Save Me (6 page)

N
oble opens the back door just as I pull the blueberry bread out of the oven. I laugh at him, unable to contain myself, and he stops walking and gapes at me indignantly.

“What? Something funny?” he asks. He’s covered in camouflage. His knit hat is camouflage, his jacket and overalls are camouflage, and his face is painted with black and green camouflage paint. How could I not laugh at him?

“No.” I shake my head and turn on the coffeepot. It’s only 8:30 a.m. and he already looks like this. “Please tell me you were hunting, though, and this isn’t your new style.”

“I was not only out hunting, but I was also successful. I got a doe,” he says, and kisses me with his ridiculous face paint all over him.

“Poor doe. I’m sure she was no match for you.” Noble watches me quietly, lost in his own thoughts. I’ve never seen a second of remorse from him when it comes to hunting. “Are you feeling guilty about your murder?”

He shakes his head and ends his solemn moment. “I was sitting in my stand—well, really I was thinking about getting down and coming in—when a buck walked right by me.”

“Did you shoot him?”

“No. The season has a bag limit of one antlered deer and unlimited antlerless.” I can’t hide my confusion. “Bag limits” are new for me. “The first deer must be antlerless.”

“Oh.”
Oh sure, kill off the women first.

“I was just watching this buck. I took my camera off the end of my bow and started filming him. Next thing I knew, a doe walked right up to him.”

I pour Noble a cup of coffee and hand it to him, still listening. “And…?”

“And I shot her with the first arrow. She fell over twitching.”

“She’s not in the house, is she?” I really am scarred by the deer head in the refrigerator.

“No. She’s in the back of the truck right now.” Noble pauses as if that’s not the end of the story.

“What?”

Noble shakes his head, thinking. “The buck came back around and just stood over her, watching her die.” A chill runs down my back. “He knew exactly where I was and he just stood there for twenty minutes.”

“Why didn’t you shoot him?”

“He was a six-pointer. I want something bigger and I can only bag one antlered.”

“Right.”

“He wouldn’t go away, though.” Noble’s perplexed.

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss my clueless hunter. “He wanted you to take him, too.” Noble kisses me again, but the look of confusion on his face does not dissipate. “He didn’t want to live without her,” I say, and remember a time when I wanted to die. I was hanging on a railing in Kansas, watching Jason being rolled onto a stretcher.

“You’re quite the romantic, Charlotte,” Noble says.

“It makes sense, doesn’t it? Next time you see him, put him out of his misery.” I cut the blueberry bread.
We were very lucky in Kansas.

“You should come to church with me every week. I think you’d like it,” I tell Noble as I find my black heels in the bottom of my closet.

“I think I’d like spending every Sunday morning with you. Some weeks it’s not possible, though. Do you still sit in the same place? I like to sit in the back.” Naughty. Always so naughty.

“Why am I not surprised? I actually sit with Butch now, and Marie if she comes, which is often. It’s nice.”

“Why don’t you ever go to the contemporary service?”

“I don’t know,” I say, but I do know. This one feels like church. It reminds me of my mother. “Oh, and it’s Communion today.”

“Good, I’m hungry.”

I shake my head.

We are a little late. Apparently even church is not a significant enough commitment to keep my husband’s hands off me. Pastor Johnson is going through the announcements and he nods, smiling at me and the sight of Noble by my side. We enter Butch’s pew from the outside. Marie is on the aisle, then Butch, me, and Noble—one big, happy family. Noble puts his arm around me and my wedding ring catches my eye. I still cannot believe we’re married. Noble is my husband.

I lean my head on Noble’s shoulder and get lost in Pastor Johnson’s words. We stand as the congregation prays for the forgiveness of our sins and we silently confess.

Dear Lord, please forgive me for loving Jason as I married Noble. Not to make excuses, but it wasn’t as bad as it seems. Jason and I are never going to be together again, and I love
Noble tremendously. I took my vows after walking out of a room that held my first love. I promised to love Noble, forsaking all others. I’m okay with it, but I suspect you’d like it to be a much cleaner severance prior to the marriage ceremony.

I am rambling in my head. Trying to talk myself out of the emotions I know are wrong. Pastor Johnson absolves us.

“I needed more time,” Noble whispers in my ear, making me forget about my sins and reminding me I’ve married my playmate. The congregation sings and I glance up at my naughty Noble. His is wearing the look that usually makes me tear his clothes off him. Maybe it’s not a good idea for him to come with me every week.

Pastor Johnson’s sermon focuses on the power of prayer. It’s the most important thing we can do as a congregation. I haven’t prayed since my wedding day. According to the pastor, I should be doing it every day, alone and with Noble. I look up at him again and he’s watching me. I lay my head back on his shoulder. It’s a very lucky head.

The service ends and I am finally able to laugh out loud at Noble.

“You are Presbyterian, right? This is your church? You seemed like you had no idea what was going on.”

“I don’t remember all this. After Sunday school I stopped coming except for Christmas Eve.”

“Perhaps if you weren’t so naughty all the time you could fit your confessions into one time period.”

“I blame you,” he says, and I turn to him, wounded. “You bring out the best and the worst in me, Charlotte. Without you I’m actually a very boring guy.”

I roll my eyes. Noble has never been boring a day in his life.

We file out of the church. Marie walks next to Butch, ready to lend a hand if he stumbles. She’s good to him. I turn from her to Noble and realize he is walking in the exact position next to me.

Pastor Johnson gives me a generous hug and shakes Noble’s hand vigorously. We are the youth contingency in the 10:30 service. The earlier generations seem pleased with our company. I say hello to Mrs. Battaglia. I think she’s related to Jenn, but I can’t remember how. She pulls my head down to her lips and whispers in my ear, “Your new husband is very handsome.” She releases my neck and winks at me, all of which makes me blush. My eye catches Noble’s and I see he’s confused.

“I know. He’s perfect,” I say, and the words float off my lips as the content of the conversation registers with Noble. He winks at me and gives Mrs. Battaglia his noblest “good morning.” She is enchanted and I can’t blame her.

“Will we see you both next week?” she asks.

“I hope so,” I say, and walk to Noble, who takes my hand as we exit the front door of the church. I rest my other hand on the inside of his elbow and my head on his shoulder. Noble kisses the top of my head and I know God is smiling down upon us. Surely my mother is by his side, poking him, saying, “See? See? I told you he is perfect for her. He’s wonderful and safe.”

N
oble takes me to brunch at Washington Street Ale House in Wilmington before hitting the furniture stores on Route 202. We’re lucky both of our houses are furnished. We can take our time updating each room with things we choose together.

“What kind of bed do you want?” I ask, flipping through the pages of some catalogs I brought with me.

“One with you naked in it,” he says, and switches lanes.

“I think they all come with that.” I thread my fingers in his hair. Noble leans over, instinctively knowing what piece of him I want, and I kiss his cheek. He stops at a red light and turns his head toward me. He reaches over and grabs my chin, pulling me to him again. His lips part mine and I think we should have just stayed home, in the bed we already have. A horn beeps behind us and Noble waves as he accelerates through the green light.

“Do you want a king-size mattress?”

“Is that the biggest? Because I want the smallest. What is that, a twin? I want you to actually lie on top of me every night.”

“You say that now, but after a month of waking up with dead arm you’ll likely want more room.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Noble says as he pulls into the furniture store’s parking lot. He parks and hops out of the car without a care in the world. I wait in the passenger seat, already accustomed to the fact that he always opens the door for me. Noble opens my door and leans into the car. “I cannot, and will not, ever get enough of you, Mrs. Sinclair,” he says, and kisses me. I rest my forearms on his shoulders and forget where we are and why we’re here. In this moment, I’m here to be with Noble.

“It doesn’t matter how big a bed you get—I am going to be touching you every night of your life. You can’t avoid me,” he says, and steps back for me to get out of the car.

“I’m counting on it,” I say, and slip my hand into his.

We meander through the bed section and tell several salespeople we’re just looking. There are different colored iron beds to choose from, a few wooden platform beds, and some ornate carved headboards. I immediately rule out the upholstered ones, unable to reconcile Noble’s naked body near an upholstered bed. Something about the hunter and the metro style not meshing.

Noble dives onto an iron bed with large curves of iron intersecting with floral knobs. The bed shakes from the weight of his landing. He lies flat on his back and then rolls over, resting his head on his hand.

“Are you coming in?” he asks, and I just stand next to the bed laughing at him.

“No.” I glance around to see if anyone is watching us.

“Come on. How are we going to know if this is the right bed for us if you don’t get in it with me?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I say. He bounces up and down on the bed and I blush.

“You should climb on top of me.” His eyes tell a story of sex in his truck, or on the beach, or in this bed and I’m about to climb out of my skin.

“You’re insane.”

“This is a big purchase. We could have this bed for twenty years. We need to make sure it can handle us.”

“Noble Sinclair, you are no gentleman. All these years of holding the door for me…”

He holds out his hand for me. I take it and sit on the bed next to him.

“How are we going to know if it bangs the wall unless you ride me?” He pulls me toward him and I kiss him, forgetting I am in the middle of a furniture store in Delaware.

“Ahem.” I look up to the scornful eyes of a saleswoman.

“We’ll take this one,” Noble says, never taking his eyes off me.

“In a queen,” I add, and peck Noble on the lips. We should not be allowed in public.

Our new bed is delivered three weeks later, as promised. The deliverymen, and everyone else in town, can only talk about one thing—the early snowstorm that is bearing down on the East Coast. They recite the latest weather reports as they carefully climb the staircase. The early predictions were all correct. As much as I’d hoped the direction of the storm would change, this time we won’t be lucky. The storm is going to wipe out the corn crops of Salem County and all those in the surrounding counties of South Jersey. Noble has custom work scheduled for the next three weeks, harvesting smaller farmers’ crops for them and his own, of course, but the storm has wreaked havoc on his schedule and left him at the mercy of the hours in the day.

He and his crew are working from the minute they wake up until the middle of the night. He’s come home the last three nights after midnight and crawled into bed. Today is Sunday and it will be more of the same.

“How much more do you have to do?” I am missing him. This house is lonely without him. I’ve been working late as well, trying to keep myself busy, but BJ and I want him home.

“Everyone’s pooling our resources now. No farmer wants another to fail. We’ll harvest as many acres as we can before the storm hits.”

“Don’t they have insurance for the crop?”

“They do, but it’s not the same as an actual crop. It might cover their debt, but it’s months of work for zero profit if we don’t get it out of the ground. The storm, the rain and the wind they’re calling for, will bend the stalks and lay them on the ground. The longer they lie there wet, the less likely we are to salvage them. Our best bet is to combine before it hits.”

I nod as if I understand everything he’s talking about. He’s hunched over from exhaustion. He looks ten years older.

“I miss you, Noble Sinclair.” I wrap my arms around his waist. I lay my head on his chest and hide my selfish face from him.

“I’m sorry I keep leaving you here all alone.” His voice is quiet, weighed by exhaustion. He strokes my hair and I lean into him, not caring how tired he is. I need him. “I’m also very sorry you’re missing homecoming. If it weren’t for the storm, I’d have taken you up there.”

“I don’t mind.” I close my eyes and inhale my husband. “We can go next year. I’ll miss seeing Julia and Sydney.” I pause, considering all the people I only see once a year now. “And a few others, but Violet wasn’t going anyway. I guess homecoming’s not as fun with a baby on board.” I sigh. There’s only one person I need. “I just miss you.”

“I feel the same way, Mrs. Sinclair.” Noble lifts my face to his and kisses me, reminding me of why I miss him, and the guilt melts away. “We’ll make up for lost time during the storm.”

He kisses me again and I consider not letting him out of the house.

“I want to talk to you about something when we have some time.”

“What?” What could he possibly have to talk to me about?

“Something good. Later, though. I’ve got to get into some clothes to combine in.”

I go to church alone. Noble came with me again last week, and again it was a cross between a prayerful sermon and my playful husband entertaining me. What does Noble confess? Does he pray for a way out of this marriage? I bow my head and stare at the pages of the Bible. I know that’s not true. Noble is always so sure of us, of me. He makes me believe this is where I belong, even when I have no idea sometimes.

I sit with Butch and Marie and marvel at how far we’ve come. Two years ago, I could barely look at Butch and now he’s absolutely a part of my family. He witnessed my marriage to Noble and he was there as my loved one, not as Jason’s father. It’s more evidence that life is indeed crazy, the passage of time cosmic.

Pastor Johnson concludes the service and I hurry out the front door ahead of the crowd. I’m not in the mood to socialize. Let Butch and Marie answer all the lingering questions about the wedding. Noble’s mom will be in town in a few months; she can fill in the rest of the details. For now I want to be home, even if Noble’s not there with me.

I park the Volvo in the L-shed and walk to the house. A weighty, almost balmy breeze brushes the hair from my shoulders and then whips it up and around my face. I tilt my face to the sky and the October sun covers me in warmth. The haphazard clouds decorate the bright blue, making it impossible to believe a debilitating storm is on its way. Nothing seems organized, only glorious.

I swing open the door to the kitchen and lean down to hug BJ hello. It’s always the same enamored greeting, whether I’ve left for the weekend or an hour. The last few boxes from my parents’ house are stacked in the dining room. There wasn’t much to move: boxes in the attic from high school, a few from college, some decorations and other personal belongings. The furniture I left for Clint to use. My clothes filled my car in one trip. It’s hard to accept I’m never going back.

I change my clothes and begin unpacking the last few boxes. BJ lies at my feet, snoring. He is the most content living being on this planet. I abandon the boxes for the window. The fields, the lawn, the trees, everything will be different tomorrow. There’s no stopping a storm; you can only hope to survive it.

The sun dips to the west, but the temperature’s still warm. BJ and I walk barefoot over the lawn and settle into the hammock on the side yard. I lie down and look out over the fields. They’re completely empty. The grain has been harvested; the equipment’s moved on. It’s just BJ and me waiting for Noble to come home from someone else’s field. I close my eyes and breathe in the warm air, thankful for one last summery day.

“We’re going to tell him,” Noble says as we pass Frederick, Maryland, and head toward West Virginia.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“To Oklahoma. We have to tell Jason we’re married.”

“I already told him,” I say, and stare out the truck window. The road is familiar. How many times did Jason and I drive it?

“When?” Noble interrupts my thoughts, but I don’t bother to look at him.

“He was at the wedding,” I say, but Noble ignores me.

“I want to be there when you tell him.”

“Why? This is cruel.” He’s been through enough. A chill runs through me.

“Annie, I want you to tell him you’ve always been in love with me and you’ll never leave me,” he says.

“Annie?” I turn away from the window. Jason is now driving Noble’s truck and we’re still headed toward Oklahoma.

I shiver as my eyes open to the darkening sky. It takes less than a minute to realize he’s not here. Neither of them is here. Anger wells up inside of me and I clench my teeth. The wind whips around me, commemorating his presence, and I move my arms to cover myself. A piece of paper under my hand falls off the hammock and I grab it. I open it, already knowing what it says.

I sit up and look for him, but there’s no sign of life. My phone falls to the ground. I pick it up and climb out of the hammock. BJ runs around the house, following the wind’s trajectory. There are no lights on at Butch’s, no truck parked nearby. Jason was here, though. I fold the paper and slip it into my back pocket and call BJ in for dinner. As I fill his bowl with food, I realize my hands are shaking. I have to settle down. Noble will be home soon.

Noble arrives at 8:30 and promises to come down and eat after a shower. When there’s no sign of him by ten, I go upstairs and find him asleep in our bed, the covers at his feet as if he didn’t have the strength to move them.

“Here you are trying to help the whole town, and what is the other one doing?” I say to my sleeping beauty. “He’s causing trouble. As usual.” I pull the covers up to Noble’s neck and climb in next to him. I curl up against him and pull his arm around me. Even if he’s not awake, I want him to hold me. I need him to.