The Heart Knows What the Heart Wants (7 page)

Shane scrubbed his hands over his face.
What the fuck just happened here
? Clearly Star had gotten the wrong impression when she saw him with Kelsey. But why had it upset her so much? In a perverse sort of way, he found himself a little bit pleased. If she ran out of the store because she assumed something was going on between him and Kelsey, then maybe she was a little jealous. And if she was jealous, that must mean that she liked him.

Star drove home as calmly as she could, mentally kicking herself for overreacting. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and she wasn't entirely sure why she had reacted so strongly to seeing Shane with that girl. It had bothered her, and now, she felt like a girl with a crush finding out the object of said crush was interested in someone else. She sighed and pushed the remote button on the visor to raise the garage door.

She picked up the mail for Neona before going inside. As soon as she walked into the kitchen, Neona called out to her from her new temporary bedroom on the main floor. "Star? Is that you?"

"It's me, Neona," she responded, already walking toward the former parlor. Star painted on a smile she didn't feel and handed Neona the mail. "You hungry?"

Neona crinkled her nose. "Not really. These damn pain killers upset my stomach."

"I'm going to fix a sandwich," Star said. "I'll be back, if you want some company."

"That'd be just fine. I have a feeling you've got something on your mind," Neona said.

Star shook her head. "How do you do that?"

Neona chuckled and tapped her index finger against her temple. "Women's intuition."

Star smiled and told her, "I'll be back in a few minutes. Can I bring you anything? Something to drink?"

"I could go for a cup of coffee," Neona said.

"Sure thing," Star said.

Star brewed a fresh pot of coffee and made a cheese sandwich for herself while she waited. She peeked through the cupboards and noticed things were a little bare with Thanksgiving just around the corner. When she made her way back into Neona's room, she handed her the cup of coffee and sat down in the chair beside the pullout sofa bed.

Star offered Neona half of her sandwich, but Neona shook her head. "No, thank you."

After a few minutes of silence, Star brought up the approaching holiday. "Shane mentioned you were planning to have Thanksgiving here?"

"Well, I was, but I don't see that happening now," Neona said softly as she sipped her coffee. "Maneuvering around the kitchen on crutches isn't a real efficient way to get any cooking done."

Star put her plate with half of the sandwich on the end table and tucked her legs beneath her in the chair. "I'd love to do it for you. That is, if you don't mind some stranger finding her way around your kitchen?"

Absentmindedly, Neona reached for the remainder of the sandwich and took a bite.

"You're willing to do that? Dinner for six?"

"I'd love to," Star told her. Star enjoyed cooking. It would be a welcome change to cook for people who might actually appreciate the effort. She was excited with the prospect of putting a large meal together. "Shane offered to bake the pies."

Neona's face lit up, and she said, "That settles it. Shane makes the best pecan pie this side of the Mississippi."

"Let's get a list together, and I'll go grocery shopping in the morning," Star suggested.

"Top drawer of the desk over there." Neona nodded to the massive roll top desk across the room. "Grab me a pad of paper and a pen out of the top drawer. Then hand me the phone."

Star hopped up and retrieved the items for her. They debated on how big the turkey should be, whether to make stuffing from scratch, or the kind from a box, as well as what other side dishes to serve. Neona reread the grocery list and said, "I think that's everything. Let me just call Shane and find out what he needs for the pies."

Star's heart squeezed in her chest when she thought of Shane with that dark haired girl from earlier. She got back up and crossed the room to add another log to the glowing embers of the fireplace while Neona talked with Shane.

Satisfied the fire was going to take off, Star sat back down and waited for Neona to finish the call. Neona added a few more things to the list before she said goodbye to Shane. She handed the list and the phone to Star. "Shane insisted on going with you to Hannibal tomorrow. He said to tell you he'll be here first thing in the morning."

Star felt her pulse speed up, and she thought about protesting, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. She didn't want to draw any more attention to herself over the discomfort she felt being around him.

"Will his girlfriend be joining us for Thanksgiving?" Star asked.

Neona frowned and gave Star a curious look. "Girlfriend? I don't think he has one."

"Oh. I was just wondering," Star said, shifting in her chair. "I saw him talking to some girl before I left work tonight. They seemed to be...friendly."

"What did she look like?" Neona asked.

"Big eyes, long dark hair, whiney voice," she said, hoping she didn't sound too snarky with her description.

Neona rolled her eyes and shook her head slowly back and forth. "That sounds like Kelsey. They're not together anymore. Though I have a feeling Kelsey would like to believe otherwise."

Star hoped she had misread the situation. She felt like a jealous teenager and mentally chastised herself for overreacting and making the assumption. Hopefully, he hadn't noticed her odd behavior. "Pretty girl," Star commented offhandedly.

"Pfft. The girl's a tramp," Neona said.

Star snorted, and quickly covered her mouth, pretending she had something stuck in her throat. She smiled at Neona and told her she was going to take a shower and read for a while.

It was early, and Star felt too antsy to sit still and read, so she walked over to the closet. She scowled as she rifled through her meager wardrobe. She didn't own a lot of nice things, and she'd left a lot of her belongings behind in West Memphis. The last thing she'd been thinking about when she packed was dressing to impress someone.

Most of her wardrobe was comprised of ill-fitting, dark-colored clothes that were about as stylish as a gunny sack.

Derek had given her certain guidelines about what she could -- and could not -- wear outside their house. One time when she was on her way out the door headed for work, he stepped in front of her, blocking the way. "Where the fuck you think you're going?"

She flinched at the angry tone of his voice and wondered what had set him off this time. "I'm going to work," she told him. She tried to stay calm. He liked to intimidate her, and the more fear she showed, the more he toyed with her. He got some sort of sick satisfaction out of playing a game of cat and mouse with her.

"Not looking like some three dollar hooker you're not. Go wash that shit off your face and find something else to wear," he ordered through clenched teeth. His eyes were dark and filled with menace.

Star knew better than to argue with him, so she hurriedly scrubbed off the makeup and changed into something completely unflattering. He glanced up as she walked into the kitchen, and she turned in a circle for his approval. His jaw muscle twitched, and he nodded. "That's better."

When she got home from the bar that night, he'd gotten rid of most of the clothes she'd considered nice or attractive. He informed her that he'd thrown all of her "whore clothes" in the dumpster. That was when she stopped caring about her appearance. It was easier to keep her mouth shut and comply than argue and risk getting backhanded.

She laid out a clean pair of jeans and a cream color sweater. It wasn't much, but it was the best she could come up with for now. She combed her fingers through her wavy locks and decided to see if Ami could fit her in for a haircut sometime before Thanksgiving.

She opened the top dresser drawer and pulled out her cell phone. She turned it on and smiled softly when she noticed a text message from Taylor:
Glad u made it to Iowa. Miss u! xoxo

The message, no matter how simple, put a sentimental lump inside her throat. She swallowed hard and thought about the fun they used to have working together. He was the only part of that life she still thought about -- in a good way, and she missed him.

She tossed the phone on to the bed next to the clothes she planned to wear the next day and pulled on her ratty old nightgown. She crawled into the large bed and propped her Kindle up on the extra pillow beside hers.

***

Shane was anything but tired at the end of his shift. The run-in with Kelsey had left him pissed off and too keyed up to think about sleep. Even though it was cold, he decided to go for a ride on his motorcycle. He ran up to his apartment and grabbed his leather jacket and gloves. He kicked off his Nikes, pulled on his boots, and wrapped a long, bright blue scarf around his neck, tucking the ends inside his coat before zipping it up. Satisfied that he was sufficiently bundled, he went out to where his bike was parked and strapped on his helmet.

He straddled the bike, pressed start, and the small cycle rumbled to life. He slowly let out the clutch and headed into Red Vale. Before he knew it, he found himself parked in his aunt's driveway. He climbed from the bike and trudged up the sidewalk toward the front porch. He dug inside his wallet for the spare key he kept there.

The light was on in the parlor, so Shane stuck his head in to say hello to his aunt. He found her asleep. Chili Dog stirred beneath the blankets and crawled out to greet him. Shane gently nudged Neona awake.

She blinked up at him and rubbed her eyes. "I must've fallen asleep." She yawned.

"Really? I thought you always slept with your chin on your chest," he teased.

"Aren't you the comedian tonight," she said. She reached for the book she'd been reading and pulled it back into her lap. "What are you doing here?"

As he shrugged out of his coat, he told her, "It seemed like a great night for a motorcycle ride."

"For an Eskimo, maybe," she scoffed. She watched him through worried eyes. "You okay?"

Shane gave her a weary smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just figured since I'm going up to Hannibal with Star in the morning, I'd spend the night here. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course I don't mind. You're always welcome to stay, you know that, Shane," she said. "You can sleep upstairs in my room. Right after you take Chili Dog out to potty."

Shane kissed Neona's cheek. "I can do that. See you tomorrow," he told her. He patted his leg and called to the dog, "Come on, Chili Dog, let's go outside." The small dog jumped off the bed, stretched, and darted toward the front door.

Shane had stayed with Neona after the accident while his injuries healed. His leg had slowly gotten better, and most days the limp was barely noticeable. The memory demons that continued to invade his brain from time to time hadn't gone away completely, though they had become less frequent as the months passed. Getting off the chemicals had helped a lot with the nightmares.

Shane knew the room at the end of the hall was the one reserved for long term guests, and he assumed that's where Star was sleeping. He went inside Neona's room at the top of the stairs and didn't bother to turn on the light. The dim glow from the streetlight outside the windows filtered through the curtains, and once his eyes adjusted to the darkened room, he sat down on the bed and tugged off his boots.

Stripped of his clothes, he climbed between the cold sheets and breathed in their soothing lavender scent.

The odor of raw gas was strong, sucking the air from his lungs. He felt woozy, and something was wrong with his leg. He knew he had to get away from the fumes, but every time he tried to move, excruciating pain shot through the entire right side of his body.

With blurry vision, he tried to find something tangible to focus on. He twisted his head toward the empty passenger seat. Hadn't Lila been with him? Where was she? "Lila?" he groaned. He sputtered and gagged: the pain from his leg, along with the gasoline fumes were making him nauseated.

Red and blue lights rotated, reflecting on the wet pavement. The sound of crunching metal had been deafening. Fragments of glass were scattered everywhere. Where the hell was Lila?

"Shane? Can you hear me?" the disembodied voice asked him. "We're going to get you out, son, hang in there."

He blacked out, and when he came to, he was being extricated from the twisted wreckage. He screamed in agony, begging for someone to do something to make the unbearable pain stop. When he caught sight of his shredded, blood soaked jeans and the mangled mess that was his right leg, he wanted to die.

He was nearly incoherent, but not so out of it that he missed the sheet-covered body in the middle of the highway. "Lila..." he cried out. No, God no. There has to be some mistake. "LILA!"

Star bolted upright, her heart was racing ninety miles an hour. She heard the strangled cries coming from down the hall. For a few seconds, she held her breath while she listened. "LILA!" she heard. It sounded like Shane's voice. She flung the covers off her and ran down the hall toward his wails. Without hesitation, she pushed open the bedroom door and ran to him.

He was clearly in the midst of one hell of a vivid nightmare. She crawled beside him on the bed and wrapped her arms around him. The sheets were drenched with sweat, and his entire body trembled as she held him.

"Shh, it's okay, Shane. You're having a bad dream," she cajoled, as she rocked him back and forth. He silently slid his arms around her waist and clung to her. He buried his face in the front of her nightgown and sobbed.

Neither of them spoke. He cried until his ragged breathing eased into the normal, smooth rhythm of slumber. When she was certain he had drifted back to sleep, she gently unwrapped his arms from around her body and wandered back down the hall to her own bed.