A Jar Full of Light

by Rae Walsh

When she touched his face, it had taken every bit of self-restraint that he had to kiss her hand and walk away. But Sheldon knew Reesey. She was like a bird or a deer in the forest. She would startle at even the hint of a threat. He would walk softly, quietly toward her. He also knew, after that look, after the feeling of her clay-covered palm against his lips, that his question was answered— he would continue to approach her. She was worth everything to him.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Maddie nudged Sheldon, bringing him back to the present yet again. They had reached the house. Sheldon followed Maddie as she walked under the bougainvillea-covered arch and up to the door. To his surprise, Sheldon heard the sound of hammering around the back of the house, coming from the studio.

  "It's late," he said to Maddie, as she opened the front door. "What's she doing?"

  Maddie shrugged, slipping her shoes off. "It's probably Sam," she said. "He gets obsessed with his projects."

  Sheldon considered this. She wasn't wrong.

  "Let's go see," he said.

  Maddie sighed dramatically but followed him down the garden pathway to the studio. They found Sam at the front of the studio, working on one of the floor-to-ceiling shelving units. Sheldon stood back for a minute to admire the effect of the work on the room. Sam and his team had transformed the small building—essentially a shed—into a light-filled storefront with a workshop in the back. They had expanded the front half until it was twice its original size, with large windows forming the whole front wall. There were delicate stair step shelves to show off Theresa's smaller-sized ceramics, as well as floor stands for larger works, and a wood and glass cabinet. In the middle of the room, there was a shift from display to workplace, with long concrete countertops and paint-splattered walls. The workshop opened to the add-on drying and firing room.

  Sam removed his headphones. "Hey guys," he said. "Rehearsal over?"

  "No, it's still going on," Maddie said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  "Hey," Sheldon said. "Don't be hard on him. He's old."

  Sam raised his eyebrows. "Both of you are sassy as ever, I see." He spread his arms to either side, showing off his work. "What do you think?"

  "Looks great," Sheldon answered. "You guys are quick."

  "Have to be. Reesey wants her opening to be before Christmas."

  Sheldon felt his jaw drop. "What?"

  Sam shrugged, turning back to his work. "She's crazy. But she says that missing the Christmas season would be the worst."

  "Do you know where she is?" Sheldon tried to keep his voice casual, but to his annoyance, it cracked.

  Sam turned back, raising an eyebrow at Maddie. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "Don't encourage him," she said, but she was smiling.

  They found Theresa at her makeshift work area on the back veranda. Theresa's chair was under the awning, but even so, she had a leaf caught in her braid. She wore clay-spattered coveralls and sat before an enormous pot. It looked like a giant vase, though Sheldon didn't know what you would put in something like that. It was twisted and curved, the sides sloping upward and then flaring out in unexpected ways, almost feminine in shape.

  While Sheldon held back, watching her, Theresa picked up a long rope of clay and dipped her fingers in water, smoothing the water over the pot and then holding the rope to the wet spot and pushing the edges in with her fingertips. She had a fierce look of concentration on her face, and after a moment, she leaned back to look at the effect, noticing them as she did so.

  "Oh, it's you two," she said, smiling at Maddie. "How did rehearsal go?"

  Sheldon could see the concern in her eyes. Should he tell her about Cam and Lenny? "Your daughter is wonderful," he said simply.

  Beside him, Maddie blushed and elbowed him. "Thanks," she said. "I can't say the same for you, though. Mom. Sheldon is a monster as a director. You should be glad you're not in the play. He drives us to exhaustion."

  "Hey," Sheldon protested, laughing.

  "It's not hard to make you exhausted, lazy daughter," Theresa said, raising an eyebrow at Maddie.

  Sheldon smiled at her, but he didn't know what to do. Theresa seemed like she was in a good mood. He could stay and talk with her more, or he could leave it like this. What would help the shy deer walk forward? Maybe it was enough. He had delivered her daughter safely. He would walk away, not push his luck.

  "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, as Maddie went through the patio door and into the house.

  Theresa looked surprised. Did she also look disappointed? Sheldon couldn't tell, as much as he wanted to imagine that she did.

  "You don't want to stay for a while?" Theresa asked. "I have a bottle of wine."

  "No," Sheldon said, "you look busy, and I have enough to do tonight. I'll take a rain check."

  "Oh," she said. "Okay, see you tomorrow." He definitely wasn't imagining the disappointment in her voice. He lifted a hand and waved, walking away, feeling a little smug. She wanted him to stay. The moon was stunning as he walked home. He wondered if it had ever looked so beautiful. Halfway back to his apartment above his store, Sheldon realized that he hadn't told Theresa about the guys at the church. It didn't matter. He was probably overthinking it anyway.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Theresa walked home from Green’s, soaking in the feel of sunshine on her face and arms and legs. Remus trotted at her heels, stopping to sniff every tree.

  “I don’t think anything has changed since the last time you checked, Pup,” Theresa said, wrinkling her nose at him.

  The weather had turned for good as the December days passed, with leaves falling and the house chilly every morning. Theresa felt like she was often cold, especially when she worked with clay. Her hands grew stiff, and she needed to take breaks to run them under hot water. Minnesota had been much, much colder than Aveline, but in Minnesota, Theresa had a woodstove in her studio. At the moment, she was working on her back veranda. So yes, she was cold. She moved between small pottery and her new series, and on warm days she moved her worktable out into the sunshine to warm up a bit. Under the bay tree, her veranda didn’t get much sunlight.

  It was nice to walk in the sunshine, thinking about not much at all, a string grocery bag in each hand, full of colorful vegetables. Theresa had plans for soup and homemade bread for dinner, with the loaves already rising at home.

  At the gate, Theresa paused and called Remus, smiling at his funny crooked run as he bounded ahead of her and up to the house where he first kissed his stuffed elephant and then went to his water bowl.

  Theresa heaved the bags of groceries onto the kitchen counter and went to shut the front door. She could smell the dough rising, and it gave her a little thrill of happiness. Theresa loved this house. She loved the studio that was nearly finished. She loved getting to know Maddie again and seeing how much her daughter had relaxed, how good Katie and Sam were for Maddie. All of them, really. Lucy, Faith, Francisco, and of course, Sheldon. All of them giving Theresa’s daughter the love she needed. Theresa and Maddie had been alone for so long.

  Just yesterday, Maddie had asked Theresa if she could have a friend over. Theresa had stared at her for nearly a minute before gulping and saying, “Yes, of course you can, yes!” at which Maddie narrowed her eyes, and Theresa realized she had overdone it. She tried to hide her reaction by walking to the sink and getting a drink of water, but then she choked, and Maddie had to pat her on the back until she could breathe again, muttering, “Okay, Mom, be cool, calm down.”

  Maddie had a friend. The two of them had a home, a family, and friends. Theresa hadn’t allowed herself to believe something like this could happen, not for a very long time.

  She was humming to herself, swinging the door closed, when she saw the envelope lying on the front porch, half-hidden under the doormat.

  Theresa stared at it, and her heart seemed to stutter to a stop before it jolted back into action at high speed. She put a hand to her throat. It was probably nothing. Probably junk mail or a bill. A note fro
m Sam? A poem from Sheldon, or an invitation to women’s group, or something from Frankie about church. Still, Theresa couldn’t make herself pick it up.

  She was frozen, and as she finally bent to pick the envelope off the ground, her hand seemed removed from her body, and her heart felt as though it would pound itself out of her chest. Her name was written on the front of the envelope in tiny, careful block letters. Now Theresa’s skin was hot and cold by turns. She was going to throw up. She backed into the house quickly, slamming the door and locking it, her hands shaking.

  Her body wanted to get as far away from the envelope as possible. It felt like the flu, like falling from an airplane, like drowning.

  She threw the note on the ground and walked around the house, closing her curtains. The problem was, she didn’t have as many curtains as she should. Theresa had thought it was nice to have a clear view of the garden and had left many windows bare. She had been stupid.

  Maddie was still at school. Theresa couldn’t breathe. She walked back to where she had thrown the envelope on the ground and stared at it, wrapping her arms around her ribs. Should she open it? She didn’t want to—felt sick at the thought of opening it. How could this be happening? How was Theresa back in this nightmare?

  She bent and picked up the envelope with two fingers, staring around her with wide, dry eyes. Everything in her house looked different than it had just five minutes earlier. The shock of seeing those tiny block letters reverberated through her whole being until Theresa felt as though she had been punched, shaken, and scraped raw.

  She went to the swing chair in the living room—she had been so happy to finally have one—and sat down gingerly. She used her fingernail to get a piece of the envelope open, then pulled her hand across clumsily, ripping the paper and giving herself a cut in the process. As she pulled her finger to her mouth, a dozen tiny leaves fell onto her lap. Each one was different. They were leaves from the trees in her garden, carefully collected, and placed in the white envelope.

  Theresa thought she would faint. She knew who had done this. He always did things like this. Now she hurried. She had to read what it said. She pulled a letter out and unfolded it with shaking hands.

  Dear Theresa, the note said. I saw Maddie yesterday. I talked to her. She’s beautiful but not as beautiful as you. You can’t keep avoiding me, I don’t want you talking to him. Stay away from him. You have always belonged to me I’m not done with you. Stay away from him. You’ve seen what I can do when I’m angry.

  The letter wasn’t signed.

  Theresa jumped out of the swing chair, crying out when she twisted her ankle. She stumbled into the kitchen and put the letter in the sink, turning the tap on it, then shoving it into the garbage disposal and turning the switch on. The roaring sound of the garbage disposal sickened her. She was going to have a heart attack. Something was happening to her vision. Everything felt slow, oily, prickly.

  Theresa pushed her palms into her forehead and then raised them and smacked herself hard, on the forehead one, two, three times. She realized she was rocking, humming, and it wasn’t helping. She hit her head harder. She needed to get out of her skin; it was going to smother her. Panic.

  She was powerless. She had always been powerless against people who wanted to harm her. It felt like there was fire in her chest. Her heart was beating so hard. She put her fingernails against her head. She needed to scratch the fear out—no. No more scratching. She had promised. She half ran, half stumbled to the bathroom, tearing her clothes off and climbing into the shower. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand and she let it run over her face and hair, over her head.

  She couldn’t do this.

  It hurt so much. The brutality of the world. The ugliness. After the bad thing had happened, Theresa thought she would die. And then baby Maddie came, and then Sheldon carefully came closer and closer to her, and Theresa thought maybe things would be okay. But the menace in the cruel forest had closed in on her all those years ago. She had done the only thing she could do. She had run.

  Why had Theresa thought she could come back? Good things weren’t for people like her. Nightmares always found her.

  The words. Those words. Suddenly Theresa was crying, and then she was squatting under the water, rocking back and forth on her heels, wailing. The sounds that came out of her would have been terrifying if anyone had heard them. Theresa cried until her voice got crunchy with it, and then her crying slowed, and then it stopped.

  Her breath came slower. She found that she was sitting on the floor of the shower, leaning against the wall. The water ran over her, slowly calming her until the panic started to fade.

  Feeling ancient and spent, Theresa stood and took a bottle of frankincense oil from the windowsill. She shook a few drops into one hand and then rubbed her hands together, wiping them on her face and neck, and as the hot water warmed the oil, the smell of frankincense filled the room. Theresa took a deep, shuddering breath, breathing the beautiful scent, coming back to her body. She tapped lightly on her collarbone and temples.

  Okay, Reesey, she told herself. Hey. Hi. It’s okay. You’re still here. If she thought of the note, though, her eyes welled with tears, and her heart started racing again.

  She never, ever wanted Maddie to know about the notes. She needed to keep the menace in the cruel forest far, far away from Maddie. What was Theresa going to do? She stared into her pruney hands and realized that she had absolutely no idea.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Finally, after what seemed like hours, Theresa turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, and pulled it tightly around her. She walked out of the bathroom to find that she wasn’t alone in the house.

  Sheldon was in her kitchen. First, Theresa jumped half a foot, her senses already jangling, then she felt heat rush to her face as she realized she was only in a towel.

  “How did you get in?” she asked, her voice still scratchy and sore.

  Sheldon was red in the face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You forgot one of your bags of oranges, so I brought it when I got a chance, and your door was open. I came in to put it on the counter, and then I heard you crying.”

  He started to walk toward her, but she held a hand out. She could feel how she looked, how swollen her eyes would be, how red her forehead from hitting it. She didn’t want him close to her. He stopped and put his hands in his armpits, rocking back and forth a little, chewing on his lip.

  “Reesey,” he said, his voice low. “What’s wrong? Tell me, please. I want to help.”

  She looked at him, so exhausted that she felt as though she could sleep for a month.

  “Give me five minutes,” she said. In her room, Theresa pulled on a pair of warm pajama pants and a T-shirt, then pulled a blanket off her bed and wrapped it around her. She took a few breaths and walked back out to the kitchen, suddenly glad that Sheldon was here. Theresa did not want to be alone at all.

  Sheldon was putting Theresa’s groceries away. He had wiped the counters and washed the few dishes that had been in the sink. Sheldon was so, so beautiful and so comforting, standing there. He had heard the worst part of Theresa as she wailed in the shower, and he had not run away.

  If she told him about the letter, maybe he could help. He had gone through many hard things in his life. He had taken the crap his childhood had given him and grown from it. He was smart and kind.

  But Theresa’s cruel forest would eat him alive. There had been letters in the past. I’ll cut his face and hands. She knew the menace would do it. She touched the scars on her left arm. People always assumed she had done it to herself. She had never told anyone the truth.

  Right now, though, all Theresa wanted was Sheldon. So she went to him. She walked very close, and after a moment, she put her arms around his waist and leaned her face on his chest. His arms came around her, and the weight of them was the last piece she needed to drive the panic away. She stood there, breathing more and more slowly, listening to his heart.

  “Reesey,” he sai
d, his voice a rumble. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t tell you that,” she said.

  “I won’t tell anyone. You know I can keep a secret. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Tazzy’s heartbeat beneath her cheek was like the feeling she had when she was under the covers during a storm. He smelled like linen and sunshine. If only she could tell him, share this horrible thing, so it wasn’t sitting on her alone. If only Theresa could let Sheldon take care of her. If she could be with him again, she would be the happiest woman alive.

  Theresa remembered the horrible, tearing feeling when she had been forced to flee. It had been so hard to walk away from her curly-haired boy, this man who had taught her how to be free.

  She pulled away and looked up into his eyes. He touched her face gently with his hands, smoothing away the tears that were still spilling out of her eyes.

  “No one can keep me safe,” she said. “I can’t have this kind of relationship, Sheldon. That’s all I can say. I’m not allowed. If I try, the people I love will be in danger.”

  His eyes were very soft, but his eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Is someone threatening you?” he asked. “Is that what this is about, Reesey? I always thought you meant you couldn’t be with me because of something inside you that kept you from being able to stay. Are you saying that someone made you leave?”

  She looked back at him, flooded with every bit of longing she had ever felt for him over the years. What could she tell him? She had missed him like a limb. There were parts of her that could never even be alive if he wasn’t around. Jokes that she could never share. Wildness she kept locked away. How could he think it was something inside her that made her leave? But she had never told him. How could he know? She felt panic again. She didn’t know how to keep this perfect person safe. Her boy. Her friend, who didn’t find her too weird or make her feel stupid for not understanding the social world.