Color of Forgiveness (39 page)

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take care of it. I swear
you two are acting like third graders,” Jackie mumbles, shaking her
head. A loud crack of thunder sounds, causing both of the girls to
jump.

“Geez, that scared me to death,” Jackie says
in a breathy voice.

“Me too,” Myra agrees. “Guess there’s a
storm rolling in.”

They say their goodnights, and Myra slips
into her room and grabs her toothbrush. She hurries into the
bathroom, hoping to get done before Dylan comes upstairs. After
quickly brushing her teeth, she opens the door and peeks out in the
hallway. Seeing no one around, she quickly slips back into the
bedroom.

As she puts her toothbrush away, the room
lights up with lightning. Walking over to the window, she pulls
back the curtain and looks over at her house. It has quite the
Alfred Hitchcock creepy quality to it against the backdrop of the
stormy sky. As the rain starts and the lightning continues, her
eyes dart around scanning everywhere… the porch, the back of the
property where a couple of sheds sit, and around the garage,
looking for anyone that could be hiding or lurking in the
shadows.

See nothing out of the ordinary she glances
back at her house. Another loud peal of thunder rumbles, causing
her to jump slightly. Frowning, she leans closer to the window. The
curtains in her master bedroom are open. She looked out this exact
same window at her house last night and knows those curtains were
closed. She couldn’t have opened them herself because she didn’t go
into that room; she never goes into that room. She only uses the
spare bedroom as her room.

As she continues to stare at the window, she
decides that maybe the curtains
were
open yesterday, and
she’s just confused. Another bolt of lightning flashes across the
dark sky. She gasps, her eyes widening in terror when she sees a
dark shadow dart across the master bedroom window. Dropping the
curtain, she stumbles backward, grabbing at her pounding heart.

What was that?

No way could it have been a person because
it didn’t have the shape of a human. It was more like a small, dark
shadow. Almost like a black mass of some sort, and it was fast. No
human could move like that.

She drops down onto her bed, her chest
heaving. She’s seen shadows and movement out of the corner of her
eyes numerous times, but this was something totally different. She
saw something, and she has no idea what it was.

Another loud clap of thunder shakes the
house causing her to jerk and almost fall off the bed. She takes in
some deep breaths and tries to get her pounding heart to slow.
Kicking her shoes off, she climbs under the covers with her clothes
still on, and pulls them up to her chin. Her eyes dart to the door
when she hears what sounds like Dylan’s heavy boots coming up the
stairs, and she wishes so hard that he was coming upstairs to climb
into bed with her. She wants his strong arms wrapped around her so
badly she can hardly stand it.

She turns on her side, remembering what it
felt like to be in his arms, to feel so protected… and she wonders
if she’ll ever experience that feeling again.

* * *

“Here’s the bathroom,” Jackie says as she
flips the light on for Dylan. “Towels are there. Soap, shampoo and
everything else is in the shower if you want to take one. But,” she
says as she turns and looks at his chin, curling her lip up,
“
if
you shave, I expect you to clean it up. I don’t want any
nasty whiskers in my sink. And don’t just run the water for a
second. I want it
clean
.”

Dylan glares at her and doesn’t respond.

Jackie huffs and pushes past him, walking
briskly to a door and opening it. Dylan follows her. “Here’s your
bedroom. Myra is in the bedroom next to you down there,” she says
as she points down the hall. “Your dad is in this bedroom across
the hall from you, and I’m on the other end.”

He nods and steps into the room. “Hey,”
Jackie whispers, trying to get his attention. Reluctantly, he turns
around to face her. “I want to talk to you for a minute, but I’m
going to whisper because I don’t want Myra overhearing us. What
happened with you two? Did you do something really stupid
again?”

Dylan frowns. She hasn’t told Jackie?
“You’ll have to—”

“Shhhh!” Jackie hisses. “You really
are
stupid. Don’t talk so loud. Do you want her to hear
you?”

He lowers his voice, but no way is he
fucking whispering like a girl. “You’ll have to talk to her.”

“Well, whatever you did, you need to go
apologize to her. Get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness.
You don’t want to lose her, do you?”

His chest tightens. He
doesn’t
want
to lose her. The thought of losing her makes him physically hurt.
“No,” he mumbles.

“Well, she’s really hurting, and you need to
fix this. She loves you so much and I hate—”

“What?”

“I hate seeing her—”

“No. You said she… she loves me?” He can
barely breathe.

“Yes, you idiot, how did you not know that?
Of course she loves you. It’s so obvious. You can see it in
everything she does for you. The meals she cooks, how she almost
worried herself sick when you slept on the porch last night. The
way she sits around moping… just everything. Now hurry up and fix
it because even though I really don’t like you, I love Myra and I
want her to be happy. If that happens to be with
you
, I
guess I’ll have to accept it. Now, I’m off to bed. Good night.”
Dylan’s mouth hangs open as he watches Jackie skip off out the door
and down the hallway.

She loves me?

Slowly, he closes the door and leans against
it, his legs feeling weak, and his heart pounding. All of his
thoughts are consumed by the girl in the room next to him.

* * *

Myra looks at the clock again. She’s been
awake for hours. At least the storm didn’t last long and has
finally passed. Leaning over, she flips on the light and walks over
to Susie’s box. She pulls out the little dresses and socks again,
fingering the soft material. She picks up the tiny ballet slippers
and smiles. She takes them with her back to the bed and leans
against the headboard, pulling her knees up to her chest. She
dangles the tiny slippers off of her finger for a moment. Sitting
one on each knee, she just stares at them, marveling at how tiny
they are.

This is not the way she ever pictured
herself becoming a mother. Myra has always been a bit of a
traditionalist so she always saw herself having a small church
wedding and buying a house with a picket fence. Then after being
married for a few years, having a couple of kids, and living
happily ever after.

Yet here she sits pregnant and completely
alone with an old run-down house that has a ghost in it. She is
most definitely
not
living her happily ever after dream.

How can she be a mother when she barely had
a mother of her own? But she decides it doesn’t matter because her
experiences don’t figure into the equation. No matter what, she
is
going to be a mother, and this child deserves the
absolute best from her. No matter what happens with Dylan, she will
not allow her child to pay for the faults of its parents.

Tucking her fingers inside the slippers, she
picks them up, and scoots down on the bed until she’s lying flat.
She plays with the little shoes, rubbing her fingers along the tiny
rosebuds and feeling the soft satin against her fingertips. For a
moment, she closes her eyes and tries to picture a foot that size,
so small and tiny with little wriggling toes. Lifting the slippers
to her lips, she kisses them softly. Tears slip out of the corners
of her closed eyes, but these aren’t sad tears. These are tears
that a woman cries for an unborn child that is not yet known but
already loved.

Turning on her side, she holds tight to the
little slippers, snuggling them close to her cheek and closes her
eyes, hoping that sleep will hurry and come take her away.

* * *

“
Daaaaaaaaad!”

Dylan shoots up in bed, his heart pounding
as he hears a blood-curdling scream.

He lunges out of bed, getting caught up in
his sheets and trips and falls to his knees. “Goddamn it,” he
mumbles as he almost rips the sheets in half to get them off his
legs. He hears another scream just as he reaches the door and
flings it open. He runs down to the end of the hall and flings
Myra’s door open. He squints, temporarily blinded from the light
coming from the bedside lamp. Myra’s head is tossing back and forth
on the pillow.

“Myra, Myra, wake up,” he says sitting down
beside her and gently shaking her shoulders. “It’s just a
nightmare. Wake up.”

Her eyes snap open and she sits up. “Dad…
Where is he?” she asks breathlessly as she frantically looks around
the room.

Dylan swallows hard. “It was just a dream…”
he whispers in a soft voice.

“What the hell is going on?” Jackie shouts
as she stumbles into the room. “Myra? Are you all right?”

Dennis steps in the door behind her. “What’s
wrong?” he asks his voice groggy with sleep.

Myra’s frightened eyes meet Dylan’s for a
moment before she buries her face in chest. He wraps his arms
around her. “It’s okay,” he calls out to them. “She just had a
nightmare.”

“Are you sure?” Jackie asks. “Are you okay,
Myra?”

Myra nods as she shivers in his arms. “She’s
all right,” Dylan says. “Go back to bed.”

“All right… Well, if you need me, Myra, come
get me, okay?”

Jackie and Dennis leave, shutting the door
behind them.

Myra shudders in his arms again as he feels
the wetness of her tears on his bare chest. He holds her quietly,
rubbing her gently on the back. Closing his eyes, he inhales,
smelling that sweet fruity scent of hers that he finds so
intoxicating. She feels so good like this, in his arms, like she
belongs here. Even though it’s just been a few days, he can’t
believe how much he’s missed this, touching her, feeling her; it
feels like it’s been a goddamn lifetime.

After a few more minutes, she pushes on his
chest gently. Still keeping his arms around her, he looks down into
her eyes. They’re wide and full of tears, but still so damn
beautiful. He wants to kiss her tears away, kiss her beautiful face
and touch her full lips with his. He wants to tell her all the
things he feels inside his heart.

“Sorry,” she mumbles as she looks down at
his bare chest and starts to wipe the tears off.

Still keeping one arm around her, he grabs
her hand to stop her. “It’s all right. I—” He frowns, stopping
mid-sentence. He brings her hand up and stares in disbelief at the
pink baby shoe dangling from it.

A strange feeling of panic comes over him,
almost like the walls of the room are collapsing around him. A
tightness forms in his chest, and he feels like he can’t breathe.
“I gotta go,” he says in a strained voice as he drops her hand. He
stands and exits her bedroom as fast as he can.

Back in his room, he sits in the dark,
breathing hard, and trying desperately to not have another panic
attack. When he hears a soft knock on the door, he doesn’t open
it.

* * *

The next morning Myra’s heart sinks when
Dylan doesn’t show up for breakfast. She wants to apologize for the
baby shoes and try to explain what happened, but he won’t give her
a chance.

“Where’s Jackie?” Dennis asks.

“She had to go into the bookstore early this
morning.”

Dennis nods. “I want to apologize for my
son’s behavior. I’m really frustrated because I don’t know how to
help him. This kind of thing is just beyond me. He needs to talk to
a doctor, but he just gets really angry and defensive whenever I
mention it.”

Myra nods as her fingers play with a cracker
that sits on her plate.

“I’m going back to Boise tonight after we
work on your house today. Chad’s going to pick me up. I think we
can get quite a bit done before I leave. How long are you going to
stay with Jackie?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a few more
nights…?”

Dennis nods. “Have you heard anything from
Porter?”

“Yeah, nothing new…”

“Did you get ahold of your insurance agent
about your car?”

“Yeah, someone’s coming by this morning. Is
my car really that bad?”

Dennis nods a solemn look on his face. “It’s
pretty bad. Let me know when he shows up, and I’ll take him out to
the garage for you.”

Myra sighs and nods. She’s really thankful
for Dennis’s thoughtfulness because she definitely doesn’t want to
see it.

“Thanks for fixing this delicious breakfast,
Myra. Pack up Dylan’s plate, and I’ll make sure he eats it.”

Myra nods as she stands and picks up Dylan’s
plate. She remembers the panicked look on his face last night just
before he ran out of her room, and she just hopes and prays those
shoes didn’t do the damage that she thinks they did.

* * *

Dylan sits in his truck and smokes until he
sees Myra and Dennis leaving Jackie’s house. Myra makes eye contact
with him for a moment before they move inside and close the door.
He just couldn’t face Myra this morning. He didn’t sleep a wink
after he saw that damn baby shoe last night. It’s been fucking with
his head ever since. Why did she have that shoe already? They just
found out she’s pregnant so where the hell did that shoe come
from?

While finishing his cigarette, he pulls out
his phone and starts going through his voicemails. His box is
full.

He hits play when he sees a message from
Elaina.
“Dylan, this is Elaina. I haven’t heard from you to
reschedule your appointment. I hope everything’s okay. Call me when
you get a chance. Take care, mi querido.”

He deletes it. Even though his back has been
fucking killing him lately from working on Myra’s house and all the
stress he’s under, he won’t be leaving Myra for any reason.