No Plans for Love (9 page)

"To go home." She smiled groggily. "Will you get me some potato chips?"

Before he got out to go in the drug store, he asked, "What kind of chips do you want?"

She mumbled something unintelligible. He just grinned and went inside. While he waited he called Jan. "Sherry's okay. She has broken ribs and some bruises. Some road rash on her right shoulder. She isn't supposed to be alone for twenty-four hours so I'm going to stay with her. Tell Dad to call Mike to help with the milking tonight. I'll pay him. I'm not supposed to use my arm for anything strenuous.

"Mom, Sherry isn't going to be able to get up and down on that mattress. Is there a single bed you and Dad can bring over for her? I'll sleep on her mattress."

"I'll talk to Dad about it."

"I've got to go. I want to call the flower shop and have some delivered for her."

"That's a great idea. I think I'll do that, too."

When Mark got back to the truck, Sherry was asleep. He didn't wake her but put the bag with the chips and prescriptions on the console between them.

"Dad's truck's here," he said as he pulled in Sherry's driveway but she didn't hear him. She was still asleep. He shook her gently. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty."

She opened her eyes, mumbled something and closed them again. When he stepped down from his truck, Mark noticed his father looking out the window and motioned for him to come out. "Will you carry Sherry inside?"

"Sure. She can't be that heavy. Just open the door for me."

Mark went around the truck and opened the door and undid the seat belt.

"I meant open the door to the house," his father said.

"Mom's got that," Mark returned. "I need to get that bag. It has our meds and Sherry's chips."

Inside Jan rushed to move the pillows to the other end of the daybed so Frank could lay Sherry down without any problems. Then she took off Sherry's shoes and spread the comforter over her.

"They gave her a shot for pain just before we left the hospital. She'll probably sleep a while." Mark motioned to a large box on the table. "What's this?"

"That box Violet had me keep for Sherry. I had Dad carry it down before I forget it again. Just be sure she has a crying towel when she opens it." Jan looked in the bag Mark set on the table. "Why so many chips?"

"I didn't know what kind she wanted so I bought three kinds," Mark responded.

Frank took the bag of sour cream and onion chips. "I take these. Tell her it's in exchange for my daybed."

"I paid for those chips," Mark protested.

"Did it break you? If you're coming with me, Mom, come on. I still have work to do."

After they left, Mark carried the box to the living room and set it on the floor. Then he got the flashlight and looked through Sherry's pantry for something to eat. While he waited for the spaghetti to heat, he called Jan. "Do you still have that old coffeemaker? I need some caffeine."

"I'll bring it over. Some coffee, too. But I don't have any filters. You'll have to use a paper towel. Anything else?"

"How about some supper when it's time? Sherry doesn't have much food. She made a list but we never got to the grocery store."

"I'll bring some things that don't require refrigeration. We need to get her a refrigerator somehow. We can't buy her a new one. She'd never accept it. I'll be over as soon as I get these vegetables chopped to go in the slow cooker for supper."

Mark sat at the table in a way that he could see through the archway to the dining room just in case Sherry woke up and needed his assistance. When he heard a car outside, he assumed it was Jan but he leaned back to see out the window. Instead of Jan's SUV, a state police car sat in the driveway. When the trooper got out Mark recognized his best friend.

Mark stood up and went to the window and motioned him inside before he had a chance to push the door buzzer. When Chad came in the kitchen door, Mark put his finger to his lips to signal quiet. "Sherry's sleeping off the shot they gave her for pain. She has three broken ribs. What happened to your face?"

"I'll tell you just as soon as I get a statement from you. I need to talk to Sherry but I can get the information from you first. We already know what happened but we need to get it documented so it will hold up in court." Chad sat down at the end of the table blocking Mark's view into the dining room. "Just tell me what happened. I'll record it." Chad also made some notes for his own information.

Between bites, Mark described what had occurred that morning ending with, "I almost killed her. If Rose Dale hadn't been there..." He choked up at the thought of what might have happened. "Chad, I love Sherry. I fell hard and fast. What I had with Elena was never love. I don't know what it was but it wasn't love. The only person Elena loves is herself."

Chad handed Mark the tablet on which he was writing what Mark told him. "Sign and date this, please. Then I'll tell you how I got these scratches on my face."

Chad began his narrative. "I was southbound on 322 when I got a call that another trooper and Chief Harvey were in hot pursuit of a northbound silver Lexus with the vanity plates H-E-L-E-N-A. There was an emergency crossover so I drove across and parked.  I flagged down a trucker and had him park his truck across the highway. I could hear the sirens so I knew they were coming my way.

"I got a call that they were going a hundred and ten miles an hour. I didn't think she could get stopped before she hit the truck. But she slammed on the skids and whipped the wheel. She went into a slide and took that truck's trailer tires broadside. That set off her airbags. I figured that she was pretty well done in so I went over to get her out.

"She had a bloody nose but she came up hissing and spitting like a wild cat. She spit in my face. I jerked her around and got the cuffs on her left wrist but she came up with those long fingernails of hers and scratched my face. I yanked her left arm around behind her and tried to get a hold on her right arm but she held it straight out.

"Turner came over to help me and she kicked him on the knee. She held her arm straight up. I had her left arm and my other arm around her waist. When Turner reached up to get her right arm, she bit him hard enough to draw blood. That's when I got a little rough with her but I got the cuffs on her other wrist. I shoved her into my car and she tried to kick me but I got my leg up in time. I grabbed her feet and hollered for Turner to bring his cuffs and put them around her ankles. I had to get my arm across her throat in order to fasten the seat belt.

"She cursed me all the way down to Lewistown to the hospital. She refused to cooperate so I had to wait for a court order to draw blood from her and cut those damned fingernails so she wouldn't have any sharp objects in jail. I needed those fingernails for proof that she scratched me. She's got a whole slew of charges against her. She going to spend a long time in jail if she's convicted."

"Her daddy and mommy will have her out before the sun sets," was Mark's cynical remark.

"Not this time. The judge won't hold a bail hearing until Monday. Sherry can rest easy this weekend."

Chapter 8

Mark awoke at about four-thirty, the time he usually got up. He had almost dozed off  again when he heard what sounded like whining and scratching at the door to the breezeway. He got up and went out in just his tee shirt and shorts. There sat Laddie. The border collie gave a bark. Mark opened the door and told him. "I'm not helping with the milking this morning."
Oh, Lord, I'm talking to a dog like I would a person.

Laddie pushed past him to get inside. Mark tried to put him out. "Go home, Lad," he ordered. The dog refused to budge but ran through the open doorway to the kitchen. With a deep sigh, Mark followed him. "I better get my britches on before Sherry wakes up," he mumbled. He went to the dining room and pulled on his jeans.

"Leave Sherry alone," Mark ordered as the dog put his front paws on the daybed. Laddie poked his cold nose against Sherry's face, waking her.

"Laddie, why are you here?" she asked sleepily.

"He came to tell me it's time to do the milking," Mark explained. "He knew where to find me. He's followed Mom over yesterday. I might as well make some coffee."

"I'm going back to sleep." And she did. Laddie lay beside the daybed as if he was guarding her.

After he had the coffee brewing, Mark picked up his cell phone from the table where he'd laid it the night before. When he opened but it read "low bat." "Mom forgot my charger," he muttered.

He picked up Sherry's phone and called home. It rang several times before Jan answered it. "Mom?"

"Who were you expecting?" He ignored her grouchy answer.

"Tell Dad his dog came visiting and won't go home."

"Is that all you called me for?"

"No. We're almost out of food. Sherry never got to the grocery store yesterday. How about bringing over some bread, milk and something for breakfast like bacon and eggs. And my cell phone charger."

"I'm not a delivery service," she responded. "I'll bring them but you must cook them yourself. I have enough to do."

She arrived about fifteen minutes later with a quart jar of milk, a small dish containing six eggs, bacon and a loaf of homemade whole-wheat bread. "Sherry can keep the dish. She needs it more than I do."

"Since you're here you can take Laddie along home with you." He snapped his fingers and called the dog. Laddie looked up at him but made no move to come to him. "Look, dog, you are going home whether you like it or not."  He picked up the black border collie and toted him out to the truck. "And don't come back. You don't live here."

He closed the truck door and turned to his step-mother. "I came out for more than just to bring Laddie out. I need to talk to you."

"About?"

"Sherry. I think I'm in love with her. But I can't tell what kind a message she's sending me in return. Sometimes she responds to my kisses; sometimes she pushes me away. I don't know what to believe."

Jan thought about it a minute. "You're coming on too strong. Back off. Give her more time to get used to the idea. And be patient. She's been through a lot this past week. And we don't know what Alison put her through. She may just need some rest and time to think. She strikes me as a sensible young lady. Just give her time."

"What if she doesn't love me?"

"You will just have to learn to live with it. Love can't be forced. Either it's there or it isn't. That's all I can tell you."

"Thanks, Mom." He kissed her cheek and turned back to the house. The asphalt of driveway was cold on his bare feet. It was also chilly in the house but there was nothing he could do about it. The oil tank in the basement was empty. Dear Uncle Roy had drained it for his own furnace.

He wondered what Sherry would do about his being there after the twenty-four hours were past. He wanted to stay to take care of her forever but she might not agree to that. He took out his laptop, science book and some papers he had printed out with ideas for test questions. He had to focus on his work instead of his feelings for a certain independent young lady.

Sherry got up shortly after eight. "I'm hungry," she mumbled on her way through the kitchen to the bathroom.

Mark looked up from his work. "Mom, brought over some bacon and eggs. I figured I better wait until you got up. I'm not much of a cook."

"You must get the frying pan from the drawer under the oven. I'm not supposed to bend over."

He opened the drawer and took out the little six inch iron skillet. "You call that a frying pan? How do you intend to fry bacon and eggs in that?"

"A little bit at a time. You just pay attention to your work and let the cooking up to me."

Mark grinned at her. "A little bit bossy this morning."

She shrugged. "It's my house. If you don't like it, you're free to go home."

"The doctor said twenty-four hours. Time's not up yet."

Mark was impressed with Sherry's cooking ability. She served him crispy bacon, eggs over easy just the way he liked them and bread toasted in the oven. After they ate she did the dishes only asking for his help to put them away.

Mark went back to his work and Sherry sat tailor fashion on the daybed with her guitar. When Frank and Jan stopped by on their way to church Laddie followed them. They stopped by after church with hoagies and chocolate milk for lunch.

"I'll need you to help with the milking this evening," Frank told his son. "Mike isn't available."

Mark no longer had the bandage on his arm. Sherry had cleaned the abrasions with peroxide and left it open to the air. The striations had dried forming scabs.

"I think I can handle that. My arm doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it did."

Frank called to Laddie and snapped his fingers. The dog followed him out to Jan's SUV where he opened the back door and Laddie jumped in. "On the floor," Frank ordered, "or the old lady will kill me and you." Laddie obediently lay down on the back floor board.

Mark put his work aside long enough to eat. "At least you don't have to do dishes this time." After eating, he went back to his work.

Sherry roamed through the house thinking about what she needed to make it a better home. As she stood looking out the window in her former bedroom, she noticed the apple tree in the yard was loaded with fruit. She wondered if the apples were ripe yet. Smiling, she recalled how she used to climb on a chair to look out to see if the apples were ripe. If she remembered correctly they were yellow apples. She used to help Gram pick them and turn them into applesauce that went in the freezer.

She didn't have a freezer. She didn't even have a refrigerator. She went back downstairs and sat down on the daybed. "Mark, will you put my shoes on me?"

He came from the kitchen. "Why?"

"I want to go outside and walk around a little. It's boring sitting or lying around. The doctor did say I should walk for exercise."

"I'm almost finished with my work. I'll join you as soon as I'm through."

Sherry was under the apple tree when he came striding across the yard. "Who mowed the grass?" she asked.