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Authors: Synthia St. Claire

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BOOK: Love Lift Me
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At
first, his words glossed over me. A second later, I realized who he was talking
about and asked, with a ill feeling in my gut, “Wait a minute…are you talking
about Hale Ellis?”

He
nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on me. “I am. And I hired him, at least for the
pre-harvest that is. My ol’ tractor is in a state and the rest of the equipment
needs serious maintenance.”

I
couldn’t believe it. Even after everything that happened, my father sure was
quick to hire my ex-boyfriend. Now I’d be seeing him around the farm all the
time, and I knew he wasn’t going to spend all his time working in the garage.

“Daddy!
Have you lost your mind? Why can’t Dale take care of that stuff? He did all
your maintenance for the past ten years. And Hale? Why on Earth would you take
him on? You know how lazy he is. You’ll be lucky to get more than one hour of
work out of him a day.”

My
father’s easy voice settled into a more serious tone as he explained, “Honey,
I’ve been runnin’ this farm a long time. Dale is almost seventy years old. He’s
getting’ too old to be welding and climbin’ round underneath them machines. He
tol’ me he could run the harvester, but if he had to keep doin’ the maintenance
this year then he’d have to jus’ go on and retire. He probably ought to, anyway.
I’m too old to do that stuff and Francis, good worker that he is, ain’t got the
first idea how to fix those machines. We needed somebody young, with
experience, and Hale Ellis fit the bill.”

“But
why Hale? Can’t you find somebody else?” I complained.

“Slim
pickin’s around here, that’s why. Most of the decent mechanics work at the
phosphate plant. The boy knows how to work on farm equipment. And, while it
might not mean much, he said he wants to do something to make up for everything
that went on between you two and was willin’ to do the job for free.”

“For
free?” That certainly didn’t sound like the Hale I knew. “I still can’t believe
you’d hire him.”

“Listen,
Lil’ Bit, I understand you and him got problems, and that ain’t none of my
business, but runnin’ this farm is. Just avoid each other and you’ll be fine. I
think the boy can do the job, and he acts like he wants to, and that’s all
there is to it.”

Daddy
stuck his unlit pipe in his mouth and that was the end of it. I could plead and
beg all I wanted and it wouldn’t do any good.

 

I
was a bit nervous driving mother to her chemotherapy treatment the next day.
The roads around Wilmington had never been the easiest to travel, and all the
traffic reminded me of being aboard the bus before it crashed. Thanks to a few
stern, unnecessary reminders from the backseat driver sitting beside me to,
“Slow down, ‘fore you get us both killed,” I made it through.

The
cancer clinic was near the big hospital in the middle of town. On the outside,
the place looked cheerful, with low-cut boxwoods stretching down the brick
exterior all the way around the front and a sidewalk lined with pretty,
blooming flowers of all the colors in the rainbow.

Inside,
it was a much different story; rows of identical, pale blue easy chairs pushed
against the wall, each one with a patient sitting in them, and each patient hooked
up to an unnatural, neon-yellow bag of fluid that slowly dripped out the poison
that doctors hoped would cure them. What little natural light there was came
from narrow, slit-like windows situated at the top of one wall. The rest was a
steady, reliable glow from the rows of fluorescents arranged overhead. A few
nurses walked around quietly, checking connections or talking amongst
themselves.

There
were dozens of televisions that hung down from the ceiling so the patients that
weren’t sleeping could watch something to pass the time and large bins placed
around the room held loads of old magazines to read. The scent of bleach and
cleaner hung in the air and reminded me of a nursing home I’d spent a few weeks
interning at during spring semester. It was difficult to get past the
depressing atmosphere of the place and being there made me feel out of sorts.

“This
isn’t so bad,” I said, trying to encourage myself along with mother, who was
busily clicking the buttons on a remote control. “Nicer than the one I toured
in school.”

“I
ain’t never spent so much time watching television in all my life, honey. It
feels downright lazy sitting ‘round like this, when there’s so much work to be
done at the house.”

“It’s
not lazy. You’ve got cancer, momma.”

She
only held up one hand and waved my comment off, like cancer wasn’t a big deal
at all and clean dishes were the height of importance. When the nurse came by
to hook her up, mother looked away with a sick expression while the woman went
about the work of flushing out the tubing and attaching the thin hose full of
medication to her arm.

“Mary
Katherine, ain’t no use in you wasting your entire day sitting here with little
ol’ me.” Mother unzipped her purse, which never left her shoulder outside the
house, and she handed me a crumpled hundred dollar bill. “Take the car and go
on down to Folson’s. The cupboards are nearly bare and your father ain’t much
for shopping. That ought to be enough to get some groceries for the house.”

I
looked up at the friendly nurse and she gave me a slight nod, as if to say that
wasn’t a bad idea and that she’d leave too if she could.

“Momma,
are you sure? Won’t you get bored sitting here all alone?”

“I’m
sure. Got my stories here to keep me company. Go on now.”

I
felt bad about leaving her there, but I couldn’t help being a bit relieved to
get out of that depressing place. A quick shopping trip would be a nice
distraction, and I hadn’t really been out in public anyway since I left the
hospital weeks ago. Some chocolate would be especially nice, and Folson’s had
an entire counter full of freshly-made desserts. Maybe mother would be able to
stomach a few bites of something sweet, and if she couldn’t, I knew I could!

 

Midday
meant few other shoppers, which was perfect. I browsed down the aisles, dodging
the workers as they loaded up the shelves with new items, and picked up things
I had noticed we needed at the house. At the deli counter I spent the most
time, eyeing peanut butter cookies, scratch made apple and blueberry pies, and
a triple-layer fudge cake with so much icing I had to wonder how it didn’t fall
flat under its own weight.

While
I was enraptured by the delicious calorie bombs behind the glass, another
customer began browsing beside me. I didn’t pay her much mind until we both
turned and caught eyes, and then I instantly recognized her.

Cindy
Reid. She was dressed in a thin, monochromatic sports vest with a matching
pleated skirt that barely covered the tops of her thighs. Her long,
near-blindingly blonde hair had been tied back into a conservative ponytail
that bounced on the back of her head and the visor she wore covered the front.
She looked every bit like she had just been out playing tennis for the day at
the country club. I thought such a proposition absurd, because breaking a sweat
was far too unfashionable for her.

I’d
known her well during high school and she didn’t seem to have changed one bit. We’d
spent as much time getting into trouble back then as we had bickering with each
other, so I guess a stranger might think us as friends at a glance, even though
we definitely weren’t. Her family had roots in Kirkland and they owned the
largest phosphate plant in the entire region, which also made them one of the
richest families to ever set foot in eastern North Carolina.

She
was still thin and attractive, and obviously not afraid to flaunt it. Not a
strand of hair was ever out of place on her head and the clothes she wore were
always the most expensive, something that drew the ire of many girls that walked
the halls of our school. They’d even nicknamed her ‘Cindy-rella’, and most of
them spent the entirety of high school wishing the clock would strike twelve.

We
had what I would call a
pretend
friendship during those years. She
didn’t want to leave any of the pretty girls out of her clique, and I didn’t
want to be on the receiving end of her wrath. Mostly that involved being able
to avoid the more vicious rumors she spread about everyone she didn’t like or
weren’t in her little club. Our bickering was almost always related to the boys
we wanted to date, and Hale was no exception. Cindy had tried everything she
could think of to get her claws in him, even after we started dating. For
whatever reason, not being able to have him only made her want him more.

Well
, I thought.
Now
she can have him
.

Cindy
looked even more surprised to see me than I was to find her in such a
low-budget type of place. Before I could say a word she let out an excitable
shout. “Kat Atwater! Hey, you!” Then, she rushed forward with a series of
skittering little steps and gave me a huge, uninvited hug. “Girl, this town
just ain’t been the same without you here! How long has it been?”

“Almost
four years Cindy, if you can believe it.” I pointed to her outfit and tried to
smile. “Looks like you’ve been staying…active.”

She
beamed at the backhanded compliment. “Oh, you know! Miss Kirkland has gotta
keep her figure.” Then she gave a little frown and shook her head as she looked
at me, unimpressively decked out in a pair of old Reeboks, some cutoff shorts,
and a boring print t-shirt I’d bought from Wal-Mart. “You know I hate seeing
people let themselves go, Kat.”

“So,”
I said, hoping she would go away but not having any luck, “What brings you
here? Did the maid stop making grocery runs?”

She
snapped her head back and answered, “Oh, you’ve still got that sense of humor,
I see! But no, I’m just here to pick up a treat for someone very near and dear
to my heart.”

“Yourself,
you mean,” I groaned under my breath.

“What’d
you say dear?”

“Nothing.
Just picking out something for my mother. The chocolate one looks nice, doesn’t
it?” I offered, although a sour taste was developing in my mouth.

“It’s
not bad. I put in a custom order, of course.”

I
looked around, hoping someone would hurry up and come take my order. Standing
there with Cindy was beginning to make me feel ill. Down at the other end of
the deli counter, the only clerk that appeared to be working was still haggling
with a woman that looked every bit of a hundred or more and wouldn’t accept her
turkey until it was cut into paper-thin slices.

“Of
course. Who could think of buying something right off the shelf?” I said.

“Uh
huh,” she answered, ignoring my jab, and said conspiratorially, “I heard all about
what happened, with the crash that is. Terrible, just terrible. I sure was glad
to hear that you were all right.”

“You
were?”

She
sucked air between her teeth. “Sure I was, silly.” Cindy raised her hand and
waved it to get the clerk’s attention before turning back to me and lowering
her voice. “Is it true what I heard? That some man pulled you out and saved
you?”

I
nodded and tried not to frown. I’d been so wrapped up in my own recovery and
taking care of mother, I hadn’t gotten the chance to find out anything else
about Shane. “He was sitting next to me on the bus before the wreck. If he
hadn’t been there…I don’t want to think about what might have happened.”

“How
come I didn’t hear about him in the news? Something like that, they’re usually
all over it. An honest to God
hero
, and all they talk about is the Bucks
game or what the mayor is up to this week, like anyone cares about that stuff.”

“I
don’t know,” I answered with a shrug. “He didn’t seem like the kind of guy that
wanted attention.”

“I
know one man that always loved getting your attention,” Cindy said and gave me
a devious wink. “But I hear that ain’t the case anymore. Not too big of a
surprise, really.”

I
shrugged and turned my attention back to the wondrous confections arranged
under the deli counter glass to avoid showing any emotion. As mad as I was at
Hale, seeing how happy Cindy was to throw our breakup in my face had me seeing
red.

“You
know, I should stop by his place tonight on my way home, just to see how he’s
handling your unfortunate recent circumstances. I know right where it is, been
there myself more times than I can count since you went off to school and left
him here by his lonesome.”

“What?
We just broke up-” I pushed the words out through gritted teeth.

“Should
I pick him up something for that sweet tooth of his? You know how he loves
something sweet. Maybe some strawberries and some whipped cream?” My face was
burning as she licked her lips and continued, “
Mmmm
…that sure sounds
good, doesn’t it?”

Instead
of losing my cool and punching her right in the jaw, I grabbed my shopping cart,
swung it around angrily, and stomped away from the sound of her sickening voice.
The triple-layer fudge cake would have to wait. If I had to listen to Cindy
Reid’s dirty, flapping lips for one single moment longer, she’d be wearing the
damn thing.

Seven

 

“That
girl is and always has been jealous of you,” mother said when I filled her in
on my chance encounter with Cindy. “Been like that since you two was
youngin’s.”

“Then
why do I feel like the jealous one?” I grumbled, conveniently leaving out the
part where Cindy told me that she’d been sleeping with Hale behind my back
while I was away at school.

“It’s
just that money, it sure ain’t her character. You don’t want to be like that, Mary
Katherine. Little Cindy Reid ain’t never pulled a weed from a patch of ground,
nor shucked an ear of corn in her whole blasted life. She jus’ sits back with
her hand out, and when she puffs them big ol’ lips out and flips that fancy
blonde hair around, most is content to look past her crooked smile and give her
what she wants.”

Mother
uncrossed her arms and pulled the visor down as we rolled through the last
light out of Wilmington and towards the afternoon sun. It was nice to know not
everyone in town was fooled by that stuck-up snob. As mother straightened her
hair in the mirror, sparse gray strands of it would stick to the moisture in her
fingers and fall into her lap. “Lord help me...I’m gon’ be bald-headed as that
fella in them commercials ‘fore it’s all said and done.”

“Do
you think Hale would-” I paused, sure of what she’d say, but I completed my
thought anyway, “…
do
anything with her?”

She
blew out expressively and rolled her eyes. “Hale? Wouldn’t surprise me, honey.”

“I
saw his truck out by Daddy’s garage this morning. He’s volunteered to help out
with the equipment for free since Dale said he was getting too old to work on
it anymore.”

“That
ain’t why he’s doin’ it, little girl. You know he’s jus’ tryin’ to get you to
take him back. Thinks he can go at it through the back way, I spec.” She looked
over at me and raised a brow. “From the looks of it, it’s already workin’.”

I
shook my head.
No. She was wrong.

“I
still haven’t forgiven him, Momma. Even if I do, I’m done with Hale Ellis.”

 

The
rest of the drive was mostly uneventful, and the old Lincoln handled the bumpy
gravel driveway leading up to our property with ease. Once we’d arrived at the
house, my sister Abby came bounding off the porch to greet us.

She’d
inherited mother’s golden-honey hair, which she’d braided along the sides and
tied together into one long ponytail, and her eyes shone with the same
sparkling deep blue of our father. Most folks didn’t peg us as sisters right
off the bat, since we’d gotten almost the exact opposite features. Still, she
was just as precocious as I had been at that age and we did share the same
dimples when we smiled, so it didn’t take long for strangers to catch on to our
relation.

Abby
was wearing a short, faded green dress with strips of white trim along the
edges that I instantly recognized. It had belonged to me at one time, but it
was now relegated to the pile of hand-me-downs that grew steadily larger in her
closet. The dress fit her well enough, so it had become part of her collection.
She was nearly as tall as I was and could probably go through and pick out the
clothes I’d left behind in my room if she wanted.

As
she raced to mother’s side of the car, Abby had to turn her head to avoid the
dust that followed us in. When it settled, she pulled open the door and helped
mother out and up the front steps ahead of me.

“I
got it now, sugar,” mother said to her as she eased into one of the wooden
chairs surrounding the kitchen table.

“Can
I go to Katie’s house?” Abby shot back quickly. “Miss Highlander is taking her
to the mall after dinner and she invited me.”

“You’re
gonna let that money burn a hole in your pocket, ain’t ya?” Mother said to Abby
and then turned to me, “She earns a few dollars sweeping up or doing some
chores and out she goes to spend it.”

“That
sounds familiar, except you and Daddy never gave me an allowance,” I said and set
down the bag of groceries I was carrying. Hanging out the top of the bag was a
plastic-wrapped box of generic vanilla wafers. They were a sad replacement for
the triple chocolate cake I’d had my eye on at the deli counter. “I had to save
up Christmas money, or birthday money.”

“Or
whatever your granny slipped you when we went for a visit,” mother reminded me.

“So,
can I go?” Abby said impatiently. “Please?”

“I
s’pose. Go help your sister get the rest of the groceries out of the trunk
first.”

At
that, Abby dashed through the screen door like a bolt of lightning, letting it
bang loudly behind her. Moments later, she returned with her arms full of
groceries and chucked them with difficulty onto the counter beside me. She was
still out of breath and red in the face by the time I finished putting the all
away.

“That’s
the last of ‘em,” Abby said pridefully. “Got ‘em all in one trip.”

“Thank
you, dear,” mother answered.

“Did
you close the trunk?” I asked, while balling up the empty plastic bags into one
another.

Abby
blew out and rolled her eyes. “No. I couldn’t get it.”

“Well,
get out there and shut it. Never know when it might rain.”

“Not
today,” she answered on her way back to the door, going more slowly this time.
“Daddy says it’s as dry as the Sahara out there. Been like that for weeks. Gon’
be like that all next week, too.” Before she reached the handle, Abby turned on
her heels and scooped up some papers from the table next to it. “Oh yeah, I
almost forgot. I picked up the mail while ya’ll was gone,” she said, and handed
me a thick stack of envelopes.

The
first few that I thumbed through were from the hospital or one of the many
doctors mother had gone to for treatment. I wondered how much longer my parents
could afford to keep paying Abby an allowance, much less keep the power on, now
that medical bills had begun to arrive.

I
wished that I could wave a magic wand and make all the bills go away. What
little money I had leftover from my student loans after tuition, books, and
uniform scrubs went to paying my rent back in Watauga. If I had to give it up,
I would, but for the time being I would stay positive. Soon enough I’d be back
to studying in my cramped single-bedroom apartment in the mountains.

 

After
helping mother to bed for a nap, I changed into my riding clothes. It would be
nice to get away from people for a while. I needed to get outside and into the
fresh air while it was still warm and the leaves had yet to fall. My leg felt
strong enough to ride and the persistent ache had almost completely vanished.
It was time to pay a long-overdue visit to Zip and Ruby.

 Both
horses were so glad to see me that I could hardly stop either of them from
nuzzling their fuzzy, whiskery faces against my neck or biting at the rolled-up
sleeves on my plaid shirt to try and get me to keep petting them. Since Ruby
seemed to prefer grazing in the meadow over riding, I let her out and wiped
down one of the brown leather saddles hanging under the loft and took Zip out for
a ride instead.

His
slick black coat glistened in the late afternoon sun as he turned this way and
that, anxious to go. Zip was always my favorite; steady, reliable in the way he
moved, and he could run so fast over the smooth, flat plain of the meadow that
you had to hold on to the harness with both hands for fear of sliding off the back
of the saddle.

I
took him along the outskirts of the meadow at a light trot to warm him up,
right along the border of our farm and the Johnson’s apple orchard. He always
loved it around this time of year because occasionally he could find a plump,
ripe one that had rolled far enough under the fence to snatch up. Without
slowing down, Zip would sweep his big head down and scoop up an apple and eat
it on the go. When it was time to run, though, running was all he focused on.

“Let’s
go,” I called out and tapped the heel of my boots against his hindquarters. The
effect was almost instant. Zip jolted forward, ignoring all the apples that
might have fallen, and raced down the borderline at full speed, tearing apart the
ground with his hooves. I flattened myself against him, feeling the wind race
over my back and in my hair, blowing with it all the troubled thoughts that
clouded my mind.

When
we reached the end of the meadow, I pulled easy on the rein and he obeyed by
turning left and hugging the next fence to come back around. Just as I reached
the top of the meadow and prepared to take another fast ride back down, I caught
the sight of a familiar gray and white truck pulling up into the small lot
beside the stables. The door opened, reflecting the sunlight like a signal in
the window, and Hale hopped out.

“Whoa,”
I whispered to Zip, and gave the reins a tug. The horse still wanted to go,
hungry to race down the meadow again, but he stopped in place at my command and
began rooting through the tall grass with his nose.

“I
didn’t know your Daddy kept that horse after you left,” Hale said over the
sound of his boots crunching in the gravel. As he came nearer he continued,
“Look how big he’s gotten. This fella could be a race horse if you wanted.”
When Hale reached the split rail fence he stuck one hand through, giving Zip a
few long strokes down the side of his neck.

“We
don’t,” I answered flatly. “What do you want, Hale?”

He
tipped the cowboy hat he was wearing and peered up at me with emerald eyes.
“Just being friendly, s’all. I had to come up here to check out the heaters and
the generator for the horse stable, and I saw you ridin’.”

“Don’t
think you’re fooling anybody, Hale. I know why you’re here, and it isn’t to get
in the good graces of my father.”

“What
else am I supposed to do, Kat? I tried to tell you I was sorry, but you
wouldn’t listen. Do you know why I couldn’t pick you up that day? Do you even
care?”

My
expression remained stony, but inside my pulse was racing.
Here comes the
excuse. What will it be this time?

Hale
slapped the pair of gloves he was holding against the fence and looked away
painfully, down towards the other end of the meadow. “Naw, you don’t care, look
at you. Ain’t never known you to be so cold.”

“What
do you expect?” I felt my voice grow louder. “Cold is how I’ve been treated by
you ever since I left for school. Hell, even before that. But I let you string
me along, didn’t I? Little Katty Atwater, Mr. Hale Ellis’s long-suffering
girlfriend, that lets him treat her like mud.”

“It
won’t like that, and you know it.”

“It
wasn’t? What about the time you ditched me at June’s place, saying how you were
all sick, only to find out later you were out on a date with that…that
slut
from Durham?”

“Kat,
we didn’t do nothin’, and you know it. Me and you had only started goin’ out
when that happened, anyway.”

“Yeah,
for a year,” I shot back. “You always put me in second place, whether it was
going out drinking with your friends or spending all your time working on that
stupid truck. You hardly ever came to visit me in school, and acted like I
didn’t exist when I’d come home for a visit.”

Hale
shook his head and gave me an angry stare. The vibrant green in his eyes shone
with a fire I’d never seen before. “Kat, you-“

“I
was there all alone, Hale. That whole time, I never knew what you were up to,
but now I do. Word travels fast in a small town.”

“I
wasn’t up to
nothing
. You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, girl.”

I
tried to laugh, but the tears that had started running down my cheeks made it
impossible. “I know…Cindy told me…”

Hale
sighed and pushed himself back away from the fence, holding out his hands in
surrender. The spark I’d seen in his eyes grew even brighter once he heard her
name. “Whatever she said is a…a damned lie.”

“And
I’m just supposed to believe you after all your lying. Is that it? It doesn’t
work like that, Hale.”

“She
was just tryin’ to rile you up, is all. You gonna believe her over me?”

I
twisted the leather rein in my hand and said, “I don’t know what to believe
anymore.”

Zip
neighed softly and tamped one hoof. He was getting restless and he’d barely had
a chance to stretch his legs.

“Kat,
I just want to make things right between us.”

“I
already said I didn’t want to see you again, yet here you are, trying to cozy
up to me like nothing ever happened,” I said, arching myself forward on the
saddle, which Zip took as his cue to get moving again. “Well, it ain’t gonna
work!”

Any
further pleas on Hale’s part were lost to the beating sound of hooves. Faster
than I’d ever felt him run; Zip sprinted across the open expanse at the middle
of the meadow and bounded high over the crossbar gate on the opposite side of
the field. He kept going, the wind coming off the coast blowing in his mane, and
we followed it, down into the narrow rows of sweet-smelling trees in the
orchard, as if he were sensing my anger and hopelessness and wanting to outrun
my emotions.

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