The Realist

by Abbie Zanders

  Walking away from Ripper, hearing him whine for me, was hard, but it had to be done. I might have to spend the night in town and I doubted the only motel there – an economy-priced national franchise - was pet-friendly. I’d be back tomorrow, at the latest.

  It was easier walking away from my neighbor because unlike Ripper, I knew he would be just fine without me.

  Thankfully, it was only the bedroom that had taken any damage. Since that part had been added on to the original one-room cabin, the rest was fine. I made a mental checklist of the things I’d need today: some heavy-duty tarp. A couple of sheets of weather-treated T-11 siding. An air mattress and maybe a new pillow for me; a new doggie bed for Ripper.

  While I was there I would see about contracting someone about possibly building a newer, bigger addition while doing the necessary repairs.

  Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought that maybe I should have been more upset than I was. I’d had a few WTF moments this morning, even going so far as to wander around in my PJs for a couple of hours before Travis found me. I didn’t tell him that, though. He already looked worried enough as is.

  I guess I can’t really blame him. After my sudden case of word vomit on the lake yesterday, he probably thought I was a few bricks shy of a load anyway. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told him all that I had, but I was glad I did. It was cathartic, really. If nothing else, it reminded me that I – no one else – was responsible for my own life, and that expecting anything from anyone beyond the next few moments in time was a waste of time and effort.

  When Travis dropped us off last night, I knew things had changed. We’d crossed yet another line.

  So many lines. I was starting to see my life as a grid of lines, crisscrossing here and there. It made me think of that computer game I used to play sometimes – Minesweeper. Life was like that. Broken up into little squares, one small space marking where you were at any given time. All around were hints of the bombs that lie in wait if you ventured too far from your square in the wrong direction.

  Clearly, I hadn’t been paying enough attention, because I think I had stepped on one.

  I hadn’t died, though, like I would have in the game. That was the good news. Lifesweeper, as I named my analogy, wasn’t an instant game-over if you messed up. You might lose a few pieces in the blast, but you just turned around and went back the way you came – the way you knew was safe – or took a chance with a different direction.

  I didn’t completely discount the idea of a different direction, but for right now, I was choosing to go back to where I knew it was safe, at least until I built up my strength again. That meant shoring up the weak spots and depending only on myself.

  The trip down the mountain wasn’t too bad. There were some downed trees and lots of detritus, but nothing my four-wheel drive couldn’t handle. I made it into New Berlin in only slightly more time than it would have taken on a regular day.

  Things were even better in town. If I hadn’t experienced the storm’s destructive force first-hand, I wouldn’t have even known anything had happened. That worked for me because it meant the home improvement store had plenty of everything I needed. It also meant that I was able to hire some guys to come out and start working right away.

  I’d learned the value of cold, hard cash early on. Banks were fine for some people, but I guess some of Eli’s paranoia had rubbed off on me. Besides, if I had any kind of accounts, Mark might have been able to take half of everything. Even though we hadn’t technically been married, some states recognized “common law marriage” if the couple was together long enough. I never bothered to find out what the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania had to say on that subject.

  Everything was settled by dinner time, but I decided to spend the night in New Berlin anyway. I hit a few stores and picked up some new jeans, tops, and underwear, since I had yet to determine what, if anything, was salvageable from my closet. There were tons of back-to-school sales in progress, so I made out fairly well.

  Feeling pretty good about that, I went to T.G.I.Friday’s and splurged on a fancy-looking drink with a high froufrou factor before my high calorie and sodium-laden meal, followed by a decadent dessert afterward. It was a special treat, because if I’d hesitated to go down into the cellar just a few minutes longer the night before, it would have been my stuffing skewered by the massive oak rather than my mattress’s.

  The sky was incredibly beautiful when I emerged from the restaurant, shades of oranges and reds and indigos. The marquee of the Cineplex down the street winked on and on a whim, I bought myself a ticket. I had never heard of the movie before – but the poster caught my eye. For the next two hours, I sat enthralled in a comfortable, cushy seat, munching absently on popcorn floating in some kind of heavenly fake buttery oil with my 3-D glasses on.

  As the movie let out, the drama of the past twenty-four hours finally caught up with me. I checked into the motel on the outskirts of town. I felt a twinge of guilt, thinking about Ripper, but assured myself that he was in good hands. He had a warm, dry place to sleep, and Travis would probably give him lots to eat.

  Guilt temporarily assuaged, I took a long, hot shower, slipped naked between bleached sheets, and fell asleep to bad cable programming.

  Travis

  I woke up to the sound of power saws and hammering. Ripper had two paws on my chest and was looking at me expectantly, tail wagging.

  I guessed that meant Rissa was back.

  Relief warred with irritation. We’d stayed up half the night waiting. Worrying. She couldn’t have called? Then I realized, that no, she probably couldn’t. As far as I knew, she didn’t have a phone, and I only kept mine for emergencies. I was also quite sure I’d never given her the number, so even if she had thought about getting in touch with me, she wouldn’t have been able to.

  A few shouts had my tired eyes popping open. Loud voices. Definitely male.

  I threw on a pair of jeans and my boots, and in less than a minute, Ripper and I were on our way out the door.

  No less than three trucks were in front of Rissa’s house, and I spotted at least half a dozen guys working on removing the tree. They didn’t warrant more than a passing glance. My attention was drawn to the big guy currently smiling and accepting a cup of coffee from an also-smiling Rissa.

  And what the hell was she wearing? It looked like a tank top, but with skinny little straps and bits of lacy shit tracing all those curves that were normally concealed under formless T’s.

  Ripper made a beeline for her, wagging his tail so hard he lost his balance. She laughed and went down on one knee – her good one – and hugged him back. I’m happy to say that I retained a little more of my dignity and refrained from running and shaking my ass. Then again, I didn’t get a hug, either.

  “He missed you.” That’s what I said. Me. Captain Obvious.

  “Thanks for watching him last night,” she said lightly. As if we were back to being just neighbors. As if she hadn’t confided some of her secrets to me and I hadn’t been buried deep inside her lush little body. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble for you.”

  My eyes narrowed in warning. “No problem.”

  She gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, thanks for bringing him back.”

  Then she turned around and started talking to Handy Manny again. Dismissing me.

  “Rissa, can I talk to you for a moment?”

  She gave Manny an apologetic smile. “Would you excuse me for a minute, please?” she said, far too sweetly for my liking. “You and your guys can help yourself to the coffee. I just made a fresh pot. I’ll bring out those cookies as soon as they are done.”

  Cookies? He grinned. Smarmy bastard. Rissa turned back to me. She might not have been aware of the way the guy was looking at her assets, but I was.

  “You wanted to talk to me about something?” she asked.

  “What is going on?” I asked, keeping my voice (relatively) quiet.

  She looked over at the workers, many of wh
om had already gone shirtless. “At the moment, those guys are cutting up the oak tree that fell on my house. They said they would cut it up into pieces small enough for me to use as firewood eventually.”

  My narrowed eyes became mere slits. Cutting up her firewood was my job. And I didn’t want to share her peaches with any of them. They were my frigging peaches.

  “Then they are going to rebuild my bedroom,” she continued. “Well, it will be more like a master suite. They’re going to add a deck to the back so I can add a hot tub later.”

  “A hot tub?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “Yes. Chase thought it would be good for my leg and I have to agree. Plus, the view would be spectacular, especially come winter.”

  “Who is Chase?”

  Her eyes flicked back to Handy Manny. “Chase Schaeffer. The guy I was just talking to. He owns his own construction company. Most of these guys are his brothers, but there are some cousins and in-laws mixed in, too. He said they could have everything done in a couple of weeks if the weather cooperates. I hope the noise doesn’t bother you.”

  Had I entered the Twilight Zone? Had that storm ripped a portal into an alternate dimension or something?

  “Am I missing something?” I asked point-blank.

  “No,” she answered, turning those blue-green eyes my way. They were the same eyes I’d seen filled with passion, but they were curiously blank now. A stranger’s eyes.

  Did she want to hear me say it? Did she need me to spell it out? “What about - ” I grit my teeth and lowered my voice “- us.”

  She had the good grace to drop her eyes. “I’m sorry, Travis,” she said quietly. “I thought that maybe...” Rissa didn’t finish that sentence, shaking her head instead. “You’re a good neighbor, Travis, and I didn’t mean to take advantage of you like that.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I forgot about our arrangement. I didn’t mean for it to get too personal or to make things uncomfortable with the TMI at the lake. Just forget I said anything, okay?”

  Too personal? Was she kidding? Did she really think the incredible, axis-tilting sex we had was not personal, but telling me about her moronic ex was?

  “Mrs. Sullivan, could you come here for a minute?” Handy Manny called out. The shirtless bastard hadn’t taken his eyes off of us the whole time.

  “Mrs.?” I repeated, glancing down at her hand. Sure enough, there was a gold band there. It did funny things to me, seeing that ring on her finger.

  Rissa followed my gaze. “Five and dime. I told him my husband was currently stationed overseas,” she said, flushing a dark red, “and that the addition was going to be a surprise for him if he was able to make it home for Christmas.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked softly.

  “Because,” she said, straightening her shoulders. “There are plenty of men out there who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of a single woman living alone in a remote location.”

  I somehow kept my jaw from dropping as she walked away from me, back to Handy Manny.

  Take advantage indeed.

  Chapter 10

  Clarissa

  “Is there a problem?” Chase asked, glancing over my shoulder at Travis. I didn’t have to look back to know that his steely gray eyes were drilling a hole in the back of my head.

  “No.” I reached down deep for what I hoped was a passable smile. Travis’s intensity did that to me, which was one of the reasons I had to take a step back. Despite my best efforts, I could easily see losing myself to him. Don’t get me wrong – I’d wrap myself up in a big ol’ bow and kneel at his feet if I thought he was feeling the same thing. For a while there, I thought maybe he was. The picnic on the lake was about as romantic a “date” as I’d ever had. Unfortunately, my impromptu confession had him backing up the truck double time.

  In retrospect, I should have just sucked him off. It would have been less complicated and way more satisfying for both of us.

  “Travis is... a friend of my husband’s,” I said, quickly assembling the lie. “Best friend, really. They served together. He promised Brian – that’s my husband – that he’d look out for me until Brian’s tour was over.”

  Chase flicked a glance back over to where Travis still stood, probably listening to every word. I prayed he wasn’t going to do something stupid.

  “Looks like the man takes his promises seriously.”

  “Oh, he does,” I said, summoning a little laugh and hoping I didn’t choke on it. “It’s like having an overprotective father and a big brother looking over my shoulder all the time. I would even bet you’ll see him polishing his guns on the porch a few times before you’re finished.”

  I heard Travis snort behind me. Yep, the bugger was listening to every word.

  “But don’t worry,” I said in an exaggerated whisper. “He hasn’t actually shot anyone. Well, not lately.”

  Chase’s eyes went wide and I saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down in a hard swallow. Then he turned on his heel and started barking orders at some of his crew. Somehow, I thought my new home addition would be done even faster than originally planned.

  True to form, Travis kept his presence known all day. I’m not sure if it was for my benefit or the workers’. I’m sure I got more out of it than they did, though. Travis Maxwell cut quite an imposing figure. The construction guys were well-built and tanned but they couldn’t hold a candle to Travis, at least not in my eyes.

  By the time the crew packed up and left for the day, I had mentally prepared myself for a visit from my neighbor. Given that he’d made himself such a visible fixture, I’d expected him to show up on my porch to continue our earlier discussion.

  Pretending not to look (or care), I saw him turn around after the rumble of the last truck faded away in the distance and stalk back to his place. It was a power play. He was going to make me wait. Make me wonder if and when he’d decide to return.

  A half an hour passed, then another. I heard his big truck rumble to life, Alice in Chains crooning out “I Stay Away” as he drove away from my place, toward Harken.

  Toward Red Sugar.

  I don’t remember gathering Ripper and driving down into Harken. One minute I was looking out the screen door, watching Travis’ truck kick up dirt. The next, Ripper and I were parked on East Second Street, right around the corner from the Harken Veterinary Clinic. I didn’t see Travis’ truck parked out front, but frankly, I’d be surprised if I had. Harken was a small town even by small town standards. Travis openly claiming a spot in the lot was probably the equivalent of posting marriage bans.

  The thought made me queasy.

  But not as queasy as the sight of Travis coming out of Leiderman’s Flower Shop with a bouquet in his hands and walking through the intersection, right toward the clinic. He looked like a man on a mission, never once glancing over my way.

  Red Sugar probably suspected something was going on between us. He would have to butter her up, do a bit of groveling to get back into her good graces.

  I’d told him that I didn’t do drama. Let him know that if he wanted to continue whatever he had going on with Red Sugar, we’d go back to being neighbors without benefits.

  I guess he’d made his choice.

  What the hell was I doing here anyway? Hadn’t I just decided that I needed to distance myself emotionally before Travis inadvertently shredded my heart?

  Too late for that, my heart said.

  I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt the hot wetness on my lap. I pulled out and hung a U-ey right there and went back home as fast as the road allowed.

  Travis

  I debated off and on all day about buying Rissa flowers. I mean, most women loved flowers, but Rissa was unlike any woman I’d ever met. None of the normal rules applied to her.

  The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the right thing to do. For as tough as Rissa wanted me to think she was, I’d seen the vulnerability in her eyes. She wanted
me to think she didn’t care, but she did. By leaving her alone that night, I’d hurt her. She’d taken a chance by sharing something personal with me and I’d balked.

  By this morning, though, I’d come to terms with the fact that I could not have a no-strings kind of relationship with Rissa. But when I saw all those guys checking her out like she was some kind of pizza-beer-Superbowl combo, I nearly lost my shit. That’s when I really knew.

  I wanted her. Not as a neighbor with a gift for peaches. Not as a convenient hook-up. As... everything. I wanted that ring on her finger for real. I wanted mine to be the last face she saw at night and the first one she saw in the morning. I wanted to make her mine so that if that asshole ex of hers ever found her, he’d have to go through me.

  She hadn’t said he was looking for her, but I wasn’t stupid. A woman doesn’t change her name, move to the boonies, and live like a hermit without reason.

  So here I was, following the footsteps of countless males who had screwed up with the women they loved, buying flowers. I was thinking that maybe I should get some chocolate, too, when I heard it – that familiar engine with the slight knock.

  I looked up just in time to see the brake lights flash briefly before disappearing. Rissa was here? Why? Had she followed me into town? My heart swelled right before it dropped like a stone in my chest.

  “Well, hello, soldier,” Sugar said from right behind me.

  I know I probably shouldn’t have been grinning like an idiot all the way back up the mountain, but I couldn’t help myself. One, Rissa had followed me into Harken – a place she never went voluntarily, and two, she was jealous. In my book, it confirmed that she cared more than she was letting on and that I wasn’t the only one feeling territorial.

  Not surprisingly, she didn’t answer her door. Her Jeep was parked somewhat cockeyed as if she’d parked and jumped out quickly. And I could hear Ripper’s soft barks on the other side of the door. For such a big dog, he had the deepest, softest bark – like a rumble of thunder too far away to be heard properly. I wondered vaguely if it had always been like that, or if the accident had somehow damaged his vocal chords.