I whirled around to see a stunned Chelsea standing in the center of the sliding doors, watching me with a dull horror on her face. Her beautiful bright eyes were wide, dirty blonde hair blowing with the quiet night breeze, her gentle curves still and unmoving. The pink of her lips was gone as they spread wide, but not in a smile.
“Chels, I-“ she raised a hand to stop me. Without a word she went back to the car, opened the door and sat there, waiting for me to start it and move.
Not knowing what else to do, I flicked the flashlight back on and found my things on the register belt. I grabbed them and made my way back to the car, stopping momentarily at the trunk to place the cat food and my bag.
I opened the door and got in the car. The engine started as I turned on the headlights to full. The parking lot was still as empty as it would have been on Christmas day. The clouds above parted slightly to let some moonlight through, although it was waxing crescent so the light could have been much better. I kicked the car into gear and drove onto the highway.
“Chels,” I began. “I’m sorry that I kept it from you.”
“Okay.”
Ugh. I hate the one word answers of a pissed off woman, though I probably deserved it. “Please don’t-“
“Please don’t what?” she practically yelled. “Keep things from you? Oh because that’s a common theme with us, right?” She was staring straight ahead, eyes focused on the road.
I sighed a worried sigh, “I meant to tell you, it just never seemed like a good time.”
“Good time? When the fuck is a good time?” The Italian in her threw her hands in the air. “We’re in a constant war with mindless flesh sucking fucks. So please tell me when is there ever a good god damn time to tell me that my parents are dead?”
I felt as if I got punched in the stomach with her words. “I just couldn’t have you losing hope. You were sick for a while then got bit by the CRU then the food situation then me running to the deli. I just didn’t want you to stop fighting. If you knew that you lost your parents, what else would there be for you to keep fighting for? I know it’s a shitty argument, but-“
“You, you are a damn moron,” she said, finally looking at me. Her eyes were slightly red but without tears. Chelsea was tough, tougher than I had ever given her credit for, and my ass was getting kicked for it. “You senseless shit,” her eyebrows were twitching, she was holding back.
I pulled the car over to the side of the highway, though in retrospect, I probably could have just stopped. It’s not like anything was coming, “Chels, I really am sorry for not telling you.”
“Did you really think that I would quit on you?” Her upper lip was twitching, but I could see an angry smile touching through. “Did you really think that I would abandon you?”
I took my arms and wrapped them around Chelsea, and she returned the gesture. Her face was buried in my chest, slight convulsions coming from her back. I could smell the sweat of her hair mixed with a flowery shampoo. “I know we’ve only been together for a little while, but I love you, Chelsea.”
“I love you, you twit,” she said into my shirt.
I didn’t cry. I swear it. I didn’t cry, seriously. Stop thinking that. I mean it. I’m a tough man. Okay fine. Maybe. Just a little. Or not. Probably not. Maybe.
Chapter 12
We kept driving. I took the long route home, trying to preserve the moment of silent emotion that Chelsea and I were sharing. There was a good vibe between us, a connection that I had not felt any time before the supermarket, but a feeling that was definitely there afterwards.
I had just passed by a broken traffic light, not the kind of broken like you see in the movies, with the pole bent or broken sideways lying across the street. Don’t be stupid. Contaminated or any fleshy creature really cannot push over a traffic light. Metal is hard.
“You want to ask anything about it?” I asked, breaking the silence. “About your parents I mean.”
She shrugged a little, “I don’t know what there is to ask. To be honest, I kind of gave up on ever seeing them again with the way that the world has become, and I always knew something was up. They never called me, you know, like how your mom did,” she looked down, playing with a string on her shirt. “I guess I kind of always figured they were gone for good. Not necessarily dead, but somewhere else. Your mother told you when she called, didn’t she.”
I nodded while looking ahead, “Yes. She told me that she saw them, but-“
“Okay, that’s okay,” she was still playing with the string. “I don’t want to know what happened to them per say. I really just want to remember them for being my kind and loving parents, the best parents a daughter could ask for. How they wound up doesn’t change how I feel about their life. It would only tarnish it.”
She knew where I was taking it of course. I think that she just did not want to hear it said, as if she put up a wall, blocking her vision to the ending of her beloved parents. It was such a shame that a terrible thing as the contamination affected them.
“Do you remember?” I began. “Do you remember when I first started flirting with you? And we watched the Titanic?”
“Where you cried at the end?” she said, a playful smile crossing her lips.
“I didn’t
