The Wooden Swan Cuckoo Clock
By Schroederplayspiano
Four-Oh-Six pm: Turn The Lights Down Low (Or The End To Tallahassee)
By four o'clock in December, the sun has already begun to set. I sometimes forget how far north we are, as the cold never seems to bother me. My indifference to cold must have played a part in volunteering to watch Henry's horseback riding practice. That, and of course, the fact that I've missed every kind of 'practice' my son has ever had.
I lean my elbows on the railing, watching Henry trot around the ring. His sits up very nicely, lifting himself up and down with his horse's movements. I put on a smile as he rides to me, but automatically lose it when he passes. Shifting my weight to my other leg, I reach up to my ponytail, letting it out and waiting for a gust of wind to take hold of it.
My wish instantly brings up events of the past week. It's funny how a simple action, like letting your down, can bring in a wave of memories; the yelling, the fighting, the tears. If I was really being honest, watching Henry ride might have been an excuse to escape everything rather than a desire to ease my guilt as a mother.
Finally, a gust of wind does blow past me, forcing my hair back. I bring my hands up to my face and wipe them over it in attempt to reduce the tension I am holding there.
"Hey." I hear his whisper behind me. I don't turn at it, hoping to extend my escape a few seconds longer. Without turning, I feel him beside me, brushing his arm over mine when he rests it on the fence. "Trying to escape?"
I shake my head softly and I can't help a smile from teasing my lips. "Don't pretend like you know me so well, Neal." I whisper back.
"I'm not." He continues quietly. "I can notice when someone is overwhelmed though," He shrugs.
Still focusing on Henry, I comment, "You sound like your Father."
I can't see his reaction, but am surprised when he doesn't raise his voice. "No – Papa would say that and then add a threat to it – or store it in the deep creases in his mind, only to use it against you later."
"Right." I finally look at him. "And you would never do that."
Something happens when our eyes lock. Silent questions are asked, and soon answered, the deeper our gazes hold.
Finally, thinking of August, I tear myself from his hold on me. I try to refocus on Henry's riding only to blur my vision on some point on the horizon.
"I just hate to see you so unhappy." He admits breathlessly.
I laugh at loud at his comment. Shaking my head, I look down at the dirt in the ring.
"It's not his fault, Emma." He defends August for the first time. "Everything that happened between us, the decisions he and I made together, they're not his fault. He was put in an impossible position, and we were trying to do what was best for you."
"Why are you saying this now, Neal?" I whisper, looking up to find that undefined spot in the hills again. "After the week all three of us have had?"
"I don't know…When I came into town – it's not like I was expecting to get back together, but after seeing that you kept my car, all those feelings and hopes that I had twelve years ago rushed back to me. Then finding that the two of you were together – were basically engaged, I kind of lost it. Throw a son in that mix and all hope of control is gone. But," he waits for me to look at him. "It's no excuse, especially considering I left you in the first place."
My forehead creases in doubt and confusion. I move so that I'm facing him and cross my arms. At a normal volume, I question, "What game are you playing?"
"No game," He still whispers and I sense that he's not lying. But, as of late, my superpower seems to be unreliable. "I just want to see you happy, truly. You deserve that. More than anything, I just want you to be happy – you and Henry."
Once again, the looks deepen between us. At some point he places his hand on my cheek and begins to stroke it with his thumb.
Something pulls my gaze from him in the barn's direction. I jerk away from Neal the second I see August staring at us.
Damnit!
As one would expect, after August's and my eyes collide, he starts walking away from me quickly.
"No!" I call after him. "Wait!" I run after August, pulling on his elbow as soon as it's in reach. "Wait." I whisper, begging him to stay.
August does stop, however he doesn't speak, leaving his hurt expression to do all the talking.
"That was nothing, okay?" I move closer to him, when he doesn't respond, doesn't reach out, I lean my forehead to his. "It's nothing." I whisper.
August doesn't move out of our position for a moment and he gives me hope. My heart starts to break, though, when his eyes close to absorb my touch. He pulls away too soon and I physically feel pain in my chest.
"Don't lie to Pinocchio, Emma." He states coldly. "It's a really stupid decision to make."
"Oh," My words slip from my lips before I can help it. "Like you're in any position to tell me about stupid decisions."
August throws his arms in air, taking one more step further away from me. I close my eyes, but hold by ground, giving myself no other option than to wait him out.
"What do you want me to say, Emma?" He asks softly after several minutes of silence.
"Whatever you want to say, August."
Even though he has never used this excuse, I know his words before they are spoken. "You knew who I was before we got together."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I say sarcastically. "My bad for seeing the best in you and not realizing that your permanent immaturity and selfishness caused you to steal my money and put me in jail because it was easier than actually being honest with me. On top of that, you break my heart into a thousand pieces causing me not to trust again for the next ten years of my life. Even my forgiveness of Pinocchio makes me look like a fool – and worse, it makes me feel like one."
"Well, I was never good enough for you."
"What crap!" I raise my voice at him. "You don't get to use that excuse. Not after everything."
"Oh, ok, Princess Emma," He says angrily. "What excuse would you like to hear?"
His use of my title, a title that we only use in mockery, sends icicles through my skin.
"You're an asshole." I state.
"That works too." He shrugs my accusation off, shooting anger through my veins. "But don't fool yourself into think he-" August motions to Neal, who is still watching Henry ride. "Isn't. Because, believe me, he's even worse than his Father."
"Believe you?" My eyes go into slits. "How can I believe anything you say at this point?"
August's body loses all its tension; the fight, the hope in him disappears. Part of me can't blame him, I know. I just broke our unspoken rule to never use Pinocchio's stereotypical traits against him – at least not in the way I just did.
"Well," he whispers. "It's clear you can't." He pauses, waiting for me to respond. When I don't, he adds. "Isn't it?"
Tears form behind my eyes as all trust breaks between us. I don't let them out, though; determine not to cry until I'm alone.
Another gust of wind blows through the barn, burning my face with coldness. Though, neither one of us wants to be here anymore, we keep each other frozen, stuck in this place waiting for someone to speak.
I look into his blue eyes, which are filled with hurt, and I'm surprised to find longing there. That, more than anything, fully breaks my heart. How can he, after everything that just passed between us, still want me?
The second August's realizes my discovery, however, his longing disappears. He replaces it with coldness.
My awareness of his longing, I think, is what propels him to finally speak. "We're done here, right?"
I take a step closer to him. "August-"
He looks at me one last time before walking out of the barn without turning back.
A single tear spills out before he disappears. I take a step in his direction, wondering if my body will let me go after him. When it doesn't, thick tears start running down my face. I fall back against a barn wall, hitting the back of my head pretty hard. I don't feel pain, though, and I start to wonder if this will be what my life will be like from now on.
Is feeling anything in my life even possible without Pinocchio in it?
A/N: Well, you know what they say - the best part of a break up is getting back together.