Fourth To Run. Carys Jones
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“How many times?” Isla uttered in annoyance. “His name is Guy, okay? Now, do you want Mommy to put some blusher on your cheeks or not?”
Meegan eagerly hopped off the bed with a giggle and raised her dimpled cheeks up towards her mother’s large brush which was dusted with rose-tinted powder.
*
The nearest Home Depot was located about an hour outside of Avalon. Brandy wound down the car windows as they drove, savoring the sensation of the warm air pressing against her cheeks and dancing through her hair. In Chicago the air always felt heavy as though it were weighed down by too many scents. Here the air was lighter, purer. It smelled of heated Tarmac and Brandy found it oddly comforting.
Aiden drummed his hands against the steering wheel in time to the country song which was playing on the radio. Brandy arched an eyebrow in his direction as she noticed the absent smile he wore as he mirrored the rhythm with his hands.
“Since when do you like country music?” she laughed. Aiden ceased drumming, his cheeks turning red.
“I guess it has grown on me since I’ve moved here,” he explained, his hands now still against the wheel.
“Country music is the best music,” Brandy enthused as she stretched back in her seat and briefly hummed along to the melody.
“It’s sung by real people who understand real pain,” she continued.
They drove on without saying another word, letting the music from the radio fill the space between them. Brandy continued to hum along and after several minutes Aiden resumed drumming his hands on the steering wheel.
*
The parking lot for Home Depot was about half full which wasn’t that surprising considering it was late on a Saturday morning. Aiden stepped out and stretched, his limbs grateful for the release after an hour behind the wheel.
“Wow, it’s pretty big,” Brandy observed as she took in the vast building looming up at the far end of the parking lot. It was modest in design but not in scale. It’s flat roof and long bare walls cut an imposing figure on the landscape.
Aiden compared the building to Eastham Prison where he had first met Brandy. It gave off the same feeling of being a structure built for a sole purpose; to house something within. There was no warmth to the building, no unnecessary embellishments. The store’s logo was attached to the far end of the wall, just above the entrance. Everything seemed simple and functional, just like they had at the prison.
“Not the most pleasant place to look at, is it?” Brandy turned and asked, her tone bright. Aiden wondered if perhaps she had made the same comparison as he had. But the sparkle in her eyes convinced him otherwise. She seemed only to be brimming with excitement.
“There must be so much stuff inside!” Brandy continued as they walked towards the entrance. Aiden could already feel his skin heating beneath the exposed sun.
“Have you never been here before?” he wondered as he slipped his own hand against Brandy’s and intertwined their fingers. His pulse quickened upon the connection but he tried to appear calm and collected but he couldn’t deny the thrill which sparked through him, igniting all his senses. He felt like all his emotions were being jumbled together as if he were a teenager with a crush.
Brandy squeezed his hand and gave him a shy smile. Her cheeks were slightly flushed which pleased Aiden; clearly holding his hand had the same effect on her.
“No, I’ve erm…not been before,” Brandy answered as they moved out of the heat and into the welcome cool of the store. The sudden change in temperature was almost unnerving. Aiden’s previously warme skin instantly broke out in goose bumps.
“I didn’t really get out much when I was in Avalon,” Brandy added with an edge of melancholy. Aiden released her hand so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders.
“Well I’m going to take you everywhere!” he promised with a sincere smile.
“I look forward to it.”
They grabbed a shopping cart and sauntered behind it as they went deeper into the store. Together they drifted down the aisles as if in a dream. They were oblivious to the other shoppers around them; lost in their own private world.
Brandy cooed and giggled over various items she found and the cart soon began to fill up with curtains, cushions and tins of paint. Aiden watched in quiet awe as Brandy excitedly wandered up yet another aisle, approaching everything with childlike wonder. He envied her ability to always see the good in the world, he also admired it. Despite everything she’d been through; the hardships of her early life, the brutality of her first marriage and finally being wrongly accused of murder, she still retained a bright, optimistic outlook. The life she’d endured would have crushed most people’s spirits but Brandy had arose from the ashes like a golden phoenix; powerful and beautiful.
“What about this?” Brandy was holding a scented candle jar. She drew it up to her nose and sniffed deeply. Her face crinkled slightly and then she smiled.
“Ooh, it smells like winter,” she gushed approvingly. “Smell it!” she held out the candle to Aiden and he lowered himself so that he could sniff the colored wax. He had to admit that it did indeed smell of winter. There were hints of pine needles with undertones of candy cane.
“It would be a nice candle to light at Christmas,” Brandy was holding the candle up to her eye line, turning it round and scrutinizing it in great detail as though it were some wondrous artefact she had just discovered.
“Well what have we here?” The smile which Aiden had been wearing promptly fell. His entire body stiffened as he turned in the direction of the voice; a voice he knew all too well.
A feeling of dread washed over Aiden as he glanced down the aisle and saw Clyde White standing just behind him. He was holding a basket in which a few modest items had been placed. Clyde looked first at Aiden and then his gaze passed to Brandy.
Aiden wanted to grab Brandy’s hand, turn and run back down the long aisle, whisking her away from Clyde White and his cruel judgement. The goliath within Avalon’s community would surely still hold a grudge against her, refusing to accept that she wasn’t to blame for his beloved son, Brandon’s death. The blame for the crime lay with the real killer, Father West, but like most of Avalon, Clyde was reluctant to accept such a truth.
“Out for a little shopping trip?” Clyde asked. He delivered the question pleasantly enough but his words were dripping with malice. His hand tightened its grip on his basket as his eyes darkened and narrowed.
Brandy nervously dropped the candle she had been holding into the shopping cart and stood behind it, using it as a barrier between her and Clyde.
“I see you’ve bought the Whore of Babylon with you,” Clyde remarked cruelly. Aiden clenched his jaw and reminded himself to remain calm.
“I didn’t even know your wife had left town,” Clyde continued. “I bet her bed is still warm. Are there no depths you won’t sink to?” He lifted his gaze to deliver the question