I don't Believe in Happily Ever After, by L. A. Keller
Part 8
“I gave up on happily ever after. Maybe I'm
not cut out for a relationship. Maybe, I just don't like being committed to one
person for longer than two weeks.”
=================================
Clare stood
in the drive waiting to see if Wyatt would return. Her answer came when the
porch light was turned off. She didn’t like to admit when she made a mistake
and, in fact, she believed she rarely did. But this time she realized she had
gone too far. What did she care where his wife was? As much as she tried to avoid it, the thought
pierced her heart that perhaps Charlotte’s mother had died and now, with his
father on the brink himself, her behavior had been selfish and inappropriate.
She
couldn’t face Mae and didn’t know how to make things right. She stopped on the
side of the road and called Richard, her fiancé. He managed crises every day
and she felt sure he would advise her but her call went to voice mail. She sent
a text and waited for his response.
Clare considered
that she hadn’t spoken to him since the office meeting on Thursday morning.
Even though he knew she would be out of town for the weekend he had opted to
stay at his own apartment that night. At first she thought he was being
considerate since she planned to leave early but now she wondered where he
might be. His cell phone was always on and never out of reach. Thoughts she didn’t want to consider
flickered through her mind.
Sure, he
hadn’t wanted to plan the wedding, despite rushing her into the engagement, but
they had both been on edge since the deal was signed for the new account. His
byline continued to be that they made a perfect team and she had agreed. Now, having
spent the evening with the McClintock’s she felt as if something was missing.
This was the longest relationship
she’d had except for the three years she had a cat. Even the cat eventually
wandered away to greener pastures, having preferred the company of one of her
ex-boyfriends to hers. To the cat’s credit she had neglected it on more than
one occasion when work kept her at the office until the wee hours.
She tapped out another message to
Richard asking him to call her as soon as he could and put the car in gear.
Instead of turning into Mae’s drive, she continued straight into town. Her
first mistake had been to leave wine off the shopping list. She planned to
rectify that situation and then she would have to face Mae.
Hillbilly haven, Clare nicknamed the place when she left for college. The main street had one stop
sign, there was no movie theatre and the most excitement it saw was when the
carnival came to town. Some may have called it charming or quaint but she felt
suffocated and had picked a college across the country to put it as far in her
rear view mirror as possible.
With
everything closed for the night except the End All Bar, which featured a weekly
fish fry and live country music, or the diner she opted for the bar. The cake
she nibbled at the McClintock’s rolled around in her stomach crashing against
the whiskey and leaving her suddenly light headed.
She parked
and entered the smoky bar. She felt fortunate to slide into an empty
seat at the bar as the band tuned up for their first session. She realized she
hadn’t told Mae where she was going and guilt made her call. The home phone
rang five times and finally was answered by a mechanical voice which said the
farm was closed for the evening but to leave a message and someone would call
back when the rooster crowed. She left a
message hoping Mae was okay and simply had gone to bed.
Suddenly
famished, she ordered the fish fry and another whiskey but this time in a tall
glass with soda. By the time the food arrived, she had slurped down the drink and was
ready for a second. The band was surprisingly good and after a few cocktails,
she felt her toes tapping to the beat and remembered the two-step lessons her
grandfather had given her.
Still no
call from Richard, and tipsy she was ready to kick up her heels when someone
tapped her shoulder. She spin her chair around and stood up into the rock solid
chest of Wyatt. She thought she was supposed to be angry or maybe it was him
who was angry with her but the whiskey had dulled her senses and she leaned
into him.
“What the
blazes are you doing? Mae’s frantic.”
Clare hiccupped
and then burped loudly. “Do you remember when we had that burping contest and I
won?” She giggled.
“You’re
drunk. I’m taking you home.”
Wyatt
grabbed her bill and threw down some cash on the bar but Clare was quicker and
twirled out to the dance floor.
“Come on
and show me what you got mister” she called.
“I’m not
playing here. Let’s go.”
“Nope, not
going anywhere until you dance with me.”
Wyatt
grabbed her purse and without giving Clare enough time to escape picked her up
the same way he had his daughter and tossed her over his shoulder in a
fireman’s carry. He pushed out the door and dumped her in the bed of his hay
filled pickup truck.
“You’re a
jerk Wyatt McClintock and no fun at all.”
“And you’re
a drunk and a snob.”
Before she
could climb out, Wyatt hopped in the cab and took off, sending her flying into
a bale of hay and a sneezing fit.
∞∞∞∞
It was
bright in the bedroom when Clare opened her eyes. Her head pounded like a herd
of cattle and her mouth was as dry as Oklahoma after a drought. She drained the
glass of water by her bedside and sat on the side of the bed until she was sure
her stomach wouldn’t send her dashing to praise the porcelain master. She
smelled like two day old fish fry grease and her hair was plastered to her scalp.
Mascara smudged under her eyes and her nose felt stuffed with cotton balls.
Gingerly
she tiptoed down the hall to the bath to shower off the hangover. She couldn’t
remember the last time she had been drunk. She was normally in control but
everything about this trip was upside down and threatened her beliefs.
She heard
voices speaking softly in the kitchen when she came out with a towel around her
head and her mother’s old bathrobe wrapped around her body. The smell of bacon
was both delicious and nauseating at the same time.
Mae sat
drinking a cup of coffee with Sheila and the conversation halted as soon as
Clare entered the room.
Clare
poured a cup of coffee and slid into the chair across from Mae.
“Granny, I’m so sorry about
yesterday. I may have gotten carried away but…”
“Stop right there Missy. Either you are sorry or you aren’t. No excuses.”
“I’m sorry.” Clare bit her tongue
to keep the second ‘but’ from escaping.
“That’s fine. We’ll start this
visit over fresh as soon as you are dressed. There’s lots of chores to be done
today and we’ve wasted half the morning.”
Sheila stood, “I need to get back
to John. Good to see you’re okay Clare.”
Clare could feel the flush of heat
from her toes to her face. She had worried them all and made Wyatt leave his
little girl and sick father to look for her. It wasn’t like her to cause
problems – she was a fixer.
She nibbled at the breakfast Mae
had left warming in the oven and dressed quickly. A check of her phone showed
no messages from Richard but four missed calls from Mae and one from a number
she didn’t recognize but guessed it was Wyatt.
Humbled she followed Mae around the
barnyard, tossing hay to the miniature animals, gathering eggs from the
henhouse and clearing out manure from the stalls. By the time lunch was ready, her allergies
were in full force leaving her eyes red and swollen and her nose stuffy.
This is not how she planned this
long weekend to go. She needed to regroup and figure out a better tactic to
accomplish her goal. Doing chores at the farm was not the way to convince Mae
to leave. Somehow this had all gone badly off course and a feeling was tugging at the edge of her mind that she was missing something obvious.
Happy Trails,
Leslie
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