Color of Forgiveness (45 page)

Slipping under the covers, she opens her
laptop and decides to try to do a bit of writing. But instead, all
she can do is think about the gruff man in the bedroom next to hers
and contemplate how strange it is that he’s so close, but still so
far away from her. She misses him desperately and realizes that
she’s never felt lonelier in her whole life.

* * *

Dylan groans, his eyes shut tight, as his
hand gropes on the bedside table for his phone. His fingers finally
find it and he angrily grabs it and turns the alarm off. It feels
like he just fell asleep five minutes ago. He was up most of the
night tossing and turning and worrying about how to fix this shitty
mess with Myra. That was after he’d spent who knows how long
standing outside her bedroom door, debating whether or not to just
go inside and slip into bed with her. He finally just went back to
his room.

Stretching, he scratches a spot on his
stomach before he slowly climbs out of bed and grabs his jeans off
of the bedroom floor, tugging them on. He digs a clean T-shirt out
of his bag and throws a flannel on over top of it. Picking up his
bag, he steps out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. After
brushing his teeth, he runs his hand over his face. He really needs
to shave, but he just doesn’t feel like it. He groans when he sees
the state of his hair. Opening his bag, he pulls out a baseball cap
and shoves it on.

Walking downstairs, he drops his bag by the
door. The smell of breakfast cooking hits him as he hears voices
coming from the kitchen. He slowly walks down the hallway.

“… but I’m thinking more along the lines of…
Oh. Dylan,” Jackie says, a look of dislike crossing her face. She
stands, picking up her plate. “Well, I was done anyway. Dylan, I’m
going to Boise this weekend. Can you help me pack up my car when I
get home from work tonight? I want to start taking boxes back. I’ll
be home by five or five-thirty.”

Dylan nods.

“Okay. Thanks.” She turns to Myra and gives
her a quick hug. “I need to head off to work. I’ll see you
tonight.”

Dylan sits down at the table as Jackie walks
out of the kitchen. Myra sets a plate of pancakes and a cup of
coffee in front of him. “Thanks,” he says in a quiet voice. Myra
gives him a tight smile and nods.

He clears his throat. “I’m gonna tear out
your bathtub today. Chad’s coming in the morning so we’ll get your
new one installed tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He nods and grabs the syrup but by the time
he looks back up, Myra has disappeared from the kitchen.

* * *

Myra stares at her laptop and sighs loudly.
She’s read the last paragraph that she wrote about a dozen times,
and she can’t seem to come up with a single solitary word to add to
it. With an annoyed huff, she closes her computer and lays it
beside her on the bed. Her phone rings.

“Hey.”

“So how are you enduring hormone hell?”
Susie asks.

“I’m a little better. I don’t seem to be as
mad at him as I was.”

“Ah, that’s too bad. I really liked hearing
you be all pissy at him. Has he talked to you anymore?”

“Not really. We’ve barely spoken. Things are
just weird.”

“I still think you need to leave his ass for
a while. Give him a wakeup call.”

“Jackie asked me to go to Boise with her
this weekend.”

“Really? You should go. It’d get you away
from the stalker
and
away from douchey face.”

“I thought about it, but I just can’t.”

“Why am I not surprised? You sound really
down in the dumps so I have a little story that will brighten your
day. Last night, I washed the boy’s sheets because they were nasty
and crusty. So I hauled them upstairs while the boys stayed
downstairs with Jeff. I went into Tucker’s room first, and I bent
over to put the fitted sheet on the mattress when I was suddenly
goosed from behind. Now this wasn’t your typical pinch to the ass,
or some mere gropage. Nope. This was a full-on fingers straight to
the spot that only sees dick and the occasional tampon.”

Myra giggles.

“I screamed in terror because I didn’t even
remotely hear Jeff sneak up behind me to begin with, and I jerked
straight up because of where he goosed me at. I never knew that
spot was so sensitive. Anyway, I jerked and stumbled backwards, and
my foot got caught in Tucker’s backpack. I was standing there doing
circles with my arms trying like hell to grasp at something
invisible in the air, when I fell flat on my back. I fell so hard
that I should’ve set off at least a 5.0 earthquake, and I ended up
with my legs flopped straight up in the air. I swear to god, it was
like some of that cornball shit you’d see in a
Home Alone
movie.”

“That’s hilarious,” Myra says, still
giggling.

“Yeah, it was hilarious all right. At least
Jeff thought it was. He fell out, and I do mean literally fell out.
He fell onto Tucker’s bed, holding his gut, tears streaming out of
the corner of his eyes, that fucking jackass. And then I couldn’t
get up. I could not get my fat ass up off of that floor. So I had
to wait until that idiot stopped laughing so he could give me a
hand and pull me up.

“Now, you know that moron has been married
to me for ten years so he should know better than to try to pull a
stunt like that on me. Jeffypoo is in deep doodoo, up to his
eyeballs in de doodoo.”

Myra giggles and wipes tears from her
eyes.

“I knew that mental visual of me falling
flat on my ass with my feet straight up in the air would cheer you
up. Well, honey, I gotta run. I’ll call you later. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Myra lays her phone on the bed. The visual
of Susie on her back pops into her head again, causing her to laugh
so hard that she falls over on the bed and has to grab her
stomach.

* * *

Dylan takes off his ball cap and wipes his
forehead on his sleeve. He’s had a hell of a time trying to get
Myra’s old cast iron bathtub ripped out. He’s had to bust it into
pieces and carry the heavy shit downstairs and outside to the
dumpster. It’s kicking his ass, and killing his back.

Finally, he takes off his flannel shirt and
wipes his face with it. He startles slightly when Myra calls his
name from behind him. He turns to face her.

“I made you some lunch. I left it downstairs
on the table.”

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.”

Myra just stands there staring at him for a
few minutes. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, not knowing
what the hell to say to her.

“All right, well, I’ll just be in my room,”
she says.

He nods and stands up, following her out
into the hallway. She shyly looks up at him, giving him a quick
smile which he returns before she goes into her bedroom and closes
the door.

Sighing, he runs his hand over his jaw. He
stares at her door for a long time before he finally turns back to
his work.

* * *

“Do you have everything you wanted to take?”
Myra asks as she peeks inside Jackie’s car filled to the brim with
boxes.

“No. I’ve got everything that would
fit
,” Jackie says. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with
me? I’ll dump the boxes out of the front seat just for you.”

“No,” Myra says, smiling as she hugs Jackie.
“Be careful on the roads and call me as soon as you get there.”

“I will. I’ll be back Sunday night.”

Myra nods.

“Oh. I almost forgot,” Jackie says as she
pulls a key from her pocket. “Here’s a spare key for emergencies or
in case something happens and you don’t get a new tub
tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Myra says as she takes the key
from her.

“Bye, Dylan,” Jackie says, “and thanks for
packing up the car for me.”

He tucks his hands in his pockets and
nods.

Myra watches until Jackie’s car disappears
out of sight.

She wonders what in the world she and Dylan
are going to do now that Jackie’s gone. She steals a quick glance
at him, and he looks just as lost as she feels. She pulls in a deep
breath. “Well, I’m going to go in and start dinner.”

Dylan nods. “I’m gonna smoke. I’ll be in
there in a bit.”

Walking up to the house, Myra looks back at
him one more time before she closes the door with a sigh.

* * *

Leaning up against his truck, Dylan starts
on his second cigarette and stares up at Myra’s house. Now that
Jackie’s gone, will they eat dinner together? So far, Jackie’s been
with them every time, monopolizing the conversation. It’s going to
be fucking strange to eat with Myra alone. What the hell are they
going to talk about? How did he let things get so fucking messed
up?

His phone rings. He shoves his cigarette
back in his mouth and pulls it out.

He groans when he sees Sabrina’s name. This
is the third time she’s called in the last hour, and he has no
plans of answering it. He knows exactly why she’s calling. She
wants to chew his ass out over getting questioned by the cops
today. He silences it and quickly shoves it back in his pocket.
Taking another drag on his cigarette, he stares up at the dark
clouds. The wind whips hard, almost blowing his baseball cap off
his head.

His phone rings again.
“Goddamn it,”
he mutters in frustration as he pulls it out again. But this time
it’s his mom. He frowns as he debates about whether to answer it or
not. Guilt wins out.

“Yeah?”

“Dylan?” his mom asks her voice panicked.
“I’m so glad you answered. It’s Natalie.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

“She went into labor earlier today so we
rushed her to the hospital, but she… she’s hemorrhaging. She’s lost
a lot of blood. You need to get here fast, Dylan. Chad’s a mess,”
she sobs.

“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Is
the baby…? Did the baby…?”

“The baby’s fine, Dylan, she’s just really
tiny. She weighed 4 pounds 5 ounces. She’s going to be in NICU for
a while, but it’s Natalie…”

“All right, I’ll be there as soon as I
can.”

Dylan’s hands shake as he hangs up the
phone.

If anything happened to Natalie… He can’t
even think about that right now. But what the hell is he gonna do
about Myra?

He paces back and forth in Myra’s front
yard, smoking and rubbing the back of his neck. He doesn’t want to
tell her, but he
has
to, he has no other choice.

Dylan walks quickly to the front door and
opens it, walking down the hallway and into the kitchen. Myra’s
face pales when she looks at him. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

“I have to go to Boise. Nat had the baby,
and she’s… hemorrhaging. So I have to go.”

Myra’s mouth falls open as her hand flies to
her chest. “Oh, no… Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”

“The baby’s in NICU and she’s all right.
It’s just… Nat... I don’t know much yet. I just have to go.”

“I’ll come too,” Myra says.

“Look, I don’t think that’s a good idea,”
Dylan says. Instantly, Myra looks angry.

“Just hear me out,” Dylan pleads, holding up
his hands. “I don’t think another long trip in the truck will be
good for you and the baby. And the stress of seeing Natalie; I
don’t know how she’ll be. I just think it would be better if you
stayed here. If she’s doing well, I’ll be back tomorrow.” She
stares at him for a few seconds before letting out a long sigh and
reluctantly nodding.

“But there’s no way in hell I’m leaving you
here alone so I was thinking I’d call Porter and ask him if he
could stay with you until I get back.”

Myra nods at him again, and Dylan quickly
pulls out his phone and dials Porter.

“Hey, Dylan,” Porter says. “Is everything
okay?”

“Not really. I’ve had a family emergency
come up, and I need to run to Boise. Is there any way you could
come over and stay with Myra tonight while I’m gone? I should be
back tomorrow sometime if everything works out.”

“Um, yeah, I could do that. I actually don’t
have to work this weekend so you caught me at a good time. When are
you leaving?”

“Now, if possible…”

“Okay. Let me grab some clothes. I can be
over there in about fifteen minutes or so.”

“Thanks, Porter, I really appreciate
this.”

“Not a problem. See you soon.”

* * *

Myra sits down at the table, her legs weak.
She feels like the wind has just been knocked out of her. She can’t
help the tears that trickle down her cheeks.

Dylan tucks his phone in his pocket.
“Porter’s on his way.” He gets down on his knees and grabs her
hands in his. “Don’t cry.
Please
try not to worry. I know
I’m asking a lot, but… just keep the baby safe until I get back,
okay?”

She nods, the tears continuing to come. She
can’t stop them.

“I need to go clean up. Are you okay?”

She squeezes his hands and whispers,
“Yeah.”

He reaches up and wipes a tear from her
cheek. He stares at her for a long moment before he finally gets up
and walks down the long hallway to the stairs. He turns and stares
at her one more time before disappearing around the corner.

* * *

“I won’t leave her until you get back,”
Porter tells Dylan, “so don’t worry about a thing. I’ll keep her
safe.”

Dylan nods as he silences his phone and
tucks it back into his pocket. Sabrina’s persistence is really
starting to piss him off.

“I’ll call you when I know something,” Dylan
tells Porter. “Can you give us a minute?” He looks from Porter to
Myra then back to Porter.

“Sure,” Porter mutters. “I’ll just wait in
the kitchen.”

Dylan turns to Myra. There are tears in her
eyes; they’ve been there since he told her the news. He can see the
fear and worry written all over her face. He swallows hard, his
Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He has to clear his throat in
order to speak. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’m sure she’s
going to be fine, okay?”