Grace Lost (15 page)

“What’s so funny?” Boggs asked and
helped himself to the seat next to me.  He took my free hand in his and
squeezed, letting me know we were okay.

“The Drunken Cowboy here claims
he’s sixty-three and the redhead likes spiked cocoa,” I said and took a large
drink myself.  “I guess age is funny when you’re drunk?”  I giggled.

“Looks like she’s not the only
one,” Boggs teased.  “Nice outfit Gus.”

“At least I have clothes,
Bogsie.”  Gus looked at Emilie.  “Should I tell them?”

Emilie shook her head no.

“Tell us what?” I asked.

“
Nothin
’”
he said.

Emilie started laughing in a
girlish fit, and fought to catch her breath as we all stared.  Boggs
grabbed a corner of the afghan and pulled it over himself, threatening to
expose my legs and possibly more depending on where my shirt was
situated.  I tugged back on it, so he lay down and rested his head in my
lap, looking up at the ceiling.

“He’s thirty eight, by the way,”
whispered Emilie. 

Gus nudged her.  “You weren’t
supposed to tell, Miss twenty-something.”

I swallowed my cocoa, starting to
feel warm inside from the liquor.  I absently ran my fingers through
Boggs’ clean-but-damp curls.  The topic changed to what we had all done in
our adult lives.  My story was the least interesting.  Having only
experienced briefly working in a coffee shop since graduating high school,
there wasn’t much to say.  Boggs mentioned his time away at college,
skipping the part about his fling and its devastating consequences, and his
major in computer engineering.  Emilie had been raising her little
brother, so like me she had skipped college, but had enjoyed a job during the
daytime with special needs kids at an equestrian therapy camp.  Gus had
already finished nursing school before he joined the Army, and had enlisted in
hopes of going to medical school on the GI Bill.  He left after his first
tour and fell in love with a married woman.  He let it drop before
offering any more information.  So, we decided Emilie could teach us to
ride horses we didn’t
have,
Gus could take care of us
if we get sick, I could make coffee, and Boggs was just SOL.

It felt good, having a semi-normal
conversation while the world around us was falling apart.  I eventually
made Boggs return upstairs to find something decent to wear and he had come
back in just a pair of shorts.  Soon we were all sitting on the floor around
the coffee table.  Boggs had found a few decks of cards and Gus shuffled
them in preparation for teaching us all how to play ‘Shanghai.’

Emilie took our empty cocoa mugs
to the kitchen.  She returned with plastic tumblers full of bottled juice
that tasted oddly like Vodka, although she denied any tampering, and a box of
blueberry Pop Tarts.  We sat playing cards, drinking, and snacking for a
long while.

I yawned, the alcohol making me
sleepy.  One by one my companions joined me in displaying fatigue.  Gus
stopped shuffling, and set the cards in the center of the table.  “I think
we’re all tired.  We should head upstairs, try to get some sleep.  We
can regroup in the morning. Sound ok?”

Boggs yawned in
exaggeration. 
“Sounds good, Buddy.”

Emilie chimed in. “Should we have
a code word?  Like if one of us wakes up and one of those things is trying
to get in?  Should we yell a word that means
wake the eff up
?”

Gus stood, held his hand out to
help her up, and chuckled.  
“Darlin’.
 
If you wake up and one of those things is near, you should yell
wake the
fuck up
!”   She smacked him playfully.  They were obviously
hitting it off. 

“We should turn the fireplace off,
and blow out the candles,” said Boggs.  “Why don’t you guys head upstairs
and I’ll double check window security?  Zoe, can you put a candle at the
top of the stairs so I can see?”

I nodded, followed by another
yawn.  I was still feeling weak, and was ready to sleep for a long
stretch.  Gus followed Emilie up the stairs and they both went into the
same room.  The door clicked shut and I heard Emilie giggle.

“You should head up Zoe. 
I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Kay.  I’ll do the
candle. 
Boggs?”
  I paused and he looked at
me.  “Please hurry?”

He kissed my cheek. 
“Ok.”  I watched him walk toward the front door. I climbed the stairs
while the firelight still illuminated the room, and fetched the candle that was
still aglow in our bedroom.  The first floor of the house went black when
Boggs shut the propane fireplace off, causing my heartbeat to speed.  I
stood at the top of the stairs holding the candle and watched Boggs walk up
toward me.  He looked almost frightening as the flame from the candle I
held flickered across his face and chest.  He met me at the top of the
stairs and took the candle from my hands.

“Boggs?”
I asked.

“Hmm?”

“When did you get a tattoo?”

“At college.
  Do you like it?”

“Actually, ya.”

He smiled at me. “Zoe, go ahead
and climb into bed and I’ll blow out the candle.”

“I’m scared, Boggs.  What if
they get in and we don’t hear?”  Even I could hear the fear in my own
voice.

We walked into the bedroom and
Boggs set the candle down on the vanity and stepped closer to me.  “Zo,
I’ll keep you safe.  If you want, I’ll stay awake while you sleep. I can
sit up in the chair in the corner, or lay with you. You name it.”  
He took my hands in his.

“Just stay near. You can’t stay
awake, Boggs.  You have circles under your eyes that have circles of their
own.”

He straightened his arms out,
still holding my hands, and kissed my forehead. “I promise I’ll sleep with an
ear open, if I sleep.”

I nodded.  “Kay.”

“Lay down, the candle’s going
out.”

Boggs had turned the covers down
when he had come back to get dressed, so I climbed into bed and scooted to the
far side with my back to the middle of the bed.  I was too exhausted to
care that I had probably just mooned the man who thought he was falling in love
with me.  The room went dark and I closed my eyes.  I felt Boggs’
weight added to the mattress and the bed creaked.  He pulled the covers up
over me, and the heaviness of them was comforting.

“Boggs?”
I whispered.

“Hmm?” he vocalized, sleepily.

“My feet are so cold.”

He scooted closer, and I could
sense him above me, looking down in the dark.  “Do you want me to warm you
up?” he asked sleepily.

“Can you just hold me?”

I shifted my weight to my other
side, facing him.  He put an arm around me and held me close.  I
rested my head on his bare chest and listened to his heartbeat. 
“Boggs?”
I whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think we’ll make it
through this?”

Boggs took a deep breath before
answering.  “If I have any say in it, Zoe Kate, we’ll make it
through.  One day at a time.” 

When I woke, the cabin was quiet
and I was alone in the bedroom.  I was afraid to call out for anyone so
instead quietly got out of bed and walked to the hallway.  I listened and
heard Boggs and Emilie talking softly from downstairs.  I walked to the
bathroom where I found some toothpaste and used my finger to scrub my
teeth.  For the first time in many days, I looked at my reflection in the
mirror.  My eyes seemed different.  If it’s true that the eyes are
the window to the soul, then my soul had been forever changed since the dead
had risen.  My face looked thinner than usual.  I was pale.  I
wasn’t very impressed with myself.  I stepped to the claw foot tub I had
admired the day before and saw that the dirty clothes were gone.  I turned
the old fashioned faucet on.  It was the type that spewed cold and hot
water separately, forming two streams of water.  I had only seen a faucet
like it once before, at a very old hotel in the San Juan Islands of Puget
Sound.  While the bath drew, I stepped back to the mirror and took my
oversized flannel shirt off.  I stared at myself in the silvered glass,
wondering how I looked compared to other women.  I had always thought my
shoulders were too wide, my breasts too small, and my feet too large.  My
skin had always been pale, my hair an unremarkable medium blonde, and my
features overall rather boring.  For the briefest of moments I wondered
what I’d look like if I was one of
them
.  I shook the image of a
living-dead-Zoe out of my mind as quickly as possible.  I wrapped my hair
around itself near the top of my head and secured it loosely with a hair band I
had kept around my wrist. 

Done critiquing myself, I stepped
to the bathtub and tested the water with my hand.  It was hot, almost too
much so, but I stepped in and lowered myself below the water line.  
It burned my hip, and I imagined that the pain of the hot water could only help
the wound to heal.  I realized I had forgotten to grab the Hibiclens that
Gus had suggested I use to wash my hip.

There was a light knock on the
door.  “Zoe?” called Emilie. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, Em,” I called back. 
“It’s unlocked.”

Emilie opened the door halfway and
crept in.  She was holding my undergarments that I had left in the
bathtub.  “I hand washed these.  Hope you don’t mind?”

I smiled.  “Not at all,
you’re awesome.  Thanks.”

“I washed everything and set it
all by the fire to dry, but the heavier stuff’s still damp,” she said followed
by a soft smile.

“Oh, hey, can you hand me that
cleaner Gus wants me to use?  It’s next to the sink.”

She turned and picked up the
little blue bottle and handed it to me.  “Want me to look at your hip?”
she asked.

I turned on my side just a bit,
raising the wound on my hip just out of the water.  “Think it looks any
better?” I asked. 

“Hmm, there’s a worm coming out of
it,” she said then started laughing.

“Very funny,” I said with a
snicker.

“Seriously, there’s no worm and it
looks a little less swollen,” she said.  “I’ll grab a wash cloth and let
you do the scrubbing.  I don’t want to hurt you.”  She walked to a
cabinet located behind the door and found a faded pink rag, which she tossed to
me.  “Just holler if you need anything else, ok?” she said before leaving
the room.

I poured some of the red soap from
the bottle onto the washcloth and gently scrubbed my hip, wincing from the
pain.  I found a bottle of bubble bath on the floor behind the tub and
added some to the water.  I enjoyed the floral scent that surrounded me.
After several minutes of soaking, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a
towel.  I found a brush in a drawer and decided to not care who else had
used it.  I detangled my hair and wove it into a braid that wrapped around
my left shoulder, resting on my chest.  Once I was dry, I shimmied into my
clean blue panties and bra and dabbed some Neosporin on my hip.  Like
Emilie had said, it wasn’t as swollen and seemed to be healing except for some
faint green streaks spreading outward.  I’d need to remember to ask Gus
about that.  I went to put my flannel shirt back on over my underwear, but
it was gone. 
Funny, Emilie
I thought to myself.   I
opened the bathroom door and peeked out. Seeing the coast was clear, I tiptoed
across the hall to my room and walked in, shutting the door quickly. I sensed
someone watching me and turned to see Boggs lying on the bed, his head propped
on the pillows.  He had his hands behind his head and a large grin on his
face.

“I’ve always loved you in blue,”
he said, still smiling.

I felt my cheeks warm, and stood
there awkwardly.  “Thanks,” I whispered. 

His smile faded and his gaze
became intense as he watched me turn to walk toward the armoire in search of
clothes.  “You look like Heaven itself,” he whispered. I could feel him
drinking me in with his eyes.  I heard him shift his weight on the bed as
I walked to the large cabinet.  I opened the doors and looked at the
various items hanging within.  Listening to his footsteps approach, I was
too distracted to focus on choosing something to wear.  I concentrated on
just breathing.  I could sense him close behind me.  “You smell like
Heaven,” he breathed softly against the skin of my bare back.   He
used his arms to pull me around to face him, and kissed me deeply.  “You
taste like Heaven,” he mumbled as he moved his mouth to my neck and brushed his
lips lightly against my skin, savoring me.  He pulled me close, and I
allowed my body to relax, not resisting this time.  He moved his mouth
back to my lips and kissed me with passion I had never known before.  I
wrapped my arms around him and found myself trying to explore his body through
his clothes.  He broke our embrace and lifted his shirt over his head,
then lifted me into his arms and carried me to the bed.  He set me down on
the mattress and gently lowered himself on top of me.  My breathing
quickened and I used both of my palms to explore his bare chest, tracing the
lines of his tattoo.  I felt his hips pressing against me longingly and my
body responded in kind, causing him to groan loudly.  He moved to my ear,
his tongue tracing its outline. The room disappeared along with the rest of the
world, and all that was left was me and the man I had known all of my life. 
He latched onto my neck with his mouth, tasting my skin with his tongue. He
moved his mouth to my earlobe again and his hands were suddenly on my back
fighting with the hooks of my bra strap. He whispered softly into my ear, “are
you sure you want this?”  His hands paused while he waited for my
reply.  I nodded against his cheek, and he slipped my bra down my
arms.  My fear was leaving me as our bodies took over.  My nipples
were erect as he cupped my breasts in his large hands, taking me in with all of
his senses.  I hadn’t realized a tear had fallen down my cheek until he
wiped it away with his thumb.