The Good Girl

by Barritt, Christy

  “We left the grocery store together.” A mournful smile grazed his lips. “We got married three months later.”

  “Love at first sight, huh?”

  “Love is a nice way of saying it.” He looked at me, a half smile on his face. “I’m pretty hopeless, huh?”

  I shook my head, my reaction surprisingly honest. “It’s refreshing, actually. Most people try to cover up their pasts, to smooth over any rough edges. Either that, or they flaunt it. You seem authentic, and I appreciate that.” I could use some pointers, for that matter.

  “I’ve made my share of mistakes. Had my wild days. Done plenty of things I regret.”

  I held my hands up as if displayed the grand prize on a game show. “But look at you now.”

  “Still messed up but saved by grace.” A winsome smile flashed across his face.

  “Can I be nosy for a moment, Cooper?”

  “I’m an open book. Go ahead.”

  I shifted. “What happened to your wife?”

  He looked off in the distance. A breeze swept through and ruffled his hair and brought with it the scent of our leftover food. I just stared at Cooper, waiting to hear his story. Not many people in their early thirties were widowed already. The notion seemed tragic. The notion was tragic.

  He still didn’t glance at me as he started. “When they did the C-section they found a tumor the size of a baseball. The doctors tried to remove it, but it was too far advanced. She died four weeks later.” Though he said it with the utmost control—even tones and relaxed shoulders—I still saw his pain. I wanted to reach out and touch his hand but didn’t. I didn’t know him well enough.

  “That’s awful.” It was all I could think to say.

  He leaned back, finally turning toward me. “It was awful, but she’s in a better place now. A place with no pain or suffering.” He glanced back at Austin and smiled. “And I still have Austin. His smile reminds me of Sunni.”

  “Life can really throw curve balls sometimes, huh?”

  “You speak about it like you know.”

  Half of my lip tugged up in a knowing smile. How did he see through to me so easily? “I do.” How much did I tell him? He’d just shared a heartbreaking story, so I had to say something. “I’m divorced,” I finally offered.

  “How long?”

  “One year and nine months since we separated. Eleven months since the divorce became final.” I’d refused to sign the papers for a long time, until I finally realized I had no choice. I had to let go and give up on the hope that things would somehow work out for the two of us. I had to accept my failure.

  “Any children?”

  “No. We were only married two years.”

  “Two years isn’t a long time.”

  “No, it’s not. But it was long enough for my ex-husband to decide he didn’t love me.” The words still stung, even after two years. I looked away, ashamed that I’d said the words aloud. I’ve always tried to brush things over, make it seems like the divorce didn’t affect me. Admitting that my ex had stopped loving me sounded pathetic. I wished to take the words back but couldn’t.

  “What really brings you to St. Paul? I’d guess it was to visit your sister, but your sister is halfway across the globe. Certainly she could have found someone else to dog sit...”

  I hesitated. “There’s no easy answer to the question, actually.”

  “In life, there rarely is.” His gaze held mine for a moment and understanding passed between us. No, Cooper hadn’t staged everything that had happened as a way to manipulate me into using his business. He wasn’t that type of guy. Guilt assaulted me that I’d even thought he might be.

  A voice drifted from the distance and cut our conversation short. “Hey, Fiji! Are you home?” Without seeing any faces, I already knew who it was. Candy.

  If she described me as an island, maybe I should describe her as a different sweet treat based on her mood. Today, since she’d shown up unexpectedly and without invitation, made her seem like a cheap box of chocolates brought by an unwanted pursuer.

  Cooper looked at me, and I shrugged again. What was she doing here? Didn’t normal people simply knock quietly and leave when no one answered? I sucked in a breath, trying to figure out what to do. Ignore her? Or see what she wanted? I shouldn’t be so torn, but I was.

  Before I could fully decide, I heard the squeaky gate cry out in all of its agony. And there was Candy, walking into the backyard with...Mark Champion beside her. She wore platform boots that stretched up to her knees and a short mini-skirt. All black, of course. It was like the cast of Jersey Shore, only in Minnesota. She spotted me before I could say anything. Her hand went to her hip and her head tilted dramatically to the side.

  “You’re not wearing that tonight, are you?” She nodded up and down at my outfit, her lips pursed.

  I looked down at my T-shirt and shorts. Respectable. Modest. Comfortable. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  “That’s not how you dress for a rave.” Her know-it-all gaze caught mine.

  The rave. Of course. I shook my head, suddenly wanting to crawl underneath my chair. “I’m not going.”

  Her head tilted to the other side. “Oh, come on. You’ve gotta go. It’ll be fun.” Her gaze lasered in on Cooper. “You can come, too.”

  Cooper raised his chin nonchalantly, not at all flustered by the invitation. “It’s not my scene, Candy, but thanks for the offer.”

  “You’ll miss out if you don’t.” Candy’s voice sounded singsong and teasing, like a girl who was used to getting her way.

  Cooper smiled. “Then I’ll have to miss out.”

  “I promise I’ll watch out for you, Tara.” Mark’s deep voice resonated across the lawn and all the way to the tips of my fingers, which unwillingly shivered in delight. “Like I said, we’ll be gentle on you your first time.”

  My cheeks heated. “Guys, I have other plans. I can’t go.”

  Candy made her best pouty face. “You’re being a party pooper.”

  “We just want to show you a good time,” Mark muttered.

  “I’m actually having one of those right now.” I tried to keep my voice soft, as to not insult either them or Cooper.

  Mark shrugged. “Have it your way then.”

  They turned and walked back toward the street. When I looked up, Cooper stared at me. His gaze was filled with questions. “A rave?”

  “I had no intentions of going.” Though I did seriously consider it for a few minutes. I didn’t mention that.

  His gaze remained on me, serious and...concerned? “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but I wouldn’t hang around with Mark Champion if I were you.”

  I straightened, curious now. “You know him?”

  “I know of him. And not good things, at that.” His gaze didn’t break mine. “You’re a big girl, but I just wanted to give you fair warning. That guy’s bad news.”

  Now what did he mean by that? I wanted to ask but didn’t. Instead I nodded. “Thanks for the heads up.”

  Besides, I had bigger fish to fry.

  Because there was either a ghost in my house or I was losing my mind.

  Neither possibility seemed good.

  ~*~

  When the sky was filled with more gray than blue, I decided it was my cue to head back to Lana’s. I’d much rather camp out in Cooper’s backyard—and I wasn’t a camping kind of girl—than go back to that house and face the eerie happenings there.

  I stood and brushed imaginary crumbs from my shorts. “I appreciate dinner. It was great.” I began gathering dishes. “Let me help you with these before I leave.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He flipped his hand in the air as if shoeing me away. “I’m just glad you came.”

  Austin ran across the lawn toward me. “Ms. Tara, I left my helicopter in your house.” His lips pulled downward in a frown.

  I bent down to his level. “How about you guys walk me back home and I’ll look for it?”

  “Can we, D
ad? Can we?”

  Cooper smiled. “Of course.”

  Relief filled me that I wouldn’t have to walk into that house alone. I really had to get a grip on these fears. But every time I closed my eyes, I heard the guitar music again. I felt those unseen eyes watching me.

  I unlocked the back door, scooped up Gaga, and waited for Cooper and Austin to file inside. “I think you had it on the couch, right?”

  Austin nodded.

  I stepped into the living room, my gaze on the floor. Usually, tension filled me when I walked into that room. But I remembered the shades I bought and the tension left my shoulders.

  Until I looked around me.

  All the shades were gone.

  Chapter 10

  I backed up until I hit a wall and pointed, words failing me.

  My shades. Someone had stolen my shades. I blinked, certain that my eyes were deceiving me. But they weren’t. The windows were exposed, just like my life.

  “Tara?”

  I couldn’t speak. I just pointed. Reality hit me. Someone was watching me. They knew about the shades and didn’t like them. They wanted to keep an eye on me. Even worse, they’d been inside my house.

  Were they still inside my house? My eyes widened at the thought.

  Cooper grasped my arm. “Tara?”

  “The shades are gone, Daddy.” Austin pointed also.

  Cooper’s gaze swept the walls. He dropped his hand from my arm—and I missed his touch—as he walked toward the windows. From the wrinkle between his brows, I’d guess that he was just as perplexed as me. He touched the facing, looked out the glass.

  Finally, he turned back toward me. I hadn’t realized that I’d gravitated toward Austin, but my arm had gone around his shoulders as some kind of instinct came out. I wasn’t sure if that instinct was to protect Austin or comfort myself, however.

  “I think you should call the police.”

  “They’ll laugh at me. I mean, who reports stolen blinds?”

  “In light of everything else that’s happened, I think they’ll be rightfully concerned. Someone is coming and going around here like they own the place. That’s something to take note of.” He stared up at the empty brackets on the window frame. “Why would someone do this? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  I knew the answer, but I said nothing. Instead, I walked to the phone and calmly reported the crime. The dispatcher said they’d send an officer over.

  Cooper had been wandering around the house as I was on the phone. As I hung up, he stopped in front of me. I could tell something was on his mind by the slow rise of his chest and the unflinching steadiness of his eyes. I twisted my head around to observe him better.

  “What’s wrong, Cooper?”

  He crossed the floor until he stood in front of me. “There’s no sign of forced entry.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Usually, if someone breaks into a home, there’s evidence showing where he entered, how he got in. There’s jimmy marks by the doorjamb or a broken window.” He paused, and his stare bored into me. “There wasn’t anything here.”

  The sinking feeling in my gut sunk even lower. “Then how did he get in?” Please don’t say it was a ghost. Please don’t say it was a ghost. Please don’t say—

  “Someone must have a key.” He shook his head. “I’m going to have all the locks changed for you, and I’m going to put in a security system.”

  A key. Of course. What had I been thinking?

  I didn’t argue with him about the locks or the security system. If I was going to continue staying here, both of those options weren’t options. They were necessities. Staying here was also a necessity. I couldn’t bare another failure in my life. I would conquer this house, if it was the last thing I did.

  And it just might be the last thing I did, the way things were going so far.

  “Thanks, Coop.” I huddled with Austin on the couch.

  The police arrived—the same two guys from before—and asked some questions and dusted for prints. Cooper’s lips were set in a straight line and his eyes looked permanently narrowed as he stomped around with his hands on his hips. Austin and I remained huddled on the sofa, watching everything, until at about nine p.m. when Austin snuggled against my arm and drifted to sleep. Finally, the police left and Cooper stopped by the front door to look at me.

  I pushed myself straighter on the couch, careful not to wake Austin.

  Cooper’s eyes wandered down to his son. The boy’s chest rose and fell evenly, and a soft purr escaped from his lips. Then I felt that gaze on me again. “I don’t feel good about you staying here tonight by yourself.”

  I didn’t feel good about me staying here by myself tonight either, but what were my options considering I knew no one else in this town except Cooper and Candy?

  “Do you have someone you could stay with?”

  I shook my head. “No, not really.”

  His lips pulled into a tight line until he finally said, “How about if I camp out on your couch? You’ll have a security system tomorrow and be okay.”

  A lump formed in my throat. Theoretically, there was nothing wrong with that idea. But I knew it would look bad for two unmarried singles to sleep in the same house, even if there was a little boy with us. I could still hear my old youth pastor talking about purity and the appearance of being virtuous. But should I really care about appearances when my safety could be on the line?

  “I promise not to try anything.”

  Startled, I looked up at Cooper. I realized how he interpreted my silence, and my cheeks warmed. “No, it’s not that. I just don’t want to make you bend over backward.”

  “I’d feel better if someone was here with you, at least until you got new locks and an alarm.”

  I suddenly realized that God must think it ridiculous that I tried to rule myself so much by the laws of opinion. And wasn’t that what I’d been doing all of my life? Maybe I’d cared more about what other people thought of my Christian walk than I’d cared about what God thought.

  “If you want to put Austin in the guest bedroom, I’ll grab some blankets and a pillow for you.” I didn’t mention that the room might be haunted.

  Cooper nodded and gently lifted Austin from my arms. I tried to ignore the ache in my chest as I saw the tenderness in Cooper’s eyes. As they disappeared into the back bedroom, I let Gaga outside before rummaging the linen closet. I found what I needed and tucked a sheet over the couch cushions and draped a blanket over the back.

  I let Gaga inside and wandered back into the living room. I crossed my arms over my chest as I waited for Cooper to emerge. I stared at the black fingerprint dust covering the window frames. Then my gaze traveled to those windows. I shivered, feeling unseen eyeballs following my every move again. I backed up, closer to the wall, away from the outside edges of the house.

  “Whoa!” Hands grasped my arms from behind.

  I twirled around and swallowed a scream. “Cooper. Sorry.”

  His gaze traveled the room and he must have figured out my thoughts. “You want to put some sheets up over those windows?”

  “I don’t think Lana has enough to cover all of them.”

  “We’ll buy you some more shades tomorrow.” One of his hands remained on my arm, his grasp firm and protective. In the brief amount of time I’d known Cooper, I’d come to rely on him way too much.

  “Can we talk for a few minutes?” Cooper asked.

  I nodded, my arms still pulled over my chest. With that anchor of a hand still gripping my arm, Cooper led me to the oversized chair next to the couch. I lowered myself there and pulled my knees to my chest. Cooper sat on the couch across from me.

  I stood, unable to sit still. “I just don’t understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “Ever since I started house sitting, I’ve felt like someone was watching me. I know it doesn’t make sense, but this house just gives me the creeps. There’s something about it. At first, I just thought it was paranoi
a, but now...”

  Cooper’s jaw flexed. “You need to be careful, Tara. I know it’s probably hard for someone like you to believe, but there are people out there who hurt ladies like yourself just for fun.”

  The end of his statement fell on deaf ears. All I heard was someone like you. What did that mean?

  “Tara?”

  I forced my chin up. “Someone like me?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” His eyes softened.

  “How did you mean it?”

  His expression was unwavering. “Tara, I see a lot of bad stuff all the time.”

  “And I come from the world of Pollyannas who wear rose-colored glasses?” I’d heard it before. People thought I was sheltered. Naïve. Innocent.

  “Tara—”

  “It’s okay, Cooper.” I stood and stepped away. “I’m going to bed now. Thanks for everything.”

  I hurried to my room and shut the door before he could say anything else. Maybe I shouldn’t have reacted so harshly. Maybe I should have done what the old Tara would have done—swallowed my true feelings in favor of being polite. But sometimes, I was so tired of the old Tara.

  I changed clothes and crawled under my covers. I stared at my closet door, wondering if someone lurked behind it. Cooper said he checked everything out. Still, fear rippled through my bones.

  I dug down deeper into the comforter, wondering why some material with cotton stuffed between it made me feel protected. I prayed that sleep would come quickly. But my mind still raced at Cooper’s insinuation.

  I know it’s hard for someone like you to believe...

  I knew there were bad guys out there. The Bible was the ultimate tale of good and evil. You couldn’t believe in the good without knowing about the evil. Sure, I’d never been wild. I’d never gotten myself into trouble or hung out with the wrong crowd. But that didn’t mean I was blind to what was happening in the world. I knew bad things happened to good people. I knew pain didn’t favor only the poor. I knew loving someone could be the scariest thing in the world.

  I sighed and flipped onto my back. I stared at the fan on the ceiling and the elegant glass light fixture beneath it. I visually traced the intricate swipes of plaster that decorate the white ceiling.