Page 44 of Last Breath

“Thank you, Mal.” Smiling and shivering at the same time, Joy is happy.

Joining us a moment after I hear the trunk close, Salem jumps in the passenger seat. “I could go for a beer too.”

Great. Another thing I’ve tried to keep away from him after recent events.

Maybe one will be okay? Then again, maybe not.

Putting the car in drive and directing us back out to the old highway we were on before, we set ourselves toward the motel lights in the distance.

Chapter 23

Joy

The prospect of pie makes my stomach yearn for the sweetness of ripe cherries, fresh strawberries, sweet blueberries, or even a raisin filling. I want anything I can get my hands on.

“Oh, and a freshly made tea. That would beso good.” Shivering internally, I’m excited to enjoy perfectly steeped tea with a hint of sweet and a sliver of tang. Gran used to make it exactly right when I was a kid.

I miss her for that.

When I was young, when she still had all of her faculties, Gran would make the best teas. We’d sit on the porch in the summer, talking of school, boys, and the activities of town that day. She wasn’t always the crotchety old woman like she was in the end. She was loving, sweet, caring, and above all, she gave me something my own mother Corrine couldn’t.

As her dementia took hold, I never realized just how unfulfilling my life had become until I’d met Salem and Malachi. Now my life is fuller, more invigorating, more adventurous, and it has an understanding that was missing. I get that now. They understand me more than any ever did.

As we travel across the desert, the lights of the motel are like a beacon of hope.

“Do you think they’ll have a tub? I can’t remember the last time I had a soak in a tub.” That would be heavenly.

Turning in his seat, Salem smiles again, and I see that the light hasn’t left him. Looking at that stick, seeing that I was actually going to be a mother, I was fearful. I thought that they’d drop me at a roadside bar, venturing on alone and pregnant. But they surprised me, showing me the depths of their love for me, for this new life.

The question that has ran rampant in my mind all day though, with all of the lives we’ve ruined, how am I able to have a child of my own? It seems wrong to give me something to cherish when I’ve spent months erasing life.

“If they have a tub in one of the rooms, we’ll ask for that one, Joy. You can have pie, a tea, and if we’re lucky, I’ll grab you a book to read as you soak.”

“That’s so sweet, Malachi.” I’d almost forgotten how attentive he could be. At the beginning of this adventure, he’d noticed I loved to saunter through the magazine and book areas when we were at a rest-stop. I’d reach for one instinctively. When I’d burn through it, he’d grab one for me without my notice, surprising me with a classic or a contemporary romance novel. Most the time, I’d read in the car—when one of them wasn’t occupying my time with extracurricular activities—and I’d sit engrossing myself in a world unlike ours now. I found myself hoping for the perfect life with a dishwasher running in the background, my hair in curlers, a kid in a highchair and Malachi or Salem kissing me goodbye before they left for work. I never dreamt that the loves of my life would be the ones that law enforcement would chase down like rabid animals. My life wasn’t filled with gore and destruction, after all. I was the cheerleader, the princess, and the darling redheaded sweetheart. I saw myself as Cinderella or the princess in the tower, never the thieving murderers that resembled Bonnie and Clyde or the Joker and Harley…more like the Joker, Harley, and Batman.

I’d been sheltered in a small town where we never had anything horrific happen. The worst thing I remember was when Charlie Graves ran his tractor into a tree because a raccoon had fallen asleep in the cab and scared his ass half to death. Now after doling out death, deservedly, I find a sense of peace to it.

Seeing Tress and the past that Salem had lived with—the home, the destitution and fear he lived in—I can’t fathom that. Rubbing my stomach where new life is starting, I vow I’ll never let that happen to my baby. It will have the best of everything if it’s in my power.

Crossing the dirt, the wheels jerk onto the paved roadway, curving us toward the dark as the tires squeal and the rubber picks the edge. While we careen toward a building that can give me a semblance of normalcy, if only for a brief moment, it seems surreal. We’re going away from Wells Variety—the roadside convenience store we decimated, and heading toward that light Malachi saw in the distance.

From where we were up in the hills it seemed closer, but the more Mal drives on the paved road, it seems to shrink away.

Looking at the time on the dash, its closing in on three a.m. The motel could be closed and we’d have to sleep in the car again. Tucking the blankets tighter, curling into a ball where my feet are warm, I prepare for the fact it could be a truth.

“What flavor of pie is your favorite, Joy?” Malachi asks. I think the reason he asks is to keep awake, so I entertain the idea.

“Apple crumble, or pear. Gran used to make this wicked crust that flaked when your fork nicked it. The pears were sweet enough to melt in your mouth and the topping was crunchy. If she cooked it the right way, you could peel off the topping.” I smile as I remember them cooling in the window. “She always knew I was doing it, but she made them with extra topping just in case.”

“I’m just looking forward to a strong coffee. Everywhere we’ve gone lately its weak and plain. I want my fork to stand in it.” Malachi beams as he says this.

“You want a cup of mud?” I question, unsure why anyone would want that.

“It helps me sleep. For some reason, coffee has an adverse effect on me. It drags me to la-la land.”

“What about you, Salem? What do you want most, pie or coffee?”

“I’ve only had apple pie. For once, I’d like to find a place that has cherry. Everywhere we’ve stopped is always out of cherry. I want cherry.”

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