Scaredy Cat (11 page)

“Look, I know our adventure ended on a muddy note, but you jumped a massive hurdle. Don’t forget that. You were really terrified, yet you swung on that rope. I’m super proud of you. Now I want to tell you something Jacob told me about. I want you to just listen and think about it. We don’t have to do it tonight or not even next week, but I think it would be good for you in a number of ways.”

Blake began tapping her fingers on the window frame. “That’s a big buildup. It’s already making me nervous.”

“Jacob has a friend,” Quinn continued, “he and a group of guys are ghost hunters. We could go—”

“Fuck no! Fucking…shit…no. I’ve seen shows about that. They do it in the fucking dark.”

Quinn reached over and put a hand on Blake’s arm. “Tell me what you’re feeling right now, all the physical symptoms.”

“My chest is tight, it’s a little hard to breathe…kinda sweaty…queasy, but not as bad as when I was in that tree because then I was pretty sure I was going to wet my pants. Fuck.” Blake whimpered.

“But you didn’t because I distracted you with the offer to stay at your house. You began to weigh the options, and it took your mind off your fear…kind of. You’ve already been using that skill, and I don’t think you realize that. You’re afraid at night, so you do what distracts your mind, you write. You just have to master distraction. Do you know the ‘Star Spangled Banner’?”

“Yes…fuck…yes.” Blake inhaled sharply and let it out slowly.

“When you feel that tightening in your chest, sing that song.” Quinn continued to hold Blake’s arm. “We’ll put the ghost hunt on the back burner for a while and focus on some other things.”

“Like what—wrestling alligators because that would only be slightly less horrifying? At least it’s during the day.”

Quinn pulled into her driveway and parked. “I meant to tell you earlier that the sunlight in your hair brings out all the different shades of brown. Your natural color is very lovely.”

The topic change and what Quinn had to say instantly stilled the trembling Blake felt inside. “Thank you,” she said with a goofy smile. “I like your hair down. It’s even kind of pretty with all the leaves stuck in it right now. You’ve got a fall motif going on.”

Quinn smiled. “Now that our self-confidence is bolstered, let’s jump out of this truck like a couple of badasses.”

*******

Blake wandered around Quinn’s house as she showered. The pantry door in the kitchen stood open. There was enough light streaming through the windows, and the light in the kitchen was on. The normally dark space was illuminated. Blake felt brave enough to peek inside. On the shelves, there were cans, boxes of cereal, and potatoes in a basket. On another shelf were plastic pipe joints arranged by size and shape. It reminded her of what Quinn did for a living and how she crawled into dark cramped places probably on a daily basis. Quinn had claimed to be afraid of the creatures that lived in that environment, but she faced them anyway. Blake wondered what really made such a formidable woman quake or if anything actually did. She longed to be like Quinn.

She turned to go back into the kitchen and noticed lines and dates along with Quinn’s and her siblings’ names next to them. According to the chart, Quinn had been taller than her at eleven. Blake thought about the woman who had taken the time to measure the growth of her children. She marveled at what little it took for her to turn her back on her own flesh and blood.

That notion made Blake think about her mother. They had not spoken since Blake arrived there in September. That was a record, and Blake missed her terribly. It was so hard for her to accept that someone who loved her so deeply could be a detriment to her mental health. The concept seemed so ironic, so backward. She longed for that day when that would not be so.

She jumped when Quinn suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Are you hiding in my pantry?”

Blake smiled and wrapped her arms around herself. “I was snooping, the door was open.” She pointed to the marks on the jamb. “You grew really fast.”

Quinn poked her head in and stared at the chart for a moment. “Yeah, my folks had a hard time keeping shoes and pants on me. Mom always said it seemed I grew overnight. She used to joke about making me sleep in a cardboard box to stop it.”

“What was she like when you were small?”

“Tired.” Quinn stepped out of the way and let Blake out of the pantry. “She was always cooking or cleaning, working in the yard. She was mechanically inclined, too. She fixed all the things she got tired of waiting for Dad to do.” Quinn smiled wistfully. “But she read to us every night. Dawn would whine when Mom would turn off the TV, but Jacob and I would curl up under a blanket on the couch and listen to every story.”

Quinn ran her hands through her wet hair. “She used to get irritated with me when I got into my teens. Dawn would let Mom fix her hair and teach her how to apply makeup properly. I never would. I was always a mess, usually sweaty, no regard for my appearance because I was too busy playing basketball. I wanted a ponytail, and that was it. Mom said I looked like a feral cat most of the time.” She laughed. “And I did.”

“Hey,” Blake said when Quinn began to fuss with the overnight bag she’d dropped on the table. “You don’t have to stay with me. It’s not fair to make you do that.”

Quinn didn’t look at her as she appeared to be making sure she’d packed everything she needed. “I’m a woman who keeps her promises, I want to go. You make me laugh, you make me forget…things. Besides, this will be like a vacation where I can come home for stuff I’ve forgotten when I need to. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

Quinn opened the door and held it. “When your book is finished, will you go straight back to New York?”

“The house is rented through March. I have the option to go home in December when this book will hopefully be done or stay here until the spring.”

“I hope you’ll stay,” Quinn said and averted her gaze when Blake passed.

Chapter 19

“There’s still a lot of daylight left.” Quinn parked her truck in Blake’s driveway.

“Oh…God…you’re thinking of another hurdle for me, aren’t you?”

“It’s utilitarian. We need to eat, and it’s a beautiful afternoon, so here’s my plan. You and I will take a walk, and while we’re out, I’ll pick up something to barbecue. When we get back, I’ll dig the Meyers’s grill out of the storage shed and make dinner while you write.”

“Okay,” Blake agreed with a nod.

Quinn looked surprised. “No arguing, no cussing?”

“No. I’ll be fine because you’ll be right there with me.” Blake pushed open the door. “Let’s go.”

*******

Blake stayed close, but she didn’t grab or try to climb Quinn as they lazily strolled down the sidewalk. Quinn pointed out landmarks and told the stories behind them. “You see that house with all the New Orleans Saints flags in the yard? That was an empty lot when I was growing up. It had a dirt hill, and Jacob and I would ramp off of it on our bikes.”

“You never mention anyone but Jacob. Weren’t there other kids you played with, or were you always that close?”

“We’ve always been close. But Jacob didn’t fit in with the other boys. None of them wanted to play with him. When you meet my brother, you’ll probably think he’s gay. He tries hard to appear what is considered manly, but he’s more feminine than I am with the way he walks and gestures. I thought for sure he was just like me, and I waited through our teen years to hear him confess it. When he was little, the other boys teased him relentlessly. Even after he started dating Tonya in high school, they still taunted him. He’s been married since he was eighteen, but everyone in town calls him a closet case queer. I have to admit that I wondered about that, too, until we had a talk after I was shoved out of the closet. Jacob is most definitely straight and totally in love with his wife.”

Blake glanced at Quinn. “Who shoved you out?” she asked, though she already knew the answer, wanting to hear Quinn’s version.

“The asshole you met at the grocery store, Glenda Percy. I grew up watching how everyone treated Jacob, and I knew if I came out, I’d face the ridicule, too. There were already rumors because I wasn’t married and I didn’t date any of the men here. Cowardly, I made my folks believe that the reason I was going to New Orleans every weekend was to see a guy, but I was going to the bars to meet women. I’d begun dating one pretty steadily, and she came here for a weekend. I guess the strange car in the driveway piqued Glenda’s curiosity, so much so that she came to my house after dark one night and looked in the window. By the next morning, everyone in town knew I was making out with another woman on my couch.”

“She really is despicable,” Blake said with disgust.

“No one saw it that way. No one seemed to care that Glenda was a peeping Tom, only that I was a
faggot
. I heard that word whispered a lot whenever I ventured out of my house. Mom and Dad confronted me, and I admitted the truth. It took Dad a little while to come to terms with it, but Mom never did. The day I sat at their kitchen table when all my secrets came out, the relationship between us changed and grew worse over time. Now we’re like strangers.”

Quinn inhaled sharply and looked around. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore today. I’m in good company, it’s a cool, pretty day, and I’d just like to enjoy it. So tell me what you feel about this experience.”

“I feel good.”

“You’re a writer, you can do better than that. Give me detail, emotions. Do it like you would in a book.”

They walked in silence for a minute or two, then Blake cleared her throat. “Blake Taylor heard and saw all the things that usually struck fear inside of her, mundane things to which most people only devoted an insignificant amount of attention. The sounds of birds singing their songs, a dog barking somewhere in the distance all seemed to fade into the background as she breathed in fresh air and simply strolled along. The late day sun cast its warm glow, trees gently swayed in the breeze and every so often released a leaf to drift and eventually join the others on the ground. Tidy lawns surrounded her, gardens still produced flowers, and potted mums seemed to be on every porch along with pumpkins, a colorful celebration of fall. Blake was distracted by the beauty of it all, but what truly calmed her spirit and soothed her soul was the woman who walked beside her. Quinn Scott probably had no clue that Blake considered her strength, compassion, and friendship the most valuable of gifts.”

Quinn wasn’t a writer and struggled with finding the right words to say how incredible she felt at that moment. “I thought you would say something about that ugly scarecrow Mrs. Patterson has sitting on her bench.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you. I’m honored that you feel that way.”

Blake tucked her hands behind her back. “I assume that the ghost hunters will probably be doing something special on Halloween. I suppose I might be ready by then to face that hurdle, but I can only do it if you promise that you will never leave my side.”

“I won—”

“That you’ll hold my hand.”

“I wi—”

“You won’t let it go even if you have to go to the bathroom.”

“Wha—”

“You must promise that you’ll hold me if I lose my mind.”

Quinn stopped and smiled. “You have my word that I will do all those things.” She noticed then that Blake had begun to meet her eyes full on, no fidgeting, no quick glances, just an open, curious, and searching gaze.

“Shake my hand, seal the bond.” Blake reached out.

Quinn clasped it firmly. “So be it.”

*******

“Oh, Blake, if you saw this, you would shit.” Quinn searched for a stick to clear the cobwebs from the inside of the doorway. There was no light in the tool shed, and she could hear something scurrying around in the back of it. “Chuck, if you’re my buddy, you’ll go in there and get the grill.”

Chuck sat down and stared up at her with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

“The offer to stand guard over me while I do it isn’t what I wanted, but thanks.” Quinn picked up a stick and ran it around the entryway, then tossed it aside. She could barely make out the shape of the covered propane grill. She moved a couple of flowerpots out of the way, ran inside, and yanked the rolling cart into the yard.

“Please let the tank be full of propane.” She grunted as she dragged it to the small cement pad at the base of the steps leading to the porch. Fastidious Curtis had thoroughly cleaned it before he stored it away, and it only took a little wiping down before Quinn crossed her fingers and muttered a silent plea that she would not go up in flames. She turned the knob on the tank, then pressed the automatic igniter. A satisfying poof met her ears, and Quinn smiled. “Yes!” She closed the lid and left it to warm.

The potatoes had already been peeled, boiled, and drained. They were ready for Quinn to add her secret ingredients and whip them into potato salad. Baked beans were simmering in the oven, and the house smelled of bell pepper, onion, and the bacon she’d added along with a dab of brown sugar. All she had to do was take the chicken breasts that she’d boiled in seasonings from the stove, lay it on the grill, and smear it with her special homemade sauce.

“How’s it going?” Blake peeked into the kitchen.

“Great. Why aren’t you writing?”

“It smells too good, and it’s making my stomach growl. Can I help?”

“Yes.” Quinn pointed to all the bowls she had sitting on the counter. “Pour those into the potatoes and mix it all together when I’m done.” Quinn spooned in mayonnaise and some mustard and poured pickle juice into the bowl with the potatoes. “Whip ’em good. Take out your aggression and make them smooth and creamy.”

“I can do that,” Blake said as she moved around Quinn, occasionally putting a hand on her lower back to remind Quinn that she was behind her.

Quinn took the pot with the chicken from the stove and drained it in the sink, watching Blake as she worked on the potato salad. When they’d first met, Quinn thought Blake was one big train wreck of an individual, but her idiosyncrasies were becoming endearing, her personality a delight. Quinn liked her and didn’t bother to rebuff the growing attraction she felt for Blake. Quinn was not one to kid herself or employ denial. Fact was fact. The question was whether she could admit that to Blake or if she even should.

She’d caught Blake staring at her quite often. Blake had also grown touchy, not the “I’m using your hip bone as a ladder to escape a squirrel” sort of thing, either. Just little touches here and there that seemed more like affection. The hug they’d shared after Blake’s earlier triumph was energetic, but it too seemed warm. Quinn wondered if they were on the same page or if she was reading more into it than was wise. Regardless, come spring or possibly sooner, Blake had plans to leave.

“Has some part of you begun to enjoy country living?” Quinn asked.

Blake, with her back to Quinn, stopped what she was doing and looked over her shoulder. “I never dreamed I would say this, but yes. It’s nice to look out a window and see the grass and trees. Where you took me today was lovely, too.”

“I like the creek. I used to splash around in it during the summers. One day if you’re interested, I’d like to take you down to the Gulf. The water isn’t particularly pretty there, but the ride down is nice, and a walk on the beach is always serene.”

“I might like that,” Blake said as she returned to whipping the potatoes.

“The beans are ready. The chicken won’t take long.” Quinn picked up the tray and pushed the back door open with her foot. “You can join me if you’d like.”

Chuck was standing guard over the grill when Quinn walked out and opened the lid. “Don’t even think about it, buddy. I’ve seen the statues you left all over this yard. I’ll give you a biscuit later.”

“Or you can have one now.” Blake walked onto the porch and set the treat on the top step. Chuck rushed over, grabbed it, and took off. “You’re welcome,” Blake said with a laugh, then looked up into darkening skies. “Are those bats?”

Quinn glanced up. “Chimney swifts, we call them sweeps.” Quinn pointed to a creature flying erratically. “That’s a bat.”

Blake folded her arms and took a step back.

“I have never nor have I ever known anyone who was attacked by one,” Quinn said as she put the chicken on the grill. She smiled when Blake came to stand beside her. “I’m not embellishing when I say that it is
awesome
that you just walked out here.”

Blake stood close and stared at the night sky.

“What do you see?”

“Those damn chimney things…I lost a visual on the bat.”

“Look beyond them at the stars.”

“Is that what you do—look beyond the ugly and find the beauty?”

Quinn studied Blake’s profile. “That depends on what I’m looking at.” She was so busy watching Blake that she’d forgotten about the chicken. Flames hissed as they licked at it. “Oops,” she said as she grabbed it with the tongs and flipped the pieces over. “Light sauce on your chicken or sloppy good?”

“Make it sloppy,” Blake said with a laugh.