by Ivy Jordan
Selfishly, I decided.
“No,” I said softly without making eye contact.
My heart raced knowing there was one more question. I wasn’t sure what to expect. What did you do? Who are you running from? Whose blood was on your clothes? Those were all expected, but instead, he’d only asked how I was, if I’d run, and now what? Would this be the hard question?
My heart pounded against my chest hard as I looked up into his eyes. I was scared, but a small part of me relieved to get it over with…just ask.
“Do you need anything?” Luke’s third question stunned me.
I looked down at the large sweatpants and t-shirt I was wearing, and then back up at Luke.
“I never made it to the store for supplies the other night. That’s where I was heading when I…when I saw you. And food, we need food. I’m sure there’s something you’d prefer to eat than what I’ve given you. Maybe some personal things you need,” he rambled nervously.
I was fine wearing his clothes, although something that fit me better would be nice. The food, I didn’t care. What he made was fine. I hadn’t had much of an appetite lately anyhow. The mention of personal items was where he got me. Deodorant that didn’t smell like a pine tree, a toothbrush, some lotion for my dry skin, and a hairbrush all sounded amazing.
“Yes,” I agreed.
Luke smiled and then reached for a small notepad on the table that had a pen pushed through the coil springs that bound the paper.
“Write down anything you want, unless, of course, you’d like to go with me?” he offered, sliding the notepad in my direction.
It was getting late, and the sky was growing dark, but I still didn’t want to risk being seen. I’d stay here, in the safety of Luke’s home, a place where no one knew where I was or had any way of finding me.
I shook my head as I took the notepad, and pulled the pen from the tight coils. Luke nodded, as if he understood, and got up from the table.
“I’ll bring us back dinner. You’re probably sick of my cooking. What would you like?” he asked.
“I’d kill for a burger and a Pepsi,” I gasped, watching Luke’s eyes widen as I spoke.
Shit. Kill…with all that blood that wasn’t mine, and questions unanswered, unasked, that was a stupid comment I wished I could swallow back down my throat.
“Okay. A burger and a Pepsi it is,” Luke replied, a slightly nervous chuckle to his tone.
I blushed, still feeling stupid for the comment. What did he think of me?
I pushed my head down, quickly writing the items that I needed from town on the paper he’d provided.
Luke grabbed a set of keys hanging on a wooden hook by the door and then Took the paper I handed him. I watched as his lips curled into a warm smile.
“You’re safe here,” he said softly.
I nodded. I was safe for now. That would change. I would never truly be safe. It was nice to pretend for a moment, so I smiled.
Chapter 5
Luke
Theo was more than understanding about the situation I was in. Candace was an unexpected distraction, and she had taken me away from my work. He agreed that I’d work a half-day in the morning, and then would start my counseling sessions next week. I was still finding my bearings at the ranch, learning names, and finding my place, and I’d hate to lose my position before I even really got started. This couldn’t go on forever, but for now, it was my duty to care for Candace.
“You sure you’ll be okay here alone?” I asked, reluctantly standing at the front door.
I had the list she’d written out in my left hand and my truck keys in my right. I didn’t want to leave, but I knew I had to sooner or later.
“I’m sure,” Candace smiled weakly.
Her color was starting to come back, adding a nice rosy glow to her cheeks where they’d been pale and sunken into her face with stress. She wasn’t looking like the same fragile doll that I’d picked up on the street four days earlier, but she was far from recovered from whatever had happened to her.
I smiled, nodded, and reached for the door, pulling it open, and not looking back as I walked through. I took a deep breath, fearful that she’d be gone when I returned.
My truck slowed at the curve in the road where the little white house sat, the one that Candace and I shared as foster kids a lifetime ago. I could still hear her laughter, see her smile, and taste her kiss. This woman that spent all of her time curled into a ball on my couch wasn’t Candace, but a shell of what she once was, what she should be.
The next bend in the road was where I’d picked her up. I slowed my truck, looking in each direction, trying to figure out where she could’ve come from, where she’d been just moments before I found her wandering aimlessly in the middle of the road. There was nothing. No houses. No farms. Just woods. How far had she walked and from where?
In town, my first stop was the hardware store. I knew they’d be closing soon, and I had a long list of supplies to pick up for Theo.
Randall, the owner of the store, waved in my direction and greeted me with a smile as I entered the small store.
“I thought you’d be here last week,” he gasped, out of breath from either his overweight body or age catching up to him.
“That was the plan, but-uh, well, things took a strange turn,” I stammered, not exactly sure what I wanted to tell the old man.
“That’s life, isn’t it? You plan, and then it kicks ya in the ass,” he laughed, wiping nervously at his white beard as his eyes danced on mine.
It was obvious from the cracks in his skin, the balding of his head, and the way he moved slowly with pain that life had kicked him in the ass a time or two. I smiled, laughed, and then followed him as he waved me towards the counter.
I watched as his hands shook, pulling at a stack of receipts under the cash register drawer.
“Here it is,” he grinned, pulling out the slip showing what Theo had ordered.
“I’ll pull around back if ya have it ready,” I offered, taking the receipt.
“It’s ready. Theo called in yesterday morning, even paid for it in full,” Randall smiled.
I knew that wasn’t Theo’s job, it was mine, and from the strange smirk that Randall gave me, it was clear he knew the same.
“Thanks,” I smiled nervously and headed out the front door.
A couple of young guys loaded the truck, no one I knew, and neither too friendly. I knew it was late, and they were ready to get home. So was I, so I didn’t bother trying to make chit-chat with them as they loaded me up.
I pulled into the local Family Dollar, parking my truck under the bright light near the front door with the tail end pushed towards the building.
Inside, a large woman with stringy brown hair welcomed me without looking up from her phone. I grabbed a cart, started down the first aisle, and began tossing in items, unsure of what I really needed. The list Candace had given me was slim, only a few items written down, like a toothbrush, conditioner, body wash, and a razor. She’d said she was fine wearing my old sweats, but I knew she’d like to have something that fit her better, something that would make her feel better to wear.
After loading the cart with snacks, lunchmeat, Pepsi, candy, and whatever else looked like it might be easy for Candace to eat, I moved towards the hygiene aisle.
Holy shit, there were a lot of brands aimed towards women.
Pantene, Herbal Essence, White Rain, Head and Shoulders…did she have dandruff? I laughed to myself as I tried sniffing each bottle until settling on one that reminded me of berries and honey. I tossed in the matching conditioner after pondering the difference between extra body, dry and damaged repair, extra moisture, and curl lock. I settled on extra body. Even with her life in shambles, Candace’s hair was still long, beautiful, and silky.
The large woman pushed her glasses down on her nose, glaring at me with her bright red lips puckered.
“You need help?” she asked.
Her tone wasn’t sweet, and I knew that
was because she was soon to close. I grabbed deodorant, razors, shaving cream, toothpaste, two different toothbrushes, a hairbrush, ties for her hair, mascara, a few other makeup items that I thought she might like, and even grabbed a bag for her to place them in: pink with black polka dots. I froze as I made it to the end of the aisle; tampons, pads, oh hell, did she need those? They weren’t on her list, but after a couple more glares from the lady at the register, I tossed in a box of each, just in case.
The woman rolled her eyes as I moved my cart from the aisle, and then turned towards the back of the store. I wanted to tell her I’d be quick, but I knew I couldn’t make that promise. This was much harder than I’d imagined.
The clothing section didn’t offer much at all, but I managed to find a couple pairs of sweats in what I figured was her size, a pair of jeans I thought might fit, yoga pants with bright pink flowers, and a t-shirt in every color they offered. The only option for nightgowns were long shirts with a giant fuzzy bear on the front holding a coffee cup with words above him that read ‘Not Today.’ I tossed it in the cart, along with slippers, a pair of sneakers, and two packs of socks. My next dilemma was underwear. Why were there so many kinds?
Boy cut, bikini, high, low, what the hell?
I grabbed one of each and rushed towards the front. The woman let out a deep sigh, almost a huff as she started ringing up my items as I placed them on the counter.
“You know there’s an all-night Wal-Mart just up the road,” she smirked, her tone still dry and unfriendly.
I nodded, continued placing items on the counter, and avoided answering. I wasn’t going another twenty miles to the store, not with Candace at my place all alone. I was in a rush, nervous to get back and ensure she was still there, safe, and with me.
My indecisiveness put a hurting on my credit card, but money wasn’t something I could worry about now. I slid the card through the black machine the woman spun towards me and followed the prompts as quickly as I could.
“Have a great night,” the woman smirked again, handing me the last bag from the spinning holder beside her.
“You too,” I nodded, and headed to the truck.
The burger joint was lit up bright as everything around it started to close. I pulled in, ordered our burgers, fries, and drinks, and added a couple slices of pie in for good measure.
Finally, I was headed home and back to Candace.
My truck pulled up, a single light glowing from the large front window, and my heart raced at the thought of walking in to find her gone.
I grabbed the bags from the passenger seat and slid out of the truck with everything in tow. I unlocked the door and found Candace where I’d left her, on the couch, huddled in the corner with the blanket up to her neck. She appeared scared, her eyes wild and searching as she scanned everything I had in hand.
“I wasn’t sure what to get,” I explained, starting to blush from the fact I’d bought everything I could think of, much more than what she’d put on her list.
“You didn’t have to bother,” she said softly, her eyes softening to mine.
I placed the bags on the kitchen table, sorted out what was for her, and brought it to her, sitting four bags of ‘girl stuff’ on the coffee table.
“What is all this?” she questioned, almost giving me a smile. Wow, what I would have given to see that familiar smile right then.
“I wasn’t sure what you could use, so I pretty much bought everything they had at the little store in town,” I blushed.
There it was, even though faint and still filled with leeriness: Candace’s smile.
I noticed her reluctance to go through the bags with me standing over her, so I left the room and sorted out our fast food, and put the snacks away, some on the counter that didn’t need to be refrigerated so she could grab what she wanted without the fear of having to go through the cabinets.
Everything about her was skittish, but I couldn’t figure for the life of me why. I wasn’t a stranger, someone she’d never known. We were close, foster kids, and for a brief, magical moment in life, lovers.
I took my time before entering the living room, hearing the rustle of the bags. My heart swelled in my chest, knowing she had to be at least a little relieved to have things that belonged to just her again. That was something we always hated in foster care. There were very few things that belonged to us. The bed we slept in, the house that sheltered us, the parents inside, the food in the cupboards, and often, the clothes on our backs. One suitcase, that’s all you were allowed when you moved from home to home, and only what would fit inside and what the past foster parent would allow you to take with you.
“You hungry?” I called into the other room from the kitchen, warning her of my return.
The rustling of the bags stopped, and I heard her squeak out, “Yes.”
“These are the best burgers in town, but damn near the greasiest too,” I smiled, handing her the bag with her stuff and her fountain Pepsi. “But, hell, I guess you know that, living around here still.” I admit it was fishing for information, but I had nothing else.
Her thin shoulders shrugged, and her eyes quickly moved from mine.
“You need ketchup, salt, anything?” I stammered.
Her head shook, still no eye contact.
“So, did you stay in Amarillo all this time, or did ya come back?” I asked.
I watched her carefully unwrap her burger and take a small bite. She was still so thin that it broke my heart to think of the pain she’d suffered in her life. No answer.
“I mean, I didn’t know where you’d gone. I was told you ran away, so I assumed it was far away from here,” I added to the one-sided conversation.
“I didn’t run,” she muttered.
My heart raced. She didn’t run away from me, so then what? I wanted answers, I needed them, craved them, could almost taste the want on my tongue, but I bit down on the burger, fearful to push any harder.
“Thank you,” she whispered, tears starting to form in her eyes.
I reached across the coffee table towards her without thinking. I wanted to comfort her, to let her know she was safe, and that I would take care of her, just like I’d promised when we were just kids. As my hand grazed against hers, she jerked back, dropping her sandwich on the floor and knocking her pop onto the floor. A wild roar of painful cries escaped her lips, and she pushed back hard into the couch cushion.
“It’s okay. It’s just a pop. I’ll clean it up. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your space, to come on too strong, I-I j-just wanted you to know I care, that you're safe,” I rattled so fast I wasn’t sure she could even make out what I was saying.
I got up, quickly rushed into the kitchen, and grabbed a towel. I had everything cleaned up, but Candace was already covered up in her blanket, hiding her face from mine, hidden from the world, from me.
“No worries. It’s all cleaned up,” I said softly, desperately wanting to stroke the round head that formed beneath the thin blanket, but didn’t dare.
“I’ll make you another drink,” I offered, and then picked her sandwich from the floor, placing it back on the wrapper it came in.
I made the drink, waited for her to uncover her face, to speak, to have any reaction, but I was met with silence.
“I’ve got to get up early. I’ll only be gone half the day, a few hours maybe. There’s plenty of stuff for you to eat while I’m gone, and you can get a shower either tonight if ya feel like or tomorrow while you have the house to yourself if that’s more suitable. You’re safe here, Candace. I want you here, and I will do my best to give you the time to heal that you need,” I said sweetly, and then headed into my bedroom, closing the door to leave a small crack so I could keep watch for her to take off.
After about an hour of silence, I drifted off, feeling fairly confident that she would still be there when I got up. As my alarm sounded, I lifted from bed, and stared out the crack from my bedroom door into the living room. The blanket was tossed over the back of the cush
ion, and there was no sign of Candace in her usual spot.
I pushed the blankets back and quickly made my way into the living room to the empty couch.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen. Had I set the programmer? No. I knew I hadn’t in all the anxiety spreading through the house after I tried to comfort Candace.
I slowly walked into the kitchen, my heart racing as I turned the corner. There she was, wearing the nightshirt I’d bought her and the fuzzy pink slippers. Her blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun atop her head, and she wore a smile, a real smile.
“Good morning,” I said softly, still in disbelief.
“I thought you might want coffee before you head out,” she offered, handing me a cup.
“Yes. Thank you,” I mumbled, shaking the dumb look I knew was growing wide on my face as I stared at her.
“It’s the least I could do,” she said quietly.
“Is there anything you need before I leave?” I asked.
“No. You bought me more than I needed. It’s too much, really,” she blushed.
I would’ve bought her the world if it was for sale.
“Well, I’ll be gone at least three or four hours, so make yourself at home. No one will bother you here,” I assured her.
I got another smile, soft and genuine, with her bright green eyes glistening from the sunlight peeking in through the window.
“I’m gonna get a quick shower. Thank you for the coffee,” I smiled back, exiting the kitchen with a strange feeling in my gut.
I still had feelings for her, that was obvious, but it had been so long, a lifetime ago. It was silly for me to entertain the idea of us, especially when I still had no idea what she was hiding from me or what she was hiding from herself.
I wanted to reach for her, to stroke her hair, her hand, just to touch her before I left, but I knew better than to try.