by Hart, Rye
“You used to love that ‘elitism’ in college,” he said.
“Well, when people graduate college, they grow up. Like me. I just had a wonderful interview with the gentleman who owns this gallery. I’m in the running to purchase it. What the hell are you doing with your life?”
“A gallery?” he asked, snickering. “You talk about growing up, and then you tell me you’re still chasing that silly dream?”
“Holy fuck, Daryl. Think about what you just said. If you really can’t see why I won’t take you back, then you’re a moron.. Another trait I don’t find attractive. Now move.”
“I don’t think so. I haven’t had a chance to say my peace.”
Daryl stepped in front of me, and I tried to get around him. With every step I took, he backed up. Every time I bobbed, he weaved. He wasn’t moving, and he wasn’t leaving me alone. I felt trapped on an open fucking sidewalk in the middle of the one town I had managed to preserve as safe.
“She told you to move.”
A tingling sensation crept up my neck as Brian’s voice hit my ears. I turned around and saw him holding Lanie as they stood behind me. What the hell were the two of them doing here?
“Brian?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”
“Lanie wanted to surprise you with lunch after your meeting,” he said. “There’s a pizza place a few doors down from the gallery.”
Daryl was snickering behind me and I rounded on him. “What the fuck is so funny Daryl?” I snapped.
He shook his head and looked at my with eyes full of pity. “You used to have so much promise when we first met Amanda. Now look at you. Stuck in this shit town, with your lumberjack and his kid? Wow. I’ve heard of rags to riches, but not the other way around.”
“You’d better watch yourself,” Brian said, his voice low and dangerous.
I turned to him. “Why don’t you and Lanie grab that pizza and head back home, I don’t have much of an appetite right now. I can handle this,” I told him. The last thing I wanted was for Lanie to see her uncle taking a swing at Daryl.
Brian’s eyes bored into mine, but I stood my ground and nodded to him. Finally, he turned on his heel and walked with Lanie toward the pizza parlor.
I turned back to Daryl, who was appraising me with a low whistle. “So you do still have some spunk left in you,” he said. “Looks like your lumberjack isn’t so tough after all.”
I laughed out loud at his comment. “Please. Brian is three times the man you are Daryl. Just because he chooses not to lay you out right here on the street in front of that little girl, doesn’t mean he isn’t tough.”
Daryl shook his head. “It really is sad, Amanda. I could have given you so much more than this.”
“You couldn’t, or wouldn’t, give me your support, and that’s the only thing I ever really wanted. Go back to New York Daryl. It’s over,” I said.
I pivoted and walked to my car, sliding behind the wheel and picking up my phone. I needed to talk to Sarah. She was always good at helping me sort things out. I started the car and headed back up the mountain.
CHAPTER 22
Brian
After the encounter on the sidewalk yesterday, Lanie and I had grabbed our pizza and brought it home. She had asked several questions about who the man was, and I told her he was an old friend of Amanda’s.
“Hmph, friends ‘pose to be nice. He not nice,” she had answered.
I had to laugh. Kids were way more intuitive than most people gave them credit for. I spent the rest of the day and that evening wanting to reach out to Amanda and see if she was ok. I could see her car in the drive in front of her cabin, but she made no attempt to come over or to contact me. I knew she needed her space.
I figured things would be tense with her after seeing her ex. He was a little maggot, and it was hard for me to figure out what the hell she’d ever seen in that asshole. He was cocky, arrogant, belittling, and full of himself. Maybe that shit got college girls off. Maybe he had money, and she was willing to overlook his idiotic attitude for nice dinners and shit. But Amanda didn’t strike me as that kind of girl, which made it even harder to figure out.
I was worried about her. She left angry yesterday, and I hadn’t seen her since. I wanted to ask her how the interview for the gallery showing went. To let her rant to me about how her ex was a fucking nutsack. I wanted to sit down with her and go over the plans we had already set in motion and make sure she was still okay with them.
But most of all, I didn’t want to lose her.
Not just because Lanie had become attached to her, but because I was falling for her. I craved her. Desired her. Wanted her in ways I’d never experienced, even with my ex-wife. I wanted to listen to her talk about her art and ask her about her future plans. I wanted to do anything I could to help her, especially since she was helping me. I wanted to hold her close to me at night and talk lowly to ourselves. I wanted to continue spending my days with her. She had dropped down onto this mountain on a chance inheritance and had somehow managed to wiggle her way into Lanie’s and my life.
And I no longer wanted to let her go.
Lanie and I spent the day together while I tried to get my mind off Amanda. I chased Lanie around the front yard and held her as we watched a movie. I read her favorite book to her, and we built lots of towers with her blocks. She loved driving her race car into the towers I would create. She would laugh until tears formed in her eyes whenever her car could knock down those blocks.
But as the hours ticked by, Amanda still didn’t show up.
I didn’t know what to do anymore. I wasn’t sure what to think. And who the fuck knew how she felt about me? Maybe she truly was just trying to help me out and didn’t share my deeper feelings. Maybe she was annoyed that I’d stepped into her conversation with Daryl. Maybe she resented that I’d insinuated that she couldn’t handle him herself.
When Lanie got up from her nap, I was restless. I couldn’t stay in the house any longer. I couldn’t sit here at the window and wait for Amanda to come to me. So I got Lanie dressed, put her in my truck, and headed to the lake. It was way too cold to swim, but sitting by the water was relaxing. Lanie enjoyed running around the edge of the lake and playing in the flower fields nearby. The peacefulness of the surroundings helped to clear my mind.
Amanda and I hadn’t discussed our feelings toward one another. I knew she wanted me sexually. That much was obvious every time I was around her. But emotionally? I didn’t know. It wasn’t a topic I’d ever thought to bring up, but now that I had come to understand my own emotional state, having that conversation was all I could think about.
“Uncle Bwian! Look!”
Lanie came running up to me and stumbled into my lap. She was holding what was possibly the only flower in that entire fucking field. The look of pride on her face was evident as she held it up to me, showcasing her moment of the day.
“It’s alive, see?” Lanie asked.
“I see that,” I said. “Is that the only flower?”
“Uh huh,” she said breathlessly.
“Did you pluck it to put in your hair?” I asked.
“Uh huh,” she said, smiling. “Help?”
I sat her on my lap and began braiding her wispy hair like Tanya had once shown me. I didn’t have a hair tie to fasten the braid, but I was able to get it tight enough to stick the flower at the crown of her head. She pranced around like she was the princess of her castle, running to the edge of the water to look at her reflection.
I got up and chased after her, holding her hand so she wouldn’t tumble in.
“I’m so pretty,” Lanie said.
“Yes, you are,” I said.
“ I need more flowers.”
“Well, when summer rolls around there will be plenty of flowers.”
“And bugs,” she said, grinning.
“And bugs,” I said with a smirk.
Lanie lifted her arms for me to pick her up, wanting me to throw her high in the sky. I backed away from th
e shoreline of the lake and tossed her up, listening to her giggles fall from her dainty little lips. My heart soared with love for this little girl as she laughed so hard she squealed. I couldn’t imagine my life without her. Now that she had become a part of it, I couldn’t see anything else there but her.
Just like with Amanda.
“You ready for some dinner?” I asked.
“Pizza!” Lanie said.
“We had pizza yesterday for lunch,” I said, chuckling. “How about spaghetti?”
“Amana coming?” she asked.
I hugged Lanie close before I pressed a kiss to the side of her head.
“We’ll make some for her just in case. But I think Amanda’s busy tonight,” I said.
Lanie and I headed back home, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.
CHAPTER 23
Amanda
“Why the fuck is this asshole even in town, Sarah?” I asked. “I mean, what the hell did he think I was going to do!?”
“Go home with him, I guess.”
“And what the fuck did I ever do in the past two months to give him that impression?” I asked.
“It’s Daryl, Amanda. He doesn’t need an impression. He gets an idea and thinks if he goes hard enough for it, his charm will do the rest.”
“Charm? He stood right on that fucking sidewalk and called my art a ‘silly little hobby’ or whatever the fuck he said.”
“Which is why he’s an asshole, and you broke up with him,” she said.
“But why the hell is he in town? How the hell did he even know I was here?” I asked.
“I think that might partially be my fault,” she said.
I stopped as the other end of the line went quiet.
“What did you do?” I asked.
“It wasn’t intentional. I swear. When you weren’t responding to his text messages and shit when you left, he came to my work, asking me a bunch of questions about where you were. I might have let slip that you were flying here to get away from him.”
I sighed as I fell back onto the couch.
“I swear to hell, I didn’t think he’d follow you. I was just trying to make a point about the lengths you were going to in order to get away from him. Remember how insistent he was to talk with you those first couple of days after you broke up with him?”
“How could I forget? I almost changed my damn phone number,” I said.
“And it just sort of got blurted out.”
“I’m not angry with you,” I said. “I’m angry with him. Can I get a restraining order?”
“If he hits you or something. But you won’t need one once that happens because I’ll kill him,” she said.
I laughed. “I think you’d need to get in line.”
“So, what happened when you met him on the sidewalk?” she asked.
“He was his usual asshole self and, of course, Brian pops up out of nowhere.”
“Ah, the hero to the rescue.”
“But I don’t need rescuing, Sarah,” I whined. I knew how ridiculous it sounded, but still, I was annoyed. “Sure, yeah, it was hot when he stood up for me in the restaurant. But popping up and basically threatening the guy in the middle of the damn street with Lanie in his arms, is a little much. I can handle my damn self.”
Sarah giggled on the other end of the line. “I know you can, Amanda, but I really think you’re overreacting. He wanted to make sure you were ok. Is that so bad? He wanted to be your protector. What’s wrong with that? After having endured two years with Daryl’s dickless self, I would think you’d be happy to have a guy who wanted to take care of you.”
I rubbed my temple with my free hand and sighed. “I know, but what I if I’m afraid to let him take care of me? I think I’m starting to have real feelings for him Sarah, and that could get messy.”
“My advice? Talk to him. Tell him how you feel. If you guys are going to be fake married or whatever soon, then you need to keep communicating. It’s not going to look good for anyone if a newly-wedded couple is already fighting.”
“What the hell is my life?” I asked.
“Crazy. But it’s entertainment for me, so I don’t care. Just talk to him before you freak out and jump to conclusions. Dating someone like Daryl can make you think the worst about people. Hold off that judgment until you talk to him,” she said.
“I know, I know. You’re right,” I said. “Of course, I am. Now, go talk to him,” Sarah said. “And let me know how it goes.”
I hung up the phone and headed over to Brian’s cabin, but when I knocked on the door, no one answered. I thought about waiting on his porch for him and Lanie to come back from wherever they were, but the temperatures were plummeting quickly, and I didn’t have the proper clothes on. So, I headed back to my cabin and decided to wait there.
I had been severely limiting my time in this cabin. I still hadn’t figured out how in the world I was going to fix it, and being inside of it brought back memories that made my heart ache. Brian and all of this drama was a nice distraction from the hurt I couldn't process. I couldn’t admit to myself that my grandmother was gone. That the only woman who had ever brought me warmth and solace and strength was dead.
Setting my stuff down in the corner, I looked up the old, haggard staircase. I kept making excuses because of the condition of the staircase to not go up there, but really, I was avoiding it because of the memories. My childhood bedroom was up there, and I had no idea what condition it was in. I felt tears rising in my eyes as a pull in my gut tugged me toward the staircase, and soon I was taking gentle steps up the stairs. With each move I made, it seemed the entire house groaned underneath me. I could hear my grandmother’s laughter echoing in my ears as I made it to the top, tears streaming down my face.
I turned to the left and stared at the door. The room I had called my own for years was behind that door. Would it look the same? Would the walls be bare? Would it still have furniture in it or would it be a blank canvas for me to decorate later on?
I swallowed hard and stared down the hallway, listening to the creaking floorboards call out to me underneath my feet. With every groan and pop, the memories came rushing back to me and I almost lost my nerve. The heaviness of my grandmother’s loss, cloaked me like a shroud.
I opened the door and crinkled my nose at the musty scent. Dust was flying around everywhere, causing me to sneeze. I made my way over to a window and threw it open, watching as the dust and grime were visibly sucked out into the nighttime sky.
But when I turned and faced my bed, I saw a note.
Walking toward the edge of the bed, I picked it up gently in my fingers. My name was scribbled across the front in handwriting I recognized. Tears fell onto the envelope as I set the note down, taking in the contents on the bed.
My grandmother must’ve laid this stuff out for me before she had gone into the nursing home.
My favorite stuffed doll was there, with red string for hair and freckles on her cheeks. There was a jewelry box with all of my grandmother’s jewelry and a china set that looked like it would shatter if I chanced to touch it. There was a vase lying on its side, and within it was something silken that was wrapped up into a tight tube-like shape.
My grandmother had taken great care to set it out for me, but I wasn’t ready to go through it just yet.
I left the unopened note on the bed before I shut the window. I made my way downstairs, careful to avoid the gaping hole where I’d fallen through. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see through my tears or feel anything but the slamming of my heart within my chest. I stumbled out onto my porch and fell to my knees, sobbing into my hands as the cold night air enveloped my body.
I was crying so hard I didn’t even hear Brian’s truck pull up beside my cabin.
“Come here,” he said. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“She’s dead,” I said, sobbing. “She’s really really gone.”
“I know baby,” Brian said. “I’m so sorry, Amanda.”
; “You don’t get it,” I said. “She raised me.”
“I understand the pain you’re going through,” he said.
“No!” I exclaimed as I ripped myself from him. “No, you don’t.”
He stared down at me with his piercing gaze as I wrapped my arms around my body.
“Where’s Lanie?” I asked.
“In the truck,” he said.
“Good. Because we need to talk.”
“Amanda. Why don’t you come with us to the cabin? I can lay Lanie down to sleep, then we can talk on my couch,” he said.
“I don’t know. I only feel like crying.”
“Amanda,” he said.
I fluttered my watery gaze up to him as he sighed heavily.
“Just come back with us,” Brian said.
I grabbed my things and hopped silently into his truck. Lanie was already asleep in her car seat, which made putting her to bed easy for Brian. I sat on his couch, staring at the empty fireplace.
I must’ve zoned out because when I came to, Brian was next to me and there was a roaring fire warming my body.
“My mother was a drug addict and an alcoholic,” I said.
I felt Brian reach over and wrap my hand up within his.
“She wasn’t always that way, but when she caught my father cheating on her with her best friend, she fell into using to cope. She’d drop me off with my grandmother on the weekends so she could go party, but soon she couldn’t hold a job. We were bouncing around town, living with her bullshit friends and sleeping on couches. I called my grandmother one night when things got too rowdy, and she came and got me. I stayed with my grandmother more than I did my own mother, and soon my grandmother filed for custody of me.”
I felt Brian grip my hand tightly as tears rose to my eyes again.
“I watched how taxing it was for my grandmother to fight my mother for custody. How she had to fight her own daughter. All the proof she had to bring to the table and how much money she had to shell out for a private investigator. It beat her down, emotionally and mentally. These types of fights, they bring out the worst in people. My mother tried to paint my grandmother as an old, decrepit, useless woman who didn’t have the funds or the energy to keep up with a child. My grandmother was just trying to prove to the court that I was financially dependent on her and not my mother. It was hell, Brian. And it’s a hell I’m not willing to let Lanie live.”
