Save Me (11 page)

B
utch is having a bad day. The first of many, I suppose. He’s not sweet or angry, which makes me worry he’s defeated. The doctor said six to nine months. We still have a lot of time with him. Months.

He can barely walk. Jason helps him to the kitchen table where Jay and I are making a picture with glue and glitter. It’s everywhere and the old Butch would have bitched a fit about it, but the man in front of me barely seems to notice.

“What hurts?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” Butch’s voice is weak. “And my goddamned knee,” he adds. This is the beginning of the downhill portion of our trip together. Butch coughs. It goes on and on and the mere sound of it rattles my own insides.

“That’s new,” I say.

“Nice, huh?” Butch seems broken.

I get up from the table to find the dustpan and brush. Jay yawns and rubs his eyes and Jason takes him into the spare room and tucks him in for a nap. I silently clean up the glitter, although I kind of like it strewn all over. Maybe the colorful dust can hold off death. Butch coughs again, reminding me death makes its own schedule.

I finish collecting the glitter and make Butch lunch. I’m tiptoeing around him until Marie arrives and relief is injected into me. My escape…

“I’m going to go make lasagna for dinner,” I announce, and grab my bag, practically running out of the house.

“Do you mind if I come with you?” Jason asks, and I shake my head without really understanding the question. He’s going to come to my house. The one Noble and I share.

“Pastor Johnson is going to come by later,” I say, still ignoring the fact that Jason is coming with me.
What month is it? March. What did Noble say he’s doing today? Plowing…yes, plowing. Noble is plowing a field right now.

I walk out the door and Jason follows me. Once we exit the shed, he steps next to me. I don’t know if it’s being out of that house, away from death, or because I just love him being next to me, but I’m suddenly lighter and genuinely happy. A misbehaving smile occupies Jason’s lips, like he’s infiltrated enemy territory by entering Noble’s house. He can be such an ass.

“Don’t be so proud of yourself. No one ever said you can’t come in our house.”

“Oh, Annie, I’m not proud, and I think you did tell me once I’m not welcome.” He takes the screen door handle from my hand and holds it open for me. I walk into the house, my house.

“Do you want a beer?” I say, walking toward the refrigerator.

“It’s two o’clock.”

“Is that a no?” I open one for myself and take a long sip of it.

“I’ll take one,” Jason says, still smiling. He’s escaping Butch with me and it feels like home. It’s our history. Jason and Annie running from the darkness, together the whole way. Well, maybe not the whole way.

Jason twists the cap off his beer and looks around.

“Under the sink,” I say, and watch him open the cabinet door and throw his cap away. I hold mine in my hand, running the ridges of the circle around my fingertips. Anything to keep my hands to myself.

“Do you still smoke?” I ask, and shake my head, a little surprised by the question. I love these times when I speak completely without thinking. They usually work out great for me.

“Why? You want a cigarette?”

I could punch him and the smug look on his face. “Do you want to sit down?” I motion toward the kitchen table. Jason shakes his head. His face turns serious and I should run. This was a mistake. I’ll add this to the list of horrible mistakes Jason and Annie have made. Two complete assholes.

We stand facing each other in silence for what seems like six hours. I want to look away, let my eyes escape him, but they’re as much a hostage as the rest of me.

“How about a tour?” Jason asks, pissing me off.

“How about no?”

“What’s wrong, Annie? Can’t you show an old friend around your new house? Seems completely normal.”

“Things are always so normal with us. I used to be bored to tears when we were together,” I say, and Jason crosses the kitchen to stand in front of me, his gray eyes dancing just above mine. His lips part and I swallow hard as a chill runs from the tops of my shoulders down to both nipples. I lower my eyes to the buttons on his shirt and rest my hands on the counter behind me to keep from moving them to his chest. The chill dances across my thighs and down the sides of my calves.
This is not normal.

Jason leans into me and I stop. I stop breathing as he covers me. I close my eyes and he whispers in my ear, “Look at me, Annie.”

 I try to breathe.
Why? What good is it going to do now?

I open my eyes and defiantly look at Jason. Nothing’s going to change. Not for the better. I’ll look at him all day if he wants. I’m sure I deserve the torture of it for something I’ve done, or will do.

I hear the truck pull into the side yard and Jason and I turn to the window over the kitchen sink. Noble’s coming home.

“I should go,” he says, and steps back, allowing me to breathe.

“No. Stay. I want him to know you were here.”

“Why?” Jason’s confused by my motives.

“Because I don’t want to lie to him and I don’t want to figure out how to tell him you were in here.”

Jason walks to the door as Noble hops out of the truck. “You’ll figure it out,” he says, and steps through the back door.

Noble watches Jason walk back to Butch’s. I consider throwing Jason’s beer bottle in the recyclables can, but that’s lying, too. Noble and I are only going to make it through this if we stick together.

I can’t tell if Noble is pissed or terrified when he enters the kitchen. He seems quelled by the sight of me. He stops, noticing the two beer bottles, and turns to me for answers. But really, what is the question?

“Jason was just here,” I say without any apology.

“I saw him leave.” Noble’s voice houses his own defiance.

“Butch is getting worse.” Noble stays still, not satisfied in the least. “He’s not himself. Not angry. Not fighting.” Noble grabs Jason’s beer bottle and reads nothing on the label. “He’s coughing terrible, too. I wanted a shot, but I thought it was too early, so we each had a beer.”
There, that’s it, the whole truth.

“Why didn’t you text me? I would have come home and had a beer with you.”

“I didn’t know what I wanted until it was in my hand. I’m sorry.” What am I apologizing for? This is why people lie.

Noble turns and walks upstairs. I’m losing him. I follow him into our bedroom. He’s looking in his dresser for something. Searching the top drawer. I stand next to it and look down into the drawer, too.

“What are you looking for?”

“I don’t know,” he says, and bows his head, defeated. I turn Noble toward me and press my body against his. I run my hands through his hair and pull his face to mine. He kisses me, but it’s a guarded, frustrated kiss.

“I’m sorry, Noble,” I whisper onto his neck as I kiss him there, and behind his ear, and on his cheek, and on his lips. Noble takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. This is what we have to work with. He has to work with it.

Noble kisses me violently, reminding me of who I’m married to. He lays me on the bed and admires me with his sad eyes. Noble’s my husband and I love him.
I love him!
I scream the words inside my head. What must be screaming inside his? I reach out my hand and when Noble touches it, I pull him on top of me. He shakes the bed as he lands on me hard.

“Attacking me again?” he asks, my playful Noble intact.

“If I have to,” I say, and roll on top of him. “If you weren’t such a prude—” Noble’s lips silence me as he reminds me once again of the many joys that come with being Mrs. Noble Sinclair.

I roll off Noble and onto my side of the bed.

“Come to the Harvest Dance with me,” Noble says as I lay my head on the pillow beside him. A million reasons not to go to the dance furrow my brow. Noble reaches over me and grabs the frame on my nightstand. It’s a picture of him with the red sky behind him taken at the first dance we went to. The first night we became a couple.

“I’m not sure I’m in the right place to celebrate the harvest, or wish it luck.”

“It’s not about the harvest.” He holds the picture up. “It’s about us. It’s the first night I knew we would be together forever.”

I take the picture and put it back on my nightstand. I roll on top of Noble and kiss him. He is
so
good.

“How can I say no to an invitation like that?”

“You can’t.”

I
couldn’t bring myself to ask if he’s going. As it turns out, it wasn’t necessary; Nadine said he and Stephanie are going with a big group of people. I have no idea what that means, but I’m certain it was Nadine trying to soften the blow. She finishes adding the highlights to my hair as Jocelyn finishes my toes. It’s a proper end to the winter months.

“What are you wearing tomorrow night?” Nadine asks, and I brace myself for her scorn.

“I don’t know yet. I’m heading to the mall from here. Clint’s coming with me.” Nadine raises her eyebrows as she sweeps up the area around me.

“Do you and Clint realize the dance is tomorrow?”

“I’ve heard that, yes. We’re confident we’ll find something. What are you wearing?”

Nadine smiles ruefully. “Think bright lights, big city.” She sweeps her hand through the air in front of her face. “It’s metallic,” she says, and I know it’s going to be over the top and wholly fabulous.

“I love it already.”

I check out of Salon Nadine with her wishes of luck for finding a dress. As I pull into my driveway, my parents’ driveway—Clint’s driveway—I am again reminded of the inevitability of life. It keeps moving whether I’m ready or not. Clint hops in the car and lights a roach as I pull onto I-95.

“You know, Charlotte, I am really beginning to love this tradition. It’s like our day,” he says, totally high.

“It is. I couldn’t do it without you. Did Jocelyn get a dress yet?”

“She did. She seemed a little worried we’re just going today to find something.”

“In a million years I didn’t think we’d go to the dance this year, but Noble really wants to. It’s significant,” I say, and remember Noble’s sweet request.

Clint practically skips from the car to the mall. He’s just the person to keep me from obsessing all day. I could spend the next six hours trying to figure out how I feel about Jason and Stephanie going to the dance. I’ve never seen them together. What if they dance? They are obviously going to dance.
It’s a dance.
Maybe Clint has a Valium I can take tomorrow night. A normal person would be upset, or maybe not care at all. I can’t even figure out how I feel, let alone a normal person.

I rummage through the dresses as Clint eyes the other shoppers. There’s red, green, blue, off-white, and black. Red is out. It’s Jason’s favorite color and he’ll read too much into it. White and off-white are also out; I just got done with the whole wedding thing. I didn’t think I wanted black, but when I pass the mermaid gown on the mannequin, I know it’s the one. It’s simple. A crew neck and cap sleeves top off the long black gown with a slit up to the thigh. The back is the money shot. Rachel Zoe cut out an almost diamond shape. The cap sleeves are joined by a tiny button at the top and the entire back is open. The mermaid hemline pools on the floor. It’s dramatic and unexpected. Most importantly, Noble will love it.

“How’s Butch doing?” Clint asks as we sit at “our” table in the Nordstrom Café.

“He’s holding his own, I guess.”

“It’s kind of crazy out there on the farm these days,” he says, half laughing.

God, I wish it were funny. “Yes it is.” I sigh deeply.

“Is it weird having Leer home?”

“It’s nice for Butch. In fact, he’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him since Jason moved back. He’s probably missed him for years.”

“How’s it for you? And Nick?”

“Noble tolerates him. I try not to think about him. He’s where he belongs, with his dad, who just happens to live within a hundred yards of me. It’s only temporary,” I say, and the thought of Butch dying, of Jason leaving, spoils my mood.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just thinking about Butch,” I lie. “It’s not fair.”

“Very few things are in life,” Clint says, ending the conversation. I’m thankful for the silence as our food’s delivered. Thankful until I become lost in the thoughts that torture me.

I visit Butch early, hoping to avoid Jason. I’ll see enough of him tonight; no need to start the morning off with a dose of the cowboy. Butch is lying in his recliner. He’s covered with a blanket and I realize the house has a chill. It’s warming outside, but the night air is still cool. Winter still has custody of spring.

Butch lurches forward as a cough erupts in his chest. It goes on too long, warning he’ll never truly kick it. I pour him a glass of water from the pitcher in the refrigerator and grab another cough drop on my way into the family room.

“Here,” I say, and Butch sits up to take the glass from me. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Some,” he says.

Does he even attempt to sleep in his bed these days? I grab his finger and squeeze it. Butch coughs again, making me think I should call the doctor for something to suppress it.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and I think he’s talking about more than the cough drop.

“You’re not going anywhere yet, old man,” I say. Marie comes through the kitchen door. I’m thankful she loves Butch, too.

“Well, I’m going to get out of here. I have a dance to get ready for.”

“Harvest Dance?” Marie asks, and I nod. But the sight of Butch under his blanket makes the idea of a dance seem absurd.

“Enjoy it. Life is meant to be enjoyed,” Butch says, and I raise both eyebrows at him.

“Well said, old friend.” I wave as I walk out the back door and cross the yard to my house.

The emptiness of the house, the quiet peace, makes me realize how drained I am. Just a few minutes with Butch sucks the energy from me. His kindness is more taxing than his gruffness. I lie down on the couch and cover myself with Noble’s coat that’s lying on the back of it. It’s warm, just like Noble. I drift off to sleep and don’t dream at all.

I wake up to Noble’s lips on mine. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch, smiling down at me as I focus on him.

“Why are you so tired, beautiful?” he asks.

“It might have something to do with you keeping me up until all hours of the night,” I say, and kiss him again.

“I warned you I’ll never get enough. Would you like to shower with me?”

“I would love to.” Noble lifts me over his shoulder and carries me up the stairs to the bathroom. He places me on my feet and I watch him turn on the water and pull the curtain to the wall. He turns to me without a care in the world.

“The water’s heating up,” he says, and his eyes heat me up.

“I can’t wait to see you in your suit.”

“Funny because I can’t wait to see you in nothing.” Noble pulls my shirt over my head. He tosses it over his shoulder and grabs me, pulling me toward him. He buries his lips in my neck, tickling me there.

He leans over and takes my breast in his hand, my nipple in his mouth, and I stop breathing. I watch as Noble swirls my nipple with his tongue and then stands before me with hunger in his eyes.

“Get in the shower,” he directs, and I happily oblige. There’s no place I’d rather be.

I’m finishing my makeup when Noble comes in elegantly dressed. His charcoal suit stretches perfectly from one corner of his body to the next. Even without the suit, it’s his untrimmed hair, his deep blue eyes, and his constant smile that make him insanely hot. His tie is a deep gray with white stripes and I realize why as he hands me a large white lily on a wristlet.

“It’s beautiful.”

I watch in the mirror as Noble adjusts his tie behind me and checks his watch. “When do I get to see you in your dress?”

“I showed it to you yesterday,” I say.

“I want to see you
in
it. Big difference.” Noble kisses my cheek and turns and walks out of our bedroom.

I pull the dress over my head. It fits beautifully. I turn to see my back in the mirror, fully exposed. I’m not used to being completely bare, but I know it’s the most dramatic part and worth any chill I catch tonight. I put in my grandmother’s turquoise chandelier earrings and grab an evening bag out of the basket in my closet. It’s a silver sequined clutch I haven’t used in as long as I can remember. I unzip it and a Polaroid of me, Violet, Jenn, and Sydney completely naked and covered in body paint rests along the side of the purse. I lift it out slightly and frown. The only evidence of the night Violet chose to throw perfect away.
Why do we create it only to destroy it?

The squawking of birds calls me to the window and I watch as thousands of black birds fly through the sky. They’re moving from one field to the next, floating atop an invisible ocean as they search for something to eat. They confound me. The way they perch in the trees and look like leaves. How they swoop down around my car as I’m driving the empty roads.

I look up into Noble’s admiring eyes staring down at me. He turns to the window to see what’s captured my attention.

“The black birds,” I say. “They amaze me how they fly like that.” As if on cue, the birds swoop up and balloon to the sky and gracefully fall back to a new section of the field.

“Predator confusion,” Noble says. I can’t take my eyes off the birds. I love Noble and his insane breadth of knowledge. Noble wraps his arm around my shoulders and leans against my back, studying the birds as well. “The odds are better they won’t be killed in a large group. Plus, the way they fly causes predator confusion, like an optical illusion.”

“There’s safety in numbers,” I say, and commit it to heart as I embark on a night that will surely include Jason Leer.

Noble pulls me away from the window and twirls me around as he whistles at the sight of me finally finished.

“You know, I’m not going to be able to wear dresses like this once you knock me up.”

“I’m thinking about knocking you up right now.” He holds my arms out to the side and turns me around, landing me with my back to him. Noble kisses my lower back and the heat rises up me and settles in my cheeks. He runs his hand over my backside and faces me. “You’re beautiful, Charlotte.”

“You’re biased. I’m your old lady.” He runs the back of his fingers up the side of my face and with his thumb traces the scar on my cheek. I pull his hand down and kiss it, hoping he’ll forget about the scar, about Jason.

“Thanks, Noble.”

“You’re welcome.” He kisses me. “But for what?”

“For asking me to the dance,” I say, and kiss him again.

Noble hands the keys to the valet and takes my hand as we walk in the front door of the Reed estate. I used the drive over to consider every possible circumstance of talking to or seeing Jason and Stephanie. I covered dancing, food, across the room, nearby, and pretty much every other scenario or social situation I could come up with—that is, everything but walking through the front door and right into him.

I literally walk into him and almost fall backward because of course that ox doesn’t budge at all.

He turns around and catches me before I knock Noble over. Jason pulls me toward him, away from Noble, and holds my elbow as I steady myself on my heels. His smug face manages to send a chill over my skin at the same time anger burns inside me. He always did have a way of igniting every emotion in me at the same time. I pull my arm back and know I should say hello, but I’m not sure what that sounds like.

“Hello, Jason,” Noble says, and reaches over my shoulders to take my coat off for me. I switch my purse from one hand to the next and slip my arms out of each sleeve. Noble steps to the side and hands it to the coat check as I face Jason’s gray eyes traveling from the bottom of my dress to the tops of my shoulders and settling on my glare. Again he smirks, knowing I will kill him if he ruins tonight. He should go back to Oklahoma. His departure will coincide with Butch’s, though, and I can’t hope for that.

“Jason!” Stephanie yells over the crowd. She never makes eye contact, but I’m certain she knows I’m right here. “I need you,” she shouts, and I have to consciously keep my top lip from curling. I will not give her the satisfaction.

“You better get back,” Noble says to Jason, practically gloating. I stand between the two of them as Jason just glares back at Noble. I look from one to the other, and, thank you God, Jason turns and walks away. He touches his open hand to my bare back and whispers, “Nice dress,” into my ear on his way by. My back arches at his touch. When he’s fifteen feet in front of me, the air releases from my lungs.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Noble says.

“Any excuse to get you in a suit is a great idea,” I say, and try to pull myself together without detection.

We find Sean and Michelle and take pictures with them and every other person standing around us. This is the first Harvest Dance Sean and I have both attended. Michelle was pregnant with Lily for the first one we went to, and last year Lily was so young Michelle didn’t want to leave her.

“Did Lily love your dress?”

“She did. I told Sean we’re in big trouble with that little diva.”

“She’ll have Sean wrapped around her finger by the time things get really bad.”

“I’m sure,” Michelle agrees as we watch the crowd begin to fill the dance floor. I don’t see Jason anywhere. Stephanie is on the other side of the floor talking with some girls from high school.

“Do you think Lily can come over next week?”

“Name the time. She’d come to your house every day if I let her.” Michelle turns to me. “Anything special planned?”

“I’ve been spending some time with Butch’s grandson and I was thinking he might like to play with someone his own age.”

“Butch’s grandson, as in Jason’s son?” Michelle asks, and to her credit doesn’t sound shocked.

“That’s the one.” I tilt my head to Michelle. “It’s one cozy commune on the Sinclair farm these days.”

Noble comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. With his chin on my shoulder, his lips near my ear, he says, “Dance with me,” and I can’t think of a reason to say no. Well maybe one.

Noble leads me onto the dance floor, holding my hand as we walk through the crowd. He finds a spot in the middle and turns around. Noble pulls me to him and I rest my head on his gorgeous shoulder as the orchestra plays something familiar. Or maybe it’s holding on to Noble at a dance that’s familiar.