by D. R. Graham
“I lost a friend over it. That’s bad. I should have just minded my own business and let her find out for herself.”
“No. That’s what friends are for. You did the right thing. It’s not your fault she doesn’t know what a real friend is.”
After a long silence, she swallowed a big gulp of whiskey and said, “I stole something once.”
I pointed at her, impressed. “Now we’re talking. What did you steal?”
“There was this group of really popular girls at my school. They asked me to hang out with them, but they said I had to steal a pair of diamond earrings to be initiated. I asked the sales lady at a department store to see a pair and when the other girls distracted her, I switched the earrings for some cheap cubic zirconia ones that we got at a drugstore. How’s that?”
“It’s pretty respectable deviance.”
“Except I went back to the store an hour later and switched them back. Then I confessed everything to my parents and I never hung out with those girls again.”
I shook my head in mock disappointment and laughed. “You’re horrible at being bad.”
“What’s on the list of bad things you’ve done?”
“Oh, darling, that list is so long. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“Tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done.”
My smile disappeared as I thought about it. I wanted to be honest with her, so I shot back more liquor to get the nerve. “Thanks to Rochelle you already know a pretty good sample of the bad things I’ve done. You probably don’t know that I was arrested for stealing a truck.”
She shook her head and took another sip from her glass. “That’s the worst thing you ever did?”
“No. I haven’t told anybody the worst thing I ever did.”
Her eyes darted to glance at me before she stared down at her drink. “You can tell me if you want.”
I tilted my head back and drank as much as I could before it made me cough. I could feel her watching me as I ran my hand through my hair. “The day my dad died I was hanging out with some girl I didn’t even know in her camper. I lost track of time and when I heard them announce on the loud speaker that the bulls were coming up, I got dressed and ran over to the arena. I was too late though. They’d already pulled the chute gate for my dad.” I exhaled and finished what was left in the glass.
“I don’t understand. How is that the worst thing you ever did?”
“I was supposed to slap his back three times for good luck and I wasn’t there.”
She didn’t say anything and I didn’t want to know what her expression meant, so I stood and cleared the dessert dishes. It was dark in the kitchen, but I didn’t bother to turn the light on. After I stacked the dishes in the sink, I sat on a chair and leaned my elbows on my knees. A few minutes later, Shae-Lynn came in and rested the crutches against the table. I could see her feet right in front of me. “It wasn’t your fault.”
I looked up at her.
“It wasn’t your fault.” She stared at me for a long time as if she was waiting for me to show some sort of emotion. When I didn’t, she moved to sit on my knee and wrapped her arms around me for a hug. She whispered in my ear, “It wasn’t your fault, Billy.”
“He was superstitious for a reason.”
“Could anyone slap his back for good luck or did it have to be you?”
“Anybody could have done it, but it was supposed to be me that day.”
“Hand me your phone.”
I reached around to my pocket and gave it to her.
“What’s the password?”
“Rank.”
She smiled and typed it in to unlock the screen. I watched as she searched the web. “Here. Watch this.” She held the screen up and pressed play.
As soon as I saw what it was, I said, “No. I don’t want to see that ever again.”
“Just the beginning.”
“No.”
“Billy, do you trust me?”
I studied her expression, then closed my eyes for a while. “Yeah, I trust you.”
She pressed play and held the screen out for me to watch. The video clip began with a female news anchor announcing that a bull rider had been killed by injuries he sustained at the rodeo. The footage rolled and showed my dad loading into the chute. Ron Miller pulled his rope and slapped his back three times. My dad nodded, then the chute gate opened. Shae-Lynn pressed stop and hugged me again. “It wasn’t your fault, Billy. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. It was a freak accident.” I hugged her back and we sat that way for a long time. Her breathing was so slow and peaceful. Her hair smelled like strawberries and her skin smelled like coconut. “You can talk about it with me,” she whispered.
I nodded because I knew I could tell her anything, and closed my eyes because I knew I was going to. It scared the shit out of me to be so vulnerable in front of anyone.
“What did it feel like to be there and see it happen?”
“It was a helpless feeling, but that wasn’t the worst part.”
“Was it when the doctors told you that he passed?”
“No.” I reached up to rub my eyes. “Cole and I decided that it would be best not to tell our mom over the phone, so we drove back to the ranch to tell her in person. When we walked in the house together, the look on her face made it seem like she already knew something was wrong. She asked, ‘Where’s your daddy?’ Cole and I both stood there staring at her, speechless. She studied the expressions on our faces then she asked again, ‘Where is he?’ Cole said, ‘He was in a wreck, Ma.’ She looked out the window at the truck and asked, ‘Does he need help getting out of the truck or something?’ Eventually I said, ‘He was in a bad wreck.’ She shook her head as if she was trying to make it not true. She asked which hospital he was in and she fumbled around to get her purse and coat. I said, ‘He’s not in the hospital.’ She screamed, ‘Where is he?’ It took a long time to work up the courage, but eventually I said, ‘He’s dead.’ She collapsed to the floor — not like someone who fainted and puddled down. She blew back and crashed against the table as if I’d shot her in the chest with a shotgun. Cole rushed over to help her and she wailed on him. She punched and scratched him, screaming that we were liars and that Dad wasn’t dead. Cole didn’t even try to stop her. He just let her beat on him until she had no fight left in her. When she started crying, he hugged her. She looked over his shoulder at me.”
I squeezed my eyes tightly to try to erase the image of my mom’s expression. Shae-Lynn placed her hand on mine. “What was the worst part?” she asked with the same gentle and patient tone she used on the kids at the daycare.
“My mom was disappointed in me for letting it happen. That was the worst part.”
Shae-Lynn hugged me, and the warmth of her slow breath felt good on my neck.
“I’m trying to be a better person now. I swear.”
“I don’t blame you. Your mom doesn’t blame you. Even if she does, she shouldn’t. It couldn’t have been prevented.”
“If he wasn’t a bull rider it could have been prevented.”
“His profession didn’t have anything to do with it. He could have died in a tractor accident or an oilrig fire. When it’s your time, it’s your time.”
“Do you honestly believe that?”
“Yes. That’s why we need to appreciate the moments we have. No regrets about the past. No worries about the future.” Her hand slid over my chest and up to my neck. Her fingers were so soft it felt as if she was touching me with silk. “Ow. Shit.” She abruptly arched her back and dug her fingers into my shoulder. “Ouch.”
I repositioned my arms to support her. “What’s wrong?”
“Ow. My back’s in spasm. Ouch. Jesus.”
I scooped her up.
“Sorry,” she said as I carried her into the living room.
“Don’t be sorry.”
She groaned. “But we were having a moment and I ruined it.”
“It wasn’t ruined. Do you have pain killers or someth
ing?”
“No, I stopped taking them so I wouldn’t get hooked.”
I laughed because she was such a good girl. “Grab the whiskey.”
I bent over the coffee table. She reached her arm out and picked up the bottle.
“Which one is your room?”
“Uh, having a moment wasn’t code for anything.”
“I know. I was going to give you a massage. I won’t if you don’t want me to.”
She paused for a second to consider it. “Last door on the left.”
I carried her down the hall and kicked the door to swing it open. She squeaked in pain when I eased her down on the bed. “Do you have massage oil or lotion?”
“There’s a tube on top of the dresser.”
I reached over to get it and tossed it on the bedspread. “Raise your arms up.” I lifted the bottom hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She was wearing a strapless pink satin bra underneath. She looked a bit self-conscious when she noticed that I was checking her out. When I smiled, her cheeks blushed. “Unbutton your fly.”
She frowned and looked at me suspiciously. “I realize that your other first dates all end the same way, but this one is not going to.”
“I’m not trying to get in your pants. If you want a proper massage, I’ll need to work on your legs too.”
“How about you just do your best with my jeans on?”
“I can’t believe you don’t trust me. The quality of this massage is going to be compromised.”
“I’ll take that into consideration when I evaluate it.”
I smiled and tickled her ribs. “Roll over.”
She took a swig of whiskey straight from the bottle, then rolled onto her stomach. I knelt on the bed and straddled one knee on either side of her hips. The massage lotion was cold, so I warmed it between my palms before sliding my hands across her back. The spasm felt like a tight ball of iron cables. She groaned and buried her face in her pillow.
“Sorry.”
“Do you even know what you’re doing?” she mumbled into the pillow.
“Not really, but as long as you don’t have a serious back injury you probably won’t end up paralyzed.”
Her body shook as she laughed at my stupid joke.
“Stop moving. How am I supposed to work my magic if you keep bouncing around?”
She laughed some more, then said, “I just thought of something bad to put on my naughty list.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“I’m letting a cowboy with an awful reputation get me drunk and put his hands all over me.”
I smiled, but didn’t agree. “That’s his bad, not yours.” I moved my hands up her back and dug my thumbs into her shoulders for a while. She relaxed and I kneaded my way back down to where the spasm was. She groaned again, so I lightened the pressure. Eventually, the knot worked itself out, but I kept massaging her. “You threw that competition so Tawnie would win and I would have to buy Stella. That was bad.”
“Mmm. Who says I did that?”
“Did you?”
“Maybe. Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I kind of like that you were jealous.”
She lifted her head and glanced at me. “Who says I was jealous?”
“Why else would you be mad enough to do that?”
She smiled and buried her face back in the pillow. “Why did you steal a truck?”
“Technically I borrowed it without permission.”
“That’s still stealing.”
“Yeah. That’s how the cops felt about it too.” I moved my hands over her jeans and massaged the back of her legs. “Cole was on his last strike with my dad and he was going to get sent to reform school if he screwed up one more time. I borrowed the truck one night after a party to make sure we got home before curfew.”
“Aw, that’s sweet. You broke the law to make sure your brother didn’t get shipped off.”
“My dad didn’t think it was sweet. He sent me to the reform school instead, but I got myself kicked out after six months and got to come home.”
“I don’t even want to know what you had to do to get kicked out of a reform school.”
“No, you probably don’t want to know that.”
She made a quiet moan, then asked, “Where did you learn how to massage like that?”
“I used to hang out with Amy, the massage therapist who tours on the circuit sometimes.”
“Oh, my God. Are there any girls at the rodeo you haven’t slept with?”
“There are a few. I try to avoid the girls my brother has already slept with, although we’ve had a few miscommunications in that department. I definitely haven’t slept with your sister.” I slapped her ass. “Roll over.”
She rolled over and grabbed the whiskey bottle off the nightstand. I massaged her thigh as she took a sip. “Do you want to sleep with my sister?” She handed me the whiskey.
I took a swig and gave it back to her. “That’s kind of a trick question because of course I want to sleep with her, but I wouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Well, for one reason, she has a boyfriend.”
“And?”
“I don’t think her sister would appreciate it.”
She smiled and watched as I bent her knee to massage her hamstring.
“Plus, Cole already slept with her.”
She made a funny gasping sound and opened her eyes and mouth in complete shock. “No. He. Did. Not.”
I mimicked her stunned expression and said, “Yes. He. Did. Too.”
“I don’t believe you. She would have told me.”
I shrugged, not sure why Lee-Anne hadn’t told her. “I think they actually liked each other, but it didn’t work out because of the long distance thing.”
“Oh.” She watched my hand as I ran my thumbs along her muscles.
“Did you take all those photographs?” I pointed at the framed black and white pictures hung on her wall. They were all powerful close up portraits — a little girl with a tear running down her cheek, an old woman who looked as if she was praying, a man who looked as if he had just finished an Iron Man, and a bull rider who looked as if he had just nodded for them to open the chute gate. I frowned and got off the bed to look at it more closely. “Is that me?”
“Yeah, it’s from a couple years back. Do you like it?”
I stared at it for a while, then turned to look at her. “Yeah, I like it a lot.”
She drank another sip before handing me the bottle. “You were happier when you were riding.”
I glanced at the photo again before I wandered around to look at the other things in her room. The bunny she’d won at the midway was propped on the bookshelf looking dopey. I picked up one of her pink good luck armbands off the dresser. She wore one on her left arm when she competed and had ever since she was a kid. Instead of acknowledging that she was right about me being happier back then, I said, “I guess this didn’t really work on your last run.”
“Yes it did.”
“How do you figure that? You were nearly paralyzed.”
“A thousand pound horse landed on me and I’m going to be fine. I call that lucky.”
“It would be luckier if you didn’t fall in the first place.”
“Lucky charms can’t prevent bad things from happening. They keep you as safe as possible until it’s your time to go.” She held her hand out so I would pass the armband to her. “Come here.” She slid the armband over my wrist and pushed it up to just below my elbow. “This one is yours now — for the next time you ride.”
“I’m not going to ride again.”
“If you do, it will keep you safe. I promise.”
I smiled because I believed her. “Thanks.” I sat behind her on the bed and massaged her shoulders.
“How long is this massage going to last?”
“Sixty minutes, and I charge by the minute.”
“How much do you charge?”
“It’s negotiable and I might be persuaded to take
a trade.”
“Is that code for something?”
I laughed. “Maybe.”
She drank some more and exhaled like someone who was nervous.
I pointed at a picture of her on a pony. “You were cute back then.”
“I’m not cute anymore?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
She looked down and watched as my hands moved along her arms. “That’s not very nice of you to say.”
“You’re not cute anymore. You’re like snow.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. You’re definitely drunk.”
I leaned over her shoulder so my lips were nearly touching her ear. “You know that period of time after it has just stopped snowing, but nobody has gone out yet? You kind of want to run out on the fresh snow because it is so pure, but you don’t want to run out on it because you know that if you do, your own footsteps will ruin how perfect it is.”
“Yeah.”
I slid my palm along her ribs. “You’re so beautiful, like that snow.”
Her eyelids blinked rapidly and for a long time it seemed as if she was holding her breath. I leaned in to press my chest against her back and tilted my head down to kiss her shoulder. She inhaled and whispered, “Thank you.”
She placed her hands over mine as I moved them over her abs. My fingertips caressed the soft curve of her cleavage as I continued over the satiny surface of her bra. I kissed her neck. She turned and sat up on her knees to face me. I clutched my fist around silky chunks of her hair and pulled her head toward me. She gasped a little and her lips parted as she waited for mine to touch them. My breathing sounded as if I’d just gone a round. Every single cell of my body wanted to throw her down and make love to her. I wanted it so badly that my arms started to shake from the strain of resisting her. An anxious feeling crept in and filled my body as I realized I had no idea what to do next. I knew what I would do if she were any other girl, but she wasn’t. I didn’t have a clue how to be the guy she wanted me to be, the guy she deserved. Her bottom lip quivered and her eyes widened like a startled deer as she waited for me to do something. The drunk feeling immediately left my body and was replaced with panic.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“I want to kiss you so bad it hurts.”
