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“I’m sorry about your grandma,” I add, suddenly seeing him as the broken kid I was once.
Luckily, after two beers it felt like a natural time to make my exit. I spent the entire time thinking about Sunshine anyway. I don’t even know her real name and it’s starting to bother me. The same way that she thinks my name is Jay.
There’s a twisting of desperation in my gut to tell her the truth. I don’t want her to think I’m some random bum that hangs out at the bar and I want to see her smile again. Dammit.
I shouldn’t care. This is all temporary. I have a job to do then I’ll be gone. I can’t let it disrupt my life. Not that I have much of a life.
Halfway back to the motel, my attempt to be indifferent evaporates because I start to worry about how determined Kyle is. If he goes back to her house tonight he could force his way in. I told her to block the door, but it won’t stop a grown man if he’s determined.
That thought has my rusted, square-body truck parked right out front of her house in the middle of the night, but only after my pit stop to find an open hardware store. Thirty minutes out of my way.
I’ll install the new lock first thing in the morning. She’ll only be at risk until tomorrow. I’ll keep an eye on the house and make sure there are no unwanted visitors in the meantime. Once she’s safe, I won’t think about her so much.
That’s my last thought as I close my eyes and lean my head back to sleep.
* * *
Jesse- Seven Years Old
I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see Momma like this.
“Stop crying, Jesse. Man up.” Daddy elbows me from beside me in the pew, making me cry harder. Today is my momma’s funeral and he doesn’t want me to cry? Momma was so beautiful. She was the best momma I could ever ask for.
Why do I have to be stuck here with my daddy? I hate him. I hate him so much.
Visitors take turns walking up to the casket at the front of the church, whispering words to Momma. She still looks pretty, even though she’s dead. Dead. My momma is dead and never coming back. That’s what Daddy keeps telling me.
I don’t know these people here. None of them ever came to our house, but some of them walked up to me and my daddy anyway, telling us that they were sorry for us. Daddy nods at them, but all I can do is look at my feet.
My brown shoes are too small. They make my feet hurt, but I keep looking at them. I wish they would pick me up and walk me out of here. I never want to come to church again. I don’t want to see Momma like this anymore.
“Hi, Jesse.” The familiar voice lifts my chin. It’s my teacher, Miss Carlisle. “I’m sorry about your mom, sweetheart.”
I can’t jump up fast enough to hug her. She’s so nice and always smells like strawberries. I cry in her arms for a long time, but she just holds me. My daddy won’t be mean to me in front of Miss Carlisle. I wish I could go with her instead of with my daddy.
Eventually, the preacher starts to speak and I have to sit back in my seat. Miss Carlisle stays with me the whole time, but I go back to staring at my brown shoes.
* * *
I wake with a start, hearing taps on my window. The sun is coming up and a confused, but beautiful woman is standing right outside my truck. Shit.
“Uh. Good morning,” I tell her sheepishly, as I hand crank my window down.
“What are you doing?” She asks defensively, and rightfully so.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to keep an eye on you, I was afraid Kyle would come back last night.” I rub my eyes, realizing I slept harder than I intended. Sad dreams will do that I guess. “I meant to be awake before you left for work,” I admit.
She studies me closely and I can’t help but recognize the distrust in her eyes. She is wary of me. I probably startled her by sitting out here like a creep.
“I usually run every morning and I have the late shift today. I don’t go in until ten.” That explains the killer legs in those jean shorts at the bar that night.
“Ah.” It’s the only response I can manage. I’ve never been tongue-tied, but I am now around her. Something about this girl is getting me turned all around in my head. She looks at me closer than anyone else does and I’m not used to being seen.
“So?” She shuffles her feet awkwardly, waiting for me to say something coherent.
“I’m sorry to ask you this, but… What’s your name?” I raise the packaging of the new lock I bought, silently explaining my actual reason for being here.
Her face softens and she laughs, giving me the perfect view of the sunrise right before my eyes. Her smile lights up my soul every time, rattling me, thoroughly.
