Serenity Falls

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Serenity Falls Page 12

by Aleman, Tiffany


  “Well, I think they’re awesome Mrs. Sandy,” Sarah replies while walking into the kitchen.

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that. All right y’all, breakfast is done. Come help yourselves.” Mrs. Sandy slips her apron off and hangs it on a hook next to the fridge.

  In seconds, the kitchen is full of people loading food onto their plates. We all banter back and forth, joke about not taking too much gravy, and laugh about how everyone needs to share the eggs. Wes gripes at Liam for taking too many slices of bacon, and as I reach for the last piece, Wes grabs it up, grins at me, and shoves half of it in his mouth. Two can play at that game. I reach up, snap off the other half, and take a bite. His eyes go wide in shock. I smile sweetly at him as I chew, then turn, and walk away.

  After we sit at the table and start to eat, Mrs. Sandy begins to speak. “So, this year, Will and I thought we’d do something a little different.” Once she sees that she has caught our attention, she continues. “This year we will be pairing Liam, Sarah, Jackie, and Kenleigh up to work with specific kids. The rest of y’all will be working with groups just like last summer. We’ve already assigned everybody. I only have one question, and that is how do y’all feel about this?”

  It’s quiet for a few minutes while we all ponder the idea. I lay down my fork and lean back in my chair. “Personally, I think it’s a great idea. It gives us more one on one time with the kids. Will we be changing kids every day?” I ask.

  “No. The child that you’re paired with will be with you for the duration of the camp. Listen, Will and I thought long and hard about this. We really believe this is a great idea for all of you. These kids are all special, and I think you can learn just as much from them as they can from you,” Mrs. Sandy answers as she looks at each of us. This is something she is certain of and really cares about.

  “Who do I have?” I ask with a smile. I know everyone else thinks this is a good idea, too. The thought is just a little intimidating since we’re used to working with a group of kids.

  “Okay, so, Kenleigh, you have Bailey. She’s a twelve-year-old girl who lost her seventeen-year-old brother in a car accident six months ago. They were very close, and her parents tell me her depression has gotten worse over the past couple of months. They’re hoping that this will help her return to her normal self.”

  I feel all of the blood drain from my face. The loud thudding in my ears drowns out all the sounds from everyone else. My heart stampedes like a herd of buffalo on the move. It’s as if I have been transported back in time. Back to the summer vacation home that we had in Conroe. Back to the fire. Back to the night that I watched my parents die. Black spots begin to cloud my vision. I want to scream, but I can’t breathe. The smell of burnt wood assaults me. I know this isn’t real. Horrid visions from that night hold me hostage. The insufferable pain that I felt years ago tears at my soul all over again. I do not want to feel the deep aching pain of being alone again. Acutely aware, I can feel myself moving. To where, I don’t know. “Kenleigh… what… hear… me…”

  It’s a man’s voice. Wes, I think. My head turns from side to side, as I try to make sense of what he’s saying, but the memories of my screams from that fateful night continue to drown him out. “Breathe… Listen to my voice… Breathe…. Come back to me, Kenleigh.”

  The whispers help me slowly return to the present. I’m no longer in the kitchen. I’m lying down in my bed with Wes hunched over me. “Breathe, Kenleigh; breathe. I’m here. I’m here for you. Just breathe,” he whispers softly in my ear. I smell the wonderful scent of his cologne, and my heart gradually starts to return to its normal pace.

  “What happened?” I whisper, as I take comfort in his gentleness.

  He pulls back and cages me in with his hands next to my head. Wes’ eyes search my face and his worried look makes me feel awful. “I could ask you the same thing,” he replies softly. “All of a sudden, you became really pale and looked like you were about to pass out. It scared the shit out of all of us. Just before you fell out of your chair and hit the floor, I caught you and brought you up here.”

  I turn away from him as my face heats with embarrassment. Of all the times for this to happen, it had to happen not only in front of Wes, but in front of everyone else, too. All too soon, I feel his fingers under my chin as he forces me to look at him. “Are you okay?”

  I cringe as I recall what just happened downstairs. “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe that just happened in front of the volunteers, your mom, you,” I whisper while I cover my face with my hands to hide my chagrin. “They’re going to ask questions, and I don’t have any answers to give them.” Tears well up in my eyes as I roll over onto my side and turn away from Wes.

  The bed dips and strong arms envelop me from behind. We lay like that for I don’t know how long. Wes just holds me, comforts me. He doesn’t push me to say talk. The death of my parents is not a memory I like to think about, let alone talk about. But I know, at the very least, that I owe him an explanation. People don’t almost pass out for no reason. I take a deep breath. My voice cracks and I have to swallow the ball of emotion lodged in my throat. “My parents died in a horrible house fire when I was twelve, and I had the unfortunate luck of having to watch it happen.” His arms squeeze me tighter to him as he inhales a sharp breath. “We were so close. We did everything together. My dad was my hero, and my mom was the one I turned to for everything. They were my best friends, and then, just like that, they were ripped away from me.” Warm tears glide effortlessly down my cheek, over my nose as they spill onto the pillow.

  “I know this doesn’t make up for the years of pain that you’ve suffered, because I have no idea what it is like to lose my parents, but I am so sorry you had to go through that. I won’t push you to talk to me about it, but I am here for you if you ever want to,” Wes whispers against my hair as he kisses the back of my head.

  “This is going to be too hard for me.” My voice comes just above a whisper.

  “You might be able to help this little girl, Kenleigh.”

  “How? How do you know that? You just saw what happened to me down there. The memory of what happened to my family is not something I like to relive, Wes.”

  “I don’t know how. But, I think with the both of you sharing something so personal, so similar, maybe you can help each other.”

  I turn over in his arm and hug him to me. Silently, we just lay there and hold each other. I let his words sink in. Maybe he is right. Maybe I can help her, and she can help me. The more I think about it, the more comforting the idea becomes. “Are you ready to go back downstairs?” he asks.

  I take a deep breath before I answer. “Yeah. I’m sure everyone is wondering what the hell just happened to me.”

  “Look at me please?” I lift my face to him and stare into his breathtakingly beautiful eyes. “Listen to me. You do not owe anyone an explanation.” His tone is soft. The corners of my lips tug into a slight grin as I nod. “Good. Now show me a genuine smile.”

  With the heaviness of what’s just happened drifting away, my eyes cross, and a wide smile showing the majority of my teeth spreads across my face.

  A boisterous laugh erupts from Wes. “Smartass.” He laughs and slaps my ass.

  Immediately, my funny face drops, and I smile a legitimate smile and revel in his good humor. “Thank you,” I murmur.

  “I told you before, and I’ll tell you again and again until you realize it, I will always catch you.” His eyes are soft and genuine, and in this moment, I can feel myself really falling for him. My hands glide up his solid arms, wrapping around his neck. Slowly, I pull his mouth down to mine and capture his lips. Neither one of us deepens the kiss. We don’t need to. His lips caress mine in a tender and soft, but at the same time, powerful way. It’s beyond perfect.

  Stepping outside onto the back porch, I search the grounds for Mrs. Sandy. Wes held my hand as we walked down the stairs, and squeezed it reassuringly. He knew when we left the room that I still wasn’t one hundred p
ercent better, but I pulled strength from his comfort. Just as we hit the bottom of the stairs, he pulled me into one last hug before releasing me. I’m certain Mrs. Sandy has her suspicions, but we’ve never confirmed anything to her. Although Wes and I slept together this past Friday night, we never discussed what that entailed for our relationship, or if there is one.

  Finally, I spot her by the barn, and wave in hopes that I’ll catch her attention. I run down the steps and across the yard to where she stands next to a young girl with long, wavy, auburn locks. I come to a stop right behind the girl when Mrs. Sandy says, “Oh, hey, Kenleigh. I want you to meet someone.” She puts her hand on the girl’s shoulder and introduces us. “This is Bailey.” Cautiously, the girl turns around.

  Big, blue eyes meet mine. The empty, hollow look is one I’m all too familiar with. A pang of hurt stings my heart when I realize that I can relate to this girl. I know what she’s been through—what she’s still going through. Bailey’s dark green T-shirt and denim jeans hang off her frail, pale frame. It’s as if I’m looking in a mirror, but instead of seeing my nineteen-year-old self, I see my old twelve-year-old self all over again. The only thing that separates us is the color of our hair.

  It’s a flashback of me when I walked into school on the first day of my eighth grade year. My clothes were two sizes too big. Everyone stared at me. I had even heard rumors that people thought I had an eating disorder. I didn’t care what they had to say; I let them believe whatever they wanted. My appetite was nonexistent after the death of my mom and dad. The only reason I ate was to appease my aunt. With a slight shake of my head, I banish those thoughts. I’m not twelve anymore. I have come too far, and I refuse to fall back into that crippling depression.

  “Hey Bailey. I’m Kenleigh.”

  “Hi,” she whispers as she casts her eyes toward the ground.

  “Are you excited about these next two weeks?”

  She doesn’t answer; instead, she shakes her head. I can remember feeling that way when I went to my first horse ranch, too.

  “Bailey here has never ridden before,” Mrs. Sandy says, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Oh.” I look up at Mrs. Sandy as she points her head toward the barn.

  “You wanna come with me?” I ask Bailey as I put my hand on her shoulder.

  She lifts her head and looks at me. “Where?”

  “To the barn. I have something I’d like to show you.”

  Her blue eyes slide from me to the barn and back to me as she sighs with reluctance. “Okay.”

  I turn to Mrs. Sandy and flash her a smile as I lead Bailey off to the barn.

  Volunteers and their assigned kids bustle all around the wooden structure. Voices and laughter fill the air. Jackie’s long blonde hair is high on her head ponytail that sways back and forth from the breeze sweeping through the barn. A boy, who looks like he’s probably between the ages of nine and ten, stands next to her with a pole in one hand and a brush in the other. He strokes the brush along one of the horses’ coats and talks animatedly with Jackie.

  Across from Jackie, Liam is kneeling next to a blond haired, young boy in a wheelchair in front of another stall. Liam points to one of the horses, and the young boy laughs. Sarah stands a ways down, her hand wrapped around a little girl with short, almost black hair. With her empty hand, Sarah eases her into petting the painted horse’s mane. Brantley’s gray eyes sparkle as he carries a bale of hay into Autumn’s stall and he smiles at some of the kids as they chase each other around. “You comin’ in here?” he asks me.

  “Yeah. Bailey, this is Brantley.”

  Brantley sets down the bale of hay in the corner of the stall. He pulls a glove off his hand, and sticks it out to shake hers.

  Bailey places her dainty hand in his. “Hello.”

  He smiles warmly at her. “It’s nice to meet you Bailey.” He turns his attention to me and adds, “I better go. I have like five more of these to get out of the truck.” He points at the bale of hay. “I’ll see you later, right?”

  “Of course,” I say as he walks out of the stall.

  “Why is this horse so fat?” Bailey asks with her eyebrows raised.

  I laugh. “First of all, her name is Autumn, and she’s pregnant.”

  “Oh. Explains a lot, I guess.” Bailey’s eyes rake over the stall with her lip curled up in disgust.

  “Did you not wanna come here? To the ranch, I mean.” I walk up to Autumn and pet her muzzle.

  “Why do you care?” Bailey snaps.

  I ignore her tone. I get it. She’s still hurting, and if her taking it out on me is what she needs, then I’ll deal with it for her. Autumn’s eyes find mine when I reply softly, “You and I have more in common than you think, Bailey.”

  “Why? Did your brother die too?” Her tone is sharp, and I can’t help but feel sorry for her.

  I turn my gaze to hers. “No. My parents did.”

  The past two days have been going great. Monday was a little rough with Bailey. If she wasn’t being quiet and standoffish, she had an attitude in just about everything she did. I’m not one to judge her though; I’ve been in her shoes. I remember how I used to snap at people, too, especially when I heard the words ‘I’m sorry’. Those two words don’t bring back someone you love. After the kids left Monday evening, we all met and discussed how the day had gone. Mrs. Sandy and Mr. Will said, with much enthusiasm, that the day had gone off with a bang. We went over Tuesday’s itinerary, and they complimented everyone on a job well done. Later that night, as I was getting ready for bed, Wes snuck into my room to check up on me. After my little episode that morning, we hadn’t seen each other for most of the day, and he wanted to know if I was all right. He wondered how my day had gone with Bailey. I just shrugged my shoulders and then went on to explain her reaction of having to come to the ranch, and how I understood why she felt the way she did. In a way, I think he did too.

  On Tuesday, Bailey showed up in better spirits. I’m not sure why, but I wasn’t going to complain. She seemed more interested in the horses and the different breeds they were. We had pulled a couple of them out of their stalls to walk around in the pasture. She wanted to ride one, but I explained that she needed to get more comfortable around them first. Earlier in the day, I offered her a carrot and asked if she wanted to feed Autumn. At first, she was hesitant and said that Autumn’s ‘huge teeth’, her words not mine, scared her. But after I told her, and with a lot of encouragement, that everything would be fine, she finally fed the beautiful brown and white Appaloosa. That was the first smile I had seen on her, and I was hoping to bring more to her young, delicate face.

  With the week almost halfway over, I wash my plate from breakfast and make my way outside. The Texas heat hits me full force as I step onto the porch. Just as I was finishing my breakfast, Mrs. Sandy told me that Bailey would arrive any minute. I look all around before I finally spot her. A smile splays across my face when I see her talking to John, Liam’s assigned child. But what makes my smile widen is whose hands are on the back of his wheelchair. Wes.

  I walk over to them. My heart beats faster when he looks up, and our eyes catch. He stands there in a pair of blue jeans and a black T-shirt that fits snug across his chest. I want so badly to reach out and touch him, but I won’t. We haven’t seen near enough of each other since camp started. As I approach Bailey, John, and Wes, broad smiles from all three greet me.

  “Where’s Liam?” I ask.

  “He needed to help Sarah with something in the barn, so I offered to take John to the corral,” Wes replies as he flashes me his award-winning smile.

  “Yeah. I was talking to Wes about helping me soup up my wheelchair later. What do you think, Bailey? We were talking about painting some flames on the back, you know, since I’m a speed racer in this thing,” John says, laughing. I laugh, too. It’s impossible not to. Even though he was diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy at the age of four, he’s gone through lots of therapy, and seven years later, he is still full of so much
joy.

  I watch the smile on Bailey’s face as she nods her approval. “I like that idea. Do you think I could help?” She looks between Wes and John.

  When I was finally able to meet Liam, Sarah, and Jackie’s kids on Monday afternoon, I made sure to introduce Bailey. At first, she just stood there with her head hung down, not saying a word. But John was relentless and eventually got her to open up. “Heck, yeah. Wait, can you paint flames?” Wes asks, his eyebrows raised in Bailey’s direction.

  “Of course, I can. Art was always my favorite subject. I drew and painted all the time. One time, I entered this contest for my county. Whoever won first place was able to have their work displayed in the town hall.”

  My heart swells at the fact that she is opening up. I know this is not easy for her, but I like it.

  “I drew this picture of my brother at one of his football games. He was standing on the field next to the ref, waiting for the coin to be tossed. I was always so proud of him. He always had this look on his face while he waited to see what fate the coin would produce. He cradled his helmet tightly under his arm. I just knew I had to get the image down on paper.” The look on her face is the one a little girl who adored her big brother.

  Wes squeezes the top of John’s shoulder. “Okay. I think since Bailey here seems to be a pro in the art world, and I can’t draw for shi—nothing, she should help you.”

  “You don’t wanna help?” Confused, John looks up over his shoulder at Wes.

  “I do, but I don’t want to mess up your wheels man. You don’t wanna be cruising around in this thing with what I think looks like flames, but actually look like ribbons, do you?”

  John’s eyebrows dip in concentration, before his face lights up with a wide smile. “No. You’re right. Plus, I can’t pick up girls if I have ribbons running along the sides and back of my wheelchair.”

  Wes lets out a boisterous laugh. “Girls? Dude, girls are trouble.”

  “Maybe. But I still like ‘em.” John shrugs his shoulders.

 

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