He put his hat back on and laid the flowers on the ground next to his chair.
“Petty, I wanted to tell you how this all came about. This will and everything. I take it your dad never mentioned the . . . our . . . his will to you.”
Why would he include me in my wedding plans?
“I met your dad about ten years ago at the Quivera Gun Club in Salina, though we’d been neighbors for eight years. Anyway, he’s—-was kinda like you, not real talkative, you know, but a serious, right--minded guy.” Randy coughed. “You understand what I mean by right--minded?”
I shrugged.
“A Second Amendment kind of guy. I was the one who sponsored his membership to the Kansas State Militia.”
I didn’t care.
He squinted up at me. “Would you mind sitting down? I admire your defensive posture, but I’m not the enemy.”
But he was.
Although marrying Randy would be the path of least resistance, the dreams I’d had for myself would die with Dad. When I thought about going out into the world alone, the fear nearly convinced me to go along with his wishes.
Almost, but not quite.
Because something just beyond my reach was coming into focus. What was Dad’s goal for this arrangement? To keep me caged. And what did that make me? Livestock.
That kind of thinking was not normal. That was not how a father was supposed to think of his daughter. Didn’t that prove Dad had no idea what was right for me? And if he was wrong about that . . . maybe he was wrong about how dangerous the world was too.
Maybe he was wrong that I couldn’t navigate the world on my own.
This idea exploded in my brain and showered sparks, lighting everything up, and I knew Randy was wrong too. He was the enemy. He was the one standing in the way of my freedom.
I stood there a moment longer, then moved the other chair farther away from him and sat down, laying the shotgun across my knees.
“Thanks,” he said, rubbing his neck. “I was getting a crick looking up at you.” He smiled at me. At least, I think he did. It was hard to tell with that mustache in the way.
I didn’t smile back.
“So anyway, when you turned eighteen, your dad told me about his plans for you. I didn’t think too much about it, because he wasn’t an old guy by any means. But I agreed, because he was absolutely set on making sure you were taken care of for the rest of your life. I want you to know, though, he didn’t say nothing about the insurance policy.”
I spat on the ground.
“Cross my heart,” he said, actually drawing an X on his chest with his finger. “I was as shocked as you. But that’s how serious Charlie was about protecting you, and he knew I had the same values as him.” He cleared his throat again and gazed up at the sky. “All this to say I don’t expect it to be your typical marriage. It would be a straight--up business deal. I house you, clothe you and feed you, and I control the money. But I’ll buy you anything you want. We could even build a house that has two sides to it—-one for you and one for me. Of course, your side would have to be locked up, but you’re used to that.”
I was used to that. It was familiar and safe and easy. But it wasn’t normal.
So Dad and Randy had planned everything out for me. Years ago. I still wouldn’t have any say in my own life. I was going to be a militia man’s “wife,” and that was all.
I stood. “I have to go to work.”
Randy didn’t move, just gazed up at me from under his Stetson. “No you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” I said, gripping the rifle.
Randy dug a cell phone out of his pocket and held it out to me. “No, you don’t. Ask Dooley. He’ll tell you all about it.”
I didn’t understand what he was telling me, so I didn’t answer, just stood there staring. He opened the phone and pushed some buttons then held it out to me again. I felt a chill of fear, as if he were handing me a live grenade. I heard a voice coming out of the phone but still I didn’t take it. Randy frowned and held it to his ear.
“Hey, Dooley, it’s Randy. You need to tell Petty about her job.” He held the phone out again. This time I took it and put it to my ear.
“Petty?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I’m glad Randy called, because I need to go over a few pieces of business with you. Your situation is fairly complex. I certainly hope you appreciate everything I’m doing on your behalf, young lady!”
I kind of got the feeling he was expecting me to thank him, but I said, “I don’t have time to talk right now. I’ve got to get to work.”
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’ve called your boss to let him know.”
“Let him know what?” My blood felt cold inside me. Randy appeared to be smiling underneath his mustache.
“That you’re no longer a dump employee. Randy went and got your things—-he’s probably got them with him right now.”
“But I don’t want to—-”
“And if you need a ride anywhere, Randy said he’d give it to you. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”
“I don’t want to quit working. And I don’t want any rides from Randy.”