The Good Girl

by Barritt, Christy

  The house was just settling, I told myself. Old houses did that.

  My heart continued to drum in my ears. But no other creaks.

  My gaze went to the wall. I looked for that scowl again, a reminder of God’s disappointment. Tonight, it was gone.

  Instead of being relieved, the muscles between my shoulders tensed. I stared at the spot again. There was only one reason the scowl would be gone. The street lamp outside my bedroom window no longer let its light crawl through my shades. I had to wonder if it was poor timing or human manipulation that caused it, though.

  I didn’t have time to think about it as another creak sounded, causing my nerves to screech in fear. Was it the house settling? Or was it someone moving about on these floors?

  Maybe I was hearing things. Yes, that was it. I’d built this up so big in my mind that I was beginning to imagine things. Creaky things. Spooky things.

  I held my breath, waiting to imagine more things.

  Another creak, this one closer.

  Gaga sat up and growled at the door. Okay, maybe I wasn’t hearing things.

  The realization didn’t comfort me. At all.

  I grabbed Gaga and held her to my chest. She continued to growl. Was someone out there? Were they coming toward my door? Should I call the police?

  Music floated into the room. Guitar music.

  I couldn’t move or breathe or halfway think.

  Cooper’s security system was supposed to prevent this. But someone had gotten inside anyway.

  A ghost had gotten inside.

  And I had no idea what to do.

  So I prayed. Fast and furious. Any doubts about God seemed to disappear.

  The music kept playing, some kind of enchanted-sounding melody that only managed to strike more fear into my heart.

  Was it coming from inside the house? Could someone outside—like my creepy neighbor—be playing a guitar outside my window?

  No, I decided. The music was definitely coming from the guest bedroom. But I’d moved that guitar to the basement just this morning.

  My gaze focused on my door. I blinked. Was it my imagination or did the doorknob turn?

  Gaga growled and then barked.

  The doorknob went still.

  Then something crashed.

  Chapter 16

  I never thought I’d be so glad to get away from Elm Street. My initial impressions were incorrect. It was the street of nightmares and not the street of quaint American dreams. I could try to spin it any way I wanted, but the truth remained that something dark was going on inside Lana’s house, and I had no idea what to do about it. At best, this seemed like a cheesy episode of Scooby-Doo and, at worst, like something that would one day end up on Dateline NBC.

  I sat beside Cooper in the front seat of his truck while Austin played with some toys in the backseat. We went through a drive-through and got biscuits and coffee to enjoy on our two-and-a-half-hour journey up north.

  I took a sip of my coffee and tried to erase the memories of last night, but the task was easier said than done. I’d remained chained to my bed by something invisible, unable to move. When daylight began lighting the windows, I managed to get out of bed. With bated breath, I’d opened my door, unsure what I might find.

  In the living room, a clothes basket had either been knocked over or had fallen. Maybe I’d stacked my laundry more to one side, causing the basket to lose balance. I could justify that occurrence, if I had to. And that explained the crash I’d heard.

  But the fact that I’d found the guitar in Lana’s guest bedroom again was what really got to me. I’d moved the instrument down to the basement, but somehow it had ended up back in that closet. I had no explanation for that. Now, it was in the trashcan behind her house, which violated a Good Girls Rule on being a good houseguest and developed a new Bad Girls Rule: Stuff is just stuff, especially if it’s not yours. For all I knew, the instrument might be worth hundreds of dollars. Right now I didn’t care about money or value. Bad Girls Rule #8: Look out for yourself because no one else will. I had to care about my safety…and my sleep.

  I sucked in a breath, determined to put last night out of my head, and glanced over at Cooper. I had to be careful not to let my gaze linger on him for too long because there was something about him that made me want to stare for hours on end. I quickly looked back out the window at the road in front of us. “So, you’re dropping Austin off at your parents?”

  “Sunni’s parents, actually.”

  My eyebrows flickered up, and dread filled me. What had I gotten myself into? I was meeting his in-laws? Was it too late to ask him to turn around? “Oh. Wow.”

  “I take him up there for a week every summer. It’s really important that they remain a part of his life. I hate to have him gone for so long, but he loves it up there.”

  What I wanted to say was, Awkward. Instead, I said, “That’s great that he has grandparents so close who want to spend so much time with him.”

  He ran his hand over his chin before spreading his arm across the seat. “They took Sunni’s death really hard. She was their only child. I would never keep Austin from them.”

  “So we’re going to Duluth, huh? I’ve never seen any of the Great Lakes before.”

  “They have a house right on the lake. Gets mad cold in the wintertime, but in the summer it’s perfect. We used to go waterskiing and camping up this way all the time.” His voice took on a wistful tone, and I could tell he missed those days. My gaze went to his hand, to his wedding ring. It was still there, still a reminder of his unavailability.

  “That sounds nice, Cooper. I’ve heard it’s really beautiful up that way.”

  He glanced over at me. “You should spend some time up there while you’re in town. It really is beautiful.”

  Get out of the ghost house for a while? That sounded fabulous. And impossible. “Maybe one day.” Once I figure out where I’m going to go and have my new start. Maybe a small town on a lake would be nice. Or maybe I should go to a big city where I could virtually be invisible. So many choices, and I wasn’t sure which one was the right one.

  “You from up that way?”

  “No. I’m from San Diego. I joined the Army after high school, became a Ranger, and then got out after serving for ten years. I got a job here and, about a month after I moved, I met Sunni in the produce section. I’ve been here ever since.”

  “Your parents still in California?”

  “Retired down to Florida, actually. They live in one of those little retirement towns, and they love it.”

  Tension attacked my muscles. They lived in Florida? Then certainly they’d heard about me. Certainly they knew who I was and what I’d been accused of.

  I didn’t think there was any hope of a relationship between me and Cooper, but, just in case hope wanted to pop its head up, bullets of despair kept sending it ducking for cover.

  “Tell me more about you, Tara. So far all you’ve said is that you’re Lana’s sister, you’re dog-sitting, and you’re divorced.”

  “That pretty much sums up my life.” I forced a laugh out. “I’m in a weird place right now.”

  “How so?”

  I looked out the window as the landscape blurred by. “Everything I thought I believed in has been turned upside down. Me along with it. I don’t know which end is up anymore. I hardly know who I am.”

  “I can tell you who you are.”

  “But you don’t know me.”

  He smiled. “I may not know all of the details of your life or your routines or the physical things that define you, but it’s easy to sense your spirit, Tara.”

  Someone like you. I bristled. “And what do you sense?”

  “In the short time I’ve been around you, I can tell that you have a sweet spirit, that you care about other people, that you’re way too hard on yourself, and that you’re struggling with a really big burden.”

  I nodded, speechless for a moment. “They teach you that in the Army?”

  “Not exactly
. I’ve always been pretty good at reading people.”

  “And you didn’t run away from me?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  The sincerity of his voice nearly had me blushing. “Because lately I haven’t liked myself. I’m not only disappointed in the circumstances around me, but I’m disappointed that I can’t seem to let go of the hurts in my life. I thought I’d be so much farther along than this.”

  “You can’t rush healing.”

  I was impressed. I really was. This man had more depth than most people I knew. He was kind but manly. Strong but gentle. Tough but compassionate. He was practically everything I’d ever dreamed about in a man. “You’re pretty smart for a guy.”

  He grinned again. “You think?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I wrapped my arms over my chest. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this comfortable with someone or the last time I’d met someone who could see past my identity crisis and still like me, faults and all.

  Not even Peter. On our second date, he’d pulled out a list of all the qualities he wanted in a woman. Thirty-one of them—an ode to Proverbs 31 perhaps? Right away, I’d felt even more pressure to be that perfect person, from the way I’d acted and dressed, to the words I said and the people I hung around. I’d been honored that I seemed to fit his expectations but, at the same time, his expectations had only fed the perfectionist beast inside me. The more I tried to conform into the person everyone wanted me to be, the more alone I felt.

  I knew I had to stop feeling sorry for myself. But why did such a simple mission feel so impossible?

  “Tara?”

  I glanced over and realized that Cooper had said something. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “Are you cold? I can turn the AC down.” He reached toward the controls on the console.

  “I’m fine.” I stared out the window another moment, thoughts swimming around in my head. Finally one of them came up for air. Casserole Girl. “So you never did tell me about the girl at your house yesterday.”

  “I did tell you it was a story for another day, didn’t I?” He glanced at me, a half grin on his face, and then shrugged. “There’s not much to say really. She’s a friend of a friend. I think she’d like to be more.”

  I wanted more information than that. I told myself it was just curiosity that drove my need for more details. “She was cute.”

  “She’s young. Something about getting older and dealing with all of the setbacks in life helps you to build character, you know? I don’t think she’s there yet.”

  “You’re in different phases of life. That makes sense.” A man who admired character in a woman? I needed to pinch myself. When did that ever happen? “Have you dated a lot since...?” I couldn’t even finish my question. I couldn’t even say Sunni’s name.

  His jaw flexed as he stared ahead. “Here and there. It’s hard to find time to date when you have a child. Plus there’s the small issue of actually meeting women you want to date.” His gaze flickered over to me. “You? You dated much since your divorce?”

  If it wouldn’t have been weird, I might have snorted in amusement. Instead, I shook my head. “No. Not at all, actually. Too many other things going on. My heart’s just not in it, you know?” A few guys had asked. A couple had asked for the wrong reasons. None of them, not even one, had been a remote possibility.

  “Yeah, I know what that can be like.”

  We pulled up to a large, well-kept cabin that had two layers of decks jutting out of the back with a direct view to Lake Superior. The blue of the lake rivaled the blue of Cooper’s eyes. Cheerful flowers dotted the landscape, along with several whimsical flowerbed decorations—a tricycle with gardenias flowing from the basket at the front, some gnomes, and an iron stand with a blue and green ball at the top. The place looked welcoming and inviting.

  Cooper stopped the truck and cut the ignition. “We’re here. You ready, Austin?”

  The little guy threw his hands in the air and let out a loud, “Yay! Grammy and Grandpa!”

  Cooper opened the door, let Austin scramble out, and paused. “Aren’t you coming?”

  I hadn’t moved. I hadn’t even taken my seatbelt off. The word “awkward” continued to do a little dance in my mind, taunting me and reminding me that interacting with Sunni’s parents would just be plain weird. “I should wait here. I don’t want to be in the way.”

  “Tara, you won’t be in the way. I promise.” He stared at me with those intense, sincere eyes, leaned halfway in the truck.

  His words were convincing, but I couldn’t help but think that bringing another woman to your in-laws house was the worst idea ever. But maybe this would be a good step for me in not caring what other people thought. Besides, once my stay in Minnesota was over, I’d be leaving this place behind. How things played out today shouldn’t matter to me—in theory.

  I shrugged and climbed out of the truck. I tried to lag behind as we approached the front door, but Cooper waited for me while Austin skipped on ahead.

  The door flew open and an older couple—whose faces absolutely beamed—stepped onto the porch and scooped down to give Austin hugs. The man was short with close-cropped white hair and a round face. The woman was plump with bobbed blondish-white hair and jellybean pink lipstick. A certain peacefulness exuded from them, and I instantly had the impression that these people were retired and loving a new laid-back lifestyle with each other in this dream location.

  They straightened as Cooper approached and pulled him into a hug also. The picture twisted my gut with some foreign emotion. They just seemed to accept him so easily, as if he were the son they never had. Their fondness for him was evident by the tears rimming their eyes. What bittersweet memories must flood back to them at seeing Cooper.

  Then they stepped back and looked at me with open curiosity. I suddenly wished I didn’t have fire engine red highlights in my hair and a nose ring. I tensed, unsure of what to say, and settled for pulling a hair behind my ear and smiling with uncertainty.

  “Gene and Margaret, this is Tara,” Cooper started. His movements showed ease and not the slightest bit of discomfort. “She’s from out of town and is along for the ride.”

  Gene reached his hand out to me, a welcoming smile across his face. “Pleasure to meet you, Tara. Why don’t you both come inside? We’ve got lunch ready.”

  Margaret grinned. “It’s your favorite, Cooper. Chicken pot pie.”

  “No one makes chicken pot pie like you, Margaret.” Cooper slipped an arm around his former mother-in-law’s shoulders as we walked inside.

  As we ate, I watched everyone interact and slowly my unease faded. Sunni’s parents seemed kind and loving. They gave me a glimpse into the person Sunni probably was also. Whomever Cooper eventually dated would have a lot to live up to. Dead spouses usually earned a sainthood medal. Sunni certainly had.

  As the grandparents and Austin slipped outside to dip their toes in the lake, I decided to give them some time alone. I feigned needing some rest and stayed inside. As soon as everyone went out, I walked over to a bookshelf and stared at the pictures there. Pictures of Sunni were scattered throughout the house. She had a big smile, confident eyes, and sun-kissed skin and hair that made her look like the type who should be on the beach surfing. She probably looked perfect in a bikini too, for that matter.

  “She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”

  I gasped and nearly threw the photo into the air. My hand covered my heart when Cooper came into focus. Not a ghost. Not a killer. Just Cooper.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you.” His grin belied his words.

  “I didn’t even hear you come in.” I tapped my heart, willing it to slow down. With Cooper this close, there wasn’t a chance. I pointed to the picture. “She was beautiful. You guys looked very happy.”

  “We had some good years together.” His gaze caught mine, and I realized how close he was standing. Close enough that, if I stood on my tiptoes, I could easily reach up and kiss him. Close enough that
he could wrap his arms around my waist. Close enough that I was sure he could sense my heart beating out of control at his nearness.

  “You’re beautiful, too, you know.” He said the words softly, so softly that I wondered if I imagined them.

  Still, I found myself saying, “Thank you.”

  His gaze captured mine another moment. It had been a long time since I felt beautiful or desirable or even worthy of a relationship. All of the self-talk in the world hadn’t changed anything. But a few words from Cooper seemed to begin the process of restoring something in me. I knew that change had to come from the inside out, but sometimes life and logic took on a mind of its own. Sometimes outside forces helped to start the inside process in motion. As Cooper stared at me now, I felt a connection between us as if it was a physical bond when, in fact, we weren’t even touching.

  The door flew open, and Cooper and I stepped away from each other. Gene paused in the entryway and grinned as if he knew he’d interrupted something. “Just grabbing some buckets so we can build a sandcastle.”

  Cooper shoved his hands down into his pockets. “We’ve got to get on the road anyway. I have to make a couple of stops on the way home.”

  I pointed behind me. “I just need to run to the bathroom first.” I escaped quickly and doused my face with water. What had almost just happened? I looked around for a towel, but didn’t see any. I let out a slow breath. Really? No towel? I seemed to remember Austin being charged with getting towels for the beach. I’d bet he’d grabbed every single one already in the bathroom.

  I grabbed the next best thing—toilet paper—and blotted my face. At least it was dry now.

  But when I looked in the mirror, I looked like an adolescent shaving for the first time. I pulled off white chunks of paper from my cheeks and chin. Great. Maybe I should go right to the loony bin where I could be known as Two Ply. Wouldn’t Candy love that nickname?

  After plucking off the gooey pieces of TP, I stepped outside. I’d tell them a quick good-bye and then I’d retreat to the truck to give them some privacy. I hoped Sunni’s parents didn’t resent me being here. My own former in-laws hadn’t spoken to me in at least a year. I’d never truly felt accepted by them anyway, especially his mom. No one could ever be good enough for her little boy. Her last words to me were, “You should be ashamed of yourself.” I’d held it together at the moment but as soon as I got into my car, I’d let the tears flow. Life could be so ugly sometimes.