looking for it. “I'm not going to call some guy,” Beth's eyes never leave the road, “and wake him up because you need to get some book from his son who doesn't even live there.”
“Don't tell him that,” Jayne blurts. “I need the book for his class in the morning.”
“I thought you didn't have class on Fridays.”
“This is a special project.” Jayne flushes crimson. Beth knows that Jayne doesn't have class on Friday and isn't in any special projects. She's waiting Jayne out to see if she'll spill. “I know his dad's awake; he's a night owl. We can Skype him anytime we need help in class.”
“Then Skype him.” Beth smirks as she pulls up next to Jayne's truck.
Jayne's groan turns into a growl. “I can't ask him for Casey's address. If Johnny found out, he'd flip.”
Beth looks at her swollen eyes and grimaces. She reaches for the phone and pauses. “If I do this, you have to promise that you won't let that bastard hit you again.”
I'm shocked.
Jayne's silent.
“It's not what you think,” Jayne murmurs.
“To hell, it's not. I've been there and it's no way to start a relationship. Especially if you plan on moving in with him,” Beth says as Jayne looks down into her lap, feigning interest in the backs of her hands. “What's his number?”
Jayne pulls out her cell and scrolls through her contacts until she finds his number and recites it.
“What do you want me to ask him?”
“I don't know. Pretend you're Casey's girlfriend and you're looking for his house.”
Loud music blasts through the phone as the call connects and his dad’s giddy voice comes through the line.
“Hello?”
“Hi. I'm l-looking for Casey's house.”
“Pardon?” His voice deepens until he sounds more like a professor than a frat boy.
“I'm trying to find Casey's house, but I lost his address.”
“This is his father.”
“Oh, I'm sorry.” Beth let's out a heavy breath. “I was supposed to get him a funeral plan. I'm just having such a hard time with this.” She squeaks and bites her bottom lip.
“I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have a pen?”
He gives us the address and hangs up. Jayne stares down at the scrap of paper in her hands, eyes dancing in the moonlight.
“You sure this is only about a book?”
“You're the best,” Jayne replies, avoiding the question.
<><><>
West Haven Drive is in a secluded neighborhood on the outskirts of town, lined with swamps and willows and a freshly painted fence that looks like it's part of a horse corral. Jayne slows and creeps down the road until we come to a looming Victorian – her favorite. Though the house should be well on its way to being demolished from its sheer age alone, it looks new. Casey had taken care with each piece of this house from the newly built porch steps to the fresh, white paint on the trim.
Jayne turns off the truck and settles back into her seat, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. The look of contentment on her face makes me crack into a huge grin. She thinks of me.
“Isn't that the perfect tree for a tree house?” she asks, pointing to a large Oak in the front yard. I laugh and squeeze her hand, wishing she could feel it. “And look at the barn in the back.” She crosses her arms over the steering wheel and rests her chin on them. “Did you know Casey was a cowboy? He doesn't dress like one.”
He's not; he just enjoys hard work.
She looks over at me and smiles. For a split second I think she can see me.
This is perfect, Jayne. You belong here.
Her skin crackles with energy and I know it's going to be okay to leave her here. With Casey, inside his fairytale.
Fourteen
6:55a.m.
Johnny waits on the front porch tapping his foot impatiently. He's a ticking time bomb and he's ready to explode. He's five minutes early and Jayne's alarm clock hasn't even gone off yet. Everyone in the house is asleep and no one heard the light raps on the door. When Jayne's phone finally beeps, she rips herself out of bed,
“Don't tell him that,” Jayne blurts. “I need the book for his class in the morning.”
“I thought you didn't have class on Fridays.”
“This is a special project.” Jayne flushes crimson. Beth knows that Jayne doesn't have class on Friday and isn't in any special projects. She's waiting Jayne out to see if she'll spill. “I know his dad's awake; he's a night owl. We can Skype him anytime we need help in class.”
“Then Skype him.” Beth smirks as she pulls up next to Jayne's truck.
Jayne's groan turns into a growl. “I can't ask him for Casey's address. If Johnny found out, he'd flip.”
Beth looks at her swollen eyes and grimaces. She reaches for the phone and pauses. “If I do this, you have to promise that you won't let that bastard hit you again.”
I'm shocked.
Jayne's silent.
“It's not what you think,” Jayne murmurs.
“To hell, it's not. I've been there and it's no way to start a relationship. Especially if you plan on moving in with him,” Beth says as Jayne looks down into her lap, feigning interest in the backs of her hands. “What's his number?”
Jayne pulls out her cell and scrolls through her contacts until she finds his number and recites it.
“What do you want me to ask him?”
“I don't know. Pretend you're Casey's girlfriend and you're looking for his house.”
Loud music blasts through the phone as the call connects and his dad’s giddy voice comes through the line.
“Hello?”
“Hi. I'm l-looking for Casey's house.”
“Pardon?” His voice deepens until he sounds more like a professor than a frat boy.
“I'm trying to find Casey's house, but I lost his address.”
“This is his father.”
“Oh, I'm sorry.” Beth let's out a heavy breath. “I was supposed to get him a funeral plan. I'm just having such a hard time with this.” She squeaks and bites her bottom lip.
“I'm sorry to hear that. Do you have a pen?”
He gives us the address and hangs up. Jayne stares down at the scrap of paper in her hands, eyes dancing in the moonlight.
“You sure this is only about a book?”
“You're the best,” Jayne replies, avoiding the question.
<><><>
West Haven Drive is in a secluded neighborhood on the outskirts of town, lined with swamps and willows and a freshly painted fence that looks like it's part of a horse corral. Jayne slows and creeps down the road until we come to a looming Victorian – her favorite. Though the house should be well on its way to being demolished from its sheer age alone, it looks new. Casey had taken care with each piece of this house from the newly built porch steps to the fresh, white paint on the trim.
Jayne turns off the truck and settles back into her seat, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. The look of contentment on her face makes me crack into a huge grin. She thinks of me.
“Isn't that the perfect tree for a tree house?” she asks, pointing to a large Oak in the front yard. I laugh and squeeze her hand, wishing she could feel it. “And look at the barn in the back.” She crosses her arms over the steering wheel and rests her chin on them. “Did you know Casey was a cowboy? He doesn't dress like one.”
He's not; he just enjoys hard work.
She looks over at me and smiles. For a split second I think she can see me.
This is perfect, Jayne. You belong here.
Her skin crackles with energy and I know it's going to be okay to leave her here. With Casey, inside his fairytale.
Fourteen
6:55a.m.
Johnny waits on the front porch tapping his foot impatiently. He's a ticking time bomb and he's ready to explode. He's five minutes early and Jayne's alarm clock hasn't even gone off yet. Everyone in the house is asleep and no one heard the light raps on the door. When Jayne's phone finally beeps, she rips herself out of bed,
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