by Robbi McCoy
“Oh, right, the crawdad festival. The whole town’s getting ready for that.”
“Sure. It’s our big event. I hope you’ll come.”
“I might. What’d you bring me?”
Jackie presented her with a hinged wooden box, which she opened to reveal a Fairbairn-Sykes combat knife just like her grandfather’s, cradled in a purple velvet lining. The blade gleamed in the sunlight like it was brand new. Astonished, she looked up to see Jackie smiling triumphantly at her.
“Where did you get this?” Stef asked, lifting the knife from the box.
“eBay. I know it’s not the same as one that belonged to a relative.”
“No, it’s great. I can’t believe you did this.” Stef felt overwhelmed. She took a deep breath and set the knife back in the box. “Thank you. It’s wonderful.”
Jackie looked satisfied. Stef hated so much what she was about to say, and the gift made it that much harder.
“Did you get the name painted on?” Jackie asked, running to the rear of the boat to look.
Stef followed and the two of them stood admiring the blue lettering in its swirly script that spelled out the word Mudbug.
“It’s perfect!” Jackie declared. “Now it’s really yours, isn’t it?”
“Mine and in working condition.” Stef had a hard time looking Jackie in the eye as she said, “Jackie, I know we talked earlier about how I didn’t have to leave until the end of July.”
Jackie’s smile faded as she read Stef’s tone and face.
“But I’ve decided to go sooner, now that there’s nothing to prevent it.”
Jackie’s mouth fell open. “But what about the carpet and curtains and all that stuff you wanted to replace?”
“None of that’s going to stop me from cruising down the river. I can do those things anytime.”
“I don’t understand. Are you going to get a slip at the marina?”
Stef gazed into Jackie’s eyes, seeing all the pain that was about to erupt. “No, Jackie,” she answered gently. “There’s no point paying for a slip when I’m going to be living on the boat. I can just drop anchor anyplace out there. I’ll be moving around. That was always the plan.”
“I know that’s what you said before, but I thought maybe…”
Stef touched Jackie’s cheek, lightly stroking. “My plans haven’t changed.”
“But there’s no reason you can’t stay a little longer.”
Stef shook her head, struggling with her resolve. She pulled Jackie close and kissed her impulsively. Her lips were so eager and so exciting. She was afraid that if Jackie kept asking her to stay, she would.
Pulling back, Stef said, “Thank you for everything. You’re a very special person, and I’m so grateful to have known you.”
“You’re saying goodbye to me?” Jackie looked utterly shocked.
“I wish I could spend more time with you. I really do.”
“You can, Stef. There’s nothing stopping you. Just stick around for a while. We can spend every day and every night together and figure this out. See if we might have a future together.”
Stef shook her head. “We don’t have a future together. And the more time we spend together, the harder it will be on you when I go. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I obviously am.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t explain. I just have to go.”
Jackie looked helpless. “Let me go with you!” she blurted.
Stef shook her head, recognizing this as a move of desperation. “No. I need to be alone. Besides, that’s ridiculous.”
By her body language, Jackie seemed to reluctantly agree. “There must be some compromise,” she said quietly. “You could stop by on weekends or something.”
“If you get any more tangled up with me, I’d cause you nothing but grief. I know you don’t understand it, but you’re so much better off without me.”
Jackie looked confused and hurt. Any second she would start crying.
“Jackie, please just go and leave me alone. I’m really sorry.”
“Stef,” Jackie pleaded, her eyes moist, “I love you.”
Stef winced at the phrase. “How can you? You don’t even know me.”
“It’s true I don’t know much about you. But I know how I feel. I have to be with you.”
They stood facing each other for a few seconds without speaking. Stef didn’t know what to say. She had nothing to offer. No words of comfort.
“I guess,” Jackie said quietly, “you don’t feel that way about me.” She laughed with a tinge of bitterness. “If you did, you wouldn’t want to leave, obviously. If you felt even remotely like I do, you’d light a fire under this goddamned boat and say good riddance and you’d come home with me and never leave.” Jackie’s voice broke as she started to cry.
Stef put the box down on the deck and pulled Jackie into a tight embrace, stroking her hair. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could explain. I do care about you, Jackie, but I can’t live the life you imagine for us. I’ve been through some things I need to deal with…on my own. I can’t drag you into all that. I can’t drag any woman into that. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Maybe I could help you,” Jackie sobbed, her head tucked under Stef’s chin.
“You’re always wanting to help me.” Stef smiled. “But this time you can’t.”
“Will you come back…when you’ve worked it all out?”
“I don’t know.” Stef lifted Jackie’s chin so they were looking at one another. “We need to say goodbye now. Go home and forget about me.”
“I won’t forget about you. Ever.”
Jackie’s cheeks glistened with her tears. Stef wiped one away and kissed the spot where it had been. Then she kissed Jackie’s mouth one more time, holding onto the kiss with the thought that she had never felt so much tenderness toward anyone before. She needed to get away as soon as she could, before she allowed herself to stay and ended up destroying the sweet, optimistic nature that made Jackie so appealing.
When Jackie left, she was no longer crying. Stef hoped she had already begun replacing her sorrow with resentment or anger or some other negative emotion that would allow her to quickly get over this hurt. What Jackie couldn’t know was that Stef too would have a really hard time getting over it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Jackie sat on her couch with Tri-Tip in her lap, watching the evening news on TV, or trying to watch the news, but her mind kept wandering to Stef. It had been that way all day. She couldn’t focus on anything else. Even Niko had asked her what was wrong, thinking she was sick and should go home. Especially when his joke of the day failed to get more than an eye roll from her. “A duck, a giraffe and a penguin walk into a vet’s office and the vet says, ‘What is this? A joke?’”
When the doorbell rang, she picked up the cat and set him on the floor, then opened the door to a sight that made her stumble back in astonishment. On her porch stood a six foot tall figure in a bright red, plush costume that looked like a giant lobster, complete with antennae and huge pinchers waving menacingly like something out of an old B movie. As Jackie recovered herself, she noticed two human eyes looking out from holes in the lobster costume.
“Oh, hi, Gail,” she said without enthusiasm.
Gail came in and pulled off the head of the costume. “They sprang for a new costume this year. About time, huh? How do you like it?”
“Cool. But it looks like a lobster.”
“Once you get over a foot tall, what’s the difference, really? Besides, do you actually think there’s a crawdad costume to be had anywhere in the world?”
Jackie shrugged. “I guess not.”
“You don’t seem very chipper this evening.”
“Sorry. I’m sure you’ll be a big hit with all the kids.” Jackie fell back onto the couch.
Gail sat beside her, the red material of her costume bunching up around her. “I can see you’ve been crying. Your eyes are swollen. What’s wron
g?”
Jackie sighed. “Stef.”
“I figured.” Gail nodded knowingly. “Did you have a fight or something?”
“No. We said goodbye. She’s leaving Stillwater. For good, I guess.”
“Sorry to hear that. Spit the hook and got away, huh.” Gail patted her knee with a big red claw. “Is she gone, then?”
“Not yet. I tried to talk her into staying, but I guess I didn’t make as big an impression on her as I thought.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t give up. Just because she slipped the hook once doesn’t mean she can’t be hooked. Just put on a fresh piece of bait and try again.”
Jackie forced a smile. “I don’t think there’s any point. She doesn’t want me. I’m not going to beg her. Actually, I did beg her and it didn’t do any good.”
“Then it’s probably for the best.”
“I just don’t understand her. I never have. From the day we met, she’s been pushing me away. If I was a little more insecure, I’d think she just doesn’t like me. But I can see in her eyes she does.”
“Not to mention her mouth and hands and—”
“Uh-huh, all that stuff. So why is she so anxious to get away and be by herself?”
“Scared of commitments,” suggested Gail. “Or just plain antisocial.”
Jackie turned to face Gail, whose head looked oddly small sticking out of her giant lobster costume.
“She likes to be alone,” Gail said. “There are people like that. Not everybody’s so comfortable around people as you are. It’s obvious you want to bring her home, marry her, have her kids and be buried side by side in the same cemetery plot. You probably scared her off with that whole scene.”
“I never said a word about kids…or marriage.”
“You know what I mean. Domestic bliss. She wants no part of that. She’s a hermit.” Gail laid the back of her hand across her forehead dramatically. “I vant to be alone.”
Greta Garbo in a lobster outfit, a very peculiar image.
Jackie smiled weakly. “She seems very sure of what she wants. And she doesn’t want me.”
“I knew she was bad news from the beginning. Didn’t I say so the first time we laid eyes on her? Stay away from that one, I said. She’s bad news.”
“No, you didn’t!”
“Well, I should have. Women like that—beautiful, sexy, hot—” Gail took a deep breath. “They’ll always break your heart. They think they’re all that. She’s full of herself. She can’t see that you’re the best thing that ever came her way.”
Jackie knew Gail was just trying to make her feel better, but it wasn’t working.
Gail gave her a hug, then stood. “Plenty of fish in the sea, Jacks. You’ll be better off with one who feels lucky to have you. The one that jumps in your boat, now, that’s the one you want to take home.”
Jackie frowned. She wasn’t in the mood for Gail’s fishy metaphors.
“It’s a good thing you’ll be busy this weekend,” Gail said. “Take your mind off it. Pat played your whole set for me last night. It’s a good show. You know you’ll feel good once you’re out there strumming on your old banjo.” Gail put the lobster head back on. “I’ll see you out there tomorrow. I’ll be the one in red.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
The guy with the boat trailer was coming Sunday afternoon to move Mudbug to the marina. Stef spent most of Sunday morning packing and making sure everything was stowed securely. She worked steadily, trying to keep her mind off Jackie. By noon, she had the situation under control, so she decided to drop by the crawdad festival for a while and see what all the fuss was about. In the back of her mind, she also thought she might get to see Jackie one more time and found she couldn’t resist the possibility.
The festival was crowded, hot and loud. The town was drastically transformed from its usual well-tempered self into a raucous celebration. She made her way down a jam-packed Main Street, weaving through the crowd, looking at an occasional trinket for sale at the craft booths, heading vaguely for the steamy white tent at the end of the street. She passed dozens of people with red and white paper boxes piled with bright orange crustaceans and lemon wedges.
When at last she reached the crawdad tent, she got her own box of mudbugs, boiled with bay seasoning, Cajun spices and lemon. There were half a dozen of them, piled on top of each other, a tangled mass of hard-shelled legs, pinchers and antennae. There was something oddly thrilling about eating something that could easily stand in for an alien monster in a Godzilla movie. Blown up to scale, of course.
After eating, Stef followed the strains of bluegrass music to the park where a small stage was surrounded by a crowd of people sitting on the grass.
The band belted out something that sounded like a Highland reel. They were all smiling and bouncing on their feet. The one old lady, who Stef assumed was Jackie’s grandmother, wore a cotton blouse and ankle-length, mauve-colored skirt. She was the fiddler and was going at it with enthusiasm. Pat wore a white boater over her dark hair and a simple outfit of jeans and short-sleeved shirt. Rebecca wore denim cutoffs and a low-cut blouse, tucked in. She looked like Lil Abner’s Daisy Mae, which was no doubt the look she was going for: hillbilly bombshell. Stef let her gaze rest on Jackie in a cute embroidered vest worn open over a white short-sleeved shirt. She picked her banjo at a rapid tempo, one foot tapping out the beat on the wooden floorboards. She looked overheated, but also lovely with the tint of pink on her cheeks.
When the song ended, the crowd clapped. Stef joined in, standing far enough back that she didn’t think she’d be noticed. Jackie spoke breathlessly into the microphone. “Now we’re going to do a Zydeco number for all you mudbug-lovin’ river rats. This is called, ‘The One That Got Away.’”
Jackie looked in Stef’s direction, giving her the momentary feeling she’d been recognized, but a split second later she was looking at her instrument and picking out a tune, oblivious to Stef’s presence. It was another happy song, despite the title. Some of the people standing nearby stomped the grass in tune with the music.
Stef saw Officer Hartley in uniform on the sidewalk at the edge of the park. Stillwater Bay’s one cop. What was that like, Stef wondered, to be the only cop. Or the only vet? Where she came from, there were dozens of everything. Sometimes hundreds. Everything was more personal here. It was a little scary. But obviously the intimacy had a positive side. For those who were a part of it. Like Jackie.
Hartley noticed Stef and nodded a greeting across the lawn to her. She returned the gesture.
She listened to the band for a few minutes, trying to decide whether to make herself known to Jackie or not. They had already said goodbye, and it wasn’t fair to put Jackie in that position here, to rain on her parade. Today she was happy. Better to let her enjoy herself. Still, it was hard not to walk up there and be the recipient of that beatific smile and all the goodwill that backed it up. Very hard. It was hard not to walk into Jackie’s arms and stay there forever.
She headed out of the park and back into the throng of festival-goers, turning to look one more time at Jackie, the last time, she knew. The song concluded and Granny took a deep bow for her fiddle solo. Jackie slipped an arm around her grandmother’s shoulders, then pointed with her index finger at her sister, a signal to have her deliver a breakdown of her own. Stef stood still, transfixed by Jackie’s joyful face, committing this scene to memory. A happy woman surrounded by people she loves playing happy tunes. She smiled to herself, then turned and made her way through the crowd and into a side street, heading back to where she’d parked.
She’ll have a good life without me, Stef concluded. A wonderful, happy life. Stef had nothing to offer her. In some ways, she thought, she was worse than nothing. If she stayed, she’d end up sucking the life out of that sweet, happy woman with all her gloom and guilt. If she ever doubted that, all she had to do was remember what Erin had said to explain why she was leaving.
I know you’re hurting, Stef, and I feel for you. I really do. B
ut you’ve shut me out completely, and I don’t know what to do for you. I don’t know how to help you. Whenever I try, you get angry, like I’m invading your territory. I don’t want to live in the world of your grief. It’s too dark and too sad. I feel like I’m drowning here trying to keep you afloat, and all you’re doing is fighting me. This is apparently something you need and want to go through alone, so I’m going to let you do that. I need to get on with my own life.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
By one o’clock, Jackie called a break. The band was more than ready. She put down her banjo and stretched her arms over her head.
“I’m hungry,” she declared. “Maybe I’ll wander down the street and see if I can find something interesting.”
“Everybody be back here by two o’clock,” Pat instructed, sprawling in her chair. “If you see my honey out there, remind her to keep drinking water. I don’t want her to get dehydrated in that stupid costume.”
Jackie left the park in search of food, weaving her way through the crowd until she noticed a tall red plush head towering over everyone else. She made her way toward it, finding Crusty the Crawdad standing under the awning of the Sunflower Café with a large soda cup in one claw and an empty food carton in the other.
“Hi,” she said as Jackie approached.
“How are you doing?” Jackie peered through the face hole at Gail.
“Not bad. It’s very hot, so I’m spending my time in the shade whenever possible. How’s it going on your end?”
“Good. I’m on a lunch break.”
“You should try this crawdad jambalaya. It’s terrific.”
“You’re eating crawdads?”
“Sure. Isn’t everybody?”
“But you’re Crusty the Crawdad. That’s so cannibalistic.”
Gail laughed. “I didn’t even think of that.”
“I’m not looking for anything with crawdads in it. This huge cloud of dank fishiness has been hanging over the park all day. It’s getting to me. I may never eat a crawdad again as long as I live.”
