The Apple Tree (3 page)

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Authors: Kara Jimenez

BOOK: The Apple Tree
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He stood on the cushion, reaching and grunting for her to pick him up. Those chubby cheeks were a welcome sight after her eerie adventure in the woods. Scooping him into her arms, she gave him a big squeeze and carried him over to the tall corner lamp. The sun setting outside the large double window had cast the room in darkness. She showed him how to flip the switch and he clapped when light spread across the small space.

Why was Owen rotting in front of the TV and where was their mother?

A clanking noise came from above them and she set Owen back on the futon so she could go upstairs and find her.

The middle-aged woman stood in front of a full length mirror, in her bedroom, applying lipstick. Tight curls spilled over her shoulders, strands of silver mixed with golden red. Clothes had been tossed across the floor and make-up cases cluttered the dresser. The room actually looked cleaner than normal, at least there weren’t any dirty dishes lying around.


Bee, I’m glad you’re home. You need to stay with Owen tonight. I have a date.” Her scarlet lips stretched into a smile.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “You could ask me if that’s okay first. Maybe I have a date.”


Do you?” Her mother tossed the scarlet tube back on the dresser.


Well… no. But you could ask anyway.” The image of the guy from the woods flashed in her mind. She wouldn’t mind going out with him. Well, if he wasn’t so weird. She gathered an armful of laundry from the floor and threw it into the closet. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll watch him.” Turning around, she noticed her mother’s short skirt and low neckline. “Don’t wear that. You look like a slut.”

Her mother stepped back over to the mirror, pulling down the fabric of her olive mini dress and twisting her foot with black pump. “I like it. It matches my eyes.”

Of course, that’s all that mattered to her. Bianca shook her head and trudged back downstairs. The smell of roasted carrots, potatoes and bay drifted from the kitchen. She smiled. Her mother had made dinner. That rarely happened since her father left.

She pushed the potatoes around in the broth as her thoughts wandered back to the guy she’d met in the woods. What was the deal with those apples and why was he so uptight? It wasn’t like she’d gotten lost on purpose.

She lifted a spoonful to her mouth. Mmmm. Rosemary, and was that a touch of nutmeg? If she’d inherited even half of her mother’s cooking skills she’d be a success in the food blogging world. Speaking of her blog… The laptop rested on the counter. No, not now. It’d have to wait until Owen went to sleep. She finished her soup and then carried the bowl to the sink.

Owen ran into the kitchen raising his arms and demanding to be picked up just as their mother came downstairs to say goodbye. She still wore the green dress.


Thanks for making dinner. It was delicious,” Bianca said.


Oh, sure.” She adjusted her skirt. “You know, I do appreciate you helping with Owen.”

Bianca smiled. At least her mother noticed what she did for them. “Owen’s already eaten, right?”


Oh, yeah. He’s eaten.” She waved her hand and then headed toward the entryway, Bianca and Owen following behind her.


Bye!” Owen waved his chubby palm in the air. Her mother gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and then turned to her.


Do you have thirty…forty bucks I could borrow? Just in case he doesn’t pay.”


No, Mom, I don’t.” And even if she did, she wouldn’t give it to her to buy wine.

She huffed. “Fine. I’ll use a credit card or something. See you later.” Grabbing her purse, she walked out the door.

Bianca rolled her eyes and turned toward her half-brother. “Okay, Owen, time for your bath.”

Her cell phone rang and the beats of Vanilla Ice filled the room. Owen danced. Everyone always laughed when they heard her ringtone. Sure, it was an oldie, but it was a classic. It reminded her of dancing in the kitchen with her mother when she was a child. She looked at the caller ID. Stephanie.


Hey, girrrrl,” Bianca drew out, lifting Owen into her arms.

Stephanie laughed. “Hey, come with me to Lux tonight?”

Bianca rolled her eyes, grateful to have an excuse. “Can’t. My mom just left so I have to stay with Owen.” And bars weren’t really her thing.


Ay, you always stay with him. It’s like he’s your son or something. Grow a backbone and just tell her you’re going out.”

Bianca bit her lip. “She needs my help, you know how she is. Besides, she already left.”


I know how she is, but remember when you lived at my place? We had so much fun! I miss you!”


I know. We did have fun.” She’d move back in with Stephanie in a heartbeat if she wasn’t worried about Owen. Twenty-three was way too old to be living with her mother, but in reality, it was more like her mother lived with her.


Friday, then. Tell your mom she has to stay home Friday so you can go out with me.”


Okay. Friday. Talk to you later?”


Yeah. Bye, Bee.”

Owen spent the better part of his bath slopping water onto the floor and drenching her clothes. When he was dry and dressed in pajamas, she read him a story and tucked him into the toddler-sized mattress in the corner of her bedroom. It was really just a cushion that they moved between her room and her mother’s. The two bedroom apartment didn’t allow the luxury of everyone having their own room.

He fell asleep and she walked downstairs, spread herself out across the futon and opened her laptop. She clicked onto the whole foods blog she ran. Three new comments. Yes! New blog comments were like frosting for her day.

She’d started the website four months ago, posting recipes and tutorials on real food cooking. No boxed food, no cans, no processed food. It was a fun hobby, but she also secretly hoped to one day make money from the advertising on the site. Or maybe even get a publishing deal on a cookbook. Then she could quit her lame job at the pizza parlor.

Jenette465 said she’d tried her recipe for blueberry yogurt muffins and they were “Auhh-mazing!” Bianca did a happy dance in her seat and then spent the next hour rearranging the formatting and making a list of possible new recipes, including the apple cobbler and coconut ice cream she’d thought of earlier. When finished, she closed the computer, turned on the TV, and flipped through channels.

She settled on a drama about teenage vampires. Sometime after the school dance and the mega-hunk with blood dripping from his mouth, her eyes drifted shut.

When the lock on the front door jiggled, she jerked awake, clutching the wooden futon frame.

Her mother crashed through the door. Giggling, she pulled a short, stocky man in after her. His gray blazer hung over a t-shirt that said:
My give a damn is busted.


Hey, Bee, don’t mind us.” Laughing again, she led the man upstairs.

Bianca ignored them, sitting up with her hands over her face. The faint memory of the apple trees filled her mind. She swore she could smell the sweet, earthy aroma. Shaking her head, she stood and stretched her arms. She must have been dreaming about it, although she couldn’t recall any details. Sighing, she climbed the stairs.

Something crashed inside her mother’s room. There were more giggles and a man’s deep chuckle. Bianca sighed. Keep it down for Christ’s sake. Disgusting. She went into her bedroom across the hall and shut the door.

 

 

 

 

The next morning, Levi returned to Lilly Avenue. He sat on a wooden bench at the edge of the park, located across the street and a couple of buildings down from the woman’s apartment. Several terra cotta pots formed a neat row across her front porch. A smile spread across his face, remembering his own garden at home. Hers was much smaller, of course, but she must have a green thumb.

He’d been sitting on that bench since eight o’clock, wearing a red baseball cap and sunglasses while pretending to read a book. Now, it was almost ten and the only thing he’d noticed was a middle-aged man stumbling out about an hour ago. Was it her father? The man looked nothing like her. Stepfather? Maybe. Boyfriend? He shuddered. Hopefully not. She deserved better.

A woman, pushing her child on the swing, gave him the stink eye. Looking back down at his book, a wave of embarrassment washed through him. He wasn’t going to be able to sit there much longer.

The door of her apartment opened and a small boy ran out followed by the red haired woman from yesterday.

Levi held the book up over his face, his eyes peering over the top of the pages. Who was the boy? Her son? His stomach dropped. If she was a mother there was no doubt who the curse would affect. It always went for the one you love most. He flipped the page of his book, not seeing any of the words. Of course, if she had a husband, it might go for him instead.

A cold breeze brushed over his arms, giving him goose bumps. He should’ve worn a jacket.

The boy skipped down the sidewalk and the woman walked along behind him, jogging at times to keep up. They were headed to the park.

He stood and almost tripped over a rock. Would she recognize him? He walked in the opposite direction. When he reached the safety of his truck, parked around the corner, he climbed inside. The only thing between them was the grassy baseball field and he continued to watch from the cab.

Hopefully, the curse wouldn’t go for the little boy. He hated the idea of being responsible for the downfall of anyone, however indirectly. But a child? That would crush him.

The boy climbed up the ladder to the slide. She stood behind him with her arms slightly extended, ready to catch him if he fell. When he made it to the top, he turned and gave her a huge grin. Her expression beamed and she gave him a high five.

Levi smiled at the scene, but he needed to come up with a plan. If she ate a red apple, he’d know for sure in a few more days. Should he tell her? If he didn’t, would she connect the events back to the orchard on her own?

They moved over to the sand pit, where a little girl played with a shovel. When the boy threw sand at the other child, the woman picked him up and carried him to the other side of the playground. He kicked and screamed, yet she remained calm, holding him until he cooled down. She was good with him.

His heart sank knowing what would happen. But only if she ate one of the red apples, he reminded himself. There was a chance they’d be fine. There was a chance.

 

 

W
hen they returned home from the park, Bianca set Owen down on the floor next to his toy trains and encouraged him to play.

She ran upstairs to change for work, smoothing out a wrinkle on the floral quilt as she passed her bed. This space was her sanctuary. The rest of the house may be a mess, but not this room. She smiled at the photos of her friends, the frames forming a straight line along the wall. On her dresser, a picture of her mother and Owen stood next to her hairbrush, while her father’s photo lay inside the top drawer, under her t-shirts. She couldn’t bear to get rid of it, but didn’t want to see it every day either. Her closed laptop sat on the nightstand. She gazed at it wistfully, wishing she had time to work on her blog.

Opening the dresser drawer, she took out her Papa’s Pizza uniform, a red logo tee and white pants. She cringed, hating the ugly carpenter-style pants, but yanked them on anyway.

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