by Davis, Alexa
It was safe to say that losing her really did rip out my foundation from underneath me. I never thought that I would be able to stand up again, but I guessed that in a way, I had. Of course, I wasn’t the same man I was back then – and I didn’t think I ever would be – but I had to be proud of the fact that somehow, I was still going.
As the preacher finally started to speak, I settled back to listen to him, trying to imagine Shelley was by my side for just one more time. This was one of the only places where I really felt her presence still, which maybe was the reason I kept coming. I missed her; of course I did. When we married, I never thought that I would have to live without her.
But I was looking forward to the future, as well. There were big changes ahead of me, which I was really excited about, and the fact that I was still a young man didn’t escape my knowledge, either. Every now and again, it was easy to believe my life was almost over, especially when I considered retiring, but the fact that I was only thirty-six meant that I still had a whole lot of living to do. I just needed to do it in the right way.
While everyone else filed out of the church, I hung back for a few seconds, wanting to bask in God’s glow for just a little while longer. I also didn’t want to get wrapped up in any parking lot chit chat and I knew from past experiences that this was the best way to do that. I stayed in my pew, with my eyes closed, just allowing myself to feel everything.
“Roy Larkin?” I heard a voice speaking, which caused me to snap my eyes open. There I found the preacher looking back at me with a curious expression on his face. “Oh, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your prayer.”
“It’s fine, you didn’t interrupt everything,” I tried my best to reassure him. “Please, take a seat.” I didn’t mean that, I was only saying it to be polite, but he decided to take a seat, anyway. “That was a great sermon today.”
“Thank you, thank you; it’s nice to see that you still come here. I appreciate it.” He smiled at me, but there was something behind his gaze, something that made me feel a bit nervous. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like whatever he said next. “You know, I am here if you would ever like to talk. I know that you’ve experienced a lot of trauma in your life, and if there’s anything I can ever help you with—”
“No, that’s okay, thank you,” I interrupted quickly, knowing that I wasn’t ever going to want to talk about my wife’s death with this man I barely knew, however much of a good listener I was sure he could be.
“I do appreciate it though. Erm… I better get going now. I have a lot to do at the ranch.” I’d been trying not to think too much about the interview I had looming over me today because it made me feel really anxious, but it was better than being there. “Thanks again.” With that, I shook his hand and made my way outside, needing the fresh air.
That was absolutely exhausting; just that short talk that scooted around the outskirts of what happened with Shelley left me drained. I felt like I really needed a rest before I did any more speaking, so the second I got through the door, I ran up the stairs two at a time, with Tank close behind me, to lie down on my bed. My head was thumping, my emotions all over the place, and I needed a time out.
But as I lay my head on the cool sheets and tried to calm myself down, I found myself wanting to think about Shelley just that little bit more, so I turned onto my side and I grabbed the framed photograph of her that I kept in me bedside table drawer. At one point during my grief, I had stored all pictures of her away because I couldn’t bear to look at her face, but this was the one that I’d always kept to look at when I needed to. It was a close-up of her face, and she was giving me that sweet side smile that she always did when she had a cheeky thought in mind.
As I stroked the image of her cheek, I remembered how she was when she was well: fun, outgoing, full of life; then I recalled how things hit her when she was sick. Even as she grew frail and sick, she didn’t lose herself, she didn’t succumb to depression. She simply remained inherently her right up until the end. Even when Doctor Turner, the local doctor, told her to get plenty of bed rest, she wouldn’t. She felt like she had too much to do. And even when the specialists at the hospital told her that she needed to take it slowly, she couldn’t. It wasn’t until the very end, when she didn’t have the energy to move, that the illness started to take her away from me, and that broke my heart to see.
Witnessing the woman who filled my life with laughter and joy falling apart, seeing her a shell of her former self – it killed me. I prayed a million times that I could take her place, but of course, there was nothing that could be done. Our paths had already been decided.
I jumped up quickly and shoved the photograph away as I noticed a stray tear rolling down my cheek. I knew that if I started crying about this, I wouldn’t be able to stop and the chances were that June would be on her way soon. The last thing I wanted was for the first woman to have really caught my eye since Shelley to see me as a mess. Especially not when I’d promised her an interview, too… Oh God, how had I managed to get myself wrapped up in that one? I never agreed to crazy shit like that; why had I done it this time?
I could just tell her about me stepping down from the company – that would be story enough.
As the water of the shower poured over my head, I allowed my mind to clear, and amazingly, I started to feel a little better. I’d faced death enough times to know that I couldn’t get too hung up on it if I wanted to continue. The easy decision was to give up and to let everything overwhelm me. It was much harder to continue fighting, which was what it seemed like I wanted to keep on doing, no matter what.
For a strange moment, I considered what it would be like to have both Shelley and June in the same room, and I could actually see them getting along really well. They were both lovely women with sparkling personalities, and although they were very different to one another, I could see them being friends. It was a shame that could never happen…
When I noticed the time, and I realized that June wouldn’t be long, I hopped out quickly and pulled on a tee shirt and a pair of jeans before moving over to the window to see if she was already on her way. As if she could sense me looking for her, my phone rang at that moment and she asked to be let inside the gate.
With that, things started to get a little real and anxiety consumed me. All of a sudden, I was really unsure of what I was about to do, even more so than before, and that had a sick feeling forming in my stomach. I tried to push that aside as I saw her car pulling up onto my land and parking outside my home, but unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
As she moved towards the front door, I forced myself away from the window and I trudged down the stairs with an icy-cold fear gripping onto my heart. You can do this , I tried to tell myself. It’ll all be all right. She’s a nice girl, she will let you say what you want to say, there won’t be any pressure. But of course, it wasn’t just the interview that had me scared. It was seeing her, too.
As I pushed the door open at her knock, with an already racing heart, seeing June again literally took my breath away. She was looking even more beautiful than the last time I saw her, which I had previously assumed was impossible. She had soft makeup that complimented her already lovely skin, her hair tumbled carelessly down her back, and she had an incredible, figure-hugging dress on that made my mouth run dry with desire.
I was aware that I was standing there, staring at her like an open-mouthed idiot, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. She had me stunned, in a way that I hadn't been in a very long time.
“Erm, hi,” she eventually said shyly, shaking me from my thoughts. “Are you all right? Can I come in?”
I could feel a blush buzzing through my system as humiliation hit. I didn’t want her to think that I was a total idiot, which was probably exactly how I was coming across. “Of course,” I stepped aside and let her in. “Sorry.”
As she walked past me, swaying her hips, I felt myself crumble inside a bit. This had already been a horribly emotional da
y, and it was about to get a whole lot worse. I just had to hope that it went well, and that I didn’t fall apart. I already felt a little too dangerously close to the edge of tears, and I really didn’t want them to fall.
Just do this, I tried my best to reassure myself. It’s all going to be fine; there’s nothing at all to be worried about…
Chapter Fourteen
June – Sunday
As I walked into Roy’s home, it hit me again how huge it was. On his massive expanse of land, it looked relatively normal-sized, but as soon as I stepped in, it was like a damn mansion or something. I couldn’t stop my eyes from looking everywhere, as if it were the first time I was seeing it.
“I really do love your home,” I commented quietly. “You’re so lucky to live here.”
“Well, I mean, it was inherited,” he told me bashfully. “I guess I could have moved at some point, especially when I made my money, but I didn’t really want to. This is just the only place in the world that feels like home to me.”
As he made that remark, it reminded me a little of my own feelings when it came to Florence. Whatever my arguments to myself were back then, it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference to my career in the long run. It was more likely I stayed because the town felt like home. I wondered what it would be like when I finally made my move to a city to work for a national newspaper. I was going to have to get used to it soon enough!
“Well, it’s very nice,” I finished lamely, feeling a little foolish for starting the conversation at all. What I needed to do was turn the conversation around to the business at hand, but I felt a little strange about doing that. Luckily for me, Roy didn’t seem to share my fears.
“Now, I know you probably want to get started with the interview, but I’m afraid that I’m going to have to set some conditions to it.” My heartrate kicked up a notch at that remark. Was he about to change his mind completely, leaving me right in the shit? What would I do if that were the case? My boss at the Gazette would lose faith in me, never mind any future employer. “You must have lunch with me.”
I had to stop the massive smile from spreading across my cheeks, plus the intense girlish need to scream in excitement. Yet again, he was blurring the boundaries between why I had to be there and why I wanted to be there, but yet again, I really didn’t mind.
“If those are your conditions,” I playfully shook my head in bemusement. “Then I suppose I can adhere to that.” At least that would give me a bit more time to relax and to get my head in order. Hopefully by the time the interview actually came around, I would be in the right frame of mind for it.
“Come on then; the grill is out on the back porch. I’ll make you some chicken…” While Roy was talking, Tank, his amazing dog who I was already head over heels for, came bounding up to my side, begging to be petted. I shoved my journal and my recorder on the side while we had a play, giving Roy the time that he needed to get cooking. Not only did I have a whole load of fun playing with Tank, the scent of the food made me ravenous.
“You have done so much cooking for me,” I teased, not wanting to neglect Roy. “It makes me feel very special.”
“You should,” he shot back quickly, giving me a bemused look. “I never normally cook for anyone. I usually get take out. Luckily for you, I have actually managed to haul my ass to the store to pick up a few bits and pieces.”
What did that mean? Did it mean that I actually was special? That I was the only woman Roy had coming over to his house? I honestly had no idea, and there was no way I could ask. We hadn't even kissed, for crying out loud; there was no way that I could dive into something as intense as that without making myself sound like a fool. No, I needed to keep all of my craziness inside…at least for a little while longer.
“So, how has your week been?” I finished lamely, delving right into small talk. “Did you manage to get a lot done?”
As he told me about the fence he was building to surround his ranch, I found myself fascinated. This was a subject that really should have been really boring, but coming from this amazingly hot guy, I couldn’t help but fall in love with every single word. There was just something so sweet about him, something that drew me in, and I felt like at any minute now, he would grip onto my heart and not let go.
Of course, I had no idea how he felt about me, not really, but if he gave me a sign, I felt like professionalism would have to go out of the window. It wasn’t every day that I wanted someone so much, and I wasn’t sure that I could turn the opportunity to be with him down, even if that was what I wanted, which is wasn’t.
“Why do you have three plates out?” I suddenly asked in a panic, imagining that someone else might be joining us for food. I was having a hard enough time getting used to the idea of grilling Roy; I wasn’t sure if I could do it with anyone else’s eyes staring at me. That might just finish me – and my precious career – off.
“Oh, it’s silly,” he blushed, making my heart yearn for him even more. “But I always make a plate for Tank, too. He isn’t a big fan of dog food, and while it’s just me and him, I can’t see the harm.”
“That’s adorable. I don’t blame you, either. He’s totally irresistible,” I told Roy, patting Tank once more. “And it must be working. I’ve never seen a better behaved dog in my entire life!”
“He is a good boy,” Roy looked lovingly at his dog, proving just how much he meant to him. He was probably more than just a pet – it was likely that he filled the massive hole that his wife had left in his life. I wanted to ask him how long he’d had Tank, but I was afraid of the can of worms that would open. “Anyway, I hope that you’re hungry because I’ve made a lot.”
As he put the chicken dish in front of me and we both dug in, I realized just how genuinely comfortable I felt around this man. It kept hitting me over and over again, and I had to keep reminding myself that up until a few days ago, we were total strangers. Now, things were totally different.
“So, tell me more about yourself,” he grinned at me, sending a flutter through my body. “I don’t really feel like I know too much about you.”
“What do you want to know?” I hated that question; it zoomed the focus too much in on me, and as a journalist, especially one who was supposed to be conducting the interview, it felt a little strange. “I… I don’t think I’m that interesting really.”
“How old are you? I feel like I should know you considering we both grew up here, but I don’t.”
“I’m twenty-six,” I replied, in my mind wondering what it would have been like had we met one another in school. I imagined Roy as the muscular, popular, loud jock back then, before he lost his wife and became a shell of his former self. I was the quiet, studious girl at the back of the class, concentrating on work. I don’t imagine we would have been friends, even if we were in the same class. “So I would have been far too young for you to pay attention to.”
“Well, I doubt you would have heard of me, either. I wasn’t very popular, to be honest,” he admitted, chuckling to himself. “But I never really cared about all of that stuff, so it didn’t really bother me.” Hmmm, maybe we would have been friends after all! “So, what makes you stay here? What’s so special about Florence, or are you just waiting for the first chance to escape?”
A few days ago, the answer to that question would have been easy, but he’d really gotten me thinking. I did like it in Florence, and I guess I felt scared about actually not being great at being a journalist. This had really brought it all to the surface, and I honestly wasn’t sure if I could cope. I wanted to, I would like to believe that I could, but it wasn’t a guarantee.
“I don’t know,” I told him. “I think I’ve spent such a long time assuming that what I wanted at eighteen is still what I want now, that I’m not really sure.” I couldn’t believe how honest I was being, but Roy simply made me feel like I could be.
“I know what you mean,” he shocked me by replying. “I always thought that I wanted to be wealthy, that I wanted to pull my
family out of poverty, but now that I am…it’s never made me as happy as I thought it would.”
So many questions filled my mind, but I didn’t vocalize any of them; I simply gazed at him for a few moments, staring into his eyes, feeling all of his emotions with him. He was hurting, confused, finding himself, and in a way, I felt like I could relate to at least some of that. I didn’t fully know who I was, much as I was desperate to, and it made me feel for a split second that we could find our place in the world together.
“I…I’ll go and wash the dishes,” I suddenly blurted, needing the break the tension in the room.
“No, you don’t have to do that,” he started, but I shook my head quickly.
“It’s the least I can do. You’ve cooked for me twice now.” He looked at me, as if he felt a little surprised that I was doing that for him, but I really wanted to. He was a nice guy, and he deserved to have someone looking after him, which I could for now.
“When you’ve done that, we should probably get on with the interview, right?” My nerves jumped at that because I wasn’t ready for it to be all business just yet. I was enjoying the time just getting to know one another more causally, but we would have to get to it eventually, so why not just get it done?
“Sure, that sounds good,” I shot him a weak smile. “And erm…thank you for doing this for me again. I really do appreciate it.”
I slowed down on washing the dishes, wanting to take my time for a moment, just to get my head together, and while I worked I could see Roy interacting with Tank in the gentlest way possible. He was so kind, so sweet with his dog that it was difficult to not fall deeper for him. How was it possible that such an amazing man lived so near to me, and I didn’t know it? I supposed that was what you got for focusing so hard on building a career. It made me neglect other areas of my life, such as this one.
“Right,” I grabbed my notebook and pen and sat at the table opposite him. “I guess it’s time; let’s do this.”