Trailed

by Naomi Niles

  When I walked downstairs, there was a buffet set out on the island. My mom had cooked everything that she could think of, from biscuits and gravy to pancakes, and she wasn’t done. She was standing in front of the stove adding strips of bacon onto a mountainous pile she’d built up.

  “Are you feeding the whole county?” I came up behind her, and she jolted.

  “God, you scared me.”

  “Sorry; what is all this?” I grabbed a mug and poured myself some coffee.

  “It’s for you and your brother and your dad, and I’m making everything so you can have as much as you want.”

  “I’ll have whatever I want for the next ten years if you keep it up.”

  “You and I both know that once your brother’s good and high, he’ll come out here and eat half of what I cooked.”

  “Good point.” I grabbed piece of toast.

  “Don’t tell me that’s all you’re eating.” She sighed.

  “For now. I’m sure I’ll get something else later once I’ve finished my workout.” I took a sip of my coffee.

  She went back to her bacon, flipped the rest into the pan and turned off the stove. “What are your plans for the day?”

  “I’m gonna head down to Chattanooga and start looking for a place to stay.”

  “Did you need me to come with you? I know the city really well, and I know you haven’t been there but once in ten years.”

  “No, I kind of need the time to think.”

  “What are you getting? A one bedroom?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve saved up quite a bit. Most of the pay they’ve given me went straight to savings. I could probably get a house if I wanted to, but I’m not sure I want to go to all the trouble, so I’m thinking I might rent one for now until I decide what I’m going to do.”

  “Your life’s kind of uncertain right now, isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  “I hope you find your way.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek.

  “I’ll be fine.” I walked back upstairs to start my workout.

  I hadn’t had a chance to rent a car when I landed, since my family whisked me off to their barbecue, so I was left to drive my old mustang, an ancient project car that I’d built in high school. It was jerky and needed to be painted, but it got me into town.

  I had a list of places all written up. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for or where I wanted to live, so I chose places that looked nice and checked around the neighborhood online to see how things were.

  The first place was on the edge of the city in a newer housing complex. When I pulled onto the street, I was shocked at just how small the houses were. They were thin, two-story cookie cutters, each with a small patch of grass in front that’d been advertised as a lush garden.

  The houses were all made from cheap, uniform parts no better than tissue paper, which meant the landlord was price gouging. They were three times the price of anything else I’d seen online. I gave the agent the finger when I passed the house then drove off.

  The next house wasn’t worth looking into. When I turned onto the neighborhood, I saw that there were bars on every window and thugs walking around talking to hobos that’d posted themselves near light poles and street corners.

  The third one was my safety. It was a square blue house, not much bigger than an apartment with a chain link fence surrounding it and a long telephone wire that fell down the light pole and attached itself above the front door. The houses around it were older, but there were no thugs on the street corner or bars on the windows. The neighborhood was normal, blue-collar, middle America.

  An ancient yellow beetle pulled up beside my car across the street and a large, elderly woman got out. She had big blonde hair, so high it added a foot onto her normal height. She waddled towards me her hair swinging back and forth. She wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she was looking me over, hunting down any sign of weakness. I let her, pretending not to notice.

  “Mr. Howell?” she asked.

  “Yes, my name’s Dwayne.” I held out my hand.

  She shook it, and her icy shell melted into a warm smile. Then she met my eyes. “I raised three boys in this house, and I loved it almost as much as I loved them. I need to know that you’re going to take care of it, you understand?”

  “I do, and you don’t have to worry. I’ll leave the place cleaner than when I got here.”

  “Good; come with me.”

  There was a small square living room, bare, with white, ceramic tile and black grout. The kitchen was simple, but it had the necessities, and the bathrooms were small, but they’d be easy to clean. “It’s not much, but it’s not trash, either.” She walked me into the master bedroom. “I’ll need you to use rugs. I can’t be replacing scratched tiles, and if one of those things breaks, it’s hell to fix it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I walked over to the bedroom window to take a look outside where I saw the silver and scorched brown trunk of a massive eucalyptus tree.

  “You’re military, aren’t you?”

  I turned to face her. “How’d you know?”

  “The way you hold yourself and your hair, of course. You can live here. I can tell you’ll take care of it.”

  “I will.” I nodded my head. “I think I’ve made my decision. I want the place.”

  “Really?” She sounded excited. “You have no idea how relieved I am. I’ve got a single mother with two sets of twins — two,” she repeated, “and she’s been asking nonstop if she can rent the place. I almost said yes just to shut her up, but I know little kids. They will tear this place apart.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Would you like to go over the paperwork now?”

  “That’s fine. How soon can I move in?”

  “As soon as you need to.” I spent some time going over the lease and talking to the landlord. She wasn’t picky or difficult to deal with, just determined and protective of her house. I did my best reassure her before I left to go get myself something to eat before driving back home.

  I chose a small burger place a couple of blocks away and found a booth in the back so I could have some privacy. My phone started ringing when I sat down. “Hello?”

  “Hi,” said a man’s voice. “I’m looking for Dwayne Howell.”

  “This is he.”

  “Hi, Dwayne. My name’s Fred. I believe you spoke to my sister Cara about a job.”

  I’d never heard the CO’s first name before. In the navy, everyone went by their last name. “Yeah, she said that you run Granger Security.”

  “That’s right. Did she say what you’d be doing?”

  “No, now that you mention it, she didn’t.” I took a drink from my soda.

  “I thought so. I’m going to text you an address. I’ll need you to come down this afternoon to sign some paperwork and look over the jobsite for me.”

  “No problem. I can be there right away.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  He texted me the address of a financial building downtown. It was a high rise with more than thirty floors and a view of the Tennessee River that stretched out to my right when I walked into the third-floor lobby where a large bald man with a bright red face was waiting for me. “You Dwayne?” He asked.

  “Yes, you must be Fred.” I shook his hand.

  “That’s right. Follow me.” He led me behind the desk into a cramped office where a flat screen had been embedded into the wall, displaying the feed form the security cameras. “This’ll be your office. You’re to keep your eyes on the cameras at all times unless there’s a problem.”

  “I don’t have to walk around and patrol?”

  “No, all you have to do is watch the cameras. Now,” he turned to me, “this is one of my biggest clients. My sister said you’re the best, and I expect you to act like it. I can’t have you slacking off. I lose these guys and I’m screwed. Got that?”

  “Yes, sir.” I felt my back go straight out of habit.

  He nodded his head.
“This is a good thing. I think you’ll work out well.”

  “Thank you.” We went over tax paperwork, finances, and scheduling. By the time I was done with the paperwork, I could barely focus on the lettering and I still had to drive home. On the way back, my phone started vibrating.

  “Hello?”

  “Dude…”

  “You sound terrible.”

  “I feel like somebody took a pickaxe to my face.” I heard Michael cover the receiver to mask the sound of him hacking.

  “I’m driving back from Chattanooga now. I just found a house.”

  “You’re leaving, and you just got here.”

  “I know, but I’m not that far away. You can always come down and visit me. I mean, your sister’s here, isn’t she?”

  “Why are you so stuck on my sister?”

  “I’m not,” I backed off. “I was just saying.”

  “Now, I’m just saying,” his voice went serious.

  “Got it.”

  “I was gonna see if you wanted to head down to the bar with me and some of the guys tonight.”

  “Nah, I’m gonna head home. I’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Dude, you’re gonna have to learn to have some fun.”

  “I’m military. I don’t believe in fun.”

  “Whatever, man. Give me a call. We should hang out before you leave town.”

  “Alright,” I hung up. He would flip if he found out I had his sister’s number. We were going to have to go behind his back.

  Chapter Eight

  Gillian

  “Ugh,” Lexie groaned and wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead. “I’m beat.”

  The students and mothers were packing up their things and leaving. I took a seat in one of the chairs and pulled a water bottle out of my duffel bag. “This class is one of the easiest we’ve had in a long time. Do you think the dance moms are flocking to the competition?”

  “I hope so.” Lexie sat down next to me. “If they are, they’re probably going to put them out of business out of sheer annoyance.”

  “I’m just glad you got rid of Regis. That woman was one of the worst we’ve ever had.”

  “I was more worried about her daughter stabbing one of the girls before the recital,” Lexie laughed. “I have an idea, and I want to know what you think about it. It’s a little bit unconventional, I know, but I think you’d have a lot of fun.”

  “I’m automatically pessimistic,” I joked. “What is it?”

  “Speed dating,” she announced a little warily.

  “Speed dating? That’s creepy. The idea of somebody having to resort to something like that… I don’t know, Lexie.”

  “I just don’t want to go alone,” she confessed. “You don’t have to go for any of the guys, but please don’t leave me alone with them.”

  “That’s a little bit more reasonable.” I took a drink of water.

  Tchaikovsky’s “Dance of the Swans” started blasting from inside my duffel bag. I reached in to pull out my phone. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Gillian?” A rich, deep voice. It was Dwayne.

  “Hi.” I got up to walk into the lobby, ignoring Lexie’s suspicious glare.

  “I hope I didn’t bother you. Were you working?”

  “I have a break midday. I’m glad you called. I’ve been wondering how you’re holding up.”

  “I’ve been fine. I found a place in town. It’s not much, but it’s in a good neighborhood. I’m planning on moving in tomorrow morning.”

  “Really? That’s awesome. It happened so quick.”

  “I have to work on Monday, so I’m getting things situated this week. I was hoping maybe you’d like to go out to dinner with me Saturday night.”

  I stopped, realizing I’d been pacing. He really wanted to take me out. “Saturday’s fine.”

  “Good, I’ll give you a call.”

  “Who was that?” Lexie was standing behind me when I hung up.

  “Dwayne.” I didn’t know I was smiling until his name left my mouth.

  “You are bright red, girl. You can’t even play it off.”

  “I am not.” I rushed into the bathroom to check the mirror.

  “See, it’s just like I said. You’re reliving a childhood dream.”

  “That’s not true.” I pushed past Lexie to walk out. “It’s just dinner.” She followed me.

  “Just dinner? Who even says that?”

  “Alright, you got me. I’m nervous as hell, Lexie. You didn’t see him. He’s built and tan and big and… Ugh.” I collapsed in a chair next to the front desk.

  “You can’t be thinking about any of those things if you’re going to go out with him. You don’t want to get caught up like that.”

  “I know.” I laid my head back against the wall. “But I can’t help it.”

  “Try — because we both know you’re going to go out with him. If you get attached, and he uses you for sex or drops you altogether, then you’re going to get upset.”

  “Whatever happened to you talking about how I need a life outside of work?”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to be reckless,” Lexie said. “And, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t go out with him. It could be fun, but there’s a difference between fun and jumping into a relationship. You could get hurt.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “It could.” Lexie sat down next to me. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

  “I promise. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Have you noticed how well little Beth is progressing?” I said.

  “I have.”

  “I have a confession to make.”

  “Yes?”

  “She’s my favorite. I know. I know I’m not supposed to pick favorites, but she’s just so sweet, and her mother — not at all like those petty women.”

  “Whatever you do,” Lexie leveled her eyes on mine, “don’t let it show. Those moms will hop on that so fast.”

  “I know. You should’ve seen the way Mrs. Regis was talking to me. I’m not sure, but I think there’s a chance that some of the other moms are starting to notice.” I shrank back a bit, still smiling. “But I can’t help it.”

  “I can’t, either. She really is a sweetheart. Did you see the way she was jumping up and down when she finished her exercises?”

  “Yes,” we both laughed. “I think this is a good thing, though. If we give her the help she needs, we might really be able to make a difference in her life. This isn’t just a class. These girls want to make a career out of it.”

  “That’s what I’m worried about. The moms are going to see Beth succeed and blame us if their daughters don’t.”

  “Then we have to make sure the other girls succeed, too.”

  “I like that attitude,” Lexie said.

  “Let’s get some food. I’m starving.”

  “Come on.” She grabbed her purse, and we locked up.

  Chapter Nine

  Dwayne

  I was alone in my new house. Everything was quiet, tense, and empty. If this was my new reality, then there would be no going back to civilian life. It wasn’t a home. I wasn’t sure I even knew what that meant, just what it wasn’t. I had an old TV sitting on a milk crate in the front of the room and a pair of lawn chairs sitting across from it. I’d purchased them a few hours earlier just so I could have something to sit on until I could get furniture. Now, I felt like an idiot having them there at all.

  I sighed in frustration and walked down the hall into my bedroom, where I’d setup my old twin bed from high school, along with the dresser from my old room. There was a pile of clothes sitting in the corner that needed to be folded, and I had nothing but time, so I sat down, working through the socks, boxers, then shirts and finally, pants. I didn’t have the foresight to purchase hangers, so I had to fold them up and put them in the dresser.

  I took my time making sure that they were all
neat, perfectly folded, in the place where they belonged before I stepped back to get a look at them. It was perfect, of course, but I still had an hour before I had to pick up Gillian. I was losing my mind, nitpicking at every little thing.

  I lay back on my bed and closed my eyes. I had to stop thinking about her. It didn’t matter how wonderful she looked in those shorts, how she had attached herself to me immediately, or how when she smiled, her cheeks folded in, creating the perfect dimples.

  I stood up, groaning. This wasn’t me. I was the pragmatist, not the romantic. I was the guy that talked people out of the clouds and made sure that they saw the harsh truth before they got themselves hurt.

  It was probably because it was my first date since I was a teenager. I didn’t get many chances to go off base. Most of the time, the only women I saw were covered from head to toe. It only made sense that I’d be sexually frustrated, but this wasn’t just about sex.

  Gillian was vibrant and bubbly. She had a way of making me smile when all I wanted to do was punch everyone else around me. It was infectious, irresistible, and I wanted more. I stood up and checked myself in the mirror mindlessly.

  I was wearing a white button up with the sleeves rolled up just enough to emphasize my muscles, and a pair of dark, fade wash jeans that highlighted all of the right areas. I looked good, but I wasn’t satisfied. I’d never be fully satisfied.

  I checked my phone again. It’d only been ten minutes since the last time I checked. Even if I left in fifty minutes, I would still get to her house early. I didn’t want to seem desperate. I’d just have to wait.

  I took out my laptop and started looking for something to watch online. I settled on a World War II documentary, shut off the lights, and propped myself up in bed, determined to cut off all distraction. But I couldn’t focus on what the narrator was saying. All I could think of was her face when she handed me the napkin and how scared she’d seemed.

  She wanted me. I shouldn’t have had to worry, but I was worried. I could be intense and closed off. I didn’t want to alienate her. I promised myself that I would try to make conversation and open up to her.