Page 15 of Fragile Touch (Fragile 1)
“I need a drink,” she told him. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a drink.”
In the kitchen, she stood on her tiptoes to take a bottle down from the shelf. It had a little dust on the top of it.
“Been a while, friend,” she muttered, and poured a hefty dose in a glass with some ice. She took a huge gulp, wincing at the sting. Seeing how low the glass had already gotten, she drained the rest then refilled and added a little extra.
“That’s better.” She tapped the side of the glass. “I’m not going to be able to hold this very well. No, sir. I never could hold it very well, anyway. Screw it. Who cares?” She raised her glass to the air. “To Amelia.”
Letting the music carry her along, she floated out the back door onto the porch, sat down in an old chair, and closed her eyes.
Since her last drop of alcohol had been months ago, her body was far less tolerant than it used to be. After only a few minutes she felt her skin get hot and she took off her sweater, draping it on the porch railing. The chilly spring evening tickled her skin and cooled off the few drops of sweat that had gathered on her chest.
The music felt good now. It didn’t just sound good. She could feel it go through her skin, all the way into her bones...not that there was much distance between the two. She could even hear the silence, that strange silence when afternoon fades into twilight. When she was young—maybe around nine or ten—the energy during this time of the day gave her a fright and so she always made sure to be inside by then. Nighttime was okay, but the transitional few minutes had a vibe that rubbed her the wrong way.
Now, it didn’t bother her. Especially since she had her liquid courage on hand. The whole outdoors was golden even though she couldn’t see the sun. Had it already gone down, disappearing under the ground? Was it still awake just behind the trees? She couldn’t hold her thoughts on it long enough to figure out the answer. The memories were tugging again.
The drink had melted into her body and relaxed her muscles beyond anything she could remember. She raised her arm to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, but scratched her cheekbone instead. “Shit,” she cursed, pressing her palm against the hot streak. “Easy, Lillian. You’re not as young as you used to be.”
Come on, silly, she heard Amelia’s voice in her head and saw her bright smile, framed by the dark cranberry lipstick she wore every day. You’re still so damn young. Don’t waste it!
She heard a meow and turned her head suddenly, grabbing the arm of the chair with both hands for stability. Both cats sat on the floor, looking up at her. “You want to come out?” she asked. Her voice came out of her mouth a lot louder than she expected. Am I really drunk this fast?
You need this, girl! Amelia again. Let loose just one time, for crying out loud.
I need this? Lillian thought about it as she carefully set down the glass, making sure to put it on the ground far enough away that, if she tripped, it wouldn’t spill. Yeah, maybe I do need this. Maybe you’re right, Amelia.
The ground seemed to move under her feet. Somehow, she could feel the earth vibrating and it messed up her sense of balance. She held the railing on the edge of the porch and inched along, keeping her eyes on the cats.
“I’m coming to let you out,” she told them, flinching at the volume of her voice. She let out a single laugh. “I’m so loud!”
The door was just a few steps away. Lillian told herself it was no problem and moved away from the railing, but a deep growling sound scared her and she jumped forward, crashing into the door. The cats let out a hiss at the sudden movement and were instantly on the other side of the living room inside, staring from the other end of the sofa.
“How did you move so fast?” Lillian yelled at them. “Can you hear me?”
She flipped around and examined the backyard. Nothing was there. Where’d the growling noise come from? The music stopped for a moment, then started again with a new song. For some reason she felt very heavy, and leaned with all her weight against the outside wall.
“Come on, kitties,” she beckoned, holding her arm out. “Come here so I can go back to my drink.”
The cats didn’t move.
“Why aren’t you coming? You just wanted to come out!”
They stared at her, glassy-eyed, not giving her any sort of answer. She could usually tell what they meant to say by even a tiny movement, but she couldn’t even see them breathing right now.
“Are you statues?”
Gray Cat, without warning, leapt backward and bolted into the next room. She heard something fall off a shelf, but for once it didn’t bother her.
“How about you?” She pointed at Black Cat. “You’re still here; do you want to come out and catch the last little bit of daylight?”
Black Cat stood up gracefully and padded over to her reading chair. Lillian swore time slowed when he jumped onto it, and it sped back up when he curled up on the quilt.
“Fine. Have fun alone, you lame cat.” She stuck out her tongue and braced herself on the door. Back to my drink, then.
The first step she took, her leg buckled beneath her and she toppled over. In a frenzy she tried to lean forward and grab the rail post, but she was just a step too far away. She fell with a shout and heard it echo across the backyard.
This is probably the loudest I’ve ever been, she found herself thinking. Her knee and the pads of her hands felt hot, and she looked down. Her knee was scraped and her hands were shedding a couple drops of blood.
When was the last time you felt pain like this? It was Amelia, in her smiling voice. She used that voice every time Lillian needed calming down, whether it be from anxiety, tiredness, or boy troubles.
