Save Me (12 page)

Stephanie stares at me from the side of the dance floor and Noble holds me tighter. What is she thinking? Surely she doesn’t hate me, because I’ve done nothing wrong. She does look like she hates me, though.

The song ends. Jason emerges from the crowd and stands at the edge of the dance floor. A male vocalist begins the one song Jason used to sing to me. It’s about being wanted, and if there was one thing I never questioned with Jason, it was how much he wanted me. I could sense it every time I was within fifty yards of him. Tonight it makes me sick. I could throw up if given a bucket. I lean into Noble and let him hold me up as Jason downs a shot, his eyes never leaving mine.

Yes, it was a horrible idea to come here. Jason and I shouldn’t be together in private, let alone at this dance. Noble kisses my cheek and I lean back to see him. My lovely Noble. I push the sight of Jason, the thought of his truck, of the loft, of Cedar Creek Lake out of my head. If I could, I would erase every second of it from my memory.

I lower my head to Noble’s shoulder and admit I would never choose to forget if given the chance.

The song ends and a fast dance begins as Sam emerges from the crowd. I hug him, and we all step off the dance floor. For me, it’s an escape. I’ll hide in the crowd the rest of the night. Noble and Sam fall into the familiar dialogue of best friends who don’t get to see each other often enough, and I stand there, still picturing Jason in my head. Noble looks at me apologetically, not wanting to abandon me. I release him from any husbandly duties with a wink. I want him to enjoy himself.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” I say, and peck Noble. “Take good care of him,” I direct to Sam over my shoulder as I make my way through the crowd.

I finish drying my hands at the sink and reapply my lip gloss. I forgive the universe for its song choices because it’s kept Stephanie Harding out of the bathroom while I’ve been in here. I considered holding it the entire night, but that seemed cowardly. Although I am terrified of what I might say to her…or do to her.
Whore.

I take one last look in the mirror on my way out. I do love this dress, and I love being at this dance with Noble. It’s like I’ve stepped back in time, but I mourned the possibility of that long ago. I open the door and look into the almost-black eyes of Jason Leer, who is leaning on the wall opposite the bathroom door. I pause for a second. The sight of him disarms me and I realize it’s because he’s drunk. He’s sloppy. It’s a weakness I’m not accustomed to with Jason.
How drunk were you the first night with Stephanie?
Does he drink every night he’s with her? The concept sparks a bitter joy as I walk through the door.

“Annie, we need to talk.”

I turn to walk back to the dance floor, back to my husband, and Jason roughly grabs my arm. His paw around it fills my mind with the heady memories of a life with Jason Leer. I glare at his hand touching me and raise my eyebrows to him. I hope he hasn’t noticed the goose bumps now covering me.

“Save your breath,” I say, and steady my voice.

“You’re running as fast as you can, Annie, but you’ll never get away.”

I square my jaw and inhale the smell of whiskey on the powerful Jason Leer. I open my eyes and Noble is fifteen feet away from us, his eyes fixed on Jason’s hand on my arm. His jaw is clenched, his body taut, and I’m reminded of the one time I thought Noble was capable of killing someone, when Jack Reynolds manhandled me two years ago.

I yank my arm from Jason’s grasp, and he glares at Noble, silently challenging him to say something. I walk to Noble without turning back. I’m sure Jason’s still there because Noble hasn’t taken his raging eyes off him.

“I’ll meet you back at the table,” Noble says. I place myself squarely in Noble’s view and his eyes finally focus on me.

“That’s what he wants,” I say, willing him to hear me. “Don’t let him separate us,” I add, and take his hand. Noble looks down at his hand in mine. He runs his thumb across my skin. He returns his eyes to mine and silently studies me, deciding his next move.

“Lead the way,” he says, and relief flows through me.

I don’t leave Noble’s side for the rest of the dance. I watch Stephanie try to help Jason to his truck at the end of the night. Ollie and Possum help her, the weight of the great Jason Leer anchored by alcohol. The thought of tomorrow’s hangover brings me joy.
Who’s reckless now?
If I behaved this way, he’d have me checked into rehab tomorrow.

Noble tips the valet and we drive home in silence. It’s a wordless acceptance of the predicament of death. Butch’s life binds Jason and I together, his death the only escape. I won’t hope for that. I watch Noble in the dim light of the car and wonder what he hopes for.

Noble parks the car in the L-shed and takes the key out of the ignition. We sit silently, me staring at him, him staring at the back wall of the barn.

“Did you have fun tonight?” I ask, and he still doesn’t look at me. “Are you disappointed we aren’t going to the Barnyard Saloon?”

“No. I’m glad we came home,” he says, and gets out of the car. He comes around to my side, opens my door, and practically lifts me out of the car.

“Noble—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” His words are slow. He’s wounded.

“I’m not sure,” I say, searching his eyes for some sign of comfort.

“Not sure about what?”

“If it’s okay not to talk.”

Noble shuts the car door and walks to the house, leaving me alone and in the dark, and I don’t know why.

When I walk into the kitchen, Noble already has his jacket off and an open beer in his hand. He’s huge, his anger filling the room. His suit pants and dress shirt adorn his perfect body as his mind steals his smile.

“I’m going up,” I say, and should kiss him, but he wants to be alone with his fury.

“I’ll be up in a little while.”

I change out of my beautiful black dress. It promised a fairy tale but delivered me alone to unbutton it. I put my grandmother’s earrings back in my mother’s jewelry box, and I take off my rings. My engagement ring sparkles in the moonlight. It’s perfect…and he’s perfect. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.

The old steps creak under my feet as I descend. Noble’s sitting on the couch, the TV tuned to the Weather Channel, a beer in his hand. I stand to the side and even though he knows I’m here, completely naked, he never takes his eyes off the weather. I watch him take a sip of his beer and still he never looks my way. What awful thoughts are running through his head?

I straddle him on the couch. I lean my forearms on his shoulders and run my fingers through his hair, and his hands never come near me. His eyes are distant. His love for me trapped in some horrific reflection. His silence is killing me.

“I need you to tell me,” I plead with him.

“I’m afraid of what I might say.” His eyes are dead; his warmth has hardened.

“I’m not.”

Noble leans over and places his beer on the side table. He sits back up and takes my face in his hand. He runs his thumb over my scar, his eyes deep pools of disgust. He pulls me to him and kisses me. His kiss saying he’s leaving tomorrow, never coming back, and this will have to last us a lifetime. I move closer to him, my naked body a shroud around him. Noble’s eyes follow his hands to my breasts and his touch radiates through me. I watch as he caresses me, claiming what’s his.

“I don’t want him to ever touch you,” he says, his voice low but unmistakably resolute. He returns his eyes to mine and I’m ready to promise him anything.

“Noble—”

He halts me with a raised hand and shakes his head. “I won’t lose you,” he says, and a chill runs through me. My sweet Noble is gone, replaced by a man pushed too far. “Not to him or anyone else.”

“You won’t. I’m yours,” I promise. I kiss him. I let my lips convey how much I want him, how much I need him, as I take him. Noble responds, forgetting his demand, and pulls me to him, his lips forcing every other thought from my mind.

“Come to bed,” I say, and Noble doesn’t respond. “Come make love to me in our bed,” I plead. Noble moves my hair back and kisses my shoulder. His lips move to my neck, and to my ear, and then he leans back, leaving me cold.

“You’re so beautiful, Charlotte. So incredibly beautiful.”

His compliment frightens me. He’s serious, his playfulness fractured, damaged beyond the point of wanting me.

“Noble, don’t do this.” I hate even thinking of Jason, in our house, naked with my husband, but Noble’s letting him come between us. I can’t tell if it’s fear or anger or both but it can’t stay here. Not tonight, not ever. “You’re scaring me.”

Noble studies me. He rubs his hands over my thighs and up my back. Where has my Noble gone? I didn’t know there was this much distance inside his head. That may be what scares me the most.

“How can I frighten you?” he whispers. “I’m incapable of hurting you.”

“I’m not afraid of you hurting me. I’m terrified of living without you,” I say, and lower my eyes.

“You don’t ever have to worry about that,” Noble says, and raises my chin. His smile, his warmth intact, melts me on top of him and I realize I was on the verge of tears. Noble kisses me, and when he leans forward, I wrap my arms and legs tightly around his body. He stands and walks upstairs to our bed with me attached to the front of him.

I
t’s been two weeks since the Harvest Dance. I switched my routine the day after and now spend most mornings with Butch and swim in the afternoon to limit the time I see Jason. Noble noted the change but seemed unwilling to discuss the reasoning. Marie seems to understand without saying a word.

Today is different, though. Jason, Jay, Butch, and Marie are coming over to dye Easter eggs with Lily and me. She’s so excited you might think she’s expecting her prom date. She colored a picture of an Easter basket full of eggs for Jay and had me help her write the letter
J
above it. I try to recall if Jay knows his ABCs. Maybe we’ll work on those next.

At one o’clock I pull my car close to Butch’s back door. As I enter the kitchen, Jay runs over to me.

“Annie!” he yells, and Jason and Butch look up at me. I’ve missed seeing Jason. More than I should ever admit. Even though I should be pissed at him for causing trouble at the Harvest Dance, his beautiful face and gray eyes practically disable me in the doorway. He hasn’t shaved in a while and a light beard is beginning to form and…and…yeah, that.

I kneel down and Jay wraps his arms around my neck. He is such a little love bug.

“Hi, Jay. I missed you,” I say, giving him my full attention. “Are you ready to dye eggs?”

“I don’t know how,” he says, his words filled with worry.

“Ah, it’s easy. I’ll show you.” I pat his back and stand up with his arms still around my neck. I lift him, too, and the shock lingers on Jason’s face. Utter amazement settles on his ridiculously hot, unshaven face.

“Where’s Butch?” I ask.

Jason nods to the living room. “Says he’s not coming.”

“Bad day?” I ask, and Jason shrugs. It’s difficult to tell a bad day from a good one now. I put Jay back on his feet and walk into the next room. Butch is in the recliner with his feet up. It reminds me of the times when his knee was our biggest problem. I miss those days.

“You ready to go, Butch?” I ask with a soft voice. I hate being gentle with him. He rolls his eyes at me. He must not feel that bad. The worse he feels the sweeter he gets, preparing to meet his maker. “Do you have something better to do today?” I say, and Butch grumbles as he attempts to get out of the chair. I leap to his side and support him until Jason takes the other side with ease. With an arm around Butch’s waist, he takes the weight off me and I’m glad he’s here.

“Be careful,” I warn him, noting his detachment from the entire term careful. Jason smiles at me and I turn my eyes away as a chill runs across my nipples.
Why, God?
Jason and Butch follow me out. I open my car door and wait for Butch to bitch that driving across the lawn is ridiculous. When he doesn’t, I glance back at Marie, who’s frowning. Butch, Jay, and I ride to my house, following Marie and Jason on foot, and I pull up close to the door with Butch’s side of the car. Instead of dying eggs, I want to rest my head on my steering wheel and cry.

Jason opens Butch’s door and helps him out while I carry Jay. For only being a few months older than Lily, he’s a lot heavier. He’s probably going to be an ox. Jay plays with the ruffles adorning my black, V-neck wrap dress. He follows them to my waist and leans over to see they cascade down to the hemline at my knees. It’s a carefree dress I wore to church and now to dye Easter eggs with this cute little boy in my arms. I’m going to miss him, too, when they leave. All the Leer boys will leave at the same time.

“Aunt Shar, Uncle Nick wuz here but he don’t want make eggs.”

“No?” I ask.

Jason has that smirk on his face I always want to slap off. BJ runs over, excited to have everyone in his house. He’s almost as tall as Jay and loves being able to lick his face without having to jump on him. Jay giggles and hugs BJ, which has the dog practically rolling on the floor with joy.

Joy…let it in, Charlotte.

We dye eggs and I’m not sure if the kids or the adults enjoy it more. I show Jay and Lily how to use a white crayon to draw on their eggs, and Marie draws intricate lace and geometrical patterns on hers before dipping them in the cups. Butch draws a cross on his, which renders us all speechless.

Jay and Lily only spill two bowls of dye and by the time we’re done, we’ve created five dozen glorious eggs. I make Butch comfortable in the recliner in my living room and get him a cup of tea. Marie takes the kids in to play and leaves Jason and me to clean up. I move the egg trays to the counter and place them on newspaper to catch any lingering drips.

“I’m sorry,” Jason says as he carries cups to the sink to empty the dye.

“For what?”
I cannot talk about this.

“All the trouble I caused you at the dance.” Jason doesn’t look sorry.

“What trouble? There was no trouble,” I blurt out too fast, sounding like the inept liar that I am. Jason smiles sincerely as he appears to fight back laughter.

“Why haven’t you been around the past few weeks?”

The familiar need to punch him returns. “I’ve gone to Butch’s every day,” I say, and roll up the newspaper covering the table.

“What time do you go?” he asks, but he’s not challenging my answer. He’s collecting information.

I hear Jay giggling in the other room and from the sound of it I can tell BJ is smothering him with his beagle love again.

“Your son loves dogs.”

“He loves this one for sure. He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him here,” he says, and follows me to the mudroom, where I crush the newspaper into the paper bin.

“That’s great. He should know about New Jersey.” Jason is standing too close, or the room is too small. I stand up straight and he’s practically touching me. I’m surprised my heartbeat doesn’t push him away.

“Not New Jersey. He loves it here…with you.”

“Don’t.” My voice is thick with regret. Jason puts his hand on my back and pulls me to him. He leans back and runs his fingers across my collarbone and I realize I’m sweating as the chill skips across my skin. I should punch him in the face and throw him out of my house, but instead I drop my head back, exposing my neck for his rediscovery. A deep ache growls from my groin as every muscle tightens, praying for his touch. My body is electrified with the memories of Jason coursing through it. I take a deep breath and let it all rise from the dead.

The back door opens and Michelle walks in as I stand with my head hanging back, my body at the mercy of Jason Leer.

“Hey,” she says, trying to take it all in. “I was just coming to pick up Lily.” She looks from Jason to me and says nonchalantly, “Noble’s right behind me, pulling the tractor in now.”

“I’ll be right back,” I say, and turn to go upstairs as I hear Jason tell Butch it’s time to go.

The commotion of Butch’s departure and Lily leaving are in the background as I pull myself together on the second floor. When I come back down, the house is empty except for BJ wagging his tail in the kitchen. I see Noble through the kitchen window. He’s walking away from the house, punishing the ground with each angry step. I lean over the sink to see him better. An egg catches my eye, cracked and abandoned in the bottom of the sink. It’s bright turquoise and as I turn the shell over in my hand, I realize it had an A on it. I close my eyes and the chill stings me again as I watch my pissed-off husband storm across his field.