Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series (8 page)

Once I was sure we were alone, I opened the
door and looked around.

“They’re gone.”

“Thank God!” he stood, stretched his long
legs, and jumped to the floor. “I was sure I’d fall in.”

“That was . . . educational.”

“That was awful.” He blushed.

“Those girls are too young to be thinking
about such adult things. I wish I knew their mothers.” I shook my
head.

“
When you find them, leave me out of
it, alright?” He lit a cigarette.

I talked while he smoked, afraid to leave
him alone. He thanked me for the hiding place and I apologized for
almost giving it away. He accepted, with one condition: I had to go
to the movies with him. I was reluctant at first, thinking, hoping
he wouldn’t be so bold as to take me to one of his movies. He
laughed when I asked if that was the case.

“Do you really think I would subject you to
such torture?”

It was the least I could do for the stranger
who brought me my precious trinket, so I agreed. The only condition
I made was paying for the tickets, since he bought lunch. I offered
to drive, since his friend had dropped him off. But I needed to
swing by my house to change my clothes and put on some make-up.
Walking around with someone so recognizable made me self-conscious.
Not to mention I was severely underdressed. Mostly, though, I
wanted to show Noah I was okay. And have him download the pictures
from the phone.

“So, I guess, it’s a date?”

“Not a date.” I shook my head, reluctantly
grinning. Evan seemed to possess a unique ability to drag a smile
out of me.

Fear. Four short letters for something so
crippling.

Facing death isn’t the scary part. In
the many moments I’ve spent pondering what it must be like to die,
I’ve never considered the act more than simply going to sleep. It’s
the happening; the potential events leading to it that terrify me.
I’d prefer fast and painless—faster than asphyxia or drowning.
Once, I choked on a meatball when I was at home all by myself. A
complete airway obstruction. I couldn’t breathe and nothing else
mattered when that next breath couldn’t come. Inhaling reflexively,
I remember the feeling of knocking my abdomen against the counter
top until I threw up. I don’t much care for being beaten to death,
either, and I’m in no condition to put up much of a fight without
risking him. And I will
not
risk him.

While praying for help, I am crushed
by guilt for my trespasses. Mistakes I’ve made flash before me. My
erroneous behavior that resulted in the video, my poor judgment,
the petty thoughts and jealousies. My fights with Lily and
Noah.
What would Noah do without me?
Neglecting Evan—I had so many chances to tell him and didn’t.
I lectured him about honesty and withheld my own truth—which is no
different than lying.

Oh, God, I’m sorry. I need help. I will die
someday and when that time comes I’ll be ready, but not tonight,
Lord. Please. Not like this. Protect me. Open my eyes to see a way
out. Help me think through the confusion. Tell me what to do.

I think over the desperate prayer and
realize I’ve neglected the most important part.

This is what I want, but You know better.
So, let Your will be done.

I withhold the Amen, knowing I’m nowhere
near finished.

When I blink, my lashes no longer press
against anything. The blindfold seems to have slipped down over my
nose, not all the way, but enough to see. It’s still dark, but
there’s a shape to the darkness. A hysterical cry wants to escape,
but something tells me I should avoid making unnecessary noise. I
can tell through the trace amounts of dim light that filter through
the edges I am inside a trunk, but not the kind I thought. It has
sharp corners and a lid like a rectangular storage box. Where it
has—I have—been stashed, I have no idea, but I know I’m travelling.
I feel the twists and turns and hear the constant drone of an
engine. There’s also a muffled racket that sounds like it might be…
rap music?

With a jolt my smooth ride becomes rough. A
jagged pinging noise sounds from below as the swaying motion of
turns becomes more frequent, near constant. We must be close to
wherever we’re heading.

As I think it, the motion of the car drags
to a halt.

So does my heart.

Listening intently for any sign of my
impending demise, my senses seem to sharpen. There’s a muffled thud
that sounds like a door. Silence. Waiting. Everything is dreadfully
quiet. I can actually hear the stillness. Even my thoughts are a
whisper, barely intelligible over the buzz in my ears.

The fear of whatever’s coming has me
imagining I’m someplace remote, probably a nearby beach or
lake.

One of my earliest memories is of my big
brother and me sneaking into a neighbor’s swimming pool. He was
going to teach me how to dog paddle. I can see little Ronnie, no
more than five or six himself—which puts me between two and
three—standing neck-deep in the shallow end, urging me into the
water. He told me to wade in carefully. I leapt. I remember the
terror when my feet couldn’t find the bottom.

The car’s moving again. My head throbs,
repeatedly knocking against the wall of my container. Wherever
we’re heading, it isn’t on a paved road.

I try, once again, to loosen my restraints.
Beyond self-defense and running, I have no plan. There’s not enough
definitive information.

That day in the pool with Ronnie, I was sure
to drown, but the neighbor heard us splashing. He ran outside and
pulled me out of the water by my hair.

While half of me dives into survival mode,
the other keeps praying for clear, concise, signs. The constant
motion pulls. I think it means we’re slowing again. I nod and press
my cheek against the sidewall, working the cloth back up over my
eyes, stopping when I can no longer see.

My feet. I’m not sure if they’re bound, but
I can’t move them.

Amid the worry, a great sense of clarity
comes, blanketing my fear. It says I need to be still. I cannot
run, so I must be dead. It feels foolish, the complete opposite of
what I want, but I repeat my earlier movements in reverse, settling
into my original position. Then, close my eyes under the blindfold
and wait. The air is stifling. Sweat beads against my skin. I’m
stuck. Until the box is open—and I have to believe it will be—I
need to be calm.

God, help me. If I sweat or
breathe we’re dead
.

Working to control my gasping breaths, I
slowly inhale and gradually exhale until my heart rate begins to
slow. The familiar pressure in my head ebbs, though the pain of the
blow is prominent. I force each muscle group to relax, calling to
each individually, willing them to rest. I must look flaccid.

I hope she doesn’t check for a pulse.
There’s no way I can fake that. I take one, concentrated breath and
let it out slowly, counting backwards from twenty, determining that
when I get to zero I’m going to be calm—no matter what.

20, 19, 18…

Worst case scenario: we’re dead. My heart
breaks at the thought of not seeing my boys grow up, but I can see
Solomon and my parents again. Lily will get the boys and the
houses. She’ll tell Evan that I loved him until I took my last
breath. God is sovereign enough to care for them in my stead. Best
case: we make it out together. My arm strokes my pregnant belly.
The only acceptable scenario is that we get out together—all or
nothing.

The pain subsides a little, though the ride
is really bumpy. I can’t tell how far or fast we’re going, only
that it’s off road. And towards a spot where I have no help and no
control.

Merciful dizziness descends, disconnecting
me from my body. I thank God, as my eyes roll into nothing.

October 10.5

By the time the tires hit the stone driveway
I was a ball of nerves, wondering about Maria and dreading the
possibility of an embarrassing outburst.

“Nice yard,” Evan remarked in his cool,
swoony accent.

A weak “Thank you,” was all I managed.
Normally, I’d brag a little since I did most of the landscaping
myself, but the aching in my stomach was distracting.

I led the way up the path. Halfway to the
porch, my feet suddenly felt like lead. Evan crashed into my back.
His hands flew up to my shoulders as he steadied himself.

He chuckled when I turned. “You stopped
short.”

“
I should warn you. My mother-in-law .
. . well, Sol’s mother, is probably inside.”

“Do you need back up, in case a fight breaks
out?” He jumped around with fists in the air, guarding his face
like a boxer.

“You may not be far off.”

He looked passed me at the front door and
the sunshine hit him in a way that made me want to reach out and
touch him, but I kept my hands at my side. He was beautiful. And
his eyes were not brown like I thought when I first saw him in the
elevator, like they seemed beneath the track lighting of the
museum. His eyes were blue and green with large golden flecks in
them. Evan had hazel eyes. His brow furrowed, blocking the delicate
sun and darkening his features.

“Would you like me to wait in the car?”

“No,” I scoffed. The very idea that I’d have
to walk on eggshells in my own house—though I had for many years
already—was suddenly insufferable. “I just never know what to
expect from her,” I explained. “Oh, and my sister-in-law, Lily,
she’ll probably recognize you, so be prepared.”

“
Right. Either a slap or a kiss.” His
face held a look of deep concentration, which gave way to an easy
smile as he shook out his arms, pretending to loosen the muscles. I
had no choice but to smile back.

Evan took a spot on the sofa in the formal
living room while I continued towards the kitchen, the most likely
place to find someone. I rounded the corner, passed through the
vacant family room, and peeked into the kitchen. Lily was leaning
into the open fridge. Several empty plates sat on the counter
behind her. I guessed she was aiming for an early dinner of
leftovers.

“Hey, girl!”

She jumped, tossing the Tupperware high into
the air and swearing. With a quick flick of her hands, Lily caught
the plastic tub before it hit the ground.

“
Good catch.”

She fumbled the food onto the counter.
“Really nice, Grace.”

“It was, wasn’t it?”

She looked irritated for the slightest
moment; then it was gone, replaced with more surprise. “How was the
museum?”

“Good, actually. Remember how I lost my
phone?”

“He found you!” She sighed in relief.

“How did you know?”

“He called and Mom told him where you
were.”

“Oh.” I put my fingertip to my lips.

“She’s not here. Been gone since
three-thirty.”

“In that case, there’s someone I want you to
meet.” I turned, waving for her to follow.

Evan was resting his head on the back of the
couch. His eyes were closed. I clomped my feet a little louder than
necessary over the tiles. He opened his eyes, which appeared brown
in the soft living room light and lifted his head.

“The coast is clear. She left an hour ago.”
I looked back to make the introductions, but Lily wasn’t there.

He smiled, standing. “Would that be during
or after I was stuck, hovering over a public toilet?”

The image of him sweating and squatting made
me crack up. My stomach clenched so tightly, I had to bend to
alleviate it. Evan laughed just as heartily, his volume increasing
when I snorted.

“What happened?” Lily bolted through the
entry, smiling curiously.

My brain registered her presence, but I
couldn’t react. I was struggling for breath. He was perched over
that toilet like a bird over a nest of snakes. My eyes blurred at
the comical imagery.

Evan gained composure before I did. “Hi.” He
waved with a subdued smile and Lily’s jaw dropped.

I took several controlled breaths—my sides
hurt, my cheeks ached. It was wonderful—I wiped my eyes and
introduced Evan, my new friend, to Lily, my oldest and dearest.

“Well, you’re a pile of gorgeous aren’t you?
It’s nice to meet you, Lily.” His attractive pronunciations chimed
sweetly as he presented his hand for her to shake, but she was
frozen. “We were in the lift… er, elevator together. I found the
phone.”

She was frozen, wide-eyed and
speechless.

“Earth to Lily.” I waved my hand over her
eyes.

She blinked. “You’re Rhys Matthews! Grace!
You were in an elevator with Rhys Matthews?” Her focus shifted to
me and back to Evan, her volume increasing. “Grace! You spent half
the afternoon with Rhys Matthews?”

“He told me his name was Ev—”

“I am such a huge fan! So happy to meet
you!”

She leapt at him, grabbing his hand and
pulling him into an unexpected hug. Suddenly she was jumping up and
down. I could not stop giggling—again, falling into full and free
laughter when Evan started jumping with her. Lily never got excited
like that. Over anything. Not even Dior sales at Saks.

The noise must have grabbed the kids’
attention. Caleb wandered in and started laughing because we were,
and Noah just watched, standing behind his brother, a smile peeking
through his pursed lips. After we calmed down, I introduced them to
Evan and he regaled everyone with the story of our bathroom
adventure.

Noah seemed to enjoy my high spirits more
than the story itself and it pierced my heart. I’d have to make
additional efforts to be more even keeled.

I showed Evan to the couch in the family
room and asked him to wait. He chose a seat on the fluffy, navy
blue couch monster as the kids disappeared into their rooms,
totally unimpressed. Lily had agreed to watch the boys for me—I
don’t think there was a chance that she’d say no—so I set off to
get ready for the movie.