“I hope you know what you’re doing, Grayson, I really do. You’re headed to Nebraska next week.”
“The landfill,” I groan, referring to a golf course that actually was a garbage landfill at one time. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall town that created the golf course to try and get tourism started and save the town’s economy. There’s one fast food restaurant and two hotels, and those are mom-and-pop owned. I hate the place. I have golfed there before when I was earning my stripes. What-the-fuck-ever. It’s tournament time and it’s time to prove to all of them that I have what it takes to do nothing but win. Maybe Nebraska is exactly what I need to get over Claudia Cooper.
Even as I say it, I know the hope for that is slim to none.
Adrenaline and anger kept me going for the first half of the trip. The second half of the trip was motivated by constant phone conversations with Mer and memories of Cammie calling Gray her fiancé. Now that I’m riding in a taxi to Gray’s mom’s house, there’s nothing to keep me from running. That fact just gets clearer when the cabbie tells me that he won’t drive me up the driveway, but instead stops the car at the end of the main road. When I ask him why, he gives me some kind of vague explanation about a crazy woman shooting at his car because the yellow color scared her pet cow. If I wasn’t so nervous and busy second-guessing myself, I would have demanded more of the story.
“Fine, but stay here and wait for me. This won’t take long.”
“Lady, that woman is nuts. I’m not waiting around for her to fill my car full of buckshot,” the cabbie argues.
“Fifteen minutes. You can wait that long, right? I’ll pay you double,” I bargain, wondering if I shouldn’t just turn around. What is really the point of all of this?
“Ten minutes, tops. And I want to be paid first.”
“No way. I pay you and you’ll leave the minute I get out of this car.”
“Lady, I want my money.”
“What if I pay you half now, and then I’ll pay…”
“What is going on in here? You just going to sit at the end of my driveway all damn day? You’re about to give my baby a heart attack.”
I look up and there’s a lady with my car door open. She’s beautiful. She looks around forty, forty-five. She has soft brown hair that falls around her face in a shaggy bob, and she has green eyes that look just like Gray’s. This woman has to be Grayson’s mother. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to meet her. I’m confused, wondering why I’m giving her a heart attack until I realize she’s looking at the driver.
“I’m leaving, Ida Sue. I’m just trying to get this woman out of my cab.”
“You can’t leave! I need you wait until I do what I came here to do!” I plead.
“What is it you came here to do?” Gray’s mom asks.
I feel my stomach knot up. “I need to talk to Grayson.”
“And why’s that?”
“That’s something I really should discuss with Grayson alone,” I tell her, even though I immediately want to apologize for being snippy.
“You’re Claudia,” she says, appraising me, and I do my best not to squirm.
“CC,” I correct her.
“You definitely have more meat on you than that other girl.”
“Did you just call me fat?” She doesn’t answer. She grabs the overnight bag beside me and drags it toward her. I grab it to stop her and she looks at me.
“You don’t want to get out without your stuff? Heaven knows what this idiot would do with it.”
“Listen, Ida Sue…” the cabbie starts.
“I’m not staying,” I argue with her.
“Then don’t.” She shrugs. “But you came a long way to chicken out.”
“I’m not chickening out,” I totally lie.
“So you were just… what? Shooting the breeze in the cab? We eat dinner in an hour and I’ve got a roast that needs my attention, so are you getting out, or staying in?”
“Lady!” The cabbie growls, but I ignore him. Instead, I’m looking at the challenge shining in Grayson’s mom’s eyes. I toss money at the cabbie, secretly enjoying how the money falls apart and scatters over the front of the seat. He’s annoying. Then, I give up my overnight bag to Grayson’s mom and, once she’s standing outside, I slide out and follow her. We don’t talk as we walk up the driveway and I feel weird. I feel like I should come up with something to say, but for the life of me I can’t think of anything. Instead, I take in the large white farmhouse, the chickens running free, the three cats lying lazily on the front porch. It’s all completely different from anything I could have pictured Grayson growing up in, even after all his tales about his family. The strangest thing is watching a baby cow waddle over to the woman and wait for her to pet him. Wow.
“Did you really name your sons after crayons?” I blurt out.