Damsel in the Dust

25

For the last three days, there's been an unspoken agreement between Jake and I about what happened that night. We haven't talked about it. We're both pretending it didn't happen. I'm actually starting to think it didn't. Either way, it's for the best. Neither one of us would be safe if Shawn found out. Besides, the last thing Jake needs is drama with Stephie while he's doing so well building a new life in Marion. With a town this small, it's unwise to make enemies that quickly.

Maive doesn't say anything more either, though I can tell by the looks she casts both of us that she wants to. I suspect Jake said something to her that morning after I brushed by and disappeared into my room until I was sure he had left for work. We all returned to our respective beds after that night. Dinners were quiet, the conversation driven by Maive chattering away about school or Jake giving an occasional update on work. I continued to worry about how easily Maive seemed to be putting her grief aside. I wondered if fixating on other things was just her way of coping. I also wondered if I needed to suggest she talk to a professional.

Now it's Friday and we're all packed into my truck, ready to make the trip into town to visit my Auntie and go school shopping for Maive. I cringe thinking about how awkward the three-hour ride will be. Not just because of what happened between me and Jake, but because we haven't talked about his confession since that night either. If I'm being honest, I still don't know what to say. How can I admit I'm not as afraid of the nameless, faceless goons he thinks might be coming for them when I'm still terrified to face my own living nightmares?

Guilt over my own situation and the danger it's putting Jake and Maive in has taken up residence in my core, turning my insides out. Jake was honest with me, yet I still can't bring myself to be truly honest with him. I am a monster in my own right.

As we make our way to the highway, I tell myself that I'll confess everything to Jake when we get back. He's on his feet now, Maive is enrolled in school, and they don't need me anymore. It's time to push them as far away as possible. It's for their own good. And mine.

Maive reaches over me to fiddle with the radio. "It's so quiet!" She whines.

"Sorry, it's broken," I tell her.

"This is going to be the most boring drive ever," she huffs.

That conniving little stinker somehow managed to give me the middle seat, pressed up against Jake while he drove and she enjoyed the roomy passenger seat. I would feel bad about the radio, and her boredom, but I don't. Every time we turn or hit a bump in the road, I'm slammed into Jake. Despite my best efforts I can't seem to fall the other way. I catch his jaw clenching every time it happens as if he's annoyed with me. I can't help it, though. Stupid bench seat.

We pass most of the drive in silence, broken only by my occasional directions to Jake. When we reach my Auntie's house, I can't help the overwhelming emotions that sweep over me. Relief, joy, and excitement all course through me at getting to see her again. As we pull into the driveway, I take in her perfect green lawn and the brilliant blooms in her flower beds. I don't know how she does it, but Auntie Em has the greenest thumb in the county. Her flowers blossom in the spring and last well into the fall. I asked her what the secret was once. She'd leaned in and whispered conspiratorially "coffee".

Auntie Em herself is pruning a vine snaking up the trellis around her porch when we arrive. She gives a wave as we park, and opens her arms to me as I practically leap over Maive to give her a hug.

"I missed you!" I tell her, blinking back the happy tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.

"Auntie," I say, taking her hands in mine, "this is Jake, and this is Maive. They're the guests I told you about earlier this week."