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Ashes to Ashes

Ashes - 1

by

Melissa C. Walker

For Tommy Walker, my favorite nephew

One

I WAKE UP WITH A JERK, not certain what startled me. I was having a good dream, the kind you want to hang on to after you wake up, and I try to re-create everything that was happening. I think Mama was there, but I can’t get the details clear in my head.

Wanting to recapture them, I snuggle down deeply into the warmth and comfort—

The alarm blares.

The warmth and comfort beside me bucks. “Geez, Callie! Why the alarm? It’s summer. ”

Horrified, I quickly slam the Snooze button, then twist around and shake my boyfriend, who’s already drifting off again. “Nick, you gotta go. Dad’s up. ”

That jars him out of his drowsy haze. He bolts out of bed and starts searching frantically for his shoes. His brown hair sticks up in all directions and his eyes are sleepy. Adorable. I bring the covers up to my chin, trying to keep the warmth cocooned around me, to delay having to deal with the unnatural chill of the morning as long as possible.

Nick snatches up his sneakers and drops down onto the edge of my bed to put them on.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” I ask. Late last night, he snuck in through my bedroom window like he has a hundred times before. We watch TV, talk, gorge on honey barbecue Fritos and mini peanut butter cups. We kiss, make out, but always, always stop short of going all the way, even though I’m more than ready.

Nick once told me, “If your dad catches me spending the night, he’ll kill me. If he catches me and thinks we’ve done more than sleep, he’ll kill me slowly. ”

He glances back over his shoulder, his brown eyes softening. “Later. ”

He said the same thing when he arrived a little after midnight and realized I was snuggled beneath the blankets, having my own private Walking Dead marathon.

He crawled into bed with me and got caught up in the story. With his arms wrapped securely around me, I fell asleep first. At some point he must have turned off the television.

I hear Dad’s heavy step across the kitchen tiles below, and I wait for the clink of his coffee cup in the sink. When it comes, I know it’ll be exactly twenty-seven minutes before he leaves for work—that’s how long it takes him to read the paper, which he does after coffee so that he can fully concentrate.

Clink.

“We still have a few minutes if you’re going to sneak out before Dad leaves,” I tell Nick. “Give me a hint. ”

“Not enough time for even that. ”

He leans over and gives me a quick kiss, but I put my hand on the back of his neck and pull him closer.

“I gotta go,” he whispers. Reluctantly, I release him.

He bounds toward the window as I throw off the covers. A blast of coldness sends a chill through me.

Perched on the window seat, Nick raises the window. He clambers onto a sturdy branch of the oak tree.

I rest my folded arms on the windowsill. “I love you. ”

“Same here. ” Reaching out, he tucks my hair behind my ear. “Just remember that. ”

Something sad touches his eyes, and a sense of foreboding rushes through me. “Nick—”