Brenda and Jackson

I've been writing this one for a coworker for a couple weeks now, one piece at a time. Not as fractured as the one from last week, and with a better idea of where I'm going with it. Well, sort of.

The character of Brenda is better developed, anyway. :)

Let me know what you think.

***

Wafting tendrils of sweet steam played tricks on her eyes, forming faces and figures, beckoning to her. The hiss of the kettle as it cooled seemed to whisper warnings to her, and if she could just hear them…

“Bren? You alright?”

Startled from her reverie, Brenda looked over her shoulder at the man approaching from the back door, setting his boots on the rack. His tanned face was seamed with worry lines as he looked at her, lines which had only deepened over the last weeks.

“I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“You were a hundred miles away,” he said softly, and stopped behind her, putting his hands on her waist. Well, what was left of it. She didn’t feel his left hand, though she sensed it mirrored the right.

Brenda shifted a little and tipped her head so she could press a kiss to his jaw. “I was just thinking,” she repeated, this time with an encouraging smile. “I’ve got a lot to think about. And what about you? How are the dogs?” An odd expression flashed across his face, and she remembered, as if from a dream, that pitiful heap of fur in the back yard.

“We don’t have the dogs anymore, Bren.” He didn’t say it, but there was a “we’ve talked about this before” tone to the words.

“Right. I forgot.” She blushed and looked away, staring hard at her tea.

“It’s okay. I’m here for you.” His arms slid around her and gave her a light squeeze.

~*~*~

She couldn’t help but watch him. Her mind was buzzing with implications she was sure he hadn’t intended to make. Jackson looked so tired and careworn, she couldn’t really bring herself to be angry with him, but at the same time - she couldn’t forget his words, either.

“Just let it rest a while, Brenda. Don’t make it worse.” His tone had been gentle, his expression tired and concerned. But… ‘make it worse’? She looked down. Under the heavy denim of her skirt, she couldn’t see it, but she knew it was there. It was always there. It was always between them, like a wall. His memories, her lack of memories, her injuries, his losses - they were both broken, and somehow, it was her fault. She couldn’t remember what happened, but she was positive it must have been her fault.

“Bren?” He was back now, a cup of coffee in each hand. He must have seen a look on her face that he didn’t like, because he set the cups down and took her hand. His fingers were hot from handling the coffee, and just a touch sweaty. Maybe that should have been unpleasant, but it didn’t seem that way. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Brenda felt a sort of twisting sensation in her chest as she looked into his face. “Why do you stay?” The question wasn’t the one she’d meant to ask, but as soon as the words were out, she needed to know, desperately.

Jackson’s eyes widened, and he drew back slightly - not as though he were hurt by the question, but like he was… afraid.

Why was he afraid? Brenda leaned forward and gripped his hand a little tighter. “Why do you stay?” she asked again, more firmly this time.