by Marta Acosta
Although Oliver had cleaned his face, mud was smeared around his neck and on those ears so like Claire’s. His coppery hair and his clothes were dark with mud. The scratches all over his exposed skin were drying from red to brown. His mouth was the same shape as the one I missed so much, and his pale lashes filled me with melancholy and longing.
So when he said in a low and husky voice, “Want to take a shower?” I said, “Yes.”
We went to the bathroom and undressed without speaking. He looked younger when he was naked. His body was taut, muscled like an athlete’s, his skin was pale and freckled, and he was semi-erect. He stared at my breast and the flowers inked over my nipple, and his gaze traveled to the trio of scabs on my belly and then lower.
I turned on the water and got in. He stepped in and we handed each other the bottles of shampoos and body wash. We traded places to rinse off and then he reached out and I said, “Not here.”
We dried off and walked to my bedroom. I lit candles I hadn’t used since Claire.
I turned down the blankets. “I have rules. The first is, I can be gentle with others, but I can’t stand being touched gently. So if you want to graze your fingertips over my skin or give me butterfly kisses, you should get out now.”
“Actually, I thought I’d just fuck you.”
“That works for me. My second rule is, I always get to come. Third rule is put on a condom.” I pulled a foil packet from my bedside table.
I lay on the bed, propped on the pillows, and he watched me as he unrolled the condom over himself. Then he reached down and spread my legs wide and I let him look at me and enjoyed the pressure of his hands on my thighs, the feeling of his fingers exploring me.
We only kissed once when I was curious to know whether his mouth would taste like Claire’s, but Oliver tasted entirely different, which was and wasn’t a relief. I liked the roughness of his stubble and the strength in his muscled body.
Because we didn’t like each other, there was no need to be careful or tentative, no need to do anything other than what we wanted. We grabbed and shoved, pumped and sucked, pounded and ground against each other’s bodies selfishly and it felt so good not to care or even try to care.
I was already so aroused I was ready to come quickly, but not as quickly as Oliver.
I pushed him away and said, “Not yet,” and I guided his hand and said, “There.” He stroked me and my breaths grew ragged, and I said, “Now,” and he thrust into me hard and fast, and we shuddered together with our release, a shrugging of my entire body as I cried out and found myself...fully and completely calm, nerves rested, yet not alone.
Which is how I always wanted to feel. Which is how I thought other people must feel as they went about their days, walking and breathing and talking without their bodies rebelling and betraying them.
We lay quietly for a few minutes, and then Oliver pulled out and swung his legs over the bed to sit up. “I’m going.”
“Then leave already.” I straightened the blankets so they were aligned properly and was ready to sink into sleep.
He went to the bathroom and came back a few minutes later, dressed in his pants and holding his clothes. “Maddie, this was only because you’re convenient.”
“What did you think you were to me?”
“I think I’m absolutely nothing to you, and that proves what I’ve been saying all along: you didn’t and don’t deserve my sister because you’ve never really loved her. You wouldn’t have let me in if you did.”
My eyes welled because his face had the same look Claire’s had when she broke up with me. “Go the fuck away, Ollie, and lock the door behind you.”
Chapter 12
KENZIE HEARD ABOUT Mrs. Wainwright’s rescue and returned early Sunday morning when I was mucking out the stalls. I handed her a rake and gave her an overview of what had happened.
“There are lots of gaps in your story,” she said. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I slept with Oliver.”
“Oh, hell.”
“Oh, hell, exactly. He did it to sabotage any chance I’d have getting back with Claire.”
“So why did you do it?”
“Momentary insanity. I screwed myself.”
“Mad, she was a serious relationship for you, but you know she’s had a series of girlfriends. What seemed so intense....it’s temporary.”
I turned my face away. “She kept my toothbrush in her bathroom. That must mean something.”
“Maybe she didn’t even notice it. Don’t take something insignificant and build it up,” Kenzie said, and scrunched her face the way she did when she was bothered by something. “I hate to say it, but better Oliver than Ben. At least he’s single.”
“He fucked me to fuck with me and fuck me up and fuck me over.”
“Maybe he wanted to sleep with you for the usual reasons.”
“I don’t discount that, but it was primarily hate-sex and now I feel...” I said, my voice thick and uneven.
“It was your decision, too, Maddie.”
“I was confused. Please change the subject.”
“Okay. Do you know what Sasha called you in her news report?”
“The brilliant and gorgeous Dr. Madeleine Whitney?”
“She called you trackers the Midnight Runners, after the band that sang ‘Come On, Eileen.’”
“Well, it beats ‘Crazy Bitch.’ I thought you were coming back after brunch. Is everything all right with Christopher?”
“Everything’s fine. He really wants to meet you.”
“Oh.” I spread clean hay out to the corners of the stall and repeated something my therapists always said. “How do you feel about that?”
“You know we’re a package deal, hon. I want you to meet him.”
“And what if he doesn’t like me?”
“Don’t pretend you’ve been putting it off because he might not like you. He’s ready to like you.”
“Okay, what if I don’t like him? What if I really really can’t stand him, Kenzie? What if I treat Christopher the way Oliver treats me? It shouldn’t matter what I think.”
“But it does. You’re aware...” She paused. “You’re aware I’m an individual with my own needs, right?”
“Yes.”
She smiled. “Everything will be okay if you give Chris a chance.”
“I’ll try.” I picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow and steered it to the compost heap. I dumped the new horseshit atop a pile of old horseshit.
I MADE AN AFTERNOON trip to the Suncrest Market and discovered I was now a respected member of the community. Jaison’s girlfriend waved from her checkstand, and called, “Ms. Whitney—sorry, Dr. Whitney, I saw the rescue on TV. I was so excited I woke Jai. He was mad to miss the whole thing.”
“I’m sure he was happier with you, Julie.”
“Next time, you should take him. He told me he’s been training with you on search and rescue.”
“I couldn’t do it without him.”
“He’s special, isn’t he? You have a good day, Dr. Whitney!”
On the street, teens and grade-school kids loitered by the benches in front of the market, the traditional hangout for kids meeting up. The younger ones liked the proximity to the ice cream parlor while the teens schemed to get someone to buy them beer. Zoe meandered on their periphery, hovering near a beautiful Goth boy. The moment she saw me, she ran over, wrapping me in a hug. “Maddie!”
“Hey, sweetie.”
“Oh my god, you were ah-mazing last night. My mother said how mental stuff helped you communicate with the dogs to get that the old lady, which sounds a little loony to me, so, you know?”
Kids, who usually sneered when I walked by, wandered within hearing distance, pretending not to listen.
“The dogs communicated quite well their usual way with tails and ears, but I was paying extra attention since coyotes enjoy snacking on old ladies.”
“You look like you got into a fight with a bale of barbed wire and l
ost.”
“It was a hillside of blackberry and you should see the other guy.”
“Can you train me for search and rescue? I want to join the Midnight Runners.”
“How old are you now?”
“You’re supposed to know. Seventeen. Almost. I will be soon.”
“If you’re not working full-time at the feed store this summer, you can call me and maybe we can figure something out, but I don’t want it to interfere with your other obligations—family, school, and home chores take priority.”
“I’ll call tomorrow!”
Zoe’s friends clustered around her as I left. The only adult in this teen domain was a good-looking man in a blue polo shirt and jeans sitting on the bench. I recognized Oliver’s handsome associate at the Country Squire. I meandered toward him as he answered his phone saying, “Hugo here.” He was occupied with his conversation and didn’t notice me lingering in his general vicinity.
I walked down the block, gazing into closed windows, until I was across the street from the Versailles Sandwich Bistro. Had Oliver already told Claire about what had happened? The glass reflected too brightly for me to see inside. Light illuminates and light blinds.
I concentrated, thinking Claire, Claire, I’m here, feeling stupid and sad and confused and guilty as I thought of Oliver in my bed and the taste of his kiss and the look on his face when he told me I wasn’t good enough for her.
I headed back to my truck and almost walked into Beryl Jensen, who was dressed in neutral linens that looked like pajamas. She said, “Maddie! Now I know why you couldn’t make it to my party. I’m meeting friends for brunch at the Squire. Why don’t you join us?”
“I’ll have to pass.” I became transfixed by an aquamarine scarf she wore over one shoulder, as sheer as a butterfly’s wing. The wind teased at the edges, yet it didn’t blow away. Her mahogany red hair gleamed in the sunshine.
“You must want some peace and quiet after your busy night!”
“You hit the nail on the head. Nice seeing you, Beryl.”
“Oh, don’t rush off, Maddie. Or do you prefer ‘Dr. Whitney’? No, ‘Maddie’ because we’re old friends. If you’d come last night, I would have introduced you to my caterer. She wants to adopt a dog. The kitchen TV was on and the staff was watching Eileen Wainwright being brought up from the well—”
“It was a culvert, not a well.”
“Anyway, to make a long story short, I told my caterer I knew you and you could help her get a dog. Do you still have those puppies? I’ll have Penelope call you. In fact, I’ll pay for the consultation.”
“My personalized dog matching service is triple my usual rehabilitation fee since it requires a high degree of expertise to identify the ideal partner for someone’s lifestyle and personality.”
“You’ll use your psychic connections? Wonderful! Penelope will call you soon. She’s very interested in talking to you.”
I tensed thinking about Beryl’s foodie friend. “My process requires an initial telephone consultation. I’ll send the invoices directly to you.” I hurried away before she could trap me in unprofitable conversation.
I DIDN’T GIVE ANY FURTHER thought to Beryl’s caterer because I could barely keep up with all my consultations. The activity disturbed me and at dinner Kenzie said, “You’re fidgety tonight. I’m going to tie mittens to your hands, like mothers do with babies to keep them from scratching themselves. It’s your turn to do the dishes.”
“It’s always my turn to do the dishes.”
“Because you never cook.”
“Never is an absolute. It means without exception and I do cook, so never is not applicable.”
“Microwaving something I’ve prepared isn’t cooking so never is applicable.”
I was going to argue my point when her phone rang. She looked at the caller’s number and walked out of the room to answer it.
I dumped the dishes in a tub of water and left them to soak. I shoved a food-crusted cast-iron skillet in the oven, shut it, reconsidered, and took it out. I dunked the skillet under hot water, squirted it generously with soap, and scoured it.
Kenzie returned as I was drying the skillet with a towel and gave me a suspicious look before saying, “That was Raymond. He’s coming here this week.”
“Why?”
“He said he missed us.”
“He only misses us when he’s broke. Did you tell him we’re broke, too?”
“It’s been almost a year since we’ve seen him. I hope you didn’t use soap on the cast-iron skillet.”
“Kenzie, why would I use soap when I know it washes off the pan’s seasoning?” I hung the dish towel on a hook. “Call Mom and ask her to tell Raymond we’re too busy for a visit.”
“You call her. How long has it been than you talked to her? I mean, other than shouting ‘Hi, Mom,” while I’m on the line.”
“It’s the only way I can communicate with someone who thinks I’m the living embodiment of God’s punishment on her for having sex with El Professor Caliente Pantalones.”
“For heaven’s sake, stop feeling with the persecution complex.”
“It’s not a complex if people really are out to get me. Okay, I’ll call her.”
As I was staring at my phone, Ben called, saying how excited his family was that he was on TV.
“Maddie, I have something to tell you, and I’m worried you’ll be upset.”
Anxiety clouded over me. “What?”
“I broke my promise. I told my kids about Barking Mad Reviews. Are you angry?”
I laughed. “Furious. Did you swear them to confidentiality?”
“Of course, but they’re likely to blow the secret if someone offers them a juice box.”
“I guess I’ll have to live in eminent danger.”
“Also, the kids want to write reviews and Helen still confuses cartoon characters with real animal actors. She’s dictating her critiques. They’re rambling and incoherent.”
“Or maybe you’re unable to comprehend her genius. We can have a column for children’s contributions. What does Ava think?”
“She hopes we won’t limit our reviews to dogs and cats. She mentioned a movie she saw with a very moving role played by a chicken. A chicken.”
“I like chickens despite their intellectual limitations. I draw the line at insects because insects...” And my good mood vanished at the thought of flies rising like black mesh lifted off corpse. “Thanks for calling, Ben. See you soon.”
Chapter 13
JAISON TOSSED A BALL for Zeus, who’d tracked one of my tennis shoes five times in a row. “He’s already good. We should be getting the pups ready to move out.”
“Zeus is my priority,” I said. “The sooner I can hand him over to the sheriff, the better. Why is Julie so friendly to me?”
“Because you’re a celebrity.”
“Coyote Run sets a very low bar for fame. I got a free beer at the Brewhouse yesterday, but they could have been making up for the fact I was assaulted the last time I was there.”
“All the pretty girls get free drinks there. I never get free drinks, and Rudy always says racist shit like he’s joking, but I know he’s not.”
“Rudy is an jerk on many levels. At least he gives free peanuts with beer.”
“That’s why I stay in Coyote Run. That and the blue sky, the open land, and the tough and sweet country girls. A girl in cowboy boots and shorts...” He sighed.
“You paint a pretty picture, Jai. Okay, wait ten minutes, and track me with Zeus first and then with Bertie.”
I left the center and jogged at a fast pace in zig-zag patterns, doubling back over the creek and hiding behind an abandoned chicken coop. My phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number so I answered with a whispered “What?”
“Hello. Is this Dr. Madeleine Whitney?”
At that moment, Zeus rounded the chicken coop and charged toward me. Bertie came a second later and as the dogs gamboled around me, I dropped the phone and heard it crack
against the ground. I was picking out the SIM card when Jaison joined me.
“Did you bust another phone?”
I shoved the pieces in my jeans’ pocket. “Do you want to be an official Midnight Runner?”
“Yeah, sure. Show me the secret handshake. Can we get t-shirts?”
“Here’s the handshake,” I said, sticking my thumbs in my ears and wiggling my fingers. “If you design the t-shirts, I’ll order them. Make them dark blue, like the night sky.”
I RUMMAGED THROUGH the junk drawer of Kenzie’s desk until I found a discarded phone. I had just inserted my SIM card when the phone rang.
“Dr. Whitney? We got cut off before. I’m Penelope Millard and Beryl Jensen said she talked to you about choosing a puppy for me.”
I glanced at the time, thinking I would round up this phone consultation to an hour, and I went to the bathroom and took a pair of scissors from the vanity. “Hello, Penelope. Very nice to hear from you.” If I held the phone between my shoulder and my ear, I could snip hair on the other side of my head. “Why don’t you tell me a little about why you want a dog?”
While she said the usual stuff—company, a running partner, security—I kept trimming. I switched the phone to my other ear. “How nice! Do you have any particular breed in mind?”
I had to set down the phone so I could trim my bangs. At some point, I noticed the silence, so I quickly picked up the phone. “I hear what you’re saying, and I think this needs to be explored in-depth. Even within breeds there are variations in temperament. We’ve got to select on an individual basis. A high-energy small dog is going to be more challenging than a calm big dog.”
“I said I wanted a smaller size Lab. I’ve found three breeders of chocolate labs in the county. Do you schedule the visits, or am I supposed to?”
By twisting my head, I was able to guess where I should cut along my nape. “I really think we need to meet first because I need to evaluate your...energy and inspect your space.”
“I’m free tomorrow morning from ten to twelve. I’m at the old Foothills Restaurant.”