The End of a Chapter

            The February heat was unbearable. Sunny looked past the tavern to the end of the empty road. The sidewalks should be covered in snow; the road is supposed to be grainy with salt and slush. She grimly pondered at the sight of steam and haze drifting up from the asphalt. If she stood in one place too long her dollar store sandals would stick to the ground. Everything was sticky.

             Sunny took one last drag of her cigarette and pressed it out leisurely into the side of the Rusty Nail’s yellow siding. Chicken Shit Yellow. The color never failed to remind her of the time she showed her mother the first dress she ever made. The high pitched squeal of delight filled their trailor as the woman screeched, “Sunny! It’s chicken shit yellow! Ha! Go over and stand next to the Rusty Nail and see if I can find you. Go on. It’ll be fun. I’ll bring the camera.” The chickens in the yard seemed to cluck louder in agreement as Mama egged her on. Mama. It was a thought filled with longing, and the longing didn’t surprise her as much anymore. Mama was her mama and that was that.

            Her apron hung behind the bar so crisp and pressed that it took the shape of a person with her arms akimbo as if to say, “Took you long enough.” When she reached for the strings to tie around her waist, two gentle calloused hands reached out to do it for her.

            “Gettin’ pretty hot out there.” His breath, cool and fresh, swept over her neck making tiny blond hairs stand at attention. Justin could make a woman shiver no matter what the heat index. Too bad he’s taken.

            “All white again I see.”

            “It is the uniform.” Justin threw a dish rag over his shoulder. The white tee rippled as he moved and Sunny wondered if the man was losing weight. The usually tan complexion had lightened despite the constant sun beating down on the quiet town. His green eyes still glimmered with boyish optimism, but the color was dull and nearly translucent. He’s getting worse. “Here, catch.”

            A book flew into Sunny hands, the dust from the flying pages tingled her nose. The girl on the cover looked familiar. She and Sunny could have been sisters. The wide forehead smartly obstructed by yellowish bangs, the small tilt of the freckled nose, a dimple in the chin.

            “Page 47.”

            “Do you want me to read out loud, little boy?”

            “That’s not necessary.”

            The sidewalks were covered in snow. The streets were grainy with salt and slush as two giggling women bounded toward the local pub. As they reached their destination, the younger of the two, perhaps the daughter, whipped off her jacket and proceeded to pose while hugging the side of the building. The older laughed and snapped her camera from various angles shouting, “That’s my girl!”

            Sunny slammed the book closed and threw it on the floor. The cover girl’s brown eyes wondered up at her.

            “It’s your story, Sunny. You need to read it all the way through this time.”

            She heard his words, and knew they were real, but could not bring herself to believe them. Mama. The longing crushed her then. You promised that I could wait.

            “I did promise.” He sighed and sat down gingerly his body folding awkwardly into a child’s pose. Sunny realized then just what waiting meant for the creature who kept her company in the limbo she had selected for herself. Little bits of home with the heat of hell she firmly believed that she deserved. She was hesitant move on, especially to a place she believed was foolish to accept her. She gazed into the once emerald eyes that pleaded quietly with love and grace.

            “What page?”

            “Are you sure?” Justin stood up from his place behind the bar; and as he stood Sunny noticed his pants were without a trace of the dust and grime that covered every surface of the Rusty Nail. “49.”

            The warmth of the pub greeted the women as they burst inside, their bodies tense from the February chill. One by one drinks came to comfort their throats with heat that grew less startling with time experienced. Keys were tossed to the bar keep. The younger woman, perhaps the daughter, recited a backwards alphabet to prove that renting a room upstairs during a blizzard was not necessary. “I sober enough to walk my Mama home,” she proclaimed. The yellow dress swished under her down jacket as she grabbed the house keys from an older man with a grim bearded face and soft blue eyes. Bright lights blinded the women minutes later. Darkness followed. The younger woman slipped into this world while the older remained in the darkness. Now the younger waits for the older in hopes to move on together.

            Sunny’s eyes prickled with tears. “I have to wait for her. It was my fault. My fault. I tripped on the ice. She tripped over me. I remember her laugh in my ears and how it faded as the lights came hurdling towards us. The snow was heavy. The driver couldn’t see…” As she spoke, her heart surge upward and Justin wrapped her in his arms and cradled her as she trembled from the force of facing something she had avoided so long. The lighting dimmed. A monotonous sound grew in her ears. Sunny knew how she should feel, but fear alluded her. The bell that never rung above the door chimed. The face she craved beamed down.

            “Time to go, baby girl.” Weeping and laughing the older and younger braced and finally went home.

            As Justin watched the mother and daughter walk through the lightly drifting snow, the pub’s walls fell away to reveal a stark white office. Justin settled down into his chair and a book materialized with bright yellow binding and a man with a grim bearded face and soft blue eyes on the cover. Justin’s fingers grazed the over the man’s face, opened the book, and he began to read.