Page 34 of Yesterday's Tomorrows

Holt gave the Red Cross worker all of his contact information which she jotted down and then left to see to another couple standing a few feet away. The fire was contained, but there was no way anyone was going to be allowed back into the building tonight.

Holt took my elbow and guided me through the maze of emergency vehicles still hogging the street. His truck finally came into view. He helped settle me in the seat, blanket and all, and strapped me in with the seatbelt as if I was a child. I didn't have the energy to protest, still numb from everything that had transpired over the past several hours.

The ride to his apartment was mostly quiet. I wanted to ask Holt how he learned about the fire and why he came to look for me, but he seemed a little preoccupied.

Probably already regretting his offer. I'm sure he had better plans than babysitting me once again.

I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes. I sensed him periodically glancing at me, but I didn't acknowledge him. I was overwhelmed by everything that had transpired today. It was all I could do not to raise my fist to the sky and scream in frustration. Why did the fates seem to be against me? How many times was I going to have to pick myself up and start over?

Warm fingers rested on top of mine. I cracked open my eyes and watched as his strong fingers worked to unclench and entwine with mine.

I looked at our clasped hands and thought how small and pale my hand looked in his larger, more tanned one. We were opposites in so many ways: he was well-educated, successful, confident, and came from a loving family; I had a high school diploma which I earned from a prison cell, had no promising future, and no matter how much I tried to pretend otherwise, I was a broken piece of the girl I used to be, and that wasn't saying much. And now I was homeless.

Despite his polish, I sensed something broken in him, too. Ever since that night he'd followed me and shared a simple dinner in my apartment, our relationship had shifted. Both of us had alluded to cracks in our lives that if explored too far might split wide open, leaving us raw and exposed. I had a feeling we’d end up either completely breaking each other or filling in the cracks. The question was, could we do one without the other?

Despite the chill of the evening, the knowledge that Holt cared enough to search for me, the relief I heard in his words and saw in his eyes when he found me, warmed me in a way I hadn't felt in a very long time. Maybe he was he was filling my cracks without too much damage. I just hoped he didn’t cause new ones to form. Everyone I ever cared about eventually left me, and I wasn’t sure I could take any more loss.

"It will be alright, Maddy. I promise." His voice sounded strong and secure, but unless he could wave a magic wand and make the mess in my life disappear, they were empty words.

"I wish I believed you," I whispered.

I withdrew my hand and placed it on my lap and closed my eyes again, but not before I caught the frown on his face.

18

Holt

I ushered Maddy into my apartment and dropped my keys on a table tucked into the small vestibule in the entranceway. She stood motionless a few feet inside with her arms still clutching tightly to the blanket the Red Cross volunteer had provided her. I was worried by how vacant her expression appeared.

She had to be in shock. She'd had one hell of a week, that was for sure. The repairman, Misty, a lunch mishap, and now the fire. I moved past her and grabbed two whiskey glasses and poured a generous finger's worth of Scotch and a splash of water into each. I set them on the table next to the couch and went back to stand in front of her.

"Maddy?"

Her eyes, more muted than I'd ever seen them, looked up at me.

"Come and sit down." She nodded and sat on the edge of the cushion with her head bowed to the floor and her hair falling around her face. There was no point in denying how much seeing her appear so vulnerable affected me. It made me want to hold her tight and try to fix everything for her.

Instead, I settled for pressing the glass into her hands. "Take a sip, sweetheart."

As if on autopilot she moved the glass to her lips and took a gulp. Within seconds she was coughing and sputtering, almost spitting out the liquid that cost me nearly two hundred bucks a bottle.

She glared at me. "What the hell, Holt? Are you trying to poison me?"

I smiled as the familiar green flared in her eyes. "No. If I were, I'd have chosen something cheaper than good Scotch to do the deed."

She stared suspiciously at the tumbler in her hands. "Ugh. No wonder I don't drink alcohol."

"I'll have you know that's some of the finest whiskey Scotland has to offer. Try again, only this time, sip it slowly."

I swallowed my laugh as she stuck her nose in the glass and sniffed the contents then once again lifted the glass to her lips and swallowed a small amount. She closed her eyes and drew some deep breaths and tilted her head thoughtfully. "It's really warm going down." She sipped some more. “Maybe it’s not so bad after all.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as the color returned to her cheeks.

"Thank you," she whispered.

I started to shrug but froze as she placed a hand on my arm. "No, I mean it, Holt. You always seem to show up when I need someone. I know I haven't been easy to get along with all the time, but thank you for being here for me."

"I am here for you, Maddy. I know we got off to a rocky start, but…"

---