by Taylor Dean
At least I think we did. My inexperience leaves me clueless.
As we drive away, I turn in my seat and watch Stony’s homestead until it disappears into the horizon. I wonder how I ever thought of this place as desolate. It suddenly seems like the most perfect place in the entire world. The surrounding land looks different to me now. I love the wide open space, the uninterrupted view of the horizon, and the fresh breeze that whips through the air. I silently nickname it Camelot. It had an effect on me when Stony randomly quoted from the musical and the title song keeps playing in my mind. His home is a place meant for happily-ever-aftering. I wonder if Stony realizes that’s what he’s building. I wonder if he realizes he’s holding out hope for his jailbird. Of course he is. He keeps her picture on his nightstand. I don’t think this house is simply a place for him to endure the rest of his life. He has plans.
And I’m not included in them. Why do I suddenly feel as though I’m leaving the place where I belong? This place feels like home to me now. I’m not sure how that happened.
“Where to?” Stony asks. “Bus or plane?”
Good question. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. A plane would be so much faster, but with my budget, I choose the bus. I figure it will be a lot cheaper. I Google the bus station and find there’s a bus leaving for Lubbock in two hours. Perfect.
“The bus station will be fine.”
The roads are indeed clear, but the large masses of water near the sides of the road are a constant reminder that this area was recently flooded. Stony offers to show the small town of Roby to me before we drive to Sweetwater and I readily agree. I’m curious to see this much-talked-about place. Even though I knew it was going to be a small town, the reality of just how small it really is still surprises me. A sign tells me the population is 673 and the saying, “If you blink, you miss it,” couldn’t be more apt. The town consists of one main road. One. It’s surrounded by residential homes. That’s it.
Even so, I understand Stony’s fondness for the area. His family history gives him a soft spot for the land. We drive in silence, only broken by me thanking him for his help. “Thank you, Stony, for all of your help. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you.”
“Sure,” is all he says in response.
Why do I feel as though his silence is filled with meaning? He’s saying something to me, I just haven’t figured out what it is.
Maybe the silence is bothering him too, because he flicks on the radio. It makes me feel like he’s sending me the message that he’s not interested in small talk. But I know that isn’t really the case. I just don’t know what to say in this situation and I’m guessing he doesn’t either.
I hear Garth singing about The Dance and I feel as though I’m missing out on life. Occasionally we slosh through a large puddle of water still fighting for the right to inhabit the roadway. Each splash of water that hits the windshield reminds me why I’ve been able to spend so much time with Stony and causes a dagger to pierce my heart.
As we enter Sweetwater, I take out my phone and call him. Yes, I memorized his number when I used his phone to call Cait. When his phone rings I say, “It’s just me. Now you have my number.”
“I’ll call sometime,” he says noncommittally.
“I’d like that,” I tell him. I don’t know how else to tell him that I’d love to keep in touch. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again or even speak to him.
When we arrive outside the bus station, he reaches for his wallet. “Let me help.”
“No,” I say. “Thank you, but I’m fine. You don’t need to give me money. I appreciate the offer though.”
“You bet. Will you be okay?”
“I’m fine now, thanks to you.”
He shrugs, but he’s staring into my eyes as if he wants to say something more.
He doesn’t.
I swallow any and all disappointment and give him my best smile. “Thanks, Stony. Take care.” This is awkward. I don’t want to leave things hanging between us, but I also know it’s too early for anything more to happen.
He offers me his signature nod. “You too, Spencer Elliott.” He reaches into the backseat and hands me a paper sack. “Almost forgot. Made you a sandwich. Nothing fancy.”
I’m touched as though he just gave me a diamond bracelet. “Thank you.” There goes my breathy voice again. I’m seriously about to burst into tears over a sandwich. At least, that’ll be my excuse. I’m going to miss this man. “You can’t hide it from me, Stony. I know you’re a good man.”
“Hmmmm,” he says. “Don’t tell.”
“It’ll be our secret.”
I get out and he waves at me. It’s a typical guy wave, just one hand placed in the air toward me. But I love it and read way too much into it. I imagine he’s so sad to see me go, a quick wave is all he can manage as he leaves.
I live in a fantasy world.
I stand on the curb and watch him slowly drive away. I’ve always felt the saddest sight in the world is watching someone leave my life. Life is so unpredictable and I never know if it will be the last time I see that person.
His truck stops in the middle of the parking lot for no reason and I see his brake lights turn bright red. I hold my breath for a moment, wondering if he’s going to change his mind and come back for me.
He doesn’t. His truck surges forward and off he goes.
If Stony wanted something more to happen between us, surely he would’ve said something. At this early stage in our relationship, I suppose a phone call is about all I should expect anyway. It means I have something to look forward to. If he doesn’t call me, I’ll call him and test the waters. I vow to myself that this isn’t the last time I ever see Stony.
Somehow. Someway.
I finally found a man I’m attracted to. At the very least, I’m thankful to have met him for that reason alone. Now I know that I’m normal—and capable of the same feelings most girls feel. My mom was right, it just takes the right man.
I make my way to the counter and I’m pleased by the inexpensive bus fare. Thank heavens it won’t put a significant dent into the small amount of savings I’ve been hoarding like a pack rat. I’ll get home and get a job right away. I placed way too much confidence into getting the internship. That was foolish of me. As my father says, I put all my eggs in one basket.
I hand the ticket agent my debit card and let my thoughts wander to Stony once again.
I can’t place what it is that makes me like him so much. It’s not as if we spent our hours together in deep conversation. Perhaps I’m more intrigued by him than anything else. Clearly, I’m attracted to him, but that doesn’t a relationship make. I sigh and wonder what he was like before his accident, before a portion of his leg was taken from him, before he was scarred for life. I imagine he was still silent Stony, and yet a completely different person.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Your debit card has been declined.”
I’m brought back to the present with a jolt. “What?”
“Declined card, ma’am. Do you have another way to pay?”
My face turns red. I can literally feel the heat climbing up my cheeks. “Here, put it on this,” I say, handing him my credit card.
I don’t understand. Why won’t my debit card work? My small nest egg is stashed away in that account. There must be some mistake. I’ll call the bank right away.
“Sorry, ma’am, your credit card has also been declined.”
I’m stunned and don’t say a word for thirty seconds. “Can you try it one more time?”
The agent tries it again with the same results.
“Excuse me,” I mumble. Seething, I find a bench and call my bank. In my heart, I know what has happened, but I have to find out the extent of the damage.
After I answer a few security questions to ensure it’s really me, the lady on the other end of the line informs me that two large cash withdrawals have recently been taken from my account. They suspected fraudulent activity and have been trying to reach me.
Since I just received my phone this morning, I planned to check all of my missed calls and emails on the long bus ride ahead of me. Therefore, this is news to me.
“H-how much do I have left?” I ask.
“Twenty-two dollars, ma’am.”
If I wasn’t sitting on a bench, I think my knees would’ve buckled from the news. I can’t believe this is happening. Finn practically cleaned me out.
“Has your debit card been stolen?”
“No . . . well, yes, it was taken from me for a time, but it’s back in my possession now. What do I do?” My voice trembles from shock.
The lady at the bank spends the next ten minutes telling me the steps I will need to take in order to get my money back. The entire process makes my head spin. I will be able to get my money back, but it doesn’t happen overnight.
And I need the money now. Twenty-two dollars won’t cover my thirty-five dollar bus fare. I inform the bank of Finn’s name, address, and phone number. He’s not going to get away with this.
I quickly dial the number on the back of my credit card. Again, I have to go through the process of proving I am who I say I am.
“We noticed some unusual activity on your card. For your safety, it’s been cancelled.”
“What kind of activity?” I ask, dreading the answer.
“A large purchase at a sporting goods store and a rather large sum at a bar. Were these purchases made by you?”
“No they were not,” I say through clenched teeth. I have a few words to say to Finn Delaney, none of them very ladylike. I also give them Finn’s contact information and they forward it to their fraud department. Take that, Finn.
They promise me that they do indeed follow through with investigating the perpetrator, but I wonder if anything will ever come of it. The police have bigger fish to fry and I’m sure my case is one of thousands.
“We’ve been trying to reach you, ma’am.”
It seems a lot of people have been trying to reach me while Finn played havoc with my resources. “I’ve been out of town.”
“Would you like us to send you a new card to your address on record?”
“Can’t you just turn my current card back on?”
They go on to tell me with unemotional apologies that once fraud has been confirmed, they cannot reactivate my current credit card.
I hang up on them mid-sentence. They will no longer receive my business. In fact, they will receive a strongly worded letter from me. They’re leaving me abandoned just as Finn had.
I sigh. It’s not their fault. I know all the precautions are there for my safety and I’m truly thankful for how quickly they caught the fraud. Still, it’s upsetting to know they can’t help me right now when I need it the most.
My next call is to Caitlyn. But it’s not Cait who picks up the phone. It’s her hubby, Ben, and he sounds harried.
“Hey, Spence. Can she call you back in a couple of hours? She’s with Ashlyn. We’re at the hospital because Ashlyn’s been real sick and they’re doing some tests. She got some sort of stomach flu and is very dehydrated. We haven’t been able to get her to eat or drink anything. They’ve already admitted her and plan to keep her overnight. My poor baby girl.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Ben. Give her a kiss from me.”
We hang up and I know I can’t ask them for help, at least not for a few days. They have their hands full and I won’t burden them with my troubles.
I look around at my surroundings and realize I’m back to square one. It’s as if I’m still trapped in that one single hour when Finn decided to dump me. It looks like I’ll be trapped in that hour for a little longer. Time won’t let me move forward. I’m stuck. Why does this area of the world want to trap me here? Is fate trying to tell me something?
I wipe the sweat from my forehead and realize I’m parched. The bus station is an open-air building with no air conditioning and no breeze, making the air stale and stifling. I glance at the temperature. Ninety-nine degrees. Ugh. In spite of the heat, outside feels better than inside. I catch sight of a vending machine filled with ice cold bottled water and I know exactly what I’m going to do. I search my purse and count my cash and coins. I have a whopping four dollars, but I dig up sixty cents in coins from the dark wasteland located at the bottom of my purse. I never know what I’ll find in there. I use two precious dollars to purchase an over-priced bottle of water. I find a bench outside of the bus station and plant myself on it. Even though the hot sun beats down on me, I fight back by taking slow sips of deliciously frigid water until I drain the entire bottle.
So there.
I think about each and every time my father told me to carry emergency cash with me. He carries a hidden hundred in his wallet at all times. He grew up in the day and age when you couldn’t use a debit or credit card wherever you went, like a fast food place or Starbucks; you had to have cash. I rarely ever carry cash on me. I use my debit card for everything.
I can hear my father saying, “I told you so.” I need to listen to him more often.
Now what? I sit and stew for at least fifteen minutes before I pick up my phone. I should’ve just accepted Stony’s offer of cash. Now I have to ask for it. I have too much pride and I hate asking for his help again. But what choice do I have? I dial his number and it goes straight to voicemail. He said he had to pick up supplies. I’m pretty sure he’s still in town and probably busy.
I wait another fifteen minutes, during which time I drink one more ridiculously priced bottled water. I enjoy every last drop. I now have only sixty cents, but I’m well hydrated and I won’t be passing out any time soon. I call Stony again and get his voicemail.
I try his phone every ten minutes for the next half hour. I’ve always been much too persistent for my own good. I don’t leave a message.
I finally accept that he’s ignoring me. It takes a while for me to process the fact. The thought hurts. A lot. He was so kind and so concerned for my well-being. I guess he’s done with me. I didn’t expect that. At all. A single tear escapes and I wipe at it angrily.
Okay, no more feeling sorry for myself. Stony has already done more than enough and it’s time for me to take responsibility for myself.
I need to evaluate my options. Once again, I find myself in a precarious situation. Seriously, I shouldn’t be allowed to leave my home. I really am a functioning adult, but I feel like an irresponsible child. This is verging on ridiculous.
I Google the bus schedule and find out the next bus to Lubbock isn’t until tomorrow morning.
This day just keeps on getting better.
I twirl my cell phone in my lap over and over, thinking over my choices. I can call my parents. They’ll wire me the money I need. I hate that idea so much. It’s like admitting that I’m irresponsible. I’ll cause my mom so much worry too. I hate to make them anxious about my well-being, especially when they’re so far away. I glance at the time. Jamaica is only one hour ahead of Texas time. I have no excuse not to call them.
I decide to stall the inevitable. I just want to sit and think for a few moments. I remain on the bench, loving the sun after drinking so much cold water. It seems ironic that moving to Texas and getting accepted into nursing school was all done to improve my future. Instead, I’m practically homeless and broke. I feel defeated, like life has me beat once again.
I know that feeling is exacerbated by missing Stony. Obviously he wants nothing to do with me. I guess I imagined the connection between us. I imagined everything between us. Kissing me yesterday was probably the last thing on his mind. He must’ve known I was willing, it was probably written all over my face. How embarrassing.
I nibble on the sandwich Stony made for me. With every bite I think of his hands preparing it for me. It’s just cheese, lunchmeat, and lettuce, but it’s the best sandwich I’ve had in years.
I’m procrastinating the phone call to my parents with the hope that a miracle will happen. The fantasy world I live in is alive and well.
&nb
sp; I dwell on my situation over the next half hour and finally give in. It’s time to call my parents. I take out my phone and begin typing in their number.
But then I look up to see Stony’s truck pulling into the parking space in front of me. I press end call and let my phone fall onto my lap.
He idles there for a minute, the sound slicing through the air and announcing his presence. Our eyes meet through his windshield and neither one of us moves. I know I look upset because I am—upset at my circumstances, and upset that he didn’t pick up his phone.
He cuts the engine and slowly gets out of his truck. He walks a few steps toward me. “Some jerk abandon you?”
For all of his serious ways, he sure makes me want to laugh sometimes. I want to be mad, but I can’t keep it up. I’m too happy that he returned for me. “Won’t answer his phone when I call either.”
“You sure know how to pick ‘em.”
“Are there any good men out there?”
He pretends like he’s thinking it over. “Might be one or two.”
“Do they have warts on their noses and hairy moles on their chins?” I ask.
“No one’s perfect. Least they won’t leave you on the side of the road.”
“Or at a bus station,” I say, even though he didn’t really leave me here.
He looks down and kicks the curb with his good foot. “Sometimes they realize their mistake and come back.”
I say nothing, but the fact that he thinks it was a mistake to drop me off at the bus station intrigues me.
“What are you doin’?” he asks in all seriousness.
“Waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
For my life to begin. Of course, I don’t say that out loud. “Waiting for help to arrive.” I’ve been swallowing my pride and gathering courage. Sometimes it takes a while to muster. Secretly, I know I was waiting for Stony to return for me. The thought was there, hiding in the back of my mind. I can’t deny it.
“Why?”
“Finn used my credit card. It’s been cancelled. He cleaned out my bank account too. I couldn’t buy a bus ticket and there are no more busses to Lubbock today.”
