You Shouldn't Have Come Here

Betty folded her arms in front of her chest. “I think you should take a hard look in the mirror, Calvin. She’s changing you. You’re smarter than this, so don’t go losing your head for some girl.”

“She’s not just some girl,” I scoffed.

Betty shook her head like a parent who’d been disappointed by their child. “After she leaves, you’ll start seeing things a little more clearly.”

“She’s not leaving. I want her to stay.”

“Oh, Calvin.” She placed a hand on each of my cheeks and pulled me in, planting a kiss on the top of my head like she used to do when I was a young boy. “You’re a fool. You’re a damn fool.”

If she only knew. I pulled away, letting her hands fall to her sides. She frowned at me.

“I really hope you start taking your medication again. You know what happens when you don’t.”

She twisted up her lips and started straightening up random things around the store, busying herself. “Sheriff stopped in today, asking about you and a missing woman.”

I let out a sigh. “Yeah, he stopped over at the ranch earlier and a few days ago too. What did you tell him?”

“That I’ve never seen that woman.” Betty straightened a row of cowboy boots, ensuring each was in line.

“What did he ask about me?” I raised my chin, my eyes following her as she moseyed around the store.

“Just wanted to know more about you and the ranch. Apparently, this girl was supposed to stay with you for a few days.”

“Yeah, and I told him she never showed up.” I felt my jaw tighten. Betty wouldn’t even look at me. I couldn’t tell if it was because she couldn’t or she wouldn’t, and there was a difference.

“Him coming around is going to screw things up with Grace.”

“I think that’s the least of your worries. In three days, Calvin, you better let that girl leave.” Betty didn’t look at me or say another word. She just walked to the back of the store and disappeared into the storage room.





33.

Grace


From a backbend, I went into a downward-facing dog pose. The sun felt good on my skin, and it made the coldness running through me a little warmer. I was out front on a yoga mat, trying to relax and not think about how much had gone wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I hadn’t seen Albert since we were introduced earlier, but I knew he was around here because his station wagon sat alongside the driveway. I glanced around the pond area, the porch, beside the house, toward the barn, trying to pinpoint where he was. He was somewhere watching me. I could feel it. After several deep breaths, I lifted myself into a handstand position. My breathing slowed as I held myself up and closed my eyes, trying to picture nothing, only listening to the sounds of nature.

When I opened my eyes, I came tumbling down. Sitting about twenty yards from me was Albert. He drank from a small bottle of Jack Daniel’s, watching me. Rather early in the day for Jack. The corner of his mouth perked up. Creepy old man. I closed my eyes and went back into a handstand, attempting to forget about Albert and his lingering eyes.

“You’re really bendy,” he said.

My eyes shot open, and I tumbled over again. Albert stood a few feet away from me. How had I not heard him? He wasn’t graceful, and he was rather large—but perhaps like that mountain lion, he could be quiet when he needed to be.

“I think the word you’re looking for is flexible.” I stood up from my yoga mat and pinned my shoulders back.

He took a swig, and his eyes scanned over me.

“Can I help you with something?” I jutted out my hip and threw a hand on it.

“Nope, just taking in the view.” His thin, crusty lips turned into a grin.

I rolled up my yoga mat and tucked it under my arm. “Enjoy your view,” I said sarcastically as I stormed into the house.

What started out as an enjoyable and relaxing vacation seven days ago had turned into a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. In the living room, I walked to the bookshelf Calvin had pointed out on the day I arrived. He said he loved to read, but I realized I hadn’t seen him pick up a book once in the past week. My fingers ran along the spines. They were all classics, the ones you were forced to read in a literature class, not at all what I thought Calvin would be into. I slid one out and fanned through the pages. A piece of paper fell to the floor. I bent down and picked it up. It was a receipt from a bookstore dated two days before I arrived. The total at the bottom was over five hundred dollars. And every book on the shelf was listed on it.

An engine outside sputtered. I shoved the book back into its place and peered out the window. Albert’s station wagon crept slowly down the driveway. I let out a sigh, and my eyes flicked back to the bookshelf. It was all a lie, like Calvin had designed a set for my arrival.



I could see nearly the whole ranch plus the road I had driven in on from the porch. It felt like the safest place on the ranch, so I took a seat with a beer and one of Calvin’s “favorite” books. I tried to concentrate on reading but the words jumbled together on the page, swirling around. I couldn’t focus. My eyes kept going back to the road and then my broken-down car parked off in the grass. How was I going to get out of here?

Tires crunched over gravel. It was either Calvin or Albert, but I didn’t look up and continued to pretend to read instead. I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

I flipped the page. The car shut off. A car door slammed. Footsteps padded up the porch stairs. They weren’t Calvin’s though or Albert’s. They were lighter.

“Calvin here?” Charlotte asked. She sounded drunk, and I knew she was looking for trouble. “I didn’t see his truck.”

“No,” I said.

“Good, I wanted to talk to you.” She stumbled toward me, plopping down in a rocking chair.

It creaked every time she rocked back.

“Calvin didn’t tell you about us, did he?” She raised one of her thick dark eyebrows.

I didn’t say anything. I just looked at her, waiting for her to spill whatever it was she wanted to spill. Charlotte’s eyes were bloodshot and her lipstick was partially smeared.

“He and I slept together about a month ago. I thought you’d want to know,” she said, and then she stared at me, waiting for a reaction.

I grabbed the beer from the table and took a long swig. It wasn’t a surprise to me. I figured something happened between them. It was obvious and explained why she’d been so cold and territorial. I didn’t care that they had slept together. I just wanted her gone.

“Calvin told me he didn’t want you coming around anymore,” I said.

She clenched her jaw, moving it side to side.

“When did he say that?” Charlotte raised her chin. She tried to relax her face, but there was so much tension in it. It was like she was going to explode depending on what came out of my mouth.

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