Breakup in a Small Town

by Kristina Knight

  Since the flower incident, he’d taken care in his attentions to her. He’d made her favorite breakfast, sent her an African violet for her office and he’d finally built the fence. Well, hired someone to do it, but still, the idea had come from him. And without any kind of a suggestion from her.

  The idea that Adam was finally realizing what she needed from him made her insides feel warm and gooey. Like they’d felt that first time coming out of American literature class when she saw him watching her so closely.

  But Adam flirting and paying attention when things were going well was too familiar. She didn’t know what would happen if things went sideways again. Which Adam would she see then? The Adam who bought her African violets and built a fence or the man who shut her out and left her alone?

  Sheba panted in the backseat. Jenny caught the dog’s gaze and smiled, and she swore the dog smiled back. Like they had some kind of insider understanding, which was ridiculous. She barely knew the dog, though she seemed like a sweet thing.

  Was Jenny falling back in love with her husband? She’d never truly stopped loving him; she knew that. And it wasn’t that she just selfishly wanted him to do things for her. She wanted him to know her, the way that she knew him. To value her opinions and ideas the way that she valued his. He’d been her life, and she felt as if she’d been only a small piece of his.

  When he woke up in the hospital, she’d been so relieved. But instead of the tornado bonding them more closely together, it had torn them apart like it had the church. As rewarding as it was to see him regain his footing, why did he have to lose it at all? Why wasn’t she enough for him? Adam was the one who had nearly died in the tornado, but her dreams for them had died, too.

  No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much she loved him, Adam would never be the man she had known before tragedy struck.

  “Left again, and then a right on the next block.”

  Jenny cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out where Adam wanted her to go. From the directions, they would be just off downtown. Near Mallard’s Grocery and the old train station. He obviously wasn’t going to tell her, though, so Jenny simply drove.

  “Pull in here,” he said as they drew abreast of the only car lot in Slippery Rock.

  Gleaming minivans, sedans and giant trucks shone in the lot. A few of the hoods were raised, with large cardboard letters placed in them that spelled out New Year’s Sale. Since New Year’s was still three months away, Jenny wondered what kind of new year they were about to set foot in.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “Getting an estimate on the ’Stang, and getting a car that makes more sense for the family.”

  Jenny blinked, unsure if she’d heard his words correctly. He’d brought her here for a new car? But he loved the Mustang. Had rebuilt it from scraps. Adam doted on this car. He’d refused to even consider the idea of a trade-in, or getting a second car, from the moment Frankie was born.

  He opened the door, signaled the dog to follow, and started walking the lot. Jenny quickly caught up.

  “But you don’t want a new car. You want the Mustang.” This was too weird. Like he was taking her grievances one by one and tossing them out the window. They couldn’t afford a new car. Insurance had taken care of most of the hospital bills, but there was still a big chunk to deal with, and more coming down the road from checkups and the surgery for his hip. She’d been annoyed about the Mustang a couple weeks ago, yes, and she did want more of a family car.

  But this felt too much like how her father would do what her mother wanted, to appease her. Jenny didn’t need Adam to get rid of the Mustang for her. She would not be selfish like her mother, living for bridge games and gossip and anything else that was superficial and insincere.

  Jenny didn’t want to be appeased, and she didn’t want Adam to give up his favorite car. For her. That wasn’t what she wanted. Not at all. What she wanted—

  “It’s not really practical, though, is it?” he was saying. “With two kids, and now a dog. Besides, I wanted the Mustang. You never did.”

  Except she did love the classic car. The sleek lines and red color were pretty. It was fun to drive. It held a lot of their memories from high school, then bringing Frankie home from the hospital. Impractical, yes, but the car was also part of them.

  She wanted the car. Not for him. For herself. Because it was a part of the person she’d been before the tornado. It was the last physical piece of the Adam she knew before the storm and epilepsy tore their pretty world apart.

  Adam stopped before a row of minivans in different shades of blues and reds, with a couple black and gray options, too. “Now, I’ve read the ratings, and this is the most sought-after option on the market. You’ve got automatic sliders and trunk, it seats seven comfortably and even has these little hanger things on the back of the front seats that you can hook grocery bag handles through so they don’t tip over in transit.”

  She had to stop this. It wasn’t fair. Life had taken Adam away from her, had taken her dreams away. Letting go of the memories the Mustang held... It was just too much. She would make do with the Mustang, or they would figure out a payment plan for a second car. “You don’t have to do this, Adam. You don’t have to pretend you want a minivan just to make me happy.”

  “I’m not pretending, and this isn’t about making you happy. It’s about making your life easier. Tell me school drop-off and pickup won’t be better in this? Winter’s coming, Jen. We can’t walk with the boys through five feet of snow.”

  “We’ve never had five feet of snow all at once. Not in Slippery Rock.”

  “It could happen. I read that the Farmer’s Almanac is calling for the worst winter in a hundred years.”

  “The Farmer’s Almanac always says it’s going to be the worst winter ever. Adam—”

  “Let me do this, Jenny. I can’t drive the Mustang, anyway, and you hate it.”

  “I don’t hate it.” She didn’t like hauling all the paraphernalia that came with having a family in it, but that was beside the point. She could deal with those annoyances. This was Adam’s car. It was their past. Giving it up...was like giving up on everything they had promised one another in that justice of the peace office. For better or worse. She’d never imagined just how worse things could be, but that didn’t mean she gave up. Not now. Not when things were beginning to go so well between them.

  “That makes two of us, then. But you have to admit it’s not practical.”

  “I don’t care about practicality. The Mustang, it’s...it’s us. It’s our past. I lost my virginity in this car. We brought the boys home from the hospital in it.” She took Adam’s hands. “You can’t trade it in.”

  Adam squeezed her fingers and rested his forehead against hers for a moment. “The memories we have aren’t in the Mustang, they’re in us. They’ll always be in us.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Better gas mileage, more room, family friendly. You say you want to build a future. Let’s ride into that future in something more comfortable than a classic Mustang.”

  Jenny closed her eyes, trying to imagine a future without the annoyances of the Mustang. Adam kept talking, as if the trade was a done deal. “Now, I talked to Vince earlier, and he quoted me thirty grand on the Mustang. Which means we can almost buy this baby—” he smacked his hand against the hood of a black van “—outright. Smaller payment. We won’t even feel the extra bill.”

  It was tempting. Not the minivan. Jenny hated minivans more than she hated hauling the boys and all their gear around in the Mustang, and listening to them complain that there wasn’t enough room in the backseat for both of them. One of the SUVs in the next row, though, would be nice. Roomy. Terrible on gas mileage, but the thought of not having to wrestle Frankie’s football stuff or another art project or Adam’s wheelchair into the trunk was definitely tem
pting.

  Vince, a balding man who habitually wore khaki pants and plaid shirts, came out of the sales office door. He had a thick black mustache, and short cropped black hair. “I see you got her here. Are you ready to take this beautiful family van for a spin around the neighborhood?”

  “We are.”

  “No, we aren’t,” Jenny said, and put her hand on Adam’s arm. “Would you excuse us, please?” When Vince backed away, Jenny focused on Adam. “I don’t want you giving up the Mustang. We can afford two cars.”

  “What’s the point of two cars when only one of us drives?” He held up a hand when Jenny started to speak. “I will drive again, but it’s not going to be tomorrow or even next week. And when it does happen, I don’t think my doctors will agree that a Mustang is the best option. I want to do this, Jenny.”

  “You don’t have to impress me with this kind of gesture.” But it was a nice gesture, and the comfort of a larger family car would be appreciated. And Adam seemed very relaxed about the whole trade-in. He wasn’t clenching his fist the way he did when something upset him. He wasn’t talking too fast, although he’d talked over her a couple times. Jenny blew out a breath. “I don’t want the Mustang to be something we fight about when we should be fighting about something else. We can’t trade it in.”

  “This is my decision, my choice. Yeah, it’s something that is important to you, but I realized the other day that my name is the only name on the title. I can do this with or without you—I’d just rather it was with you. That we choose a car, together, that is right for our family.” He brushed his hand over her hair. “Trading the Mustang isn’t just a gesture. I’ve been listening to you, watching you. That day in the rain, I thought you’d never get the boys safely inside. And I worried about the three of you until you were home. A minivan is safer, it’s more practical. Let me do this, Jen.”

  Jenny pulled her lower lip between her teeth. He was right about the practicality. And she’d nearly lost her patience and her sanity that day in the rain. The Mustang wasn’t a good choice for a family car, but it sure was pretty. Fun to drive. She couldn’t bear to trade the pretty car in for a minivan, though. That seemed like an insult to the sporty little car.

  “You know how I don’t like cut flowers?”

  Adam frowned. “Yeah?”

  “I don’t like minivans, either.”

  “But you said—”

  “I said we needed a more practical car.” She ran her hand over the cool metal of the van and shook her head. “I meant an SUV, one of the medium-size vehicles, not the gigantic ones. Plenty of cargo room. Plenty of space for the boys.”

  Adam watched her for a moment. “You want an SUV?”

  Jenny nodded. “If it’s my choice, then, yeah. An SUV. In blue.”

  Adam motioned to Vince, who hurried over to them. “She’d like to see something in blue, in an SUV,” he said, making the salesman chuckle.

  Jenny reached for Adam’s hand and squeezed. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome,” he said.

  Jenny felt some of the heaviness around her heart lift. She wasn’t the same girl who had lost her virginity on the cracked vinyl seat, or who had been petrified at the thought of bringing Frankie home from the hospital. It was time to let that girl go.

  * * *

  NO ONE SAID anything about the dog sitting on the floor beside their regular booth at the Slope. Adam found that odd. Levi, Collin and James had had plenty to say about him finally showing up to darts. Even Aiden had joined in. But none of them said diddly about the dog now sitting beside him.

  Or the three women—Jenny, Mara and Savannah—who kept stealing glances at the table.

  Levi took aim at the board on the wall and landed a fifteen pointer. James stepped up to the throwing line next. The guys didn’t seem to notice the looks the women were sending in their direction. Probably, if this was a few months ago, he wouldn’t have noticed, either. Savannah said something, all three women drank, then Jenny went to the jukebox to slide quarters into the slot. Aiden pulled James’s darts from the wall, then crossed to the line to take aim. He landed a fast forty-five points with three darts. Obviously, darts were big in California.

  After the old Merle Haggard song—a particular favorite of Merle the bartender’s—stopped, Jenny chose another. Keith Urban’s voice filled the bar, singing about wasted time. Adam had been good at filling up his days before the accident, and although he didn’t regret the time spent with his friends or his kids, he did regret that he hadn’t included Jenny in all those things, too. Look how well Collin and James had adjusted to life with a woman at the center. Meanwhile, Adam had kept his life mostly separate—events with friends, events with Jenny. Only on holidays had his life included both, and even then he’d tried to keep those lines firmly drawn. As if the wife and kids across the yard were one entity and the friends surrounding the grill or sitting around the fire pit in the backyard weren’t at the same party.

  Why had he done that? Adam couldn’t understand what he had been thinking. His friends loved Jenny and the boys. Jenny loved the guys. The boys saw Levi, Collin and James as heroes. Why had Adam tried to keep things so separated?

  He had no answer.

  “You’re up.” Collin dropped a few darts before Adam. Aiden slid into the booth across from him.

  “Remember, you’re aiming at the round target with the numbers on it, not the wood paneling to the side,” his brother said. Adam flipped him the bird, and the guys chuckled.

  His doctor probably wouldn’t like him playing with darts any more than he wanted him handling kitchen cutlery, but Adam figured if the dog wasn’t freaking out, he could handle a little dart throwing. He slid from the booth, took aim and scored a ten. Not bad. He hadn’t thrown a dart since before the tornado hit Slippery Rock.

  Collin scored a fifteen and smirked. “Two more throws,” he said.

  Levi and James sat in the booth, watching as Adam took aim again. “About time you came out with us heathens,” said James.

  “And with a dog, no less,” Levi said, just as Adam threw. The dart went wide, thunking against the wood paneling and clattering to the floor. “Not sure what Merle was thinking when you walked in with Beulah there.”

  “Her name is Sheba.” Adam picked his dart off the floor and threw again, hitting five this time. “And she kind of goes where I go.”

  “You need her to throw for you, too?” This from Collin, who stood at the throwing line with Adam. “Because your game is off tonight.” Collin took aim and landed another fifteen score. “No way you’re coming back from that ten. And there are no second throws, so don’t even think about that five you were getting ready to write down.”

  “Second throws are valid when another player tries to distract the thrower. Rules are rules, gentlemen,” James said.

  “I don’t see any gentlemen at this table,” Adam grumbled as he handed his darts to James.

  “So what’s the deal with the dog?” This from Levi, who’d been watching Sheba off and on most of the night. “Service animal?”

  “Like an early warning system, or something,” Aiden offered.

  “She’s not Doppler radar.” Adam rolled his eyes. “But she can tell when my system is off, even before I can.”

  “So she’s like a nurse?” This came from James, who landed a twenty shot, pushing his score to the number one spot. Adam’s score was firmly at the bottom.

  Adam shook his head. “No, she’s not like a nurse. She can’t dispense medications or bandage a cut.” He caught the look James sent Levi and that Levi passed on to Collin and Collin shared with Aiden. Worry mixed with genuine interest and bit of gentle ribbing. Okay, so maybe he’d lost his sense of humor over the past few months. He took the darts and stepped to the throwing line with Collin. “She did come with a nurse’s uniform, though,
if any of you need to spice up your love lives.”

  Collin landed another fifteen-point shot. “Mine’s good, thanks.”

  Adam aimed and threw, landing a fifteen. Not enough to overtake anyone, but a solid showing for his first night at darts in over three months. “James?”

  “I carry my own handcuffs, thanks. That’s all the role playing Mara needs.”

  Collin playfully punched James. “That’s my sister you’re handcuffing, you know. And I don’t need to know about it.”

  Levi tallied the scores. James finished first, Aiden second, Collin and Levi tied and Adam placed last.

  “That’s all for me, boys.” Levi stood and tossed a few bills on the table. “Good to see you’re back.”

  “Good to be back.” Or at least making his way back. Adam wasn’t sure things would ever feel as comfortable as they had been before the tornado. He didn’t think he wanted that level of comfort, because all he’d cared about then was his routine, his schedule. Everyone else came second. Knowing he’d put Jenny on a back burner rankled.

  Levi offered a wave to the table and left. Aiden went to the jukebox where a woman Adam didn’t recognize was studying the music options.

  Collin and James caught Juanita’s attention and ordered another round of beers.

  “You’re off the night shift?” Adam asked James. The last time the four of them had been here, his friend had been working nights at the police department. Since the tornado, he’d been turning split shifts so that he could help with some of the renovation projects around town. Those were mostly finished by now, though.

  “For a while. If I win the election, it’ll be days only. If I don’t, who knows where the new chief will place me.”

  “You’ll win.” Collin sat back and sipped his beer. The women had left the dance floor, and returned to the bar and their glasses of wine. “People here appreciate your work ethic. All those split shifts, the work on the farmer’s market and the new grandstand, they noticed.”

  James shrugged. “I want to be the police chief, but it’s out of my hands at this point. Besides, I have Mara and Zeke to think about. Being an officer won’t take up as much time as being the chief.”