Written in the Scars (20 page)

I catch her looking at me as I bring the bottle to my lips. She rolls her eyes, knowing what I’m thinking, and I laugh, nearly choking on the brew.

“Move,” she huffs, bumping me with her hip.

I step out of the way and watch her rummage through the fridge. “So, what’s for dinner?”

“I have taco meat in here from a couple of days ago,” she says, pulling out a plastic tub.

“It’s not even Tuesday.”

She glares at me. “You are more than welcome to leave.”

I smile back. “Tacos are great any day of the week. Can I help?”

“Ugh,” she groans, marching by me. She goes about heating the meat in a skillet and getting out the toppings and shells.

I just watch her work. She seems angry, but it’s a front. The tremor in her hand as she cuts the lettuce is her giveaway. She’s trying to stay mad, but why?

“How’s your class?” I ask, sitting at the table.

“Good.”

“Dustin said you got him out of some trouble last week.”

“He was just going to take it,” she says, looking at me over her shoulder. “He didn’t do it and they weren’t going to look into it because they’d already tried and convicted him in their minds. But I marched him back in the office and had a sit down with the Principal, the tapes were reviewed, and his name was cleared.”

“One of the many reasons I love you.”

Her hand stills mid-chop.

“You know what we need?” I ask, trying to keep her relaxed. “A puppy.”

“We do not need a puppy, Ty.”

“Think about it. When I’m at work, it would keep you company. You could take it on your walks and—”

She turns around and leans against the counter.

“We aren’t getting—”

“A puppy,” I cut her off. “Let’s run up to Terre Haute this weekend and check the pound.”

“Ty,” she whines, clearly frustrated.

“What, baby? Would you rather have a kitten?”

She tosses the knife on the counter and sighs. “This was a bad idea.”

“Well,” I say, smirking, “if you don’t want a pet and want to go straight for the baby, I’m game to try. Just come over here.”

In a flash, her back is to me. Her shoulders are stiff, her spine ramrod straight.

Without thinking, I get to my feet and cross the kitchen and stand behind her. “What did I say?” I ask, letting my hand rest on her shoulder. She nearly jumps at the contact.

“Nothing.”

“Oh, I said something, but I don’t know what.”

She blows out a breath and shakes my hand off her shoulder. Busying herself with dinner, she leaves me standing while she takes everything to the table.

Our eyes never meet, our bodies never touch. There’s an awkwardness that’s wedged itself between us that I can’t budge. Only when she’s sitting at the table does she look at me, still standing where she left me at the stove.

“You coming?” she asks.

I sit across from her and watch her make her plate. “Elin, whatever I said, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. That much is clear. But I don’t know why.

I make a taco and take a bite, relishing in the taste of home-cooked food. “I heard from Murphy,” I tell her, breaking the silence. “He said the word is the mine will be opening back up soon.”

“You aren’t seriously considering going back to work there.” Her eyes are wide, the fork in her hand falling slowly to the table.

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“Apply at the power plant, the electric company. Go back to school and teach,” she says hurriedly.

“I’ve applied to all of those places. The plant has two slots open and ninety-four candidates. I have to be realistic.”

Reaching across the table, I place my hand on top of hers. She stares at them, her chest rising and falling.

“You can’t go back there,” she chokes out.

Her words spear my heart. She cares. I knew she did, but to hear it encourages me. Somewhere through her anger, despite her filing for divorce, she still wants me. And maybe, just maybe, it’s not buried as deep as I feared.

“Baby, listen to me. There’s no other option to make that kind of money.”

“Life’s not about money.”

“No, but there are bills to pay.” I swallow hard. “And we have a lot less money because of me. I have to be able to give you a decent life, and the best way for me to do that right now is the mine. If something else opens, fuck yeah, I’ll take it. But we have to be real, E.”

I watch her beautiful face crease with worry, and while I secretly love it, I don’t want to waste our night talking about work.

“They’ve not officially reopened anyway,” I point out, “so this is a discussion for another day. Let’s talk about the puppy.”

She smiles. “No puppies.”

“Kittens?”

“Their pee stinks.”

“All right,” I sigh, shoving away from the table. “Babies it is.”

Standing abruptly, she swipes her plate from the table and dumps it in the trash. “I need to grade those papers.”

“Want me to help?”

She spins on her heels and gives me a look.

“No, really,” I say. “Do you want my help? I have nothing better to do and I can put them in stacks or something?”

A faint smile tickles her lips, but she fights it back.

Pushing to my feet, I start her way. Much to my surprise, she doesn’t back away or stop me. Not to press my luck, I stop inches from her.

I don’t want to leave. I want to pick her up and carry her into our bedroom and show her how much I love her. Brushing a lock of hair out of her face, I touch her for a moment longer than necessary because I need it. I think she does too—maybe more than me.

“You really want me to leave?”

Her nod is almost nonexistent.

I swallow back all the words I really want to say. “I’ll go. But I don’t want to.”

“I need you to,” she whispers, holding on to my wrist.

Her words and actions are at odds and it rips me apart.

“Why?” I ask. “Elin, something’s going on with you and I want to know what it is.”

“You know what it is,” she says, but it’s not what she means. I can see the other reason, something darker, right behind her green eyes.

“Yet you’re asking me to leave you again.”

Her gaze hits the floor. I lift her chin so she’s looking at me.

“Tell me what’s wrong. What are you hiding in there?”

She drags in a long, deep breath that shakes her chest. Her eyes grow wide, her hand clamping on my wrist. “I . . .”

My phone rings in my pocket, and the sound shakes her out of the moment.

“You should get that,” she says, clearing her throat. She releases my wrist and steps away from my touch.

Growling, I pull the offender from my pocket and see Jiggs’ name. “It’s your brother.”

“Go,” she says, grabbing her bag off the floor beside the table. Her voice is clear now, the moment of truth far behind us. “I need to get to this anyway.”

“You sure you don’t wanna talk?”

With the bag on her shoulder, she turns on her heel. A look of resolution is stretched across her face. “I’m sure.”

It’s clear I’m not going to get anywhere now, just dig myself in a deeper hole. I head for the door but stop beside her.

Not giving her a chance to object, I slide her against me and press a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you. This bullshit is gonna stop soon, one way or the other. My patience is running thin. So figure out how you’re gonna deal when I come home for good because it’s happening.”

And then I leave, the door squealing behind me.

ELIN

“Hello?” I squint against the late afternoon sun and toggle the phone against my ear.

“Where have you been?”

“Hang on,” I mumble, getting the phone situated before I pull out onto the highway. “Okay. That’s better. How are you, Linds?”

“Oh, I’m good. Just sitting over here, wondering why my best friend hasn’t answered my calls in two freaking days. Just peachy.”

Rolling my eyes, I smile. “I’m sorry. I just have a lot going on and need some space to think.”

“Space? From me? Sorry, my friend. You don’t get that.”

I laugh, squeezing my car in between two trucks and barreling down the road towards my house.

It’s been a long day full of addition and the letters S and T. Of course, half of the kids in the class that had to bring something that started with a T brought a tie. And every time I said “tie,” I was thinking “Ty,” and my heart hurt a little. Or a lot. Definitely more than was fair.

“Things are just weird,” I tell her. “I have a lot on my mind.”

“Jiggs said that Ty’s been coming around to see you.”

“I’ve seen him a couple of times,” I admit.

She sighs. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I don’t know. One minute I think one thing and the next . . .”

“Did he tell you where he went? Did he explain things?”

“Yeah.”

She pauses and waits for me to continue. I don’t. As much as I love her, Ty’s problems are his to tell. I won’t betray that, not even for her.

“So . . .” she leads.

“So he explained it and I understand.”

“What’s the hold-up then?” she asks.

I flip my turn signal on and make a left onto my road. “I just want to make sure it’s the right thing to do. I love him and I know he loves me. But, really, our problems aren’t resolved. We are just kind of in limbo right this second.”

“So you just don’t want to jump right back into it?”

“Exactly.”

She takes a deep breath. “Did you tell him about the baby?”

My chest squeezes. “No, I haven’t. It’s gonna break his heart and it’s going to be devastating to me to tell him. And, really, I’m not sure if it matters.”

“Of course it fucking matters!” she says. “I will always take your side in an argument publicly, but if you don’t tell him about this, and soon, you are wrong, Elin.”

I fill my lungs with air and blow it out slowly. This is something I’ve been pondering, something I know is true. I need to tell him. I need to let him know the truth. He deserves it. I just can’t bring myself to bring it up.

“Tell me about the baby,” I say, changing the subject. “How do you feel?”

“Gosh, I feel pretty good, actually,” she nearly sings. “I’ve been a little sick, but nothing I can complain about. I go to the doctor again in two weeks and I think we’ll be able to hear the heartbeat!”

I swallow past a lump in my throat. “I’d like to go with you. I mean, if you don’t mind.”

“I’d love that, Elin.”

“I’m pulling into the house,” I say as I hook a right onto the driveway. “But let’s get together this weekend and have lunch. Sound good?”

“Absolutely. And call me if you need anything. Please. Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to do it alone.” She hesitates. “You know what, call me even if you don’t need anything. Call me because I’m a needy friend and you know I’ll bitch if I don’t hear your voice.”

I grab my bag off the passenger’s seat and head to the back door, chuckling. “I love you. I’ll call you soon.”

“Night, chickie.”

Popping the door open, I’m met with a chill. The air isn’t warm like I expect after leaving it set on 74-degrees. I flip on lights, set my bag down, and check the thermostat. It’s on but not running.

“Shit,” I say out loud, looking at the ceiling.

The furnace does this each start to winter. There’s some trick to it that Ty figured out the second year we lived here. A trick I don’t know.

I eye the basement door on the other side of the kitchen. It mocks me with its hidden shadows and bugs and damp crevices. Shivering, I wonder if Jiggs could get it working or if I’m going to have to call my husband.

My lip twitches at the thought of seeing him again, and I try to kick myself for it, but I don’t. Wanting to see him is as natural to me as breathing or sleeping or craving soda.

Slumping against the wall, I can feel my heart thumping against my ribs. A decision is going to have to be made. I’ve known it since he left after taco night.

I’m going to have to either be firm and end this for good or I’m going to have to tell him my truths and try to work this out. The latter is something I don’t think I can survive.

Taking a deep breath, I head through the kitchen and place my hand on the knob to the basement door.