Chapter 5

Five

                Riley jogged out to grab the mail for his grandparents. He stopped in the middle of the driveway and flipped through it. Junk, more junk, something possibly interesting…

            “Riley!”

            Riley looked across the street where a young woman stood in running shorts and a headband and mentally groaned. “Hi, Mae.”

            She walked toward him with a big smile. “Hey, you know, it can be a little boring out here in the country. If you ever need anything exciting to do I’m right across the street. And I’m free every night except Saturdays.” There was a gleam in her plain brown eyes.

            Way too obvious. Riley forced a smile. “Thanks.” He turned and continued on up the driveway. He was here to help his grandpa build his barn, not give some woman something exciting to do in the country.

            Dropping the mail on the kitchen counter, he went to the bookshelf on the far end of the kitchen and grabbed a cookbook. Snagging the nearest chair, he plopped down and started looking through it. He’d told Grams he’d make dinner tonight. Now he just needed to find something to make. She’d said something preferably with chicken. Fine, he was good with chicken. Fried chicken… Nah. Too plain. Stuffed chicken… too much work. Finally he found something interesting. He would make noodles with chicken gravy. That would please her and maybe Gramps as well. Maybe he’d think he wasn’t such a lazy guy anymore. And if he still did… well, Riley didn’t really care what Gramps thought.

At promptly 6:00, they sat down to eat a meal of noodles with chicken gravy, peas, and homemade buttered bread.

            “This is delicious, Riley!” Grams exclaimed as soon as she had swallowed her first bite. “I think you must cook just about as well as me.” There was a twinkle in her eyes.

            Riley smiled at her and opened his mouth to say something when Gramps said, “A man who works in the kitchen is no man at all. Cooking is woman’s work.”

            Riley stuffed a bite in his mouth to keep from replying. Fine. If Gramps didn’t like him cooking he wouldn’t. Not because Gramps said no, but because it would create less problems, and it would enable him to be able to live with the old grouch. His level of tolerance only reached so high. When dinner was finished he would help Grams clean up, since he had made the mess, then he would disappear upstairs while his Gramps listened to his radio. Grams would settle in her old rocker and work on some knitting or some old lady thing like that. But Riley couldn’t stand to just sit around after dinner doing nothing, so he wouldn’t. He would go upstairs and write a letter to his mother, or maybe Bethanie, and if nothing else interested him, maybe he’d go for a run. Or maybe he could get a book from the limited amount of them that Grams and Gramps had around the house. He was going to go crazy here soon. He wasn’t used to having free time such as this. In Kentucky he kept himself busy almost all day with work, social life, anything to keep him occupied. Here, there was nothing. If he wanted to chat or hang out, he had Gramps or Gran. Or, of course, Mae. But he would spend time with her only when she was the last person on earth. Austin’s and Amy’s house was a good twenty-five minutes away, maybe more. Who he wouldn’t mind spending some more time with was Bailee. He knew that she had no guy interested in her, but why ever not he didn’t know. She was cute. And intriguing. He wanted to know what Austin had meant about her suffering heartache. He liked the way her short brown hair framed her face, her big brown eyes surrounded with long, black lashes. What he would like best is to be able to see her more often, convince her that spending time with him was good. He wasn’t sure how she felt about him, only that she really wasn’t interested. But he had a feeling he could make her be. He was sure.

            Bailee ate a quick dinner of warmed up leftovers, then headed to Ava’s and Dillon’s. Arriving, she knocked once, and then let herself in. She could hear Phoebe chattering about something, and she realized that they were eating dinner. Well, she probably could’ve waited and come when they were finished, but it was too late now. Although, by the volume with which their little girl was speaking, she doubted they had even heard her knock or come in. Kicking off her shoes she headed to the dining room and poked her head in. “Hi, guys.”

            Phoebe immediately smiled and pointed at her. “Auntie Lee-Lee! Come! Come!”

            Bailee smiled and kissed her cheek covered in something orange— squash— Bailee guessed. “Hi, munchkin.” Straightening, she said, “Hi, Dillon. Ava, I’m just gonna head on back.”

            “Ok.” Ava reached over and scooped some more squash onto Phoebe’s spoon, since she seemed to be having trouble.

            Bailee left them to their dinner and headed to the room at the very back of the hallway—her studio. She had always wanted to have her own private studio, but her parent’s house had had no extra rooms, and Kylie’s apartment didn’t have any extra room. So, when Ava and Dillon moved into this house, they graciously offered her one of the two extra rooms for her studio. She came here quite often, at least once a week, most of the time more.

Entering the studio, she breathed in the fragrance of paint, canvas, and a slightly musty smell. She loved the way her room smelled. The room was large and spacious, with two large windows allowing her plenty of natural light. Of course, except when it got dark. Then, she had many, many lights in here to make it bright. A dark studio was something that she couldn’t deal with.

She closed the door behind her, then crossed the room to her easel. She pulled the sheet off of it and set it aside, then pulled her apron from a hook on the wall. She prepared everything. It didn’t take long. The only thing she had to go out for was to fill her bucket with water. Her paints were out and set in rows by colors. Her paintbrushes were spread out and categorized by types. Her canvas was on the easel. Now, where was her inspiration? It was usually there. It was usually crowding her with a vibrant picture loud in her mind, only quieting when she retreated to her studio and created it. But today it was silent. Today, her mind was empty. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, letting her thoughts dissipate. It would come if she let it. Don’t think, don’t think. Simply relax…

Aha! There it was, taking shape, a picture in her mind. But this time it wasn’t bright and vibrant. This time it was quiet and somber, a reflection of her mood. Then, while the pictures were still fresh in her mind, she picked up her brush and palette, letting the images flow from her heart, to her mind, to her hand, transpiring onto the canvas in a voice of blended colors and emotion. She didn’t stop till she was finished, and when she was done she stepped back, exhausted. This always tired her. It was like a part of her being let out and described on the canvas; it was her passion.

She studied the canvas. It satisfied her. It looked good. The picture would always remind her of the scare she had today from Andrew, the panic he’d created. It had a touch of anger from seeing the little girl mistreated at the store.

She bundled up her paints and put them away, then did the same with her brushes, taking special care to not ruin the bristles. After emptying her bucket of now dirty water, she returned to her painting and studied it for one final moment before storing it in her portfolio. Finally, she removed her apron and hung it back up on the hook, then covered the easel back up. She was finished and everything looked like it had when she arrived. It was ready for her next inspiration. She smiled and softly left the room. She didn’t have to worry. She knew that Ava and Dillon would leave the room alone. Her sacred haven. They had promised, and Bailee knew they would keep their word.

No one had ever seen her paintings except Miles. Maybe no one else ever would. It was better they didn’t; she liked it that way. It was the way she let out her feelings, and it would feel wrong to share them with others. Miles was the one who had encouraged her in her painting, the one who’d made her keep going even when everything had made her want to give it up. He was the reason she was still painting today.

She waved goodbye to Ava and Dillon and then left, surprised that it was already 9:00. She had stayed later then she had meant to. Kylie would be home, and she would want to know about Bailee’s day. And Bailee would share about Andrew, because he really had scared her, and she wanted Kylie to know the true nature of the man. Arriving home, she entered the little apartment and smelled something like burnt bread. Kylie had tried to make dinner and failed, apparently.

“Kylie?” She called as she kicked of her shoes. She peered into the sink, but didn’t see any dirty dishes. At least Kylie had cleaned up some.

“Back here, Bailee. How was your day off?”

Bailee leaned against the doorframe of Kylie’s bedroom. Sure enough, Kylie was eating a burnt—very burnt—grilled cheese sandwich. “Um, ok I guess. Andrew stopped by.”

Kylie looked up, surprised. “He did? What for?”

Bailee told her why and what had happened. By the time she finished Kylie had a half horrified half grieved expression on her face. “I thought he was such a nice guy.” Kylie gave Bailee a hug. “Poor sis. Are you gonna be fine? Should I call him?”

Bailee gently untangled herself from her sister. “No. Don’t do that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Kylie. Positive. Please do not do anything. He may not come back. I may have read more into what he was saying then what there really was.” You know me, always freaking out, always panicking. She could imagine Kylie thinking the same thing, but, being the sweet sister she was, she wouldn’t say anything.

Bailee turned and started to go out when Kylie called her name.

“Did you pray about it?” Kylie asked softly, tentatively.

“No. Don’t plan to either.” Bailee left without another word and closed herself in her bedroom. What Kylie wanted to do with God and prayer was fine, but she wasn’t going to back Bailee into a corner about it. When she had been little, back when Mom was alive, she had gone to church. Professed to be saved, even. Eventually it had slipped, mainly once Mom died. Now, it seemed prayer was pointless. God did what he wanted, regardless of her pleas and petitions. Talking to him did nothing, and honestly, he really didn’t seem to care one way or the other about people.

Kylie watched her sister’s back disappear, and then knelt by her bed. Bailee was hurting, she knew, but weren’t they all? And what better way to deal with the hurt and sorrow then to give it to God and let him hold you? She didn’t understand why Bailee pulled away. She couldn’t understand why people didn’t want to love God, didn’t see him the way she did.

Dear God, please, please, let Bailee see your love. Let her want you, God. I’m trying to help her see, but I can’t on my own. You know what it’s like to lose someone, you lost your son, but, for goodness’ sake, it’s been almost seven years since Mom died. She needs to heal. Just please give her your presence.

She stood, knowing her prayers would have results. Someday. It was just hard to keep praying, wanting, and never seeming to see any progress.

…“Mommy!” Bailee screams. She runs around in the house, looking everywhere, but can’t find her. The house is like one big, scary maze, and Mommy isn’t anywhere. Suddenly a giant shadow stares over her. “Mommy!”

Daddy’s growl surrounds her, and his red eyes show slivers of hate. “You want your Mommy?” He hauls her over his arm while she screams, walking through pathway after pathway of the house, suddenly coming upon a room that smelled horribly strong of the odor of death and fear. Daddy dropped her and she tumbled to the ground rolling against something. She turns to see what it is and gasps, her shrieks making Daddy laugh with menace…

Bailee jerked awake, her palms sweating and her heart beating at a fast and erratic pace. No! It’s not true… it didn’t happen that way.

“Bailee. Calm down.” Bailee drew a deep breath and forced herself to relax. Swallowing hard she closed her eyes. The image danced behind her eyelids with a terrifying clarity. Her eyes flew open and she sat up, suddenly shivering. She buffed her arms. “No. Mom didn’t die that way. She didn’t look like that…” Even though her eyes were open, the pictures came before her again… Mom lying there with eyes wide, though lifeless while rats ate at her flesh.

Bailee looked around the room for something—anything—that she could put her mind on. Her gaze caught the dusty Bible sitting on her desk that she hadn’t touched in several years. She was almost tempted to get it, but stopped herself in time. It was God that had put her here in the first place. God who had left them in this mess. It was his fault, and she wasn’t going to forgive him. Ever.

A lump formed in her throat while a tear trickled down her cheek. “I miss you, Mom…”

Bailee pulled up to the gas pump, hurrying to fill her car. She was running late this afternoon, and if she didn’t fill this in about two seconds, she was going to be beyond late for work. She stood lost in thought while the gas flowed into her car, when she suddenly heard her name being called. She turned for the source and saw Riley filling up a truck on the next set of pumps. He smiled, and she saw his dimples, even from back here. It did something to her, but she ignored the feeling and returned the smile. “Hi, Riley. Did you need something?”

“Uh, well. Not really.” He paused. “Hey, wanna catch a late lunch?”

Bailee shook her head and removed the nozzle, setting it back in its pocket. “No, thanks. I got to get to work.”

“Dinner?”

“No, thank you.”

“Why?”

Why? Because I hardly know you? Because I don’t want to be involved. Because—“Because I just don’t.”

“That’s not a reason.”

She just looked at him.

“Give me a good reason and I’ll back off.”

“Ok.  A good reason? I hardly know you.”

“And?”

“And I don’t want to go out with you.” There. She’d said it.

He actually looked hurt, which made her feel slightly guilty. She almost wanted to relent, but instead looked back to the pump and paid.

“Well… Ok. Another time.”

She nodded but when she turned around he was hidden behind his truck. She climbed in her car and pulled out. She really hadn’t tried to hurt him or make him feel bad, but he had put her in a hard spot. Not knowing him wasn’t really the major reason she hadn’t wanted to go out with him, just the one she was willing to say. The other reason was a surprise even to her, and she would have never said it to him. She had mostly said no because she knew that if she went she would enjoy being with him, and he would end up thinking it was something more than it was. Plus, she would be tempted to break her pact with Kylie to not date. That was the thing that surprised her the most. She’d never felt that way with any guy.

Riley leaned against his truck and listened to her leave the station. Ok, so that hadn’t gone so well. Fine. He would try another time. Today wasn’t even on his schedule to see her; it had just been an added bonus to find her at the same gas station he was at. He would find a way to go out with her. Somehow. Suddenly, a thought struck him. He chuckled softly and pulled out his phone wondering why he hadn’t thought of it before.

Bailee left work, worn out as usual. She enjoyed working with the kids, but they always tired her out. She reached home and debated about what to make for dinner. Kylie would be home soon and could help her decide, but she wanted to have it started right away. Finally she chose spaghetti, but before she could even get out a pot, her phone started ringing. She checked the caller id before answering.

“Hey, Amy. What’s up?”

“Hi, Bailee. What do you think about going out? With me… and Austin and some of his friends? Kylie could come too.”

Bailee really wanted nothing more than to make dinner and then curl up on the couch and relax. “I don’t know about tonight, Amy. I’m pretty tired.”

“Oh, come on, Lee-Lee. You’re turning into an old maid. We’re just going out for dinner. Nothing fancy.”

Bailee sighed. Did she really have to? No, but if she didn’t she would never hear the end of it, and she really did enjoy spending time with Amy and Austin. “Fine.”

“That’s a girl. Is Kylie home yet?”

“No, but she will be anytime.”

“Ok, well you two can meet us at Ed’s in, um, let’s say, thirty minutes. That sound good?”

“That should be fine.” Bailee hung up and exhaled. She’d been tricked into going out. Maybe Kylie would be sick and wouldn’t be able to come. Of course, then Bailee would still be expected to go.

She sighed again, louder. She wondered if there was any way she could plead sickness to keep from going. She didn’t want to go out tonight. She didn’t want to see people tonight. She wanted to make her spaghetti like she was planning on and then sit and read her book. Or take a bath. Not go out in the world and act like the happy social bug that she wasn’t.

But Ed’s Burritos really did tempt her. That was a place that was rather hard to resist.

Kylie came in. “It’s warm outside! Bailee, did you feel how nice it was outside?” She slipped off her shoes and threw her bag on the couch. “Hey, what’s for dinner?”

Bailee waved a hand. “Ed’s Burritos . Be ready in thirty minutes.”

“Ooh, sounds fun.” Kylie smiled. “With who? Amy?”

Bailee nodded, unenthused.

They were ready with time to spare, but they went ahead and left anyway, arriving at the restaurant several minutes early. After waiting for seven minutes, Bailee saw Austin’s car pull in. Bailee wondered who all would be here. Amy hadn’t said, only that Austin and some friends were coming. She watched from the window of the restaurant as they got out of the car, watching as Austin, Amy, and Blake get out. Her eyes widened with something far from pleasant surprise as she watched the last person get out. He saw her looking from the window and gave her a triumphant smile.