Page 81 of Everything Under the Sun

Absently, I shook my head against the floor.

“Nothing will ever be the same as it was,” I told her. “Things may change, even for the better somewhere down the road, but nothing will ever be the same.”

I lay there, letting the shadow on the ceiling blur out of focus, replaced by images of the things I’d seen.

“Well,” she said, “I choose to believe that someday things won’t be so bad.”

“Maybe they won’t be,” I offered.

“They’re not so bad right now,” she said, but it was a question as much as it was a statement.

I turned my head to the side, facing the sofa where Thais lay; wisps of her dark hair hung over the cushion. I studied the outline of her face, the slope of her small nose, the plumpness of her lips, the roundness of her cheeks, the sharpness of her chin—I was fascinated by her soft beauty. “No,” I agreed, looking back up at the ceiling. “I guess things really aren’t so bad right now.”

Thais fell asleep minutes later, and once again, I couldn’t help but stay awake well into the night and early morning hours before dawn. But I did eventually pass out, and with me I took the uncertainty of my place beside Thais in the world. Am I strong enough to protect her from all this? Am I strong enough to protect her from me? Am I strong enough to protect myself from her?

I woke the following morning to the smell of breakfast. Bright sunlight spilled in through the windows, pooling on the floor near my head pressed awkwardly against the abrasive scruff of the area rug. A pool of drool surrounded my mouth and chin; I sucked in a driblet of saliva that hung from my bottom lip, and then reached up to wipe the rest away with the back of my hand. Thais stood over me, nudging my shoulder with the tip of her big toe, which was really quite small for a big toe, I thought.

“Get up,” she urged, a playful vibe in her voice. “Emily said breakfast is almost ready.”

She reached her hand out to me. “Need help? I bet that floor was murder on those ribs of yours.”

I got up on my own.

“I’m going to help Shannon in the garden today,” Thais said happily as she took up the quilt I’d slept on and folded it. “My garden was small at home,” she went on. “Grew mostly squash and carrots—had a lot of potatoes, too. Shannon said they haven’t had much luck growing squash. I told her I’d show her a few tricks I learned.”

Sill trying to wake up fully, I stretched my arms high above my head.

THAIS

I heard the cracking of Atticus’ back and the popping of the joints in his arms and his muscled neck. I caught myself glimpsing his abs and the obvious freckle set to the right of his navel. I looked away when his shirt slowly slid back down as he lowered his arms, easing out of the stretch. I felt my ears and cheeks get hot; the quilt in my hand was reduced to a perfect square by the time I was done with it—anything to make it appear as though I hadn’t been looking at him in such a way, even though I doubted he noticed.

“Hurry and come eat,” I insisted, setting the quilt on the end of the sofa, and then I slipped around the corner.

ATTICUS

I could’ve sworn Thais was looking—no, surely not. Shaking the thought from my mind, I went to the living room window and watched David standing in the front yard, tossing trash onto the burn pile. He could at least burn the damn tires farther away from the house. The thick black smoke was often offensive when the wind blew it in the wrong direction. But David, for all the survival skills he seemed to possess, was probably not so much an intelligent man with other things, and so I ignored it.

I went into the kitchen where Thais was helping Shannon and Rachel set the table. Rachel raised her dark eyes the second she saw me, but I ignored her, too.

Emily stood at the kitchen window, peering out into the field, but when she noticed me, she sprang away from the window and became immediately attentive. Overly attentive.

“Still not back yet?” I inquired about Lance, assuming that’s why she had been peering out the window so intently. And if Lance is Shannon’s boyfriend, why is she never watching for him?

Emily walked around the table with a fistful of forks, placing one next to each plate with no real uniformity.

“No, he’s not,” she answered. “But he’ll be all right. Been gone huntin’ for longer. Came back one time with a twelve-point buck.”

Hmm.

I looked over at Thais as she filled the glasses with fresh water from a pitcher. She smiled at me from across the table. I almost smiled back.

“So,” Emily said—the screen door creaked as David entered the house—“have ya decided to stay?” She sat down in her usual chair at the table.

David came into the kitchen, his boots clunking against the floor.

I nodded, and that simple gesture piqued everyone’s attention; heads shot up, eyes widened, fixed on me.

Having just made up my mind in the last two minutes, I remained standing for a moment, and then finally took my seat after everyone else.

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