“They’re coming, aren’t they…” her voice trailed away.
“No, they’re not comin’. Like I said, my old man’s gonna take care o’ things an’ we’ll be fine. We do what we gotta do here, an’ then we go home.”
“I’m not going back there,” she shook her head slightly, “I was lucky to get away the first time; no way in hell am I going to give them another chance to finish me.”
He nodded slowly, his head making more of a circle like a bobble-headed doll, “Ok.” He met her glare for a moment, his distorted features stretched and exhausted. “Don’t worry about th’ stuff I don’t tell you. I’m jus’ keepin’ it safe for you until you’re ready to know it.”
Standing, he offered her his hand, and she allowed him to pull her up. Squeezing by him, she moved to the lavatory to wash her face. Staring at herself in the mirror, she realized how odd her own face appeared, giving herself a grimace. Finished with her primping, she knew he was right, and the pair needed to stock up for their stay.
“Let’s go to Wal-Mart,” she suggested when they exited the apartment. “They have everything all at one location, so we won’t be running all over town.”
“Ok,” he agreed, “But it’ll be packed; it always is.”
“I don’t care,” she retorted. “Let’s just get it done.” Stomping down the stairs, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and climbed onto the seat behind him.
Arriving out front of the supercenter a few minutes later, they made their way inside. Selecting a cart, they walked straight through to the linens that could be found on the back wall. “Pete’s bed is a king,” she supplied, looking through the bedding. “What pattern do you want?”
“Cheap,” he replied crisply. “What they look like don’ matter.”
Finding a clearance set of sheets and a comforter, she dropped them into the basket. Choosing a twin set for herself, she frowned that they didn’t match, but tossed them in as well. Steering the cart, they followed the outer wall to the food end of the layout, picking up milk and butter spread, then eggs. Turning right at the corner, they selected lunch meats and cheeses.
Pushing into the section of meats, the crowd grew thicker, and Bailey had to wait before she could move any further. Standing still, she cast her eyes over the throng of people, her pulse becoming louder in her ears.
Her fingers tingling, she adjusted her grip on the blue plastic handle. Inhaling deeply, she pushed the air out through pursed lips; the sound of the people seemed to crush in around her, and for a moment she felt faint.
Moving in so that his chest brushed against her right shoulder, Caleb ran his hand down her spine, his fingers firmly making contact. “Relax, little bit. We got plenty o’ time.”
Growing stiff at his touch, she continued to breathe, until a small path had cleared and she could move forward. Gathering a package of steaks and a larger tray of chicken breasts with trembling digits, she mumbled, “We need bags for dividing, so we can freeze this in smaller sections.”
“Good plan,” he smiled at her choices. “I’ll get ‘em an’ meet you at the end, by th’ bread.” He darted between the traffic jam and headed for the correct aisle.
Continuing alone, Bailey collected a variety of fruits and fresh vegetables, then swung around to find Caleb waiting for her, a whole wheat loaf in hand. The sight of it jolted her, and her gaze returned to her selections, her eyes slowly roving over the ears of fresh corn and bundle of carrots. “Wow, I didn’t even realize – ” a buggy crashed into her and interrupted her train of thought.
Dropping his collection of flour, sugar, bags and bread into the basket, Caleb caught the corner and spun it around, steering it towards the check out, “Le’s get outta here!”
“No argument from me,” she agreed, fairly certain they had forgotten something, but unwilling to remain in the cramped space any longer. Standing in line, they waited only semi-patiently, and a child in the seat ahead of them began to wail loudly.
Turning her back to the toddler, Bailey stood facing her roommate, her eyes boring into his Adam’s apple, only inches from her nose. Hearing the loud hacking cough of an old woman in the line next to them, her eyes cut over to take in the smaller, hunched figured, her wrinkled palm only partially blocking the spasm. Shuffling ever so slightly closer to the man before her, she allowed her eyes to close.
Caleb raised his hand, laying it lightly on her hip, then applying firm pressure for reassurance. Lifting his chin, he rested it on the hairline above her forehead. He could feel the tension of her body, aware that the crowd around them had put her on edge. Holding his own respirations under control, he focused on her, telepathically encouraging her to remain calm.
A few minutes later, they moved to the counter and began placing their items on the conveyor. Pulling their bags off the other end, they pushed the cart out to the motorcycle, where they stuffed her comforter, and all of the sheets into the left saddlebag. The food items went into the right, and he strapped his oversized blanket onto the back.
Wiggling into their seats, she clung to him on the ride home, grateful for the fresh air and sunshine that surrounded them. Her fingers laying against his broad chest and her right cheek pressed into his back, she could feel her pulse returning to normal. When they made the last turn, she smiled, suddenly aware of what they had forgotten; new makeup.
Fruits of Our Labor
Climbing the stairs, their arms laden with parcels, the couple maintained a relaxed quiet; each of them relieved to be out of the crowded store. Opening the door, Caleb began to add to their list of chores, “We have t’ get a few things done, but I guess some of it can wait ‘til tomorrow.”
“Yes,” she agreed quietly, a little less bitter towards the man next to her, “We have to get our jobs back for one. Mine’s easy though; I can walk over in a few minutes and take care of that.” Her mind recalling the small shop next door to her employer, she continued, “And, I can pick up another phone while I’m there, if you wouldn’t mind fronting me the money.”
Caleb grinned, carrying his new bedding towards the back of the house, and happy that she seemed to be over her fit of anger. “I can give you some,” he called over his shoulder, “We’re gonna need it, so the sooner you get it the better.” Dropping his items on the floor, he opened his wallet to pull out two one-hundred dollar bills. He offered them to her when she came down the hall, “Is that enough?”
“Should be,” she pinched them between an index finger and thumb, “I’ll pay you back as soon as I get paid.”
“No you won’t,” he raised his chin as a challenge, “We’re in this together, so it all comes out the same.” Dropping the subject, he turned to put his bed together, “Go make us some dinner, an’ I’ll take care o’ this part.”
In silent agreement, Bailey returned to the small kitchen, dividing up the meats into a few smaller packages and placing all but two steaks into the freezer. Taking out pans, she prepared their meal, her mind returning to the small town in the middle of nowhere. I hope the boys are ok.
As soon as the beds were in order, Caleb returned to the front of the house, taking a chair at the table to watch. The evening sun filtering through cracks in the vertical blinds behind him, he admired the view of the kitchen, “Sure beats frozen lasagna, don’t ya think?” he commented as she set his plate before him.
Only nodding, she took her seat. The food had turned out perfectly, bringing the slightest of smiles to her lips, “I guess there were a few good things that came out of my time at The Ranch.”
“Oh yeah,” he agreed, “I think it’s better when we can appreciate the fruits of our labor. City folks don’ really get t’ do that; not like we do back home.”
Not bothering to disagree, Bailey enjoyed her plate in silence, then stood to clear the table and load the dishwasher. Her task completed, she stated matter-of-factly, “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“I’m comin’, too,” Caleb sprang to join her. “I thought o’ something else we need, an�
�� there’s a shop over in th’ strip I can get it from.”
Crossing the street together, he left her at her place of employment, and made his way around the corner to the furniture store that faced the loop. Inside, he purchased a television, hauling the oversized box home to set it up on the cherry-wood entertainment center, which occupied the front wall of the living room.
Meanwhile, Bailey felt relieved to find Mark heading up the troops as usual. “Hey,” she greeted him with a small smile, “I’m back; think you might still have a place for me?”
“Of course,” the shop manager grinned. “Come on and we’ll get you activated on the time clock.”
Following him to the office, it only took a few minutes for them to complete the new forms and change her status in the computer. “I’ll put you on the regular schedule starting Sunday,” he grinned, “And you can come in at five every day until then, if you want. You need some new shirts?”
“Sure,” she smiled, happy to have the spares. Leaving a few minutes later, she moved next door, where the clerk helped her pick up a new go-phone similar to the one she had before. Glaring down at the device, she pondered which Facebook account she would attach to it, before shoving it in her pocket and exiting the store; those belonged to a girl I don’t really know any more.
Arriving back at the apartment, she glared at the giant box sitting outside the door. Stomping inside, she demanded, “What the hell is this?” her hand flopped open to indicate the screen that he had been staring at while he flipped through the channels.
“It’s… a… television,” he quipped.
“And why do we need that?” she commented curtly, displeased that things were beginning to look so familiar.
“Relax, I didn’ get a game or anything. Jus’ the set. For news an’ stuff,” he chuckled. “You know, I think bein’ at The Ranch changed you a lot.”
Bailey scowled, angry at his observation, “It’s late, and we have things to do tomorrow; I’m going to bed.” Not waiting for a reply, she sauntered down the hall and closed the door behind her.
His eyes wide with surprise, he watched her fiery highlights as they disappeared from sight; late huh, it’s only nine o’clock. Her sassy attitude brought a small smile to his lips, and he returned his attention to the flicker of the new set, continuing to scroll through until he had favorited a few more channels.
That task complete, he double-checked the door, and made his way to his own room. Removing his clothing, he opted for a shower before he slid between the new sheets. Lying in the greyish darkness, he contemplated his trip to visit the cement plant in the morning to ask for his job back.
If they don’t have a spot, I’ll have to hit a few others. He knew it wouldn’t be hard to find employment somewhere, as nearly everyone in town needed workers. That’s one nice thing about living in a boom town; maybe the only nice thing.
The following morning, Bailey awoke before the alarm. Making her way out to the kitchen, she opened the fridge and peered inside. Closing it, she tried the freezer, then a few of the cabinets. Restless, and not ready to prepare her meal, she opted to go for a run. Donning shorts and a tank, she headed out the front door and jogged the block, only mildly afraid of running into Ked. It’s too early for a sloth like him to be out and about, she reasoned; and with Caleb’s training, I might not be able to whoop him, but I could damn sure get his attention.
Arriving back at the apartment a short time later, she slipped into the shower and dressed in more average clothing. Feeling more relaxed, she strolled into the kitchen for the second time to make their breakfast. Catching her by surprise while she scrambled eggs and browned toast, Caleb entered through the front door, covered in sweat.
Spying her through the narrow window, he grinned, “Do I have time for a shower?”
“Not if you plan on a hot meal,” she teased. She wanted to be angry at him, but the friendly way he regarded her seemed to make it impossible to maintain. Placing their plates on the table, they enjoyed their meal in comfortable quiet.
“I’m headed over to the plant today, so I may not be home until late if they have a truck for me,” he informed her when he had finished.
“Alright,” she cleared the table, “I go in at five, so if you’re later than that, you’ll have to find dinner.”
“I’ll jus’ come over there, like always,” he smiled that she thought of his needs. “I’m gonna register for another class, too. Since there’s a computer in the boys’ room, it should go a lot smoother this semester. When do your courses start?”
“Next week, I think,” she loaded the washer, adding soap and cranking the dial. Sinking back into her chair, she prodded, “We’re really ok here, right? I don’t have to worry about someone appearing out of the shadows to grab me, do I?”
“Well, you always wanna be cautious,” he smirked, “But no, there won’ be anyone comin’ t’ get us from The Ranch. I’ll call an’ check in today, like I promised. We’ll stay in touch with what’s goin’ on out there, an’ it’ll go smoothly.” His eyes darted over to the wide screen inside the wooden box, drawn to the broadcast of violence across the country.
“Why’d you buy that thing?” she queried, following his gaze.
“So we can follow what’s happenin’ in the news; same as we did at The Ranch. I set the auto-tune to a few news channels, in case you’re interested in checkin’ any of ‘em out while I’m gone today.”
Bailey stared at the device. She had never really been a big TV person, only watching the popular shows that her friends from school took an interest in. She had discovered the members of the community down south preferred much different programming, feeding on the doom and gloom that some networks thrived on. “Something’s really going on in the world, isn’t it. Something I couldn’t see before.”
“Naw,” he ran fingers through his damp spikes, “Your eyes are open now, that’s all. You see things differently.” Hauling his tired limbs to his feet, he made for the hall and the shower beyond.
Returning to the kitchen, Bailey made sure everything was in order, and planned her day. She had a little money left over from the phone purchase, and she would need to secure a new bus pass. And I need to go to the credit union, so I can get my debit card sorted out. Yup, she had a full day ahead of her as well; lying on the couch watching the idiot maker will have to wait.
Exiting their tiny haven at the same time, the couple went their separate ways, each tending to business. Arriving back at the house in time for lunch, she prepared a sandwich and made her way to the desk to use the computer. Bringing up her Mason profile first, she deleted it. Then opening the Dewitt version, she made the necessary changes for her new phone.
Leaning back in the chair, she stared at the screen, blinking slowly while her thoughts churned. Using the mouse, her lengthy list of friends blurred as she scrolled through it. Clicking another icon, she switched to the news feed, taking in the never ending list of nonsense. These guys are nuts, she breathed through a clenched jaw.
Flipping back to the list of people, she began unfriending. What had taken her years to build, only took her fifteen minutes to destroy. Coming to Louise Mason, she stared at the name, curling her tongue. Clicking the envelope, she crisply typed a message, Hi Nanna, things are great! Here’s my new number, in case you want to reach me. How’s everyone doing back home? Hitting the send, she wondered how many days it would take for the older woman to notice and respond.
Staring at the single name that remained on her contacts, she typed a new one in the search bar. Locating the right Peter Mason, she sent the friend request. Then, going through every person by name, she added them all, starting with Caleb. When she came to John Cross, she hesitated, her hand beginning to tremble as it hung over the mouse; what the hell are you doing?
“I’m spying,” she replied almost immediately, speaking to the empty room and the screen before her. Only half worried whether or not they would accept the requests, she managed to find a profile for every
one aged fifteen and older from the community; I wonder why they’re on Facebook?
It seemed odd to her that a group of recluses would choose to use the social media. Of course, all of their pages were the highest level of private, the same as hers, so she wouldn’t be able to tell anything until someone let her in. Cleaning off her timeline as well, she created a single post. Sitting back into the chair again, she smiled at the specialness of it, considering for a moment what it would be like if the group actually accepted her in their midst.
Noting the time, she shut down the device and made her way to her own room to get ready for work. Not having replenished her supply of makeup, the process went much quicker, and half an hour later she was at the light, ready to take on the droves who would be dining with her that night.
Friend or Foe?
Peter Mason stared at the screen in disbelief. Bailey Ann Dewitt has sent you a friend request, he read the notice again. Holy shit! The hairs on his neck stood on end, and his thoughts raced; either she doesn’t know what we had planned for her, or she doesn’t know that I was involved.
Shaking his head, he clicked the small blue accept button, unable to resist the temptation to spy on her through the connection. A moment later, he could feel his pulse in his throat; her friends list had been annihilated. Only six people remained on it; his mother, himself, and four people from The Ranch. What the fuck are you up to, Bailey?
Her timeline had also been cleared, and every post hidden or removed, save the latest one. He glared at the life event, which read, Joined Lawson.
That can’t be! There could be no way for her to join Lawson. First off, she has no clue what Lawson is, he ran trembling fingers through salt and pepper curls, and second, why would Caleb allow her to do this? Clicking on the latter out of his list, he typed a message and hit send. Leaning back in the chair, he ran his digits around his mouth, formulating his next move.
Rising, he shut down the system, and headed for the diner, where dinner would be waiting, along with a room full of potentially pissed off people. They know, he breathed, his steps quick, they have to know. Four of them already accepted, and I’m sure she didn’t stop there.
The Irrevocable Series Boxed Set Page 18