Some like It Wild
Page 23

Bob proceeds to explain to me that there is a small tract of land, deeded to the orchard but not actively used, which has quite a bit of value simply because of its situation in regards to the river and the national forest. “If you had that appraised and then offered her the proceeds from the sale of that tract as an incentive to let you and this place alone, why, I think she’d likely take that deal and run. We could have her sign away all past, present, and future rights for the amount of the sale.”
This is a sly old man. I can see it in the twinkle of his sharp brown eyes. Meeting him and spending a little time with him leaves me in no doubt as to why my parents felt safe leaving their possessions and their legacy in his hands.
Just over an hour after his arrival, Bob is shaking my hand and heading back to his car. Strangely, I’m glad he came. As much as I’d have liked to see Laney, it’s better this way. And now, there’s a plan for handling my aunt, Ellie, and possibly being completely free of her in the future.
Now if only my own future was so clear-cut . . .
TWENTY-NINE: Laney
My cell phone rings. I sigh when I look down to see Shane’s number pop up. Never would I have thought I’d be friends with him again, but when there’s no one else, sometimes a familiar face is a welcome face.
“Hello?”
“Hey, beautiful. How about some lunch?”
I sigh again. He hasn’t given up giving me the full-court press. He swears he’s going to win me back. I keep telling him I’m just not ready and that I might never be, but still he persists.
But then there’s the loneliness that plagues me . . .
“Sure. Where can I meet you?”
“I’ll pick you up at one.”
I glance at my watch. That’s about six minutes from now. “Okay, see you then,” I say before hanging up.
I sit staring at the blank screen. The office is quiet around me. Bob is hard at work trying to free Jake and his family from his greedy aunt.
He didn’t tell me until after the fact that he’d gone to Greenfield to meet with him. That was almost two weeks ago. Two weeks since my last chance to see Jake flew right on by without me even knowing about it.
Now there’s just a constant ache and an ever-present sense of melancholy that I can’t shake. It’s like nothing that used to matter is very important anymore, and nothing that used to make me happy even gets me out of bed.
My parents have called dozens of times. I always answer and chat with them, but they’re astute enough to know that something is terribly wrong. But they’re also astute enough not to make a single comment about Jake.
Other than that, it’s me and Shane and my job here. Tori is back in Greenfield. She’s my only real friend, as I hadn’t lived here long enough before my breakup with Shane to make any more. Not that they would be much help now, anyway. There’s only one person who could possibly make me feel better.
And he’s long gone.
My phone rings again, stopping me from giving in to the threat of another round of tears. It’s Tori this time.
“Thank God,” I say by way of greeting.
“I know I’m the answer to prayer, woman, but damn!” she teases.
“Today, you really are.” This time my sigh is one of relief. “You’re not in town, are you?”
I’m hoping she’ll say yes, but I’ve learned to live with disappointment.
“No, but in just a few seconds, I’m gonna be begging you to come to me instead. Why don’t you save me the groveling and just tell me you’ll come home, okay? Okay!”
I can’t help but smile. I miss my friend. “You know, simply in the interest of helping you to preserve your dignity, I think I can manage that. But just this once. I’m not a fan of missing out on begging. Next time, it may cost you twice as much.”
“Duly noted,” she says easily. “I’ll bring my kneepads next time.”
“Wise choice,” I say with a giggle. “So, what is it that is so important that you’d beg me to come home?”
“Umm, if I told you, I’d have to kill you. And I love you too much to harm one lovely golden hair, so . . . there you go.”
“Lucky for you, I don’t need much of a reason to visit you. Mind if I borrow your couch?”
“Still avoiding the parents?”
“No, not really. I just think space is a good thing. I didn’t cut the apron strings too well the first time around. This time, I’m not making the same mistake.”
“Finally! Ohmigod! Boy, this summer sure was good for you, Laney.” As much as I love Tori, and even though I’ve forgiven her for the stuff with Shane, I still haven’t really felt comfortable talking to her about Jake. At least not about how my life is like a barren wasteland without him. I haven’t told anybody that. It feels almost like, if I keep it a secret, it’ll just go away and not be this way anymore. Eventually.
If only . . .
“Yeah, I did a lot of growing this year, didn’t I?”
“You sure did. And all for the better, I might add.”
I’m glad when I hear the front door open. I’m sure that’s Shane. Just in time to rescue me from a torturous conversation about how wonderful this summer was.
It seems that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget how wonderful it was.
But sometimes I wish I could.
“I’ve gotta go, Tori, but I’ll see you home tomorrow night, okay?”
“Sounds good. Meet you here around seven. The key’s under the mat if you get here before I get home.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
“Be safe.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You know that’s right,” Tori says before making a kissing noise and then hanging up.
“Who was that?” Shane asks as he saunters through my office door.
“Just Tori.”
“Mmm,” he murmurs neutrally. “Ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say, wondering how I ever thought this man was enough to make me happy.
You didn’t really know yourself at all back then, did you?
No, I sure didn’t.
THIRTY: Jake
You still wanting overtime?
A text from the fire chief.
Hell yeah!
Keeping busy is tantamount to staying sane, but I can only stand being at the house by myself for so long. It’s not really that I’m lonely per se; it’s more that I see Laney everywhere and it’s getting harder and harder to stay there without her. To cook in the kitchen, to watch television on the couch, to shower in my bathroom. To sleep in my bed. She’s everywhere. I can’t escape her. Even when I sometimes want to.
Come on in at 6 then. 48-hour shift. May end up being longer.
I make a mental note to myself to fill up Einstein’s dispensers in the barn. Just thinking about them reminds me of Laney’s surprise that he used them.
She had been under the very mistaken impression that I just left my dog to fend for himself. She tried to cover by saying she then concluded maybe one of the neighbors was feeding him. When I told her about the system I’d rigged up, she didn’t believe me so I took her out into the barn and showed her.
The contraptions are really nothing more than levers that release a premeasured amount of food and water down into bowls, respectively.
“See,” I’d told her. “Einstein just walks up and high-fives the lever, and he gets fed and watered. There’s enough in here to last him at least a week if he’s not a total pig.”
“You’re telling me that your dog is smart enough to come in here when he’s hungry, press these levers, and get his own food and water?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
I grinned at her. She was so uptight back then. But over the summer, it’s like she opened up. Just for me. Like a flower to the rain. She needed me in order to see who she really was, to see how beautiful and perfect she was deep down, past all the outward appearances and polite ways. What she never knew was that I saw it all along. She was always perfect to me, inside and out.
I whistled and called for the dog. “Einstein! Come!” It was still early so I figured he’d be around somewhere close, probably staying cool in the shade under the house or in one of the barns.
After a few minutes, Einstein showed up, tongue lolling to one side. “Good boy,” I praised him, wooling his fuzzy, white head. “Get a drink, Einie. Drink!”
After watching me for a few seconds with his sharp brown eyes, Einstein walked casually over to his water bowl, lifted his paw and smacked at the lever, and then waited until the bowl was full to get himself a nice cold drink of water.
Laney watched the whole thing with her mouth hanging open. “That’s the smartest dog in the world,” she finally surmised.
“Why the hell do you think we named him Einstein?”
Even now, I smile when I think about her. But it’s bittersweet. It’s like having the most precious thing in the world, but yet not really having it at all.
And then losing what you didn’t have.
How’s that for a conundrum?
Back in the present, I text my boss before I get lost in the past and forget about the present entirely.
Will do. See you soon.
THIRTY-ONE: Laney
It’s Friday. And for the first time in a while it feels like Friday. That relief that the workweek is over and the fun is about to begin, that’s how it feels. Well, my version of that, anyway. For me, it means that I get to spend some time away, out of my own head and away from things and people and places that make me sad. And even though going back to Greenfield should qualify as something that makes me sad, for some reason, I’m still looking forward to it. It almost seems like just being in town again will make me feel closer to Jake.
Even to me that sounds crazy, but it’s true, nonetheless.
I let myself into Tori’s apartment. She hasn’t had it very long, but she’d been unpacking and settling in as quickly as possible, and it’s come a long way since the last time I visited.
It’s decorated in vibrant colors, much like Tori’s vibrant personality. The living room is huge compared to mine and it’s done in rich jewel tones—ruby, sapphire, and emerald. It’s anything but soothing, but I don’t think Tori really wants or needs soothing, so it fits.
I set my stuff off to one side of the kitchen and make myself a drink. When I sit down on the couch, I have no intention of taking a nap, but that’s exactly what happens.
More than two hours later, Tori coming through the door wakes me up. “What the hell are you doing, lazy ass? You’re supposed to be ready!”
“Ready for what?” I ask, trying to shake the fog from my brain.
“The party.”
“What party?”
“The party I told you about.”
“You didn’t tell me about a party. You just said it was a surprise.”
Tori stops with her hands in midair as she was taking the clips out of her hair. “Oh. Well . . . surprise!”
I roll my eyes and flop back onto the couch. “You can go without me. I’m tired.”
“Oh, no! You did not come all the way home just to crash on my couch, young lady. You will have fun this weekend if it freakin’ kills me. Do you hear me?”
“I’m pretty sure everyone hears you,” I tease, sliding off the sofa.
“Shower for you, my friend. You’ve got exactly forty minutes to wash, shave, and pamper that pretty ass or I’m taking you as is.”
I mumble all sorts of things about what she can do with a razor and a bottle of shampoo as I make my way to the bathroom.
Before I can close the door all the way, Tori shows up to press her face into the crack. “Were you giving me attitude? And did I hear a ‘up your tight ass’ thrown in there?”
Tori’s expression is comical. She’s probably never heard me say the first curse word. I grin at her. “Maaaybe.”
She squeals and pushes the door open to give me a bone-crushing hug. “Eeee, I love this new you!”
I can’t help but laugh as she darts out the door and slams it shut behind her. I don’t tell her that she’s got Jake to thank for this Laney.
* * *
“Um, why are we at the church?”
I look suspiciously through the windshield at the bright lights pouring out of the detached fellowship hall windows. Suddenly, I have a bad feeling.
“I’ll explain in a minute. Just come on,” Tori says, hopping out of the car and running around the hood to jerk open my door. “Move it, slowpoke.”
Earlier, I was curious why Tori didn’t want me wearing jeans and a T-shirt tonight. She insisted that I wear her little black cocktail dress, the one she reserves for special occasions. That right there should’ve been a huge red flag.
“What are you up to, Tori?”
I’m not sure at all that I want to go inside.
Tori takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. Even though we’re both wearing heels, she looks down into my face. “Laney, you know I love you. Please. Just trust me.”
Something in her eyes tells me that this is important to her, important to her proving herself to me like she’s tried to do for months now. That’s the only reason I go with her when she tugs me along behind her all the way up the walk to the front doors.
When we step inside, every head (of which there are literally dozens) turns toward me and everyone starts clapping. I smile uncertainly as I look around.
It looks like the cheesiest high school prom in the world is getting ready to take place. There are white streamers dangling from the ceiling, there are white silk roses gushing from vases on every surface and there is glitter sprinkled on the tables and floor.