You Shouldn't Have Come Here

I needed distance so I could try to think clearly.

I walked around Albert and closed my bedroom door behind me. I didn’t even look at Calvin. Something didn’t feel right. Between the rare mountain lion attack, the missing woman, and now this strange guest. Why wouldn’t he tell me there was another guest staying? I collapsed onto the bed, letting out a groan. I highly doubted a man like Albert would even have an Airbnb account, let alone know what it was or how to use it. Picking up my cell phone from the nightstand, I verified that I was still screwed. No service. I groaned again. In the hallway, I heard whispers, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. Why were they even whispering?

I tiptoed to the door and pressed my ear against it.

“Sorry about her. She’s just a little rattled. Mountain lion nearly attacked her earlier,” Calvin said.

“That’s terrifying. She all right?” Albert whispered back.

“She will be, I think. You can stay in this room,” Calvin said.

The door to the room next to mine creaked open. Everything in this house creaked. Boots clomped a few steps—first Calvin’s, then Albert’s. I could tell the difference between them. Albert’s steps were too heavy, like he was more stumbling than walking. Calvin’s were hard but controlled, like a slow beat on a drum.

“Thanks. I’ll be out of your hair in a few days,” Albert said.

Calvin whispered something back, but I couldn’t make it out. The door creaked again and closed. Then, there was a knock on my door. I scrambled back to the bed and took a seat looking at my red fingernails nonchalantly. The paint had chipped off on several of them.

“Come in,” I said.

The door opened, and Calvin popped his head in.

“Hey,” he said. His eyes scanned my face, evaluating if it was safe to take another step into the room. My face was unchanged though. I simply glanced over at him for a moment and then returned my attention to my chipped nails.

“I’m heading into town. You want to come with me?”

I thought for a moment, pretending to consider his offer. I didn’t want to go into town, and I didn’t want to stay in this house with Albert either. What I wanted was my car fixed.

“No,” I said.

He dropped his head a little and shuffled his feet, disappointed.

“Are we okay?” He worked up the courage to take another step toward me.

“Sure.” I turned my head, staring out the cracked window. We weren’t okay. I wasn’t okay. I should have gone with my gut feeling on day one and left. Something was off with this house, with this town, with Calvin. He took another step toward me and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You sure, Grace?”

“I’m sure.”

He scooted a little closer and rested his hand on the bed in the space between us. There was more than physical space between us now. There was distance. What added to the distance were all the uncertainties, the unanswered questions, the answers I could not or did not believe. Calvin moved his hand on top of my bare knee, and my body instantly tensed up. Last night when he touched me my skin warmed, now I felt a coldness run through me. They say love makes you blind. This wasn’t love though. This was lust, and it makes you downright stupid.

“I’m really sorry, Grace. I’m going to make this up to you. I want this to work. Us, that is. We still have a few days together. Please don’t shut me out yet.” His voice was deep yet soft. He patted my knee. “You haven’t shut me out yet, have you?”

I looked at his hand resting on my body. A shiver ran down my spine. I shook my head.

He smiled and leaned in, planting a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll be back soon.” Calvin’s eyes lingered on me while he stood. I thought he’d say more but he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

I took a deep breath. Calvin was right about one thing: we only had a few more days left, he only had a few more days left . . . and then I would leave all of this behind me.





32.

Calvin I pulled my truck into a parking spot in front of Betty’s Boutique and grabbed the empty cake pan from the passenger seat. Only a few people walked the downtown area because it was still early in the day. I exchanged greetings with them as I made my way inside.


“Hey, sweetheart. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Betty asked, standing from her seat behind the register. The store was empty, another slow day for business.

I held up the cake pan. “Just returning this,” I said, setting it down on the counter.

Betty came around and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me in for a tight hug. “How ya doing today?”

“Not great.”

She took a few steps back and looked me up and down. Her brows pinched together. “What’s wrong, Calvin?”

I ambled around the store, glancing at some of the men’s clothes. I didn’t really need anything, just needed to talk. “A mountain lion nearly attacked Grace this morning.”

Betty’s eyes widened, and her hand sprung to her mouth. “Nearly?”

I nodded. “Yep. Shot and killed the thing just as it was coming at her.”

“Oh dear,” she gasped. “Lucky you know how to shoot. Must have been quite the scare for her.”

It wasn’t the first time I’d shot an animal, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. I pulled a red-and-black flannel shirt from a stuffed rack and held it up. “Grace is real shaken up.” I put the shirt back and continued flipping through a few others.

Betty looked as though she wanted to say something but was holding back. Her mouth closed and opened and closed again.

“What?” I asked.

She waved her hand at me. “Oh, nothing.”

“Go on and say it.”

“Well, in my experience mountain lions go for easy prey, the weak. That girl don’t belong here and even nature is trying to tell you that.” She shook her head.

“That’s a strange thing to say, Betty.”

“She ain’t built for Wyoming is all I’m saying.” She raised her chin and shrugged.

“I don’t think I am either.”

“You are, Calvin. That girl has gotten in your head like brain-eating amoeba. You ain’t thinking right.”

I cocked my head. “Grace has done nothing wrong.”

I was tired of the way people were treating her, and I could see why she was acting so strange now. I’d be the same way.

“I just have a funny feeling about her,” Betty said.

“Well, maybe that funny feeling is because you haven’t filled your prescription in the last two months.”

I didn’t mean to say it. It just came out. When Betty was off her meds, she was the one not seeing things right.

Her mouth dropped open but she quickly closed it, pursing her lips into a thin line. She narrowed her eyes at me. “Who told you that?”

“That doesn’t matter. Why haven’t you been taking your pills?”

“Because I don’t need them.”

“You clearly do. You’re paranoid. First about the bees and now about Grace.”

I took a few steps toward the counter.

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