“I believe I’m hungry,” said Grace. “Could you please pass the mashed potatoes?”
Food was practically my aunt’s first religion, and every dish she served got baptized in gravy she made from bacon grease. She handed the bowl to Grace, her lips drawn into a frown that said she hadn’t given up yet.
After the most awkward meal of my life, I volunteered to do dishes by myself. I polished every plate and cup until it sparkled, in an attempt to give Grace and Aunt Emelia the time they needed to air their differences.
Only when the arguing died down did I grab the key ring of the Black Beast. In the living room, Grace wore a peaceful expression, while Aunt Emelia wrung her hands.
Aunt Emelia fidgeted as I came in, then looked back to Grace. “I just think a little religion might make you feel a lot better.”
“I really appreciate the concern, and I know you are trying to help, but I feel fine. I’m fine.” Grace looked like I felt every time I said I was fine.
I held up the keys. “It’s getting late, and Grace and I have to work tomorrow. We should probably get her settled in at the motel.”
Emelia sighed and crossed her arms. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Grace followed me out into the chill New Mexico night. I stopped by the Black Beast, a Ford pickup manufactured sometime before Abraham Lincoln, or possibly before Father Abraham himself. “It’s not far to the highway. The Big 8 isn’t high-class, but it’s low-cost, and last time I was in town, the ice machine still worked.”
“I’m good almost anywhere.” Grace ran one hand along her hair self-consciously. “About that drugstore.” She walked toward the rental car.
“Orting’s. It’s on Main. We’ll drive over to it first.” For just a moment, it felt like a normal conversation. The kind I’d have with any woman. If I talked with women. I never remembered the mindless conversations in the evenings, and the morning after was often embarrassing.
By every right, the evening had disaster marked on it. Aunt Emelia drugging me. Grace knowing about the nightmares. Aunt Emelia and Grace arguing about religion.
But what worried me most was how easily I’d returned to this world, this life.
It felt almost normal.
GRACE
I can do this.
I could do anything for field pay, I told myself. Even tolerate Aunt Emelia’s attempts to inject gods I neither knew nor needed into my life. When I agreed to come, I’d thought putting up with the legendary Brynner Carson would occupy all my patience. Thing was, I couldn’t tell if the legends about Brynner were myth or mistake. Here, he was just Brynner. Or “boy.”
And his family, their fierce loyalty and drive to protect one another made me jealous in so many ways. I followed Brynner in our rental car, all the way to the drugstore. I’d forgotten smalltown life, where everyone knew everyone. The attendant took one look at me, realized I was a stranger, and gave me a suspicious glare. But then Brynner walked in behind me.
She took one look at him, and her face lit up. Forgetting me, she rushed over to shake his hand, asking to see his BSI badge, wanting his autograph. Wondering if he remembered her. He smiled and nodded. “Tamara, right? You went to Benton, a few classes behind me.”
Her eyes widened, and she pulled her mouth into an expression that said she was either happy or hungry. The way her eyes darted back and forth, the nervous tremble in her fingers as she tapped the counter, even I could tell.
He’d done it again. With that easy personality, projecting trust and confidence, I had no doubt the other rumors I’d heard about him were equally true. How he never slept alone, regardless of where he was.
Once I’d gathered a few basic toiletries, a cheap T-shirt labeled “Bentonville,” and a pair of sweatpants closer to my size, I checked out, while Brynner waited for me by his truck.
“Do you work with him?” asked Tamara.
“Yes.”
She looked out the window. I could’ve handed her my yogurt punch card instead of the BSI credit card. “What’s he like?” I took my bag once she’d rung it up. “You tell me.” Outside, Brynner leaned against the grill, his gray BSI jacket zipped all the way up. “You look tired. We’ll have you set up in fifteen minutes.”
“Your drugstore sells clothes and power tools.”
“And ice cream. Don’t forget the souvenirs for people who accidentally get off the interstate. Welcome