Sam wanted Anna to run off with him. She was staring at her pecan pancakes watching the butter slide around on the plate. “Come live with me,” he said. He gave her his naughty look, the one that made the heat rise right on up to her flesh. Her breakfast was getting cold. She kept adding packs of sugar to her coffee watching the white junk float around the dark liquid. Usually, she used sweet-n-low, because sugar tended to make her shake but not today.
“I don’t know,” she looked toward her window of sunshine for a distraction. But she did know. She wanted to tell him she's a coward, afraid to take that leap or trust again. For her sister was lying in a coma after the lake water swallowed her whole, and how her mother just curled up in a ball in bed due to the loss and wouldn’t leave the house.
Sam smiled, and moved his index finger up and down her arm before he said, “Go easy on the sugar, Sugar.” When the waitress refilled the coffee, Anna knew she had one cup full of time. She would play with her food hoping he would order another doughnut or have a flat tire. But soon he would drive away, to find more work in the next city using those magic hands to remodel homes for others. He was always slipping away, drifting, never in one place. Sam would see her for a few nights then vanish. He would disappear for days and days, sometimes weeks or months.
Still, she waited. She spent most of her life waiting-waiting-waiting for her mother to return, her sister to wake up or this, her rugged man to emerge.
Anna, like her life, was on permanent pause or rewind, that static, all the noise, with no play button.
“I don’t know,” she looked toward her window of sunshine for a distraction. But she did know. She wanted to tell him she's a coward, afraid to take that leap or trust again. For her sister was lying in a coma after the lake water swallowed her whole, and how her mother just curled up in a ball in bed due to the loss and wouldn’t leave the house.
Sam smiled, and moved his index finger up and down her arm before he said, “Go easy on the sugar, Sugar.” When the waitress refilled the coffee, Anna knew she had one cup full of time. She would play with her food hoping he would order another doughnut or have a flat tire. But soon he would drive away, to find more work in the next city using those magic hands to remodel homes for others. He was always slipping away, drifting, never in one place. Sam would see her for a few nights then vanish. He would disappear for days and days, sometimes weeks or months.
Still, she waited. She spent most of her life waiting-waiting-waiting for her mother to return, her sister to wake up or this, her rugged man to emerge.
Anna, like her life, was on permanent pause or rewind, that static, all the noise, with no play button.
