Free If You Could See What I See by Cathy Lamb Page A

completely out of your hands.”
    “So, so true.”
    “Not that I’m giving up on trying to control Cassidy! She is turning my hair white.” We heard Cassidy laugh. “She needs a chastity belt. She needs to be a nun.”
    “She reminds me of Tory at the same age.”
    “Arghhh. You are so right. She’s a Tory, all over again.”
    “Does Tory see the kids often?”
    “No. She doesn’t like kids.” I could tell that hurt Lacey like a sword to her heart.
    “Do you invite her over? Does she feel welcome?”
    Her lips tightened. “I have, and then we get in a fight and she doesn’t come. The kids see her when Mom and Grandma are here, too.”
    What a dynamic. What a mess.
    “I love you, Meggie.”
    “Love you, too, Lacey.” Cassidy laughed again in the kitchen. “Good luck finding that chastity belt.”
     
    I love to walk at night when it’s inky dark and completely quiet.
    On Wednesday, I returned home from work after ten. I was jittery and stressed, the fear of failure wrapped around me like a straitjacket. I headed out wearing my ripped University of Oregon sweatshirt and my blue baggy sweats. It was a clear, cool night, the moon a white and gray beacon. I heard a car approaching but didn’t think anything of it until it slowed.
    I happened to be on a stretch where the houses were far apart, but I didn’t walk faster. I did nothing different. I didn’t reach for my cell phone. I didn’t try to run. I think that’s what depression does to you. It makes you inactive within your own life. Your brain works as if it has sadness flowing like a stream through it. You become eerily unafraid. Probably because you’re not sure you care about your future. Not a good place to be.
    The car stopped beside me. I imagined a creepy person, a hatchet murderer. I turned to face my soon-to-be torturer.
    “Hello, Meggie.”
    Man’s voice. Low . . . rumbly . . . and there was the man who was so much trouble.
    “Hi, Blake.” I noticed he was in an SUV, not his truck.
    “How about if you get in my car with me?”
    I told myself to speak. He looked delicious. Blond and smiling. “Thank you, no. I’m fine.” I might not be able to control my hands around you. “I’m taking a night walk.”
    “I can see that, night walker, but it’s not safe, so I’m going to drive you home.”
    I would like you to be the driver in my bed . I’m glad I did not say that out loud. “It’s not that far.”
    “It’s too far for this time of night. Come on in.”
    I would like you to come on in me.
    He got out of his SUV, walked around, and opened the door. He was wearing a gray suit and tie, so civilized, but behind the civilization was that tough look. I love when men look like men. Not primped and pretty, but harder edged and manly. The kind of man who oozes protective masculinity, ready to fight for you if he has to.
    “Climb aboard.”
    I would like to climb aboard you. “I need to walk.”
    “There is always tomorrow for walking.”
    What would it be like to wake up to him tomorrow? He was so huggable. “I need to walk tonight.”
    “And I need a beer. The sooner you’re in the car, the sooner you’re home and I’m having a beer.”
    I thought of him drinking a beer naked. I liked his body, liked that thick hair, liked those sharp gray-blue eyes that did not miss a thing.
    “Here. I’ll escort you.” He held out a hand.
    I smiled, couldn’t help it. I put my hand in his and there it was: fire and electricity, all blended up together. He blinked. I saw his eyes change. They were friendly at first, now there was something more.
    Mutual lust. Hello, mutual lust.
    I kept smiling at him, couldn’t help it. Sparks were careening off him, to me, back to him. Whizzing, dizzying sparks.
    I climbed in the car when I could gather myself together.
    He closed the door, walked around to his side, and climbed in. For a moment, I didn’t move. I could feel him, feel all of him, so close to me.
    I turned my head away and did not