by Gen Griffin
Trish didn't feel like talking. David still hadn't called.
She'd driven past the diner and up Main Street. The windows of Walker Hardware were dark. The doors locked for the night. Breedlove Automotive was also locked up tight. The shop had never even opened today, despite the fact that it normally was open on Mondays.
Trish had driven all the way to Canterville quietly hoping David would call. Her phone had stayed silent.
Trish picked up her beer and took a single, bitter sip.
“You look lonely. Can I buy you a drink?”
Trish blinked and then looked sideways to see a heavyset young guy with a scruffy beard standing to her left. He smiled at her with the easy confidence of someone who was well on his way to being drunk. “No thanks,” Trish said.
“You don't want a beer?” He held up his own beer.
“I don't need another beer,” Trish held up her own beer. The bottle was almost completely full. “I'm not a big drinker.”
“Oh. I gotcha.” The newcomer pulled out one of the chairs and sat down without being invited to do so. “I'd tell you that I wasn't a big drinker neither, just so you'd think we had something in common, but it would be a lie. I've learned not to lie to girls. Y'all always ferret out the truth somehow.”
Trish nearly smiled. “Lying would be a bad idea.”
“You looking for some company tonight?” The guy asked. “My name is Jefferson Culler. Most folks call me Jeff. What's your name?”
“Trish.” She wished he would go away but she hadn't been raised to be rude.
Jeff smiled at her with crooked teeth. “Its real nice to meet you, Trish.”
She halfheartedly smiled back. It surprised her to realize that the novelty of being hit on had worn off since she'd moved to Possum Creek.
The waitress appeared with her food, depositing it on the table along with a bottle of ketchup. Trish still hadn't taken more than two sips of her beer.
“A burger,” Jefferson grinned at her food. “Most girls I know would have picked the salad.”
“A shrimp and jalapeno salad sounded disgusting.” Trish picked up one of the curly fries and casually dipped it in the little paper bucket of mayonnaise that had accompanied the burger. “I wanted dinner, not someone's culinary experiment gone wrong.”
“Shrimp and jalapeno salad?” Jeff crossed his eyes and wrinkled his nose.
“Waitress says its tonight's special. You should try it, if you like salad so much.” Trish popped her own french fry in her mouth.
Jeff laughed and patted his own rather ample stomach through his bright green State University t-shirt. “I'm more of a burger and pizza guy. I don't worry too much about keeping my girlish figure.”
“Me neither.” Trish picked up the burger and took a bite. It was greasy, sloppy and not particularly easy to eat one-handed. She wished that Jeff would wander off to flirt awkwardly with someone else. Surely she wasn't the only girl in the entire restaurant.
Trish scanned the room and caught sight of a short, athletic girl with bleach blonde hair, tiny waist, thick thighs and skin-tight yellow jeans that displayed a booty she was clearly quite proud of. The blonde turned away from the bar with a shot glass full of something bright blue. Her tube top was covered in a bright Aztec pattern and her exposed skin was a terrifying shade of golden tan that could only have been achieved by falling asleep in tanning bed. Daily. The blonde was staring daggers in Jeff's direction.
Jeff noticed Trish watching the bar and followed her gaze, only to blanch and duck his head when he caught sight of the blonde. “Shit.”
“Are you okay?” Trish was almost amused.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Jeff asked her abruptly.
Trish set down her burger and tried to think of a one-word answer that would explain being not-completely divorced from Curtis while hypothetically engaged to David. Who wasn't speaking to her anymore. “Um. Its. Well. It's-.”
“Is he meeting you here tonight?” Jeff cut her short. He had a slightly panicked look in his friendly chocolate brown eyes.
“No.” Trish was certain of that one.
“I'll give you every dime in my wallet if you'll pretend you're here with me when Makinsley asks,” Jeff said. He cast another sideways glance over his shoulder.
“Makinsley?” Trish followed his gaze to the blonde with the shots in her hand. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“She's a mistake. One I keep making while drunk and then waking up to regret in the morning,” Jeff explained. “A bad, bad mistake. One minute, I stop by here for a beer after work with a couple of the guys. Next thing I know, I'm naked and tied up on a purple paisley comforter.”
“And you're complaining?” Trish felt the need to clarify.
“Let me put it this way. Makinsley is a Venus fly trap and I'm the fly.” He shot her a pleading look. “I'm serious. I'll buy your dinner and give you all the cash I have left. It should be somewhere around $100. All I'm asking is for you to tell her that we're having dinner and a couple of drinks together. Just a friendly dinner date. Nothing more.”
The blonde, Makinsley, was headed their way. She was wearing roughly a pound of pancake foundation and her eyelids were dusted in yellow glitter. Her teeth were almost glaringly white as she smiled through lips too swollen to be natural. “Jefferson.”
He stiffened visibly as he turned. “Mak. I didn't know you were coming here tonight. I thought you normally went somewhere else on Mondays.”
“My schedule unexpectedly opened up.” She set both of the shots on the table in front of Trish and then fluffed her hair in a practiced gesture. She placed one hand in the center of Jeff's chest. He tried to back up slightly, which proved quite difficult because he was already sitting down.
“I'm sure you'll find someone to fill it.” Jeff shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He looked like he had ants invading his jeans.
“I was thinking you and I might have some fun tonight,” she said shamelessly. “Except you're sitting here with some other girl.” The blonde narrowed her eyes at Trish. Her eyes were purple, which gave Trish a pause until she realized they had to be colored contacts.
“Sorry. No wait, I'm really not.” Trish wasn't in the mood to play cute with a bar slut. She was going to be dealing with all the sluts she could handle if Nellie showed up at Grover's funeral. “Jeff promised to buy me dinner and another drink. Maybe you could wait to poach him until after I finish my food?”
Jeff's eyes widened slightly and he choked to avoid laughing. The blonde stepped back away from him as if she'd been slapped.
“Excuse me?” She put both her hands on her hips and tried to intimidate Trish by giving her the evil eye.
“I asked you, sort of politely, to stop hitting on my date.” Trish picked her burger back up and took another bite of it. All the nice had drained out of her during the last three months. She'd been telling her mother the truth when she said she was learning to stand up for herself.
“Your date?” Makinsley turned to Jeff. “You didn't tell me you were here with her.”
“I'm sitting at a table with her, Mak. You can see her. You can see me. We're having drinks and chips.” He picked up a chip, hurriedly dunked it in the salsa and then jammed it into his mouth. He made a real process out of visibly chewing the tortilla chip. “What did you think this was?”
“I figured you were trying to avoid me by hitting on some tourist.” Makinsley was surprisingly on target with her suspicions.
“I'm not a tourist.” Trish reached for the little blue shot of liquor that Makinsley had carelessly set at the edge of her plate. She tossed it back with a quick, easy swallow. It was smooth but it had a vicious after-burn.
“Hey!” Makinsley reached to snatch the glass back from Trish.
Trish let her take it. It was empty. “You're taking liberties with the guy who's buying my dinner. I'm taking liberties with your drinks. Fair trade.”
Makinsley actually took a step back from Trish. “You either have a
set of brass balls under that dress or you're straight up crazy. Either way-.”
“She's straight up crazy,” a familiar voice spoke from behind Trish. She turned in her seat to see David standing behind her. His t-shirt was completely soaked through and his wet jeans hung from his hips like wash that needed to be taken out to the clothesline. Mud was caked to his jeans and boots, as if he'd been kneeling in wet red clay. He had smears of dirt and slime covering his heavily tattooed arms. His hooded green eyes had a hollow look as he stood with his arms crossed over his chest and glared at Makinsley. “Little advice for you, Mak. Don't fuck with Trisha. She looks nice and sweet, but she'll eat you for lunch.”
Trish couldn't help smiling as Makinsley did a double take.
“David.” Makinsley smiled as she walked up to him and put both her hands in the center of his chest. “Fancy running into you here. I figured you'd be up at Baker Memorial.”
“Visiting hours are over for the night.” David didn't smile as he stepped away from her. “I suggest you don't go to the hospital. Addy has enough problems without adding you to the equation right now.”
“Funny how you assume that Addison views me as a problem,” Makinsley replied snidely. “But since he's indisposed, I'm available if you need some comforting?”
“The thought of sleeping with you makes me want to bathe in bleach.” David looked positively disgusted as he stepped around her so that he was standing beside Trish. “If you're feeling desperate, why don't you run on up to Silver City. I hear girls like you can walk around downtown and make about $5 a night doing what you like to do best.” He made his hands into V-shape and then spread them apart.
“You are such an asshole,” Makinsley hissed. “If you're the best this bar has to offer tonight. then I'm going to go find somewhere better to drown my sorrows.
“Might be a good idea,” Jeff suggested with a fake smile on his face and unmistakable relief in his eyes.
“Screw you Jeff, you're a coward. Hiding behind a girl so you don't have to tell me no to my face?” Makinsley spun on her heel, slapped him across the face and stomped off.
“Not the worst thing she's ever done to me.” Jeff had a resigned look on his face. One of his cheeks was noticeably redder than the other.
“Wow.” Trish looked from David to Jeff and then back to David.
“I need a shot,” David announced to no one in particular. He looked straight at Trish. “Stay put for a minute.”
She pointed at her partially eaten burger even though she had lost her appetite. “I'm not quite done with my dinner.”
David looked from the food to Trish and then back to the food. “Glad to see you have enough sense to pass on the jalapeno and shrimp salad.”
“It doesn't even sound tempting,” Trish said.
“No, it doesn't. I'll be right back.” He headed for the bar.
Trish sighed and leaned her elbow against the table.
Jeff looked directly at Trish. “About that whole complicated relationship thing you were trying to explain earlier. You're dating Breedlove, aren't you?”
Trish opened her mouth and then closed it again with a shrug. “Honestly?”
Jeff held up his beer in her direction. “I wouldn't ask a lady to lie.”
“Pretty sure he's pissed at me.”
“Its my fault, isn't it?” Jeff looked embarrassed.
“No.” Trish played with the neck of her beer bottle. “Its my own fault.”
They stared at one another for a moment longer and then Jeff nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “If its all the same to you, I'm going to haul tail out of here before anyone else comes in and gets mad at me. I don't like tangling with Makinsley, but I'd take ten of her before I'd get into a fight with David Breedlove. Thanks for helping me out. Here's the cash I promised you.” He tossed a handful of bills down on the table.
“You don't really have to-.” Trish started to push the money back to him.
“Buy David dinner. Tell him its a thank you gift for his running Makinsley off for the night.” Jeff gave her one last friendly, worried wave and then scuttled back off into whatever corner of the bar he'd originally come from. Trish stared at the cash on the table and then decided it wasn't worth arguing over as David waked back up to the table with a tumbler of amber colored liquid in his hand. He sat down across from her in the chair that Jeff had just abandoned.
“Find yourself a new boyfriend?” David poked at the bills on the table.
“Not looking for a new boyfriend. I have enough trouble handling the men who are currently in my life.”
“Trish-.” David put his head in his hands.
“You didn't call me,” she said accusingly. “I've tried to call you half a dozen times today. I've been worried sick about you and you couldn't even be bothered calling me.”
David's head snapped up abruptly. “I've been calling you for the last two fucking hours. Your phone has gone straight to voicemail every time.”
“You have not called me.” Trish picked up her phone and held it up in front of him so that he could see the screen. “See? No missed calls.”
David snatched the phone out of her hand and scowled at it. He pulled his own phone out of his pocket and tossed it at her. “Look at my call log and tell me that I haven't tried to call you. I've been driving around looking for you for over an hour. I got back to the house and you were gone. You didn't leave a note and you wouldn't answer my calls.”
“You haven't called.” Trish opened the call log on his phone just so she could prove him wrong. Her name was repeated over and over on the screen. She frowned at it.
“I have called. I was worried sick about you. I thought that asshole Curtis might have gotten to you. I thought he might have hurt you.” David choked on the words as he poked at the buttons on Trish's screen. “Your fucking phone is on airplane mode.”
“What?” Trish felt an unexpected rush of embarrassment mixed with relief.
“Your stupid phone is on airplane mode.” David held the phone out to her so that she could see the tiny airplane in the corner of the screen. He flicked his fingers across the screen to turn airplane mode off and then handed the phone back to her. The device barely waited two seconds before it began to chime a vibrate with over a dozen undelivered voice-mails and texts.
“Oh my God.” Trish felt her cheeks flush bright red. “David, I'm sorry. I had no idea. I've been waiting for you to call for hours and then when you didn't call-. I'm sorry.”
“You're sorry because you somehow managed to pick up Jeff Culler for dinner?” David had a strange expression in his hooded eyes, but Trish wasn't picking up any jealousy.
“He offered me all this money if I would tell that girl, Makinsley, that he and I were having dinner together.” Trish pointed at the cash on the table. “He looked pretty desperate and I didn't see the harm in it. I actually told him that he didn't need to pay me, but he said to buy you dinner and tell you it was a thank you gesture.”
David scooped up the bills and counted them. “$118. Small price to pay to avoid Mak. Should have thought of that one sooner myself. Just pay some random girl to say she's with you until Makinsley loses interest and decides to go stalk some other unlucky male prey.”
“You've slept with her?” Trish wrinkled her nose and took the cash back from David.
“God no. Malone did. Malone does. All the time. He says she's fun in bed. She says it would be fun to have a threesome with me and Addy.” David picked up his drink and downed half of it in a long gulp.
“Wow.” Trish had no idea what to say to that.
“Yeah. Wow. And no. Not just no, but hell no.” David rubbed his forehead tiredly. “Why are you in Canterville?” He changed the subject abruptly.
“I was hungry.”
“The diner is open.”
“The diner is full of people who are going to want to ask me how Grover died and why Addison got shot,” Trish said. “I just wanted food. I don't know why P
ossum Creek doesn't have a McDonald's. Possum Creek really needs a fast food place. Drive in, grab a burger, drive out.”
“Couldn't agree more,” David said. He held out on hand hesitantly. “Trish, I'm sorry. I promised you I would keep you safe from Curtis. I failed completely.”
“David, no. You can't blame yourself for Curtis attacking me.” She reached up to brush his hair away from his eyes. She was startled by the hurt she saw reflected in his eyes. Up close, there was nothing cold in his expression. Instead, Trish saw fear and hurt.
“I let you down.”
“Oh god, David. I'm the one who married Curtis. I'm the one he followed to Possum Creek. I'm the one who deserves to take the blame. I ruined your life. I ruined everyone's lives.”
“What?” David caught Trish's hand in his. “No. Fuck that. This mess is not your fault. You did exactly what you should have done. You realized he was dangerous and you left him. You filed for divorce. You moved in with your grandpa. You even told Addy what was going on, and he's a cop.”
“And he's in the hospital with a bullet wound in his chest because I told him about Curtis trying to hurt me.”
“No, Addy is lying in the hospital because he's reckless and notoriously bad at paying attention.”
“Huh?” Trish blinked up at him in confusion.
“I talked to Addy.”
“You talked to Addy?” Trish's heart jumped in her chest. “He's awake?”
“He's awake. He called me from Cal's phone.”
“You're answering the phone for Cal now?” Trish raised one eyebrow at him. “Because regardless of whether or not my phone accidentally wound up on airplane mode, I did still try to call you. More than once.”
“He automatic redialed me twenty-seven times,” David grumbled. “In a row.”
“Oh wow.”
“I thought it was Cal calling me.” David gulped and turned his head away from her. He stared off into the distance, purposely looking away from Trish. “When he called me over and over and over again, I thought he was calling to tell me that Addy was dead.”
“Oh god.” Trish tightened her grip on him. “David-.”
