Exiting her room, she turned to find herself once again face to face with Cody. At least this time he was dressed, wearing a t-shirt with a line of crows on it that read simply “Murder” and jeans that hugged him close enough to remind her of all she had seen just a little while ago in the bathroom.
“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t know anyone was up here but me. I usually have the bathroom to myself,” he told her.
“Doesn’t it lock?” she said, sounding a little agitated.
“It does. Now that I know you are here, I will be more careful. Who are you, by the way?” he asked.
“I’m Susan. Didn’t Aunt Mary tell you my mother and I would be here this week?” she asked.
“I’m Cody, and no, she didn’t. I’ve been gone for several days, and I came in the rear earlier when I got back. I didn’t see her, so she probably just hadn’t had a chance,” he said.
“Well, just stay on your side of the hall and lock the door when you’re naked,” Susan said, not sure why she was being so rude. Sure, she had been embarrassed, but she was being an ass and she knew it.
“I will. Listen, I don’t want any trouble. I’ve had enough of that recently. Your aunt and uncle are helping me out, and I don’t want to mess it up with them before I can find my own place,” he said.
Susan softened a little bit, realizing she was being too much of a hard case. She nodded and headed downstairs, leaving him to look after her quizzically. After a few moments, he came down the stairs behind her and went to the kitchen to get something to drink while Susan went to the den where her mother and aunt were talking about Tank’s new hobby of rigging up his own fishing lures.
“There she is. How did you sleep?” her mother asked.
“Pretty good. What are the two of you doing?” she asked.
“Mary is finishing a pie for the hayride, and then we are going to head into town. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, I’m ready,” Susan said.
“Oh, Cody! I didn’t know you were home. Have you met Susan and my sister, Angela?” Mary asked him.
“I met Susan upstairs. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Angela,” he said. It seemed like a pretty informal way to greet your elders to Susan. He couldn’t be much older than she was, but she supposed her mother’s first name was all that had been given to him, so he had no choice.
“You, too, Cody,” her mother returned.
“Are you going into town to the hayride with us?” Mary asked him.
“I may go for a while, but don’t know how long I will stay. It depends on who I run into. I will just drive in separately,” he answered, taking a sip of his tea.
“I understand,” Mary told him, nodding knowingly. He left to go outside for something, and the women returned to their chatter.
“He’s a nice boy, really. It’s a shame what he has been through,” Mary said in a muffled voice to Angela. “Perhaps, he and Susan would enjoy spending some time together.”
“No fix ups, Aunt Mary,” Susan warned.
“No, I’m not trying to fix you up with anyone. It’s just that y’all are close in age and might have things to talk about is all. But you can’t deny he’s a good-looking boy,” she offered.
You have no idea, Susan thought to herself, the image of Cody’s naked body returning to her mind. It wasn’t that she was interested. She had other things on her mind, but she certainly wasn’t blind. The thought made her chuckle out loud, raising eyebrows from the other two women.
She smiled at them, and said, “I’m not blind,” sending both into a fit of laughter.
“What’s all this cackling about? Is this what I’m going to have to put up with the rest of the week?” Tank roared as he came in the door.
“The rest of your life, Tank. Get showered and let’s go to town. You smell like a smoke-filled pool hall,” Mary told him. He scowled and lumbered down the hallway to their bedroom. Moments later, they heard the shower running as he got cleaned up to go out.
The hayride wasn’t nearly as lame as Susan had anticipated, and Aunt Mary was right about the food. There was a large selection of fried chicken, wings, fresh vegetables, casseroles, and more pies than you could taste in a lifetime. She sat eating and watching a group of high school girls giggling near a fence that ran between the old fairgrounds where the event was held and the property next door.
“Those girls have no idea what life is about,” Cody said as he sat down beside her with a plate of food.
“Why do you say that?” she asked.
“Just look at them. They’re fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, at best. Their parents hand them everything, and their biggest problem is deciding what shade of lip gloss goes with their outfit. Most of them will never make it out of this hick little town, and a good many of them will be pregnant before they graduate,” he said.
“Wow, you have quite the high opinion of women,” Susan said.
“No, it’s not that. It’s this place. It does something to people. In another place, they would go to college, see the world, achieve something besides popping out a kid, but here, they see big achievement as marrying the quarterback and coming in first at the pie baking contest. It’s sad,” he said.
“So, you are a feminist then?” Susan laughed, warming up to him a bit. He spoke his mind, whether he thought anyone agreed with him or not.
“No, I’m not a feminist. I’ve just been to places where women have no rights. They can’t show their faces or make eye contact. They can’t expose their ankles or speak their mind without fear of punishment, and I don’t mean a slap on the wrists or a mere admonishment. They are stoned, beheaded, awful things that no one does anything about. If these girls could see women like that, they might be more ambitious about changing the world they live in, rather than living in a world that changes them,” he said.
“Wow, you’re right. You aren’t a feminist. You are a cynic,” Susan told him.
“I suppose I am. Hey, listen. I want to apologize again for my nakedness earlier. I’m not shy, but I know you were embarrassed. I really didn’t know anyone was up there but me,” he said.
“It’s okay. I overreacted. It’s not like I’ve never seen a naked man before,” she said, then immediately wished she hadn’t. She felt the flush run up her face as embarrassment took over once again.
“It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed. Let’s just forget it happened and be friends. It looks like we are hallmates for at least the rest of the week. If it makes you feel better, you can streak through the hallway and give me a taste of my own medicine,” he said with a grin.
“Yeah, I bet you’d like that a lot. I don’t think so.”
“Well, you can’t say I didn’t offer to even the score,” he told her, digging into his food again. They were quiet for a while as they ate and just watched the people around them. After a bit, he began telling her about some of the people in town.
“That’s Widow Stephens. Her husband died ten years ago, and she tells everyone that she just can’t imagine dating again. She’s moved her old college roommate in with her for company instead. People pretend they don’t know the truth, but they really do. She’s been a lesbian for years and only married her husband to cover it up. There are rumors that she poisoned him for the insurance money and so she could be with her lover, the woman standing nearby in the jeans and plaid shirt,” he said.
“Do you think she did?” Susan asked with raised eyebrows.
“Nah, I think it was just a stroke of good luck. He used to get drunk and beat her, probably because she wasn’t doing her wifely duties if the truth was known. One night, he got all sauced up and stumbled home in the snow. He passed out on the porch and died, a combination of alcohol poisoning and hypothermia, but people like to tell their versions of stories.”
“Lively little town when you start digging in closets, huh?” Susan said.
“Yeah, black sheep and skeletons abound,” he replied.
“What about you? Are you a black sheep?” Susa
n asked.
“I don’t know what I am, Susan. I wonder that myself almost every day. I don’t know if you’ve ever had anyone you were close to die, but it stings for a long time, and you eventually find peace with it. I just haven’t found my peace yet, I’m afraid,” he told her.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know exactly. I got shipped off to the Middle East within weeks of my father’s death, and when I came home, my mother had shacked up with some loser who thinks he owns the house my father worked so hard to build for us. I can’t accept it. I thought I would come home to my mother and she would somehow make this all better for me, but it didn’t work out that way. First, I was angry, and now, well I’m just kind of lost, I suppose,” he told her, staring off into the night.
“I know how you feel,” she replied. It was like a big nothingness swept in and covered everything she used to care about to the point that she could no longer decipher what she felt about it. It was almost better to be angry than to just feel indifference.
“I hate that for you. It’s not a good way to feel for anyone,” he told her, finishing off one last bit of pie. “You want to go on the hayride with me? I don’t really care much for it, but I’ll go and keep you company.”
“Sure. It’s something to do,” she replied.
They got up and tossed their plates in the trash before heading over to the large wooden wagon being pulled behind a shiny John Deere tractor. It smelled like hay and oil to Susan, but she had agreed to go, so she would manage. She found it surprising that she and Cody seemed to hit it off so well after their run in earlier, but she found him surprisingly refreshing. It was nice to meet a man that didn’t seem to have any secrets. She had only just met him and he had no problem talking about some pretty personal feelings.
The hayride itself wasn’t too bad, the fresh air blowing away the smell of the tractor and replacing it with the fresh air of the countryside that surrounded them. She could see why people liked to go on these, though she doubted it was something she would want to do all the time. They passed through town and then ventured out onto farmland that ran along the banks of a large stream. It was incredibly beautiful, even in the near-darkness.
“What a gorgeous place,” she commented.
“Yep. Full of fish, too. Do you fish?” Cody asked.
“I haven’t been fishing since I was little. My parents used to come down here and my dad and grandfather would take me fishing with them, but I mostly just sat on the banks and watched butterflies,” Susan confessed.
“You can’t catch fish with butterflies.” He laughed.
“You can’t catch butterflies without a net,” she told him.
“Well, if you want, we can come out here tomorrow. Old Man Hopper owns this entire stretch of land and doesn’t mind me coming here. We can fish or catch butterflies to your heart’s content,” he said.
“I don’t know,” she said, realizing she really knew very little about Cody.
“You have absolutely nothing to fear from me. Trust me,” he said as he looked over at her and Susan believed him. For whatever reason, she felt an immediate connection with Cody. It put her at ease in a way she couldn’t describe.
“All right, then. Fishing, it is,” she told him.
“Great. We’ll run by the bait shop in the morning and head out here while they are still biting. You’re going to love it!” he said.
Chapter 13
Cody was right, of course. Though she wasn’t too fond of getting up at the crack of dawn, it felt great just to be out in the open air, smelling the dew that had fallen on everything the night before. She had told her mother and aunt where she was going on the way home the night before, causing both to raise eyebrows, but neither said anything other than telling her to have fun. She and Cody crept out of the house right after sunrise, carrying a small cooler bag filled with snacks and water.
“Don’t we need fishing poles if we are going fishing?” Susan asked him on the way to his old brown Dodge Ram parked to one side of the driveway.
“Already in the back. I packed up everything last night before I went to bed,” he told her.
“I guess we’re all set then.” She laughed, climbing into the passenger’s side of the truck that he held open for her.
“Yes, ma’am. We certainly are,” he told her.
She was surprised when he started up the truck and classical music began filtering through the cab. He might look like one of those sexy farm types you see in the movies, but she was beginning to get a feeling that there was nothing stereotypical about Cody.
After a quick stop at the bait shop and a bite to eat at Hannah’s Country Crock, they were on their way to what Cody described as the best fishing hole in the world. Susan felt like she had already had a full day just eating the heavy gravy and biscuit platter they served at Hannah’s. They hadn’t even made it to their destination yet, and she was already considering a nap on the banks or in the bed of the truck.
It was a bit bumpy as he turned onto a dirt road, and then the dirt road disappeared so that they were just driving through an open pasture across holes and rocks that sent the truck jarring back and forth. For support, Susan held on to the side of her seat and occasionally the dashboard when she launched forward unexpectedly.
“Sorry it’s so bumpy. Guess I’m just used to it. We’ll be there in just a minute,” he said.
“I don’t remember it being so bumpy in the wagon last night,” she commented.
“No, we came in a different way. They took the old Bedford road around the edge of the property. This is a shortcut.” He grinned.
“Men and shortcuts,” she said with a grimace.
Cody laughed a little as he brought the truck to a stop by a section of the stream that flowed into a much larger lake and then spilled off the other side to continue winding its way through the trees just beyond. She could see why anyone would like it here. He pulled a couple of fishing poles from the back of the truck, along with the bait and a small tackle box.
“Live bait works best in this area, but I like to toss out a couple of lures here and there just because Tank made them for me and I can honestly say I used them if he asks,” he told her.
“They don’t work?” she asked.
“Not worth a damn,” Cody laughed, causing her to chuckle along with him. “He is getting better, though. You don’t just decide to make lures and do it all perfectly right out of the gate. He mostly gives them away for people to try or sells them up in the little general store in town. A lot of tourists coming into the area buy them because they look cool. Most of them are never going to actually use them for fishing, anyway.”
“I guess it all works out in the end then, huh?” she marveled, accepting the fishing pole he handed to her, though she had no clue what to do with it.
“Have you ever baited a hook?” he asked.
“No. Ick!” she said with a disgusted face.
“Maybe I’ll let you fish with Tank’s lures then,” he said with a grin as he slid a worm onto the hook already waiting on the end of her line. She looked on, completed grossed out by the entire process.
They fished most of the morning. Well, mostly Cody fished and she laid her pole to one side and hauled out a book she had brought for the trip.
“I didn’t think you city girls owned any books. I thought you all read on tablets and e-readers these days,” he told her.
“I do sometimes, but it’s not good for my eyes to stare at the screen for too long, so I mostly stick with real books. Plus, I didn’t know if y’all had electricity in these parts,” she told him, countering his stereotype with her own.
“Sassy. I like that. I actually have a nice tablet that I bought to take with me overseas. It helped me keep in touch, and I love that I can have a whole library of books in one lightweight device. I had no idea they were so bad for the eyes, though,” he said.
“Well, for normal people, maybe not. My eyes are just more sensitive since the transplant,” sh
e told him.
“Transplant?” he asked, reeling in his pole and looking at her curiously.
“I’m sorry. I just assumed Aunt Mary or Uncle Tank had mentioned it. I had transplant surgery to repair my vision. I lost it in an accident my senior year of high school,” she said, trying to keep the explanation as simple as possible.
“Wow, I had no idea. So, you were completely blind? For how long?” he asked
“Yes, completely blind for five years,” she said.
“I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you. How does all that work? Tell me if I’m too personal. I’m just hopelessly curious about everything, and I’ve never met anyone that had eye transplants,” he said.
Susan ran through the general process with him, noting how he stopped everything and listened intently. She could also see him trying to get a closer look at the stitches she was talking about.
“You can’t see them. I have on contacts that cover the little dots they left behind. It was like a little zig zagged circle around the cornea with the stitches connecting the dots, but after the stitches were pulled out, I still have the dots. The doctor says they aren’t usually as noticeable, but because my eyes are so light colored, they stand out a bit more in mine. Anyway, the contacts cover them,” she told him.
“Hmmm, too bad. I’d like to see that,” he said, cinching up his pole and heading toward the truck. “You want something to drink or a snack?”
“No, I’m still stuffed from breakfast, but some water might be good,” she replied, following him to the truck.
“I think we’re about done here today, anyway. I’m out of regular bait, and the fish are making a mockery of me for saying I catch so many here. I can’t believe we haven’t gotten the first bite. If it weren’t for the great company, I’d have to write this off as the worst fishing trip ever,” he said, handing her a bottle of water from the cooler.
“I’ve had fun. You aren’t too bad to hang out with, even if you do lie about being a great fisherman,” she said with a smirk. He feigned a dagger to his heart and stumbled back against the truck. She watched as he reached into the back again and pulled out a large butterfly net.
Dragon of Central Perk (Exiled Dragons Book 11) Page 8