by Grace Greene
She closed her eyes for a split second and then responded. “It’s a long story, Colton. I’ll explain it later. For now, Trent, you are trespassing. Leave.”
“Not so fast, Sandra.” Trent shook his head. “I’m not trying to embarrass you in front of your friend, but I happen to value the truth. Honesty and honest people.” He nodded. “I might be a little old-fashioned in that way. But that’s how it is. Someone who fails at honesty—”
“She wants you to leave,” Colton said.
“Colton, please. Don’t engage him. He must simply leave. In fact, you should take Aaron home, and I’ll call the police and let them work it out with him.”
Trent laughed. “That’s not funny, Sandra, but if I don’t laugh, I may cry. You’re breaking my heart here. What exactly do you think the police will say?”
The authorities always believed Trent. He didn’t have a record. He was confident and self-assured. He stayed cool under pressure.
“Don’t talk to him, Colton. Get Aaron and go.”
“I can’t leave you here alone with him.”
“Then let’s go inside. We’ll go in, and Trent can leave as he pleases.”
“Whoa. Hold on a minute.” Trent waved his hands. “I’m not saying Sandra and I haven’t had our troubles, but it takes two, right? Our first marriage ended in divorce, but we both got smarter, didn’t we, Sandra? We were both much smarter and wiser when we went into marriage the second time.”
Colton spoke calmly. “But that didn’t last, either. So why not do as Sandra asks? Why stay where you aren’t wanted?”
“Because you will? You’ll stay, won’t you? You two must’ve gotten real close real fast. Maybe you can explain this to me: Since when does being a friend outweigh being a husband?”
“Ex-husband,” Colton said.
Trent looked at Sandra and laughed ruefully. “We’ve been married twice but divorced once. The second marriage is still in force. Or didn’t Sandra tell you? Did she tell you she was single? Or did she let you come to that conclusion on your own?”
Colton looked confused. “Sandra?”
It was all too distracting. She felt everything she’d built in the last few days, all that was good, crumbling.
“Technically we’re still married. I left him for the second time more than a month ago. We are over, forever.”
“But you aren’t divorced? Legally separated?” Colton’s voice was quiet.
“No.” She could barely get out the word.
“Did you know she left in the middle of the night? She gave me a kiss good night before bed.” He pointed at Sandra. “I went to bed and got up during the night only to discover she’d run off.” He looked down and closed his eyes. “I can’t begin to tell you how that made me feel.”
If she hadn’t known the truth, she might have fallen for it, for his sad tales, all over again, so she could hardly blame Colton for the doubt on his face.
Aaron hadn’t stayed in the house. He approached Colton, his small face pale and his limp pronounced. Colton looked down at the boy, then back at Sandra. His expression looked like that of a man caught between bad options, with no good choices at hand.
“Do you want me to stay?” Colton asked.
Yes. The word reverberated in her brain. But Aaron continued to stand there looking shocked, so she said, “No need. Trent is leaving.”
Colton looked doubtful.
“I’m fine. Truly.” She hesitated, then urged in a stronger voice, “Please go now. Get Aaron out of here.”
Colton gave Trent a look that might have given any normal man second thoughts, but his words were meant for Sandra. “I’ll call you later,” he said.
“Aaron! Sammy!” Colton called out. “Get in the truck.”
He nodded to her as he walked past. His eyes were cold. Aaron went to the kitchen door and opened it enough to let Sammy out.
She watched Aaron limp to the truck and Sammy trot alongside him. Aaron looked back as he reached for the door handle. Colton did the same before climbing into the truck and driving away.
Trent was still there. Instead of anger, Sandra felt cold inside, an icy sensation that made her forget about actions and consequences. All she wanted was a world without Trent, and for once she agreed with him, that everything one did should be focused on achieving the objective.
“I presume you accomplished what you wanted,” she said.
“You need to get a better grip on the truth, Sandra. Not everyone will put up with your flaws and screwups like I will.”
“Leave, and this time, stay away. All I want from you is an address for my lawyer, because the next time we communicate will be over divorce papers.”
Trent had an odd expression on his face. One she didn’t recognize. He started to walk away. Then he stopped halfway across the yard and looked at her. “Why are you so shocked? You wanted me to leave, so I’m leaving. I’ll do anything for you, Sandy. Say the word.” He waited. “No? Nothing more to say? Then I’ll be on my way.” He disappeared around the side of the house.
She looked at the stacked stones for the patio, the roll of fence wire, the black metal table sitting nearby. The icy feeling inside melted instantly as panic rushed in. She ran around the house to see where Trent was. There was nothing she could do if he refused to leave or decided to return. Nothing. She couldn’t keep him out of the house, not if he decided he wanted in. Her only option would be to call the authorities and hope they believed her.
The truck engine kicked alive. He drove off down the dirt road.
Sandra went up to the front porch. She fell onto the top step, leaned against the post, and hugged her arms, feeling almost like that child again with her sick grandmother upstairs, the women tiptoeing around and Uncle Cliff due out of the woods any time now holding his bottle wrapped in a twisted brown bag and wearing his shy smile.
Trent. She could no longer avoid thinking about or dealing with him. When she left Martinsville, she’d been concerned about getting away, had discovered her mother’s welcome was limited, but it met her needs because her goal was to avoid Trent at all costs. She couldn’t deal with Trent alone. Not even to get that divorce. She had no money. She barely had clothing. Hence the constant raiding of Aunt Barbara’s drawers and closet.
What a disastrous failure her life was. What could be forgiven in a younger person was unforgiveable in someone her age, someone who should have learned from prior experience.
Some people learned. Some were destined to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. Unfortunately, it was clear which one she was.
Sandra wanted to hide in the house. She didn’t want to run this time. It wouldn’t matter if she wanted to run because she had nowhere else to go.
Halfheartedly, she returned to the storage room. She pulled out some items, but the interest wouldn’t stir, and finally she sat on the sofa, grabbed a pillow, and curled up around it. Honey lay on the floor alongside her, and they slept.
Sometime later, the phone rang, waking her. She grabbed it without thinking.
Colton said, “Sandra?”
“Yes, I’m here.” She sat up, pushing away the pillow.
“You’re OK?”
“I am. He left right after you did.”
“You mind if I drop over later to talk?”
“I’ll be here.”
An hour later, Sandra heard Colton’s truck. She waited for him to knock, but he didn’t. Finally she stepped outside onto the porch. He was sitting there alone.
He was dressed in his usual blue jeans. He wore boots, but not work boots. These looked more like dress boots, but well worn. His shirt was blue and flattered his eyes and hair. She congratulated herself on not bursting into tears. Or offering self-serving excuses. She just waited.
Colton reached up and scratched his head. His burnished hair was orderly and unruly at the same time. He said he’d lived a wild life for a few years, until Aaron’s mother showed up, had her troubles, and left him with her child to raise. Sandra h
ad an idea that Colton had been pretty popular with the women.
He leaned forward and tapped one boot on the wood plank. “Why didn’t you tell me about Trent?”
“That I was still legally married?”
He nodded.
She leaned back against the railing rather than join him on the bench. “Because I didn’t want to discuss him.”
A momentary expression of confusion touched his face. “I get that you might not want to tell me about him. I don’t like it, but I can understand. But the story about Honey’s rescue . . . it wasn’t true. Don’t you think the truth matters?”
“It matters, but some things matter more.” She held up her hand. “You don’t have to question me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Trent brought himself into the conversation, so I guess it doesn’t matter now. If I’d told you he helped rescue Honey, then I would’ve had to talk about him. If I’d told you I wasn’t officially, legally single, then again, I would’ve had to talk about him. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell you about him. I simply and absolutely didn’t want to talk about him, say his name, or think about him in any way. Is that plain enough?”
Colton spread his hands as if to ask another question, but then placed them together and interlocked his fingers. Hooked together, they looked like one huge fist to Sandra. He studied his interwoven hands for a moment, then nodded.
“I can respect that. Not wanting to speak about someone from your past. Wanting to keep him in your past. And maybe it’s not my business, but I thought it might be. I thought you might want it to be. Maybe I assumed too much. If I misread the signals, I’m sorry. I’m out of practice, I guess. But I’m a big boy, and I can deal. Aaron’s different. He’s vulnerable.” He stood and brushed his hands together. “Let me know when, if, you decide you want to discuss him and what’s going on between you two.”
“Nothing is going on between us. Nothing good anyway. I want him to go away.”
“You married him twice.”
“I’ll get the second divorce as soon as I can.” The words sounded brave. Braver than she felt. “What did you tell Aaron?”
“That you used to be married to him and still have stuff to work out.”
“Had,” she insisted. “We’re done.”
“Did you tell Trent that?”
She stood, feeling stunned. “What do you mean? I left him twice.” It sounded ridiculous and humiliating. “I told him to leave and stay away. You heard me yourself.”
“Women can say things like that when they get angry. Men, too. Next thing you know, they’re making up. It’s not a good place to be when you’re caught in the middle. I’ve been there, and I know.”
Fire rose in her. “You have no right to say that to me.” She struck the porch rail with her fist. “What is it with people? Why do I have to justify my choices? My actions? No one’s blaming Trent, and he wouldn’t care if they did. It’s always on me. My mistakes. I’m either overreacting or making too much of something, or I’m condemned because I didn’t speak of it sooner. People are so—”
“Stop, Sandra.” His voice dropped to a lower tone. “Stop before you say what you can’t take back.” He paused, then added, “If you want me to leave, say so.”
She stopped, and her anger evaporated immediately. The fire had been only a flare, protection for her sore spots. She covered her face, sighed heavily, and said, “It’s instinct, I guess. Either an instinctive reaction or a conditioned response.” She ran her fingers through her hair, remembering. She’d come so far. She didn’t have to start throwing bombs as soon as things got tense. The person who deserved that treatment was Trent, and she never fought him outright. Why? Because she was afraid of him. Her family and friends deserved at least as much courtesy out of love as she gave Trent in fear.
“As far as Trent goes, I’ve told him we’re done. I’ve told him that if he trespasses on this property, I’ll call the police. I’ve been clear, but I can’t make him believe it if he refuses.”
“Sounds clear to me.” He leaned forward. “Don’t be so hard on yourself or others, Sandra. Human nature can be messed up. It’s not your fault.”
She shrugged. True was true, but it was still hard. “Thank you. Trent has a home and a job in Martinsville, so hopefully he’s on his way back there. If not, I’ll deal with it then.”
Colton moved to the stairs. “Give me a call if you want to talk.” He paused midstep. “Do you feel safe here?”
“From Trent?” She rested her hands on the railing. “He wants me back. My sanity is at risk more than anything else.”
“Have you talked to the sheriff’s department?”
Sandra frowned. “And tell them what? That my husband followed me here?”
“He’s trespassing, isn’t he? You said it yourself.”
“He is.”
“That’s against the law. Also consider an order of protection. The sheriff’s office can give you some information about that, too. Look, Aaron’s at the house alone, so I’ve got to get home. If you need a place to stay, let me know.” As he reached the truck, he called out, “And keep your phone charged and on your person. In case.”
She nodded.
Was he really ready to take in another needy woman? At least this one didn’t come with a child. She smiled. Besides, if there was danger, it was to her, and bringing it to Colton’s house and to Aaron didn’t seem reasonable. But she bit her lip and didn’t say the words aloud.
He’d done the gentlemanly thing—he’d offered, had seemed concerned—but in the end, he left. She was still on her own.
Sandra stared down Shoemaker Road as far as she could see. Beyond the bend in the road, anything could be happening, and she couldn’t, wouldn’t know. For the moment, assuming Colton hadn’t run into Trent’s truck on his way out, things were quiet for now. She needed a plan.
This was really between Trent and her, and only she could solve it. Bottom line: she’d been clear with Trent, but she couldn’t make Trent believe her. It wouldn’t matter if he did believe her. Trent did what Trent did, and he’d do it for as long as he wanted to. That was his bottom line.
Mom and Dad had paid for her college until she dropped out to get married, and then they paid for the wedding. Four years later, when she left Trent, they paid for the attorney for the divorce. The real break between her and her parents came when she told them she and Trent were giving it another try.
Why a second try? She didn’t know how to explain it in a way that didn’t reflect badly on her. She couldn’t find a decent job? She was tired of living on her parents’ charity? Trent was so charming and strong, and the laughing personality that had attracted her before was back? She saw what she wanted to see and what he wanted her to see. They promised each other that this time they’d do it right. But they hadn’t. It went south quickly. It killed her to admit a second failure for all the world to see, and so she left, running in the dark of night. And she didn’t call ahead. Thinking the words was hard enough. Saying them aloud to someone, anyone, was too humiliating and a testament to her lack of courage. Yet another failure.
Somewhere along the way, she’d picked up the habit of living with fear and personal paralysis.
After tossing and turning for hours, and occasionally falling asleep only to wake in fleeing nightmares, she stood at the window and observed the night. The moon highlighted the patio area below. The pallet of block, the bags of sand. The end of the roll of fencing.
There was no movement out there. Not even an opossum. Behind her, Honey whimpered on her bed pillow. Sandra gave her a quick look.
Dreaming. Maybe she was having nightmares, too.
Alone again? Colton and Aaron had been temporary anyway. Friends. Maybe friends again one day. But Sandra had a job to do. Help was nice, but she also could do it on her own.
The hardest work had been done. The rest, Sandra could manage. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t see Colton or Aaron again anytime soon, and if they did show up, hopefully it wo
uldn’t be to retrieve the stone and fence materials, because she needed them.
Sandra started with breakfast. Fueled, she went out to build a patio. Honey wanted to come out, too, so Sandra tied her leash to the stake in the shade. She stood facing the work area and tried to remember what Colton had said about laying the block.
The stone blocks were rough and heavy. Her DIY manicure was doomed.
Sandra laughed, surprising herself.
Her mom had said she was no good alone. Trent said many times that she failed at everything. They’d both been right thus far. Maybe it was Sandra’s turn to be right. However that looked. Maybe her “right” wouldn’t look like theirs, and that was perfectly fine.
She pulled back the tarp and used the rake to smooth the sand, while envisioning how to place the stone blocks.
Block by block by block—each stone was heavier than the one before, and her back protested. She stood and stretched, then went back to work. Halfway through, Honey barked, and Sandra accepted that as a signal for break time.
She refilled Honey’s water dish and brought out food, too. Sandra moved their stuff to the other side of the oak, where the shade was denser. They faced the back woods, and Sandra was content not to be looking at the construction project for a few minutes. She sat in the chair next to Honey. Honey’s eyes were bright, and she was moving well. The dog sensed she was being watched and left her food to come nuzzle Sandra’s hand. Sandra returned the favor with a scratch around Honey’s neck. Her heart moved despite herself.
“You’re a good girl, Honey.”
A squirrel shook a branch somewhere up above her head.
“So was I, Honey. A good girl. Look where it got me.”
In the fringe of the woods, bright specks caught her eyes maybe thirty feet away from where they sat. She thought it must be mica in the soil picking up glints of sun-dappled light. She waited, watching for it to recur, and saw a patch of tan moving among the trees. A deer. A doe, surely. Near her a spotted fawn moved, and then two more. Triplets. Sandra didn’t breathe or move. All things considered, this was pretty cool. Slowly, she reached over and placed her hand on the dog’s back. “Be still, girl.”