Page 42 of Longing for Liberty
“Damn.” Jeremy’s eyes were alight and far away for a long moment before he looked at me and grinned. “You have no idea how helpful this is. I can’t believe he lets you hear this.”
I beamed back at him until an image of what I’d done today flashed through my mind and wiped my smile away. I looked down until Jeremy squeezed my hand in his. I squeezed back but couldn’t meet his gaze yet.
“It’s weird,” I said after a long lull. “The way he talks about Community Five is almost…respectful.”
“Really?” He made a face of disbelief.
“Yeah.” We got to the end of the garden and turned to go back.
“Why do you think that is?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure…” Amos Fitzhugh was an anomaly to me.
“Libby, don’t…I don’t know.” His head hung. “Never mind.”
“Don’t what?” I asked, tugging his arm a little.
He paused as if figuring out the right word. And then… “I just hope you’re not romanticizing him.”
A flurry of emotions sliced jaggedly through me like a serrated knife. “I’mnot.”
I shook my head and suddenly wanted to pull my hand out of Jeremy’s grasp. I felt ashamed and defensive all at once.
“Okay,” he said gently, letting go of my hand and stopping to face me, reaching his hands around my waist to pull me against him and kiss my forehead. “I’m sorry. You did well.”
My eyes burned as I buried my face against his lean shoulder. I quickly pulled myself together and raised my head, taking his hand so we could walk again and not gain attention.
“I feel tired,” I whispered. We still had another two hours before we normally went to bed, but mental exhaustion was taking its toll. I still had things to do.
“Let’s get you home to rest,” he said.
“I have to can the applesauce,” I told him. I’d started cooking down the apples when I got home. There were enough to make three jars of applesauce, but if I didn’t properly boil the jars, the lids wouldn’t seal, and the sauce would go bad.
“I can do it,” he said. “I watched you last time. Just tell me how long.”
I didn’t want to put the chore off on Jeremy. His job was very physical and started even earlier than mine. But I also knew he could function on way less sleep than I could. His neurotypical brain was good like that. I started to give him instructions when we rounded the corner of the duplexes and heard muffled yells from one of the homes. We both stopped and listened. It was coming from the house with the young couple who’d had the fight before. Jeremy and I shared a worried look, but it got quiet again, so we kept going.
My mind had been overflowing lately, not allowing me to get good sleep, but that night I fell asleep almost immediately. I woke with a start at some point long into the night, Jeremy and I both sitting straight up in bed in the darkness. Somewhere nearby, a man screamed—a pained, strangled sound—and then it was quiet again. My heart pounded as acid rose to the back of my throat. A dronezingedpast our window, making me jump.
“Stay here.” Jeremy flung the covers as he got out of bed. I heard clothing rustling and imagined he was putting a shirt and pants on over his underwear.
He ran out as I yelled, “Be careful!”
I sat there hugging the blanket to my chest as I listened to voices and the sounds of doors opening and closing. Flashing lights through the window slats told me the State Force was there. Jeremy didn’t come back for about fifteen minutes.
Were Stanley and Rebecca okay?
Oh, God.
My heart was racing when Jeremy finally came back in.
“What is it?” I asked. “Stanley? Reb?—”
“They’re okay,” he assured me, undressing and climbing into bed to pull me close. “Everything is okay. Just a fight.”
But his arms slightly trembled as he held me, and his heart was racing like mine. He was protecting me from something, and I grasped his arms tightly, thankful, because I was scared to know.
“Go back to sleep, babe,” he whispered, kissing my hairline above my ear. But I didn’t relax again until after his heart settled and his breaths turned to deep breathing. Thunder boomed outside with a late-summer storm, and soon, the soothing sound of rain pattered hard against the roof. Yet, I was not soothed.
