Let It Burn (6 page)

“Why...why me? It sounds like you have the project well in hand, I don’t know if my coming in now could be of...” Sara leveled a look at me over sushi; she had insisted I try it and that was my new mantra. Try new things.

“Nonsense, pet. I have plenty to keep my plate full, which is precisely why I needed you. I have a few mentors ready to go for the next month or so, and I can explain the basics of the program. It’s so early in to it. I think it would be a great project for you to get under. Make your mark at Washington.” Dipping her Uni into a pool of soy, she pointed her chop sticks at me then took a bite.

“Sara,” For some reason as I picked at my own plate of sushi, wishing it were maybe battered and fried, my eyes flooded with tears, “this might sound insane or ungrateful. Why do you have such blind faith in me? I barely had the guts to try sushi because it’s like nothing else I would have done before.” I swiped my fingertips over my eyes hastily; I was a lot of things, but weak or pathetic had never been on that list.

“Oh pet. I joked with Deacon about feelings, remember? When you reached out to me for the position at Washington, like he said, I did research. Like I always do. Before you told me, I knew about your family, about your...about Tucker. Not the details of course, just what was on paper. The very first email you sent me, after the application process had begun, I had already begun interviews.” She smiled warmly at me, her hand reaching to stop mine from fussing with my sushi, “Then I read that lovely email. It was more than a hello email, even though it was just a few paragraphs. You are a talented writer, Charli,” I knew my face flushed because I felt hot and her words felt so important I focused on her bright, watery green eyes.

“In those few paragraphs somehow you let me know that you wanted more than a job. You wanted a chance at life. You wanted to choose something for yourself and you needed it more than you could let on.
That
is why I have faith in you. Because once upon a time, I left the most beautiful village you might ever see because there was not a shred of myself left in my life. We all need something for ourselves. You want to succeed; you want to prove that you can own something as bad as I did when I took a flight to the US with nothing but hope and some pride. I have faith in you because once, I had to have faith in myself when no one else did.”

“Sara,” Again I swiped at my eyes because now both our eyes were watery, “thank you. For...for the job, for the cottage. Really though, for letting me take a chance, even if I fail. I need a chance to fail, to try things. Thank you. I can’t.... you might be my sweet Irish fairy godmother.” We laughed and she shoved my sushi at me.

“Don’t forget mouthy and inappropriate, Charli. Speaking of, how lovely to look at is your new landlord? If I didn’t love Gwen like a sister, Jesus the things I’d let Deacon do to me!” Then we were laughing, the tears different as she carried on about him and his apparently equally hot son.

Before the end of the day, we were deep into the mentoring program and I knew it was a perfect fit for me. Besides knowing what it was like to want a chance at something, which this program could offer, it was a great way for me to make my mark here. Just like Sara said. If I could create a program with a positive impact on the kids here, it would prove to Sara and myself I made the right choice.

After a midafternoon talk with Deacon, where we talked about furniture and painters, I could not have felt more like I had in fact made the right choice. I could move in within the next week and had his promise it would be all ready to go. I had to promise to drop him some donuts, homemade of course, at his fire house and I was all too glad to throw an apron back on.

Most of my night was spent outlining the program and going over the mentors Sara had lined up for the first week. It was to be an eight-week program but so far we had just five mentors lined up. It was an additional life building program offered to the high school students Sara was so passionate about building futures for.

The mentors each had a week to speak to the kids who signed up, which so far was a good number. During that week they would hold sessions with smaller groups of the kids, to allow more one on one time. There would also be visits to businesses, when positions allowed for it. This would allow chances for the kids to get a feel of what their day-to-day was.

My first task was to fill out the rest of the weeks with mentors, as we were short a few. At the moment, we had two men Deacon had offered; his son Cage would lead the first week and a police officer named Blake Stiles would lead the fourth week. The second week was a doctor friend of Sara, whose name made her blush every time I mentioned him, and the third week was a basketball coach.

The kids could choose who to spend time with actually shadowing on the job, but they got to visit with each of the mentors during the lectures. With a little of my background, I had an idea of who else would be interesting to tap for mentors. With that in mind, I wrote up a proposal to pitch to possible mentors. By the nights end I had a really good feeling about the program.

Ignoring the thumping and moaning from next door, I ordered in some food when it got late. Ordering in food was the smallest most trivial thing but it was new for me. Back home the most you could order was a pizza or wings. Pretty basic staples for my little town in Iowa. It was a tiny town, just two-thousand residents and it
felt
like a small town.

When I had been very young, mama used to joke they rolled the sidewalks up at dusk. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate; most businesses back home closed early and opened even earlier. With a lot of farmers populating the area, most the town operated around their schedule. We had the tiny library, two grocery stores on either end of the town and less than ten restaurants that weren’t mom and pop shops.

Everyone was sure they knew everyone and their business. It was the main reason I had always wanted out. The first time I kissed a boy, Jared Blair in the sixth grade, my entire block knew by the time I got home. I hated the talk and the muttering that went on when I walked down the street. My entire life had been made up of expectations. Not my own.

When I began dating Tucker, it had been mostly because it was expected. He was handsome and funny but I’d known him most my life. Our parents were close, my brother’s best friends with Tucker and his brothers. It was as if I never had a choice in it.

“Does it matter that I know for a fact Ryder Blair catches your eye every single time he’s in the room?” My mother had asked after I had accepted Tucker’s proposal.

“What? No he does not,” Ryder was Jared’s older, hotter brother, and the black sheep of the family, “I mean...maybe because I don’t understand him. He’s different.”

“So, Cupcake, are you.” My mama married young and though she had adored my daddy, I knew she didn’t want the same for me.

“Not like Ryder. He’s...different than everyone here. Just like his mother; they got out because there was nothing here for them. There are some of us that will get out. Some of us who don’t want to. And some of us who just don’t have the choice.” My ring had caught the light and I knew I was crying because I knew which one I was.

“Oh Cupcake.” Mom had been sick by then and I could sense the sadness that was deep in her bones.

It wasn’t about being sick, that sadness. It was about regrets. When I was little she had a hatbox that had never held a hat in it. It was full of the dreams she had tucked away as a young girl. Photos and postcards of places she wanted to go, tiny bottles full of dirt or sand from the places she actually saw. Scraps of paper with words that meant nothing really, but to her meant everything.

It was about her knowing my daddy loved her so much he resented sharing her with us. Oh he loved us, in his way, but his abandonment would always make me question how much. Her sadness was about me accepting that I had to live the life everyone expected me to.

“Charli. You listen to me. You can marry Tucker because you love him or because you think you ought to. Or you can find someone like Ryder who makes you feel something you don’t understand. Who makes you wonder what could be out there. Or you can love no one at all and be just as happy as you want to be,” Mama had not gotten all her dreams but she had been happy, I knew that.

“You don’t have to accept a life that doesn’t fill you with light and hope and lets your dreams come true however you want them to. Your daddy was it for me, no matter how flawed he is. Your brothers...they will find some way to carry on. When I’m gone...you don’t let this place or my life or anyone else hold you here or anywhere at all.”

Of course as much as her words had startled me, it felt like I had finally heard the truth. Too soon after, still figuring out what to make of those words, I lost her. Like a fool I’d done exactly what she had told me not to. I stayed while Tucker was off playing hero and I played the bride-to-be for everyone else.

After my brothers left, shortly after Tucker, my mother’s words came back to me. By then it was too late because I had made a promise. The night before Tucker had left, I had vowed myself to him in every way possible.

“It’s us, angel. From this moment on it’s about us. Everything I do is for us.” Tucker had a way with words and as he took the last part of me, sinking inside me beneath the moonlight as we laid in the back of his truck, I had believed him.

Because I had loved him too. He was handsome, built like the ranch hand he had been, he was golden and blond with bright blue eyes. Everything a hometown boy should be. Polite and sweet, he loved my family and from the first dance during high school, he had loved me.

Our relationship had been perfect and the envy of all my friends. Friday nights were spent hanging out with our older brothers at bonfires by the river. Tucker was perfect and never expected too much even when I did. The Friday night bonfires gave us a cover to sneak off into the dunes and be alone. Before that night in the back of his truck, Tucker had never pushed.

Those nights hidden in the dunes had begun with fumbling kissing and seeking hands. How we had never been caught with his hands down my pants or his mouth around my nipple, I had no idea. Every weekend I wanted more because I felt heat and need build in me with every stroke of his fingers and swipe of his tongue against mine.

The first time I stroked him to orgasm, I had all but mounted him I had wanted him so badly. We had been together so long and had pleasured each other plenty of ways. Tucker never asked for and frankly, never seemed to want more. I had wanted him to prove he wanted me, that he loved me the way I thought I did him. It seemed Tucker knew better for both of us and so we waited.

Sometimes I had wondered why he took me the night he left, knowing what I knew now. Now I had figured it out, I thought. Tucker did love me, just as much as I loved him. Which was never enough. Would never have been enough to make a future for both of us. But he wanted to try. So that night he had meant what he said. I truly believed that.

His choice to join the army was his way of proving to me he was going to try. Tucker wanted to get us out of that town so we had a chance for something different. He also wanted to find out for himself if he could love me the way he knew I needed. It had been perfect for a few moments but soon, I had realized what he would take so much longer to admit.

“Charli,” The horror and grief in his voice stuck with me still, that last phone call that had changed both of us forever, “I love you so much. I do. No one has ever...no one knows me the way you do. I tried, angel. I did, so hard. You know...you know I didn’t want to...to be...” By then I had come to realize Tucker’s truth and I loved him more for trying.

“Tucker, baby I love you. You’re my best friend. I love you despite it. As long as you want me to, I’ll play your bride. If you need me to. Whatever you need until you’re ready, Tucker. You live your truth, baby.” I had no idea then how long I’d have to play the bride.

The widow for the husband that never was. We never spoke again because three months later he was killed after his convoy was ambushed. Though stationed elsewhere, my brothers had been hurt at the same time. Because my life doesn’t just give me tragedy, it rains it down upon me. Just like that my entire life changed again because they shipped my brothers home to recoup, and discharged them soon after.

Tucker came home in a box and I was a widow before I got a chance to be a bride. The only peace I got was knowing Tucker had gotten a chance to live honestly. Still his funeral had gutted me. A letter arrived from him, just days after. I never opened it because I knew what it would say and I hadn’t been ready to let his truth out.

That letter and the hatbox of my mother’s was why I had left home. I knew what his words would say. Knew that my mother would not want me to have a box full of regrets when I had time to make dreams happen. The day after I closed the shop because of Widow Jenkins and Mrs. Rawlins, I sat down with my brothers. My brothers had wives and homes and a life. Experiences I had been robbed of. Eventually, we would figure out the house and the shop.

“Now you go live your truth,” Maisie had said, her words startling me, “you follow dreams, fail, succeed, fuck around, and fuck up. Break hearts and get your heart broken. Don’t live with regrets.”

“We don’t want you to come home,” Sadie had sobbed as she urged me to take a chance, "but if you do you’ll always have a home.”

It was all I needed to hear and days later I had reached out to Sara, packed up the truck and hit the road. I suppose I chose Chicago because it wasn’t New York or L.A. It was still close to home if I wanted to run back. We had had talked about it once, Tucker and I. We thought maybe there we could live the way people were meant to. Without people knowing we were even living at all.