Brown, Sandra-Friction

Choking up entirely, she paused to swallow several times, taking hard gulps of air. “But the man in
the mask was horrifying, and it was awful to see Chet die, and—” She covered her face with her
hands and began to sob.
“Aw shit,” Crawford muttered. He slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and left her to
wallow in several moments of heavy crying. Finally, he said, “Hey. Don’t do that.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Yeah, you can.”
“No I can’t. I was so afraid. Not just for me, but for…for…”
“Come on now, stop crying.”
“—for all of us. He was so—”
“Scary. I know. I was scared, too.”
“No, you weren’t.”
“Hell I wasn’t.”
She continued to cry into her hands.
“Try not to think about it anymore, okay?”
She nodded but she didn’t stop weeping.
Removing his hands from his pockets, he pulled a paper napkin from the holder on the dining table.
“Here. Wipe your eyes.” She didn’t see the napkin he extended her, so he walked over and gently
nudged her arm. “Use this.”
Blindly she groped for the napkin with one hand, then held it against her eyes. But her crying didn’t
abate; in fact, the wracking sobs increased.
Uncomfortable with the situation, Crawford shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Come
on now. This isn’t helping anything. Get it together.”
“I’m trying. I can’t.”
“Everything’s okay.” He moved a step closer and lightly placed his hands on her shoulders. Patting
them, he said, “It’s all right.”
“I know, but—”
“You’re safe. We’re all safe. Hear me? Safe.”
His soothing words must have reached her because a few seconds later, her neck went boneless,
and her head dropped forward. She hiccupped into the damp napkin, used it to blot her eyes and wipe
her nose, then lowered her hands from her face. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem. Better now?”
She nodded and when she did, her forehead brushed against his chest and then rested there. His
hands stilled on her shoulders, then moved to encircle her neck, his fingertips gently kneading the
back of it. She set her hands at his waist and leaned into him. A deep inhale caused her whole body to
shudder.
“Shh.” He hugged her closer and sent his fingers up into her hair until he was cupping the back of
her head in his hand. His other slid down her back and began stroking her spine. On one downward
trip, it slid past the small of her back and settled on the curve of her hip. And stayed there.
Suddenly neither of them was breathing.
After what seemed an endless time of absolute stillness, she tilted her head up.
Crawford looked down into her brimming green eyes and thought, Oh fuck.