Save Me (7 page)

I
’m staring out the window as the first flakes of snow begin to fall. It’s unusual to have snow this early, before the leaves have fallen. Apparently, the presence of the leaves and the weight of the snow are the two factors leading to the widespread power outage predictions. I’ve filled the tub with water, knowing that once we lose power we’ll have no pump for the well, no water, and I’ve taken what I’m sure will be my last shower for a few days.

Noble’s still asleep. I don’t even know what time he came home last night. Sean stopped by earlier to see if I needed anything before the storm. It’s a good thing I didn’t, because he said every store in the county had empty shelves. No more milk, bread, or eggs. The hardware store was out of shovels and salt, and the big chain stores in Delaware had lines out the doors for days for generators. The Eastern Seaboard is battening down the hatches together.

Sean said Noble and the rest of the county’s farmers finished the entire harvest. When I told him I’ve barely seen Noble in a week, he reiterated what a great guy he is. Apparently, the whole town’s singing Noble’s praises as their grain rests in the dryers, waiting for transport.

I pull the brownies out of the oven and immediately place a piece of masking tape on the side of the dish with “special” written on it. It took me forty-five minutes to ground and cook the weed in the oil. I don’t want to confuse the two pans. It’s hard to imagine, especially among the guests at Clint’s Halloween party, but there might be someone out there who doesn’t want to eat pot brownies. Thus the reason for two trays.

This will be my first visit to my parents’ house for a party hosted by Clint. I’ll be a guest. I stuff the extra-large pantyhose I bought with towels until I’m satisfied I appear at least eight months pregnant. I pull my mother’s wedding dress over my head. It’s has an empire waist and a full skirt. Perfect for hiding a pregnancy. I mentally attempt to count the months between their anniversary and Sean’s birthday until BJ jumps on my pristine gown and I lose track of my calculations.

The dress hangs in that perfectly inappropriate way that’s only acceptable on Halloween. It stretches over my fake belly, practically bursting at the seams. The tiny pearls and sequins reek of the eighties and I kind of love it. I pull the front of my hair back and secure the beaded headpiece as Noble walks into the room.

“Aaah, my lovely bride,” he says, and kisses my neck, threatening to keep us here all night.

I put a foot between us, hoping to give us a chance of leaving the house. “I want to at least make it to the party for a little while. Clint’s put a lot of work into it.”

“Such a prude, my bride is,” Noble says, and slips into the denim overalls he’s wearing tonight. “It’s obvious you put out.” He takes a shotgun out of the gun case and slings the strap over his shoulder.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re not taking a real gun to this party,” I say, and Noble eyes me, questioning if I’ve lost my mind. “I cannot stand one more tragedy. I bought you this one from the Dollar Store.” I hand him a toy shotgun with a cheap strap to hang over his shoulder.

“You’re kidding, right? This is a disgrace. I am a hunter,” he says, completely not agreeing with my safety precautions.

“Please. I know it’s stupid, but I’ll worry all night you are going to shoot someone and be in prison for the rest of our lives.”

“You worry too much,” Noble says, and kisses me again.

“That’s what happens when you have something you can’t bear to lose. You worry about it.”

Noble puts a straw hat on his head and takes my eyeliner to black out his front teeth. I can barely stop laughing long enough to take a picture with my phone.

“What? Don’t you find me attractive?” he asks, flaunting his new and improved smile.

“Always.” I hand him a tray of brownies to carry. I grab the other and we walk through the snow to Noble’s truck. He opens the door for me and helps me climb into the passenger side before placing both trays of brownies on my lap.

“Why two trays?” he asks.

“One is brownies. The other is pot brownies.”

Noble shakes his head as he closes the truck door and walks to the driver’s side. “You’re such a criminal,” he says, and starts the engine.

“Pot is still illegal?” I ask as if it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. “What a waste.” I search the gray sky for something other than falling snowflakes. There is nothing.

Several cars line the driveway and the yard at my parents’—Clint’s—house. Noble drops me off at the garage and helps me out with my two pans of brownies. He pulls off the driveway and parks on the lawn, the truck pointing toward the road. Noble takes care of everything.

We walk in and are met by the hilarious costumes of our childhood friends. Clint is a hammer. He’s wearing all black with a silver hammerhead made out of aluminum foil anchored to a hat on his head. Jocelyn, who he is unbelievably still dating, is of course dressed as a nail. Nadine and Derrick are salt and pepper shakers. Chris Black is a lifeguard with one of those fake muscle chests. He has pierced both nipples and has a chandelier earring hanging from each one. There’s plenty to find funny and we do. Noble and I laugh ourselves silly before the brownies even begin to take effect, and when they do, we can barely control ourselves. We spend the party catching up with everyone we’ve missed the past few months. Sam abandoned Philly to be at his parents’ house for the storm, providing us with the pleasure of his company for a few days. He’s brought his new girlfriend home with him. She’s a police officer, Sam happily her prisoner.

When the clock strikes midnight, I wander through the hallway of my childhood home. The fresh paint on the walls and new flooring and trim solidify its new owner. I marvel at Clint’s library in what used to be Sean’s room. It used to be decorated with posters and football jerseys, and now the walls are covered with bookcases that stretch from the floor to the ceiling. Dark mahogany, rich with interest, hold books Clint has collected from yard sales. He built a bench into the wall below the windows and it’s now a cozy nook for reading. Sean has to come see this. He won’t believe it.

“Do you miss this house?” Noble asks, startling me as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind.

“No.” The word lingers on my lips. It’s not this place I miss.

Noble turns me around and kisses me. “No?” he asks, gauging my honesty.

“I clung to it for a while because if felt like my last tie to a family, but you’re my family now.” I take Noble’s face in my hands.
My beautiful Noble.
“My home is wherever you are,” I say, and kiss him with every need I’ve kept quiet since Noble began harvesting ahead of the storm.

Noble lifts me toward him, perfectly fitting my body to his. His hunger replaces his caress, his hands searching for my skin under my voluminous gown. He finds the hundred buttons in the back and, with a hand on each side of the fabric, rips the gown open. The tearing sound halts his probe.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte,” he says, concerned with my mother’s gown.

“I’m not.” I lock the door before I lead him back to the chair in the corner of the room. “I want it off me more than you do.” Noble pulls my dress over my head and I tear off my panty hose and fake bump. I land on top of Noble just as he lowers his overalls to the floor, and I devour his mouth with my own as we fall backward into the chair. When I’m out of breath, I rise up and Noble takes my nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls it, leaving it hard and protruding and my other one cries out for attention. His mouth quiets it and I moan. I let my head fall back, the falling snow my only view from the window.

Noble lifts me up and guides himself into me. He takes my hands from his chest and weaves his fingers through each of mine. I use our interlocked hands as leverage to rise and fall and when I come down the second time, Noble pulls our hands toward him and I collapse on his chest.

“I love you, Charlotte,” he says, and kisses me, not waiting for a response. Noble pulls out and climbs behind me, still leaning me over the chair. He enters me from behind and pulls my hair to the side to kiss my neck as he does. Noble in me, the touch of his body, spreads through me and the warmth takes over. My body has missed him. I’ve missed him. He holds the side of my head with one hand and kisses the other with lips that lavish every inch of me. They travel down my neck as Noble continues his rhythm in and out and I try and breathe with every inch of him exactly where he belongs. He kisses my neck, my shoulder and runs his lips halfway down my back. He is love, and desire, and everything in between.

I want Noble to make love to me for the rest of my life.

“Don’t stop, Noble.” I plead for more than right now. Noble doesn’t respond; he takes his finger to me as he rams into me from behind. I bite my lip to keep from screaming something that can be heard over the music and come as Noble slows and enters me one final time. He rests in me as I hang my head onto the chair and try to recover.

Noble’s lips are on my neck again and I shiver under their attention. He wraps his arms around me and climbs onto the chair beneath me, pulling me toward him. We sit, me on top of him, my face toward the door, and when I shiver, Noble pulls my dress on top of us and warms me with his lips. He holds both my hands and I lean back on his solid shoulder and close my eyes.

“I want you to go off the pill,” he says, and my eyes fly open. “I want you to have my baby.”

“Why?” But that’s not what I’m asking. “Why now?” Noble turns me around and I straddle him. He is happy, completely content with me naked on top of him. I take his chin in my hand and kiss him. My tongue gets away from me, taking what it wants and forgetting the conversation.

“You’re not going to change the subject.” He pulls back an inch. “You were twenty when your parents died,” he says, and I look down at his belly button. He lifts my head and my eyes find his again. “None of us knows what is meant to be, but I’m not going to wait around for any of it.”

“You should have married Violet. She’s the trailblazer.”

“I’m exactly where I should be.” He kisses me again and holds my face in his hands. “What’s there to wait for, Charlotte?”

“I’ll be twenty-five next month. Doesn’t that seem young? We just got married.”

“You were too young to lose your parents. Too young for so many things.” His voice trails off and I hate the other things. Before I can drown in my memories Noble kisses me. His lips, soft and gentle on mine. I’m going to cry. “This is perfect, Charlotte. There’s nothing to fix, nothing to conquer, nothing to settle, nothing to wait for.” There’s
nothing
but truth in his words. “Let’s have a baby.”

“Can I think about it? I might just want to enjoy you, without sharing you, for a little while.”

“There’s plenty of me to go around,” Noble says. “But you can take as long as you need. I’ll just keep trying to get you pregnant whether you’re on the pill or not.” Noble kisses me again and I rest my head on his shoulder.

Am I really going to be twenty-five next month? Time marches on. It slips through my grasp. My parents are gone…forever. Lily is eighteen months now and it’s as if she’s been with us our entire lives. People die, others are born, life keeps moving on. Noble seems fine with the forward progress. I’m always lagging behind him. He pulls me into life, forces me to live it. It must be exhausting for him. I stand and watch him pull up his overalls. He is as light as air, not weighed down in the least.

“What?” he asks, and walks over to me. “Did I upset you?” His face is full of concern.

“No.” I shake my head. “You couldn’t upset me. I’ll stop taking the pill and we’ll see what happens. Whatever is in God’s plan.” Now that I am safely with Noble, I’m willing to accept there is a plan without becoming totally pissed off.

Noble pulls me to him and holds me tightly. I bury my head in his chest, thankful to have him. So thankful he’s here, in this life, with me.

N
oble goes out to the Volvo and starts it to let it warm up. The temperature hasn’t gone above freezing in weeks. This is the worst winter I can remember, and it’s barely begun. I bend over and give BJ a kiss good-bye on the head.

“We won’t be late. Just a birthday dinner,” I say, and BJ tilts his head, listening. I lock the door behind me and walk to the car Noble has pulled up to the house so I don’t have to walk all the way to the L-shed. The wind pierces my scarf and whips across my neck. Noble’s waiting to open the door for me.

“Happy birthday, Charlotte.” He flashes his signature naughty grin at me.

“Are you sure you want to go out?” I ask. From the expression on his face, I’m surprised we’ve made it this far.

“For a little while. Part of your gift we need to be home for.” My heart begins to race. “We’ll get arrested if I put my tongue there in public,” he says, and the heat rises in my chest. I lean into Noble and kiss him. I close my eyes and forget it’s cold outside as his warmth fills me. “Get in the car,” he commands. “Or we’ll never leave.”

I climb into the Volvo and reach for the button to heat my seat, but Noble already has it on. He is going to be a great dad. Julia is going to kill me when I tell her we’re trying to have a baby. I can’t even predict Jenn’s reaction. She’s already annoyed I’m married this young. The only thing appeasing her is our delayed honeymoon to Hawaii in January. We’re planning on spending at least a week with her. Maybe I’ll ask Noble to wait until after Christmas for a baby.

Noble takes my hand as he drives over the river. The water is the color of steel and the sky a dark charcoal. It reminds me of Jason’s eyes, like the water when he was placated, like the sky when he was not. Noble squeezes my hand and I forget Jason. Just because the northeast is gray this time of year doesn’t mean I’m going to spend every day reminiscing about Jason. I can’t. I’ll go insane.

“You know, I don’t think I realized when we got married that you’re not only rich, but also an older woman.” Noble keeps a straight face as we glide through the EZ Pass lane.

“Is this supposed to make me feel better about my birthday?” I ask, not amused.

“Do you see the way I look at you?” He’s practically licking his lips.

“Yes. You are a very naughty boy, Noble Sinclair.”

“I am going to look at you the exact same way when we are seventy-five and, even if I can’t get it up, when we’re eighty-five, too.”

“There’s something to look forward to. Can we talk about something else?”

“What do you want to talk about? What are you looking forward to?” I watch Noble merge, switch lanes, and exit off the highway. The few people on the streets of Wilmington are bundled up so tight their eyes are barely visible. They’re rushing somewhere. At some point during the last five years, I stopped looking forward to things…stopped looking forward at all.

“Charlotte?” he says as he pulls into a parking space next to Mikimotos.

“Mmm, sushi. You’re too good to me, Noble.”

“I know. You are spoiled rotten. Hard to be around,” he says, and jumps out of the car to open my door for me.

The hostess seats us at a table by the window and we watch the Friday rush hour leave the city. It’s dark early now, daylight savings time having robbed the afternoon of daylight and paid it to daybreak. Noble’s days are shorter, too. His work is almost finished for the year. The waitress comes and we order Brooklyn Lagers and three sushi rolls, but save a menu for more. Sushi is one more thing Noble and I have in common.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” I dig my phone out of my bag. “Will you keep an eye on this? Sean said Lily is going to call me tonight to wish me a happy birthday and I don’t want to talk to her in the bathroom,” I say, and wrinkle up my nose.

“No problem. I’ll gladly speak with Princess Lily.”

“Uncle Nick is her favorite.”

I return from the bathroom to Noble is staring out the window, my phone in his hand.

“Did she call?” I’m excited to talk to her. I take a sip of my beer as Noble turns to me with anger in his eyes. His hate-filled gaze makes me sit back in my chair. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You got a text,” Noble answers with a flat voice.

“From Lily?”
What is going on?

“No.” Noble tosses my phone onto the table in front of me.

I’m still confused as I pick up my phone and press the
HOME
button. A text lights up the screen.

I swallow hard as I read the text. Anger wells up inside of me. He wrote this for Noble as much as for me. Otherwise he would have left off the O’Brien. What an ass.

“I didn’t realize Jason was in your contacts,” Noble says, still coursing with ice.

“He’s not.” I stare down at the text on my phone, labeled with Jason Leer as the sender. I’m confused…“I don’t…I don’t understand,” I say as I try to put the pieces together.
He is evil.

“Is it possible he doesn’t know we’re married?” Noble asks.

I’m not sure how he can give Jason the benefit of the doubt. I guess it’s because Noble doesn’t realize that it’s not possible for Jason to not know anything. Especially when it comes to me.

“No. He knows,” I say, and look Noble in the eye. I don’t want him to suspect for one second I’m hiding something from him. That’s not how marriage works.

“Have you spoken to him?”

“Not since the wedding,” I answer, maybe a little too quickly. “I wrote him a letter to tell him about the wedding.” The words lodge in my throat, but Noble’s not giving an inch. “And I saw him briefly before the ceremony.”

Noble rubs the scruff on his chin and stares at a pointless spot on the table. The waitress places our sushi rolls between us and looks at Noble and then me.

“Can I…uh…get you guys anything else right now?” She takes a step back and waits for our answer. Noble is even scary to strangers.

“We’ll take another round, when you have a chance,” I say, and down my beer.

“What did he want?” Noble asks, and finally faces me. “Never mind. I know what he wanted…wants.” The words sting as they reach my ears.
I could fucking kill you, Jason Leer.
I peer around, half expecting him to be in the restaurant.

“Noble.” I grab his hands from his beer glass. “Noble, look at me.” Noble turns his angry eyes on me. “He doesn’t matter. None of this matters. I don’t know why his contact is in my phone, but I don’t plan on using it. He’s hanging on to the past.” I squeeze his hands. “I’m Charlotte Sinclair now.”

Noble swallows hard. I rub his hands reassuringly. He has to believe me because there’s not much else I can say. I can’t keep telling Jason
and
Noble the same thing. At some point I’ll exhaust myself.

“Is that my birthday present?” I point to the box Noble placed on the windowsill after we sat down.

“Yes,” he says, his demeanor relaxing.

He hands me the box. It’s about the size of his palm and wrapped in aluminum foil. I’m careful with the wrapping, not sure what I’m saving it for. Treating this entire meal as delicate now. I lift the lid and fabric pops out of the box. It’s small triangles and strings, all a beautiful mix of turquoise and deep blue. As I hold a piece in front of my face, I realize it’s a bathing suit, a very tiny string bikini. I raise my eyebrows at it.

“For Hawaii,” Noble says, his self fully restored.

“I’ll try it on as soon as we get home,” I say, and dig into our sushi.

It’s as if Thanksgiving is the day after my birthday. But in fact, it’s been over two weeks since I turned twenty-five. The weeks flash on their way past, and I still can’t keep up. Michelle and I are busy in the kitchen when the phone rings. Noble walks in and grabs the receiver.

“Oh hey, Happy Thanksgiving,” he says. Who would call here on Thanksgiving? “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that,” he continues. “I’ll bring some leftovers in a little while.” With this I can tell he’s talking to Butch or Marie. Probably Marie since Butch talks on the phone as little as possible. Noble hangs up and I look at him, my hands covered with potato peels as I try and gather them up from the bottom of the sink.

“They’re not coming?”

“No. Marie said Butch isn’t feeling well. They’re going to hang back,” Noble says, and pulls a bottle of wine off the shelf in the mudroom.

“Oh. Maybe it’s his knee. I’ll check on him after dinner,” I say as Lily toddles into the room. She’s pulling BJ by the collar and stops every few steps to kiss and hug him. He loves her, but she’s tough on him. I always tell him some people’s love hurts, and Lily is one of those people. Noble pulls her off the poor dog.

“How about you and Uncle Nick make a list of all the things we’re thankful for?” he suggests. Lily delights in anything that begins with her and Uncle Nick. I hear him searching for paper and a crayon in the Lily Art Box we keep in the dining room. I lose track as Michelle pours herself a glass of wine and plops down at the kitchen table for the first time in the last few hours. Thank God she’s here. I wouldn’t know what the heck I was doing alone in the kitchen with a roasting pan.

“Butch didn’t have any family come to town?” Michelle asks, and takes a sip of her wine.

“No. Not this year.” I pour myself a glass.

“That’s nice.” She tips her head, acknowledging our secret conversation.

“It is. Especially for our first Thanksgiving together. I wouldn’t mind if he stayed away forever,” I say, and can hear Lily laughing at something Noble is saying.

“I think Noble and Sean agree.”

“Not you?” I ask, half joking with her.

“I don’t know. I guess I always thought you two would be together,” Michelle says, shocking me. I’m pretty sure Sean would kill her if he heard this. “Don’t get me wrong. I love how things are right now. I’m just a masochist, I guess.”

“You would have to be.” I nod and gulp some more wine.

Besides that crazy nonsense about Jason, Michelle was a huge help. Dinner was delicious and I couldn’t have done it without her. I took careful mental notes in case I ever have to pull it off alone. While Noble washes the cookware, I pack up the leftovers—one set for Sean and Michelle, one for our house, and a little of everything for Butch and Marie. Butch’s knee must be acting up again. He loves a meal hot out of the oven.

I bag the food and invite BJ to come with me while I deliver it to Butch’s. Seeing BJ might improve Butch’s mood. Somehow the sweetest dog in the entire world and the crustiest old man are perfect companions. Opposites really do attract. BJ and I cross Butch’s yard with my bag of leftovers. I pull my coat up around my ears. The wind makes the temperature feel much colder than the forty-three degrees it’s supposed to be. I fumble with my bag of food and the keys to the multiple locks on Butch’s door as BJ stands ready to pounce into the house, his nose at the doorjamb, his tail wagging furiously.

Once inside I watch Butch hurriedly exit the kitchen and his knee seems fine. Marie, on the other hand, is more worried than I’ve ever seen her and she was with me when my grandmother died. The air of dismay angers me immediately.

“What’s going on?” I ask, leaving no question that I’m not leaving without the answer. Whatever
this
is, it will not be sugarcoated.

Marie takes a deep breath and stops cleaning the countertop. “Butch found blood in his stool this morning,” she says, and stares silently at me, but I don’t know what any of that means.

“Jesus Christ! For the love of God can a man have an ounce of dignity in this house?” Butch bellows as he hustles from the family room into his bedroom.

“Where are you going?” I yell into the hallway.

“To get my gun, goddammit!”

“To kill me or yourself?” I yell back, and take a deep breath and blow it out my cheeks.

“What do you think it means?” I ask Marie.

“I don’t know. It could mean a lot of things, but this isn’t the first time.” I scrutinize Marie, angry it’s the first I’m hearing about it. “I didn’t know either. He just told me, which makes me think it’s serious. Butch isn’t a big sharer.”

Empathy replaces my anger. Butch isn’t one to make it easy to love and care for him. I grab my cell phone and scroll through the contacts. I stop at Jason Leer, realizing I’ve gone too far, and scroll back up to Dr. Grubb’s phone number. I dial it, expecting to get an answering service of some kind, but Dr. Grubb himself answers.

“Dr. Grubb, hi. It’s Charlotte Sinclair,” I say, and realize I could have thought this through a little more before dialing. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, Charlotte. What can I do for you? Is everyone all right?”

“Actually, Butch has blood in his stool—”

“Jesus, Annie!” Butch interrupts.

“I don’t have very much information, but we’re very worried over here.”

“Have him at my office first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll be waiting for you at eight.”

“Thanks, Dr. Grubb.” I hang up the phone and turn to Marie. “Eight o’clock tomorrow morning,” I say, and notice Butch standing in the doorway, his head hanging low and defeat oozing from him.
Buck up, Butch. If the war didn’t kill you…and I haven’t killed you…

It’s been a long week since we saw Dr. Grubb. Marie and I wait for Butch in the waiting room of the building where colonoscopies are done. As far as I know, they’re going to put Butch completely out and run a scope of some kind through his colon. I’m trying hard not to figure out the details of how it works.

Butch and Marie were silent the entire way here. For a man as proud as Butch, a tube up the ass is probably a bit degrading. His doctor told us the entire procedure will only take a few minutes, but the anesthesia might keep us here for two hours.

“Are you going to tell Jason?” Marie asks. Her voice is quiet so as to not disturb the other people waiting.

“You don’t think Butch will?” I ask, hating to be in the middle of this.

“I’m still grateful he told me. I don’t think he’ll call his son.”

“I’ll wait until we know. How much can one person take?” I ask to no one sitting in this room. I’ve Googled blood in the stool. I know one of the causes is cancer. “How many parents can you watch die?” Marie rubs her hands together.
Why are you not saying he’s not going to die, Marie?