Homefires by Emily Sue Harvey Read Free Book Online Page A

spine. I rushed to get the tablet I wrote in when things built up.
    Later that night in bed, I shared my fears with Kirk.
    “Chuck’s got a lot of junk to get rid of,” Chuck said grimly then kissed my forehead. “ I’ll take you to see MawMaw and Papa, honey, any time you want. Kirk will take care of his girl,” he murmured against my temple, ruffling my hair as I spooned back against him. “ Didn’t I promise?”
    “Mm hm.” My lids drooped as his strong arms closed around me, securing me to him.
    I was safe.

CHAPTER THREE
    I felt like a bird out of prison, as the old country gospel song goes.
    Kirk and I took our liberties. In the following months, we did everything if and when we darn well wanted to. We ate, slept and made love that way – even attended church sporadically when it pleased us. After my extreme daddy-ordered life and Kirk’s self-parenting existence, we were ready to do our own thing.
    Our own thing was each other. It was building a new, better life, seeing only the good in one another. Tonight, on a cool October evening, it was going to Jimbo’s Nook and spending our last two dollars on his incomparable minced barbecue sandwiches, holding hands and listening to Silhouettes from someone else’s jukebox-deposited change.
    “Let’s dance.” Kirk took my hand and turned me into his arms. The place was nearly empty except for a couple of teen girls who watched us wistfully, dreamily. I held my breath, hoping Kirk’s second left foot was off duty tonight. He only stepped on my toes twice during that song.
    “Here’s to the newlyweds,” Jimbo said, pulling change from his apron pocket as he came from behind the counter. “What’ll it be, Neecy?”
    “ Special Angel ,” I said, grinning all over myself. It was our favorite. “Thanks, Jimbo.” Slow-dancing, we relived high school sock hops, whispering and laughing, reminiscing over Callie’s gypsyish, uninhibited behavior and Moose’s doofus, sweet ways and silly drunken escapades.
    The teen girls put more change into the jukebox and A Certain Smile kept our feet moving and our hearts beating as one. “Let’s adopt each other’s family,” I gushed impulsively, warmed and magnanimous and crazy in love.
    He gazed into my eyes for long moments, a slow, cool analytical look that suddenly warmed and made my heart do a flip. “Case you hadn’t noticed, darlin’,” he drawled lazily, “I have adopted your family as my own. I feel closer to Joe than I’ve ever felt to my own father.”

    That was true. “That’s what I wish I had with your family,” I said longingly
    Kirk’s face turned to stone. “Is something wrong?” I asked quietly, my heart thumping hard. He stared over my head now, avoiding eye contact. I felt his withdrawal
    “I wish you could accept—reality.” His uneasy gaze lowered and swept over my features. “I don’t want them to hurt you.”
    I let it drop. Our wave lengths weren’t in the same atmosphere. But that was okay. I was learning our childhood experiences veered us emotionally in totally opposite directions.
    “I’m glad, Kirk, that you’re close to Daddy,” I said, then stopped dancing suddenly. The room was beginning to spin crazily and the lights to blur. “Kirk?” I grasped the front of his shirt. “I’m dizzy. …”
    “Neecyyyyyyy……”
    My name echoed on and on. Then, everything went black.

    “Eight weeks pregnant,” was Dr. Woodruff’s diagnosis.
    Pregnant and so sick I turned green. Honest – as Kirk is my witness. My finely tuned senses augmented smells and sights, that’d once enthralled me, into stench.
    Suddenly, Kirk’s cigarettes stank worse than any other scent in this vast universe. Just a whiff of their smoke – that invaded every molecule of indoor space – sent me scurrying to the bathroom to throw up or as Grandma Whitman would have said, to puke.
    Unrefined though she was, I had to agree. There is a difference.
    Finally, by the third month, I had only to