September Tango Read Free

eleven o'clock news on. She turned the TV off in disgust. She took her trash to the kitchen and threw it away. She moved the yellowed lace curtain from the window to see if Daddy was home yet. He wasn't, of course. She left the porch light on, just in case and walked down the wood paneled hallway to her childhood bedroom. She still had the old twin bed with a canopy she got when she was five. The canopy was worn clean through by this point. It was dusty and tattered, the pale pink long faded to white. She had no money to replace it, so it stayed. Her room was the epitome of Major, Alabama. Worn out and tired. She pulled the cream colored sheets back on her bed and grabbed some thin cotton pajamas out of her baby pink dresser. She went across the hall to the bathroom, the robin's egg blue making her smile.
    They'd used the same paint on the old swing. She could still remember Mama painting, drips all over the floor. They'd just replaced the laminate on the floor to cover her mistakes. She'd been so damn happy when the place was finished. It was her sanctuary, the old claw foot tub with the new shower head, the blue and green shower curtain that went all the way around and the new lace curtains at the window.
    Zoe smiled sadly as she washed her face and brushed her teeth. She drug her old bristle brush through her long raven hair before braiding it. She slipped on her thin cotton pajamas and flicked off the bathroom light before crossing the hall back to her bedroom. She turned her oscillating fan on and slipped between the cool sheets. She pulled her old quilt over her shoulders, fingers stroking the delicate needlework. Mama had made it for her when she was a baby.
    She sighed as she tried to get comfortable, but she tossed and turned; eager to see Amy tomorrow. Her heart ached as she realized that she and Derek were finally over. For good. The finality of it all, another mark against her, proving yet again she was nothing but a wash up made her cry. A stifled sob escaped her mouth. As she rolled to her stomach and tears leaked between her dark lashes, she finally slept.
Chapter Two – Calvin (Friday)
     
    He couldn't even begin to explain how good it felt to be back on American soil. After having sat through fourteen hours of a low battery on his iPod, a window acting as an in-flight movie and a sleeping somebody who didn't know the meaning of personal space, a second or two to stretch his legs was just what the doctor ordered. As he began walking through the hallway to the terminal, he couldn't help but crack a smile at the “Welcome to Alabama” sign displayed on the wall like a bright ray of sunshine in the midst of a summer storm. With a pack on his back and dog-tags chiming with every step, he rushed to the baggage claim to wait with everyone else for his bag. He was only home for fifteen days so he packed light, but it was still enough so that it couldn't fit in the overhead compartment or under the seat. An older white gentleman was staring in his direction and he squirmed uncomfortably before glancing his way and smiling.
    “ Back home, are you?” He said in a gruff, but friendly voice, his face cracking into a smile.
    “ Just for a while,” the young man responded.
    “ Well, welcome back, and thank you for serving.” He said and approached him with his hand outstretched for a shake.
    “ Thank you for your support,” he replied, shaking his hand. The older gentleman let go and returned to where he was standing. The soldier shook his head at how much he hated being told that. It was kind of like listening to the same song on repeat for days at a time while someone is smashing your head with a sledgehammer. It's not that he didn't appreciate their support, or thank yous, he just really didn't feel like he deserved it. He didn't feel like a hero.
    Finally, he noticed the only olive green duffel bag on the trolley with a white tag and his name, Calvin Hall, written in black Sharpie. Calvin picked it up, turned