by Claire Adams
“I appreciate it,” I said softly. If she was trying to make me feel bad, she was doing a hell of a good job.
“Why wouldn’t you see me?” she asked. “All those times I drove out there to the prison. I’d sit at one of the tables in the visitor’s room and wait for you, so sure that this time, you’d come out. You’d see me. But you never did. So I had to move on, you know? I had to. I didn’t know what you were thinking. I didn’t know what you wanted.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see anyone; it wasn’t just you.”
“But didn’t you miss me?”
Had I missed her? I remembered lying there at night, not wanting to go to sleep, unable to stop the onslaught of memories about my old life, sometimes the most mundane shit: brushing my teeth, pouring a cup of coffee at my mom’s counter, driving over to Carolyn’s to pick her up. Of course, I thought about the other stuff, too: kissing her, the smell of her hair after she’d just shampooed it, the fact that I was going to break up with her but hadn’t gotten the chance, because I killed someone before I was able to.
“I did,” I said. “But I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. I thought it’d be better that way.”
“Better for you, maybe.” She was looking at me again, and it seemed like she wasn’t going to cry anymore. It seemed like maybe she was going to close this distance between the two of us real quick and give me a good slap across the face, which I deserved, and if she’d done it, I would’ve just stood there and taken it.
“I am sorry I hurt you,” I said. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“I know it wasn’t. But it did all the same.” She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. She started to say something but then stopped.
“What?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. Well, we don’t have to talk about it right now. Another time, maybe. Like I said, I didn’t come over here to make you feel bad.”
“I know you didn’t. And it’s good to see you.”
She smiled a little then, and there was something comforting about being around her, maybe because she was familiar, maybe because I knew she was someone that my mother had been so fond of. The silence stretched, with neither of us saying anything, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was, in fact, easy to remember why I had liked—okay, loved—Carolyn in the first place: she was kind and gentle and just easy to be around.
“Hey!” I turned at the sound of the voice, knowing who it was before I saw his face, and I wished that I’d invited Carolyn inside instead of standing out here where anyone could see us.
It was Ryan, who had been heading toward his own cabin, but when he saw me and Carolyn standing there, he veered over. Nothing I could do to stop him.
“Hey there,” he said, big smile on his face. He held out his hand to Carolyn. “I’m Ryan.”
“Carolyn,” she said, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Now, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I just wanted to make sure that Ollie here had invited you to the ranch barbecue tonight.” Ryan laughed. “It’s funny—Ollie and I were just talking earlier about him having someone to invite, and he said he didn’t think he’d find anybody in time. But here you are! So, it’s perfect. I was trying to tell him when you’re new to some place, you’ve just got to put yourself out there and try to be friendly. I didn’t think he was really listening to what I was saying, but I guess I was wrong!” He clapped me on the shoulder, his grin getting wider, as though he’d just done me a big favor. “I’ll let you two get back to your conversation.”
“He’s rather... forthcoming,” Carolyn said once he was out of earshot.
“Yeah, he is.”
“‘New to this area?’”
“I didn’t get into the details with him about my past. Just easier to let him think I was new on the scene. In a way, I guess I kind of am.”
“How is it being…being back?”
“Good. Strange. In some ways, it feels like everything’s changed, and in others, it feels like nothing has.”
“You seem like you’re doing all right. Although you were never an easy one to read.”
I knew that last comment was not a compliment. “I wasn’t expecting to be back here, but it’s a good thing. I don’t really know what else I’d be doing if I wasn’t.”
“So, there’s a barbecue tonight?”
“That’s what everyone keeps telling me. Looks like you’re invited now, too.”
“Only if you want me to go. I don’t want to go if it’s going to make you uncomfortable. Though any excuse to get out of the house is good. Jeff and I are still living together. Separate bedrooms,” she added quickly.
I thought about it for a few seconds. I didn’t even want to go to this barbecue to begin with, but I wasn’t about to tell Carolyn she shouldn’t go, especially since Ryan had made it sound like I was looking for someone to invite. I figured I owed her at least that much.
Chapter Nine
Wren
Ryan had said he’d come pick me up for the barbecue once he was finished with the evening chores. It didn’t dawn on me until then that it was at Wilson Ranch, and it was quite likely I’d run into Ollie there.
I suddenly felt strange about the whole thing. I texted Allison to ask her if she thought it was weird that I was feeling this way, but instead of responding to my message, she came over.
“Kids are having a sleepover at my in-laws’,” she said. “Nigel and I are supposed to be having a romantic date night, but what I really feel like doing is lounging on the couch with a couple pints of ice cream. Is this really who I’ve turned into?”
“That doesn’t sound so bad. Maybe I should just skip out on this barbecue thing, and you can come over here and we can eat ice cream and have a Game of Thrones marathon.”
“I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I bailed on Nigel for a girls’ night. So what were you trying to say in your text? You weren’t really making sense. You’re going to a barbecue?”
“Yeah. With that guy Ryan.”
“The one that has the hots for you?”
“That’s the one.”
“What’s the problem?”
“The problem is that he works at Wilson Ranch, which is where Ollie works. So, if I go to this barbecue, I’m probably going to see Ollie there, and I just feel… I don’t know, I just feel weird about it, I guess. Which I realize is stupid. I’m probably just overthinking it or…” I let my voice trail off because what I was saying wasn’t even making sense to me at this point. “I’m not attracted to him,” I said. “Ollie.”
Allison smirked. “Sure you aren’t.”
“I’m not! I just feel like I have this connection with him. The problem being that he doesn’t know about it. He doesn’t know who I am!”
“He could if you told him.”
“I know, but I still don’t think should. It just seems like it’d be better if I didn’t say anything, like it would be a reminder of something he didn’t want to be reminded of.”
“Then don’t say anything.”
“Should I wear this?” I gestured to the jeans and tank top I had on.
“Change the shirt. Something a little… I don’t know. Not so plain.”
I went over, dug through my drawers, and came up with a short-sleeved pale pink top, made of soft cotton, with a V-neck.
“Cute,” Allison said. “And maybe wear those black ballet flats with it.”
I slipped my feet into the shoes and then twisted my hair back into a messy bun, which was my go-to hairstyle for any occasion that I wanted to look slightly dressed up for but didn’t want to appear as though I’d spent too much time prepping.
“All right,” I said, holding my arms out and turning in a circle. “How do I look?”
“You look hot,” Allison said with a grin. “I’d fuck you. If I was into that sort of thing.”
Allison left a few minutes before Ryan showed up in one of the Wilson Ranch pickup trucks.
“Lookin
’ good,” he said with a whistle when I came out. “You sure do clean up nice.”
“Thanks,” I said. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“So, you been out to the ranch before?” he asked as we drove off.
“No. But I know of the place.”
I knew Garrett Wilson because he’d stop in and get a coffee sometimes, or occasionally he and his wife would come out there for lunch. I’d always liked him, but knowing that he had given Ollie his old job back made me like him even more.
There were actually quite a few people there when we arrived, more than I’d been expecting. It felt like a festive atmosphere, and I hopped out of the truck, excited.
“I brought some brownies,” I said, placing the foil-wrapped tray onto one of the picnic tables that was laden with all types of salad: pasta, potato, mixed greens with an array of sliced vegetables. There was a fire going in the pit, and Garrett was strumming his guitar while he talked with a few people I didn’t recognize.
“I was hoping you’d bring brownies,” Marie said. “I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve tried to duplicate this recipe, and I never even come close!” She peeled a corner of the foil back and pulled one out.
“Nothing like a woman who knows how to cook,” Ryan said as he walked over. He slung an arm around my shoulders. I felt myself stiffen. I waited a second and then pivoted from underneath his arm, making it look like I was reaching for a bottle of seltzer water.
“Guess it’s good I know how to cook since I own a restaurant,” I said, twisting the cap off the bottle of water.
“It’s funny—your restaurant has got the same name as our newest employee,” Ryan said. He craned his neck around. “Met him yet? Where is he? I was telling him he should show up to the barbecue tonight.”
I saw Ollie sitting near the fire, next to a woman I thought I might have seen once or twice around town before, but wasn’t totally sure. Had she come into the restaurant before?
“There he is,” Ryan said. “Oh, good, that woman he was talking to earlier actually did come. I suggested that, too.”
I looked at Ryan. “What are you, Cupid or something?”
He grinned. “Something like that. I could show you later.”
“Oh!” Marie exclaimed, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “I just remembered about something I need to go get in the kitchen. If you’ll excuse me!” She hurried off, brownie in hand.
“I think you just scared off your boss’s wife,” I said.
“Nothing to be scared of.” He was inching closer and closer. I took a big step back.
“I’m going to go mingle!” I said. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Luckily, there were enough people there that I could go off and start chatting and not have to worry about Ryan needling his way into the conversation. I talked with Susan and Tom, who were on vacation from Rhode Island. I told them they should come by the restaurant at some point during their stay and then wondered if that was solicitation or something. Maybe, but Garrett probably wouldn’t mind. I got a plate and filled it with barbecue chicken wings, pasta salad, potato salad, and a marinated veggie skewer. I drank a lemonade and talked with Marie; when Garrett broke out the guitar and started playing what sounded like the best of Pete Seeger, I sang along when I knew the words. All the while, I tried to avoid having to sit near Ryan, and I kept my eye on Ollie, who seemed to alternate between looking settled and like he might be enjoying himself, to looking completely out of place and like he’d rather be anywhere else. The woman he was with didn’t seem to leave his side, or at least not whenever I looked their way. At one point, when they were sitting by the fire, she had her head resting against his shoulder.
I went up to the table with all the food to get another brownie (the recipe was always a hit, but this batch had come out particularly excellent), and when I turned, I saw that Ollie was by himself. I moseyed on over, hoping that I didn’t have bits of brownie stuck to my teeth.
“Hey,” he said, looking surprised to see me.
“Hi there,” I said. “How’s it going?”
“Doing all right. Wasn’t expecting to see you here.” A slightly pained look crossed his face. “Not that it’s a bad thing or anything, I just meant…” He looked down at his boots and then back up at me, an apologetic smile on his face. “I mean, nice to see you.”
“You too.” I could tell he was nervous, or uncomfortable, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I was making him feel that way, or he was just feeling that way in general. It must’ve been strange to go from being in prison to being free. “You try the brownies?”
“Not yet. I’m not that hungry.”
“Well, they’re really good… I made them.” There was a pitch in my voice that I hadn’t heard before. To him, it probably sounded like I was talking normally, but I could hear the eagerness, my desire for him to like me, for our conversation to gel. I had never felt this way with a guy before.
“Guess I’ll have to give them a try then,” he said. He was about to say something else when the woman he was with reappeared.
“Hello,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Carolyn.”
We shook, and I told her my name. “Oh,” she said. “You own Ollie’s, don’t you? My sister goes there sometimes.”
“That’d be me.”
She narrowed her eyes slightly. “Interesting choice of name.” She put her arm around Ollie’s waist. “I mean, it’s a good one, for sure.”
Then the three of us just stood there, and it was about as awkward as you could get. I could see, over Carolyn’s shoulder, Ryan approaching, and I figured I better disengage from this conversation before he came over and suggested we all go out on a double date together.
“Well, nice to meet you!” I said to Carolyn. “Have a good night, you guys.”
Eventually though, I had to talk to Ryan, and as the night wore on and the numbers dwindled, it was basically near impossible to keep dodging him. Ollie and Carolyn had left some time ago, and one by one, the others said good-night. I was always the last man standing at any party or gathering, except it looked like Ryan was going to give me a run for my money. Marie and Garrett were the last two, and once the fire had burned out, they said good-night too and headed up to the main house.
So.
That just left Ryan and me.
“Are you avoiding me?” he asked.
“Of course not. I just saw some people that I wanted to talk to, is all. The food was really good.”
“I see you’ve met our newest employee,” he said. “To be honest, I’m surprised he even showed up.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
Ryan shrugged. “He seems like the sort of person who keeps to himself. Doesn’t really seem like he’s very sociable. Kind of strange that Garrett hired him in the first place.”
“Do you even know him that well?” I asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. There was a defensive edge in my voice. Ryan raised his eyebrows.
“Can’t say that I do, though I have a feeling if I tried, he wouldn’t make it that easy. Though he did look comfortable enough chatting it up with you.”
It pleased me to hear that, though I wasn’t quite sure that was true.
“He’s not friendly like you are,” Ryan said. He put his arm around me again and tried to pull me closer to him. I could smell beer on his breath.
“It’s getting pretty late,” I said. “I think I probably better be getting back home. Got to be up early tomorrow.”
“You looked so good tonight,” he said, nuzzling his face into my hair, like some sort of dog nosing through the underbrush, hot on the trail of something. “At one point, I looked over and saw the way the light from the bonfire was illuminating your face, and I just thought to myself, ‘My god, she is the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.’” His lips were on my earlobe.
I laughed and tried to push him away. “I didn’t realize you could be so poetic,” I said. “But no, I don’t want to—�
��
“There’s a lot of things I can be, if you let me—”
“I really have to go,” I interrupted. “Please, stop.”
But his grip wasn’t letting up, and he’d started kissing my neck, where I’m rather ticklish. It was mostly his arm, though, and the fact that he wouldn’t let me go. I elbowed him in the ribcage, hard, and when he flinched, I reached up and grabbed his arm and yanked him off of me. I stood up from the bench and watched him as he clutched his side and winced.
“What the fuck?!” he shouted.
“I know you heard me to tell you to stop,” I said. “Yet you seemed to keep going. Me telling you to stop wasn’t a suggestion—I meant it.” He straightened, his face a mixture of anger and pain. “Don’t even think about trying anything,” I said. “I took two years of Krav Maga.”
“Two years of what?”
“An Israeli martial art.” And I had. I’d made the hour-and-a-half drive to the nearest city, Boulder, every Sunday morning, to take a two-hour class that taught me how to defend myself. After that night in the Watering Hole parking lot, I’d resolved to learn what I needed to so I could ensure something like that would never happen again.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, it’s not like I was going to rape you,” he snapped. “You’re a crazy bitch.”
“You know, it’s hard for me to differentiate between rapists and non-rapists when the person in question doesn’t seem to have a firm grasp on the meaning of stop. Or no.”
He stared at me. I didn’t feel afraid so much as annoyed that this was the way the night was ending. I’d rather enjoyed myself, up until this point.