Home Tears

Fuck that. She’d get through this, like she got through everything else. Crumpling up the card, she stuffed it back in her purse. She stretched her neck, kneading the sore muscles there, and moved to the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

As she opened it and took a sip, she heard another voice in her head. This one was a dark baritone, and he’d only been trying to help her. “I’m here if you decide to stop running. I’ll always love you. You know that, but I can’t keep following you around.”

Her hand twitched now, spilling water into the sink.

Her eyes caught sight of her bare finger and she held still. She couldn’t look away. That man, that voice—he hadn’t asked for what she did to him. Shame hung her head, but then she put the water away and glanced at the clock. Mae would probably still be awake.

A drive to Mae’s Grill would help clear the nightmare from her mind.

After dressing, she headed out, but coming to the main highway, she let the car sit and idle a second. Just over the ditch, running alongside the highway was the town’s livelihood.

Falls River.

It encompassed their entire state and wound its way through the next two and into Canada. Most of the workers who settled in Craigstown worked at the dam, not far north. It kept their town with food and fuel. And life. Many nights she remembered jumping off a certain bridge, not three miles from Mae’s place.

Tenderfoot Rush was a bridge where everyone, every teen and every adult, had jumped off naked, dressed, or in swim trunks. Everyone did it. It was the favored pastime of the summer. If you couldn’t find anyone in town, and it was over 100 percent humidity, just check Tenderfoot Rush. They were always there. The place was built on memories—from everyone. And so many decided to make the trek to Mae’s Grill, just three miles south. Many tubing trips started at Tenderfoot Rush and pulled out at Mae’s Grill.

There were still a few cars in the parking lot when she got there, and she heard yelling from inside as she opened the door. “Barney, get the hell out of here before I do something I’ll regret. You hear me?!”

“Aw, come on, Mae. I don’t got nowhere to sleep tonight. Can’t drive. You made sure of that when you took my keys.”

“I don’t care. It’s not my problem. If you get annihilated and think I’ll let you drive out of here, just inviting a lawsuit against my bar—you’re a fool. You drink, that means you’re not driving, but you’re still not my problem. Now get out of here!”

“But, Mae.” He was slumped on his stool at the bar when Dani went inside. “I don’t have anyone to call.”

Mae slapped a towel on the counter. “Don’t make me call that future nephew-in-law of mine. He’ll arrest you.”

“But I don’t got no place to sleep, Mae.” He whined again, settling his forehead on the counter again. He snorted. “Yeah, you call your nephew. He’s marrying the side of family that don’t want you around.”

Barney had a death wish.

A second later his words penetrated his skull. His head jerked back up with wide eyes, and his cheeks lost color. “Oh, gosh—I didn’t mean… Mae, that didn’t come out right. I’m sorry—”

“You. Get. Out. Now.” Her hands wrapped around the towel and she was wringing it, envisioning it was his neck.

“I’s going, Mae. I didn’t mean nothing by what I’s just said. I mean it, Mae. I speak without a brain. I’m sorry, Mae.” He made a scramble for the door. He turned back and opened his mouth, but nothing came out when he saw Dani standing just inside the door.

Mae heard his pause and turned, too.

“She sure is purrty, Mae.”

Mae threw a bottle at him, which he ducked. It shattered against the wall, and Barney was out the door in a flash.

Mae’s chest was heaving. Her nostrils flared. “Every damn night it’s the same thing over and over. I’m getting tired of it. He needs help.” She began wiping the counter, her hand moving in quick, savage circles.

Dani remained in one spot. She was still so damned tired, but she was thankful her aunt wasn’t paying her much attention. She was still cursing under her breath. Dani tried to warm her hands and rubbed at her cheeks. She looked in the mirror before she left, and knew she looked like a ghost. She could still feel the nightmares. They clung to her like a wet blanket, but she needed to get rid of them. She needed to look alive when Mae really focused on her again. After hearing what Barney said, Dani was thinking she needed to be the one there for her aunt and not the other way around.

Mae was grumbling. “I should just make Jake kick him out of town. Barney don’t got no family here, and he doesn’t have a job. He’s got nothing. Jake could take him out of town in his cruiser and let him hitchhike to the next town. He’s got a soft spot for him.” She kept going. Her hand moved faster and faster.

“Mae.”

“No.” Mae shook her head. “No, girl. You sit and help yourself to some coffee. I brewed a fresh batch not long ago. It takes all my energy to argue with that damn drunk. He’s so stubborn, but no more. He always says he won’t be a problem if I let him have the bottle, but he’s always harping for a place to sleep.”

Dani poured herself a mug and sat down. She couldn’t help wondering if it was Barney who Mae was even talking about now.

“He don’t got anyone. Why’s he here?” She stopped scrubbing, brushing some of her hair off her forehead. “Yeah.” Her voice was quiet now. “He should go, but he never does. Never will.” Then it was like she remembered Dani was there. Mae blinked a few times, dropped the washcloth on the counter, and looked at her. “What are you doing here at this hour?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">