Page 22 of Lightning in a Mason Jar
Two weeks after school resumed, Keith landed in the principal’s office for fighting. Libby had to clock out early for the resulting parent-teacher conference about his behavior. Then Keith caught chicken pox, and she’d needed the extra money again to pay the doctor bill and make up for lost work time with her sick child. She was worn down.
I felt small for missing her. At least I wasn’t tiredandlonely.
Although maybe Russell would be there when I collected Keith. I spent far too much time avoiding him while trying to catch a glimpse of him without being noticed.
I stepped off the sidewalk onto the drive leading to the only gas station on Main Street. The other two were on the outskirts of town, the self-service kind of pumps. Whereas this place? Full service, compliments of Annette’s husband, the owner. Complete with theding dingannouncing the arrival of a new customer driving under the porte cochere.
Except that was a word I didn’t use anymore. Porte cochere. That was my grandmother’s word for a covered area in front of the entry.
As I waited for a vehicle to back out of the two-bay garage, Russell rolled out from under a Chevy Chevelle with a racing number five painted on the side.
He tugged his work gloves off and tucked them into a pocket of his coveralls. “What can I help you with, Winnie?”
“I’m here to pick up Keith for Libby.”
“Right, he’s inside with Granny in the back office.”
I should have thanked him and moved forward. But I didn’t. I just kept fanning my face, the heat growing inside me. “It was kind of your grandmother to watch him. Libby will want to know if he behaved.”
“He’s no trouble as long as you keep him busy.” Russell leaned a hip against the front quarter panel. “Granny had him work on his ABCs with the card catalog.”
As that heat built, I could no longer ignore the truth. I was totally turned on by this man. And that was dangerous to building my new life, especially so soon into the process. What if I let something slip?
“Thank you,” I said crisply and started through the garage toward the office in back. Just as I reached for the doorknob, an arm stretched in front of me, briefly landing his hand on mine.Russell.
I huffed my hair off my brow. It didn’t help.
Russell pulled his hand back. “Have I done something to offend you?”
Had I given him the impression I was avoiding him out of racism? I wasn’t even sure how to voice that thought but desperately wanted to make sure he knew that wasn’t the case.
So I turned to face him and rested my fingers lightly on his wrist. “Of course you haven’t offended me. I’m sorry if I gave that impression. I, uh, I want ...”
Again, I struggled with words to discuss a subject that had gone woefully unaddressed in my upbringing.
“Good. I’m glad.” He nodded with a slight smile that broadcast understanding and relief. “I wanted to clear the air since we’ll be living in the same town.”
“You’ve been absolutely mannerly,” I said, needing to be sure he truly heard me. “And the way you and your grandmother have helped Libby has been generous.”
Russell hung his head, a pulse throbbing in his forehead that echoed my racing heart. It was one of those precipice moments of life, where the air feels different, charged, just before everything changes.
Throwing back his shoulders, he met my gaze full on. “I’ve been helping her because it’s the only way I could find to see more of you.”
My jaw dropped, and my stomach did the same flip that happened on a roller coaster.
He held up a hand. “Not that I’m using her or her boy. Granny is the one watching him. I’ve just stuck around when he’s here.”
A half smile pushed through my confusion and, yes, the excitement because he’d noticed me. I’d been unseen for so very long. Even when screaming from the rooftops, nothing. Now, when hidden, he had noticed me. “That’s still using them a little bit.”
“Am I forgiven?”
There was something in his golden-brown eyes that hinted he understood that his grandmother was doing more than shelving books at the library. Maybe he even helped in some way. But those words stayed unspoken. It was a sacred part of the network. No link broken. Nothing discussed without Annette’s approval. Even Libby and I hadn’t shared our stories. The one time I’d hinted to Annette ... she’d cut me off.
So I didn’t press him on that expression, but I took a sort of comfort in it all the same. If he understood my journey on some level, then that lessened the pressure of this attraction I felt. I wouldn’t have to explain the obstacles to him.
I allowed myself a little latitude. “What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up? Keith’s been looking forward to passing you tools. It’s all he talks about.”
“If you didn’t show, then I would still pitch in where needed,” he said without hesitation. “I’m not so heartless as to let down a little kid. Especially one who’s lost as much as Keith.”
