he reached for the chainsaw.
Angrier still, the frustration mounting, she begrudgingly handed him the chainsaw. He took it from her, walked to the porch, set it down, and opened the tank to add gasoline. He was facing away from her on purpose. He knew what was going to happen. He heard her shriek. He heard the sound of her feet rushing toward him. And before he had time enough to really brace himself, she had toppled him over and they were rolling in the wet grass while she punched at his chest and arms. He blocked and laughed. This was the most fun he’d had in some time.
“You tricked me! You knew it needed gas! You knew it wouldn’t start!” She was laughing, embarrassed and upset all at the same time.
He wrapped his arms around her. “Calm down. I had to save you from yourself.”
She settled down, stopped fighting him, and enjoyed the closeness for a moment. “I don’t need saving,” she said quietly.
And before he could argue with her contention, an unfamiliar voice interrupted their play. “I’m looking for Martha.”
They paused, stood, and looked particularly guilty while brushing themselves off. “I’m Martha,” she said seriously to the man wearing the generic black suit. “How can I help you?” She walked towards him with her hand outstretched, ready to shake with a formal introduction. Instead, a manila envelope thick with papers was thrust into her hand.
“You’ve been served.” And he turned on his heels and walked back to his dark colored sedan that was parked just down the road.
He watched her. She was clearly standing there in shock. Her arm was still extended, her hand clutched around the papers. Slowly, with a pained look on her face, she dropped it to her side. Without speaking, she walked around to the back of the house to enter through the kitchen. He followed quietly behind her, waiting for a reaction, waiting to see if she needed him. He had his suspicions about the contents. He could tell she did, too.
If she knew he was behind her, she didn’t show it. She let the screen door snap shut after her. She was about to shut the door, too, but he caught it and followed her in. She walked through the kitchen, down the wide empty hall, and then dropped the envelope on the stairs. She eyed her bare hand, and then she touched her wrist.
“You’re wearing the bracelet,” he said quietly.
She laughed, but it sounded hollow. “I never take it off.”
Somewhere inside, that thought warmed him immensely. “I didn’t want to ask, I didn’t bring it up, but I’ve noticed you haven’t been wearing your rings.” He watched her for a reaction, but she gave none. “I know I didn’t mention it at the time, but when we went to the beach, it was because I knew you needed it. And the bracelet…I,” he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. “Well, I thought you might need that, too. Let’s treat it like a project…like your house.” He shrugged. I thought maybe this piece of jewelry, this memento…it might make you feel less naked, less aware of your loss. I hoped that maybe you would see how you were changing and growing and you’d recover faster, be stronger and happier than you had been.” She was just standing there watching him, listening to him go on and on and for some reason, he couldn’t’ stop talking. He was so desperate to make her understand. He was just blathering on and on. “I guess it sounds stupid.” He sighed. He just wasn’t explaining it right. That was all.
For her. He was doing all of this for her. He didn’t have a reason to care, but clearly he did. And that was the only excuse she needed to turn towards him. His arms were out around, extended away from his side. That made it all the easier. She just walked into him. She walked until she was flush against his chest. She could tell he wasn’t sure how to react, where to place his hands, what he should do. She rubbed her face against his chest until she fit against his heart perfectly. She reached up and ran her hands down his shoulders until she found his forearms and wrapped him around her.
A word was spoken in her head. She didn’t recognize the voice as her own or even know where the idea originated. Still, there it was. Home. This could be home, if only she would