Push. Claire Wallis

back pocket of his jeans. After I go inside, I turn to close the door behind me and see him restarting the lawn mower, the front of my shoe dangling out of his back pocket.

      * * *

      The next morning, I somehow manage to wake a few minutes before my alarm. I love it when that happens, and take it as a sign that I am well rested and settling nicely into my work routine. When I turn the alarm off, I smell something. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I know it isn’t a smell that belongs here. It’s an earthy mix of turpentine and tobacco. I prop myself up on my elbows and inhale again. It’s not a bad smell, just a curious one. It’s raw and masculine.

      I click on my bedside lamp. I don’t see anything unusual about my room, and I begin to think that perhaps the smell is coming in through the closed windows. I swing my feet off the side of the bed and stand up. Sitting on top of the dresser, at the foot of my bed, is the navy blue shoe I had given to Brad. Shit. It means that David was here last night. Once again, I must have slept like a rock.

      I pick up the shoe and smile, thinking about what David’s reaction must have been when Brad presented it to him. I’d bet my first paycheck he was pissed off, at least initially. Obviously Brad gave David my message; otherwise my shoe wouldn’t be here right now, so at least I know that Brad had the opportunity to explain how he got it before David went crazy on him. I begin to think my little stunt went off without a hitch.

      I open my dresser drawer and pull out a clean pair of panties and a bra. I already have the rest of my clothes picked out for the day, and I walk over to my closet to get them out. Suddenly I understand where the smell is coming from. There on the floor next to my bed is David. He is naked from the waist up, his T-shirt bunched up underneath his head like a makeshift pillow. He is lying on his left side, his knees curled up toward his chest and his arms splayed out in front of him. I have been to enough high school and college parties to know that he is passed out drunk. As soon as I see him there, my mind deciphers the smell. It’s the whisky coming out of his pores, mingled with sexy-man-sweat and sweet cigar smoke. I suppose I should feel lucky that he didn’t puke. At least not in here, anyway.

      I bend down closer. He is in a dead sleep, and I watch his chest rise and fall a few times before I sit down on the floor next to him. The birds are there, of course, twisted around his arms. I want to touch them, to lie down next to him, but I don’t. Instead, I just watch him. This is what he looks like when he sleeps. I like his stillness, his exposure. He is strangely perfect like this, asleep on my floor curled into himself.

      I don’t wake him. Instead, I get my clothes out of the closet, grab both of my navy blue heels, and head to the bathroom, closing my bedroom door quietly behind me. Once I am showered and dressed, I eat a quick breakfast. Before I rush out the door, I pull a piece of paper out of my bag, write him a note, and put it on my little table.

      

      

      See you at 6:00.

      Chapter Thirteen

      Kelsey

      I am standing on Clawsen’s Bridge dressed for work in my khakis and blue polo shirt. David is late, which isn’t like him at all. Despite his rough edges, he’s always both punctual and orderly. Which is perfect, because I’m the exact same way. I suspect he’s late because he got stuck in the line of traffic going to Beth Lanko’s funeral. I think the whole town is there. Well, everyone except for us, that is. I knew Beth, but not well, so we aren’t going to her funeral. Instead, I am on this bridge waiting for David.

      David and I met when my family hired him and his dad to rebuild the kitchen in our restaurant. I waitress there and hope that, when he’s ready to retire, my dad will let me take over the business. It’s just a little bistro, but I grew up with it and can’t see myself doing anything else. Plus, when David and I get married and have kids, it means we’ll be able to stay close to my parents.