by Jaclyn Dawn
I dressed in my only pair of designer jeans, which I had found at a thrift shop in Vancouver, and my first-date top. Nathan wasn’t kidding about my being skinny. I was too skinny. These jeans were supposed to be tight. My salon highlights had grown out an inch, but time in the sun had lightened my roots and I had a natural look going for me. I wanted to look good. Why? Maybe to impress the Hayeses. Maybe to show Mike what he had lost. Maybe looking more attractive made me feel braver. But why did it take makeup, curled hair, and tight clothes? Was I more attractive this way to me because I was more attractive this way to others? Looking in the mirror, I realized that I was the same chicken I was in my rubber boots and ponytail. I was getting dressed up for the wrong reasons.
“Look at you all gussied up,” Mom said when I entered the kitchen, making me question my choices even more.
“I will stay for supper, but not a second longer. Nathan and I are going to the city tonight,” I reminded her.
She gave my shoulder a squeeze. I stirred the gravy wishing there was something more I could do to occupy my mind. Mike was on his way. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Travis with his cold shoulder or Austin with his roaming eyes, either. Did Emily hate me, too? The kids had been old enough to remember me. What had they been told about my abrupt exit from their lives?
The doorbell rang.
CHAPTER 33
EVERYONE ARRIVED AT ONCE, BUT IT HAD TAKEN TWO VEHICLES TO get them all down the road. Mom greeted the Hayeses as they filed in the door. There were a lot of shoes and coats, hugs and hair tussles. I hung back with a forced smile that I hoped passed as polite plastered on my face.
“Ray is in the dining room,” Mom said. Edith and Peter said hello as they passed. The kids gave me curious looks as they shoved one another into the living room. Travis followed, reminding them to mind their manners and ignoring me completely. Emily, however, hugged me without hesitation. There was no better word to describe her than warm. Chestnut hair and brown eyes. She had always been soft-spoken but honest. I was beyond grateful, even if I wasn’t a hugger.
“Mo-om,” Emily’s youngest son Graham called, and she was swept into the house.
Austin looked grim compared to the rest of the group, who wore colour and smiles. Even Mike smiled like the Mike my parents knew and hired, the Mike I had fallen for in high school.
Dad waited for everyone in the dining room, apologizing for not getting up. Somehow he had managed to pull on a pair of loose-fitting jeans. Unlike mine, his had been loose before he lost so much weight being in and out of the hospital; now they were almost comical. He sat at the head of the table with his leg propped on a cushioned stool, angled toward where Mom would be sitting.
Mom served a beef roast. The meal went well with lighthearted conversation about each family, Kingsley in general, and of course the weather. The plates were empty but not yet cleared when the men started talking about farming.
“So Mike, tell me again what was wrong with that calf we had penned in the barn,” Dad said. I could feel my body tense. Mom continued to look at Edith, who was talking about her arthritis, but I could tell her ears perked, too.
“It was lame. The mama must have stepped on his right hind leg,” Mike said.
“I thought you had said he wasn’t getting better, that the electrolytes and medicine weren’t helping,” Dad said.
“That, too,” Mike lied.
“With hindsight, I’m regretting not getting a second opinion,” Dad said.
The other conversations in the room faded. The air in the room had changed. Everyone looked between Mike and Dad.
“Every rancher hates to lose a calf. Isn’t that right, Peter?” Dad said at last, breaking the tension.
“Sure does,” Peter said, from the opposite end of the table. He launched into a story about a lame calf from way back. Austin slumped, disappointed that normal conversation had resumed. I sneaked a look at Mike. Dad would have said he looked like someone had stuck a bicycle tire pump where the sun don’t shine and puffed him up a bit. He wasn’t as scary after some time apart and with my parents at my side, but when my eye caught his, I looked away quickly.
“Ray is looking like the day is getting long. Maybe we should get to business,” Travis said as soon as Peter’s story ended and before Peter could start another one. Dad was indeed looking paler than when supper had started.
Mom and Emily stood at the same time to clear the supper dishes. The men would talk business, and the women would make themselves scarce cleaning the kitchen. My mom and dad weren’t the type to divide the sexes this way, but the Hayeses were. I felt disappointed in Mom for going along with it, then saw the look she and Dad exchanged. Clearing out the women and kids so Travis could talk comfortably was a decision they had made together.
“Can we play outside?” asked Graham.
“I want to play with the dogs,” said Madison.
“You have grandchildren; I have dogs,” Mom said with a laugh as she waited patiently for the older woman to get to her feet.
“Oh, did you see? Phyllis’s granddaughter is having twins!” Edith said. “Serena was a grade below Miah, wasn’t she?”
“Austin, go outside and play with your cousins,” Peter said.
“Seriously?” Austin complained. “Why do I have to go with the little kids?”
“Stealing Grandpa’s whisky from the liquor cabinet doesn’t make you a grown-up,” Peter said. That explained Austin’s mood.
“Hey! Who are you calling a little kid? I wasn’t the one scared of the steer today,” Levi said. Austin made to grab for him, but Levi easily ducked out of the way. Peter laughed harder than anyone else. Austin peeled himself from the chair and followed his giggling cousins.
“The only one who treats me right around here is Uncle Mike,” Austin said under his breath. I didn’t think anyone else had heard, but Edith squeezed his hand as he walked by. “And you, Grandma,” he said quietly. I doubted she was any consolation, but at least Austin had enough respect not to pull away from his grandma.
Emily and I washed dishes while Mom and Edith had coffee at the kitchen table. Emily asked questions about
Vancouver and school, but didn’t say that she missed me or that she wanted me to come back.
“It’s good to hear that you’re doing so well,” she said.
“Travis sure didn’t seem happy to see me the other day.”
“They’re brothers. Mike has been filling his head with all sorts of stuff about you since you left. He wasn’t mad that you left, though. He was mad that you came back,” Emily said.
“Oh,” I said, thinking that was worse.
Emily nudged me with her elbow. “Don’t get me wrong. Mike can be a great guy and we love him, but before you left, we kind of thought he wasn’t good for you. He changed you.”
I wondered what Mike had filled Travis’s head with. Travis had known me, still knew me. He shouldn’t have believed Mike, brother or not. I realized then that even if I wrote the whole truth in the Inquirer, Travis would believe what he wanted to believe. And he would likely believe Mike.
Mom sent me into the dining room with the coffee pot and a plate of cookies. I was grateful because the suspense was making my stomach hurt. I wanted to know what was going on so that I could text Nathan and get out of there. Peter pushed his coffee mug in my direction. I had intended on setting the coffee on the table for the men to serve themselves, but I obliged and filled his mug. Then Travis’s. Then Mike’s.
“We need to shop around,” Mike said as I worked my way around the table.
“These are more than fair prices on par with what Travis and I had discussed before cattle prices went up again,” Dad said. “Any reason for the sudden change of heart?”
Dad seemed stiff, but I couldn’t tell if he was frustrated with Mike or in pain. Maybe both. I filled up Dad’s mug. He was the only one who thanked me.
“Maybe joining the herds sooner is better,” Travis said, rubbing his chin. “We’re pretty
well set up for the expansion, with just the barn to finish up while the cattle are at pasture. That’ll go quicker with Mike around now that the spraying here is done.”
Peter didn’t seem to be participating in the conversation much. He was there as a figurehead. His boys had been running the farm since his stroke.
“I don’t mean to put pressure on you, Travis. I thought we’d meet to discuss it as neighbours. I will be able to manage combining, but with my leg as it is, ranching is too demanding. My other option is going to auction,” Dad said. I doubted his doctors would agree about the combining, but I kept my mouth shut. “Judith and I are ready to sell the herd one way or another, and Miah wants to be a teacher, not a farmer. We don’t want to be holding her here when she has a dream to chase.”
Mike opened his mouth, but Travis lifted a couple fingers off the table as a signal to stop.
“No, no, I respect your having us here,” Travis said.
“You boys are ambitious taking on nearly four hundred head. I had my hands full with half that,” Dad said.
“If anyone can handle it, my boys can,” Peter said. Dad nodded.
“Thanks, Ray. I will talk with Dad and my brother, but I think it’s safe to start drawing up the paperwork. You’re selling at a good time, and we can’t complain. There’s money to be had all around.”
Feeling relieved, I made my exit. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Nathan as soon as I was out of the dining room.
CHAPTER 34
WALK, WALK, WALK, I TOLD MYSELF AS I CROSSED THE PORCH AND descended the stairs. The Jeep was parked in the driveway with the engine running, Nathan at the wheel and Danika riding shotgun. I could hardly believe it. Screw it, run!
My smile couldn’t get any bigger. Slightly out of breath, I yanked open the back door. I was even more surprised to find Alek scrunched in the tiny back seat.
“Did it go well?” Nathan teased.
“Yes. Let’s get out of here before we jinx it.” I slid in beside Alek.
“What are you guys doing here?” I was happy, mostly. Just a bit apprehensive. Was I going to get library Danika or Canada Day fireworks Danika? And had Alek come willingly this time?
“You’d better start driving before Mike sees us or I change my mind,” Danika said. “I already miss my baby.”
“So, where are the kids?” I asked.
“They have a father, you know.”
I was impressed—and recalled that I had been impressed when Benton was a baby, too. A lot of guys we used to hang out with wouldn’t have taken care of a toddler, let alone a baby, father or not.
“He works at the refinery tomorrow, though, so I have to be up with them no matter how awful early.”
“That’s right, you have to be up with them,” Alek said, picking up on a conversation I wasn’t a part of. Nathan started laughing, so it must have been part of the conversation that got them in the vehicle on the way to Edmonton with me.
“No,” Danika said, “if Benton wakes up before Abby, I’m sending him your way.”
“Poor Abby. I’d take my wingman over dealing with you hungover any day,” he said. She turned and stuck her tongue out at him. They were closer now, I realized, with the differences of their youth behind them. I suspected the catalyst had been Danika’s kids.
“What time does RC leave for work?” Nathan asked.
“Five a.m.,” Danika said with a groan.
“Five o’clock curfew!” Nathan cheered and pumped his arm in the air. We all laughed.
“So you met RC?” I asked Nathan, curious how that went. RC, after all, was Mike’s best friend, and none of Nathan and Mike’s interactions would have encouraged me to show up at the fairy tale house.
“RC’s never met anyone like Nathan.” Danika giggled. “My husband doesn’t do ‘different.’ It’s why I never get to go to the theatre or try foreign foods, but at least I don’t have to worry about him leaving me, right?”
“He made it about two minutes of awkward silence before turning up the TV,” Alek said dryly. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t get much more.”
“He’s too funny,” Danika said.
“More like rude,” I muttered, my earlier fondness dampened. I squeezed Nathan’s shoulder from the back seat, and he gave me an appreciative, lopsided smile in the rear-view mirror. I didn’t mean to think of the Inquirer, but a potential headline popped into my head (Phobics: They Don’t Do Different). It might have seemed perfect at one time, except I remembered Nathan’s jokes about small-town living not so long ago (When Stereotypers Become Stereotypees). The Inquirer just didn’t have the capacity to explore this topic properly.
“Earth to Miah,” Danika said, interrupting my thoughts. She and Alek were both grinning at me.
“Hm?”
“I was just telling them about your eighteenth birthday, remember?”
Now that was a fun night.
“My Amiah rode the mechanical bull?” Nathan asked, encouraging Danika to go into detail about my “epic ride” and “cheering fans.” Alek subtly shifted his knee so it pressed against mine. This was going to be a fun night, too.
After the minor issue of finding parking on a Saturday night, we stepped onto Whyte Avenue. A lively mosaic of bars, restaurants, and shops pressed together on either side. Our strange mix—Alek, Danika, Nathan, and I—wasn’t so strange there. While passing a cowboy looking ready for the Calgary Stampede, we saw an elaborately tattooed woman wearing a live snake around her neck. There was no Mike, no Inquirer, no drama.
The days were long in the summer, so we started on the patio of a Mexican restaurant to enjoy the lingering sun. The other three ordered bulldogs, Coronas upturned in oversized slush margaritas. I volunteered to be the designated driver and helped myself to most of the shared nachos. Mom’s beef roasts were always delicious, but I hadn’t eaten much at dinner. This was the first time I had felt hungry in a long time.
We then made our way to an Irish pub, a sports lounge, a basement bar, a rooftop bar, and eventually a country saloon because Danika insisted that she needed to teach Nathan how to two-step.
By this time neither teacher nor student was sober. Amused, Alek and I watched from tall bar stools at a small table pressed against the railing surrounding the sunken dance floor. When the music shifted and they attempted the boot-scootin’ boogie line dance, a man in worse condition than anyone else on the dance floor bumped into our table.
“This guy not know how to dance?” he asked, gesturing with his thumb toward Alek and eyeing me. It was an invitation, though not a very inviting one. The man was about thirty and no stranger to the gym, or at least some sort of upper-body labour. His aggressiveness and the smell of whisky made me freeze up. I managed an awkward shrug.
“Can’t he talk neither? Some date,” he said, now looking challengingly at Alek. Alek seemed unconcerned. Over his shoulder I saw two Saloon Security, their thumbs hitched in their belts and their eyes already trained on us. Neither looked as fit as my admirer, but they were sober and they had strength in numbers. Their walkie-talkies would quickly bring in reinforcements, if needed. I had seen it happen before.
“Didn’t know you were talking to me,” Alek said. “Besides, Miah can handle herself.” He drank the last few swallows of his beer and stood. I worried he was going to leave me with this man the way he had with Mike at the fireworks. The string of line dances had ended, and aside from a few clusters of girls dancing together, the dancers were pairing off again. “But you make a good point. Miah, would you like to dance with me?”
On the drive back to Kingsley, Alek sat up front with me.
“I didn’t expect you of all people to be able to two-step.”
“Why me ‘of all people’?”
“Country music, for one.”
“The old stuff isn’t all bad. Grandpa Leo always said I needed to know how to dance in order to court a young lady properly,” Alek said, the corners of his mouth twitching as they did when he was amused.
“Besides, it was a mandatory part of grade eight phys ed. Did you skip those classes? That would explain my bruised left foot.”
“I must have. Are you offering lessons?” I peeked with my peripheral vision to confirm that he was looking at me the way he had been on the dance floor where we had gotten lost until last call.
“Ew,” Danika interrupted. I blushed. I hadn’t realized she was still awake. I glanced in the rear-view mirror. She was still eating take-out French fries behind me. Nathan had passed out with a half-eaten cheeseburger in his hand. “You two are actually cute together. It’s disturbing.”
CHAPTER 35
From: Concerned Citizen ([email protected])
Sent: July 20, 2015 6:23:51 p.m.
To: Kingsley Inquirer ([email protected])
Subject: Update
Anything yet?
From: Kingsley Inquirer ([email protected])
Sent: July 20, 2015 8:01:21 p.m.
To: Concerned Citizen ([email protected])
Subject: RE: Update
I have attached the five relevant emails so far. Three suggest Mike is responsible but have no supporting evidence. One offers car detailing services from one of our regular advertisers. And one is a gag claiming the missing garden gnomes spray-painted Alek’s car. We can send you relevant emails as they arrive, but the contributions box at Kingsley
Grocery isn’t picked up until Friday.
From: Concerned Citizen ([email protected])
Sent: July 20, 2015 8:30:47 p.m.
To: Kingsley Inquirer ([email protected])
Subject: RE: Update
Not soon enough. I’ll give you until Wednesday. If it’s a problem, I will pick them up.
From: Kingsley Inquirer ([email protected])
Sent: July 20, 2015 8:36:04 p.m.