Finding Goodbye

by Brittany Elise

  “I’ve never seen a fat duck. It could be interesting. People might come from miles and miles to see the world’s largest duck. I bet you could charge them anything and they would pay.”

  Grandpa chuckled but Grandma didn’t find my flippant humor to be amusing. “Here,” she said, handing me a basket. “After you’ve finished, would you mind collecting the eggs? I haven’t had a chance to go out this morning.”

  “Finished,” I said, rising from the table. I took my saucer to the sink and took the basket and headed for the door.

  Radar met me on the porch, bouncing excitedly as he led the way across the lawn. I followed him to the back side of the barn, facing the pasture and the rolling hills beyond. The trees were all budding now, and the air was heavy with the scent of their floral blooms. There was something magical to be said for a Carolina spring. The pastel colors erupted from the branches, blooming in delicate, soft petals. The beauty would soon fade, but it was an enchanting thing to witness while it lasted.

  I pushed through the side door of the barn, and turned a sharp corner for the chicken coop. When I stepped inside, I let out a high-pitched shriek, and found myself face to face with a red fox. His tawny eyes were locked on mine, ears pinned back against his head. Feathers were floating everywhere, and the chickens were making such a ruckus and flapping about that I couldn’t catch my bearing.

  My presence caused the fox to flee, and I caught a brief flash of his bushy tail vanishing through a hole on the outer barn wall. One of the chickens took flight, making a clumsy line for my head. I ducked, and stumbled backwards over my feet and slammed into something hard. Searing hot pain splintered through my leg as I struggled to catch my balance.

  “Whoa, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Liam’s voice was frantic at my ear. His hands were gripping both of my arms as I struggled to right myself.

  “There was a fox,” I gasped. “Did you see?”

  Liam pulled me out of the chicken coop and into the side hallway, away from the chaos. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I think so,” I said, taking a step and then winced in pain. I must have twisted something in my right leg.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “My knee,” I said.

  He took me gently by the elbow and led me over to a bale of straw that was resting against the wall, and sat down. He lifted my leg over his lap and began pressing gingerly into my knee with his fingertips.

  I felt my face begin to heat with chagrin, so I closed my eyes and tipped my head back against the wall. When his fingertips pressed into my inner knee, I felt a sharp pain shooting down my leg. “Ow,” I said, sucking in air.

  “We should look at it,” he said, searching my eyes for permission.

  “I probably just twisted it,” I said, brushing it off. “There’s so much equipment in there, it just gets hypersensitive now and then.”

  “Yeah, but if it’s swollen you should probably see a doctor,” he said.

  I didn’t want him to see my scars; I was afraid that he would see how ugly they were and go running for the hills. It was a stupid thing to think about, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want any part of me to turn away any part of him.

  I bit my bottom lip, and nodded.

  My breath caught in my lungs as he pushed the bottom of my pant leg upward. I could feel his fingertips just barely brushing the surface of my skin as he rolled the pant leg up and over my knee. I watched as Liam examined my knee, turning my leg carefully so he could see where the source of the pain had been emanating from. His face was stone; unwavering. I looked down at the scarring; the light colored flesh that traced along my inner knee and flowed down my shin. Liam’s face was unreadable, so I waited for him to look up at me.

  “It looks swollen,” he said finally. He met my eyes, and I could see that his had hardened. The usual vibrant colors had seemed to go black. This was it, I thought. This was the moment I’d shown too much and he was going to flee.

  “Are you even breathing?” he asked, a line twisting his mouth into an upward smirk.

  I blinked, and released the breath I had apparently been holding. “Sorry,” I said. The color was back in his eyes, and I wondered if I had only imagined the darkness out of fear. I leaned forward to get a better view, and sure enough the side of my knee was visibly swelling and pink in color.

  “Let’s get you back to the house,” he said.

  “I’ll be okay,” I said to him. “I’m prone to swelling, honestly.”

  “Still, I’d feel a lot better if we got some ice on it.” He shifted me without effort, picking me up so that I was cradled in his arms. I looped my arms around his neck and let him carry me out of the barn.

  “What about the chickens?” I asked.

  “I’ll check on them, but I’m sure they’re fine.”

  “I hope so,” I said. I didn’t know what I’d do if one had been missing. Grandma had names for all of them (naturally.) She’d named most of them after favorite book characters, and I’d hate to have to tell her that a Scarlet or Pippi had died. No doubt she’d probably have a funeral service for them.

  We reached the porch, and Liam shifted me in his arms so he could pull open the screen door. The sound of it slamming behind us caused Grandma to turn in our direction. When she saw me, her eyes widened with a mixture of fear and confusion.

  “What happened?”

  “I’m fine, Grandma.” I thought it best to start with that so she wouldn’t fret any more than necessary.

  “There was a fox in the chicken coop and she got spooked and tripped. I think she twisted her knee,” Liam said. “It’s pretty swollen.” Great, I thought, the veterinarian was diagnosing me like he would one of his animal patients.

  “Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side,” I scolded him.

  “I am,” he said with certainty; defiantly.

  “Take her to the living room,” Grandma instructed.

  Liam rounded the corner with Grandma trailing after us. He sat me down on the couch, but instead of standing, stayed kneeling on the floor in front of me. Grandma inspected my knee and I could tell she was worried by the sharp pull of her mouth.

  “I should call a doctor,” she said.

  “No, Grandma, I’m fine. It’s just a twist, I’m sure it will be okay once I rest it for a little while. Please,” I begged.

  She studied me briefly, eyes hardening. “Okay,” she said finally. “We’ll put some ice on it, and if the swelling and pain doesn’t subside within the hour we’re calling a doctor.” She turned and headed straight for the kitchen–decision made, and no questions asked.

  I turned to Liam. “Will you check on the chickens please?”

  “Yes.” He rolled his eyes. “Stop worrying about the chickens.”

  “I’m just concerned that one of them might be hurt, and everyone in here is making such a silly fuss over me.”

  Still, he didn’t budge. Instead, he reached up and plucked a white feather from my hair. He held it between his index and middle finger, letting it catch in the light between us. Of course there had been a feather in my hair. Life wouldn’t spare me a break in the humiliation department.

  Grandma returned with an ice pack and placed it with gentle precision over my knee. She also handed me a glass of water and couple of pain killers. I took them, and then handed the glass back to her. “Thanks,” I said.

  “Liam, would you mind fetching Matthew from the greenhouse, please? I imagine he’ll want to take a look at the chicken coop to see what needs to be repaired,” Grandma said.

  “Yes Ma’am.” He rose quickly, stirring the air as he left.

  “So, a fox huh
? We haven’t had a fox in years. We’ll have to keep a careful eye on Luna; I don’t want her going out at night anymore.”

  “Maybe we can get her one of those light-up harnesses and a leash,” I said, tilting my head back into the couch pillows.

  “Do they make those?” Grandma asked.

  “Yeah, I’ll swing by the farm supply store and pick up one.”

  “After you’ve rested,” Grandma said. “Assuming you won’t need to see a doctor.”

  “I won’t,” I assured her. “This is all just a part of things I have to deal with.” Permanently–I thought, but decided not to say aloud. I really didn’t want everyone to make such a fuss when something like this happened. Unfortunately, this was all a part of the process.

  Grandma turned her attention to the window, and Liam and Grandpa were making their way to the barn. “I should go see what damage has been done; I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Okay,” I said, watching her go.

  The screen door whined on its hinges as she left, and I shifted my eyes to the clock on the mantel, listening to steady toll of the second hand. I watched it moving around the face of the clock, knowing that I could use it to escape to an in-between. I bit my lower lip, watching that second hand shift, and as a full minute passed, I realized that something had changed… It was a nameless something, but it made me feel stronger. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t need to escape.

  Maybe this was acceptance.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You’re doing it again,” I said, sounding annoyed. The sun was high in the early afternoon sky, beaming down on the back of my neck. It was actually warm enough to induce sweat, and I could feel the tiny beads trickling down my spine.

  “I’m not doing anything,” Beck said defensively. She was sitting on top of the railing of the round pen, munching loudly on a bag of Doritos. I swear it was possible to hear her from two counties over. Now that Beck had broken up with Rex, she was determined to quit smoking, and going cold-turkey was proving to be more arduous than she imagined. She was overcompensating by stuffing her face (continuously) with snack-food.

  “I’m talking about the sound,” I complained, gesturing to her orange stained cheese-covered fingers. “It’s distracting.”

  “Excuse me,” she said around a mouthful of chips. She rolled the lip of the bag down, and tossed it in the grass. “Happy now?”

  “Sorry,” I groaned, rolling my neck from side to side. “I’m just really frustrated.” Maverick was leaning over the railing, plucking newly budded leaves from the apple tree growing beside the arena. I had managed to get his bridle on, and draped the saddle pad over his back, but he was still not having it with the saddle.

  Frustrated was an understatement. I had spent the majority of the week working with Maverick, trying desperately to get the saddle on, and the progress we made had completely halted. Something so basic should not be causing so much heartburn. I was at my wits-end, and fresh out of ideas.

  “Why is it so important that you get the saddle on him before tomorrow?” Beck asked, wiping the remaining crumbs on her pant legs.

  “I don’t know.” I sighed. “I guess I wanted to prove that I could do this on my own. I wanted my grandparents to see that I was serious about making this lifestyle a part of my future.” I had been on serious mission to carve out my own path in life. I’d already looked into the equine program at HU and had decided to enroll for fall semester. This would still give me the rest of the summer to keep working at the farm, learning the tricks of the trade. I didn’t want to walk into class as a total rookie.

  “And it has nothing to do with wanting to impress Liam?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows deviously.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “No… Okay, maybe just a little. But only because he’s been so supportive,” I added in defense.

  “Yeah, okay.” She rolled her eyes. “How much longer do you plan on being out here?”

  I looked up at the sky, studying the white wispy puffs of the clouds drifting through the radiant blue above. Maverick had loped over to me, nuzzling my shoulder affectionately. I reached up to rub his nose, and leaned my head against his, breathing in the comforting scent of his neck. “What do you say boy, are you done for the day?” I walked him over to the gate, and slipped the bridle off his face, and led him out into the pasture to graze. I’d start training again in the morning.

  Beck had the day off, and showed up this morning declaring that I was going out with her to a party tonight. She had met a guy from HU, who had stumbled in to the Crescent Moon on his lunch break for a cup of coffee, (and a piece of peach cobbler) which immediately sparked her interest since that was her favorite. After a little talking and some heavy flirting, he’d invited her to a Frat party off campus. She told me that he was the complete opposite of Rex–which was exactly what she was looking for in a guy–claiming that he was just what she needed for a rebound. Though I didn’t necessarily agree with her methods, I promised to tag along for support.

  We left the arena, and left the horses to graze in the pasture. Inside, Grandma was busing herself with “spring cleaning.” She had started with the windows on Tuesday, scrubbing them from top to bottom–inside, and out. She had managed to rope everyone into her charade–including Liam, who had climbed the ladder to scrub the windows on the second story of the house. I had been in my room writing an email to my mom, informing her of my decision to go back to school, when he tapped on my window. I walked over to the ledge, unlocking the latches and thrust the window upward.

  “Don’t tell me she got to you, too?” I smiled, leaning against the window frame and crossed my arms.

  Liam had a bucket of water in one hand, and a squeegee in the other. “It’s not so bad,” he replied, grinning. “So this is your room, huh?” He leaned forward, eyes scanning the room.

  “Well, it was my mother’s old bedroom, actually.”

  “It’s nice,” he said. His all-consuming, evergreen eyes rested on mine.

  “I’d invite you in, but, I don’t think my grandparents would think so highly of you anymore if they found out you came in through my bedroom window.” I grinned.

  “Well we can’t have that now, can we?”

  “Nope,” I said, smirking. “We both have a reputation to uphold.”

  “Maybe,” he said, “but don’t pretend to know anything about my reputation. I could be bad.” He stretched out the syllable, making it sound dangerous.

  “Maybe you are,” I said with a shrug, “but I’m not.” …Even if I wanted to be.

  “I guess I’ll just have to get back to work then,” he said, reaching up to close himself out of my window.

  There was something incredibly infectious about his smile. I couldn’t help but to return it as I closed my curtains, jokingly shutting him out while I went back to writing my email.

  The rest of the week had been much the same, with Grandma storming through the house and dispensing useless clutter. Only, Liam was in class and otherwise saved from her cleansing pursuit. I helped where I could, but was excused when I made it apparent that I needed to be working with Maverick instead.

  “Watch where you step,” I told Beck as we came into the kitchen. Grandma had been going through the cupboards and pantry–boxing up things she no longer had use for, and was planning to take to the local town Shelter. Among some of these items were gently-used Tupperware containers that had been popular in the eighties, (the kind that people used to sell at house parties) and heavy ceramic pottery that might have been around during the Civil War. “Grandma is binge cleaning.”

  “Maybe she can come over and do the Crescent Moon’s kitchen after,” Beck said, stepping over a large cardboard box. The w
ord DONATION was written across the side in black sharpie-marker scrawl.

  “Don’t tempt her,” I said, heading for the stairs.

  Beck helped herself to my closet, pushing clothes down the rack as she rifled through the fabric contents. “You can’t wear any of this stuff,” she said in disappointment. “None of these are party material.”

  “Those are my clothes.” I shrugged. “I didn’t plan to bring my entire wardrobe when I decided to stay at the farm,” I told her.

  “Well do you own anything that’s not so casual?” she questioned, holding up a T-shirt whose only fashionable characteristic was its ivory lace pocket.

  “Negative,” I responded, “not here, anyway.”

  “Okay, where’s home then?” she asked, placing the shirt back in the closet, and closed the door behind her.

  “In Aspen Meadows, about thirty minutes from here,” I said.

  “That’s too far out of the way.” She sighed. “You’ll just have to borrow something of mine.” She decided this with a sense of determination.

  “Really,” I said, “can’t I just wear a pair of jeans and a sweater or something?”

  “Absolutely not,” she said most assuredly. “I need you tonight, and a good wing-woman can’t go around dressed like a homeless person. You’ll scare off any of my potential dates.”

  “Gee, thanks,” I said, slumping down onto the mattress.

  “Well it’s true,” she said. “You have to look good, just, not as good as me.” She winked, bumping my shoulder as she fell in beside me.

  “No need to fear,” I told her, “I’m not looking to make an impression on anyone.”

  “Well that’s because the one person you want to make an impression on won’t be there,” she retorted teasingly.

  “Honestly, Beck.” I shook my head.

  “Speaking of impressionable people…” She mused, hopping off the bed to examine a few of the horse figurines on the dresser. “Have you talked to Luke lately?”