Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series (14 page)

“Where are we going?”

“
To a homeless shelter. I like to
donate clothes and things that the boys have outgrown. I have some
costumes from last year that we didn’t use in a box in the back.”
My thumb pointed over my shoulder. “I wanted to bring them down
last week, but forgot. A kid shouldn’t have to worry about whether
or not he’s getting a costume.”

“I used to make mine. My mother said it
wasn’t worth the expense since I’d only wear it once.”

“You celebrate Halloween over there?”

“Yes,” he rolled his eyes, “We did it long
before your country was even thought of. You must think we are all
animals or something.”

I laughed, “I never thought about it.”

Passing the other missions lining the rugged
avenue, we saw people lying on the ground, covered in layers of
dirty clothes and newspapers. They didn’t bother to look up at the
passing cars.

The donation area I was accustomed to using
had boards over the windows but it looked like the main entrance
was open. Evan surprised me by helping to carry my donations
inside. The way he reacted to the neighborhood, I was sure he’d
want to wait in the car.

We crossed through the entry into a front
office absent of people and furniture. Ever the gentleman, Evan
grabbed two folded chairs that were leaning against an otherwise
empty wall and set them up before plopping heavily into the nearest
seat. It teetered momentarily before settling back on all fours. He
stretched out his long legs and crossed his feet. He was so
handsome, which made him easy to watch.

“What is your all-time favorite movie?” He
asked.

Anything River Phoenix ever made. I’ve
always loved
Dog Fight
A lot.”
I thought more carefully. “My second all-time favorite would have
to be James Dean movies. I’m more of a person-fan than
film.”

“You’re a Dean fan?” He gave a
half-smile.

“Isn’t everyone?” I sat down in the
chair beside him, wondering if anyone had ever told Evan that he
had a similar rugged sexiness. I turned to stare at the opposite
wall, thinking.
Well, it wasn’t going to be
me.

Evan offered me a piece of gum, which I
declined, as he explained his interest in all things relating to
movies, save the notoriety. “I love what I do, but the rest…no
thank you. One day, the fans will grow up and walk away. I don’t
want to be that person who can’t get on after.”

As we hunched together talking, a closed
door flew open. A thin woman passed by, locking eyes with me—she
looked so sad—as she made her way out the front door without a
sound. A moment later, an older woman with gorgeous coffee-toned
skin and tight, curly hair walked into the waiting area and set her
kind gaze on us.

Her name tag said she was Evelyn, the Women
and Children’s Shelter Coordinator. She showed us into another
office. More like a storage area, where we were to leave the two
boxes. As I sorted the holiday pieces, I came across a red foam
clown nose and mindlessly put it on. It was part of Noah’s costume
from last year. Next, I took out the giant furry jumpsuit with a
hood and antlers to fold.

“That look really works for you.” Evan
teased. “What on earth is that?” He pointed to the long furry blob
I held.

“Technically, it’s a deer jumpsuit.” I
reached down into the box and pulled out the green collar with
small silver bells on it. “Noah wanted to be a reindeer last year.”
I reached up and plucked off the red nose. “Rudolph, actually.”

He’d put a lot of thought into last years’
costume. He was going to the high schools Halloween dance and
planned on winning the costume contest. But then, everything with
his dad happened and none of us could stomach the idea of dressing
up. Part of me hoped he would reconsider this year, so I stuffed
the red foam nose into my purse.

Evelyn apologized for the shelters current
state, explaining that the main drop off area had been vandalized a
few nights before and they were having trouble funding the repairs.
In the meantime, all donations were going through the front
office.

Evan surprised me once again, when without a
word, he calmly pulled out his phone. I wouldn’t have paid any
attention to his conversation, except that I heard him use the
shelters name and address. While I got information about food and
Christmas donations, he arranged to have a crew come out and fix
the broken windows and repaint the vandalized area. My heart
melted.

A clamor arose from a long hallway. It
sounded like a door slamming. Evan leaned forward, one hand
crossing protectively over front of me.

A crying woman charged out, screaming.
Evelyn, Evan, and I moved off to one side of the room to continue
our conversation. I tried, and failed, not to listen to her ranting
as she paced in the waiting area outside the office. From what I
gathered, she had lost custody of her daughter and could no longer
stay in the shelter since she had no child in her care. She was
raving over the injustice, blaming the centers poor legal counsel.
She spewed accusations about the fathers overbearing behavior
during her daughter’s birthday party. Pointing out a history of
physical abuse she had endured while they were together, naming the
old scars that marked her arms.

Just because he never hit her didn’t mean he
never would. She insisted it was only a matter of time. The worker,
who’d followed her out of the hallway, insisted the decision was
granted by an impartial arbitrator who was looking out for the best
interest of the child.

The woman’s focus shifted, now questioning
the arbiter. That man never liked her. He knew nothing about her
life or what she had been through. Who was he to keep her from her
own child? She referenced past addictions, only to maintain that
they were completely under control. I glanced at her then, noting
the obvious needle tracks in the crease of her elbow as she
insisted she was a different person. She was clean and there was no
reason why she should not be allowed to keep her little girl. They
would find a home as soon as she got a job.

The worker gave her to the option of calming
down or being thrown out. I was taken aback by her indifference as
the belligerent woman chose the second option—understanding that
she was being forced to leave the next morning anyway—and marched
out the door, sarcastically thanking everyone for ruining her
life.

The office was suddenly quiet again as the
disgruntled worker shook her head. Thinking she was alone, her
façade cracked. Her shoulders dropped and I knew she was not
indifferent at all. Her hopes were trampled with each step the
woman took out the door. Then, she turned towards the office,
seeing the open doorway and all of us inside.

She stood up a straight. “Sorry about
that.”

On the way
home
, Evan drew my attention to the Walk of Fame as we
passed over.

“Nope, never stopped there.” Not in all the
years that I’d lived in southern California.

He told me I was obligated to visit,
being that we were officially dating and he was determined to get a
star of his own someday. He said it was my duty as the
supportive
girlfriend
to go
with him, so he could show me the best ones. I agreed, as long as
it was on the nice end of the walk, away from the 101. A man was
recently murdered down there and the idea of walking through the
area for pleasure didn’t set well.

When we barged into
the family room, Marcus was still snoring. The sound was like
a freight train fighting a chainsaw. We sat at the table, sharing a
bottle of water. I watched his lips—the way they moved while he
spoke was captivating.

“Lily will be back any minute. I should wake
Marcus so we can leave when she gets here.”

“I’m nervous.”

“About Lily?” He asked. I nodded,
confirming. “She’s your friend, not your warden. Besides, we
haven’t even had a first date.”

“I’ll tell her later, after you guys
leave.”

Something about her attitude earlier made me
think she would not respond as calmly as I’d like. She could be a
bit over-protective and she’d definitely be surprised at my
about-face. Lily had always thought I should be more judicious and
made no secret of it.

“You know, we’re going to have to keep this
under wraps, anyway—telling only the people closest to us—the fewer
that know, the better.”

“Good thing I don’t know anyone.” I smiled,
but nerves triggered in my stomach.

Evan’s actions were a lucrative topic of
conversation. His personal relationships seemed to be a matter of
sheer importance to news agencies and adolescents across the
country, and I had an innate dislike for attention. Unless it was
Evan’s. That was just fine. But the situation was nothing to be
taken lightly.

The “gossip mongers” (as he liked to call
them) still had him and his ex-girlfriend linked. That was the
reason every single tween girl that came across us tried to give me
the stink-eye. I don’t think he noticed. In any case, I wouldn’t
mention it. It would sound like a complaint and Evan tried his best
to please me, which made me never want to protest anything.

“Why did you and Gretchen break up?” He
never talked about her.

“It was, well, let’s call it a difference of
opinion.”

I waited for the explanation.

“See, she thought I was insane for being
upset that, when she found out she was pregnant, she had an
abortion without talking to me. And because of that, along with
many other menial decisions she’d made over the course of the
relationship, I am of the opinion that she’s a horrible
person.”

He announced it so smoothly, I was
staggered.

“It wasn’t so much that she didn’t want
it—it’s not like I’m in a hurry to have kids—it was more that she
didn’t respect me enough to talk to me. She just did what she
wanted and told me after. Worse yet, she was surprised I got
angry.”

“You didn’t want her to have it?” Evan was
gorgeous. He’d make pretty babies.

“I don’t know. But t’was not meant to
be.”

There was a short rap at the door, followed
by keys rattling.

“Lily.”

“She’ll know something’s up if you’ve got
the jitters.” He laughed.

“She’ll know, anyway.” Obviously he hadn’t
figured out that I couldn’t keep anything from her for long. I
strolled to the couch at the same time she walked into the great
room.

“He’s still sleeping?” She pointed at
Marcus.

“I’m up!” Marcus yelled, suddenly erect.

I wondered how long he’d been awake but it
didn’t matter. Everyone who needed to know would by the end of the
day. Lily proceeded to encourage Marcus in waking up by beating him
with decorative pillows while I headed back to the kitchen to get
him some pain reliever and coffee.

Evan was already pouring a cup. “Where do
you keep the sugar bowl?”

That small moment of domesticity sent my
heart into double time. I understood very clearly why the young
girls went crazy over him. Maybe part of it was the characters he
played, as he insisted it must be. But he really did not understand
his own draw. He had a way, a charisma and magnetism, a presence
that sucked people in.

Like a compass must point north, I could not
look away. He brought an element of excitement to my practicality.
Maybe my best days weren’t behind me, after all. Maybe, just maybe,
there were a few nice ones ahead.

I reached into the cabinet and handed him
the small covered bowl.

Evan gave a quick wink that sent a jolt of
electricity through me. I licked my lips, unable to control my
anxious mouth when he turned towards me. My breathing picked up in
delightful anticipation. Already, there was familiarity to the
novel action. I watched him slowly move, unsure of the timing,
maybe. I thought I heard Lily come into the kitchen. She was
probably standing right behind me, but when Evan looked at me like
that—with his eyes gleaming, his lips curved in a wry smile—nothing
else mattered.

My fingertips pinched his shirt. The
sensation was dizzying. The quiver in my knees found its way into
my chest. Something about this guy . . . Every minute with him had
me enraptured. I had no capacity to think or measure any type of
action or reaction; I was in it, not beyond it, and I didn’t care
about anything else.

Waking

My eyes fly open when gravity
disappears. After a moment, I find the floor again with a
rattling
boom
.

Trace amounts of light slip through the
cracks of my compartment. Long scrapes vibrate beneath my prison in
uneven intervals. After a moment, the scraping repeats and stops
again. Occasionally I’m dragged over some sort of stumbling block.
The hard bottom of my box bulges from whatever’s beneath it,
digging into my side. Then, a small ascension before the plunge.
Each landing thrusts my head back against the seeming rock wall of
my tiny cell.

I’m at my limit, praying, struggling to
control the sobs as I’m taken closer to the unknown.

When the raised end of my compartment drops,
I know—one way or another—it’s going to be over soon.

My mind scrambles, struggling to recall the
things I know to do. I touch the blindfold, making sure it’s set in
the right spot and set my arms to one side, shoving my neck back
into the kinked position I woke up in. The straining motion makes
my head want to burst open. I ignore it, unable to afford the
distraction of self-awareness. With eyes loosely closed, resting
the same way I’ve seen corpses on TV shows, I work on tapering my
labored breath to one long, slow, pull.

The stuffy air is suddenly cool. I stop
breathing.