The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds as neither said a word.
… six.
… seven.
… eight.
… fifteen.
“I’m going to head out,” Jack began hoarsely, his throat working. “If you need something, I’m right next door and…”
“She’ll be okay,” Heidi promised, but neither of them knew that. Nothing was ever guaranteed in life, a lesson she’d learned very well herself. Jack nodded, hesitated, and then gave her a tired, quick smile, picking up his plate.
“I’ll wash it and bring it over tomorrow – if she asks.”
Nodding, Jack moved away from the table and quickly left the house, leaving Heidi there, alone, with her now-tasteless and cooling dinner. Mimi had gone to bed, Jack had left, and she should be going to bed also – and couldn’t. She kept staring at the front door of the house, her mind rolling with thoughts and questions that couldn’t quite form a coherent idea just yet… except she was alone.
Again.
But it doesn’t have to be like that…a quiet voice said from somewhere deep within – and she moved. Heidi picked up her plate and fork, making her way toward the front door, her body aching with every step she took, as her soul thrummed with a need for comfort, for companionship… for Jack.
The moon was high in the sky, and she had never really paid attention to how dark the world was when that blanket of stars covered the world. A single lamppost in the distance marked the stop sign, and the crickets were humming out their steady rhythm, making her again feel small, unimportant. Life went on, but it was in these quiet moments thatmade you feel alone, yet peaceful… which was almost unsettling until she heard his voice.
“You okay over there?”
Jack.
He stood on the old wooden wraparound porch of his house that was in dire need of a good paint job – and she almost told him as much. Instead, she stepped in the grass, one foot right in front of the other, carrying her plate like this was an everyday occurrence.
“Everything is fine,” she replied simply. “Mimi is already snoring – and eating alone is against the natural order of things, or don’t you country boys know that…” her words trailed off just in time to catch his light chuckle of amusement that kept propelling her toward him. “Laugh all you want, but I’m not eating alone.”
“Kinda sticks in your craw, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know what a ‘craw’ is, but yes…” she admitted, taking the steps to the porch one at a time as she watched his shadowy frame move a little closer to a chair, scooting it noisily forward toward her. “I'd better not get a splinter from that chair.”
“If you do, I’ll get the tweezers.”
“You’re not touching my butt with a pair of tweezers.”
“I never said I’d be getting the splinter – just the tweezers.”
“Hmm,” she replied – and sat down in the rocking chair, holding her plate in front of her, and picked up her fork to take another bite… only to hear his own chair move closer. “I guess we’ll eat in the dark.”
“We should, unless you want bugs trying to land on you.”
“It could land in my dinner,” she countered, hesitating with awareness and holding her fork before her as he chuckled softly in the dark beside her.
“Then you’d never see it – and I hear it’s protein.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Then why are you here?”
His softly spoken question was followed by the sound of his fork scraping his own plate as he took a bite. Her eyes were getting used to the darkness, the shadows, and she inserted her own bite in her mouth, chewing pensively instead of answering him.
“Your car is ready,” he said simply, his voice low as his fork scraped against the stoneware plate once more.
“How much do I owe you?”
