at first got some serous freaking side-eye. Then I figured it would make sense for him to have a shower in the office, right? Thinking about the odors he would pick up working cattle on a hot summer day made me nearly gag.
His wet hair was swept back and as black as sin. His eyes a startling deep blue against a fresh spot of color on his strong cheekbones. His flat stare migrated to the small table pushed up against the wall. Over the two place settings of mismatched plates and cutlery. Sky blue asters I’d bought at the supermarket sprouted out of a glass Coke bottle in the center of the table. The snow had thawed enough for me to rummage out back and I’d found it amongst a pile of discards: a rusted red wheelbarrow, a weathered wood planter, shovels, and old chicken wire. I’d also discovered a relatively new four-wheeler in a small attached shed.
My make-believe husband frowned. This was not looking good.
“I made dinner. I hope you like risotto.” I’d taken special care to julienne the squash and zucchini angel hair thin. I’d even added a touch of nutmeg––something I’d freestyled. After all the years of following cookbooks, I’d finally started putting my own personal touches on my favorite recipes. What was inconsequential to most people was a big deal for someone as structured as this girl.
Before he could speak, or more specifically decline, I filled one of the bowls with a chipped rim and held it out for him. Scott took one look at the zucchini risotto I’d lovingly slow-cooked, stabbed it with his fork, stuck it in his mouth, and said, “It’s missing something.” After which he marched into his bedroom and emerged ten minutes later dressed in dark jeans that hugged his ass like they were custom made for him and a white dress shirt that played up his tan––no doubt meant to make all the women in the county fall back with their legs spread apart. All with the exception of his wife.
My stomach sank.
“I’m going out,” he announced, avoiding eye contact.
One day into the marriage and he was already ditching me. “Is that a good idea?” I asked, voice trained low in a desperate attempt to hide my rising anxiety. If the press caught wind of this, they would “out us” as frauds immediately. “I mean…technically we’re supposed to be in the honeymoon stage.”
His indigo eyes met my brown ones without a shred of remorse in them. “Probably not.” He shrugged and jammed his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. “Then again, I’m known for my bad ideas.” Grabbing the dusty blue pickup’s keys off the counter, he stalked to the door. But he wasn’t done. Nope. Right before he stepped over the threshold, he made sure to give me one last swift kick in the teeth. “Don’t wait up.”
As the door shut behind him, I wondered if clowns were common in this neck of the woods.
Sydney
He’d told me not to wait up and I hadn’t. Not the first night, not the second, not the third, and so on and so on. Once again, sandwiched between his big hairy beasts, I’d slept like the dead and awoke early, ready to hold my daily video meetings with New York. The dogs stank to high heaven––a condition that was going to be remedied as soon as Amazon shipped the dry dog shampoo I’d ordered. The inflatable mattress was lopsided. The sheets scratchy. And yet I couldn’t remember getting a better night’s sleep. Despite the odors, particularly their feet which strangely smelled like Doritos, I even adored Romeo and Juliet. Partly because they were the only company I had, and partly because they were the sweetest goofballs.
All in all, I was beginning to enjoy the quiet. The stillness. It wasn’t the forced kind I’d learned to use as a safeguard against the beatings, but rather the type the soul craves. Somehow, Jackson Hole had readjusted my axis. Here, I was an alternate version of myself, an unscripted one who could relax for more than sixty seconds.
“Don’t let him get to you. He’s just a surly kinda guy.” Laurel’s tone was genuinely sympathetic. “He don’t mean nothin’ by it.”
It was the day of our lunch date and I’d gotten a super early start that morning. Which was followed by yet another cold shower. The furnace hadn’t been fixed either. And as always, Scott was already gone when I woke up so I couldn’t