Page 104 of The Sun
“So mad,” I mumbled as I folded a blanket over my arm.
“Hey.” Elias rubbed his hand over the small of my back and placed a tender kiss to my neck. “It’s okay.”
My entire body was tight, swirling with anger and sadness, misunderstanding and disappointment. Daddy was furious, and every move he made caused an unrivaled hatred to bubble inside me. I didn’t understand how, if he loved me, he could try to hurt the thing that meant the most. And what would he have done if the cops had stumbled across something? Would he have arrested Elias? Sent him to jail? Surely, he wouldn’t expect forgiveness from me if it had come to that? But the thing that caused me the most grief was the thought that, maybe, he didn’t expect my forgiveness at all.
Later that night,I laid in bed, the almost cool air of the AC blowing across my face as I stared at the ceiling.
Elias shifted next to me, draping his arm over my waist. “It’s bothering you?”
I nodded. I felt like I was drowning, and every time I swam close to the surface, something grabbed hold of my ankle and tugged me farther down. I was lost in a whirlpool of what I should do and what I wouldn’t do; pride and grief. Elias and my father.
Elias inhaled a deep breath, his fingertips dancing over my ribs. “I don’t want you to regret this.”
“Regret what?”
“Me.”
My body bristled. “I would never regret you. Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know what it’s like to have a family, but. . .” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just hate to see you upset like this, knowing I can’t do a damn thing to fix it.”
The air conditioner kicked off, and the hum of the cicadas filtered through the window. I thought about the things Daddy had said regarding Elias. About how he seemed hell-bent on tearing us apart. My father was the world positioned between the sun and the moon, determined to never let the two collide.
“I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive him,” I said.
“You need to talk to him, Sunny. Life’s too short for bullshit.”
My face heated, and I sat up, looking at Elias from behind tears.Tears?I wasn’t even sure why I was near crying, but I was. “It’s not bullshit, Elias.”
He pushed onto his elbows, moving in toward me until we were nose to nose. “In the grand scheme of life, this is bullshit. No matter what happens, I’ll still be right here, and he’ll still be your father.”
“How are you not mad at him, Elias? How?”
“Because just like me, he’s only doing what he thinks is best for you. And love, well, it makes you crazy sometimes.”
I just needed time.
39
Elias
There were some days you knew would stick out in your mind forever, like the day I met Sunny or the day I found out my maw’s body had been found up in the Talladega Forest. The first day of spring that year would turn out to be no different. Forever lodged in my brain like a bullet.
On my way to cut Magpie’s yard, I passed by Krispy Kreme, and just like every morning, Mr. Lower’s cruiser sat at the far side of the building. That man was predictable if nothing else.
I tapped the brakes, debating whether I should stop or not. Right when it was almost too late, I jerked the wheel to the right and flung my truck into the lot, parking beside his car. I sat there gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles washed white, and then finally, I slung my door open, pocketed my keys, and headed to the glass entrance.
The bell dinged, and the warm, inviting aroma of sweet pastry and glaze slapped me in the face. Mr. Lower sat at a booth in the back, alone. A cup of coffee, a notepad, and his Bible on the table. His eyes were closed, and I was pretty sure by the way his hands were clasped on top of that tattered book, he was praying.
I maneuvered past a mom with two crying toddlers in tow and past several empty tables before I stopped at the end of his.
My insides shook, my stomach tying knot after knot. I didn’t want to make things worse, and I wasn’t sure that I could do anything but just that. But I loved Sunny, and deep down at the heart of everything, I loved Mr. Lower, too, simply because for those two years I stayed with them, he was the closest thing I came to having a real father.
“Mr. Lower?”
His eyes opened, bloodshot and tired. Without a word, he tore a page from the notebook and folded it once before slipping it between the pages of the Bible. His hand tapped on the tabletop, then he inhaled.
I couldn’t take the silence anymore.
