Everything inside crashed and whizzed when I said it. Until Adrian I had a strict policy of keeping feelings to myself in a relationship, especially since mine always fell short of what the other person had for me.
“I was hoping you did.” He cupped the side of my face and his dimple creased. “Tree hugger.”
My laugh rang out. Before I could say anything he was close, then closer, and then his mouth was softer than I thought it would be. My stomach dropped the way it does on that first big roller coaster dip. His hand rested on my collarbone and I put my palm on his chest. When I felt his heart beating as fast as mine, I grabbed a fistful of shirt and pulled him closer. I didn’t recognize myself. This girl who grabbed shirts and nipped softly and would have done absolutely anything on that rock right then was new to me.
When we parted I could feel two spots of pink burning on my cheeks. My breathing was shallow. I was embarrassed that my desire was so apparent until I saw it on his face and in his unfocused eyes.
“Your hair is such a pretty color,” he said breathlessly. He rubbed a lock between his thumb and forefinger.
I shrugged. “It’s brown.”
He tilted his head to the trees. “No, it’s the color of oak leaves once they’ve fallen. They’re brown, but that red still lurks underneath. Russet.”
“Oh.” I liked having russet hair instead of brown.
Adrian poured cocoa. I leaned back and watched him. I wanted to kiss him again.
He looked up. “What are you thinking?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d ever kiss me,” I said, surprised I’d said it out loud.
“I wanted to, but I meant what I said before. I like you, and I don’t want to mess it up.”
He looked shy suddenly, but when his eyes met mine they were direct. I wondered how he could say what he felt without being terrified. Or, maybe he was but didn’t let it stop him. Maybe I could learn to do that too. He handed me a cup, and I blew on it to have something to do while I thought of something to say back. I remembered that he’d asked me what I was thinking.
“You won’t mess it up,” I said, with what felt like all the air in my lungs. “Not if you kiss me again.”
So he did.
***
Bits points at the two small buckets of tomatoes. “See? Lots of tomatoes!”
I laugh at the confused look on John’s face and come clean. “Peter was yapping about not being able to take Ana out to dinner, so I thought I could make it a romantic dinner without it being weird. The opportunity presented itself and was too good to pass up.”
“I had a feeling you guys were up to something,” Penny says, and looks at Nelly.
Bits’s smile gets wider as we talk. I’ve got at least one ally.
Nelly raises his hands. “Don’t look at me. I would’ve been much smoother.”
I may have no finesse, but it’s nice to think about somebody else’s love life besides my own.
“How about I make you all some P.B. and J at John’s?” I ask. “Just to tide you over until we go back.” Everyone groans at the thought of the meal at the cabin, which is as gourmet as it gets out here. “Oh, come on, it’s for love! You’ll still get your yummy dinner.”
Bits spins and sings the song from Sleeping Beauty. Nelly picks her up and waltzes her around. They follow me into the house grumbling, but love is in the air and the peanut butter sandwiches go down a lot easier than they expected.
CHAPTER 98
It’s a good thing I love the garden, because it feels like I should pitch a tent out here sometimes. If we’re not weeding, we’re watering or picking or mulching or drying or processing what we’ve picked. The tomato plants are pushing five feet tall and are laden with red and green globes. The melon patch smells sweet, and we’ve already had a few watermelons ripen. Nelly taught Bits how to spit the seeds, and she takes great pride in holding the world record. Cracking into the thick skin of the first watermelon was like a religious rite. Fresh fruit used to be something you grabbed at the store. Now it’s something you eat when it ripens and savor as best you can until next year.
All of us girls are in the garden picking beans. Bees crawl over every flower, enjoying the sunshine and getting ready for winter, just like us. The boys, as I think of them, have gone to find propane for the stove. I wanted to go, but then I wondered why I wanted to assist in picking up a two-hundred pound tank. I worry about them as I search among the tangled vines. I haven’t forgotten our last trip. That’s the real reason I wanted to go. I feel like if I’m there I can control things and make them come out all right, even though I know it’s an absolute fallacy.
I try to let my worry go. I’ve gotten better at letting things go in the past few weeks. I can’t make Adrian still love me, I can’t change the course of this virus, I can’t protect everyone I love, I can’t walk around with my nails digging into my palms from the stress of it all. But I can annoy Ana and Peter until they finally get together.
“So, Ana,” I say. “What’s going on with you and Peter?”
She goes very still. “Nothing.” She pulls back and looks at me, wide eyed. “I swear, Cassie.”
She thinks I’ll be mad. I’ve been going about this all wrong.
I put out a hand to stop her stammering. “Ana. Ana, it’s fine. I know you’ve had a crush on him for forever. And he likes you back, you know.”
He face relaxes and she bites her lip. “Oh. Do you think so?”
“I know so. I asked him.”
She dips her head, and her hair hides her face while she smiles. “You did? I thought maybe, a couple of times, that he might. Although, look at me.”
She points to her stained tank top and self-consciously runs a hand through her short hair. Her arms are covered in dirt and scratches, and she doesn’t have on a lick of makeup. She’s gorgeous.
“Ana, you know you’re beautiful. Your skin is a burnished gold and your hair is shiny.” She looks more upbeat as I continue. “Your hands are graceful and your bottom plump. You smell always of roses and—” She throws a bean at me, laughing. “No, but seriously, you don’t need any of that. He likes you and you like him.”
“And you’re okay with it?”
When it’s come to boys, Ana’s never cared who or what she goes through to get them.
“I insist. You two are driving me crazy. All those long looks and lingering touches. Ugh.” I pretend to puke and get hit by ten beans.
Bits comes tearing around the house. “They’re back and they have a surprise for everyone!” she yells, then turns and races back again.
The back of the pickup is full. There are two propane tanks strapped in the bed and a tangle of metal that I realize are bicycles and a rack. Bits squeals when she sees the purple one that’s hers. She hops on and rides around in circles.
“We got one for everyone,” John says. “There was a guy who fixed up bikes and sold them down in town. We’ll attach the rack to the van roof and keep a couple up there. This one here is yours, Cassie.”
He holds out a red bike. Penny looks from John to my face and bursts out laughing.
When everyone looks to see what’s so funny, she says, “Cassie can’t ride a bike.”
Six faces turn to me in disbelief. My face must be crimson. “I fall off bikes. I can get going, but then suddenly it all gets crazy and I go out of control.”
“Crazy?” Nelly smirks. I’m so glad my inadequacies are amusing to him. “Why am I not surprised?”
Bits makes another circuit. “It’s easy, Cassie,” she says. “Maybe you need training wheels until you get the hang of it, like I did.”
This comment elicits so much laughter that I find myself laughing too. I’ve always longed to hop on a bike and go breezing off somewhere, but I end up crashing. I don’t know what happens. One minute I’m fine; then the next I’m headed for the curb or a tree and I freak out.
“I can help you,” she continues. “I remember how.”
“Thanks, Bits,” I say, and st
ruggle to keep a straight face. “I’m going to need all the help I can get.”
***
My first bike lesson on the dirt road ends in the usual tragedy. I put my feet on the pedals and balance, but the front wheel strikes a rock, which makes the fork wobble, and I close my eyes and run into a ditch.
“Why are you afraid of the bike?” Peter calls out from the driveway as I lumber up.
I wonder how long he’s been watching. Bits stands next to him, my own personal cheerleader.
“Because it wants me dead,” I reply.
He laughs. I feel self-conscious with an audience that isn’t just Bits, so I walk the bike back.
“I taught Jane to ride,” he says. This is the third time he’s mentioned his little sister in the past month. In the entire year we were together he’d never even told me her name. “If a six year-old can do it, you can. Just remember this: the bike is your friend. The bike doesn’t want you dead.” He smiles at my look of doubt.
Of course the bike wants me dead, they all do.
“Now say it.”
I laugh. “No way.”
“Yes way. Say it, Cassandra.”
This will never work. I roll my eyes and say in my most sarcastic voice, “The bike is my friend. The bike doesn’t want me dead.”
“Good.” Peter pretends I’m not acting like a two year-old. “Now get on it. And don’t close your eyes. That’s what you’re doing, right?”
“How did you know?”
He winks at Bits. “My sister did the same thing. Now, go!”
I don’t want an audience. I’ll never be able to balance.
“You can’t look,” I say. “Close your eyes.”
Bits giggles, and Peter bends down so she can cover his eyes. “Okay. I can’t see.”
I get back on. The bike picks up speed, and right away I feel like I’m out of control, but I fight the urge to close my eyes and land in a relatively safe heap. I grip the handlebars and keep going. The wind kicks up my hair and cools my neck. This must be why people ride bikes. It beats the shit out of running. When I’ve gone a ways, I stop and turn the bike by walking it. I’m not about to attempt what seems like some sort of daredevil maneuver, even though Bits and probably every other seven year-old in the world can do it, and I head back.
My eyes are trained on the road, and only when I hear whistles and cheers do I look up. Bits is too busy clapping to cover Peter’s eyes any longer, and they both watch my approach. I brake in front of them, feeling both extremely proud of myself and like the world’s biggest dork at the same time.
“I can ride a bike!” I say. “Sort of.”
“You did great!” Bits says. “We’ll practice together!”
Her eyes are so sincere that I bend down and give her a kiss. “Thanks for the advice,” I say to Peter. “It worked. Now, if only you’d take mine.”
“I will, Cassandra. If you’ll stop bugging me about it.”
“Done and done,” I say.
But we both know I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. He stares at me sternly, but his mouth twitches, and I stare back until he cracks a smile. I salute them both and head to the house on my bike. I don’t fall once.
CHAPTER 99
The sun hides behind dark clouds, but I wake at dawn, as usual. Rain means there’s less to do, so we can sleep in. I once thought eight in the morning was early and eleven was reasonable on weekends. I decide to try for eight this morning. I bury myself under the covers, but after a few minutes I sigh and give up.
“I used to get home at this time after a night out, not wake up,” Nelly complains.
He has one arm under his head as he looks out the window. I stretch my arms and point my toes. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did. My body’s gotten used to all this exercise.
He snaps out of his reverie. “That’s two nights with no nightmares, right?” he asks.
I nod. “How did you know?”
“I tend to notice being pummeled and woken up by screaming most of the time. So, I also tend to notice when I’m not.”
I kick him under the blankets. He yelps and moves his legs. My feet are freezing, even in the summer. Adrian always let me tuck my icy feet under his thighs. He would clench his teeth and smile while I sighed with contentment.
“I think the nightmares are gone. At least for the time being.” I can’t say why that’s the case, but I’m pretty sure it is. I’m starting to feel like me again.
I throw back the covers and grab clothes. When I open my top drawer, I see the glint of silver and pick up the ring. It’s warm in my palm. I place it on the bathroom sink, and when I’m dressed I slip it in my pocket. That’s where it belongs since it makes me happy. No matter what happens. I pat it gently and head out to make breakfast.
***
The cutthroat game of Monopoly has ended, and we all sit around, listening to the rain pelt down on the metal roof when there’s a crash in the kitchen.
Penny stands among the remnants of a bowl. “Shoot. Sorry, Cass.”
I keep telling her that this is her house, too, but I know she feels bad about breaking something of my parents’.
“Please, Pen, it’s fine. Hey, remember when I broke your mom’s vase?”
We were twelve and I’d been showing Penny some goofy dance move I’d made up. Penny grins, remembering how when Maria came home she wasn’t angry. She put on music, asked me to show her the move, then proceeded to do it around the house while we laughed our asses off.
If only she were here or we knew she were safe. My fear is reflected in Penny’s eyes before she turns her gaze back toward the smashed crockery. When she looks up, her smile is back.
“This is such a movie day,” she sighs. “Most of the time I don’t miss TV, but on a day like today…”
“A movie,” Bits says. She looks like someone’s just offered her a trip to the moon. “I wish we could watch a movie.”
John laughs. “Well, ladies, had I known how desperate the situation had gotten, I would’ve said something sooner. Why don’t we watch a movie at my place while we run the genny?”
We allow ourselves almost no excess electricity. The generator stays at John’s and runs the freezers for a few hours a day to keep things frozen. It powers the radio and washing machine, charges batteries and tools. Gasoline is a very finite resource, and we want enough to last us through the winter.
“Yes!” Bits shouts, and throws her arms around John’s neck.
She’s become so demonstrative in recent weeks. I’ve been the recipient of at least a thousand butterfly kisses. And while her nightmares haven’t disappeared, they don’t come as often. She trusts us so completely it terrifies me we’ll fail her somehow.
“Well, we definitely shouldn’t make any popcorn,” I tease.
She grins. “Caa-ssie! Yes, we should! And my Barbies and your dog have to come, too.” She races down the hall to retrieve the toys she’s started playing with again.
“Wow,” Nelly says. “That kid really needs a movie, huh?”
When The Princess Bride ends, we all sigh. Spending time in another world really was like taking a trip to the moon. I could watch movies for a week straight.
“Well, it’s about time for the seven o’clock broadcast,” John says.
We eat the remaining popcorn while we wait. I steel myself for Adrian’s voice, even though I know it’s unlikely, but it’s just Matt, running down the list of Safe Zones, and one’s missing.
“The Safe Zone outside of Allentown, Pennsylvania has been compromised,” he reports. “The survivors described a pod of Lexers several hundred strong. Their exact losses are unknown but very high. Some survivors are reported to be in the Safe Zone in Starlight, Pennsylvania.”
He reminds us that pods of this size could mean a change in the habits of the infected. The report ends a minute later. I guess even Matt, who seems to have taken a real shine to being a radio personality, doesn’t have the energy to be cheerful.
“
Okay,” John says. His mouth turns down. “We need to start working on fortifications tomorrow.”
I try to imagine the group of Lexers we ran into at the Radio Shack times nine.
“We could never fight off that many, either,” I say.
“Nope,” John replies. “That’s why we have the van.”
Any magic the movie left behind has evaporated by the time we head back. Bits holds my hand and waxes on about Princess Buttercup. At least she’s still happy, and I want her to stay that way. The thought of her, alone, defenseless, makes me grip her hand tight.
“Ouch!” she says.
I loosen my hand. “Sorry, honey.” But it’s all I can do not to tighten it again, I’m so worried.
CHAPTER 100
John distributes ammo to each of our backpacks in the van. He has some MREs, and with the remaining ones from Sam’s Surplus, we have food for a few days.
“Yuck,” Penny says, when I stick some in each bag.
John smiles. “Ah, they’re not so bad. You should see what they used to feed us in Vietnam. It tasted a lot worse and weighed a ton, too.”
“But they had cigarettes in them back then, didn’t they?” James asks longingly, wheeling a bike over. He hasn’t had any since his last pack.
“They did, and that was the best thing about them.” John helps James lift the bike up.
“Well, they should give extra combat pay based on the food alone,” Penny says. She adds another sleeping bag to the back. “I think that’s it.”
John laughs. “James, I need help with the shutters. We’ll cut ‘em at my place and drive over.”
Locking the bike down, James says, “Sure thing, boss.”
While they work on the shutters, I work on letters for the Message Tree. I write a new one to Henry Washington, telling him we’ll be in Vermont if we’re not here. I remember how I thought I was lucky that I had no children to keep safe. And now that I do, I see I was right. There’s the fear I’ll have to watch her die, and, possibly even worse, that I’ll die and she’ll suffer some horrible fate scared and alone. I think of small, serious Hank and work hard to imagine him full of life instead of shambling and rotting in the woods somewhere.