Heart and Home

by Jennifer Melzer

  “Don’t worry, Becky,” I muttered, reaching my arm around her and leaning in close. “He’ll be okay.”

  “I know,” she nodded, and offered a thankful smile. I noted a hint of glassiness in her eyes, and she seemed to blink a few extra times to hide it. “I just hate it when they’re sick, you know. You feel so helpless.”

  I didn’t know what else to say, so I just held her until we arrived at her house about ten minutes later. “Do you want me to stay and help out or anything?” I asked.

  “No, that’s okay. Thanks though,” she slid out of the truck. “I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know.”

  “Okay.” I started to unbuckle my lap-belt so I could slide into her seat.

  “I am really glad we got the chance to spend some time together, Janice.”

  “Me too.”

  She leaned to the right, peering into the truck, “Thanks so much for the ride home, Troy.”

  “You bet, Becky. Take care.”

  While we waited for her to get inside, I scooted over into Becky’s set and strapped the shoulder harness across my chest. As much as I enjoyed sitting so close to Troy, I really didn’t want him to get the wrong idea, even if I didn’t have a clue what that wrong idea was myself. Becky turned at the door and waved again before slipping into the house, and then Troy pulled away from the curb.

  The silence made the cab of the truck seem empty, but there was a tension there too, and I wasn’t sure if it was coming from Troy or me. He had already driven several blocks before I said, “I hope her little boy’s okay.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “I can’t even begin to imagine being responsible for someone else’s life like that.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he pressed his back into the seat behind him and relaxed a little. “You seem to be taking care of things for your dad just fine. I bet you weren’t expecting that at all?”

  “No, but it’s not the same.”

  “Sure, it is.” He insisted. “It’s like the tables turn and we can’t help ourselves, even if they don’t want us to take care of them.”

  The headlights from an oncoming car made my head ache as I stared into them. “Your mom doesn’t want you to take care of her?”

  “Hell no,” he laughed. “In fact, she’d probably be happier if I’d let her check into one of those assisted living communities so she could have her freedom.”

  “But you don’t let her because you want to take care of her?”

  “It’s what my dad wanted me to do.” I glanced across the truck at him and studied the hard look he tried to wear to keep me from guessing what he was really thinking and feeling.

  “He asked you to take care of her before he passed away?”

  “I came home from school and went straight to the hospital, and it was like he’d waited for me.” I realized then that maybe the hard look wasn’t distance, so much as it was painful for him to remember. “God, he’d been mad at me for so long over that damn football scholarship.” A sigh escaped him, and I noticed a tightness in his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel. “Said I was vain and selfish, thinking only of myself, and maybe I was, but you know how it is when you’re young and full of dreams. I had to get out of here and see if the world really was round.”

  I laughed, “It isn’t.”

  “Maybe not.” I was surprised to see the tight muscles in his face soften into a grin. “In retrospect it seemed just as flat out there as it is back here, but that’s something we all need to find out on our own. My daddy thought his word should have been enough to convince me. And as he lay there dying he made me promise him that I’d take care of my mom and his farm because our family fought too long and too hard to keep that farm, and he wasn’t gonna let me piss it all away on some useless college education and a pigskin promise.”

  There was a lump in my throat, the kind that came with tears, and I swallowed hard against it.

  “You don’t need a diploma to work the land. All you need is common sense and your own two hands.”

  “Troy…” but there were no words. I couldn’t even begin to imagine my parents not supporting my decisions about college, even if they never did lead to a worthwhile career in the end. But to have all of my dreams washed away by someone else’s pride and plans—it made me feel sick inside. Even worse, it made me feel guilty that my own parents were so supportive.

  “I tried go against him, and hired help here on the farm, but my mom had an accident getting up the stairs and I just couldn’t go back again. It was like I heard his voice everywhere I turned.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” the look he cast across the space between us was soft, but the whole thing broke my heart.

  Before an awkward silence swept in to stifle the rest of the ride, I asked the first thing that popped into my head, “So, what were you going to school for?”

  “Architecture.”

  “Wow.”

  I thought he laughed, but couldn’t be sure, as another car passed us, and the headlights were blinding. “I guess we’re both full of surprises.”

  “No, it’s not that,” I studied his profile in the shadows and wondered in a moment of tipsiness how he managed to keep that perfect shadow of stubble that made me want to reach out and take his face in my hands, to brush my cheek against his in a hurry to find his mouth with mine. I was sure the next car to pass us would reveal the obvious blush that darkened my face. “I mean, I guess it’s just sad that you never got to finish.”

  “It’s done now.”

  “But don’t you think you might like to go back if you got the chance?”

  “You know,” a mischievous smile lit up his face, “for a girl I could hardly get to talk to me this last week, you sure do ask a lot of questions.”

  “I talked to you,” I protested. “Every time I saw you.”

  “Yep, you did,” he nodded in agreement. “But it was like you were afraid you might get cooties or something.”

  “Oh God,” I dropped my head back onto my shoulders and stared at the ceiling of the truck. “I should have seen that coming.”

  His grin was amazing, and while I knew it was the alcohol talking, I found myself wishing I hadn’t moved over into Becky’s seat. His deep admission about his father and now this blatant teasing was making me feel far too close to him, and I wanted to intensify that feeling with a physical presence.

  Definitely the alcohol.

  “If you really thought I’d never bring it up again, you were sorely mistaken.”

  “I was obviously delirious from having just fainted.” I pointed out.

  “Speaking of which, you haven’t had any other spells like that since, have you?”

  Strange, I noticed as I looked out the window we were passing by the abandoned Sonesville Standard building when he asked. The tingling numb of alcohol dulled my senses, but my failure to respond quickly roused his suspicions.

  “Janice?”

  “Just once after that,” I said.

  “Have you been to see a doctor?”

  “I didn’t really see any need to, I mean, I didn’t pass out that time. I just got that same weird feeling like I might pass out.”

  “You’re not worried that it might be something serious?”

  “It passed this last time, so I didn’t think it was anything to worry about. Probably just stress.”

  “You’re not on any weird drugs or anything like that, are you?”

  My resentment at his insinuation scraped across the back of my throat in a scoff even he heard. “What kind of question is that?”

  “I don’t know, I just asked. I mean people don’t just faint like that for no good reason.”

  “Well, I’m not some big freaking drug-addict if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “No, that’s not even what I meant.”

  “Whatever.” I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out the window wondering how a single ride home could be so emotional and nerve-wr
acking.

  “Now you’re mad.”

  “Well of course I’m mad! You think I’m a junky.”

  “They do still call prescription pills drugs these days, don’t they?”

  “Well either way, I’m not on anything.” Except birth control, but I didn’t see any need to mention that.

  He turned onto Main Street, and we traveled toward the end of town where my family’s house was set apart from the other houses on our block, like we had our own private section of the street with a huge yard that my mother loved more than anything in the world. She gardened every year in such a way that everyone walked by the house nightly just to admire her green thumb. Now the thought of coming up on the wilting eight-foot sunflower stalks that hugged the perimeter made me feel sick. There were only a few moments left of our ride together, and the thought that it could end so badly made my stomach shift in nervous agony.

  “You know, I’m gonna be honest and admit that I don’t know what I planned, but this is certainly not how I envisioned this whole giving you a ride home thing.”

  “No?”

  “No ma’am.”

  “Maybe it’s me,” I said. “I did have a lot to drink tonight, and on top of all those drugs I must take...”

  He reached for the turn signal, the lighted arrow flashing right as he prepared to turn. I could see his mouth tighten just before he said, “I should have seen that coming.”

  What was I doing? I hated to admit to myself that I liked the attention he was paying to me. It was the most real attention I’d gotten from a man in months—years maybe. A psychiatrist would probably say I was just trying to fill some void left by my mother’s death, and maybe they’d be right. Troy was safe, a long line back into the comfort and safety of the town I’d sworn off until the day I died.

  On the other hand, who was to say he really even wanted anything of the kind from me? Maybe I’d misread the subtle signals he was sending. Maybe he was just a nice guy trying to look out for a stupid girl who couldn’t stand up straight since her mother died.

  Emotion moved through me like a tingling spell and my eyes welled up with tears. God, what was wrong with me? Surely it was the stress of losing my mom, and probably the alcohol, but there was no way I was going to break down like some psychotic nutjob, not in front of him. Especially after he’d just questioned my sobriety. I turned my face toward the window and blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay, drawing in several deep breaths to calm myself.

  We were almost there, I could cry at home.

  The sound of the turn signal ate away at the silence as he turned left onto my street. I looked forward, and the house loomed in the distance. I just wanted to get out of that truck and run for shelter before I embarrassed myself any more than I already had, but as though he had some kind of insight into my ditch and run plan, he spoke before we reached the curb.

  “Janice, look,” he started as I reached for the release on the seatbelt. “I didn’t mean to insult you, or even insinuate that you were on drugs.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Troy, no harm done.” I clicked the button and the seatbelt slid across my chest.

  He was obviously frustrated, judging from the quick release of his breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he muttered. “I mean, it’s not like I do this every day.”

  “Really, Troy, it’s fine. Thanks for the ride home.” I reached for the door handle.

  “Janice, wait,” my hand paused in mid-clutch. “Look, this isn’t how I imagined giving you a ride home because what I really was hoping…” he paused, trying to find the right words. I looked across the truck, the dim streetlamp cast shadows over his face. “I wanted a chance to ask if I could see you again before you leave town again.”

  He leaned in toward the steering wheel, the shadows moving off of his face. It would have been much easier to resist if he hadn’t hit me with those amazing eyes. Yes, I wanted to see him again, but I also wanted to turn and run so fast and so far.

  “I don’t know, Troy. I don’t have any place in my life for complications right now, I mean…”

  “It’s just dinner,” he said. “Nothing complicated, I swear.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on,” he urged, that grin of his stretching across his face. “Everybody eats. We’ll just eat together and see how it goes from there.”

  I drew in a breath and held it for a moment. Releasing it made me feel a little light-headed, but I hid the instability by leaning into the door. “Okay,” I gave in.

  “Really?”

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt too much.”

  “It won’t hurt at all, I promise.” He grinned again, and this time I shook my head. “How about I pick you up around six-thirty tomorrow night?”

  “I’ll be ready,” and probably still hungover, I realized. “Thanks for the ride home.”

  “Anytime.”

  I released the door handle and nearly stumbled out of the truck. I was about to close the door when I wondered if there wasn’t something more that I should say. I lingered for a second, and then closed the door. I turned toward the house and noted that there was a light on upstairs. The peeled back curtain snapped closed and I shook my head. Great, now I’d have to face my dad while I was drunk. I couldn’t think of a single instance that I’d been drunk in front of either of my parents, and I certainly wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Troy waited at the curb, watching until I reached the door. I jammed my key into the lock and turned the knob before turning to wave at him. His shadow lifted a hand in goodbye, and I slipped into the house, relocking the door. Leaning against it, I listened to the sound of his truck turning around, and then taking off into the night.

  I passed by the light Dad left on in the living room and turned it off, then slipped in through the kitchen and turned off the light above the sink. I headed toward the steps, and stumbled backward when I looked up and saw my mother standing at the top of the staircase in her nightgown. Only even as it was her, it wasn’t. Surrounded in a bright, white light, the fabric of her gown moved against some otherworldly wind as she reached a hand out toward me. Her lips moved, but I couldn’t make out or hear what she was saying. Pressed against the wall, I shook my head and closed my eyes tight against the impossible.

  “This is not happening,” I insisted as my heart drummed madly in my chest. “There’s no one up there.”

  When I looked up the stairwell again, I was right. There was no one there, but a strong scent of lavender filled the cool air and drifted down the stairs to meet me, along with a faint feeling that made me grip the banister. I thought I’d sobered up some on the ride home, but apparently not. I studied the top of the staircase, my knees trembling as I started to climb toward the top. I could hear my father’s snoring as I neared the landing, and my already racing heart sped up as I realized that if he was asleep, it was someone else looking out the window.

  The lavender aroma was strong in the place she stood only moments before, and the air there was cold as ice. I moved through that space and looked back down the stairs before I moved toward the bathroom. Dad’s door was closed, but the door to the sewing room was a jar, and the light was on. My stomach clenched tight as I moved toward that room, and when I pushed the door slowly opened, I half expected to come face to face with ghost I knew for certain I’d seen just moments before. The room was empty, much to my relief. I turned off the light and closed the door before finishing my journey to the bathroom.

  Once behind the closed door, I splashed cold water onto my face, but no matter how many times I splashed in hopes of bringing some kind of sense or sobriety to myself, I couldn’t get the image of her out of my mind. Drying my face, I finished up in the bathroom and stepped back out into the hallway. I almost fell over when I saw the door to the sewing room wide open, and the light on. I didn’t go near it again, but instead scampered toward my bedroom in hopes that I could hide from the fact that I was losing my mind. Behind the closed door, I clicked on
the lamp and flopped down onto the edge of the bed and tried to make sense of what I was seeing.

  If it was my mother’s spirit haunting the house, why hadn’t she moved on? Was she trying to tell me something? Had my dad seen her, or was I just losing my mind?

  All I wanted to do was slip into the comfort of home and try to figure out this Troy situation, but I couldn’t even daydream about him as I curled up in bed, still dressed in the clothes I’d worn to go out.

  Paranoid and scared that at any moment the ghost of my mother was going to come walking through the wall into my bedroom, I lay wide-eyed in my bed with the light on until uneasy sleep finally overtook me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I was standing in the middle of a field at dusk with no sense of direction and a hefty helping of panic thumping on my heart. I had already been running, but no matter how far I ran there was no end to the seven foot tall rows of golden stalk and brittle leaf. Musty damp and rotting plant life mingled with the rich scent of earth, and the chill in the air made my lungs so heavy I could hardly catch my breath. To make matters worse, the sun was rising in the eastern sky, but a thick fog rolled in to obscure an already hopeless path.

  There was a whisper on the wind, my name spoken by an unforgettable voice.

  “Mom,” that desperate word echoed in fading circles off of the nearby foothills. I turned in search of the source, but it diminished, only to be replaced by a new voice.

  “Janice,” her voice rippled through the rustling stalks. “Janice? Where are you?”

  “Hello?” My call wrought silence from the drenched air that seeped into my clothes and chilled me to the bone. “Is there someone out there? Mom? Anyone? Hello?”

  It started as a faint rustling of dry leaves, and then it drew closer. I’d seen enough horror movies to know that whatever was on the other end of that movement was probably not going to be good. I turned and started to run away, directionless and filled with fear. My feet pounded the earth so hard I could no longer distinguish their rhythm from my own heartbeat.