I do pick up a little extra just in case. That’s another rule about town gossip—if more than one person gives you the same information, even in different ways, it’s more likely to be true. Since they both mentioned the bad weather, I take their advice and stock up on a couple things. Last thing I want to do is drag my ass all the way back here because I didn’t get enough to last through a few days of snow.
Setting my things on the counter, Shonda appears behind it. “You’re working up here too?”
She shrugs. “Mary called in sick so I’m handling everything today.” While she’s ringing up my groceries she keeps talking. “I hear Carley is a lawyer too now, and she’s coming back to help Elgin. She’s going to take on that Dollar General that’s taking our business. And I’m glad you’ve got enough for a few days. There’s going to be a whiteout blizzard. I can feel it coming.”
I blink, trying to process the sheer amount of information that she just threw at me. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.”
I have no doubt that most, if not all, of what I heard just now wasn’t true. But going by the rules of gossip, one thing is confirmed: Carley Farrell was back in town. Funny that I was just thinking about her.
Mr. Doubleday’s house is just down the road, and I pull up only a couple minutes after leaving the store. The air is brisk and cold, with something in the air that could mean a storm. We’ll see how bad it gets.
I grab the bundles of firewood out of the bed of my truck and haul them up to the porch one by one. I’m almost done when the door opens. “Thought I heard you out here,” the older man says. “Thank you so much for bringing it all the way out here. I’m much obliged.”
“Mr. Doubleday, you’re paying me for the delivery. You don’t have to be obliged.” I chuckle. He says that he is every time though. Just another small town routine like my treats with Darlene and Jemma.
“I’ll get that money to you as soon as the social security check comes in. You know how it is.”
I nod. “I know you’re good for it.” Heading back to the truck, I grab another bundle of wood—more than I’m meant to deliver. The little house Mr. Doubleday lives in isn’t the sturdiest thing I’ve ever seen. It holds, but it could use a little love. I’ve done what I can without pushing the limits of what he considers charity. But if there is a storm coming in soon, he might need more wood.
“This isn’t the best wood,” I tell him. “It’ll burn fast, and there’s a storm coming in. Everyone is talking about it. So I’m giving you an extra bundle—no charge, and I won’t take no for an answer.”
He makes a face at me. “Fine. I did hear about that cold snap coming in. Heard that there might be some sleet. Always makes the house a little colder.”
I stack the wood where he’ll have easy access to it. “You want me to bring this inside so that it doesn’t get wet with the storm?”
He considers for a moment. “If you won’t mind, I think that would be good.” I stop him before he can reach for one of the bundles himself, and he scowls at me. “I’m old, Casey, I’m not an invalid.”
I just grin as I push through the door. “Never said you were, Mr. Doubleday.”
“Say,” he calls after me, “you live over by the Farrell Farm, right?”
“Sure do,” I say, glad that I’m facing away from him so that I can roll my eyes.
“Well you’ll never guess who’s back in town.”
Taking a deep breath, I head back outside for the rest of the wood, listening to Mr. Doubleday start the gossip train all over again.
3
Carley
I wake to the sound of running footsteps. Lots of screaming about the fact that it snowed, it’s time for sledding, and the slamming of doors, drawers, and suitcases as all the kids in the house race to see who can get ready to go outside the fastest.
I remember when I was that age and all I wanted to do was get outside and play in the insane amounts of snow that freak Tennessee storms dump on us. But right now all I want to do is go back to sleep.
Not that that would be easy. My neck is already stiff from sleeping on this bed. The thin and lumpy twin mattress is a hand-me-down that my mother seemed determined never to get rid of. I’m not sure why. It is her not subtle punishment for the way I spoke to her at the airport and the fact that I ignored her for the rest of the car ride home.
Normally this would be the kids’ room. A rite of passage that every child and visiting family member has to go through. But since Mom is mad at me, and I’ decided to show up to Christmas alone, the kids are staying in the nice guest room next to my sister Jessica and her husband Rhett. After all, why should one person have a giant bed all to herself when there are two people who need it? That, and the kids ‘could be closer to their parents in case they need something.
As if the room I am in isn’t just ten feet further down the hallway.
No, this is my mother’s revenge. Pure and simple revenge for not doing what she thinks I should do: sucking it up and staying with a cheater, no matter what that costs me personally.
Dragging myself up off the bed, I sigh, rolling my neck to try to get out the kinks. I’m sure that I’ll get used to it after a couple days, but man, it’s uncomfortable. I pull up the shade and look outside. Sure enough, it did snow. But it’s a Tennessee snow. It’ll probably melt by tonight and refreeze into ice by morning. Which is why the kids were rushing to get to it while it’s still fun to play in.
I laugh to myself, wishing them luck It will probably be more mud than snow in a couple of hours. For the adults, the roads will be hell both today and tomorrow.
Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I dig through my suitcase for some clothes. If the kids are up that means the rest of the house is up, and I’m not about to give my mother more ammunition by sleeping late. That’s the last thing I need.
My phone chimes. I ignore the sound because I know it’s Tyler. That’s his text tone, and I have less than zero interest in anything that he has to say right now. He probably spent last night at Andi’s house, fucking her silly.
I dismiss the notification and turn off the sound on my phone. That will fix the problem. After another moment of thinking, I toss my phone into my bag and leave it there. The only person that will call me on it now that I’m here is Tyler, and I’m not going to answer it anyway.
My mom and sister are in the kitchen when I go downstairs, prepping breakfast for everyone. The big Farrell family breakfasts are a staple of Christmas vacation. They’re expected. My mom spots me. “There you are, thought you would sleep all morning.”
Glancing at the clock, it’s only eight in the morning. I take a deep breath. Clearly she’s still pissed. That’s fine. I’m still pissed at her too. “What are we making?”
“Pancakes,” Jessica says. “Fruit salad, bacon, sausage. The works, since it’s the first day that everyone is together.”
My mother snorts under her breath.
Jessica looks at me cautiously. “We’ll get it done while the menfolk are outside making sure the kids don’t kill each other.”
“What do you need me to do?”
She nods to a couple of melons on the sideboard. “Cut those up for a start.”
“I can do that.”
We work in silence for a couple of minutes, but honestly, I know that it’s only a matter of time before the questions come. And then the lectures.
“So, this wasn’t exactly the plan, huh?” Jessica asks when I’m halfway through chopping up the cantaloupe.
“No,” I say. “It wasn’t.”
Mom clears her throat. “Not too late to change those plans.”
I sigh. “Yes, Mom, it is.”
“Okay,” Jessica says, sensing the tension rising. “Can you just start with telling me what the hell happened?”
“Sure,” I shrug. “I thought—expected—that Mom would have told you, but it turns out she hasn’t been forthcoming about what happened.”
I fill her in quickly about exactly what
happened, and why Tyler isn’t with me. To her credit, Jessica actually looks shocked and expresses more normal emotions than my mother.
“So,” I finish, “Tyler will not be a part of my life going forward. And that is the end of the story.”
Jessica nods like she understands. “See, this is why we told you that it was a bad idea to move in with him before you guys got married. This is what happens. You know what they say: why buy the cow when he can get the milk for free? Tyler went looking for milk that wasn’t free.”
So much for Jessica being more understanding. She’s used that line before, and every time she does it makes me cringe a little inside. Like somehow I’m dirty for doing what most modern couples do now. Jessica doesn’t really have any room to talk—she wasn’t a saint when we were growing up. If anything, she did and got away with more shit than I did.
My mother sighs. “This will blow over, Carley. You just need to get past it and get married. Have a baby. Kids have a way of making boys into men. I’m sure Tyler will be exactly the same. I mean…look at Rhett!” She turns to Jessica. “Your sister will be the first to admit that her husband wasn’t marriage material until she made him into it. He settled down and now look at him. Model husband and father. But that never would have happened if Jessica hadn’t actually given him the chance to settle.”
I have to physically bite my tongue to keep myself from speaking. No need to bring up the fact that the only reason that Rhett and Jessica got married in the first place was the fact that she found she was pregnant. It was a classic shotgun wedding before she started showing. So yes, Rhett had settled. By force.
But I do admit that he is a good father. They have three boys now, and I love the way he is with them. He makes a good salary as the football coach at their local high school, and from my position on the outside of everything, they seem to have a happy life. And I am happy for Jessica in that.
However, the thought of intentionally trying to trap someone in a marriage by having a child or just marrying them to make them grow up doesn’t sit well with me. And the very thought of letting Tyler touch me again after what I know…it makes me nauseous.
“You’re right,” I say. “Rhett is an excellent father, and I’m happy for that. But if we found out right this moment that Rhett had been cheating on Jessica for their entire marriage and expected her to accept that and just be fine with it, would you feel the same way?”
There’s silence. Jessica’s eyes are troubled, and my mother glares at me. “That’s not the same thing, Carley. Jessica and Rhett are already married. You and Tyler or not.”
My mouth drops open. “So because we’re not married yet he’s allowed to do whatever he wants without consequences until the marriage vows are said?”
She won’t outright say yes. She can’t do that. But she shrugs. “That’s what vows are for. They’re not meant to be broken. If you don’t have those, then what do you have?”
I turn back to the fruit and start cutting it again. I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to let them try to convince me that Tyler’s infidelity is somehow my fault and not his for just being a shitty person. They get the message, and we all finish preparing breakfast in silence. When the boys, Rhett, and my dad all tumble inside ready to eat, all I feel is relief.
For a few minutes at least, everything feels a little bit normal. The classic chaos of the Christmas season and good food. Mom even gives me a smile when I make a funny comment.
But inside I still feel like I’m dying. Scraped raw. All those of years of memories that I loved are now tainted. Everything that I thought was true and good was a lie. I don’t know how to handle that. How do you put yourself together after something like this? I don’t know anyone who’s had this happen.
Or at least I don’t know anyone who will admit it.
Breakfast settles, and we clean it up. The kids run into the living room to play video games, Dad heads out to do some stuff around the property, and Mom and Jessica disappear out the door with a thin excuse about going to the store.
They don’t invite me to come along, which means the whole trip is probably going to be spent rehashing what a failure I am.
The only people here are Rhett and the boys, and the boys are screaming. Over what game to play and who gets to play what, and their father doesn’t seem to think that the noise is a problem, but I can barely hear myself think. And I feel the beginnings of a headache building behind my eyes.
So I dig out my old boots and coveralls and head out for a walk. I need to be alone with my thoughts for a bit.
I’m not sure why I don’t wear these in Chicago. It gets so cold that fleece-lined clothes should be more popular than they are, but at the same time, I can’t imagine wearing fleece coveralls and walking down a Chicago street. I probably wouldn’t get that many strange looks, but I’d feel weird.
Just thinking about being in Chicago feels a little strange right now. Now that Tyler and I aren’t together, it doesn’t feel like home. We moved there for him and his career, and we made a home there. But everything about my life there is wrapped up in him. Friends, home, everything. Where does that leave me now?
The watery winter sun is almost warm, though the air is still cold enough for me to see my breath in puffs. The world here feels pristine. Fields of untouched white snow that shimmer too brightly. In Chicago, all the snow ends up slush—watery and filled with dirt that pools in the street corners and lingers until spring.
Even though it’s already starting to melt in patches here, it’s still beautiful, and I still have that deliciously satisfying crunch under my boots. I didn’t even realize that that sound was something that I missed.
I reach the end of the drive that leads to the road, and I’m still restless. Going back to the house right now isn’t an option, and the distance between here and there wouldn’t be enough for me to take the edge off what I’m feeling right now.
So I keep going, just turning onto the road to the north and walking. This is a safe area, and everyone already knows me from when I was younger. If I run into anyone it will hardly be a problem.
Passing the edge of our property, I realize that I’m now walking alongside the Bowman farm. Casey Bowman is a name that hasn’t crossed my mind in years. But those are happy memories, and ones I could sink into without feeling like broken glass is dragging along my skin.
The last time I saw him was high school graduation. He came up to me after the ceremony when everyone had been cheering and dancing and overwhelmed with the idea that we’d done it. I remember thinking that it was strange that Casey was the only person who wasn’t smiling. For all the world, it looked like he was going to say something to me. But he never did. He shook his head, pulled me into a hug that was so tight I couldn’t breathe, and then walked away before I could ask why.
I lost him in the crowd after that. And I was mobbed with other friends and couldn’t go after him. I haven’t seen him since. Not even in the times that I’ve come back to visit.
Of course, I have other memories of Casey. A time that was far more worth remembering. That same year on the night of the fireworks. We’d stumbled into the woods together, flushed and desperate. Our clothes were in the way, but it was so cold that we didn’t dare take them off all the way. But it was enough.
Casey was my first, and though everyone has stories about awful first times, mine was amazing. It felt like our bodies were made for each other, and by some miracle, he made me see fireworks just as bright as the ones that were booming above our heads.
It was just that after…I saw the condom when he threw it away. It was broken. The same dread pools in my stomach that I felt that night. I was so afraid that I hadn’t been able to look at him after. The last thing I wanted was to be pregnant and trapped in Elgin. Forced to get married too young like Jessica, who was already married to Rhett.
And they never really left. Jess and her husband don’t live in Elgin, but they’re only twenty minutes up the highway. Crashing at my
parents’ house during the Christmas holiday is a tradition they started after their first son was born, and it never stopped. Given the number of toys and clothes I saw in my parents’ house, I have no doubt that it’s evolved into more than just Christmas.
Of course, my sister has managed to turn our parents into free childcare. But I’m sure my mom doesn’t mind. Jessica is her baby. And she loves her grandchildren.
Tears fill my eyes. I don’t want to be so cynical about my family. I love them—I really do. But it hurts to see them not support me. To think that I am somehow to blame for my entire world being dumped on my head.
They are so adamant about it, I have to ask myself if I am being too stubborn over it. Was there something I could have done better? To be more exciting for Tyler? But I’ve gone down this path of thoughts before, and there is nothing. I genuinely loved our quiet life. And until four days ago I thought that he did too.
Music tickles my ears. What is that?
Was that…the “1812 Overture?” What the hell?
I follow my ears and the music gets louder. It’s coming from the Bowman’s barn, and it is not quiet. This is the first I’ve ever heard of playing classical music for cattle, unless there’s something completely different going on.
The door to the barn is open, and covering my ears, I head inside. I am not nearly prepared for what I see.
4
Casey
Fuck, it’s hot in this barn. I know that it has to be, but the heaters worked a little overtime this morning. It’s not quite as cold as I anticipated and so I had them up too high. I’ve taken off my shirt while I work, and I’m still sweating what feels like buckets.
I’m feeding the cows while they listen to the music. Might as well. Though it’s at a volume now that’s nearly unbearable. I can still hear the damn song through ear plugs and noise cancelling earmuffs.
Big Man’s Happily Ever After Page 35
