Home Torn

  It was true. One minute, life was there and the next, there wasn’t anything different about the eyes. It was just a chill went over the body and it was just known—the soul wasn’t there anymore. She remembered that well.

  “It’s…” Dani whispered. “It’s not the eyes. Not really. It’s…everything. They stopped breathing. They stopped…moving, even the slightest twitches. Sometimes the fingers were the only thing that moved and I just knew, when I saw the little pinky finger go slack. I knew.”

  She’d never shared that before. Not even with herself. “Can we not…can we not talk about this anymore?”

  “Want to get piss drunk to forget it?”

  She already had. “It doesn’t work. It’s worse.”

  “Does it help having someone here?”

  “I think so.” Dani took a deep breath and looked up to his eyes. They sparkled in the moonlight. They were beautiful. He was beautiful. “Boone would hold my hand sometimes in the hospital.”

  “Did that help?”

  “Not really. I couldn’t get to sleep in the hospital. I just napped.”

  “Does napping help?”

  “No.” Nothing helped.

  Jonah stood up and held out his hand. “Come on.”

  She held her breath, but let him take her hand and pull her up.

  Jonah led the way into her bedroom and he pulled the bed covers back, their hands still entwined. Dani didn’t say anything, but went into the bathroom. After she was done, she padded barefoot into the bedroom and quietly slipped into some pajamas. The room was dark, but she knew some moonlight got through the cracks. When she was done, she stood at the side of the bed, uncertain.

  “Maybe this will help you tonight.”

  And it was enough. Dani crawled into the covers and a moment later, she was resting on her side with Jonah wrapped around her. He slipped an arm over her waist and their fingers entwined.

  Her heart beat. Once. And she asked, “Why are you doing this?”

  She felt his release as he let out a breath and murmured, against her neck, “I don’t really know.”

  She felt him press a kiss to her shoulder and felt his breath as he whispered, “Go to sleep.”

  Dani closed her eyes, felt his fingers tighten around hers, and welcomed the calmness.

  Waking up the next morning, Dani lifted herself gingerly and slipped out from underneath Jonah’s arm. With a quick glance, she saw it was six in the morning. They’d slept for a few hours. Not long, but enough for her. As she first went to the bathroom and then to the kitchen for coffee, Dani leaned against the counter.

  She hadn’t had the nightmares, but she’d dreamt of Erica instead.

  She dreamed that her little sister had come to stand at the end of her bed. She’d smiled, beautiful, and Dani remembered feeling the love from her sister. It was warming and it felt pure.

  When Erica had turned and left, that was when Dani woke up. And it was so weird because she almost cried when she opened her eyes and merely saw her empty room. No Erica.

  It had been real. It had been so real.

  “Hey.”

  Dani started and realized she hadn’t heard Jonah walk through the small hallway. He stood in the doorway and watched her.

  “Sorry,” she murmured.

  “Did you have a nightmare?”

  “No, I just woke up.”

  “Oh. It’s a little after six.” Jonah yawned as he raked a hand through his hair.

  “Yeah. Do you…do you work today?”

  “Later in the morning I’ll need to go in, but that’s not for a while. Come back to bed. We can sleep for a few more hours.”

  It sounded wonderful, but something… “Jonah, I…”

  Jonah waved her off. “I know.”

  She didn’t say anything more and followed him back to the bed. Jonah crawled in first and held the covers up for her as she slid in. He pulled her against his side, but stayed on his back. Within seconds, Dani heard the slow methodical breathing from him and knew he had fallen asleep. She stayed awake, but remained tucked under his arm. For the life of her, she couldn’t explain why.

  But she stayed there, in his arms, and she kept her eyes open. Just in case…

  She stayed in bed for a little longer, until Jonah wouldn’t be woken at her absence. She slid out from underneath, just like before, and dressed in her running clothes. After a quick run, she found him on the dock. She stopped a few yards from him. “I’ll stop here. Don’t wanna foul-odor you to death.”

  Jonah grinned and saluted with his cup. “Much appreciated, but I’m a man. I’ve smelled worse, guarantee.”

  “Don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you.”

  Jonah moved to sit on the end, his toes in the water, and he patted the seat next to him. There was enough room for two between the posts.

  “How far you go?”

  “Far enough.”

  Jonah shook his head. “How far?”

  “Twelve miles.”

  He whistled softly. “Must’ve run pretty hard to get back when you did.”

  “Think I was trying to run my problems out,” Dani admitted ruefully, taking a sip. He even sweetened it just right. Dani took another sip and kicked her feet lightly in the water. The water felt good, but that just meant the day was going to be a scorcher.

  “So what woke you this morning?” Jonah asked.

  Dani knew he’d been waiting the whole morning for that question. He hadn’t bought her lame ‘nothing’ then and he wouldn’t buy it now. She shrugged and replied, “Nothing.” She didn’t care if he bought it. She stared ahead, but Jonah stared at her.

  They were interrupted by an approaching boat.

  Jonah leaped to his feet. He waved and the boat veered towards them. A second later, Dani stood and saw Trenton Galloway grinning back at them, one hand over his eyebrows to help see against the rising sunlight.

  “Trenton Galloway works for you?”

  Jonah grasped the boat’s front and remarked, as he climbed inside, “I run the river. Everyone works for me, they just don’t know it.”

  “That’s my coffee cup.”

  Still holding the cup, he held Dani’s gaze and pushed off from the dock. He merely saluted her with the cup as Trenton Galloway gunned the engine, reversed, and sped back through the lake’s canal. The waves slowly melted and the lake shone smooth once more. A glass reflection from the blue ocean above.

  Good riddance and good hindrance. Dani took a deep breath as she held onto a steel post, the end of her dock. The floorboard creaked and protested as she shifted her feet. She’d never allowed Boone a window to her soul. The shutters were always drawn, but he’d never asked. She’d let Jonah share her bed, hold her hand, and comfort her.

  He’d done more than Jake and Boone combined.

  Dani shook off the unsettling thoughts and moved back inside. The coffee had been good, but she craved a tea. After a shower, a change, and a peruse through the rest of the contents of the kitchen—she knew another trip into town was needed. She’d bought enough for, at best, two days. She’d learned that in her travels.

  Driving out, Dani noticed a cow, most of its body was black with a white-tip nose, wandering in the ditch. One of Mrs. Bendsfield’s cows must’ve gotten free, it looked happy enough, and she turned into her driveway, speeding past the rest as they all lifted their pink noses in the air, testing for grain. Rounding the bend, Dani parked just before the garage. A small picket fence closed in a garden, greeting the house’s frontside. Except for a smattering of oil-streaked rags piled on the front porch, the house looked pristine and empty. She’d never been given a tour of the place, at least not the age to remember. Dani remembered visiting with her momma a few times, she mostly remembered the chocolate chip cookies. After her momma had passed, Mrs. Bendsfield was nice, but she’d never been on good terms with Aunt Mae.

  Not many of the upstanding citizens of Craigstown acknowledged a friendship with the owner of Mae’s Grill, one of the busiest bus
inesses in Craigstown. It didn’t matter. Her Aunt Mae’s background of boozing and floozing still set the precedence and so any friendship that might’ve been there would never see the sun of daylight.

  Aunt Mae never cared. Dani thought she actually preferred it because she could do what she wanted and say what she wanted. No one in their small town politics would frown or approve either way, but they would keep coming to Mae’s Grill. It was too popular among the tourists to have their politicians turn their backs.

  Mae had freedom that many never comprehended.

  But Mrs. Bendsfield was on the different side of the tracks. She wasn’t one of the upstanding citizens, but she wasn’t one of the ‘other’ citizens like Aunt Mae. Mrs. Bendsfield just lived in her own little world. The billboard, that everyone knew was supposed to proclaim her age by proclaiming the amount of cows she had, still hadn’t changed from the fifty-two Dani read the other day. She had an extra twenty that hadn’t made their mark. Dani wouldn’t hold her breath to see that billboard receive a fresh paint any time soon. And she’d have one less of her seventy-two if she didn’t find the hole in the fence. If one could get out, others could follow.

  “Hello? Mrs. Bendsfield?” Dani called out as she knocked on the loose screen door. It rattled in the doorframe with each knock so Dani was hesitant to knock harder. She didn’t want to bust through the seams on her first adult visit. Not hearing a response, she turned and walked to the backyard. Nothing. So, perusing one last walk-about to the back, Dani checked the garage and saw two vehicles inside. Mrs. Bendsfield’s van, adorning the world’s largest daisy—Dani saw it had just been given a fresh covering—still sat in its usual place. And the red Volkswagen was parked next to it, dust a foot thick.

  Not wanting to intrude in the house, Dani turned towards the barns.

  The shed was empty, only home to an antique tractor and grain bins.

  The main barn, sparkling from a fresh coat of red paint, was unlocked and Dani stepped inside. She found herself in the milking room, the aroma of drying milk filled the room, and she walked down the hallway to the next door. As she opened the door, a gaggle of kittens and cats scattered in every direction. They were quickly beyond eyesight. Inside, she was surprised because half of the barn’s interior had been renovated into a pottery studio. The left side still had the stalls where the cows moved into to be fed and milked.

  “Mrs. Bendsfield?” Dani called again, her voice echoed across the barn.

  “Huh? Who there?” Mrs. Bendsfield called back, her voice shrill.

  Dani couldn’t locate her, so she answered back, “It’s me, Mrs. Bendsfield. Dani O’Hara.”

  “What? What you say? I thought a moment you said Dani O’Hara, but that can’t be right. That girl’s been dead a long time.” The voice was still distant. With the echo, it was near impossible to pinpoint.

  “No. No, it’s me, Mrs. Bendsfield. I came back home.”

  “No, no. It’s me. I’m just fooling in the head again. Little Danielle O’Hara was taken by that cancer. I know because her mama came crying to me. Thirty-four back then.”

  Dani caught her breath. She hadn’t words voiced concerning her grandmomma her entire life. It had been an understood rule—no one talked about her grandmomma.

  Mrs. Bendsfield kept talking as she mused to herself. “Oh no. I know you’s in my head. Little Danielle O’Hara died long while back, left three rabbits behind and her mama just sobbed and sobbed. No one knows what to do. No one knows what to do. Little Danielle O’Hara was the minx and angel, I tell you. Half minx and half angel, that one. No one knows what to do.”

  Dani took a hesitant step forward. Crossing towards the pottery studio, she continued to hear Mrs. Bendsfield mutter. Her voice carried an echo. Dani realized the lady, possibly senile, was moving in a back room, amidst the pottery equipment, shielded by a large wall covered in heavy plastic.

  “I knows I’m just hearing my own voices. Memories, that’s what they are. Little Danielle O’Hara, always came around these parts. Just took a liking to Oscar, that she did. No one knows what to do, her mama always cried to me. Thought I was supposed to know what to do, but I didn’t. Clueless. Just like the rest of them! Oh no. That girl’s just back to haunt me. Always knew it was coming. Always knew it was coming.”

  Dani paused at the doorway and saw Mrs. Bendsfield’s petite figure bent over a pot that was as large as herself. It had already been carved with a delicate frame completing the top. Mrs. Bendsfield was circling with a paintbrush in hand, pausing sporadically to lean forward and make a dab. She added detail to an already detailed painting around the pot.

  The painting was beautiful.

  Dani saw herself staring into an oncoming ocean wave. And she suddenly felt, literally felt, the waves come rushing at her.

  Choking in a breath, she steeled herself. She felt the waves come crashing back, but just as she heard the first scream break out—”Danielle O’Hara?”

  Mrs. Bendsfield stood frozen, hand raised, clenching a small paintbrush.

  “Uh…” Dani blinked, pushing the memory away. “Mrs. Bendsfield, I came in because I saw—” She realized that Mrs. Bendsfield had painted waves on the pot. The flashback snapped back.

  “No.” Mrs. Bendsfield interrupted sharply. She waved the paintbrush at her, stabbing the air. “No! Do you know what you’ve been doing to me? Years of guilt, girl. Years of guilt and here you are, living, breathing, and part of my delusions. I want you out! Out!”

  “No. No. Mrs. Bendsfield, it’s me. Dani O’Hara. I’m Danielle’s daughter. I came in because I saw one of your cows got loose. One of them’s in the ditch.”

  Mrs. Bendsfield sniffed and crossed her arms. The paintbrush smeared paint across her face and arm, but she didn’t notice as she stared intensely at Dani. She circled Dani’s form, studying her from every angle. Then she murmured, “You’re the best damn delusion I’ve ever had. I must’ve had an extra dose of mushrooms in that last batch.”

  The lady wasn’t senile. She was high.

  “Mrs. Bendsfield, I am not a delusion and I am not my momma’s ghost here to haunt you. I am here because one of your cows got loose. A cow.”

  “Oh.” She waved the paintbrush in the air, sweeping a circle. “That’s GoldenEye. She wanted to go for a walk so I let her loose. Don’t worry. She’ll come back.”

  “Mrs. Bendsfield,” Dani tried.

  “No, no.” Mrs. Bendsfield turned back to her pottery and hunched down on her haunches. She returned to painting. “GoldenEye always comes back. Always has, always will. You can either take off or you can sit and entertain me a bit.”

  Dani sighed.

  “Oh, don’t get impatient with me. You’re my delusion.”

  Dani glanced back to the door, but sat on an empty chair in the corner. She’d never known that Mrs. Bendsfield knew her grandmomma. She wanted to know why her momma’s ghost would be haunting the senile potter.

  No one talked about her momma and no one talked about her grandmomma.

  Dani wanted to know why.

  “Why would I be haunting you?” Dani played the part.

  Mrs. Bendsfield sniffed self-righteously. “You know why. Don’t play that game with me. Not with me, girly ghost.”

  “I’m here and I’m haunting, but I don’t know why. I’d, at least like to know why. Call me amnesic.”

  Mrs. Bendsfield fixed her with another hair-raising stare. Then she shrugged, “Because you loved my Oscar and I wouldn’t have any of that.”

  Oscar Bendsfield was Mrs. Bendsfield’s son. He’d been missing for at least thirty years. The rumors had been told during campfires or sleepovers. He’d walked into the woods one night after a fight with his momma. He wanted to find his father, she didn’t. He’d left, swearing he’d find his father and never come back and he hadn’t. The moral had been to avoid empty threats, but some argued he hadn’t made an empty threat. He’d actually left and was still searching for his vagabond father. Others felt he’d gotten snat
ched and murdered. Still others always thought Mrs. Bendsfield had killed him in a rage; he dared defy her word.

  Dani always rolled her eyes every time she overheard the story. The story was inevitably followed by the same debate.

  It was a stupid story created by mommas to scare their children to keep from emotional blackmail.

  “Did he love me?” Dani asked, huskily, startled for not the