Page 71 of His Wounded Heart

“You guys haven’t cut into Simon’s birthday pie. What’s the matter with you two?” she asked as she came back into the dining room.

“We were waiting for you, Sis.”

Lizzie sat down, and I noticed her smile was strained.

“What’s up?” I asked as I cut her a slice of banana cream pie.

“Ned went by my apartment just to make sure everything was okay. He told me that my fridge conked out and the ice has melted all over the kitchen floor, and he could smell rotting fish.”

“He has a key to your apartment?” Simon asked.

“Yeah. I have one to his too. I’m so lucky to have someone that will look out for me like he does.”

“No wonder you look upset,” Mom said as she patted Lizzie’s hand.

“I’m going to have to leave tomorrow morning. I need to coordinate with the property manager to get a new fridge installed. Ned says I need to get them to pay for new flooring and all the contents of my fridge that were ruined. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“When am I going to meet this genius?” Mom asked.

“He said we would fly out around Thanksgiving.” Lizzie turned to me. “Do you think you could get some leave around then?”

“I’ll do my best, Lizzie.”

“Okay, everybody, dig in. After that, I’ve got a treat.” Mom said.

“What? Is it a birthday present for Simon?” Lizzie asked.

“Better than that.”

“What?” Lizzie was practically bouncing in her chair.

“What, you come home to Mom, and you revert to being a child?” I ask her. Then I turned to Mom. “You better tell her, or we’re not going to get any peace to enjoy our dessert.”

“Okay.” Mom smiles. “I bought two brand new pinochle decks of cards. This time, Lizzie, I expect the two of us to gang up on Simon so he doesn’t win, got it?”

“Mom, that’s not fair. It’s my birthday,” I protested.

“All’s fair in love and war.” Mom gives me a smile.

I leave my gun on the nightstand, but I know I’m going to take it with me today. Even in this small town, I feel better just having it with me. I grab my cell phone. Five oh nine. I grimace. Yep, that sounds right. I toss it back down.

I go to the bathroom for a quick shower, knowing that the hot water won’t last for long, but I need something to help put the dream behind me. Even when the water runs cold, I stay in, hoping the freezing water will shock my system enough so I’m fully in the present. When my body’s blue, I step out of the shower and look in the mirror.

Better.

I no longer look like a man who’s being hunted.

I dry off, and go put on warm clothes, even thick socks, though I don’t intend to leave the cabin for a while. Walking into the kitchen, I gravitate to my coffee beans and put more than normal into the grinder. I’m going to need extra coffee before I leave, and then some more for my thermos.

While the coffee brews, I walk toward the mantel; it’s as if there’s a magnetic pull and I have no choice. I stand in front of Mom and Lizzie’s picture. They’re both so beautiful with that same smile. Both of them have a slight overbite that makes it even more precious. I remember afterward mom demanding a picture of Lizzie and me. It’s somewhere in the storage unit of Lizzie’s stuff in Minneapolis. I need to find that picture and put that on the mantle, too. I remember how Lizzie was laughing in that one because I called her Lizard, like I did when she was five and I was fourteen. She used to write me the funniest letters when I joined the Navy. I’d read them to the other guys in my unit. Even at nine years old, she was a precocious little thing. I’m pretty sure that’s why I’ve taken such a shine to Bella.

Hmmm, this is the first time I even considered going to the storage unit since her death. When I packed and moved all of her shit alongside Ned’s cousin, I was a zombie. If someone asked me today what was in that storage unit in Minneapolis, I wouldn’t be able to tell them, but I know that picture has to be amongst her belongings.

The coffee is done, so I go to the kitchen and pour myself a cup. After the first sip, I open the fridge and pull out some fresh berries, then I make some oatmeal. I’ve finished my first cup of coffee just as the oatmeal is finished. I pop a few blueberries in my mouth before dumping a bunch of them on top of my bowl of oatmeal.

I put on my coat and shoes, then come back and pour another cup of coffee, grab my bowl of oatmeal, and head outside. I sit on the front stoop and smile. As much as it’s frustrating that I had another nightmare about the night Ned killed Lizzie, this is the first time I follow it up with a joyful memory. It was the last time Lizzie, Mom, and I were together when Mom was healthy. Those few days had been perfect.

Lizzie laughing.