Taking Faith (12 page)

              "Feeling better?" he asked. She looked over to see him reclined in his seat.

              "Uh, yeah. Sure."

              "You don't sound convinced."

              "I'm just so tired, that's all." She leaned over and let her head rest on his shoulder. "Drive, why don’t you."

              He chuckled and leaned his seat up, carefully so as not to dislodge her. "Yes, ma'am."

              He drove around for a while. He took every dirt and back road he knew to give her the longest ride possible. When they'd spent as much time as they could, he drove home.

              Home. Amy found herself becoming more acceptant of that word every day.

              He pulled into the garage and helped her gently out of his side. She stood in the seat and he lifted her with ease and set her feet to the pavement. Once she was there, he kissed her forehead. She sighed with the gentleness of it, but he jerked back. "You're kinda hot."

              She gave him her best smirk. He laughed and then laughed some more. "Come on, I'll get you something for it."

              She followed him in and he set her on the couch. He came back with a bottle of pills and a glass of orange juice. He turned on the TV and flipped it to a home improvement channel. "You were watching this the other day. You like these shows?"

              "My mom used to watch them a lot," she said as she swallowed the pills down. "It just reminds me of…her."

              "You miss her," he said softly, but it wasn't a question.

              She nodded. "Sure. She was…pretty awesome."

              "Hmm." He put his hands on his hips. "Well, maybe one day I'll take you to see her."

              She stopped. "What? How?"

              "If we act
normal
long enough, they'll stop watching us so closely. People have taken short trips before. I'll just make up something for work and you'll just have to come with me." He smiled and looked at her hopefully. He was trying to please her and he wanted to see her smile.

              So she did. "I'd love that. Thanks."

              He nodded his head to indicate it was so and took his shoes off by the door before going into the kitchen. Amy leaned back, pulling her legs up to her chest and watched as a man told a lady that painting the kitchen pink would not help with the resale value. She smiled, thinking about what her mom would have said to that.

              When she heard pots banging around, her curiosity got the best of her. She got up and peeked around the corner. He caught her instantly. "Couch, young lady."

              "What are you doing in here?"

              He looked at the stove and back to her, giving her a grin. "Straightening my hair."

              "Ha, ha." She smiled and went to peek over in his pot. He turned her and pushed her with his arms around her back to the couch. He twisted her to him and touched her cheek, letting his thumb rub caresses.

              "Will you just sit down and let me make you some dinner? All right?" he said, his voice deep and sweet. All she could do was nod. He turned, but changed direction and headed to the desk.              

              "I almost forgot about this. I meant to take it out days ago." He opened a locked drawer with a key from his ring and pulled an old rotary telephone out. "Do you want to, uh…call Elena, maybe?" She felt her eyebrows rise and he smiled sadly."You're not my prisoner anymore, Amy."

              She just sat and looked at him. He left to go back to the kitchen and she chewed on her lip. He was like a completely different person from three weeks ago. So she picked up the phone and the small black book he'd laid beside it, and looked up Alex's number. When he answered she was almost scared of what he'd do, but he just said, "Sure," and gave the phone over to Elena.

              They talked for about twenty minutes as Amy poured out her heart to the only person she could. Elena sounded pretty great, which she hadn't expected. She sounded almost happy. She didn't talk much, but listened to Amy tell her all about Roger and how things had made such a turnaround. She didn't tell her
everything
. She didn't want Roger to get in trouble if people found out he was…not like the rest of them.

              She said her goodbyes to Elena, and when she turned, she found Roger in the doorway watching her. He had a strange look on his face and she stood from where she'd been sitting on the floor. "What is it?"

              He gulped. "Call your mom."

              "What?" she breathed and watched his face for seriousness. He was. She knelt back down to the floor. "I can't, can I? I…"

              "I want you to. Just let her know you're all right." He came and squatted in front of her. "I promise you that we'll go see her one day, ok? We'll even stay there forever if that's what you want. But if you want to stay…with me, then we just have to wait a little bit to get the community off of our backs. They'll look for us with no mercy otherwise. They'll look for us anyway, but… If your mother is as awesome as you say she is, it's not fair to make her worry."

              "I'll make it really quick," she said quickly and gripped his hand. "Just to tell her I'm safe, that's all."

              He nodded and licked his bottom lip. "You can take it into the bedroom if you like."

              "No," she answered swiftly. "I'm not trying to hide anything from you."

              "I didn't mean that," he said. "I just thought you might want some privacy."

              "You won't get into trouble? For me doing this? What if they're tracing the call or something?"

              "As long as you keep it short, it should be all right."

              She nodded and pressed her fingers to her mouth, thinking of what to say. She picked up the receiver and dialed. When the ringing started, her heart beat frantically. She looked for Roger, but he was gone back into the kitchen.

              "Hello," her mother answered. She sounded tired. It had been two months since she'd been taken.

              "Mom," she croaked.

              "Amy? Amy!" she said and then sobbed through her words so hard that Amy couldn't hear what she was saying.

              "Mom, calm down. Listen, I can't talk long. I just wanted to let you know that I was ok."

              "Where are you? We’ve been looking everywhere."

              "I…don't know," she said truthfully, almost glad that she didn't know so she didn't have to lie. "But I'm fine, really. I'll explain more later…when we come to see you."

              "We? Who's we? What’s going on? What have you done, Amy?"

              "Nothing. I'll explain later. It's a long story. I just want to say that I'm ok. And I love you, Mom."

              "Oh, Amy. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

              "No, Mom. I love you, ok?"

              "Amy, please-"

              "I’ll come soon. I promise."

              A long pause. "All right, Amy. I trust you." She sighed. "I love you, baby."

              "Love you, too, Mom. Stop looking for me, ok? Bye.”

              A sob filled pause and then, “Bye.”

              She pressed the call release button and hugged the phone to her chest. Her mom’s voice…she’d heard it! She knew she was ok and that was all that mattered. When she felt the happy tear roll down her cheek she rolled her eyes at herself. She got up and made quick steps to the kitchen to thank Roger. He was leaning against the counter with his palms, his head down. She realized then the sacrifice he’d made. He thought once again that she was going to leave. Maybe it was crazy to stay, but to Amy, it felt right. This was where she felt she’d been placed for a purpose and she needed to stick it out.

              He turned his head only to find her watching him and tried to smile. “It went well, I guess?”

              She ran across the linoleum and leapt into his arms. He turned as if sensing her urgency and caught her easily to his chest. His arms, warm bands of comfort, held her up gently as he buried his face in her hair. “Thank you.” She pulled back just enough to speak and looked into his eyes that were the closest they’d ever been. “Thank you. You have no idea how much better I feel knowing she knows that I’m ok.”

              “Why don’t you just go home?” he asked with such gentleness as he let her feet touch the floor. “I want you to stay, I…need you to for more reasons than one, but I just want to know why you didn’t leave when I gave you the opportunity to.”

              “Because I…feel a spark here, something I’ve never felt before. It feels like there’s something I’m supposed to be doing here. And my mom’s fine. I was already living on my own. This isn’t about her.”

              “So, you’re here because you think you can…what?”

              “No idea, but I feel
…right
here. And you’re so…” She found herself gulping.

              “Amy, I’m not sure if I…” He gulped, too, making Amy even more nervous. “I’m not sure I can love anyone.” She felt an odd ache hit her in the chest.

              She felt her cheeks color with an embarrassed pink. “I’m just saying that I’ve grown…fond of you, that’s all. You’re sweet and careful with me and I appreciate it.”

              He rubbed her arm up and down as if hesitating or prolonging something, but he soon stepped back and nodded his head toward the doorway. “Why don’t you go sit and I’ll finish in here.”

              She nodded and left quickly. Once on the other side of the wall where he couldn’t see she smacked her forehead with her palm. What was she about to say to him? Ugh… She was such an idiot.

              She sat and he soon brought in some homemade chicken noodle soup. They ate on the couch together and watched TV for a long time before she fell back asleep. She felt him carry her to bed and thought he’d climb back in the bed with her since they’d already spent one night together, but no. He situated himself back onto the floor and she felt her mood sink even further. Not that she wanted to jump him right then or whatever but, she thought they had crossed some barrier or broken a wall down. He apparently wasn’t thinking that.

              He was just being nice out of obligation, of course. All the tension and…looks and closeness she’d experienced with him had just been him not having dealt with a woman before. But he’d told her himself that he hadn’t been pretending. He said he meant it all. Was he just saying that because he thought she was leaving and she hadn’t? She squeezed her eyes shut and told herself to pay more attention from then on.

              She had to know if there was even something to stay here for.
             

Chapter 12

              After her shower the next day she emerged, wet hair drying on her shoulders and a t-shirt on. She put on the cut-off shorts she’d made from a pair of jeans because the store had no shorts. None. Roger told her it was because the women weren’t allowed to wear shorts in the community. She promptly asked him if she could wear them in the house and make her own. He grinned and winked his acceptance of it.

              Now she felt clean, cool and ready to face whatever kind of day. Ready to determine what exactly was going on between her and Roger. “Hey,” she said chipperly. “Just FYI, all of the shampoo is gone.”

              “Not a problem,” he answered from his chair as he rested with his arms behind his head.

              “Sorry,” she laughed and pulled her wet hair around to the front side. “My hair is a mess. It’s a beast to keep up with. Maybe I should cut it?”

* * *

              Roger almost groaned at that. And it was becoming a torturous thing to look and not touch, especially when she was being so sweet like this. He got up from his chair and stood in front of her. He took her hair in his hands and let his fingers comb it through. Even wet, it was smooth and sexy. He bit the side of his cheek to keep his inappropriate comment to himself. Instead he said, “Don’t you dare cut this.”

              “You like it?” she said and smiled coyly. He almost groaned again. What was this girl doing to him? He felt inside out and scorched in all sorts of places.

He smiled. “I love it.” He boldly leaned forward to hug her around her middle and loved the way her arms seemed to fit perfectly - and eagerly - around his neck. But this was just a friendly hug. He smelled her strawberry shampoo…that shampoo…

He moved back quickly and tried to smile. “It’s Sunday so I’m going to mow the yard and do some maintenance stuff on my truck. You all right with hanging out today?”

“Sure.”

So after she finished breakfast, he headed outside. At least if he was away from her for a while, he could convince himself that pressing her to the nearest wall and kissing the pretty lips right off of her face was not a good idea.

* * *

After a while of watching TV, folding clothes and other mundane housewife stuff that she’d never been that great at or interested in, she decided to see what Roger was up to.

             
The garage door was heavy and creaky so she hadn’t snuck up on Roger, but he continued to work under the truck. She smelled oil and imagined he was changing it. She knelt down and peeked under. “Hi. Mind if I help?”

              “Uh…” he looked at her down his body and back up, “it’s a tight squeeze, but you can if you like.”

              She laughed. “If you can fit, I can fit.” She lay down beside him on the concrete and wiggled her way up. “So, what are we working on?”

              He grinned at her, a little spot of grease on his cheek. “Well, missy, we’re changing the oil. The Caddy’s next. You want to help me?”

              She nodded. “Mmhmm. My daddy used to let me help him when I was little. I bet I can change the oil faster than you can.”