I release a breath. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s not nice. That’s called being kind and thoughtful.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he groans.
“And I’m not that small, by the way.”
Both brows rise in question. “Can you reach the top of the tree?”
“Well … no.”
“Go get the fucking shears, Red.”
Sigh. “Fine.”
I go and retrieve my pruning shears from the cabinet under the sink where I keep my gardening things and take them to River.
“You want anything to drink?” I ask him as I hand the shears over.
“Coffee. Black.”
“Like your heart,” I quip and then instantly regret it. “Ugh. Sorry, that was rude.”
Especially after he took me to get the tree and is now helping me with it.
He stops and looks at me. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve said worse things to you.”
Has he though? He’s said some jerky stuff but nothing as bad as that.
Turning away, I walk back into the kitchen, but guilt is prickling at me. I stop in the doorway and look back at him over my shoulder. “River …”
He doesn’t look at me, but I know he’s listening.
“I don’t think your heart is black.”
No response.
“River …”
“I heard you, Red. You don’t think my heart is black.”
“No, not that.” I turn fully to face him. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Do I have to answer?”
“Only if you want to.”
“I really don’t.”
“Okay.”
“For fuck’s sake.” He sighs and turns to look at me. “What is it?”
I feel a bit stupid now. But I started this, so I have to forge on. I rub my hands together. “Well, I was just wondering … are we … friends?”
“Wait.” He holds up a hand. “Have I just defied the laws of time and traveled back to grade school?”
“Funny.”
“I know. And, no, Red, we aren’t friends.”
“Oh. Right.” My heart dips. I bite my lower lip to stop it from turning down.
He sighs again. “I don’t do friends, Carrie.” His voice is lower now. “But, if I did, then you’d be the closest thing I have to one.”
“Oh,” I say again, brightening up. I’m biting back a smile now. Because, for River, I’d say that’s as good as an admission that we are friends that I’m going to get.
I step into the kitchen and put the kettle on. While I wait for it to boil, I let Buddy outside to take a leak and watch him from the deck.
I call Buddy back in when the kettle boils, and he trots off into the living room. I make River’s coffee and my tea and carry them back through.
I put his on the coffee table—the part that isn’t covered in Christmas tree branches.
And I sit down on the floor, Buddy at my feet, and start unwrapping the protective paper and bubble wrap from the ornaments. Then, I get the lights out of the box, untangling them, ready for hanging.
Then, River’s done trimming the tree. I help him gather up the trimmed branches and take them to the trash can outside.
We walk back in. He picks up his coffee, draining the cup. Puts it down and walks to the front door.
Guess he’s leaving.
I follow him to the door.
“Thanks for everything today,” I tell him. “I really appreciate it. I owe you big time.”
“You don’t owe me a thing, Red.” And he’s walking away, toward his house.
“Bye,” I call after him.
The only response I receive is a lift of his hand.
That is progress in itself. Normally, he’d just ignore me completely.
I shut the door and go back inside. I bend down to pick the lights up from beside the box when something catches my eye on the inside of it. Something that wasn’t there earlier.
The glass train.
I kneel beside the box. I reach inside and carefully pick it up. It’s so beautiful. Even more so than I realized.
My eyes move to the front door River just left through.
Did he …
Surely not …
But it wasn’t there before.
I know it wasn’t. I unwrapped every single one of those ornaments.
And I definitely didn’t buy it. And there’s no way it could’ve gotten in there by accident.
I gently place the train back in the box and get to my feet.
“Be back in a minute, Bud.” I pat him on the head before leaving my house.
I walk quickly over to River’s house and ring the bell.
He swings open the door a few seconds later. I notice he hasn’t even had a chance to take off his shoes.
Something catches me in this moment. I don’t quite know what it is exactly. Maybe his kindness. Or the good heart he hides. Whatever it is, it takes my words right along with it.
“Carrie, what’s up? Is the baby okay?” Worried eyes flick to my stomach and back up to my face.
“The baby’s fine,” I reassure him. “Just … the train … from the store … the one I liked. It’s in the box with the other ornaments, and it wasn’t there before.”
His face stays impassive. “Are you sure it wasn’t there before?”
“Yes. I unwrapped each and every one of those ornaments, and it definitely wasn’t there.”
“Maybe you overlooked it.”
“Even if I did, I didn’t buy it. And there is no way it got in there by accident. Unless it came to life and choo-chooed its way into my box.”
“Choo-chooed?” he echoes.
I can tell he’s fighting a smile.
I glare at him. “Yes. Choo-chooed.”
“You do realize that it’s your shoe size that’s six and not your age.”
“Har-fudging-har.”
Also, he remembered what size shoe I wear. That does surprise me. I didn’t think he’d care to remember such a minute detail about me.
“Maybe Ellie gave it to you,” he says.
“Why would she?”
“Because she’s a good person. And you bought a tree from her and a shitload of tree decorations. Maybe it was a free gift.”
It’s my turn to lift a brow. “A fifty-dollar free gift?”
He folds his arms over his chest and lifts those big shoulders of his in a shrug. “She’s a generous woman.”
Mirroring him, I cross my arms over my own chest. “Even if it was a free gift … it would be weird that, out of all the ornaments hanging in that window, she would pick out the one I loved most to give to me as a free gift—which she didn’t tell me about. That’d be one heck of a coincidence, don’t you think?”
His lips purse. “Sure. But coincidences happen every day.”
“Yeah … you’re right. I should probably call Ellie up and check with her though and also thank her.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Why?” I’m fighting a smile.
His shoulders lift. “Well, it might embarrass her.”
“Why?”
“Because she clearly gave you a gift and didn’t want you to know it was from her.”
“Uh-huh.” I nod. “But it’s also an expensive gift. One that I don’t feel right about accepting.”
He sighs. “It’s just a fucking ornament, Red.”
“River … did you buy me the ornament?”
“No. But, if I had and you were my almost friend, then I’d expect you to take the fucking ornament and not stand there, complaining about it.”
“I’m not complaining.”
Silence.
“River.”
“What?”
“Thank you. For the train. It’s beautiful.”
He grunts, and I bite down on a smile.
I take a step back from the door. “So, there’s a Christmas boat parade happening tomorrow night at the lake. Are you going?”
“No. I’d rathe
r have my teeth pulled out with pliers than go to that shit-tastic waste of time and money.”
“I’m going with Sadie and Guy. You know, my boss and colleague at the diner.”
“How fun for you.” His voice is as dry as the air.
“You should come with us.”
“Teeth. Pliers.”
“Awesome. So, I’ll see you tomorrow night. We’ll meet you there.”
“Have you lost your hearing? Or are you actually as stupid as I accuse you of being?”
“Nope.” I smile widely, showing all my teeth. “I’m just choosing to ignore you … you know, like you do to me.” I turn on my heel and start to walk away. “It starts at seven thirty,” I call over my shoulder.
“I’m not going,” he calls out.
“Seven thirty, River,” I reemphasize. “Don’t be late.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Fucking annoying woman!” I hear him grumble from behind me, and then his front door slams shut.
My smile somehow gets even bigger, and I wear that smile the whole way into my house and for the rest of the day.
Carrie
I’m just on my way back from using the public restroom—because being pregnant requires frequent bathroom breaks—when I spot River loitering by a cluster of trees.
He came.
My insides light up.
I change direction and walk over to him. His eyes turn to me, like he sensed me, watching my approach.
He’s wearing his beanie on his head, covering his hair. A black knitted sweater, faded black jeans, and boots. There’s a slight chill to the air tonight. Hence why I’m wearing a knitted hat, coat, jeans, and boots.
I come to a stop in front of him. “You came.” I smile.
“Yeah. Well, I didn’t exactly have a choice, did I?”
He did. He could’ve just not come. But I don’t point that out to him. Because I’m happy he’s here.
He came tonight because he didn’t want to let me down.
And that makes me happier than I can explain right now.
“You missed the parade though,” I tell him, pushing my hands into my jacket pockets.
“Shame.”
“I’m assuming that was on purpose?”
Amused eyes look down into mine. “You would assume right.”
I laugh softly. “It was actually a very good parade.”
“Now, I know that’s a lie.”
“Nuh-uh. I would never lie about something as important as a Christmas boat parade.” I smile widely.
He chuckles. “You’re an idiot, Red.”
“Yeah, I know.” I gently nudge his arm with my elbow. “Hey, why don’t you come over and say hello to Sadie and Guy? They’re sitting out by the lake. You went to school with Guy, right?”
“Yeah, I did. But I’d … rather not go over.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, we can hang here for a while. Or take a walk? Whatever you want.”
“A walk sounds good.”
His eyes look different tonight. There’s an unease to them that I’ve only seen once before—yesterday, when he came over to talk to me.
He was uncomfortable then. He’s uncomfortable now.
“Awesome. Let me just run over and tell Sadie where I’m going.”
Leaving River, I walk quickly back over to where Sadie and Guy are sitting in our chairs, sipping on warm cider.
“Hey.” I tap the backs of their chairs, getting their attention. “I’m just gonna take a walk with River.”
“River?” Guy asks.
“Yes. River.”
“River Wild?” Guy cranes his neck to look around me. “He’s here?”
“That’s what I said. And stop staring at him.” I move to block his vision.
“I just can’t believe he’s here. I’ve never seen him at any town function or … well, anything ever before. He’s not exactly known for being sociable.”
“Well, things change. Anyway, I just came to let you know where I was in case you wondered.”
“I’m glad he came.” Sadie smiles up at me.
I told her that I’d invited him. She seemed pleased about it at the time.
“You invited him?” Guy gives me an odd look.
“Yes,” I say slowly so as not to be misunderstood.
“I can’t believe you invited the town weirdo to the Christmas parade with us.”
Guy barks out a laugh, and I don’t like it.
He’s acting like an ass.
“I don’t see the big deal here. And River’s not a weirdo.” Grumpy, honest to a fault, a bit of a jerk, but not a weirdo.
“Well, he’s not exactly normal.”
“And what is normal?” I fire back at him.
“Not him; that’s for sure. I knew you two were neighbors, but I didn’t realize you were friends. Did you know this, Sadie?” He gives her an accusing look.
“I don’t see the issue here. So what if I’m friends with him?”
“Because he’s dangerous!” Guy exclaims.
“He is not dangerous.” Sadie laughs.
“You can laugh, but how do you know he isn’t? Crazy can be passed down genetically, you know.”
“Stop talking shit, Guy,” Sadie tells him.
“Can you please tell me what in the world you are going on about?” I ask them both.
Guy pins me with a knowing stare. “I’m talking about the fact that River’s mom murdered a policeman. Shot him dead.” He puts two fingers to his chest and mimics the firing of a gun with his thumb.
River’s mom killed a cop.
“Guy!” Sadie chastises. “You really need to stop gossiping about people.”
River’s mom murdered a cop.
“It’s not gossip when it’s factual news,” Guy says to Sadie. He looks back at me, a gleam in his eyes. “Everyone knows that River’s mom murdered her cop husband, River’s stepdad. Shot him dead in the kitchen, and River was there when it happened.”
River was there?
“How old was River when it happened?” I find my voice to ask.
Guy looks up in thought. “Like, eight or nine, I think.”
Jesus. He was just a kid.
“What happened to his mom?” I feel bad, asking these things while River is standing over there, waiting for me. But I also feel compelled to know.
“Charged with first-degree murder and got life in prison. She tried to say it was self-defense, but apparently, that was bullshit. The guy was unarmed, and she shot him with his own gun—his police-issued firearm. And she didn’t have a scratch on her.”
“Is she still in prison?” I’m quaking inside, and I’m not exactly sure why.
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “She got shanked in prison.”
“She got what?”
“Jesus, Guy, you really need to stop watching those damn prison shows,” Sadie says to him. “River’s mom was killed by another prisoner,” she clarifies for me.
“Oh. Right.”
She was killed. In prison.
Poor River.
I know his mom murdered someone—his stepdad—but she was still his mom, and he lost her in such awful circumstances. Her and his stepdad.
And I just can’t believe that River’s stepdad was a cop—that we have that connection. Not that it’s a weird connection. Lots of people are police officers. My husband was one. River’s stepdad was one. But the coincidence just feels too similar.
Not that I killed Neil. But there were times when I wanted to.
God, there were so many times when I imagined doing it. But I never did.
I wonder what happened to make his mom do that to her husband. What drove her to kill him like that?
Or maybe nothing drove her at all, except that she was just a bad person. There are plenty of those in the world.
I just can’t imagine what River’s been through and starting at such a young age.
No wonder he’s so guarded.
I feel like my heart is doubling in size for him. For the pain
he must have gone through as a child.
I’m standing here, not entirely sure what to do with this overload of information. It’s not like I can go over there and pretend like I don’t know this.
Yes, that’s exactly what I can do.
If he wanted me to know, he would have told me.
And he’s allowed his secrets. God knows I have mine.
If it were me, I wouldn’t want him to come over and dredge my past up.
I definitely wouldn’t.
No, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself and just carry on like before. Like I know nothing about his mom or stepdad.
“Okay …” I take a step back. “Well, I won’t be long.”
“Take your time,” Sadie says to me.
“Just be careful,” Guy says. “Remember, there’s murderous blood running through his veins. So, if he pulls out a gun, run like hell.”
“Not funny, Guy.” Sadie gives a disappointed shake of her head at him.
“What? It was just a joke!” Guy exclaims.
“It was the least funny joke I’ve ever heard,” I say quietly before I turn on my heel and walk back toward River, who is standing exactly where I left him.
I’m kind of feeling bad that I got him to come tonight.
I thought it would be fun.
But he looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“Ready?” I ask as I reach him.
We start walking further out, a small distance away from the hustle of people. I notice River keeps to my left, partially shielding himself from people. His shoulders are turned in. Like he’s trying to make himself smaller, which is impossible because the man is huge.
I push my hands into my pockets and kick a small rock out of the way. “So, the baby’s the size of a green olive at the moment,” I tell him, measuring the size out with my finger and thumb. Not because he’s ever asked or showed any interest in the development of my baby, but because of a want to say something, anything, and to get him talking. “And it weighs about three grams. I follow this website that charts the baby’s growth in comparison to fruit.”
“Fruit?”
“Yep.”
“And you’re currently pregnant with an olive.”
“A baby olive.”
“Olives are vile.”
“I know, right?” I chuckle, and so does he.
“So, what size will the fruit baby be next week?”
“A fig.”
“Also gross.”
River Wild Page 11