Without Condition by Sonora Taylor

Author:Sonora Taylor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sonora Taylor
Published: 2019-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Cara was back at Jackson’s by Friday night. She went straight to his place after finishing her deliveries for Keith, deliveries which had her out as far as Burlington and thus had her at his door after dark. Jackson didn’t mind. He’d ordered Chinese food before she arrived, and they were able to sit on his couch, eat, and watch TV with only each other. They would spend the weekend with only each other, and Cara looked forward to every minute.

Their minutes alone, though, appeared to be short-lived by Saturday morning. Both were awake, lying in bed and talking to one another, when they were interrupted by a loud knock.

“Who’s that?” Cara asked.

“I don’t know,” Jackson replied. He turned over and held Cara closer instead of getting out of bed to find out. “Probably a solicitor or some Mormons or something.”

Another knock. “Are solicitors usually that persistent?” Cara asked.

“The Mormons are, but only when you open the door.” Jackson smiled as he got out of bed. “I’ll see who it is and remind them it’s morning.”

“Well, almost morning,” Cara said as she looked at the clock on his bedside table. “It’s almost eleven.”

“That’s definitely morning on Saturday terms.” Jackson disappeared down the hall. Cara stared at the ceiling, and hoped that whoever it was would leave as quickly as they appeared.

Muffled voices broke through the silence. Cara thought she heard an exclamation from Jackson, but while she couldn’t hear what he said, she could hear that he was happy. She briefly panicked at the thought that his mother was here, but then common sense got the better of her. Even if Jackson kept his mother’s letters in the hopes of keeping a connection, he’d made it clear that he had no desire to see her — and that if she came to see him, he wouldn’t be thrilled.

As the moments became minutes, curiosity about who was there beat out Cara’s desire to stay out of sight. She rolled out of bed, pulled on one of Jackson’s shirts and a pair of his boxers, and walked out of the room.

Cara approached the living room slowly, and saw Jackson with his back turned. Past Jackson, she saw a tall woman standing in front of the kitchen table. She wore a faded black jacket, a maroon t-shirt with a rumpled collar, jean shorts that rolled and tore where they’d been cut off, and black-and-orange striped stockings with a hole in the knee. Her bobbed hair hung against her cheeks and was topped with uneven bangs. Everything that made her up seemed frayed on its own, yet came together neatly as herself.

When she turned her head and noticed Cara, she flashed a grin that was only broken by two crooked teeth in the top row. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked, winking at Jackson as she spoke.

Jackson turned, and Cara stepped back sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” Cara said, “I didn’t mean to —”

“No, don’t be,” Jackson said as he walked towards her. “I should’ve gotten you before.

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