Tight Knit

by Shaya Crabtree

  “It’s part of who I was,” Kerry said simply. “It’s part of who I am, I guess. It happened. It’s either talk about it and joke about it or pretend it never happened, even though everyone already knows it did. The former works out better.”

  Kerry Redshaw was another victim of the Perry gossip vine. She seemed less bothered by it than Lara was, though. Or maybe she was just better at using her coping mechanisms to mask her true feelings.

  “Besides,” Kerry said. “I can’t feel that weird about it. Everyone has to live with the awful legacy of their parents. What weird shit did your folks get up to?”

  Lara thought and blanked. “Nothing. It was never about my parents. It was always my grandparents. Well, grandfather on my dad’s side. He liked to drink. Not Kool-Aid.” Lara tried to joke as casually as Kerry had. It didn’t feel natural on her tongue, but it got a chuckle out of Kerry.

  “Yeah, I heard. That kid he killed would have been my cousin like eighty times removed or something.”

  Lara’s blood ran cold.

  “What?” Her voice came out in a whisper. She hadn’t meant to say anything. She wasn’t sure if the word had actually come out of her mouth or if her throat had constricted enough to make it feel like she was speaking when she wasn’t. Her hands were paler than usual where they weakly gripped her cup.

  “It’s alright.” Kerry scrambled to comfort her, swiftly reaching out and placing a hand over hers. It lingered for only a moment, just long enough to let Lara know that she was there. “I mean, it’s awful, but I wasn’t born yet, and I didn’t know him or anything. We probably would have talked to each other like once a year and forgotten each other’s names all the time. I’ve got a big family. It’s part of the religious cult thing.”

  Lara’s grandmother had talked about meeting the boy’s family, about how sad they were, and how sad her grandfather was, and how fucked-up the entire situation was, but Lara had never thought she’d have to meet them herself. She’d never thought about how someone else—a whole family of other people—would have had to deal with the repercussions of her grandfather’s actions, just in a different way than Lara did. A worse way than Lara did.

  If Lara had felt bad before, she felt horrible now.

  “Still, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. Or apologize. It wasn’t your fault that your grandpa drank too much.”

  It wasn’t Lara’s fault. At least Kerry got that. Most people didn’t.

  Lara felt the blood rush back into her fingers. The furious pumping of her heart was harsh but soothing in its own way. “Yeah. No one in my family drinks anymore. Not even wine or a beer with dinner. I guess that’s one good thing that came out of it all. We learned from his mistakes.”

  “I was thinking of taking you out for drinks later, but I guess that’s off the table?”

  “Yeah, bars aren’t really my scene. I don’t think I’d ever be able to show my face in one without the bartender knowing who I am and knowing who my grandfather was. They probably wouldn’t even serve me.”

  “Hey, no worries. We’ll find something else to do.”

  Kerry stared off into the distance, and Lara stared down into her cup. It was empty, and it felt like deadweight in her palm. But then Kerry snapped her fingers together. “I have an idea. Come on.” She stood and dusted the hay off the back of her jeans, so Lara did the same.

  Kerry grabbed her hand and guided them through the maze of the pumpkin patch so easily it was like she had designed it herself. Soon the pumpkins gave way to fields and the fields turned into a dirt trail through a thin tree line, obviously the boundary between farms. While the nature was beautiful, the further they went, the less there was to see in terms of public attractions. Still, the walk was nice. Kerry was a couple inches shorter than Lara. She hadn’t grown much since high school, but neither had Lara, who was short in her own right. She’d spent so much time in her life looking up at people like Paige, who towered over her, that it felt welcome to tilt her head down to make eye contact with Kerry.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Up there.” Kerry pointed to the tree line, and Lara didn’t know how she’d missed it. Laced amongst the branches of the thickest trees was a tree house so big that it might as well have been a tree palace. A roped bridge of wooden planks connected several housing compartments like train cars on a rail. It was a whole village of tree houses, and Lara could only imagine the high-society squirrel families living inside.

  “How’d you find out about this?” Lara asked. They were so far out of the way, she never would have guessed this was here.

  “They used to let people up here. Then some kid broke his leg, and they deemed it too dangerous.” Kerry made air quotes and rolled her eyes.

  Lara eyed the structural integrity. It was fairly shoddy. Surely it had been nice when it was originally made, but now the exterior was muddy and worn, and the ropes of the bridges looked as frayed as an old cable. It was still the nicest tree house Lara had ever seen.

  Kerry put her foot on the first rung of the ladder before Lara could protest. “Are you sure we should be going up there?”

  “Of course. It’s perfectly safe.”

  “Didn’t you just say it was unsafe?”

  “Only if you’re a five-year-old who thinks wearing a T-shirt with monkeys on it gives you the power to swing between tree branches without falling.”

  Kerry scampered up the rungs, all ease, no hesitation. Carefree as a child.

  “Come on up!” she shouted when she reached the top. She leaned over the railing and beckoned Lara closer. Lara had a sneaking suspicion that it would be best to keep their voices down. She followed Kerry up, if only so she would stop making so much noise.

  The view was incredible. Clandestine Orchards was bigger than Lara could have imagined, and from up in the treetops, she could see everything the place had to offer. Children scurried around the pumpkin patch, carrying gourds like ants carrying crumbs to their hill. The entrance gate extended for several yards with a beautiful Gothic fence design. The barn where Kerry had bought them apple cider was lit up like a lighthouse. Even the apple orchards were beautiful with their careful planning and intricate organization.

  “I know your family was shitty, but it must’ve been nice to grow up around here. Thanks for showing me this.”

  “They weren’t completely shitty, just mostly. “ Kerry shrugged. “But, yeah, living out here was one perk, I guess. Hey, you can judge for yourself if you want. We can go meet my family right now. I’m sure they’re not busy.” Kerry swung her feet off the porch of the tree house, ready to climb back down.

  “I know we’re lesbians, but isn’t it a little soon for that?” Lara asked.

  “Not at all. They’ll hate you. It’ll be fun.”

  Lara guffawed. “Did you miss the part of the conversation when I told you it’s basically my life mission to get people to stop hating me?”

  “You’re the bad girl. It’s hot.”

  Lara had never been described as either of those things by anyone at any point in time. “So I’m basically the equivalent of the stoner high school dropout that you’re only dating in order to get back at your parents?”

  Kerry shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that’s the only reason, but it is a nice bonus.”

  “Call me old school, but I like to make a good impression when I meet my date’s parents for the first time.”

  “I don’t think you’ll ever get to meet my parents, then.” Kerry quickly added, “It’s not the Spellmeyer thing. It’s the gay thing.… And the Spellmeyer thing. Just a little bit.”

  “Figures.” Kerry’s family didn’t even like their own daughter. Lara didn’t expect them to be sympathetic to the Spellmeyers either.

  “Seriously, though,” Kerry said. “Today’s been fun. I want to do this again sometime.”

  “I don’t know how many abandoned tree houses we’re going to be able to find around t
own,” Lara joked.

  Kerry elbowed her side. “I didn’t mean this specifically. I want to take you out again.”

  Lara wanted that too. This was far from the worst day she’d had in the last month. Looking out over the tree line, Lara’s bubble didn’t feel quite so small. “It’s a date.”

  She sealed the deal by placing a kiss on Kerry’s lips.

  CHAPTER 9

  Lara had never heard Paige knock before. Not on her door, anyway. The sound actually threw her off guard as she brewed tea in the kitchen.

  Her first instinct was to scold Paige for forgetting her key, but then she remembered that she didn’t have one. Lara wanted to shout “come in,” but the door was locked. She had to abandon the kettle on the stove to let Paige in.

  Paige wore a beanie and a jacket that Lara had never seen before. She looked familiar yet unfamiliar, like Paige’s long-lost twin or a coincidentally identical cousin raised on the other side of the world. That gap-toothed smile was the same, though, and it never faltered.

  “You gonna invite me in, or are you going to keep staring at me?”

  Lara could feel herself blush, but if she tried hard enough, she could blame her red cheeks on the rush of cold air suddenly passing through the doorway.

  “You’re not a vampire. Just come in.” She gestured for Paige to enter and closed the door behind her.

  As Paige discarded her bags and removed her hat to reveal a flowing head of brown curls, Lara averted her eyes. In a corner of the room, Rocket peeked his head out from his favorite sleeping spot behind the couch. He observed the scene for a moment and watched Paige shed her winter clothes with wide eyes, taking in the sight of her in a way Lara that wouldn’t let herself indulge in. Slowly, he crept forward on silent, white paws. Lara expected him to bolt for the kitchen or the bedroom or anywhere away from Paige, the way he did with all of Lara’s guests, but he didn’t. Instead he pranced steadily forward, gaining momentum with each step until he was fully rooted at Paige’s feet and pawing up at her leg. He gave a questioning meow, and she returned the greeting with a gentle coo.

  “Rocket!” Paige reached down to pick him up, and Rocket actually let her. He relaxed into her grip, and Lara could hear him purring from several feet away. She tried not to feel betrayed. Rocket was always a stubborn thing—even Lara couldn’t pick him up for more than two seconds without receiving a face full of claws—but here was Paige cradling him like a baby.

  “Did you miss me, buddy?” Paige’s cute baby voice almost made Lara a little less bitter. Almost.

  Rocket purred his confirmation.

  “Yeah? Do you miss Roll too?”

  “Oh, God. Are you still calling Cosmo ‘Roll’?”

  “Of course I am. She’s fat and tan like a bread roll.” Paige punctuated the explanation by jiggling the pool of fat around Rocket’s stomach. “Plus she’s Rocket’s sister. They’re Rock and Roll!”

  Lara shook her head. “This is why I didn’t let you name the cats.”

  “That cat is all I got in the divorce. Let me call her what I want.”

  “Don’t say ‘divorce.’” Lara groaned. “We weren’t married.”

  “It’s a figure of speech. And a joke. Lighten up.”

  The easiest way to get someone to not lighten up was to tell them to lighten up. Even Rocket seemed offended. Finally, he’d reached his attention apex. Ungracefully, he flopped out of Paige’s arms and landed with a dull thud on the hardwood. His seat behind the couch was quickly resumed, and he set about licking his paws and running them across his ears where Paige had touched him.

  With the absence of Rocket’s purring, Lara noticed another sound: the hissing of the kettle. “Shit.” She raced to the kitchen and pulled the pot off the burner. Paige followed her.

  “’Bout set off the fire alarm with that one,” Paige joked. Her eyes shifted to where the alarm hung on the wall. Its face was open, and its empty guts were displayed for all to see. “Or not.” She sauntered over to the wall and quirked her eyebrows questioningly after glancing pointedly at the batteries on the counter.

  “There was…an incident. Asparagus…” Lara waved her hands in the air fleetingly. The story didn’t matter, and she didn’t particularly want to remember her disastrous cooking efforts or the conversation that had taken place at the dinner table after that.

  “Glad to see you didn’t become a four-star chef while I was gone. At least I’m not missing out on that.” Paige picked up the batteries and fit them into their slots. The alarm beeped with signs of life, and Paige closed its lid. “There. Good as new.”

  “Do you want some tea?” Lara asked. The water made bubbling sounds in her ears as she poured it into her morning mug.

  Paige scrunched her nose. “Do you have coffee?”

  Lara stared pointedly at the empty coffee pot. “I mean, I have it. There’s none made at the moment, and I’d prefer not having to make some when I’ve already made tea.”

  “Come on, I got you coffee last week.”

  Bribery. Low blow. Paige’s pleading pout reminded Lara of Rocket pawing at her slippers every morning to get her to fill his food bowl. “I didn’t ask you to get me coffee.”

  Paige groaned.

  “Come on, you used to like tea.” Lara fiddled with the string as her tea steeped, and Paige eyed the wet tea bag as if she had never seen anything more disgusting in her life.

  “I didn’t like tea,” Paige said. “I drank it because my doctor told me it would help with my stress and anxiety.”

  “And are you still stressed and anxious?”

  Paige looked away. Her shoulders peaked in a half-hearted shrug as she crossed her arms. She looked as nervously guilty as Rocket did every time he knocked something off a counter.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Paige huffed and uncrossed her arms. “Fine.” She drew the syllable out as wide as her steps toward the cupboards. When she opened the cabinet door, she was greeted with nothing but empty shelves.

  “Did you break all the mugs and forget to replace them?” She took it upon herself to search every nearby cabinet, finding nothing but almost empty shelves. Lara had been using the same single set of utensils every day. It was easier to wash one bowl as soon as she was done with it than it was to unpack all of her cookware. “I get that you live alone and you don’t have a lot of visitors, but I know there were other mugs and plates in that set when we bought them.”

  “I didn’t break them,” Lara said. “They’re in the bedroom. Hold on, I’ll get you a cup.”

  “Hold on” meant “don’t follow me,” but Paige either didn’t have the social skills to pick up on that or didn’t have enough courtesy to care.

  “You keep your dishes in the bedroom?”

  Lara’s footsteps echoed with Paige’s in the hallway. Her bedroom door creaked open ominously. Letting Paige see the mess that was her life wasn’t exactly on the agenda, but there was no avoiding it at this point. “Sorry about the clutter. Watch your step.”

  Paige danced around a rogue box as she entered the room, then let her eyes shift from box to box. She analyzed the scene like a connect-the-dots portrait. “This isn’t clutter,” she said after a moment. “You’re moving again.”

  She could tell that Lara was planning to get out of here for good. Again. Lara could tell by the flash of worry in her eyes and by the way her lips pouted into a quivering frown.

  But why was Paige so concerned? She certainly hadn’t cared this much when Lara had walked away from her the first time.

  “Not for a while,” Lara said. “I came back for my grandmother. She got sick. They originally gave her a year, but now it’s only six months.” A lump formed in her throat.

  “I’m so sorry,” Paige said. “That sucks.”

  “Yeah. So I’m only back until…” Lara couldn’t finish the thought, but she didn’t have to.

  Paige was silent for a moment before she said, “It hurts just as much when people leave you while you’re
alive, you know.”

  The insight caught Lara off guard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You left me to run off to Oklahoma City.” Paige’s words played into their typical dynamic, but it was clearly a muscle memory reaction. Lara could tell she wasn’t in the mood to fight. She was still sad, visibly disappointed. Although, why she cared about Lara leaving was impossible to guess. “And why do you want to leave at all?” Paige continued. “The rest of your family will still be here.”

  Lara wanted to get away from Perry, not her family. She’d call them. She’d come back to visit.

  “I haven’t been happy here since…” No. She’d be damned if she was admitting that to Paige. She wasn’t about to give her more ammo in this fight. “I’ve been happy in Oklahoma City.”

  “How do you know you’ll still want to go back in a year? You know what they say: ‘We all go looking for paradise, then we go back home.’”

  “That’s an Ani DiFranco lyric.”

  “So what?”

  Paige had some nerve—and Lara was laying more of her soul out than she needed to. “So when is your vacation in Perry ending?” she asked, sarcasm coating her tongue. “You must be eager to get back home to OKC and leave this place behind if you believe in that philosophy “

  “And leave Perrydise?”

  Lara rolled her eyes at Paige’s shit-eating grin.

  “Right now I like it here. I like my friends. I like my job. But maybe someday I’ll go back,” she said seriously. “Maybe we’ll be neighbors in the same apartment complex.”

  God, Lara hadn’t even thought about both of them ending up back in Oklahoma City. Lara could move away from her family and her coworkers and her city, and it all felt so easy. But when it came to Paige, Lara felt like she could never escape her. Even after they had broken up, it felt like she’d been haunted by Paige’s ghost. Locks of brown in her hairbrush. Photo albums full of their couple photos. Memories attached to places they’d visited during their college days. Paige had always been there somehow. Reconnecting with her now felt like Lara was finally giving up trying to fight the inevitable. If Paige ever did fall off her Perrydise kick and move back to Oklahoma City, they probably would end up being neighbors. Lara wouldn’t put the universe past that.