Just a Little (5-8) (14 page)

It wasn’t until the evening that I became so hungry that I couldn’t stand it any longer. I rolled off the mattress and trekked down the stairs. Luke, as I’d suspected, was planted firmly in the rocking chair, still “reading” that same old book.

He didn’t look up as I came down, so I didn’t bother saying anything. I retreated to the kitchen and made a sandwich, careful not to skimp on the turkey. I was feeling unusually carnivorous after Luke’s half-naked traipse through the living room earlier that day.

As I stood at the counter and sliced a tomato, I peeked up at Luke as he sat quietly in his chair.

Knowing that it would make the days pass much faster if I just got over myself (and stopped hating him for all the stupid things he’d done), I decided it was time to break the ice.

“Whatcha readin’ over there?” I placed a single slice of tomato on the bread.

For a moment, he didn’t seem to register that I’d even said anything, but his head eventually jerked up.

“Hmm?”

“Your book,” I started slicing again, “what is it?”

“Old photos,” he said, not setting it aside for even a second.

“Old photos of…?” I waited for him to elaborate, but he simply looked back to the book. Frustrated that he wasn’t even trying to make our stay together bearable, despite the fact that I was doing my best to be friendly, I forced the knife down one last time to finish off the tomato, but the blade missed and ripped through my finger instead.

I let go of a blood-curling scream as I dropped the knife to the floor. The pain only worsened as the moments passed; I was certain that I screamed a thousand obscenities in that very moment, but all I could do was bite back my tears as I searched frantically for a towel to soak up the steady stream of blood.

Luke jumped from his chair and ran to the kitchen, not faltering for a moment at the sight of all the blood. Unlike me, he didn’t bother searching the kitchen for a towel. He simply removed his shirt with a few fluid movements, held it under the faucet for a second, and then pressed his homemade compress against my hand.

“Luke,” I cried, and my body shook under his hold. The excruciating pain had gotten the best of me, and my impulses were no longer within my control. “Luke, it hurts.”

“Hey,” he said slowly, trying to silence my cries. “I know. It’s okay.” He held my hand tightly beneath his and continuously applied pressure. “Just try to relax, Jules.”

I tried to steady my breathing, but the effort was almost too much. With both of his hands tied up in nursing my fresh wound, Luke had no other way to comfort me but to keep his brown eyes fixed directly on mine. His stare didn’t waver for even a moment; he just stood there and watched me, and the sincerity in his eyes was all that I needed to let go and trust that I was going to be okay.

After a few long minutes of manual pressure to my hand, Luke finally diverted his stare and pulled the bloodied shirt away from my skin. The blood flow had stopped, so he lowered his head to examine the cut. Judging by the wave of relief that swept across his face, the injury must not have been as bad as he’d assumed.

“Good news,” he looked up to meet my stare once again. “You get to keep your finger.” He managed a small grin, but I could see that he hadn’t been so convinced of that fact five minutes earlier.

“Do I need stitches?” I tried to wipe my runny nose on the top of my arm.

“No,” he turned my hand to look at it again, “I really don’t think so. It’s nothing a little time shouldn’t heal.”

“Okay,” I reluctantly pulled my hand from his. I turned to the sink and ran my hand under a cold stream of water. Little by little, the dried blood washed itself away.

Luke followed me and watched as I cleaned it up, and his hand landed gently on the small of my back.

“Julie?” His voice was just as quiet as it had been moments earlier.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?” he dropped his face closer to mine. “I’m not a doctor. I can take you to the hospital if you’d rather—”

“I’m fine,” I tried not to blink excessively. I’d already cried enough; I didn’t want to cut loose another stream of tears, but it took everything I had to fight my reckless emotions from coming to the surface.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I swallowed hard, “it just hurts a little, that’s all.”

He nodded as if he understood, and I’m sure he did. After all, he’d suffered a whole lot more in his time than just a simple cut; the scars on his chest (and missing baby toe) were proof enough.

Luke left me alone in the kitchen to tend to my wound, but he returned several moments later with a first aid kit. The metal container was worn and aged, but it served its purpose. He sat it on the counter and opened it up, revealing all the essentials inside.

“May I?” he nodded at my hand.

“Yeah,” I said, taking a step closer.

I stood only inches away from him, holding my hand out so that he could properly tend to it. He moved his head a few times to try to find the best light, but his shadow kept blocking his view. Before I could suggest moving into the bathroom or somewhere with better lighting, he tucked his arms up underneath mine and raised me off the floor; he placed me safely on the countertop and pulled his body in close to mine.

It was hard to restrain a laugh, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“Sorry,” he said, almost frustrated, “couldn’t see a damn thing.”

“It’s okay,” I said, still holding my hand forward. My hand had become the least of my worries; suddenly my heart fluttered at the thought of how close we’d just gotten.

While I tried to control my raging hormones (I can’t count the times I thought of running my one good hand through his hair), Luke spent the next couple of minutes cleaning and treating my cut. He worked gently and efficiently, and it was almost too endearing. He seemed to care that he was doing something to help; he was finally getting the opportunity to take care of me.

Once I was bandaged up, Luke offered a hand to help me down from the counter. I took his hand and jumped down, but for some reason, I couldn’t seem to let go.

We both looked down at our linked hands, and one slow minute ticked by without a single movement on either of our parts. His thumb gently caressed my fingers as he reached forward with his one free hand and pulled me closer. I rested my head on his chest and closed my eyes as he finally pulled his hand away to wrap me completely inside his full embrace. I wrapped my arms around his waist and nuzzled my face against his shoulder—only then realizing that he was still shirtless, and I was letting myself slip back into his grip.

“Oh,” I suddenly pulled back. I looked around the room and searched for any excuse to put distance between our bodies. “My sandwich!”

“I wouldn’t eat that,” he said, and he wasn’t the least bit jilted by the fact that I’d just broken our hug to reclaim my food.

“No, it’s fine,” I put one final slice of bread on the top to finish it off. “A little blood never killed anyone.”

Luke looked as though he was about to make an argument, but I kept a firm grasp on the bloodstained sandwich as I darted from the room.

I didn’t know what had just happened back there, but I knew it wasn’t good; Luke and I were getting close again. If there was anything I’d learned about getting close to Luke, it was that I’d always end up getting hurt.

And Luke wasn’t going to hurt me again.

Period.

CHAPTER FIVE

Sunday, April 07 | 6:45 p.m.

Only half of what I’d made was edible, so I trashed the other half.

It wasn’t long after I finished cramming the last of my sandwich in my mouth that I looked up to find Luke standing at the top of the stairs. My cheeks were packed full, and I tried to chew, but I’d overstuffed myself. Luke watched me with a hint of amusement in his eyes; he seemed intrigued that I had absolutely no shame about my pitiful eating habits.

“Whaddaya want?” I tried to talk and chew at the same time.

“How’s your hand?” he nodded at the bandage he’d just helped secure no less than ten minutes before.

“I’ll survive,” I said, finally able to swallow what was left of my turkey sandwich.

Luke watched me with a simple smile, but his expression didn’t say much. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to refrain from laughing at me, or if there was something else on his mind. Either way, he seemed far too amused for the moment.

“Do you wanna get out of the cabin tonight?” he leaned against the wall at the top of the stairs.

“What are you suggesting, exactly?” I wiped my crumby hands down the front of my jeans. “Last time I checked, Piqua doesn’t offer much in terms of entertainment. And I’m not—let me repeat myself one more time,
not
—going hiking. That one-mile walk to and from the car is the most exercise you’re getting out of me on this trip.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of hitting the old drive-in just out of town.”

“The old what?”

“The drive-in theatre,” he said, and I still couldn’t tell if he was being serious. I hadn’t seen any such thing on the town map back at the diner. “It’s one of the last few remnants of a once great city. It’s about ten miles out, but it’s worth the drive. They only have one screen, and there’s no telling what movie they’ll play tonight, but they don’t start the film until eight. If we leave now, we can make it in plenty of time.”

“You wanna see a movie?” I asked, trying to figure out if that was Luke’s way of sidestepping the boredom, or if it was some backward way of asking me on a date.

“If it’s something you’d like to do, yeah,” he shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t propping him against the wall. “What do you think?”

“It’ll be late when we get back.”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“The walk back to the cabin’ll be dark.”

“Yeah,” he said again, but he still wasn’t fazed.

“Aren’t you even a little scared?”

“No,” he said, and then dropped his head with a smile. “Are you?”

I took a moment to consider the facts. Luke wanted to go out. He’d taken the time to come up and ask me nicely to join him, and if I didn’t go, he wouldn’t either. Obviously he wanted to get out, so who was I to deprive him of that? Besides, I didn’t hate the idea of spending an evening away from the cabin. It’d be fun.

My only concern was that one-mile stretch of woods between the car and the house. I’d be lying if I said that the idea of walking that path in the dark didn’t terrify me to my very core.

“Let’s go,” I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

“Alright,” he watched as I rolled off the bed. He took the first few steps, and I followed right behind. It wasn’t until he was halfway down that he stopped and turned back, so I halted right behind him. “Just think,” he said, and I could hear a minuscule amount of mockery in his tone, “if you’re good, I’ll let you get some popcorn.”

“Ah,” I wanted to kick him down the six remaining stairs, “how sweet of you.”

Sunday, April 07 | 7:40 p.m.

We finally pulled off onto a large piece of flatland just south of Piqua. It must’ve been the place to be on a weekend night because it looked as though every person within a fifty-mile radius showed up to enjoy the film.

Luke paid for our tickets at the drive-up admission booth and then made a turn to start looking for a prime viewing location.

He weaved the BMW through a few rows of parked cars before he found a space at the end of the fourth row. He pulled into the spot, put the car in park, and then turned to me. “You still want that popcorn?”

“Of course,” I opened my door, “do you even have to ask?”

Luke and I got out of the car and met just at the front. As I started walking toward the concession stand at the front of the property, Luke reached forward and grabbed my arm.

“What?”

He let his eyes wander across the field as he looked at the all of the parked cars. He watched as people gathered and talked, and he even smiled as groups of children ran to and from the concession stands.

“Everything okay?” I tried to meet his gaze. He nodded a couple of times, and then he looked down at me, and a bigger smile curved on his lips.

“Here,” he reached into his pocket. He pulled a few bills out of his jeans, handed them to me, and nodded at the well-lit building up by the screen. “Go on. Go get what you want.”

I turned to look at the building and then back to him.

“Alone?”

“You’re safe here, Julie,” he looked around again. “You don’t need me hovering over your shoulder every time you move. Just keep your eyes open, and be smart.”

“Okay,” I looked down at the wad of cash he’d just given me. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“No, just get what you want and hurry back. I’ll be waiting.”

As I started to walk away, I threw a look over my shoulder to make sure Luke was really letting me wander off on my own. He took a few steps backward and settled himself on the hood of the car, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the large, white screen. He almost looked awestruck by the features of the drive-in. He was enamored by it, and I had absolutely no idea why.

Making my way through the crowd of kids, teenagers, and couples, I managed to reach the concession stand a few minutes later. It was nothing special, just a small brick building set up a few feet away from the enormous projection screen. There was a single window on the front of the building where the two workers, both girls no younger than me, served hungry moviegoers one at a time.

I stood in line for a few long minutes and watched over my shoulder for Luke. I kept waiting to see him hiding behind a car, peeking up occasionally to see if I’d run away. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find him ducking behind a trash can or even army crawling through the crowd. It was too uncharacteristic of Luke to let me have that kind of freedom—no strings attached.

When I stood in line for five minutes and still hadn’t spotted him, I assumed that meant he actually trusted me enough to walk away without fleeing.

Finally it was my turn to order, and I asked for a large bag of popcorn. I paid the girl at the other end of the raised counter. She passed me my change, $4.75, with a smile and a nod of thanks.

With my order in hand, I followed the others to the side of the building to dress my popcorn. I stopped at a small table and pumped a few too many squirts of butter into the bag.

As I turned on my heel to head back to the car, a silver box caught my eye. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it until that moment, but there it was stuck to the side of the building plain as day.

I looked around again to see if Luke was in sight, but I didn’t see his face anywhere. I tucked the bag of popcorn in my arm and cradled it against my side as I opened my hand to count the change I’d gotten from the cashier. Carrying the three quarters to the pay phone on the side of the building, I looked over my shoulder once again. I picked up the receiver, inserted the change, and quickly dialed the only number that came to mind.

It only rang through once before I heard a small bit of static.

“Hello?”

“Mattie,” I whispered, turning into the pay phone so that no one could see my face.

“Julie,” my cousin said, “oh my God! Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I can’t stay on,” I said, still whispering. “I only have a few seconds, and I’m not supposed to be calling. I got a minute away from Luke, and I wanted to check in.”

“Are you safe?” he asked, and he sounded as if he was struggling to speak through tears. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I took deep breaths. “What’s Charlie told you?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay,” I said, not holding back for a second. Matt deserved to know as much as I could tell him. “We’re settled in. We’re about six hundred miles out of Oakland in a little town called Piqua. It’s not anything to brag about, but it’s okay, I guess.” I tried to smile, but just knowing he was on the other end of the call brought tears to the surface. “How’re things there? Has anything changed?”

“We’re safe. No sightings,” he said quickly. “The town’s on high alert. They’ve shut down all the businesses and cancelled school—”

“Okay,” I hated that I had to cut our call so short, “listen, I have to go, but I’ll do my best to reach you again as soon as possible.”

“Julie,” he said, and I could hear his heavy breaths as they passed through the phone, “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” I felt a tear creep down my cheek, “me, too.”

Before he had time to say another word, I hung up the phone and turned back to the crowd. I half-expected to turn straight into Luke, but he was still nowhere in sight. I made my way back through the growing group of moviegoers, feeling uneasy and a little guilty, and I finally reached the fourth row. Luke was still seated on the hood of the car, and he smiled as I walked up to join him.

“I said I didn’t want anything,” he eyed the large popcorn bag.

“I know,” I took a fistful and shoved it in my mouth. “That’s why I didn’t get the jumbo size.” After I managed to chew up the fistful of popcorn without swallowing it whole, I turned back to Luke. I looked behind him and noticed that the top was down on his loaner sports car. “What’s with the dropped top?”

“I thought it’d be more enjoyable this way,” he said, and I agreed. It’d be quite an experience to sit in the convertible with my feet kicked out the window while I enjoyed a classic movie with a friendly(ish) face at my side. “Movie’s about to start,” Luke checked his watch.

I took that as a hint that we should get settled in, so we both retreated to our sides of the car. I, like any normal human being, opened my door and slid inside. Luke, as if suddenly possessed by a sixteen-year-old version of himself, jumped over his door and into the driver’s seat.

We settled in, tuned the radio into the drive-in station and watched as the projection began almost perfectly on time. Only a few minutes into the previews, Luke reached over to take a handful of popcorn, and I bit back the urge to swat his hand.

Other than the subtle movements required for stealing my food, Luke didn’t move much during the two-hour showing of
Singin’ in the Rain
. I did my best to keep my eyes from looking anywhere else but at the screen, but it was much easier to watch Luke as he sat comfortably in the driver’s seat. He’d let his guard down. He was too enthralled with the show to notice that I couldn’t tear my eyes off of him.

Sometime toward the end of the film, Luke tucked both of his hands up under his head as he looked on at the screen, still oblivious to my stare. I couldn’t help but notice how happy he seemed; he was completely at peace.

Sunday, April 07 | 10:45 p.m.

Luke and I got back to the cabin sometime around eleven; it had been dark for hours, so the walk from the car to the house was probably the most terrifying experience of my life to date. Just like he had the first time he walked me through the woods back in Oakland, Luke took my hand, for no other reason than to guide me along in the dark, and helped me find my way from the car.

After we were safely out of the dark and back in the cabin, Luke shut the door and dropped his keys on a nearby hook.

“Thanks for the movie,” I twisted my lips.

I didn’t know what else to say. I could’ve thanked him for letting me have a few minutes of peace and quiet, letting me go off on my own, or finally trusting me enough to loosen his grip, but all I could do was express my thanks for the night out.

“Sure,” he headed back to his usual rocking chair, “you heading up to bed?”

I looked up at the loft for a minute and then back to him, already settled in and reaching for his photo book.

“Luke,” I watched as he opened the front cover, “what’s in that thing that’s kept your attention for the past couple days?”

He ran his fingers across a page and then looked up, “Hmm?”

Just like he’d been the first time I’d inquired, he seemed perfectly unaware of anything but the book in his hands.

“Luke?”

“Oh,” he shrugged, but he never tore his gaze away from the page, “family pictures.”

“Your family?” I asked, coming closer.

“Yeah,” he still hadn’t looked up. He simply kept his head low and flipped through the same old pages he’d been flipping through since we’d arrived two days earlier.

“Can I see?”

His head suddenly jerked up, and he watched me in complete shock; the expression on his face looked as if I’d just asked him to strip down to nothing but his socks. He looked horrified by the question, but the horror wore off after a brief minute.

“You want to look through my family photo album?”

“Why not?” I jumped over the back of the couch and landing softly on the middle cushion.

“It wouldn’t mean anything to you.”

“That’s not true,” I patted the cushion next to mine. “Come sit with me. Show me what’s kept you fascinated these past couple of days.”

He watched me hesitantly but eventually stood and took a seat on the couch. Careful not to brush my legs, and even more cautious about how much distance he kept between us, he looked at me from the corner of his eye.

“Okay,” he opened the first page.

There were only two pictures pressed beneath the old crinkly plastic. The first was a faded photo of a young woman, maybe in her twenties, as she stood in an open field wearing a beautiful sundress and an even prettier smile.

“My mom,” he pointed to the picture. “This was a few years before she met Dad; it was about a year before she joined the force.”