She Only Speaks to Butterflies (18 page)

Jenny glanced at her watch. “Jesus. It’s only eleven o’clock.”

Lee shrugged. “Small town.”

As Jenny moved out of the way, she watched Lee scoop Sherry up out of the stall gently, like she was a precious piece of china. Making sure her head rested against his chest, he draped her legs over his arms and gestured Jenny to lead the way. With slight parental-type concern, Jenny ensured Sherry was properly seated and belted in Lee’s car before she headed home herself.

Sherry’s head lay against the cold glass window. She heard Lee say something but she couldn’t answer, fearing to open her mouth, as if there could be anything else left in her stomach to chuck. She simply placed her hand in his, responding to his statement.

“You’re safe with me, Sherry.”

Chapter 14

The sunshine was bright and Sherry squinted, holding her hand out to shade her face. She moaned miserably, feeling her head pound. As she rolled over, she realized the bed sheets and pillow felt different. They smelled different. Looking under the covers, she furrowed her brow, looking at the previous night’s dress pasted onto her sweaty body. Bolting upright, she grabbed her throbbing head and winced. There was a knock at the door as her heart began to pound.

“Sherry? You up?”  It was a male voice but definitely not Kenny’s. Her chest heaved up and down as the adrenaline pumped through her veins.

“Um…um…” Her eyes widened as she panicked, knowing she was not in her own bed.

“Are ya decent?” The male voice asked.

“Um…yes.” She grabbed the covers, pulling them to her chin.  The bedroom door opened a crack and Lee suddenly appeared.

“Mornin’,” he greeted. His faded blue jeans and fresh, white t-shirt made his cleanly-shaven face glow in the morning sun. In his hand was a tray with orange juice, coffee, toast, scrambled eggs and a bottle of Advil.

“I figured ya might be hungry, so I brought ya somethin’ to eat.”

“Shit…did we…um…what happened?” Sherry hesitated, feeling her face flush as she covered it with her hand in shame.

“No, ma’am. I slept on the couch downstairs,” Lee said firmly. “There was a search team out for ya last night, so unfortunately I had to tell yer folks that ya stayed here.”

“Shoot.”

“But don’t worry. Martha took Denise to the pettin’ zoo and yer parents brought ya over some clean clothes and a toothbrush.”

“Do they think…um…do they know…” Sherry searched for the appropriate words, using one hand to try to articulate and the other to keep the sheets at her chin.

“No, ma’am. I told ‘em ya was feelin’ sick is all, and that ya were takin’ my bed. Scout’s Honor.” Lee remained a respectful distance away by the bedroom door. He took a step forward, placing the tray on the bedside table. There was a plastic bag with Sherry’s things in it, which he placed on the floor beside the door.

“I’ll leave ya to eat and clean up if ya like. Shower’s in the ensuite.” He gestured to the closed door on the other side of the room. “Do ya need anything else?”

“No, that’s great. Thanks,” she said, unable to meet his eyes.

“Dammit,” she said to herself, taking a deep breath. Her first thought was of her parents. For God’s sake, they weren’t stupid. They knew she’d drank too much, and what would they think of her now? Spending the night with Lee; a man she barely knew. What was worse, was that the whole town would be thinking and saying the same thing. from one stupid night she’d tarnished her family’s name throughout all of Cog Hill.

Disgusted with herself, she rose out of bed, popping an Advil into her mouth and tipping her head back with a shot of orange juice. The food smelled delicious despite the mild nausea. Taking a bite of toast, Sherry heard the phone on the bedside table ring. It stopped after the first ring and she stood still as there was suddenly a knock at the door. “Um…Sherry?”

“Yes.” She hopped back into bed, pulling the sheets up again.

“Um…it’s for you…it’s Ned Baker.”

Sherry furrowed her brow.
What could Ned want? How does he know I’m here?

Confused, she reached over to the phone. “I’ll get it.”

“Ned? Is somethin’ wrong?” Her voice was clipped as she answered the call.

“Are ya alright, love?” His voice was tense with worry. “I heard you was sick last night.”

Great, does the whole town know already?

“I’m fine, Ned. Are
you
okay?”

Ned sighed. “Oh, thank the Lord. What happened, Sherry? You was fine when we left the lodge.”

She exhaled quickly. “Well, if ya must know, I had a little too much to drink.”

“That’s what I figured, love. But are ya okay? Someone didn’t slip ya anything did they?”

Sherry’s mind reeled. “Whaddya mean Ned?”

“Well, pardon me fer sayin’ so, but there’s just somethin’ about that Lee that I don’t like. I don’t trust him is all.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Are you insinuatin’ that he drugged me?”

“Well, I’ve hearda these things, ya know?”

“Absolutely not. I had a Long Island Iced Tea and a coupla shots. I musta drank ‘em too fast and I didn’t eat anything for supper’s all.”

Ned was silent.

“Are ya sure, dear? ‘Cause I just don’t like the way he looks at Denise. All ‘em divorcees ‘round here ain’t nothin’ but trouble. ‘Specially all ‘em new people comin’ ‘round here.”

“I appreciate that, Ned, but I’m tellin’ ya no, nothin’ like that happened. And fer your information, Denise adores him. Honestly, I ain’t never seen her react to a man the way she does to Lee. Ask my folks if ya don’t believe me.”

He was silent again.

“There’s somethin’ off about him. I think he’s got some kinda past. Somethin’ to do with kids, I can sense it.”

In all the years Sherry had known the Bakers, she’d never known Ned to be irrational. Since Chris’s death, Ned had been a pseudo-grampa to Denise, filling the role whenever Kenny wasn’t in town. No other male had been present in Denise’s or Sherry’s life other than Ned and Kenny in the past two years. It suddenly made sense. Ned was being overprotective because there was a twinge of jealousy there. The old farmer had witnessed Denise’s admiration of Lee and it rubbed him the wrong way seeing as Lee was so new to town. Ned couldn’t be sure about him yet. Sherry couldn’t feel resentment toward the old man, he had such a kind heart and she would never do or say anything to break it.

“Trust me, Ned, he’s an honest man. He brought me to his place to try and save my honor with my folks, left me fully clothed and put me in his bed. He slept on the couch.” She paused. “He brought me up breakfast and a change of clothes and I ain’t seem him since.”

“Oh. Well, alright dear. But let me know if there’s any trouble, will ya?”

“I will, Ned. But everything’s fine.”

“Come by with the youngin’ later, eh?”

“Will do, Ned.”

Sherry hung up, gobbled down the breakfast, realizing that she was starved having skipped dinner. Her clean clothes were brought into the bathroom as she quickly showered, brushed her teeth, dressed, and straightened the bed. Taking the dirty dishes downstairs, she placed them in the sink and poked her head in the living room, looking for Lee. The bedclothes that he used lay neatly folded on the arm of the chair. His suit, shirt and tie were draped over the other arm. Lee was nowhere to be seen.

There was a noise coming from the basement. She followed the noise, which led her to an open door with stairs. As she climbed down the stairs, she saw Lee’s t-shirt soiled and crumpled on the floor in one corner of the empty basement. In the other corner he lay on his back, under the staircase, banging the hell out of something with the heel of his hand.

He noticed Sherry and lifted his head up. “Sorry. I hope I wasn’t too noisy.”

“No, I didn’t know where ya were.” She cleared her throat. “What’re ya doin’ under there?”

She crouched down to his level, trying to ignore the glistening, rippled abdominal muscles and the steely blue eyes staring back at her. “Need a hand?” she offered.

“There’s…somethin’…stuck under here.” He grunted as he continued banging. “There was a box full of junk left under the stairs and behind it is some smaller box that makes noise. I can hear the damn thing when I come down here to do laundry.”

“Are you one of ‘em types that pulls things apart if they don’t sound right?”

Lee stopped banging for a moment and rested his head on the floor, exhaling. “No. Seriously. Can’t ya hear it?” he asked breathlessly.

Sherry listened intently, being careful not to stare and sure enough, she could hear a tinkling, tinny sound. She squatted right down and he scooched over, so she could come in beside him. The proximity was strange, she could feel the whole side of his body against hers. He raised his hand to show her exactly where the sound was coming from. As he did, he was forced to brush past her face and hair, his face was directly in front of hers. Thankfully within the small space it was dark, so she couldn’t tell if he was looking at her or not.

“Can ya hear it?”

“Yes.”

“Here. Let me put yer hand where it’s stuck,” Lee said. “Maybe since yer hand is smaller, you can get it out.”

Sherry allowed him to guide her hand where the sound was, and as he did, he accidentally brushed her breast with his arm. There was a notable tingle that went right to her toes.

“Sorry,” he whispered respectfully. “There. Ya feel that?”

She paled, hoping he was asking about the hard box she felt wedged in between two planks of wood, and not the warm sensation radiating through her body from his touch.

“Yep. Gimme a sec,” she said as he pulled his arm out and once again, brushed her breast, seemingly unavoidable since they were in such close quarters. He grunted another apology.

She pushed with her index finger, sliding her hand in behind the box, coming in contact with a cold, metal thing on the side of the box, which felt like a key. Pulling on the metal key, she used it as leverage to get the box out. As she pulled, the same noise came from the box but it was faster. When the contraption was freed, the noise had evened out, becoming discernable music.

“It’s a music box,” she smiled, looking at it in the darkness. “One of those old-fashioned wind-up kinds.”

Sitting up, they both studied it. It was a small, palm-size, pink trinket box with a ballerina inverted inside. When you cranked the key, the music started and the ballerina sprang to life.

“I’ll be damned.” Lee was in awe.  He hugged his knees.  His bicep and forearm muscle gleamed under the scant fluorescent lighting.

“You must have really great hearing,” Sherry commented. “This looks antique. Jinny Marx must have left it here.”

“D’ya think Mandy would want it back?”

“I can get Reverend Telly to contact her and ask.”

“If not…I’d like Denise to have it,” Lee suggested, and then he checked himself. “I…if that’s alright with you.”

“She’d love it,” Sherry said, looking hesitantly at Lee to her right. On his left shoulder, Sherry observed a small tattoo of a young girl about two years old. The detail was as beautiful as the butterfly tattoo on his back. Only this little girl looked like an angel, a cherub, and the name ‘Leeanne’ was tattooed underneath. The image was exquisite, unlike anything Sherry had ever seen.

Sherry studied it for a moment, touching him gently. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“That’s my daughter,” he explained, avoiding eye contact.

The music slowly stopped as they both examined the artwork on his upper arm. Sherry paused. “Does she live with yer ex-wife?”

Lee swallowed. “No,” he whispered and swallowed again. Sherry was silenced as his face softened and he licked his lips hesitantly, like he had something to say but couldn’t get it out. His eyes glistened as he averted her glance and swallowed again. He bowed his head as though ashamed, and brushed his forehead against his forearm, as if buying time.

“Sh…She’s gone.” He answered softly. Lee blinked rapidly and to Sherry’s surprise, a tear fell down his cheek.

Tears pricked the backs of Sherry’s eyes at his show of raw emotion. She had never seen a man cry before. He sniffed, wiping the tear away with his thumb. “She got hit by a car ridin’ her bike. Wan’t quite seven years old.” His voice cracked.

Another tear escaped down his face and Sherry caught it with her thumb. “I’m so sorry.”

“My wife and I…we just never got over it. It tore us apart,” he explained, looking at Sherry. His lip quivered.

“We divorced a year later,” he added.

Lee looked up at the ceiling and swallowed as a stream of tears fell down his cheeks. Sherry gasped, putting the music box down, wrapping her arms around him. He hesitated at first, but then he crossed his legs and slowly coiled his arms around Sherry’s middle. They both sat there on the floor, sobbing and holding each other, like they’d suffered a thousand times together.

Sherry rubbed his back soothingly as he put his hand in her hair, grasping her as though he hadn’t been held for so long, like he never wanted to let her go. She could hear his gulping and sniffling in her ear, and it triggered more emotion from her. He then placed both hands on her back and squeezed so tight it nearly cut off her breath. It felt nice to be needed in a non-motherly way.