Sara returned the kiss, trying again to slow him down. He took the hint, and his kiss was not as probing. When he came up for breath, he moaned, "I love you."
"I know," she said, stroking the back of his neck.
He looked up at her again, and she watched as his eyes seemed to focus on her for the first time since she had walked out of the funeral home. He looked forlorn, like the world had abandoned him and Sara was his only hope. "Is this okay?"
She nodded, not knowing what else to say.
He repeated, "Is it okay?"
"Yes," she said, helping him slide down her jeans.
Even though her body was ready for him, Sara braced herself when Jeffrey entered her. She put her hand behind her, trying to keep her head from bumping into the armrest as he moved inside of her. Overhead, she could see an index card tucked into the sun visor. A woman's hand had hastily scribbled a grocery list on the card, and Sara read the items silently to herself between thrusts. Eggs…milk…juice…toilet paper…
She turned slightly, trying to keep the gearshift from stabbing her thigh. That was all Jeffrey needed to finish the job, and he collapsed like dead weight on top of her.
Sara dropped her hand to her forehead, wondering how she had gotten herself into this. She said, "Well, that was romantic."
Jeffrey did not respond, and when she put her hand on his back he turned his head and let out a heavy breath.
He was asleep.
Sara woke up with a pounding headache that started at the back of her neck and worked up her head like a vise. She could not begin to imagine what Jeffrey felt like this morning, but part of her hoped he was in agony. God knew that she'd had some bad sex in her life, but last night ranked right at the top of what was, thankfully, a rather short list.
She felt for her shoes as she rose from the couch, wondering what time it was. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows and Sara guessed it was almost ten. The clock told another story: it was nearly noon.
"Crap," Sara mumbled, stretching her arms up to the ceiling. Her back felt as if all the muscles were knotted into bows, and her spine probably resembled a hook from the way she had slept on the couch.
She continued to stretch her back and shoulders as she walked through the house, looking for Nell. The kitchen was empty, pots and pans drying in the sink. She looked outside and saw Nell standing in the neighbor's yard with an ax raised over her head. As Sara watched, Nell brought down the ax on the chain that staked the dogs to a tree.
"What was that?" a voice behind Sara asked. She spun around and saw a young, dark-haired boy standing in the doorway. He was dressed in shorts with no shirt, his skinny chest concave in the center.
"Jared?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, looking around the room. "Where's my mama?"
"She's outside," Sara told him, wondering if Nell would want her son to know what she was up to. Truth be told, Sara was a little curious herself.
Jared walked to the back door, his sneakers shuffling across the floor. Sara was more than familiar with this curious phenomenon that plagued young boys – most of them did not learn to pick up their feet when they walked until they reached their twenties.
Sara trailed him outside, keeping well back to avoid the dust his shoes were stirring up. He reminded her of Pigpen in the Peanuts comics.
Nell was on the back porch at the neighbor's, putting leashes on the dogs. She saw Jared and said, "What are you doing out of bed?"
"I'm bored."
"You should've thought about that before you said you were too sick to go to day camp." Nell smiled at Sara. "Did you introduce yourself to Dr. Linton?"
"Doctor?" he asked, a hint of fear in his voice.
Nell said, "You best get back in that bed before I make her take your temperature."
There was something so familiar about his reaction – the set to his mouth, the annoyance that flashed in his eyes – that Sara caught herself staring at the boy, her mouth open.
"What?" Jared asked, giving her another familiar look.
Sara shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. His resemblance to Jeffrey was startling.
Nell saw the look on her face, and shooed Jared away. "Go on, now. Take Mama's ax."
He shuffled back to the house, dragging the ax behind him, and Sara pressed her lips together, biting back the obvious question.
Nell clicked her tongue and tugged on the leashes. The dogs stood at attention. "You look like you've got something to say."
"It's none of my business."
"That's never stopped me." Nell led the dogs around to the front of the house as she told Sara, "Jeffrey doesn't know."
Sara nodded, acknowledging that she had heard her but still not trusting herself to comment.
At the front of the neighbor's house, Nell sat on the porch with a sigh. "Possum and I got married a few weeks after Jeffrey moved away to Auburn."
"You didn't tell him?"
"So he'd come back and marry me?" she asked, petting one of the dogs. "Not much point in that; we would've both killed each other the first week. I got on his nerves because I was always telling him he was wrong, and he got on mine because he wouldn't admit that I was right."
Sara could only stare.
"He would've done the right thing," Nell said. "And I didn't want anybody to marry me because it was the right thing." The dog rolled on its back, and Nell scratched his stomach. "I love Possum. I liked him at first, but then he stepped in when Jeffrey was gone and we had Jared and Jen came later – not much later." She gave a private smile. "But we have a family now, a life together. Possum is a good man. He works less than five minutes away and he still calls if he's gonna be late. He doesn't mind picking up Motrin or tampons for me at the Piggly Wiggly and he's never said anything makes me look fat, even when I wore overalls for three years straight after I had Jen. I know where he is every second of the day, and I know if I fart in church he's gonna take the rap." She gave Sara a pointed look. "I like my life exactly how it is."
"You don't think Jeffrey has a right to know?"
"To what end?" she asked, and she had a point. "Possum's Jared's father. He changed that boy's diapers and walked the floor with him while I was passed out from exhaustion. He signs his report cards and coaches the Little League. There's nothing either of them wants for, and no reason to rock the boat."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"I won't tell him," she said, wondering how she could keep such a secret.
"It's not good for Jeffrey being back here right now," Nell said. "God knows I was mad at him for staying away so long, but there's too much history here. Too much has happened." She slipped off her flip-flop and scratched the other dog with her toes. "Jeffrey's turned out all right. He really has. There's something about him inside that's good, just like with Possum, only you have to scratch the surface to get to it. I don't know what you'd call it, but he's grown into the person I always thought he could be if he just got away from…" She indicated the street. "From this place where everybody thinks they know your story and they don't give a never-you-mind about filling everybody else in on what they think about it."
"Reggie Ray gave me an earful."
"Don't listen to that old redneck," she chastised. "He's the worst of the lot. Keeps saying he was born again. He needs a couple of more rebirths before he turns into a decent human being."
"He seemed all right."
"Then you weren't looking close enough," Nell said, an edge of warning to her tone. "There's two things you need to know about this town, Sara: the Rays think their shit don't stink and the Kendalls are pure white trash." She indicated her own front yard. "Not that I can say much with all that crap Possum put in the yard, but at least my kids show up to school in clean clothes."