complete ass to her.
“Yeah, I bruise easily, too, but you always seem to have those.”
She looks up at me again and shrugs. “I’m careless.”
“And I don’t have manic depression,” I throw back at her. She sighs.
“You trying to get at something here?”
“Just worried, is all. If I was showing signs of being on a high, wouldn’t you call me out?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then.”
“So, what’s your point?”
“My point is, that son of a bitch better not be putting his hands on you.” Maci blinks at me, and I instantly feel bad. “Look, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the way he talks to you, and it worries me. I know he is your husband—”
“That’s right. He is my husband and the man I love. Please don’t talk about him again.”
I bite my lip and look down. “I’m sorry. I won’t say another word about it.” I pick up the rest of the books and walk back over to the desk.
*
The summertime sun is high in the sky today, and I lie back on my float and lightly strum my fingertips over the pool water. A horsefly flies by, and I look up at the small amount of clouds.
“Have you read that book I was telling you about yet?” Leigh asks me as we float mindlessly and soak up some rays.
“I finished it last night. It was good.”
“It was,” she agrees as she grabs ahold of the end of my float so we stay connected. I look over at her.
“Do you think Lucas is beating Maci?” I ask. I haven’t spoken to anyone about this, not even Cash because I don’t want to put it out there. But I’m getting concerned for my friend, and I’m starting to wonder if he is the reason they lost their child.
“Sometimes that thought crosses my mind. Why do you ask, though?”
“It crosses mine, too.” I block the sun from my eyes. “I’ve implied it to her, and she got super defensive. Which I understand—that’s her husband, but I just think something more is going on there. He treats her like shit.”
“Well, no one can do anything unless she wants it done,” Leigh says, shaking her head. “It’s best to just not mention it unless she does.”
I sigh and rest my head back. “Guess I won’t again.”
*
I pull the string on my bikini top and let it fall to the floor. Looking at myself in the mirror, I see I got some sun today and now have a tan line. Cash walks in behind me and lifts his brow. “Got a severe tan line there.”
“That I do.” I turn the water on and wait for it to warm.
“How was your day?”
“Good,” he says, walking over to me. He kisses my mouth, and I smell beer.
“You and the boys go by Banner’s?”
“How’d you guess?”
“You smell like beer.” He kisses my neck, and I feel his fingers skim across my lower back. “Want to have a quickie?”
“Yes,” I breathe as his hand ventures low, and he removes my bottoms. He lightly runs his hand over me, and I lean back against the wall.
“I love you,” he murmurs as he takes my lips again. His tongue dances with mine, and a moan creeps up from my chest. I hear his pants go, and in another move he has my thigh lifted and he is inside me. I grip onto his shoulders as he presses forward. Steam takes over the bathroom, and sweat drips down my back.
“God, baby,” he breathes. “I fucking love the way you feel.” He clutches my leg and I pull him closer, pressing my ankle into his backside. As he goes deeper, I close my eyes. I’m awed by the love he gives me, and each time he shows me, my heart beats stronger, my mind gets clearer, and my soul begs to become one with his. I love this man more than my lungs love air, and as he comes undone, I tell him over and over.
“Happy anniversary,” he murmurs over my lips.
“Happy anniversary.”
*
A bandana covers my eyes, and I’m directed out of the house. “Now, don’t freak out on me,” Cash says.
“Well, now I am,” I counter. “What in the world have you done?”
“It’s an anniversary gift, for both of us,” he says. “Stand right here.”
I inhale and get anxious as I wait for him to let me see.
“Cash,” I say impatiently.
“One second,” he says, standing me where he wants me before he lets my arms loose and I’m left alone. I listen as I hear his footsteps going down the porch.
“Okay, look.”
Reaching up, I pull the bandana off, and my eyes find him. They grow big, and I step forward. “What in the hell is this?” I ask, smiling.
“I bought us a motorcycle, baby.”
“You bought this thing?”
“Yep, so we can go riding on our days off.” I walk down the steps and over to him. “It’s got some age on it, but I got it at a good price, and I’ve had it looked at and tuned up. It’s good to go.” He grabs two helmets from the back. “Let’s take her for a ride.” He places the helmet on my head and kisses my lips. I grin like a kid who just got out of school for the summer before I hop on the back. The engine vibrates under me, and Cash tells me to hold on. I wrap my arms around his waist as he puts her in first. We circle around, and he shifts gears as we head down the old country road that needs to be repaved. My fingertips hardly touch each other, but I hold on tight as the wind tosses my hair. I smile as a feeling of freedom washes over me and I get brave. I release my hold from Cash and spread my arms out wide. Cool evening air brushes over my skin, and I close my eyes and lean my head back slightly, feeling the warmness against my face from the sunshine, thinking this is what flying must feel like. I hold on again as he goes faster and we head toward no certain destination, but after all, this is simply about the ride.
*
“I want to learn how to drive it,” I say after our showers. We’re lying on the living room rug with popcorn and candy.
“Okay, I’ll teach you.”
“Teach me now,” I say, jumping up.
“It’s dark out.”
“So?”
“So it’s dangerous. I’ll teach you this weekend.”
“Cash, I really wanna do it now.”
“Sara,” he warns.
“This isn’t some stupid trigger. I just want to learn how to drive the fucking motorcycle,” I say, rolling my eyes at him. He narrows his.
“You’re being impatient. You’re snapping on me, and you think this isn’t a trigger?”
“Fuck you,” I say, standing up and walking away. I climb the stairs two at a time and slam the door shut behind me. Everything is a fucking trigger to him. Can’t I simply be in a bad mood? Can’t I be upset without it having to do with my disorder? I grab the basket of unfolded clothes and dump them onto the bed. I sigh as my mind tells me what is true. You can’t just be upset. You’re not normal. Your mood swings are extreme, and you do have triggers. I toss the clothes to the side and sit down on the bed. The door opens, and I look up. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too,” he says, taking a seat beside me. “I shouldn’t think every one of your moods is more than just a mood.”
“No, you should. It is what it is,” I say, moving my hair out of my face.
“You will learn to drive the bike. I promise.” He grabs my hand and links our fingers. I look over at him and laugh.
“What?”
“You’ve got popcorn in your beard.”
“Get it.”
I reach up and pick it out. He eats it from my hand.
“Eww.”
“Why is that eww?” he asks, chewing on the popcorn.
“’Cause it’s beard popcorn.”
“Beard popcorn is the best, woman. Don’t you know?” He grins.
“No, I don’t.”
“Here, let me show you.”
“No,” I say, trying to loosen his hold on my hand.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from your beard.”
He holds my hand tighter, and I fall back as he climbs on top of me, bringing his beard down to my face and rubbing it all over me.
“You’re scratching up my face.” I giggle as he starts to tickle me. Placing my palm onto the bed, I try to move up and out from under him. I twist in his arms, but this only makes him do it more and hold me tighter. “Cash,” I say as he tortures my sore hips. “Stop.” I laugh uncontrollably and wiggle more. He quickly plants his mouth on mine, and I smile underneath his lips. My legs fall open, and he settles. I feel him grow hard beneath me, and I moan when he presses forward. “Make me feel good,” I tell him, and he lifts my dress and all play leaves the room as he thrusts into me. I claw at his back, and he grabs onto the headboard, fucking me until I cry out and he goes still. Our unfolded clothes lie under us, wrinkled to hell and back, and I look over at him. He is the most beautiful thing. He is mine, and sometimes I can’t believe it.
Chapter Nine
Cash
“Now, Mrs. Kingsley, you can’t keep throwing stuff at Mr. Kingsley. One of these days you’re going to hurt him.”
“Cash, stop calling me Mrs. Kingsley. I’ve done told you my name is Elizabeth. And I don’t throw anything at the dummy that would hurt him. Joe’s just a big ol’ baby,” she huffs and puts her hands on her hips.
“Oh, I’m a big baby,” Joe says. “What about you yesterday when you didn’t get to watch your soaps because the cable went out?”
“The damn cable went out because you didn’t pay it!”
“You get a job then and pay the shit. I don’t even watch it!”
“You are the one who told me not to get a job, you God dang donkey!” She picks up a pillow from the couch and goes to smack him in the face, but I stop her.
“Mrs.—”
“Cash, if you call me Mrs. one more time, I’m going to hit you with this pillow.”
I hold up my hands. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. Please, put the pillow down. Now, you two love each other. You have to stop this fighting. Maybe if you stopped drinking that would help.”
“We don’t have a drinking problem,” they both say at the same time, which tells me that’s exactly what they have.
“Right,” I counter, looking at empty bottles. “Do I need to take one of you in so you can cool off?”
“No,” they both say.
“Well, I need you to make up then right here, right now.”
“We can’t do that with you watching!” Elizabeth says.
“I mean, say you’re damn sorry, so I can get on my way.”
“Oh, right.” She blushes, and Joe smiles at her.
“You’re always cute when you blush.”
This makes her blush more. I step toward the door, and she puts the pillow down.
“I’m sorry
for calling you a dummy,” she says.
“I’m sorry for getting the cable cut off.”
I don’t hear the rest as I shut the door and head back to my truck. I look over at Ben when I get in. He spits a sunflower seed out the window.
“How’d it go?” he then asks me as he pours more seeds into his mouth.
“I’m sure we’ll be called back over here in a few days,” I answer. He smirks, and I start the truck.
*
A green hat comes into view as I pull up to our house. It’s late afternoon, and the sun is low, but my sunshine is watering her sad flowers. I park the truck and jump out.
“Hey, baby,” she says, tossing the water hose to the side. She runs over to me, and I catch her when she jumps into my arms. She kisses my mouth, and I breathe her in––warm sunshine and water hose water. She lets go of my lips and smiles down at me. “How was your day?”
“Better now,” I tell her. She laughs, and I walk us over to the waterspout, shut the water off, and climb the steps with her still in my arms. She takes her hat off and throws it onto the couch as we pass it.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Away,” I say.
“Away?” she questions on a laugh.
“Yes, under the covers and deep inside our bed.”
She smiles. “As long as I’m surrounded by you, I don’t care.”
*
Sara walks out of the bathroom in a pale green dress and wedges. “How does this look?”
“You look good.”
She has on makeup, and her eyes shine bright. She looks beautiful, and I kiss her cherry-colored lips.
“Let’s go dancing,” she says.
*
Music from the band plays from the stage, and Sara grabs my hand and twirls around me. She joins our fingers and laughs as she dances. Her curls are wild, and her smile is infectious. I grab her close to me, and she puts her hands on my face, kissing me like no one is here, like we are the only ones on Earth. Her hands move to my hair, and she slowly runs over it, smiling at me like I’m the only thing that matters. I feel it in my chest, and I love the light in her eyes.
Chasing Fireflies Page 6