Perfectly Loved Page 5

  “She died.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Why was she asking whether she should be sorry?

  “Some mothers should be dead.” she shrugged. “But I guess yours was a good one. Yes, then I’m truly sorry.”

  “She died of cancer six years ago. And yes, she was a good mom.”

  “So, it’s just you and your dad?”

  “No, I have a twin brother. We’re fraternal. And a fourteen-year-old sister who’s a freshman at our school.”

  “Why haven’t you mentioned them before?”

  “Sometimes I’m not sure what I can say to you. I don’t want to push you away, Millie.”

  “Why?”

  “Maybe because I like you. You’re fun to hang out with.” I looked around the shack she called home. Would she freak out if I told her that I’d parked my dad’s car outside at night to make sure she was all right? “I just wish we could hang out other places.”

  “Like where?”

  “My house. Go to the movies.”

  “Hey, if you can sneak me in, I’m all for the movies. I haven’t been in ages.”

  “I’d pay for your ticket.”

  “I don— ”

  “—Don’t argue that you don’t need charity.”

  Her mouth curved up.

  “Yes, I’ve known you for a week, and I already know you better than you think. I’d pay for it because I’m a friend. And friends do nice things for friends.”

  “Friend…” she repeated, leaning her head to the side. Has she not had any friends before?

  “That scratch looks infected.” I pointed to her arm.

  “So your father is taking care of all of you?” She changed the subject.

  “He’s a forensic pathologist. And yes, he is. He’s a good man and doesn’t mind guests for dinner. Inside the house.”

  She was thinking it over in her head.

  “In fact, I’m sure he has an ointment for lesions.”

  “You’re making me sound like a zombie.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

  “Hey!”

  “I’m teasing, Millie. But seriously, come for a proper dinner at a table. Meet my family. I’m sure the Savages won’t look for you there.”

  She laughed. “Ouch.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “My ribs hurt when I laugh.”

  “That’s it. You’re coming over, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  She thought for another moment before giving in. “Well, I’m definitely not going to their house until things blow over. I’d like to stay at this school. You’re… you’re the first friend who’s been nice to me.”

  “Aha, so you admit I’m your friend.”

  “Yeah, I do. What about this? Is it really bad? Your family will freak out.” She pointed to her eye.

  I waved my hand, “Can’t even notice it.”

  “Liar. But thank you.” She paused for a moment and then gave me the most grateful look I had seen. “For trying so hard. For everything.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  When we got home, my younger sister April took it upon herself to give Millie the tour of our small house. The girls got along right from the first hello. As I helped my father with dinner, I answered some questions about our guest.

  “Dad, she’s living at the Savage house.”

  “Wasn’t the police department trying to close them down?”

  “They should. I don’t think she’s been treated well. She doesn’t want to go back. But you can’t say anything because then they’ll move her to another house, and who knows how that one will be, and then I won’t be able to help her at all. I don’t want her sleeping at that abandoned house, but I don’t think that she’ll listen to me.”

  He looked at me knowingly, already aware of what I was asking. If he knew that she meant something more to me than I realized at the time, he didn’t say anything. My father would not abandon her either.

  “All right, let me see what I can do. I’m assuming that’s where you’ve been going at night? To see her?”

  “She doesn’t know. I wanted to make sure she was safe.”

  “What about the black eye?”

  “Misunderstanding at school.”

  “I hope you stood up for her.”

  “Of course. But she’s feisty.”

  I grated the mozzarella, thinking about Millie in ways I wasn’t yet willing to admit to anyone. Yes, we were friends, but was there more between us? I liked her a lot. I wanted to spend time with her, but I also grew more curious about her as a girl. What were her hobbies? How about her favorite color? What style of sweater would she pick if she were given a choice? I knew she pretty much liked to eat whatever she could get her hands on, but what if she had a choice between chicken soup and minestrone? Which one would it be? How would she look in a dress? Was her skin as pale as her face?

  When the girls came downstairs, I barely recognized Millie. Her hair wasn’t clumped together, her face was brighter than it was this afternoon, and her nails were nicely clipped. How in the world was April able to get her to take a shower? She was also wearing one of April’s t-shirts and newer jeans. I saw April trash the clothes Millie wore to school when Millie wasn’t looking. My sister put her finger to her lips and mouthed, “Shh.”

  I winked her way. If I were to guess, within a few days, April would enjoy giving Millie a full makeover.

  We carried on with dinner as usual. Millie kept sneaking looks at me. I caught her a couple of times, and she blushed. It made me feel good. Actually, better than good. It made me feel amazing. I even heard a chuckle out of her. It had probably been some time since she’d laughed or felt safe enough to express herself. What was her story? What had happened to her parents? She said her mother wasn’t a good one. What about her father?

  “Millie, you’re more than welcome to stay the night,” my father at one point announced. I guessed there was no beating around the bush. Everyone in the neighborhood knew the kind of family the Savages were. And I didn’t want to spend another night sleeping in dad’s car. Millie’s gaze flew to me, and I felt my eyes begging her to agree.

  She did. And that was the first night of many that Millie Carlton would spend at our house.

  Chapter 5

  Millie

  “Momma, I miss Grandpa and Grandma.”

  “Me too, honey.”

  “Can we visit?”

  “Not now.”

  “Why?”

  “They live far, far away, honey.”

  “I can help get bus money. I can ask people, the way you do. Sometimes they give you money.”

  “Grandpa and Grandma don’t want us to visit.”

  I felt my tears fall. They didn’t love us anymore? I missed our old home. It was warm, and my stomach never hurt there.

  “But…”

  “…No buts. They don’t need us, and we don’t need them. You should be grateful for what you have.” Momma was getting upset. She wasn’t as patient these days as she used to be, so I stopped asking her so many questions.

  Maybe Momma was right? I had Casper, and a corner of a sofa in our new trailer where I slept. Well, it wasn’t new, exactly, but it had a roof and the window wasn’t broken and the rain and snow didn’t fall through like in the last one. And it was more comfortable than the crate on the sidewalk — although that did have warm air flowing through. Yesterday momma unwrapped a piece of burger for me. It was better than Christmas morning. Yes, I should have been grateful for what I had.

  “I’m sorry, Momma.”

  Present time

  His arms wrapped around me from behind, stretching over mine, pointing the gun in my hands forward and keeping me steady.

  “Don’t forget to breathe, Millie,” he whispered into my ear. His body against mine felt hot and familiar, and I wondered whether he’d brought me here on purpose. Not that I minded. While I’d vowed to stay away from Dave, we seemed to be drawn to each other all
the time. And I couldn’t deny that I enjoyed it. Of course I did. It was Dave, and any time I was close to him, the delightful drumming in my chest roared, making me excited and nervous at the same time.

  “What if I miss?” I asked.

  “Then you try again.”

  “Okay.”

  Focusing ahead, I steadied my breathing and finally pressed my finger to the trigger. The shot’s energy forced my body deeper into his. None of the three cans on the log, about fifty feet away, moved. I let out an exasperated sigh and tried to lower my arms, but Dave kept them in place.

  “Again,”

  “I can’t. It scares the birds and the animals.” I was whining, and I definitely wasn’t a whiner. What was wrong with me? Having him so close behind me messed with my brain.

  “There aren’t any animals here.”

  “This isn’t natural,” I argued.

  “Neither is naked yoga.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know that they haven’t found any cave paintings of Neanderthals bending over while naked so they could stretch.”

  “That’s not a good argument.”

  “Neither is yours. Now shoot.”

  I pulled the trigger again and missed for the second time. The shot echoed through the valley.

  “How far does that bullet go?” I asked.

  “Just over a mile.”

  “What if it hits a deer?”

  “Millie, see all the trees there?” He pointed ahead. “The bullet will hit a tree way before it hits a deer. Now if you concentrate and shoot the can, that’s where it will stop, and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

  “Can we go now?” I asked.

  “Not until you hit the target.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s better than thinking about Savage.”

  Savage. Right. That’s why he’d brought me here. Truthfully, I hadn’t thought about the bastard since we left the city.

  “And if you hit it, we can stop.”

  Dave slowly let go of my hands. With my feet grounded and slightly apart, I held the gun steady, aimed at the target, and concentrated even more than before. The sounds around me faded into a unanimous hum. My peripheral vision blurred; it was just the can and me. Me and the piece of aluminum.

  I am the bullet. I will hit that piece of loitering metal.

  That was it. It’d be better for the environment if I hit it and trashed it into a recycling bin. Let it break apart before it succumbed to the melting heat at the waste plant.

  I pulled the trigger, and a loud bang ricocheted through the forest, taking down one of the three cans.

  “Yeah, baby!” I screamed, jumping up and down. The echo of my shot came back and I covered my ears instinctively before resuming my victory celebration.

  “Millie! Lower the gun, for Pete’s sake!”

  I looked above my head, where I’d been swinging the pistol left and right. Was that why Dave had been ducking?

  “Oops, sorry.”

  “You got it, Millie! You really got it. And I was thinking that we’d be stuck here all day.”

  I wondered whether I should tell him that I’d been aiming at the one on the opposite end of the log, but that would mean that he’d make me shoot again.

  “I was born to shoot.”

  “Just like I was born to do naked yoga.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t stop my insides from shaking. The image of Dave doing naked yoga was definitely a new one, and now I couldn’t get it out of my head. I promised myself that one day, I’d make him do it. If I couldn’t make him, then I’d trick him into joining me for a class. Wait… could I stand seeing him naked next to me? Stretching and bending over to show his muscles and that giant…

  Don’t look at his crotch, Millie. Just don’t.

  “You did good, sweets.” He brought my attention back, popping a mint into his mouth.

  “Ahm, thanks. What’s next?”

  “I didn’t make any other plans. I wasn’t exactly expecting you to hit it so quickly.”

  “You have no faith in me?”

  He stepped closer and grasped me by my hips, tugging me closer to him.

  “If I had no faith in you, baby, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  Wait, what did he mean by that? The world around us disappeared as our gazes locked. There it was. That mistake I’d been praying not to make by looking deep into those green gems. The lonely part of me that missed him with every tightening muscle in my body wanted to forget everything around me. I wanted our pasts, especially mine, to be erased and never remembered again. I craved to have that naive innocence back, where the idea of a future, as a real family, was still a promising one. But it wouldn’t happen. I was bad news for Dave, and unfortunately, when we were together, trouble followed. I couldn’t take that chance right now. God only knew what Savage had planned for me now.

  I cleared my throat, saying, “We’re not far away from Mrs. Bowers. We should check in on her.” I pulled away from him, and he let go of my hips. Disappointed, I turned away and started heading for the car.

  “She probably needs groceries for Thanksgiving, too,” I called back.

  Since her husband’s death, we’d visited Mrs. Bowers a few times a year and always invited her for the holidays, even though each time she declined. When I was introduced to her the first Christmas, she scared me. Each year she looked as old as the first and seemed grumpier. And that made me like her a lot more than I’d ever admit to her, because that woman was so witty and funny — even when she bugged me.

  We’d spend most of our summers at the cabin, helping her prepare for the colder months. The boys would chop wood, we’d tend to chores, and I built an organic vegetable garden with April. Mr. Mayers connected a rain barrel to the downspouts, which we hooked up to the garden. I wasn’t sure how the family had come to be friends with her — probably because her home was the closest to the cabin — but now, I was glad they had. At least I had a place to escape to. A sad place at the moment, but one full of many fond memories.

  “Sounds good,” Dave said from behind me. I couldn’t get away from him for more than a moment. Did I want to? No, of course I didn’t. Despite our differing opinions, I wouldn’t stop believing that we were friends, and friends should be able to spend time together.

  That’s right. I am Dave’s friend. No less and no more.

  Feeling a new jab of energy flow through me, and much more like my old self, I hopped toward the car. Dave remained quiet as we headed back to the local market, but the closer we got to the store, the more I saw his mouth curve up. Was it because of where we were heading? Mrs. Bowers’ home meant so much to both of us that I was beginning to fear being there, together, would revive too many memories.

  At the store, we picked up a frozen turkey, an apple pie, and other supplies before returning down the road to visit the old lady I sometimes thought of as a witch. As Dave turned left at the fork in the road, I looked the other way, where we’d come from earlier, and once again I had a déjà vu moment.

  “This is creepy.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. But I swear that road is familiar.”

  “You saw it for years when we drove here.”

  But I’d never paid so much attention to it. Why now? I could swear it was calling out my name.

  Shivers sprinkled my arms, so I turned up the heat in the car. Maybe Dave was right. Perhaps it was because I’d come this way so many times before that it all looked familiar.

  We pulled over to the log house. Mrs. Bowers was sitting on the porch swing with Dorothy, her new cat, in her lap. The kitty had wandered to her house one day and stayed. Mrs. Bowers was petting her continuously. The queen had her eyes closed and seemed to enjoy each time her owner’s hand swept across her head and over her arching back.

  It had been almost a year since I’d seen her. Maybe I should have come in the spring with April, just to say goodbye in case she dropped dead. But I couldn
’t. The wounds from my breakup with Dave had still been too fresh last spring. Since seeing her on the day of Christmas Eve had caused me to get mushy and sad about being on my own for the rest of my life and inevitably reunited me with Dave, I had decided to avoid this place for the most part.

  As soon as I stepped out of the car, Mrs. Bowers got that wicked look in her eyes – after I saw a rare smile on her face. Was it possible that she was actually happy to see us?

  “Are you two eloping and came to get a witness?” she teased.

  “Hell hasn’t frozen over yet,” I said.

  “Not yet, but it will. I’ve been praying for it each night.”

  That’s right. Mrs. Bowers was also the biggest supporter of the “Dave and Millie forever and ever” campaign.

  “How are you feeling? How’s the back?” I asked.

  Dave propped the door open with a bucket before unloading the car.

  “Still keeping me up at night but so is the shoulder, and the knee, and the head. Want me to keep going?”

  “No, it’s okay. When was the last time you saw a doctor?” As I questioned her, Dave brought in the groceries and started unpacking them. He gave me a weird look. Yeah, yeah, I was being nicer to Mrs. Bowers than usual, but the woman lived alone and in misery every day. A little bit of ‘Millie sunshine’ wouldn’t hurt.

  “Around Easter.” She coughed into her hand. Dorothy freaked and jumped off her lap.

  I lowered my hands to my hips. “Which year?”

  “Now that’s a good question to ask my doctor.” She coughed again. Jesus, she sounded like she was ready spit out a lung or two.

  “Mrs. Bowers, you know you can’t skip your checkups.”

  “I did, and I will. There’s no point in him telling me I’m getting old. I already am old. If he can’t get that right, than how can I trust him with anything else?”

  “He’s just trying to be nice.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being honest. Like you, Millie. You always tell it like it is. It’s what I like about you.”

  Why was she being nice to me?

  “You’re right. Maybe hell is freezing over.” I sighed. “But that cough doesn’t sound good.”