by Claire Adams
I resurfaced, still laughing, knowing that I probably sounded and looked like a lunatic. But that just meant I wasn’t crazy, didn’t it? Because you were only truly crazy if you didn’t know it. I knew full well how it looked, and I could see Darren rushing down to the water’s edge.
“I’m okay!” I yelled, waving, hoping that it didn’t look like the universal drowning sign. I stood up, seaweed brushing against my arm. My shirt clung to me, felt like it weighed fifty pounds. The cold air blew and I shivered, my skin covered in goosebumps.
“What are you doing?!” Darren’s voice sounded far away. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine!” I shouted back.
And I really did feel amazing. I felt cleansed, purified, completely washed clean of all the shitty feelings I’d been feeling lately.
“Are you insane?” he asked. “That water must be freezing! And we don’t have a towel!”
“I needed to do that,” I said. “I’m sorry. I know it probably looked crazy.” My teeth clacked together.
“Look, honey, I totally understand wanting to just jump in the water with all your clothes on—I might’ve had the desire to do it once or twice myself—but I never actually followed through. One, because that water is cold as fuck, and two, because there’s probably sharks or some other huge-ass predatory creatures lurking about. Never mind the fact that it’s freezing and we don’t have a towel! Here, use this to dry your hair.” Before I could say anything, he was pulling his t-shirt off and patting my wet hair with it.
“You don’t have to get your shirt all wet!” I said.
“Your hair is going to be dripping all over you if I don’t. And besides, I’ve been focusing on strengthening my core muscles lately, so I might as well show them off.”
I cast a glance at his torso, which was indeed sculpted and smooth. “You look great,” I said.
He gave me a dry look. “Why thank you. Wish I could say the same about you, but you look like a drowned rat. Let’s get back to my place so you can change out of those clothes.”
When we got back to Darren’s, I took a warm shower and used some expensive shampoo that made my hair smell like coconuts. When I got out, I put on a dry shirt and some yoga pants and wandered out to the living room, where Darren was sitting, typing something onto his phone. I went over to the side table and looked at one of the framed pictures that I’d somehow missed before.
“Is that Ollie?” I asked, picking up the picture.
“Sure is,” Darren said.
“And that must be your mom.” The picture was the two of them sitting at a picnic table. Ollie was looking at the camera, smiling, and his mom was looking at him, a matching smile on her face. “She’s beautiful,” I said.
Darren nodded. “She was. She had a hard life. Our dad was an asshole; I don’t know how much Ollie’s told you, but he certainly wasn’t going to win any father-of-the-year awards. Mom stuck it out, though. I have no idea why. Well, she probably didn’t want to break up the family, though we would’ve been so much happier without him.”
“He hasn’t told me that much,” I said.
“Probably because it’s a pretty depressing story to tell. She was finally getting to live her life and then she finds out she has cancer. I should have come back more after she found out, but I didn’t. Things were just getting started for me in terms of work, and I really never thought I’d set foot back in that state again. That is, of course, completely selfish, and my mother deserved better, but there’s not much I can do about that now. I did go back for a little while after Ollie went to prison.” He came over and stood next to me, looked at the photograph. “He was probably fifteen in that picture. Always a good kid. Our mother just couldn’t believe that he’d done what they said he did. Though I think she would’ve forgiven him that, if he would’ve come out to see her those times she went up to visit. He never came out though. Which, funnily enough, I can understand.”
“I guess I can, too. I wouldn’t have wanted people to see me like that. But, probably more than that, I would’ve wanted to see my family and friends. I would’ve been more selfish about it.”
I sighed and set the picture back down.
“You could call him, you know,” Darren said. “It might help.”
“I don’t think it would. There was a part of me that thought he was going to call, or he’d come by, right after he broke up with me, but that never happened. I think he’s moved on. Or just forgotten about me. And if I called, it would probably just annoy him and make me seem needy.”
“Breaking up is never easy. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“I know. But I am glad that I still got to come out here.”
Darren smiled, and it was like looking at a well-groomed version of Ollie. My heart ached. “I’m glad I get to be the silver lining,” he said.
24.
Ollie
Maybe it was getting easier.
Lately, there seemed to be whole hours that would pass that I’d be busy with work and I wouldn’t think about Wren. Everything was getting done how it should be, and I could tell that Garrett was pleased I didn’t seem to have my head up in the clouds anymore.
I was in the barn getting Bebop ready to go out on a group ride, listening to Ryan and Jesse argue over the merits of rodeo as they mucked out stalls, when Garrett strolled in. He stopped and watched me for a moment, patting Bebop’s neck.
“So, I just got a call from the Ericsons,” he said. “And they were planning to bring the trailer back here tomorrow, but I guess their truck just shit the bed.” The Ericsons were an older couple who were still trying to make it on their ranch, a small place with just a few horses now, longtime friends of Garrett’s. Technically, they were our closest neighbors. They’d borrowed one of the ranch’s trailers because theirs had rusted out, due to having been out of use for so long. Garrett shook his head. “It’s just one thing after another for them,” he said. “I told them not to worry about it though, and we’d come by and get it tomorrow.” Ryan and Jesse had stopped their discussion and were listening.
“I can do it,” I offered. “I can go after I finish up the morning chores.”
Garrett nodded. “That works. I’ll give them a call and let you know. You think about ten o’clock?”
“Sure. If you think of anything else you need me to do then, just let me know.” The busier I was, the better.
That night, after the evening chores were done and supper was eaten, I headed back to my cabin, hoping the busy day had tired me out enough that I could just go to bed. I took a shower, and as I was soaping myself up and washing the grit of the day away, I started to think about Wren. Just imagining her face made me begin to get hard, and I began to jerk off but then stopped after a few strokes. I was supposed to not be thinking about her.
I turned the shower on cold and it only took a few seconds of standing under the icy water to get rid of both my hard-on and any feelings of arousal. I got out, brushed my teeth, and got into bed. The second my head hit the pillow, I knew that sleep was still hours and hours away.
And the silence was deafening. I sat up, overcome with the desire to be around people. I didn’t want to talk to them, necessarily, but I wanted to be somewhere not completely consumed by silence. In other words, I wanted to be anywhere except where I was at the moment.
The only place to really go, though, was a bar. I hadn’t been to a bar since I’d been out, and I knew I wasn’t going to the Watering Hole. I drove a few towns over to a bar called Isaac’s. I’d never been there before, but that was good; I figured there’d be no chance I’d run into anyone I knew. Hopefully, I’d be able to sit at the end of the bar and be ignored, let my thoughts get washed away amongst other people’s conversations.
But right off I knew it wasn’t going to go as I wanted. I got a spot at the bar, but it wasn’t at the end, it was closer to the middle, and though the seats next to me were empty, they weren’t for long. A girl sidled up to the bar, dyed blond hair with the roots st
arting to grow out, big straight teeth that reminded me of a horse’s. She wasn’t bad looking, though, and when she smiled and said “hi,” I at least felt I should acknowledge her, not to be rude.
She must have taken that as an invitation to sit down and start a conversation, because that’s exactly what she did.
“You new in town?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. My name’s Paige.” She gave me a sassy smile and held her hand out.
“Ollie,” I said. I shook her hand, though she held onto mine for a few seconds after I tried to let go.
“You just move here?” She licked her lips in what she probably thought was a seductive gesture but just reminded me of a cat after it’d finished eating.
“I grew up around here, so I guess you can’t really say that I’m new. Never been to this bar, though.”
“Yeah, I knew that for certain. I would’ve recognize you if you’d been in here before. I’d never forget someone as good looking as you.”
I smiled wanly, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to get into whatever it was she was looking for. “I’m not really looking for that sort of thing right now.”
She arched an eyebrow. “What sort of thing? I’m being friendly, is all.”
“Well, that’s mighty kind of you.”
“Everyone could use a friend, right?”
I took a sip of my beer. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
She looked over at my hands. “You married?”
“No ma’am.”
“So, you’re not married but you’re at a bar alone. And you say you’re not looking for that sort of thing. What are you looking for, then?”
I considered this. “I don’t know. Probably nothing that I could find at a bar, so maybe I should get going.” Sleep was still a far way’s off, but I could always drive around for a while.
But Paige was still giving me that coy look, as though I was nothing more than a simple challenge she was certain she’d be able to conquer by the night’s end. “I could try to help you figure it out. You might have a lot of fun—you just don’t know it yet.”
“I’m not looking for fun right now, either.”
“Everybody’s looking for fun.”
She reached over and put her hand on my leg, inching it up toward my crotch. I grabbed her wrist; not tight enough to hurt but enough so she’d know I meant business.
“I don’t think you’re hearing me,” I said in an even tone. “I just want to be left alone.”
She yanked her arm back, a wounded look on her face. “Then why come out to a bar?” she asked as she got up off the stool. “That’s about the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard.”
“There a problem over here?”
A guy around my age had come over, looking first at me then at Paige. His face was flushed and the smell of booze was strong on his breath. They looked similar, had the same teeth. Brother and sister.
“He hurt you?” he asked Paige.
She rubbed her wrist. “He grabbed me.”
The guy turned to me. “Don’t you understand what it means when a girl says ‘no’?”
“Sure do,” I said, waiting for Paige to interrupt and tell her brother that it was the other way around—that I had been the one not interested in her advances. I realized a second later though, how very stupid that thought of mine was. She wasn’t going to say word one about it.
And her brother took my response as wising off. Anger flared in his eyes and he grabbed me, jerking me off the stool. I tried to get my feet under me but he used his momentum and the fact that I was stumbling to fling me into the side of one of the tables, the corner catching me right in the solar plexus. Would’ve been the perfect shot if he’d been trying to get an inanimate object to give me the Heimlich, but I wasn’t choking on anything. The people sitting at the nearby tables got up, taking their drinks with them. No one seemed that surprised that this was happening; it was probably some sort of regular occurrence.
“I’m getting real sick of out-of-towners like yourself coming into our place and mouthing off.”
He kicked me and my knee buckled but I remained on my feet, the pain coursing through my whole body like poison.
“Not so much of a big shot now, are you? You want to grab me? Go ahead. Grab me. I’ll give you a free shot.” When I didn’t make a move to hit him, he lashed out with his right arm, catching me on the side of the head. It felt like my brain was bouncing off the inside of my skull, there was a ringing in my ears. The urge to hit him flared but I kept my clenched fists at my side, which only seemed to enrage him further.
“Not so sure of yourself now, are you?” he taunted, his blows coming in harder and faster, to the point that I could no longer feel them because my whole body had gone numb.
“I think you’ve taught him a lesson, Ernie,” someone said. Other people started chiming in.
“Yeah, man, enough.”
“He’s not even fighting back.”
“How’s that guy even still on his feet?”
“If he’d hit back, I bet he’d have a great career in the UFC!”
Finally, the guy stopped, his breathing heavy, the anger still flashing through his eyes. His knuckles were bright red on both hands.
“I don’t know what the fuck your deal is, man,” he said, “but you’re sure as shit not welcome here. So, time to get the fuck out before I change my mind and take you outside and fuckin curb your ass.”
There was laughter now. “Ernie, you’re not going to curb anyone.”
“You’re gonna have to walk a few miles to find a curb.”
I headed for the door, though it felt like I was floating a few inches above my body, and I had to try to control it the way you had to control a car in a video game. I passed Paige on my way out, who had started the whole thing, and though she had the faint trace of a smile on her face, I could see she felt bad.
“Why didn’t you hit him back?” a guy with a goatee and lots of acne asked. He held the door open for me. “You should’ve hit him back.” He shook his head. He felt bad for me too, I could tell, or maybe he just thought I was stupid.
I limped outside, my face feeling swollen and hot, my ribs aching. Now that I was in the fresh air, I could suddenly feel every ache and pain and I was barely able to make it over to my truck. Why hadn’t I hit him back? It wasn’t that I’d been afraid of him. It wasn’t that I’d been afraid if I started to hit him, I wouldn’t have been able to stop. I wanted to know that I could stand there and take it. That I had the self-control to not fight back, even if it was in a situation where I hadn’t done anything wrong.
I opened the door to the truck and crawled in. I reclined the seat all the way back and lay there, tasting blood from a cut in my mouth. I think I passed out for a little while, because when I came to, the parking lot was empty and the bar had closed. My whole body felt stiff and was throbbing in pain.
“Fuck,” I said. I sat up, moved the seat forward, and fumbled for the keys. Driving was probably not the smartest idea right now, but I didn’t want to still be in the parking lot when the sun rose. I needed to get back to the ranch.
I made it, somehow. I parked the truck near the barn so the headlights wouldn’t wake up anyone sleeping in the cabins, and I gingerly walked to my own cabin. All I wanted to do was sleep.
I had to force myself up on time the next morning. The pain felt a thousand times more intense than it had the night before, though the swelling in my face had not gotten worse. I looked at myself in the little mirror above the bathroom sink. Luckily, I wasn’t planning on doing any group rides today, and if I had to, I could probably steer clear of the guests. And if any of them asked, I could say I’d gone bull riding and gotten thrown.
“Rough night last night?” Ryan asked, eyeing my face.
“Something like that.”
“Shit. That’s hurtin’ for certain.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So, you’re still planning to get the hors
e trailer from the Ericsons?”
“Shit.” I nodded, even though I’d completely forgotten that Garrett had asked me if I’d be able to get the trailer. “Yeah, I’m still planning on it. What time is it?”
“Nine-thirty. You told Garrett ten, didn’t you?”
“I guess I did.” I couldn’t remember exactly what time I’d said, but that seemed right. “I better go get the keys.”
I went back to the cabin and found the keys, then limped back toward the truck, which was where I had left it last night. Garrett was down at the barn, talking with Ryan about something. He frowned when he saw me.
“What in hell happened to you?” Garrett asked, eyeing my face.
“Nothing,” I said. “It’s fine.”
“It don’t look fine. You look like you should be lying in bed with an ice pack on your face.”
“It looks worse than it is.”
Garrett gave me a long look. Things had been going pretty well lately, at least in terms of gates not being left open or water being left on; the ranch had been running smoothly and I hoped he was realizing that I was handling my shit.
“It was a misunderstanding,” I said.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Looks painful. Why don’t you stay here and I’ll go get the trailer.”
“No, I can go.”
He shook his head. “It’s just going to upset Maureen Ericson if you show up there with your face looking like that. Trust me, it will.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s no problem. I’ll take this truck, though, save me a trip back up to the house to get my keys.”
I hesitated, but then handed him the keys. “Thank you,” I said.
“Wait a second—I thought Ollie was going to do it,” Ryan said.
“He was,” Garrett said, “but I’m going instead.”
“Don’t you think Ollie should go?”
