The Dirt Road Home, page 7
“I should have gone to see her when she was in jail,” Thomas says guilty. When his gaze locks with mine I see tears pooling in the bottom of his eyes.
“Something tells me she would’ve refused to see anyone.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Anyhow, I can’t bring myself to give it to her. Will you?”
I close the box and put everything back in the envelope. “That depends?”
“On what?”
“Has she been known to bite?” I ask with a smile on my face.
He laughs and slams his palm down on the bar. “I like you, kid,” he says before finishing off his beer.
“I’m far from being a kid. I’m thirty-six. But this is the first time I’ve had a beer in a bar like a man, so I guess if the shoe fits I’ll wear it.”
“I call anyone younger than me kid. Plus, I still don’t know your name.”
“Touché,” I say tipping my beer to him.
“We should get back so you can see what she’s up to.” He rises from his stool, stretching.
“You’re not coming in?”
“Hell no, boy! She’s been stewin all day. You’re on your own.”
“Gee, thanks,” I reply dryly.
“I think you can handle her,” he chuckles, patting me on the back.
I sure hope so. Now that she knows I have an ally she might not be so willing to open up to me. She needs to start facing things. If she doesn’t, she’ll never be able to move forward.
Chapter Eleven
Mia
◆◆◆
Ispent the whole afternoon alone yesterday. Like what is going on? Thomas and Death shopping? Are you kidding me? Anyhow, I found myself pacing the house. Waiting, waiting for Death’s return. It was dark by the time I heard Thomas’s truck pull in last night. So, I hastily made my way to my bed and pretended to be asleep.
Death stood in my doorway for a long time, watching me. He probably knew I was awake, but he didn’t say anything. I really wanted to know what they talked about all damn day and into the evening, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me up waiting for him. I’m not waiting on Death. Well, technically I am waiting for death, just not on Death. Anyway, you know what I mean.
Every morning this week he has gotten up early and left. Today I’m going to find out just where in the fuck he goes. Once I hear the front door close, I quickly toss back the covers. I dressed before dawn and have been lying here, waiting for him to leave. He poked his head in once. I think he was satisfied I was asleep. At least he didn’t watch me forever like he did last night.
As I walk through the kitchen, I grab a piece of burnt bacon he left lying out. He should leave the cooking to me. I peek out the door, my eyes follow him to the back of the house. As quiet as a mouse, I shadow him. He stops briefly to take a pocketknife out of his jeans. Carefully he picks through my mom’s flowers, making his selections. Is he cutting them for the table?
Once he has a handful, he continues through the yard, pausing only briefly to look up at my treehouse. He makes his way through the yard, down to the dirt path that leads to the creek. I stop at the fence. Do I want to follow? I haven’t been back here for many years. My heart aches but my curiosity wins out and I creep along the tree line, staying hidden a few yards behind him.
The breeze blows the leaves on the trees, hopefully masking any noise I might be making. He doesn’t stop, so he must not sense that I’m being a creeper behind him. He turns off the path to climb the little hill that my parent’s and I used to picnic on. And then he crouches down and lays the flowers on the ground…
No.
No.
I back up, tripping on a branch. The noise draws Death’s attention, and his eyes snap to mine.
I turn to run but Death calls my name. His voice floats down the hill, reaching out and snagging me like a bear caught in a trap around the ankle. I can’t move. Come on Mia, run. I’m frozen. My mind races. I want to stay…I want to go…I don’t…I don’t know what I want.
Death walks up behind me slowly. “It’s okay, Daffodil. Come with me,” he encourages gently.
“I thought they were buried at the cemetery. Thomas didn’t tell me they were here,” I say, my voice cracking slightly.
“It’s beautiful and peaceful here.”
“Yeah.” I turn my head, hesitantly looking over my shoulder at him. He smiles and holds his hand out for me to take.
“Come with me, Mia. I promise I’ll stay with you. We can stay for a few minutes or all day. Whatever you need.” He wiggles his fingers, encouraging me to reach out to him.
I watch in awe as my hand slowly moves towards his. Why does it seem like time is moving in slow motion? His fingers wrap around mine gently as soon as they make contact. He is warm, comforting. My eyes roam upward to meet his and when they connect he smiles.
My stomach is churning as he pulls me up the hill. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. He releases my hand when we get to the graves. I lower myself in front of Erelah’s stone. Death sits beside me quietly. My fingers flit over the etching of her name. The cut is rough against my fingers. All of a sudden a group of starlings rush out of a tree. I watch as they fly up to the sky in sync, their patterns making waves against the blue sky.
I glance at Death. His eyes are on the little birds too. Eventually they take up residency back in the tree. He slowly turns his face towards me. “Is this where you have been coming every morning?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Your mother loved daffodils, so I thought she would like them, and I guess it is somewhat routine for me. When I was in the city I visited my mother every day.” His finger flits lightly over the yellow petals as he answers me.
“Your mother is gone too?”
He nods somberly.
“Wait, I never told you that my mother liked daffodils.”
“I knew your mother. She was friends with mine. They were college roommates.”
“Catherine?”
“Yep,” he plucks some grass from the ground, but he doesn’t look at me.
I’m stunned. My mother loved Catherine. She used to tell me all of the daring things they did in college. Mom thought I should be a little more like them. Let loose a little. “Have a little fun, Mia,” she would encourage. But I didn’t listen. I didn’t even live in the dorms. I moved in with Darrin. He insisted. Back then he was a bit of a control freak and wanted to know where I was at all times. Funny how things change. Now he could care less where I am.
“I’m sorry, I guess I don’t remember my mom mentioning Catherine had children. She passed before I was born. I always wished I could’ve met her.”
“She was amazing. Every weekend she took me somewhere in the city that I hadn’t been. She loved to explore new things. The energy that woman had was crazy, until she got sick.” He turns his head away from me.
“How old were you when she passed?” I ask, reaching over to place my hand on his shoulder. His muscles tense beneath my palm, so I pull away. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to talk about it. I understand.”
“I was eight,” he whispers.
My heart constricts. That is sad. I had my parents for twenty-six years. He only had his mom for eight. I stare at Erelah’s grave. I didn’t even have her for a day. Life is so unfair. “I hate life,” I cry.
He turns abruptly. “Don’t say that,” he growls.
“Why? It’s true.” I shrug my shoulders.
“Life is a gift.” He grabs my chin and turns me to face him. “You will see, Mia. I will make you see.”
I laugh at his seriousness. “Good luck, buddy.” I jerk my head out of his grip. “Your mom died when you were eight, how can you say it doesn’t suck?”
“Because it doesn’t. Sure, sometimes it hurts but my mom wanted more than anything to live and it killed her to ask me to help her end her life. I’m thankful each morning when I wake up to a new day. If for no other reason than to honor her memory.”
He helped his mom die.
Oh my god, he was eight! I don’t think I could mask the horror on my face if I wanted to. “Oh…oh, shit. The other day in the shower when I said you didn’t have balls…oh god, I’m so sorry. How horrible.” Again, I reach out and place my hand on his shoulder.
He stares at my hand resting there before lifting his gaze back to mine. “Yes, and I still find the courage to get up and live every single day.”
My hand drops off his shoulder. I shake my head back and forth. “I’m not like you…I can’t do it. I wake up every morning, cursing that I’m still here. If that’s being a coward then that’s what I am.”
“But you do get up and live every single day. It’s been two years, Mia, and you’re still here.”
“Not by choice.”
“No?” he cocks his head.
I hug my knees to my chest. He is right. I have survived two years without them. My eyes drift over each of the three stones, lingering on Erelah’s. “I wish I could have seen her,” I whisper.
Death scoots close to me and puts his arm around my shoulder, hugging me to him. “Did I ever tell you sometimes I moonlight as a genie?” I watch as he reaches into his shirt pocket and pulls out a photo. “Your wish is my command,” he says, placing it in my hands.
When my eyes drop to the photo the scab that had formed over my grief rips open. The image is of my angel wrapped in my unaware arms. She is beautiful. Her hair is dark like mine. A sob escapes me, and Death squeezes me tight, pulling me closer to him. He whispers over my hair, “It’s okay, I’ve got you, Daffodil.”
She has a perfect little button nose. Tears cloud my eyes as I stare at the photo. “Is this supposed to make me want to live?”
“Live to keep her memory alive.”
“I didn’t even know her,” I cry.
“You did…you do, and you are the only person on this earth who does. Live and share her. Share her with the world…with me.”
Chapter Twelve
Mia
◆◆◆
Iwake to Death stroking my hair. I push myself up off the ground. “Shit, did I fall asleep?”
“No, you didn’t fall, you cried yourself to sleep.” He helps me sit up. “Do you feel better?”
The sky is so pretty it is the same color of fuchsia as the flowers on Erelah’s grave. The leaves bristle in the wind above me and suddenly I have an overwhelming sense of being home. “You stayed here all day with me? You could’ve left.”
“I enjoyed watching you sleep.” He smirks and rises, holding his hand out for me.
I roll my eyes at him but take his hand and allow him to hoist my aching limbs off the ground. “It’s going to be dark soon, I guess we should be going,” I grumble.
“We can stay all night if you want. I’ll run home and get the blankets and you can build a fire,” he teases.
“Oh, I do know how to build a fire. Do you?” I dish back.
“I don’t. You do know that now you will have to teach me.” He bumps his shoulder against mine. “But seriously, if you want to stay, we stay.”
I hug the photo to my chest. “No, I’m ready to go back.”
He takes my hand, and we walk down the hill. I pause at the bottom and look back at my family. I’m having a hard time walking away.
Death shakes my hand. “Hey, we can come back in the morning.”
I focus my attention back to him. He has been coming here every morning. Not to impress me but because he wanted to. Death has a heart…who would have guessed? “That would be nice,” I say, giving him a shy smile.
When we get to the house, I ask him what he would like for supper. “Thomas invited us to supper at the bar, his treat,” he answers casually.
I laugh and begin to dig through the cupboards. “Seriously, what do you want?” He pushes me back and closes the cupboard.
“We are really going to the Tipsy Cow and then we are going to see what this street dance is all about. I’m curious.”
“Oh, you’re curious? Well, I’ll tell you, it’s a place for a bunch of assholes to hang out and get slopping drunk.”
He shrugs his shoulder. “I want to see it for myself.”
I open the cupboard, sticking my head inside so he can’t close it again. “Have fun,” I mumble from inside.
“I can’t drive remember?” He peeks around the door at me.
“Call Thomas. You two seem to be buddy buddy.” I ignore his hot breath on my neck.
“Are you jealous?”
I face him so that we are nose to nose. “No.” I slam the cupboard door, making him jerk his head back in surprise.
“Come on. I even bought you a new dress.” He places his hands over his heart, begging me.
“You. You bought me a dress. This I have to see.” I grab his shoulders and spin him to lead the way.
He jogs up the stairs and I trudge slowly behind him. He is in and out of his room, I mean my parent’s bedroom, before I even make it to the top. I stop halfway up to stare at the bright yellow sundress he is holding up.
I try to hide the smile that forms on my face with my hand. It’s so bright. I love it. I never would have worn something so bright before. The me before would have worn something a bit more practical, more something that everyone else was wearing. The me now wants to wear black, like my heart. But there is something about this dress that I do love.
“You don’t like it?” He frowns, running his eyes up and down the thing.
“No, no I like it. I just don’t know if it’s me?”
“But do you like it?” he asks, confused.
“Yes, I do.”
“Then it is you. Wear what you like. Why would you like it but not wear it?” He shakes his head, still dumbfounded.
“Because what would people think with me wearing something so bright so soon after…”
“Soon? Two years is too soon to wear yellow?”
I grimace but chuckle. He’s right. It’s just a color and it’s just a dress. I walk up the steps to stand by him, taking the dress from his hands.
“So, that’s a yes?” He dips his head to catch my eyes.
“I guess. I’ll go for a little bit. Are you sure you want to be seen with me?” I stare at the floor, waiting for his answer.
He tips my chin with his knuckle, insisting I look at him. “I want everyone in the world to see me with you.” He smiles widely and for the first time I notice the silver specks in his black eyes. God they are beautiful.
Heat creeps up the back of my neck as I blush. “Okay, I’m just warning you. I’m number one on the list of top ten things to gossip about.”
“Ooh, then let’s give them something to gossip about. You can tell them that I’m Boris, your Russian lover. Tell them I wrote to you while you were in jail, and we fell madly in love. Tell them I have a criminal fetish.”
“Or I could just tell them the truth. That you are Death, I am Daffodil, and we are playing a deadly game of Russian Roulette. I’ve pulled the trigger several times only to be met with an empty chamber. And you are the only one that can find the one that contains the silver bullet,” I say dryly.
“I like my version better,” he states with no emotion whatsoever.
I roll my eyes and turn to go to my room to get ready.
I can’t believe I let him talk me into this. Why did I agree? I don’t want to go. I’m only going for him. Not because of what Thomas said about the bachelorettes in town but because I just don’t want him to have to go alone. Yeah, that’s it. That has to be it because I definitely don’t want to go. “I don’t,” I say adamantly to my reflection.
Death walks in without knocking. “Ready?” he asks excitedly.
“Um, no. Look at me I don’t have my hair done nor do I have any makeup on.”
He screws his face up. “Ewe, you don’t need that crap. You’re perfect as you are. Your hair is brushed, and it looks nice, shinny. Definite improvement from a few days ago. Let’s go.”
I just stare at him in the mirror and grab my black eyeliner bringing it up to my eye.
“If you put bat wings on your eyes I will be embarrassed to be seen with you.”
“They aren’t bat wings,” I say angrily, dropping the eyeliner. Fine, if he doesn’t give a fuck, I really don’t either. I don’t care what the hell I look like. “Fine, I’m ready.”
He smiles like he won and pushes the door open wide for me to exit in front of him. I narrow my eyes at him in the reflection of the mirror and slowly pick up my red lipstick and purse my lips, coating them with a thin layer of the shimmery stuff. I smack them loudly before letting my gaze meet his again. I thought I would find a scowl but all I see is a man starved for my lips. I stand abruptly, knocking over my chair. “I’m ready,” I say hastily, setting the chair upright.
I hustle past him and notice he hasn’t taken his eyes off my lips. Great, Mia, just put a bullseye on the one thing Death is willing to do for you. He came here to kill me but now all he wants is to kiss me.
He reaches out and grabs me by the waist. “Wait, I have something for you.” He pushes me back to my vanity and turns me to face the mirror. He leans around, placing a silver heart locket around my neck. I watch as he clasps it, his hands hovering longer than necessary once it is fastened. “It’s from Thomas.” It rests just above the swell of my breasts. It’s beautiful, the etched swirls in the silver reflect the light like little jewels. “Open it.”
I try with shaky hands. Death reaches around me, stilling them. He opens it for me and rests it in his palm so that I can see the contents. My tear-filled eyes meet his. “I’m glad I let you talk me out of the eyeliner,” I cry, laughing at the same time.
He closes it and drops it gently against my skin, his fingers brushing lightly over my breasts. “Let’s go live a little for Erelah. Even if it’s just for tonight,” he whispers against my temple.
I nod once.
My head and my heart are confused as we head out into the night. Should I go? Just, tonight. One night. One night for Erelah. Death jogs out in front of me, blocking me from getting in the driver’s seat. “Teach me to drive.”
