Carys Jones - Fourth To Run

Her finger continued to hover with intent. She reminded herself that Aiden had told her to purchase a piano if it would make her happy. It would certainly help her feel more at home with him. Her previous conversation with her Aunt Carol still burned in her mind. Brandy was now more determined than ever to make things work in Avalon, to prove to the world that she truly was destined to be with Aiden.

“Just buy it,” Brandy urged herself. But still she was unable to commit to the purchase. She’d be spending a lot of money. Over a thousand dollars. She recalled all too easily a time was money was extremely scarce. Back when she lived with her mother in the trailer park, they barely had two dimes to rub together. What would her mother think if she could see her now purchasing her very own piano?

Thinking of her mother was enough to spur Brandy in to action. She pressed down hard on the button and bought the piano just as the online auction was about to close. Trembling with excitement and satisfaction, she sat back and lifted her gaze to the position on the wall against which she planned to place her new piano.

A warm smile brightened her face. The joy over the purchase was enough to banish the negative memories of her time with her mother back to the shadows of her mind.

*

Aiden’s brief drive did little to ease the conflict he was feeling over Guy Chambers’ call. He pulled up outside the offices of Copes and May, minus the papers he’d successfully dropped off at the town hall. Through the glass front he could see Betty busily typing away at her computer, staring distrustfully at the screen from behind her tortoiseshell glasses.

Aiden appreciated her more than ever. She’d showed him kindness about Brandy when he’d feared she’d only have hostility. Betty had surprised him. Glancing towards the other side of the street Aiden made a snap decision to grab Betty something sweet as a way of thanking her for her kind attitude.

It was a decision he swiftly regretted. As soon as he walked into the café, the gentle murmur of chatter ceased and the whole place was engulfed by a stony silence. Aiden coughed awkwardly as he approached the counter and placed his order. The assistant who usually smiled a little flirtatiously at him each morning shot him a quick, hateful glance before telling him how much money he owed. Sighing, Aiden slid out his wallet and handed over a five-dollar bill and waited on his change. He could feel numerous pairs of eyes boring in to his back, watching his every move. He just wanted to get out of there as fast as he could. With his Danish in a paper bag, he darted out of the store and didn’t look back. He was about to cross over the street to his office when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Surprised, Aiden spun around.

Deena Fern was standing on the street, her blonde hair snaking down one shoulder in a trendy plait, her designer sunglasses lifted up onto her head so that she could look him directly in the eye.

“Deena!” Aiden said in surprise. He had not seen Deena since he’d helped her during the paternity suit her late husband tried to take out against her. It had become yet another fly in the ointment of Aiden’s reputation in Avalon since he was hired by the husband, Samuel Fern, who had recently passed.

“How are you holding up?” he asked sincerely, remembering how distraught local sherriff and long-time adversary Buck Fern had been over the death of his brother Samuel.

“I’m doing okay.” Deena shrugged, her tanned shoulders partly exposed in the white tank top she was wearing. “I actually popped out to check in on you.”

“On me?” Aiden took a physical step back in surprise.

“Yes, you!” Deena confirmed with a shy smile. “You’re the talk of the town, you know. I appreciate it’s a regular thing for you, but still.”

She regarded him kindly. Deena knew all too well how cruel and judgmental the people of Avalon could be and Aiden truly appreciated her concern.

“I’ll survive.”

“He’s a real asshole that Clyde White,” Deena seethed, her friendly expression souring as she said his name.

“He got on your good side too, did he?” Aiden joked.

“When Samuel died, do you know who was the first person on my doorstep?” Deena’s eyes began to burn with hatred.

“That’s Clyde White,” Aiden shook his head dismally. “He’s Mr Concerned when it comes to anything Avalon related.”

“He wasn’t Mr Concerned that day,” Deena announced sharply. She began rubbing her arms as if feeling a sudden chill despite the warmth of the day.

“He came round to offer me more than a shoulder to cry on,” Deena continued, lowering her voice slightly and casting nervous glances around the street on which they were currently alone.

“He did?” Even though Aiden sounded surprised, he knew he wasn’t. Clyde White had never struck him as someone capable of being either honorable or decent. It made sense that he would move in on a friend’s recently widowed wife if he thought it suited his own purpose.

“He’s no saint!” Deena lifted one hand to caress her temple. “I wanted you to know that. He’s running your name through the mud when you’ve not done anything wrong. But him…he acts like he’s untouchable, like he’s a God around here. Well, he’s not. I told him to get the hell off my property.”

“And did he go?”

“He went.” Deena nodded slowly. “But not before telling me that I’d change my mind. He had this cruel grin on his face, like he knew something I didn’t.”

“He likes to mess with people,” Aiden sympathized.

“Well I didn’t appreciate it, certainly not in my time of mourning. I don’t care what shit he says about you, I know you’re a decent guy. And I want you to know that. I want you to know that I appreciate you being here in Avalon.”

“Thanks.” Aiden smiled as someone came out of the café behind them, signaling the end of their conversation.

“It’s nice to know someone does,” he called as he headed across the street, back over to his office.

*

A light curtain of rain fell silently upon the football field making Aiden’s skin glisten beneath the harsh stadium lights. Shivering slightly in his damp clothes, he trudged forward, his steps slick against the wet grass.

The stadium seemed completely deserted. Aiden scanned the stands where only shadows seemed to occupy the seats. He tightened his jacket around himself and continued to walk across the field. He was nearing the thirty-yard line when his entire body tensed with the unpleasant realization that he was being watched. Pausing, Aiden lifted his head against the rain to look back at the stands.

It took him less than a second to locate the solitary figure sat in the center, their features shrouded beneath a dark hood. Had they been there before? Aiden tried to remember but his mind felt foggy and his thoughts sluggish. For reasons beyond his comprehension, he felt drawn to the lone spectator. He changed his direction and began walking swiftly towards the stands. The figure didn’t move or seem to register Aiden approaching, they remained perfectly still.

As Aiden moved closer, he realized that the figure was wearing a battered leather jacket over their hooded jumper. A jacket which looked all too familiar.

“Hey!” Aiden forced the greeting out from the back of his throat, making his voice boom as much as possible. The figure didn’t look up.

“Hey!” Aiden quickened his pace and reached the base of the stands and began to swiftly climb the steps, heading for the row on which the figure sat. Aiden was growing in certainty that they were wearing Justin’s beloved leather jacket. But how was that even possible? He could now see the patch which covered the left elbow that had been lovingly stitched on by Justin’s mother when he made a tear in the jacket after a particularly heated bar fight.