by Marta Acosta
“I’d kick his fucking ass.”
“Here’s some news: it’s already happened. It’s happened to her and every woman you know, and it’s been done by Neanderthals like you who resent a woman’s autonomy. You wouldn’t have done it to me if you thought I was capable of retaliating, so it’s cowardly bullying behavior. Stop being a retrograde sphincter and tell your friends to stop being retrograde sphincters. On the non-sphincter front, Ben Meadows, New Doc, is looking for a front-of-office position at the vet clinic and I need is someone to build additional kennels.”
“Maddie, I’m glad I didn’t understand half the words you used, or my feelings would be hurt.” He grinned and I laughed. “Okay, I’m going to give serious thought to what you said. Second, do you mean Dawg’s old job? Think I’ll pass, but I’m your man for the kennels. My uncle’s a licensed contractor, and I grew up working with him.”
“Let’s talk next week. You can let me take your Raptor for a spin.”
Hardwire made a face. “Might have to give her up if I can’t make payments. I thought money would be coming in, but everyone’s freaking out after those earthquake swarms in Oklahoma...well, don’t count your chickens until they’re fracked, right? Later!” His eyes glanced off to the side before he drove away.
I reached down for Bertie, but he wasn’t there. I turned and saw him beside Claire, who stood in the shadow of the feed store awning. She wore a creamy vintage lace shirt that was too small in the right ways, jean cut-offs, and flip-flops. Her hair was pulled back loosely so that strands drifted around her face.
“Hi, Maddie.”
“Hi, Claire.”
“I was on my way to the Versailles. Why were you talking to Hardwire? I thought you hated him.”
“He’s going to do some work for me. He’s a nice guy once you get past the young man nonsense.”
“Oh. I was just surprised,” she said. “I’ve been thinking of you after the fire. Olly told me what happened.”
I couldn’t tell if she meant the truth or the official story. “Thank you for your concern.”
“That’s one of your phrases.”
“I mean them more now.”
“I’m glad you and Olly are getting along. It means a lot to me.”
I took in her wide, sensual lips, the curve of her shoulders, her long smooth legs, smudged with paint like wildflowers in a field. “How’s your painting?”
“Good. I’m working on a series about the illusion of vision.”
“Nothing is what we think it is.” I lifted my gaze to her green-gold eyes. “But I look at you and see the most beautiful woman in the world, and nothing will ever convince me otherwise.”
“It’s your delusion, Mad Girl, but I appreciate it.”
I waited for her to say something else, but when she didn’t. “Well, I better be going,” which was another of my phrases, and I walked away with my dogs, each of us learning to live apart from someone we loved.
I WAS LISTED AS A GUEST performer on the poster for the shelter’s karaoke night, and Georgie said, “You’re the big draw, since you’re a famous animal psychic.”
“Communicator. I have put away my crystal ball, and I don’t think five-minute spots on a local station make me famous.”
Sasha Seabrook sat beside one of the kitten wranglers, touching up her lipstick in a pocket mirror. “Maddie’s too cynical. If you’re not famous yet, you will be when I feature you with a roomful of kittens. Is Bertie good with cats? Because kittens playing all over the hero dog is guaranteed ratings gold.”
“To the best of my knowledge, he’s never eaten a kitten, but there’s always a first time.”
“Maddie!” Georgie said.
“What? I didn’t say he was likely to eat a kitten.”
“You’re up.”
I wove through the tables and hopped on the stage. “Give me a sec,” I said. “I’m overwhelmed by the choices.” I heard scattered laughter and looked up, but it was difficult to see faces behind the glare of the bright stage light. When I squinted, I was able to distinguish the color I always sought, the red-gold hair of Claire’s long hair, loose over her shoulder.
“Who else loves Rudy’s Brewhouse?” I asked, and the crowd hooted. As I sang, “I love this bar,” I looked at the faces, some familiar and some just passing through, and grinned. When I finished, I waved to Claire and returned to my table.
Knowing she was there and not looking was difficult, especially when Georgie said, “Aren’t you going to speak to Claire?”
“I’ve been told off and no jumping enough.”
Sasha asked, “Who’s she?”
“The sheriff’s sister.” I peeked around and Claire was gone.
“The buff sheriff? Is he single?”
“No,” Georgie said, and I said, “Yes. Are you going to sing, Sasha?”
“Prepare to be amazed,” she said. “I studied musical theater before I became a serious journalist.” She winked at me and took the next turn onstage. She had a sweet soprano voice and made dramatic arm gestures while she belted out, “The Right Kind of Wrong,” and cast intense looks at a table of crusty old codgers.
I leaned to Georgie and whispered, “The Brewhouse, once again the romantic hotspot of Coyote Run,” and she laughed so hard beer went up her nose, which made Angus laugh until his eyes watered.
I stayed for several more songs before calling it a night and heading to my truck. Claire had let down the tailgate and was sitting on it, swinging her legs.
“You took your damn sweet time.”
“I didn’t know you were waiting.”
I moved closer to stand at her knees. I wanted to say so many things that I couldn’t think of where to start, so I just gazed at her lovely face.
“You’ve changed, Madeline. Not changed...grown.” She reached out, clutched my arm, and drew me close. “You’re not hiding in your room, or behind your sister, or with your dogs all the time.”
“Maybe, but I’m still happiest by myself, or with my dogs, or with Kenzie. That’s never going to change. Everything else is an effort that I can only sustain for a limited period.”
“Come home with me tonight.” She pulled me between her legs and raised her face, illuminated by the street lights.
I hesitated because I wanted her so much and I remembered the feel of her supple body wrapped around mine. She was still the ideal, still luminous marvelous Claire, and the rest of the world was Not Claire, but that didn’t make me feel so desperate anymore.
I stepped back, out of her reach. “I have a Rottweiler named Heidi. Her owners paid a fortune for a purebred pup because they thought they wanted a Rottweiler. They’d researched breeds, analyzed their lifestyle, and that was their calculation. The owners are perfectly nice people, but it was a mismatch that made the Rottie unbalanced and them miserable. Away from them, the Rottie can be more than just a source of destruction and frustration: she can be fantastic on her own terms,” I said. “There’s nothing I want more than to be the right girl for you, Claire. But I’m not and never will be.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” She hopped off the tailgate and slammed it closed. “See you in my dreams, Madeline Margaret.”
I watched her walk away, resisting the urge to chase after her. It wasn’t until I reached to close the tailgate that I saw the rectangular package she’d left. I tore off brown paper wrapping and found a painting. Using the light from my phone, I read the inscription on the back: To my mad muse.
Chapter 24
THE NEXT WEEK HAPPENED too quickly. A real estate agent drew up papers for the sale of six acres to Ben and Ava. Kenzie donated her horses to a therapy center in Mendocino and the ranch hand took another job. Jaison moved into the nicest of the Airstream trailers, and the other trailers sold on the same day that we advertised them.
I couldn’t stop thinking about life without Kenzie nearby, and I tried to wear out my anxiety with chores I usually avoided. Twice Olly came by for a short training session with Zeus and Ber
tie. I liked it when he visited late, when the stars shone in the dark sky and we’d run, taking in the chilly air, wending our way through the fields and scrub brush. The sound of his footsteps became as familiar to me as the sound of Bertie’s, and we both knew when to reach out to give each other a hand over obstacles, or to provide steadiness.
One night, both of us slipped on the loose soil of a slope, and we rolled down together, laughing as the dogs leapt around us. Oliver’s laugh was rough and full and easy as we lay on our backs, gazing at the spangled sky. The pale light reflected on the angles of his face and showed the rise and fall of his chest.
We got up, brushed the dirt off our clothes, and went back to my house, stopping at the U-Haul trailer by the back door. We talked about our dogs, but I grew agitated and felt my arms rising up to flap.
Oliver grinned, and I said, “Are you laughing at my twitches?”
“No, I’m smiling because it’s as if you, Maddie Whitney, fight even against the confines of a human body.”
The warmth of his voice confused me when I was already disconcerted. “Kenzie’s so excited to move in with Christopher. I thought she loved the country like me, but she can’t wait to be in a ‘civilized’ place with sidewalks and shops. How will you stand it if Claire leaves?”
“I’ll try not to have a breakdown. You know that she’s the special one.”
“Yes. There are the special siblings, and the bad seeds.”
“Not so bad, Maddie. Not so bad as I once thought.”
“I appreciate that you have such low expectations of me. I never have to try not to disappoint you.”
“No, but you manage to surprise me all the time. I understand why Claire put up with you for so long.”
“She believed I could be improved.”
“She saw what you could be if you tried.”
“I’ve never seen the purpose of trying to be someone I’m not. Why didn’t she give up sooner?”
“Possibly because of your dark sex magic.”
I couldn’t make out his expression and turned away to look at the U-Haul.
“Maddie.”
“What.”
“What I said to you that night...I’m sorry. I’d only seen you as someone difficult who made my sister’s life difficult...” His voice drifted off, waiting for a response, I supposed.
“It’s no secret that I am difficult.”
“You’re much more than just difficult.”
My desire for Oliver Desjardins tangled with wariness. I couldn’t risk ruining whatever it was we had when I was already losing my sweet Kenzie. Tears blurred my vision as I smiled and told him thank you for telling me, goodnight, see you soon, the banalities serving as cheap veneer to my longing and desolation.
HELPING KENZIE PACK was like packing up my own heart. One day she found me in the living room crying as I wrapped her porcelain knickknacks in bubble wrap.
She put her arms around me. “What is it?”
“I’ve always hated these stupid fussy things. At least they don’t stink of perfume.”
“Now you won’t have to hide them when you think I’m not paying attention. I won’t be far.”
“You won’t be here...”
“Bossing you around and scolding you.”
“I like you bossing me around.”
“But, Maddie, I don’t like being bossy. I just want to be me.”
My gut clenched. “I’m being sentimental, Kenz.”
“You, sentimental!” she said, and laughed, but I had to leave the room so she wouldn’t see me crying again.
I took a cardboard box and a stack of newspaper and went to her room. I would prove that I was happy for her by clearing her dresser. I opened the window wide to give me fresh air and breathed through my mouth as I wrapped the bottles of perfume and jars of the covered a large mirrored vanity tray. I took a new section of paper and picked up the tray. Hidden underneath was a manila folder.
We all have our secrets and a better person would have left the folder alone.
But I was not a better person. I opened the folder and saw the torn envelope and pages from the DNA analysis company. I picked them up and a photo slipped out. It was only a photo from a long ago barbecue, my young parents and the attractive neighbors. Still when I read the different results for Kenzie and me, I couldn’t absorb them immediately.
“Maddie.” Kenzie was in the doorway. “What are you doing?”
“I thought I’d surprise you by packing the things I can’t stand. Talk about irony. How long have you known? Does everyone know?”
She twisted her hands together. “I didn’t know. Until I saw the results.”
“But you suspected. That’s why you made me color my hair. So no one else would guess about my father. How long?”
“At the Grange Hall fracking meeting. I’d never seen you standing together before and... I don’t know who else knows. Except for Mom and him, I guess. Maybe Dad.”
“Abel Myklebust is Professor El Caliente Pantalones.” I laughed until my laugh devolved into a senseless noise.
“I found a story in the newspaper archives about his family history. His mother was Mexican and that’s where you both get your coloring.” She came to me and said, “I didn’t want to share you with him.”
I closed my eyes and flapped my arms several times to regain some equilibrium. “There’s no chance of that. I hated him before and I hate him even more now.”
“He’s rich.”
“He was rich when he neglected Mom to work herself to the bone bringing us up.”
“Are you going to tell her we know?”
I thought of the secrets I was already keeping. “She’s earned her time to be happy. If anyone asks, tell them to mind their own damn business.”
We wiped our eyes and finished packing while listening to our favorite songs and singing along. I waited until Kenzie and Christopher drove away towing a U-Haul before I stood in her empty bedroom and sobbed.
ON THE OPENING MORNING of Bonanza Days, I climbed into the back of the flatbed truck which had been decorated with streamers and placards saying Midnight Runners Search & Rescue Team. Bertie hesitated a moment before he jumped up, but Zeus leaped easily.
I wore a new dark blue Midnight Runners SAR tank with shorts and freshly polished boots, and Oliver was in his usual khakis and Midnight Runners t-shirt.
“About time, Dr. Whitney.”
“I had to finish my chores. They take longer without Kenzie around. I’ve made an executive decision not to get drunk today.”
“You’ll be one less person to arrest for D&D.” Jaison and Georgie were our drivers, and Franklin and Ben rode in the ’54 Chevy Short-Step behind us. “Are you telling me this for any reason?”
“I’m trying to steel myself to deal with the people, noise, smells, and other sensations.”
“I’ll look the other way if you make a break for the margarita tent. Which one of your dogs chewed off your hair?”
“Sadly, they lack opposable thumbs so I’m reduced to cutting my own hair.”
“For Christmas, I’ll have the department buy you one of those vacuum cleaner hair cutters they advertise late at night.”
“I’ve always wanted one of those.”
We shared a smile, and I felt a surge of affection and longing.
Georgie leaned out the driver’s side window. “Showtime!” Our truck joined the line of vehicles, riders, and marchers on the quarter mile parade ending at the fields behind Rudy’s Brewhouse. Competitors for riding and cooking contests and tourists filled the streets. Oliver and I waved to the crowd as we went by, and “Come On, Eileen,” blasted from the speaker mounted to the cab.
Acquaintances waved and sang along, and I heard children calling, “Daddy! Daddy!” I spotted Ava, holding a little girl while a man beside her held up a little boy, and they were all looking at Ben. Ava waved at me and shouted, “Midnight Runners!” and Ollie and I answered back with hollers and waves.
Ollie said,
“Zeus’s eyeing the crowd like a platter of unattended spareribs.”
“I don’t know if you actually believe that, or if you get off on the idea that he’s dangerous and powerful, which is not a healthy way to think about Zeus. Also, I’m a lot more likely to go berserk and rampage through the crowd with stops at the food stands.”
“I like him being powerful and athletic, but I’m concerned he’s dangerous. I’m taking him right back to my office after this. I could lock you in there, too, for safety.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I promised to help at the County Shelter table.”
After the parade, Franklin and I joined Georgia at her prime location by the stage. We posed for photos with our dogs, but Franklin kept glancing at his watch and finally said, “Wish I could stay, but I’ve got to get to Joshua Tree. I’m leading a training at daybreak tomorrow. Bertie looks like he’s winding down. Would you like me to take him to your place?”
“Would you, Franklin? I promised Georgie I’d stay until three.”
I gave Bertie a vigorous back scratching and sent him with Franklin. I shouted pet advice and adoption opportunities with everyone who came by, trying to be heard over the music and announcements. There was a lull in the cacophony for the crowing of the Barbecue Sauce King and Queen, resplendent in their red velvet finery.
Ben came for his shift with our group. “I’ve never seen so much fried and sugared food,” he said. “Ava’s going to have to pry the kids off the ceiling to get them to bed tonight.”
“Not you?”
“We’ve established an indulgent daddy-slash-strict mommy routine,” he said. “How is Kenzie?
“Giddy in love. She has time to do a million things now she’s not babysitting me. She and Christopher are taking salsa classes. She goes to plays and concerts, and has made new friends. I’m in the process of adjusting to life by myself in our stupid house.”
“Why is the house stupid?”
“It’s too big for one person and I’m stuck with memories of my severely dysfunctional family, but I love the land. I’m glad we’ll be sharing it.”