...get the ice...
‘Sandra -’
...aren’t there any plastic bags...
‘Please God - don’t let her come in here -’
...wrap it in a dishtowel then ...
‘Sandra -’
Rick’s hand shook as he emptied the ice cube tray onto the dishtowel waiting on the counter. He counted out in his mind each step he took. He had to fill his mind up with something, anything, push out the memory. Can’t let the memory in or it’ll never leave again.
‘God - why did she come in here?’
“Rick?” Dan had followed him down and wondered what he was doing, standing
at the refrigerator, taking ice out of the freezer. He was still dressed. “You okay?”
“I can’t move my arm.” Rick hadn’t heard him come down the stairs. He tried to judge if he’d been talking to himself out loud. “Let me see.” Dan walked into the kitchen. Rick pushed up his sleeve. His elbow was swollen and displayed a geometric pattern of purple and blue bruises. He held it flexed and pressed against his side. “Can you bend it or straighten it at all?”
“No, it hurts.”
“Well...go on over to the couch, let me get the ice for you.”
“I can do it.” Rick insisted. “I’ve just got to crush it or something, I can do it.” Part of him wanted Dan gone back upstairs. Part of him noticed how Dan being around quieted the memories.
“Like you can do that with one arm...” Dan was anxious to help, anxious to make up for being the one who hurt Rick. “It’ll just take me a second, I just need a - a -” he looked around the tiny kitchen for a weapon of some sort. “We got a rolling pin? A big big spoon? Not even a - aah, screw it.” He took the cast iron frying pan and slammed it down on the ice. The impact made Rick jump and he wondered if Dan was pissed.
“Sorry.” Dan apologized. “Here...” He wrapped the ice up and tied it before handing it to Rick who took it into the front room and sat on the couch with the dishtowel of ice on his elbow. Dan sat in the overstuffed chair with his feet on the end of the couch. There was still three hours before they had to go to work.
“How’s it feel?” Dan asked after a few minutes.
“Better, I can move it a little."
“You take a pain killer?”
“Yeah.”
“If it ain’t better in the morning, I’ll take you back to the hospital...if you don’t have any strenuous objections...”
“No objections.” Rick felt a twinge of guilt remembering what he’d said to Dan in the car.
“I might just need some ice for my shoulder, you pack a mean whallop.”
Rick let out a deep breath of relief that they were talking about it. “I’m sorry I hit you Dan.”
“After what I did to you? Ain’t nothing.” He got up, relieved as well that the subject had been broached. “You want something to eat? Got all that food Mrs. Banks sent with. I can make us each a sandwich.”
“Sure, thanks. Can I have a glass of milk too?”
They sat, and ate, and Dan said a quick silent prayer before saying: “You told the
Banks you haven’t been home in four and a half years?”
“No, I haven’t...”
“Lose the directions?”
“No...” Rick frowned but went on. “I got hurt real bad just before I left...I haven’t acquired the nerve to go back...”
“Hurt? Physically?” Dan ventured. It took Rick a long time to answer.
“Not just physically.”
“I’m sorry...you can tell me it’s none of my business.”
Rick shrugged. “It’s not that it’s none of your business. I just don’t ever talk about it.”
“Well, this probably isn’t any of my business.” Dan pressed on. “But why did you run out on Lynne tonight?”
“What’s the worst thing that ever happened to you?” Rick asked. Dan was surprised by the seeming shift in conversation.
“You mean besides hitting you with my car?”
“I mean, is there anything that happened to you or that you did that you don’t ever tell anybody about?”
Dan thought a moment. “My house burned down when I was a little. My little baby sister died in the fire.”
“Dan - I’m sorry. I never would’ve asked.”
Dan shrugged. “It’s been twenty-three years. Almost to the day, actually. It happened the day President Kennedy was killed.”
“Do you remember anything about it?”
“I remember there was a lot of confusion, a lot of shouting. Mom tried to get me out of the house but...I got burned anyway.” Dan waited a moment. “What’s the worst thing that ever happened to you?” He figured that was why Rick asked in the first place.
“You mean besides getting hit by your car tonight?” Rick leaned forward and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket with his good hand. He flipped the photograph section open and held it out to Dan. It was a picture of a girl in her late teens. She was dressed in a bright red sweater and a denim skirt, sitting on the hood of a Ford Mustang.
“Who’s that?” Dan asked, sister he figured. No, probably girlfriend.
Rick looked at the picture and gently rubbed his thumb over it. “Sandra...my wife.”
“Excuse me?”
“My wife.” Rick repeated. “They say I saw her die, but I don’t remember.”
“Rick -”
“I left Lynne tonight because I haven’t ...been...with a girl since Sandra was killed.”
“Killed?” Too much information.
Rick lifted his head and squinted against the lamplight. “She was killed in a hold up, at the liquor store I worked weekends.”
“Good Lord Rick - and you saw it?”
“Three men held the store up. They made us go down into the storeroom, down in the basement. One of them - one of them - shot her. They broke my arm and hit me across the face with a bottle of Southern Comfort.”
“ - your lip -”
“They cut my mouth all up.” It was agony for Rick to confide. “I got the gun away from the guy...but it was too late. Sandra was dead. They said she died immediately. Thank God. Thank God for that.”
“And you don’t remember any of it?” How could you not remember seeing your wife shot dead in front of you?
Rick shook his head and stared at the picture of his wife. “Not one damn bit of it. It’s in there, I know. I remember bits and there’s a lot of things scare me.”
“Like being in the basement.” Dan said. Rick nodded but didn’t look up. “She’s real pretty Rick." Dan said, trying to get off an obviously excruciating topic for Rick. "She’s got real pretty eyes.”
“I’ll never know what she saw in me. I loved her though. I swear to God I loved her.”
Rick took his first ever unscheduled time off the next morning. Dan left him with
precise instructions to soak as long as possible in water as hot as possible, to take his pain
killers exactly when he was supposed to and to spend the rest of the day in bed. Dan was
understandably bothered when Rick appeared after lunch.
“Not one word.” He warned just as Dan took a breath to launch his attack. “I’m fine. I have to work. I go crazy if I don’t work.”
“Did you at least soak awhile?” They got in step, walking to the barn.
“Yeah.”
“You’re still limping.” Dan informed him.
“It’ll go away. Sidewinder used to do worse to me.”
Dinnertime couldn’t come too soon. Rick spent the day watching Dan watch him
and insisting to Dan that he was fine. But he had to wonder if Dan was watching him
because he’d been hurt, or because of what he’d told him last night. He wanted to ask, but
didn’t want to know. When Aunt Marie noticed something was wrong, Rick told her he
thought he was coming down with something, must’ve caught it last night out in the snow.
He didn’t lie to save Dan, he lied to her to save himself having to explain to her and seeing
the understanding and sympathy in her eyes.
He got through his work slower than usual, but he got through it, one armed and all. Truth was he didn’t know how long he’d last. Still, the pain felt comforting in a way, as though it was filling up an emptiness, as though he deserved it.
Finally, it was time to go back to the schoolhouse for dinner. The sun set into the fields, and a meandering wind hurled the top layer of snow at the two men walking down Sullivan road at twilight. That quarter mile of road had never seemed so long to Rick. All he wanted was another nice long soak in a nice hot tub, more pain killers than were good for him, and a dinner he could eat one handed. That would see him through evening milking and he could try sleeping again.
“Wonder how many potholes we’ll have next Spring?” Rick said. Dan wasn’t saying anything over there.
“Too many.”
“Some times I think they don’t pave the road because the Ward’s won’t give up the farm.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me...” Dan said, but by his voice he was somewhere else. Rick gave up the short conversation and they headed home in silence. Dan unlocked the door and let Rick in first so that he could shut the door behind them. He held his hand out silently for Rick’s jacket and hung it with his own on the peg behind the kitchen door.
Rick went over all the possibilities of what he wanted to accomplish before evening milking. Pain killers? In his pocket. Hot bath? Through that door. Clean clothes to put on after the shower? ...they were up stairs, and if he walked up those stairs now, he might not make it back down.
“You okay?” Dan asked, and Rick realized he’d stopped dead at the island, paused between kitchen and front room.
“Thinking of taking a bath.”
“Good idea.”
“Just gotta get some clothes, don’t want to take a bath and put dirty clothes back on.” Not that he’d never done that in his life, but now with a steady supply of fresh, he preferred clean on clean.
“I’ll get them for you.” Dan offered.
“I can do it.” Rick thought he should at least pretend to intend to do it.
“Before Spring thaw? Tell you what, you start heading to the bathroom and I bet I’ll be back down before you get to the door.”
“Thanks Dan.”
Dan knew exactly where to find clean clothes in Rick’s dresser because he’d put
them there. He was glad to have something to do to keep from focusing on the whirling
thoughts in his head.
‘Hi honey, how was your day?’
‘Well, I almost killed my best friend, then I found out he saw his wife murdered right in front of his eyes. You know, same as always...’
So many things, unpleasant things, were kicking around in his mind now that he didn’t know what to do with them all. He grabbed socks and underwear, jeans and a flannel shirt to bring downstairs. He found Rick still standing at the island.
“Were you at least going to try to make it a challenge?” Dan asked, with humor he didn’t feel. This whole day felt weird. The Friday after Thanksgiving, people were starting their holiday shopping, eating way too many leftovers, changing the decorations on their front lawns from the brown and orange of harvest to the red and green of Christmas, and here he was, handing clean clothes to someone who’d seen a family member shot to death in front of him. Too weird.
“You cheated. You didn’t say ‘ready, set, go’.”
Dan sighed, mocking the agitation he truly felt. “Ready, set, go on before I do it for you.” He held out the pile of clothes and when Rick took them, he lightly tapped Rick’s shoulder. He’d never done that before. “I’ll start dinner.”
“...’kay...thanks.” and Rick made his way to the downstairs bathroom and shut the door behind. Dan waited until he heard the water turn on before he started dinner.
“Leftovers.” he thought to himself as he pulled out the Tupperware. “Eating way too many leftovers.” He stacked the plastic containers on the island and got ready to make stir fry. He heard a car pull into their driveway and looked out the kitchen window into the darkness.
Carly.
Dan waited impatiently to see if Lynne got out of the passenger side, but only Carly got out and came to the door. Dan met her there and distractedly accepted her kiss. “Hey Babe...” He searched the darkness beyond her as she stepped inside, still expecting to see Lynne. “...what’s up?”
“Lynne’s on her way.”
Dan’s heart dropped. The water was still running in the shower, Rick had no idea what he was about to face. “How far behind you?”
“Not far.” From her voice, Carly understood the situation. “She called me and talked about what happened last night. She was ready to just dump the whole thing, Rick included. Then she decided to just come here and talk some things over with him. I told her I’d show up for moral support - for whoever needs it.” Dan saw that he was included in that statement - leave it to Carly to read more into his face than he intended to show. “So before Lynne gets here, and while Rick is still taking a shower, tell me what’s going on.”
Dan quickly catalogued what was going on, editing and paraphrasing where he felt he had to. “I told you Rick hasn’t dated in years. I don’t know why kissing Lynne freaked him out, but it did. And he REALLY doesn’t feel good.” As the final words were spoken, shower shut off and a few minutes later Rick appeared, drying his hair with a towel. He didn’t see Carly at first.
“Dan, I threw my clothes down the chute...Carly.” He saw her then and the apprehension registered on his face. His eyes scanned the little house. “Is Lynne here?” Not now...not now...
“Not yet.” Carly tried to sound upbeat. “She’s not too far behind me. We wanted to come over and make dinner for you guys, and Lynne made more pie she’s bringing over too. You feel better?”
“Uhh, yeah. A little. My whole body hurts.” Rick’s eyes went to Dan then. ‘what did you tell her?’ he was desperate to know. As Dan tried to think of a way to casually tell Rick what he’d told Carly without it sounding obvious, another car pulled into the driveway.
Lynne had arrived.
Rick looked from Dan to Carly and back again. Rick had experienced enough sudden awkward silences in his not so distant past to know something was up. Lynne wasn’t here for just pie and dinner.
But she was here. Five years of hiding and loneliness finally seemed to be at an end for Rick when he met Lynne, and he wasn’t about to let anybody - himself included - spoil it without a struggle.
He tossed the towel out of his hand backwards through the bathroom door, grabbed his jacket and pulled his boots on, then headed outside to face his fear - and his hope.
Lynne sat a moment in her car, wondering if she shouldn’t just turn around again
and leave. What was she doing - other than making a fool of herself. What was she doing
here when it was pretty obvious last night that Rick didn’t want to be around her
anymore? Nothing changed, did it? Nothing seemed to go right, no matter what she did.
She’d about convinced herself to turn tail back home when the door to the little house opened, light streaming from the kitchen into the darkness outside. And Rick came out, tugging on his coat.
He shut the door behind himself, and Lynne was glad for the return of the darkness. It would make the ensuing conversation that much easier. She pocketed her keys and got out of the car, glancing up to make sure no Watchers were in the kitchen window. Then she stood by her door, and Rick stopped at her front bumper.
Less than twenty four hours, and Rick had forgotten the feeling he got just looking
at Lynne. A strange, comfortable, familiar, scary sense of this was where he wanted to
belong. She looked a little wary and Rick thought about how she’d already had her heart
broken. He realized what it must’ve took for her to even decide to come here after what
he’d done to her the night before.
But she was here.
“I’m glad you’re here...” he said, and the scant kitchen light reflected in her eyes as she looked at him. Gauging his sincerity, he thought. Why was he glad? Where was he hoping to go from here? “After last night...” his eyes dropped to the ground. The air was nearly electric around them with mutual anxiety. What could he say to get them past the pain? “Take a walk with me?”
“Your hair’s wet, you’ll catch cold.” It sounded in Lynne’s voice that she was surprised as well that she’d said it.
“Won’t take long.” Rick offered, knowing once he said what he needed to say - the truth - that she wouldn’t want to hang around anymore anyway.
Won’t take long. Lynne steeled herself for dumping. “Okay...” She
walked to the back of her car, at the foot of the driveway, and waited for Rick to come
even with her, then lead slightly down the road toward the farm. He’d be polite,
concerned, take all the blame, and still leave her feeling like a hundred miles of bad road.
Just get it over with, she thought.
“I left you last night - -” Rick started and Lynne thought here it comes. “I haven’t been with - and I mean slept with, dated, touched or hardly talked to - a woman I’m not blood related to in a long time. When we kissed last night, all I could think was how much I wanted to sleep with you. And ‘you’ weren’t even the most important part of the equation. And that wouldn’t be fair. That would be using you. And any man who used you would be a fool.”
Okay. Not what Lynne was expecting.
“I’m sorry Lynne. I left last night because I was scared and embarrassed and knew I was a breath away from ruining something and hurting someone I care about. And it terrifies me to have something and someone I am so afraid of losing. I keep expecting to mess it up. I keep waiting for you to realize that I’m just a farmhand who took one semester of community college and no more, with scars and calluses and the stink of manure on me day and night. You deserve better than that, you deserve better than me. And I’m waiting for you to realize that.”
Rick was already a pace ahead of Lynne, so when she stopped walking, it took another step or two for him to realize she was no longer with him. He turned and waited. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. He’d only ever dated Sandra, so he’d never been dumped, only had his heart ripped out and handed back to him on a spike.
So he waited for that.
Lynne took the few steps to be even with him, lifting her head slightly to have a better look at him in the darkness. “Well, that brings us to our second topic of the evening I guess.” She sounded - bitter? “Maybe I should’ve told you first thing, I don’t know. It doesn’t generally seem like something you bring up on a first date. If there’s going to be a problem, I guess it’s better I find out now while I can still leave with my pride.” She sounded - defensive?
A few things crossed Rick’s mind - divorce, children, dread disease - what could she be talking about that he’d have a problem with.
“I’ve never slept with anyone.” Lynne said abruptly. “And I will never sleep with anyone until it is my husband on our wedding night.” She sounded - proud. “So tell me right now how that stands with you because no man is worth wasting my time.”
There was nothing Rick could do but smile. She stood before him, hands on her hips, demanding an answer from him. Heartbroken, hell. Lynne knew herself and her mind and her wishes. This was a woman he wanted in his life. He folded his arms across his chest.
“I’ll tell you how it stands with me.” Rick tried to sound severe, but he couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. “Stands just where is should Lynne. You got a treasure in knowing what you want and how you’ll be treated.” He thought about the pictures in his wallet, and everything he should be telling her. “It stands just fine with me.”
Dan didn’t stop pacing until Rick and Lynne came back into the schoolhouse, Rick
taking her coat to hang it up like he’d never done with his own jacket until right now.
“Getting cold out.” Lynne said, as though they’d only been out for a casual stroll, and not
the longest five minutes of Dan’s recent existence. “Are you making dinner?” she asked
Carly. “I’ll help you.”
“Rick you look like you need to sit down.” Carly said. “Dan said you aren’t feeling well?”
“Feel like I’m gettin’ the flu.” Rick said. Not a lie. His body felt exactly like it did whenever he got the flu.
“Well go on and sit down. Danny’ll bring you in some tea. It should be ready now.” So Rick went to the couch and sank gratefully into the cushions to pull his boots off. He kept his eyes on Lynne as she helped Carly turn Thanksgiving leftovers into dinner again, until Dan was in his line of sight offering him a cup of tea.
Dan raised his eyebrows. Well?
And Rick nodded. Everything’s OK. Then he smiled as he took the tea, and Dan smiled too, happy for him. He grabbed Rick’s boots to set on the mat at the kitchen door and turned his smile on Carly that all was right with the world.
Dinner wasn’t much - stir fry, no surprise there. But when Lynne brought in two plates, one for Rick, one for herself , she sat right down on the couch, right next to Rick. He smiled at her and she smiled back and handed him a fork and napkin out of her shirt pocket.
Dan was so surprised he stopped dead in the kitchen and had to shake his head to clear the astonishment before he came to sit on the floor next to Carly in the overstuffed chair.
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Chapter Ten
Chapter Twelve
