Color of Forgiveness (44 page)

She slaps the turkey on the sandwiches and
smashes the bread on top of it.

Tossing all of the stuff back in the fridge,
she slams the door shut. Leaving his plate on the counter, she
grabs her plate with her sandwich on it and turns to him.

“Your mother wanted me to tell you
something,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Huh?” he grunts as he turns to stare down
at her.

“Since you won’t take their calls and all…”
she says, her eyes narrowing.

A guilty look crosses his face.

“She’s sending your new photo album with
Chad on Saturday.”

She feels a tiny bit of satisfaction when
she sees his eyes widen and his mouth drop open.

Her free hand goes to her hip. “So why
didn’t you tell me your house got broken into, huh?”

“It was no big deal,” he says with a shrugs.
“You’ve got enough to worry about.”

“It
is
a big deal. Here I thought
someone was just out to get
me
for some reason, but now that
you’re involved, it changes things.”

He climbs down the ladder. “You’re right. It
does change things. I called Porter today about Sabrina. I
should’ve done it sooner.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I talked to her the other day
and—”

“You talked to her?” she asks, her eyes
widening. “You talked to Sabrina, but you won’t talk to me?”

“
No
,” he says, reaching his hand out
towards her. “It wasn’t like that…”

Her eyes burn hotly as she feels tears begin
to form. She has to get away from him. Turning, she hurries down
the hallway, her shoulders hunched, her eyes on the floor.

“Myra, wait,” he calls out as she walks
faster. Just as she gets to the bottom stair, Dylan grabs her hand
and spins her around.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the
break-in. I didn’t want you worrying about any more shit than you
had to. All that was missing was my photo album and some clothes.
The only reason I took Sabrina’s phone call was because I wanted to
confront her about it. I know in the beginning, I didn’t think she
was capable of doing this shit, but now I’m not so sure. I was
going to ask Porter to look into her as a suspect, but he said he
already was. Someone questioned her this morning.”

Myra sniffs and wipes her eyes on her
sleeve.

“Don’t cry, please? I’m sorry I keep hurting
you. There’s just a lot of shit to deal with. The last few days
have been really fucked up and I keep messing up with you. I’m
still trying to figure out how to deal with the news of the baby,
and now all this shit with the break-ins. I’m trying here, but it’s
hard for me.”

Myra wipes at her eyes again. “I’m going
upstairs,” she mumbles.

When she gets to the top of the stairs, she
look back and sees Dylan still standing there looking up at her
with a pained expression on his face. She hurries down the hallway
to her bedroom, wiping tears from her face. Pulling out her phone,
she calls Susie and gets her voicemail.

“
This is Susie. I’m either too busy to
pick up, or I just don’t feel like talking to you right now. Can
you guess which one? Adios!”

“Call me,” Myra says to the recording before
she hangs up.

She paces back and forth in her bedroom,
wiping tears. She dials Susie’s number and gets her voicemail
again.

“Answer your phone,” she mumbles angrily
before throwing her phone on the bed. She slumps down onto it and
stares at her phone, praying that it rings soon.

* * *

Dylan steps outside through Myra’s back door
and pulls out a cigarette. Cupping his hand around it, he tries and
tries to get it lit but can’t because of the wind. “
Goddamn
it,”
he mutters under his breath.

Walking around to the side of Myra’s house,
he tries again and finally gets the smoke to light up. He walks
back around and sits on the back steps. He stares down at his
cigarette in his hand and wonders how the hell he always manages to
say and do the wrong things with Myra every fucking time. He knows
it probably wasn’t right to not tell her about the break-in, but he
didn’t want her worrying about it because he was concerned about
her and the safety of the baby. Then she had to find out from his
mother, making him look like he was hiding shit when he wasn’t.
Well, technically he
was
hiding shit, but his intentions
were good, damn it.

With a heavy sigh, he pulls out his phone.
He didn’t like the look on her face when she mentioned his family
and their neglected phone calls. He dials Chad.

“Bro? Shit, hang on,” Chad mumbles. He can
hear him yelling out instructions to his workers in the background.
“Dude… you finally fucking called. I know it’s because you didn’t
want that pretty ass of yours to have black and blue bruises on
it,” he says with a chuckle.

“Fuck you,” Dylan grumbles.

Chad cackles. “I love you too, bro. Dad told
us you were talking to that therapist again. That’s some good shit,
ya know? You need it, man. Stick with it.”

“I will,” Dylan reluctantly admits before
taking a drag on his cigarette.

“So has Porter figured out who did all this
break-in shit?”

“Possibly… he had someone in Boise question
Sabrina this morning, and he said she wasn’t too happy about
it.”

Chad chuckles. “I don’t mean to laugh, bro,
because this shit is
not
funny, but I bet she was fucking
pissed. I thought you didn’t think she was involved.”

“I didn’t until I talked to her. She said a
few things that kinda fucked with my head. Porter said she’s the
number one suspect right now.”

“Jesus. You really think she did it?”

“I don’t know. But I think it’s definitely
possible.”

“Fuck. That’s awful, dude.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Hey, I’m gonna come down Saturday morning,
and I’ll stay until Sunday night. Maybe we can work on Myra’s house
and get the rest of the shit done on it.”

“Yeah, I could use the help.”

“Good. Take ma’s calls, do you hear me, man?
She’s worrying about you.”

“I will.”

“All right, I gotta go. I’ll see ya
Saturday, okay, fucker?”

Dylan snorts as he hangs up his phone and
resumes his smoking.

* * *

When Myra’s phone rings, she grabs it and
almost drops it trying to flip it open.

“
Susie…
” she breathes.

“What’s up? Sorry I couldn’t answer. I was
in a stupid meeting. I only have a ten minute break so talk
fast.”

“There’s something wrong with me. Dylan got
drunk last night and slept in his truck so I stayed out there with
him. But then he got mad at me when all I was trying to do was make
sure he was safe. Then I found out that his house got broken into,
but he didn’t bother to tell me about it. And then all of a sudden,
I just got
so
mad at him. He’s not talking to his family
again and that made me even madder because he has the most amazing
family, and I have nobody. So we argued and I—”

“Myra?”

“What?”

“It’s called hormones, hon. Hellish
hormones. You know those baby shows on TV where they show the woman
having the perfect pregnancy and everyone is smiling and full of
joy and all things happy? That’s bullshit, big stinky piles of
bullshit. They edit the crap out of those shows. I want see a show
like
Bridezillas
only called
Pregzillas
. I can just
see it now…” she says dreamily. “The show starts with a Pregzilla
sitting on the couch crying over a Geico commercial with ice cream
dripping off of her double chin. She looks into the bottom of her
empty pint of Chunky Monkey and screams at her husband to go get
her some more or she’s going to remove his balls with her
spoon.

“The next scene shows him getting home with
the ice cream. She immediately starts shoving huge spoonful’s into
her mouth and starts screaming at him about how ugly and fat she
feels and that she knows he’s having an affair with the check-out
girl. Then the last scene cuts to her dragging the poor man into
the bedroom and stripping him naked and throwing his skinny ass on
the bed. That’s reality. So it’s normal, honey. Don’t worry if one
minute you want to suck Dylan’s balls, and the next you want to
puree them.”

“So it’s normal to be so irrational?”

“Yes, perfectly normal. Crap, I gotta go.
We’ll talk later, okay? Don’t worry about how you’re feeling, and
I’ve still not upgraded Dylan to sweet dick status yet. He’s still
a dickhead douchebrain, and it’s more than okay for you to be
honked off at him. Actually, it’s about time.”

“I don’t want to be mad at him, but I just
can’t seem to help myself.”

“I know. I’ll call you later. Bye.”

“Bye.” Myra closes her phone and stares at
her laptop lying on the bed next to her. Frowning, she picks it up
and Googles “pregnancy hormones” and is happy to learn that maybe
she’s not going crazy after all.

* * *

Dylan packs up his tools for the day. He
finally got Myra’s kitchen done. Now he just needs to work on
finishing up the bathroom remodel, which he and Chad should be able
to knock out this weekend. Walking into the living room, he looks
around for Myra, but doesn’t see her anywhere. Setting his tools
down, he climbs the staircase. Stepping up to her closed bedroom
door, he knocks softly. He hears some movement and a few moments
later, she opens the door. Her hair’s a mess, and she has pillow
creases on her face. She’s so beautiful that it knocks the breath
out of him. His mouth goes dry.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, running her fingers
through her hair. “I must have fallen asleep.”

Frowning, he clears his throat and shoves
his hands in his pockets. “I thought I’d call it quits for today.
Your kitchen’s done.”

“Thanks.”

He gives her a quick nod. “Are you gonna
stay here tonight or go back to Jackie’s?”

“I thought I’d stay one more night with her.
She’s going to Boise after work tomorrow and plans on staying there
for the weekend.”

“All right, I’ll just wait for you
downstairs.”

“Okay,” she says, giving him a nod before
she closes the door.

He scowls as he makes his way downstairs.
Things are so awkward between him and Myra. He knows he needs to
fix it, but he just doesn’t know how.

* * *

“Why don’t you come to Boise with me this
weekend?” Jackie asks. It’s late and they’re both in their pajamas,
sitting on Jackie’s bed. “I was talking to this woman that comes
into the bookstore all the time; she’s one of my best customers.
Anyway, she mentioned that I should ask you to go with me, and I
was like, ‘Duh, why didn’t I think of that?’ You’d be safe from
this whole scary stalker stuff that’s going on here, and Dylan
shouldn’t care since you two are broken up now. It’ll be so much
fun. I can show you the town, and you could go with me to look at a
couple of places for my new store. I’ve been looking online and
have a few spots that I want to check out that looked
promising.”

Myra frowns, wishing that Jackie wouldn’t
talk about her issues with strangers. For a moment, she considers
calling her out on it, but decides against it because she knows
Jackie can’t control her mouth. She takes in a deep breath. “I’d
love to come with you, but I just can’t leave right now.”

“Why not? That doesn’t make any sense. You
have a stalker after you, and you want to stay here and be a target
for them? That’s ridiculous. And why is Dylan still hanging around
protecting you if you two are broken up? He can’t protect you all
the time, you know that right?”

“I know,” Myra says with a sigh.

Jackie grabs a pillow and hugs it to her
chest. She lets out an exaggerated sigh. “You really frustrate me,
you know that? I wish you could talk to me. I hope you aren’t
waiting on something with Dylan that may never happen.”

Myra frowns. “Me too…” Myra whispers.

“Now, I’ve been doing some more thinking.
Have you ever thought about renting or selling Grampie’s house and
moving? I think you should with everything that’s going on. It’s
really too dangerous for you to stay here. I was thinking you could
move to Boise, and maybe we could get an apartment together. I know
you’re a writer and all, but I’d love to hire you. You could help
me get my shop up and running. We’d have so much fun together. What
do you think?” Jackie bounces up and down on the bed, jostling
Myra.

Myra stares at her for a moment before
taking in a deep breath. “I’m so honored that you asked me, I truly
am, and I know we’d have a lot of fun together, but I just can’t
leave Nyssa right now. I know it doesn’t make any sense with the
stalker and everything, but… I’m in love with Dylan. I’m still
hoping that somehow we can make things work so I just can’t leave
him now.”

Jackie sighs. “I understand. Although I
don’t understand what you see in him. I mean, the guy is all right
to look at, I’m not
that
stupid. But he’s just so
mean
all the time.”

Myra stifles a giggle when she remembers
Dylan calling Jackie mean last night. “Yeah, he is mean sometimes,
but he’s been through a lot in his life.”

“Well, we all have but that doesn’t mean we
have to act like big jackasses because of it.”

Myra smiles. “You’re right.”

Jackie yawns and stretches her arms above
her head.

“Well, I’m going to go to bed,” Myra tells
her. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

Jackie grabs Myra in a hug. “Sweet dreams,
Myra,” she whispers.

“You too…”

Myra walks down the hallway, her eyes glued
to Dylan’s bedroom door. They barely said two words to each other
during dinner with Jackie before he ran off outside to hide in his
truck again. He came back in about an hour later, and she’s not
seen him since.

Opening the door to Jackie’s spare bedroom,
she steps inside and stares at the curtains, covering the window.
If she pulls back those curtains like she did last night, what will
she see in that master bedroom? Are they open again or closed? She
decides that it doesn’t matter because there’s no way in hell she’s
opening those curtains and looking.