Under Dust Painted Skies
Chapter FourSoft lips covered the bare skin between his shoulder blades. Sighing softly, Zac kept his tired eyes closed as smooth hands joined the lips. The hands traveled the length of his back, tickling slightly over his sides. He squirmed and his eyes cracked open to take in the soft lighting fueled by the rising sun.
He smiled contentedly, as his mind gradually woke from a peaceful sleep and took in the sensations of the gentle attention paid to his bare skin. His eyes moved to the clock on the bedside table.
"It's a bit early, isn't it?" he murmured.
"Mmm, never too early to appreciate such a fine specimen," the owner of the lips and hands sighed.
Zac's muscles immediately stiffened. The voice did not belong to his wife, as he expected. Shocked, he rolled onto his back and turned his head. Confusion turned to back to shock as he took in the face of the woman sharing his bed.
"Remy?"
Zac groaned as his eyes opened. He pressed an arm over his eyes, as the confusion from his dream washed over him. "Fucking Taylor," he muttered into the darkness. He blamed his brother for putting such nonsensical ideas into his head during his visit the evening before.
Sighing, Zac sat up, rubbing his eyes. The clock on the bedside table read 3:07 a.m.
"Another sleepless night," Zac grumbled. "Great. Who needs sleep anyway?"
He raked his fingers through his hair as he climbed out of bed. His bare feet slid along the cool floorboards as he made his way into the master bath. He flicked on the overhead light and squinted against the brightness as he walked to the sink. He grimaced at his reflection. Despite the fairly nice evening he'd had, the circles under his eyes had deepened.
He hadn't slept soundly in days. Nanette's call about the book offer seemed to have dragged his thoughts of Kate to the forefront of his mind. He'd relived her death in his sleep every night until tonight. Apparently, Taylor's ridiculous babble has seeped into his subconscious and manifested itself in his dreams.
Even if he couldn't deny that he found Remy attractive, that didn't mean Taylor's accusations had any validity. Remy was a beautiful, smart and caring woman, but any man would have to be blind not to recognize these traits her in. That, however, didn't mean he was itching to hook up with her.
Zac splashed some cool water on his face as he tried to imagine how awkward that would be. It wasn't as if he could just walk away if things didn't work out. Maybe he could lock her out of the house, but he'd still see her coming and going next door.
Zac rolled his eyes. He didn't know why he wasn't even considering it. His relationship with Remy wasn't like that. Even if he felt that way about her, he needed a friend - and an assistant - more than he needed a lover. It wasn't as if he had much of a sex drive anymore anyway. Sometimes he felt like a monk, living the way he did. Only when the notion struck full force would he indulge in his porn stash or take matters into his own hands.
He snorted at the ridiculousness of his thoughts and splashed some more cold water on his hot face before switching off the faucet. Face damp and dripping at the chin, he flicked of the overhead light and made his way downstairs. It looked like it was going to be another long day, so coffee was a necessity.
He stumbled through the darkness to the kitchen. By now, it seemed he should have known the ins and outs of the house like the back of his hand, yet his tired mind always seemed to lead him astray. He cursed softly after stubbing his toe on the doorframe.
Like a zombie, he went to the refrigerator, grabbed the coffee and crossed over to the coffee maker. He went through the motions of preparing the coffee maker without giving it any thought. As he stuck the lid on the Folgers, he glanced outside. As always, the streets were dark and empty. No lights shone from any of the surrounding houses. Everyone seemed to be fast asleep, which only grated at Zac's tired mind.
"Don't realize how good they have it, being able to just pass out and sleep," he muttered. He knew his bitterness was only spurred on by his exhaustion.
After he returned the coffee container to the refrigerator, he moved to stand by the coffeemaker. The rich scent filled the moderate sized kitchen and helped to clear his mind only slightly.
He returned his gaze to the window, wondering what it was like outside at this time of night. It had rained several days this week. It seemed to be starting extra early, and he wondered if that would only increase come April.
It was stupid, but he missed the smell of rain. Sometimes he'd catch the scent on Luca or Remy as they hurried inside to keep from getting soaked. He liked to gather Luca in his arms and inhale the heady, earthy scent that seemed to blend with her fruity shampoo. Thinking of Luca reminded him of how it had felt to hold her in his arms the previous evening. She'd cuddled up to him and promptly passed out, and cradling her to his chest seemed to warm his heart.
It always felt so bittersweet. He'd hold Luca and wonder if it would have felt the same way to hold his own child. He and Kate hadn't even had a chance to really start trying, but after the decision had been made, they'd lie together in bed, usually after making love, and talk about all of the possibilities. What if it's a girl? What if it's a boy? What should we name him or her? If it's a boy, he'll play soccer. If it's a girl, she can take ballet lessons. Zac had declared that either way he would teach their child to play drums, and Kate had cringed at the thought of the noise it would create. They'd wondered if their children would be left-handed like Zac or right-handed like Kate. They wondered which of them their child would favor, or if he or she would be a mishmash of the both of them.
He'd loved pondering the possibilities, and now they were all gone. There was no potential.
He pushed those thoughts away with a heavy sigh and stared out into the darkness, letting it seep into his mind and cover everything else he didn't wish think about. It almost worked until his eyes adjusted to the darkness and made out the shape of a person moving around across the street.
Stupidly, he leaned in toward the window, as if the extra inches would make his night vision miraculously better. He squinted and willed his eyes to adjust further. It was difficult to see, but he could tell that the person was a man, and after a moment he realized the man looked to be the right height and build for his neighbor - Mr. Cline, as Remy had referred to him.
While that solved any immediate worry of an intruder lurking around, Zac frowned, wondering what the man was doing out at this time of night. When Mr. Cline finally made his way to his car, he popped the trunk and Zac vaguely remembered seeing him doing something similar no more than a week earlier.
Like the last time, it appeared Mr. Cline was toting something along. As before, Zac couldn't tell for sure what it was he was carrying - at least not until it passed under the faint light in the trunk. It gleamed slightly and Zac recognized it as a trash bag.
"Huh," Zac said to himself. He couldn't fathom why anyone would be up at this time of night to put a trash bag in his or her trunk. He was even more perplexed when Mr. Cline paused to look around, as if making sure no one was watching him. Instinctively, Zac stepped back away from the window, even though he knew his neighbor wasn't likely to be able to see him standing there. After a moment, Mr. Cline pushed the trunk down, slowly, and even though logic told him that he was probably trying to be quiet so as not to disrupt any of his neighbors, Zac just knew that this was not Mr. Cline's reasoning.
An odd feeling seemed to saturate his body. He couldn't even put a name to the feeling, but he knew he didn't like it.
When Zac heard the quiet purr of an engine, he stepped back up to the window and watched as Mr. Cline backed out of his driveway and sped down the quiet street. He frowned after the car for a moment
He couldn't quite shake the strange feeling that passed over him, but as the taillights disappeared down the street, the feeling seemed to fade. He shook his head muttering to himself, "I really need to get a decent night's sleep. I think I'm starting to lose it."
--
On Sunday morning, Zac decided to be a good brother and call Taylor to wish him a happy birthday. He'd been up since bright and early after more dreams. This time he'd dreamed that he'd managed to leave the house to go to the grocery store with Remy. Then while in the parking lot, Brielle Jensen had appeared and shot Remy. As she'd died in his arms, she had turned into Kate.
Needless to say, it had been a rough night. Running on no more than a few hours of sleep had him feeling a bit jumpy. Even the coffee wasn't doing much good. It only seemed to make him jitterier. He'd passed out on the couch for about an hour but had woken suddenly. He'd felt the way he often did after a bad dream, but he had been unable to remember dreaming that time.
Moving around seemed to keep him more focused, so he'd whiled away the hours with painting. Then, as soon as it was a decent time, Zac had called Taylor's house. In his sleep deprived haze, he'd called the house phone and had to speak briefly to Natalie.
"The painting is great, Zac," she insisted. "Taylor absolutely loves it. We hung it in the front foyer."
"I'm glad he liked it," Zac answered. It always felt awkward to hear people gush about something he made, which made no sense after years of girls fawning over his and his brother's music. Praise from Natalie felt even more awkward. She was a sweet girl, and he loved her like a sister, but speaking to her only ever made him feel guilty. It was because of him that she'd lost someone she'd known nearly all of her life and had loved not only as a best friend but also as a sister.
He could still remember vividly the way she looked at the hospital when they came to visit him. Her eyes had been hollow and her face lifeless. She'd barely even looked at him, and even in his drug induced haze, he had been able to tell that she wished to be anywhere but in his hospital room. He understood her pain and it served to remind him of his guilt.
He and Natalie had never been particularly close, much the same way Taylor and Kate hadn't been close, but they were family. He'd always felt comfortable around Natalie, and he'd thought that was because there were, in the loosest form of the word, friends. Now, he often wondered if that was true. Maybe he'd only ever felt comfortable around Natalie because he knew how much she meant to Kate because even just speaking to her briefly nowadays was always fraught with awkwardness.
It was if in those tense silences he could feel the accusation radiating from her. He knew she would never verbalize such a thing - even if only for Taylor's sake - but she didn't have to. Zac could feel it, and often times he'd find himself going over that day again and again, trying to figure out how he could have changed the end result.
Maybe he could have saved Kate if he'd been faster or smarter. If he hadn't frozen up and lost precious moments, maybe he wouldn't have found himself watching the life leave Kate's lovely toffee colored eyes.
Speaking to Natalie always brought these thoughts and feelings back tenfold, so when she finally handed the phone over to Taylor, his relief was palpable. Instead of having a nice conversation with Taylor, like he had hoped, to serve as redemption for missing his birthday dinner, Zac awkwardly wished him happy birthday and got off the phone as quickly as possible.
As soon as he hung up the phone, his chest seemed to become a swirl of anxiety and guilt.
"Such a fuck up," he muttered to himself, clenching his fists as anger surged through his body. By some grace, he managed to squash his urge to hit something. He knew it would do no good. He'd lost himself in anger too many times in the past few years, hit or threw something only to regret it later.
After getting himself in check, he attempted to paint. Sometimes it helped to sooth his sour moods, but he found no solace in the action. It only served to remind him of the painting he made for Taylor, which in turn only seemed to remind him of his disastrous phone call.
Finding painting a lost cause, he returned to the main floor of the house and parked himself on the couch. Somewhere in the middle of watching a mindless movie, he passed out.
When he woke, it was to the sound of rain pounding on the roof. He stared out the window for some time after that. His mind was a swirl of emotions that he couldn't seem to get a handle on. He hoped for Remy and Luca to stop by soon if only just to distract his mind, but he knew Luca was with her dad for the day and Remy would likely take advantage of the day to herself since they were so few. Part of his brain couldn't help but wonder if she didn't truly need the break from him rather than motherhood. Between himself and Luca, he suspected he was the more tiresome one.
The rest of his Sunday was spent watching mind numbing movies. Remy called later in the evening on the pretense of asking if she forgot a book at his place, but he suspected she was really just checking on him.
When he went to bed that night, he said a silent prayer to a God he wasn't sure he even believed in, hoping for a restful night of sleep.
--
While he somehow managed to sleep for four solid hours, his prayers ultimately went unanswered. He dreamed of the day Kate died yet again. There was some inkling in the back of his mind that said it wished for the reoccurrence of the dream about Remy, jarring as it was.
Instead of forcing himself downstairs to make coffee and work on his painting, Zac instead lie in bed. It wasn't something he did often, mostly because it always felt so lonely and was so associated with the nightmares. Tonight, he was too exhausted to move.
He flipped on the television and watched infomercials through bleary eyes. Around the fourth time of watching a thirty-minute episode about the Sham-Wow, he decided he'd had enough of that and switched to the news, which was thankfully just coming on.
He listened as the weatherman rattled off the forecast for the week and felt stupid for even bothering since it really made no difference to him. At least I'll know if Remy or anyone else asks, he thought in an attempt to cheer himself up.
It was the little things like this that always seemed to get to him. Since his time of becoming a shut in, he'd resolved himself to the idea of always being removed from societal norms. He was never part of the crowd, but instead someone caged within who could only see the world in small glimpses. This was probably how many people felt who had never traveled away from the small towns they were born and raised in. Zac, on the other hand, had traveled the world several times over before he was even allowed to drive a car, so being stuck in such a small world as he was now was often stifling; yet, the thought of opening his front door was absolutely terrifying.
His stomach churned as he remembered the day he was no longer able to even answer the door. The phobia hadn't come on quite as quickly as everyone seemed to believe. His anxiety and grief had been the starting point, or so he believed. Scared though he was, his family had been able to get him out of the house at first.
Moving into this house had been at the top of his priority list. While Zac loved the place, it hadn't been Kate's first choice, which was why he wound up choosing it in the end. The thought of living in the home he was meant to share with Kate and their future children had been too much. They'd had an offer in on the other house when Kate died. He never did hear whether or not that offer had been accepted because as soon as he could wrap his mind around things, he'd withdrew the offer and placed one on this house.
His family packed up the apartment he and Kate had been living in. They had placed all of her things in the attic, which had sent Zac into a rage initially. He spent several days after moving into the house, picking through those items, looking at the pieces he had left of her. He'd only brought a few of them down, and he'd only revisited the attic a few times since then.
He'd tried to cope with his grief and fears, but he couldn't get past feeling so exposed every time he left the house. That was when he'd stopped leaving unless his family had insisted or it was absolutely necessary. It was amazing to realize he could go days without leaving, but now he was certain that was what had allowed him to sink into the pit he now lived in.
The first time he left the house after staying in for a week he had a panic attack in a store parking lot. Part of him assumed that the parking lot itself played a role in the panic, considering what had happened. He tried not to stay in as much after that by venturing out into either his front or back yard. That was how he and Remy really became friends. She'd brought him a pie when he first moved in, but he hadn't been overly receptive to her company, though he'd almost immediately fallen into Luca's grasp.
Over time, despite venturing out into the yard, it gradually became difficult to walk to the end of the yard to get the mail. The space he could operate in seemed to close in after that. He couldn't go past the sidewalk or the driveway. Then he couldn't go any further than the patio. Then one day stepping outside the front door was impossible. For almost a year he was still capable of answering the front door, which made getting things delivered, as a means to sustain life, possible.
Remy lost her job around the time he stopped being able to answer the door. She had already been going out of her way to bring him his mail each day, and she and Luca would come by on occasion just to hang out. She was really his only friend, so he'd wanted to help her out as best he could, but it wasn't as if he wasn't thinking of himself as well.
Taking on the painting career had really added some meat to her job description; otherwise, Zac figured she would have refused payment for the help she provided him with.
Thinking of this now only caused his heart to ache further.
He really did not want Remy to go. It wasn't for the reasons Taylor claimed, of course. He couldn't deny that the dream he had with Remy wasn't enjoyable, but he was also aware it was brought on by Taylor's suggestive comments. No, he would simply miss her company.
His heart pounded with anxiety as he wondered what these changes would mean for him. He almost wished she had waited to tell him. They were still several months off, but those months only served as a reminder and a source of anxiety. Part of his brain hoped that she would change her mind, but he knew Remy likely did not make this decision lightly. Convincing her to change her mind could be quite difficult, and he wasn't sure he knew the right words to bend her will to his own. He'd never been good at that sort of thing.
Isaac and Taylor often complained about squabbles they had with their wives. Or at least they had. Either because they felt bad complaining when Zac no longer had a wife to speak of or simply because they weren't as close as they once had been, they didn't too often bring up their marriages now. Zac and Kate hadn't had the perfect relationship, of course; no one did, but their relationship seemed to be pretty equal footed. When they first started dating, most people hadn't expected their relationship to last due to various reasons - the age difference, the distance, their personality differences, but they had persevered and been right on the cusp of getting everything they wanted. Funny how quickly a dream can shatter so completely.
After Kate's death, Zac had wondered a million times over how different things would have been if they hadn't waited so long first to get married and then in turn to start a family, but no matter which way he cut it, getting married at twenty was still starting early and at eighteen, there was no way he would have been ready to settle down.
All these thoughts seemed to swirl around him for a time, but eventually Zac's mind broke free of the what ifs, maybes and could-have-beens when a face appeared on the upper right hand corner of the television screen. The newscaster was talking, but it took Zac a moment to return to the present and comprehend what they were saying.
". . . was last seen nearly nine days ago," the newscaster explained. "She attended a concert with friends but never returned home. Police are still actively pursuing the case as a missing persons. If you have any information on the whereabouts of Myra Barton, police request you call the number shown at the bottom of the screen."
It was news stories like this one that seemed to reinforce Zac's drive to stay inside. These kinds of stories never really seemed to get to him before, but that was back when everything they talked about on the news could only happen to other people. He'd learned the hard way that wasn't true.
Having had enough bad thoughts for one morning, Zac switched off the television and headed downstairs. He started a fresh pot of coffee and booted up his laptop to check out his dailies. He hadn't understood what this meant for a long time, but now he had a whole store of sites he felt compelled to visit every morning after the sun had finally come up.
As he was updating his Netflix queue, Luca skipped into the room with Remy close behind, toting a box of Krispy Kreme donuts. He could almost taste them on his tongue; the scent was so thick in the air.
After giving Luca a one armed hug, he reached for the box to help himself only to have his hand slapped away. "What the . . ." he caught himself before cursing in front of Luca, but Remy's glare was still firmly in place as he looked up at her.
"You could at least have the courtesy of saying hello," she grouched.
"Sorry," Zac muttered. "Hello, Oscar."
"Mommy's name isn't Oscar," Luca giggled as she hopped up into the seat next to Zac.
"No, but she sure is acting like Oscar the Grouch," he explained. "Only thing she's missing is the trash can."
Luca giggled again, and Remy's glare intensified. "What's wrong with you?" he asked as he reached again, cautiously this time, for the box of donuts.
Remy sighed and the scowl faded slightly, "Long weekend." She gave no further explanation, and Zac assumed it was because it was about Alec, and Remy didn't want to mention Luca's father in front of her. He'd have to remember to ask about it later.
After a quick breakfast, Remy sent Luca off to brush her teeth. Zac couldn't remember exactly when both Luca and Remy had decided to start leaving a toothbrush in his downstairs bathroom, but when he finally noticed, he'd been slightly surprised and unnerved by the fact that it didn't bother him.
As soon as Luca scampered out of the room, Zac turned to Remy, who was collecting the dirty napkins Luca had left behind. "So, what's wrong?" he asked.
Remy didn't look up as she cleared off the table, but she sighed in the way Zac had come to know meant she was annoyed by something. "Alec started seeing someone," she replied.
Zac frowned but didn't reply immediately. He couldn't understand the tone of Remy's voice, so he wasn't sure how he was meant to react to the news. Remy and Alec had split over a year ago, and as far as Zac had been able to tell, it wasn't a relationship Remy was particularly sad to see end. Back when she was still acting as a thoughtful neighbor and she'd stopped by to drop of his mail, she'd come into the house on a few occasions. A few times she'd seemed particularly upset and had broke down after some gentle prodding and admitted that she and Alec were fighting.
He hadn't pried, thinking it wasn't his place to ask what they'd fought about, but she'd waved it off most of the time anyway, saying it was nothing.
Zac figured they'd eventually work it out. All couples fought, as he well knew, but then one day he'd been gazing out the window and watched as Alec loaded box after box into the trunk of his car.
Luca had been the one to announce that her daddy had moved out. She'd seemed a little sad by this fact at first, but after her first couple of weekend visits with her dad, she seemed fine. Remy's mood actually seemed to brighten, which led Zac to believe that the split had been for the best.
Now, though, he wasn't so sure. Surely Alec had dated since he and Remy parted ways. It had been a year, after all, but as soon as Zac thought this, he realized how ridiculous it was for him to think that way, when he himself was still unable after three years to even move past the death of his wife.
It's not the same, he thought. Alec and Remy had broken up. No one had died. The situation was entirely different.
"Well, you and he were together for a long time, so I'm sure it's a bit of an, ah, adjustment . . ." Zac began, but when Remy snorted, he stopped. He looked up at her, alarmed that he might have said just the wrong thing, but she was smiling.
"Zac, I don't care about that," she laughed. "I haven't been in love with Alec for a long time."
Zac frowned, "Then what's the problem?"
Remy's smile faded and she sat down in the seat across from Zac. "Apparently, she's staying with Alec," she explained. "Luca told me when I spoke to her on the phone Friday night before she went to bed."
Zac still wasn't sure what to say, so he just waited.
Luckily, Remy went on. "Lulu didn't seem to like her that much, and I can't say if that's just because she's not used to seeing either of us with other people or if the problem is the woman herself, but it just makes me so mad that Alec wouldn't at least discuss something like this with me first."
Zac waited for clarification on what this was. Remy glanced up at him and seemed to see that he wasn't quite on the same page as her. "I know that he dates. God knows that man couldn't go a week without getting laid."
Zac winced at this news, not wanting to think of Alec and Remy together in that way. Remy smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I'm sure that's too much information."
Zac shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant as he ignored the unfamiliar feeling that started in the pit of his stomach in response to the thought of Remy with a man.
"I just don't appreciate him springing this new relationship on Luca that way," Remy explained. "He could have at least introduced them before he had her living with him, or he should have told me about this. I could have talked to her."
"That was a bad call on his part," Zac agreed. "But Luca's a good kid, well adjusted. I'm sure she'll be okay. It will probably just take a little getting used to."
"You're probably right," Remy agreed. "I just don't want her weekends with her dad to be marred by the presence of someone she doesn't care for."
"Well, you said he kind of sprung it on both of you," Zac commented. "Maybe next time will be better because she'll know what to expect. Hopefully, things will go smoother, and if not, then I'm sure she'll let you know and you'll sort it out."
"Yeah, I guess," Remy shrugged. After a moment, she stood and finished collecting the trash from the table and went to dispose of it.
The conversation made Zac curious, though, and before he could really think about it, he asked, "Have you dated anyone since you and Alec split up?"
Remy's back was to him as he spoke, so he noticed the way her shoulders seemed to tense. "No, not really," she admitted after a moment. "Why do you ask?"
Zac shrugged even though she couldn't see him. "I was just curious."
Her shoulders seemed to relax slightly and after a moment she turned around and returned to the table. They sipped on their coffee in silence until Luca returned from brushing her teeth.
"Lemme see," Remy said, raising an eyebrow. Luca huffed before pulling her lips back in a giant smile, showing off her small white teeth. Remy nodded her approval, and Luca's smile slid away slightly but not completely as she turned to Zac.
"Can we paint after school?" she asked, her eyes wide and hopeful.
Zac didn't particularly feel like painting, or doing much of anything, but he nodded anyway. "Sure, Lulu."
She grinned broadly and then skipped out of the room.
"So, you have anything you need me to mail or anything?" Remy asked as she checked her wristwatch.
"Not today," he replied. He hadn't heard from Nanette since her phone call about the book deal. He presumed she was giving him time to cool off, and while he was still a bit angry that she would even mention it to him, he was mostly over it, which meant he should probably give her a call this afternoon. "I might have some stuff later or some tomorrow. I need to talk to Nanette."
"Letting her off the hook," Remy murmured as she stood once again. Zac didn't answer, but he watched as she carried her coffee cup to the sink. "You should think about doing some cleaning if Nanette doesn't put you to work, getting things ready to mail off."
"Yeah, I know," Zac sighed but he made no commitment to doing so.
"I'll check in with you later," Remy commented, rubbing his shoulder for a moment as she reached for her purse on the other side of him at the table. Zac relished the contact, but gave no outward reaction to her touch.
"See you," he said softly as she disappeared from the room. After a moment, he heard Luca call out a goodbye followed by the slamming of the front door, and once again he was alone.