I Don't Believe in Happily Ever After by L. A. Keller

Part nine of the short story installment picks up where we left off.  I'm including part eight in case you don't want to re-read it.


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 fiancĂ©. 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 vaguely remembered Wyatt bringing her home and tossing her onto her bed. Whispered conversations between him and her grandmother about the state of her life.

            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.




Part 9


“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 kicked off her running shoes at the back door of her grandmother, Mae’s house. She winced when she thought about how much she spent on them but the fabric absorbed manure like a sponge and there was no way they would ever come clean. She figured she may as well throw them out, along with all her plans for this weekend. Hours of chores around the farm had worn her down more than all day client meetings.

Mae hummed a tune as she prepared their lunch. Clare knew she had been guilt tripped into paying penance for her bad behavior the day before. She groaned at the memory of Wyatt tossing her into the back of his pickup truck like a moldy bale of hay. Try as she might, she didn’t have the energy to be angry at him but she also wasn’t ready to give up on her mission.  One way or another she would get her granny to see the sense in selling the farm and moving to the city where Clare could take care of her.

Mae set two plates on the table with a pitcher of iced tea.

“You did good, child. With a little more practice you could take over this place someday.”
“Granny that is the last thing I ever want to do. I have a great life in the city and remember I’m getting married.”

“Since you brought it up, I have been wondering about this fiancĂ© of yours. How come he didn’t come with you? If you plan to be his wife I would think he would want to meet your family first.”

“Richard just made partner at the firm so he’s extremely busy. If you come back with me we’ll have plenty of time for you to get to know him.”

“As you have seen, it’s extremely busy around here too. The garden and the animals need tending every day. Wyatt and I have projected profits for the next quarter so I won’t have a spare minute to gallivant around the city.”

“About this deal you have with Wyatt…” Clare was interrupted by a knock at the front door.

“Hello, is anyone home?” A man’s voice called.

Mae jumped from the table, sprightlier than Clare had seen her. She hustled to the front of the house, leaving her cane beside the table. Clare could hear whispers and then Mae returned escorting a gentleman of advanced years. Despite the temperature, he wore a brown jacket, polka dot bowtie and khaki pants.

“Clare, this is Professor Herman Ross. He’s helping me with the business plan for the farm.”

Clare tried to hide her shocked expression as she stood and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Ross. I didn’t realize my granny was taking a class.”

“There’s a lot about me that you don’t know.” Mae snapped. “Would you like to join us for lunch, Herman?”

Herman tugged at his tie and fidgeted. He glanced at Clare and shook his head. “I came by to drop off my comments about your last draft. I’m sorry but I forgot your niece was coming or I would have called first. We can go over this another time.”

Clare suppressed a smirk. What professor made house calls to deliver a paper personally? There was more to this situation than her granny was letting on. A battle of emotions waged a war inside her. Who was this man to her Granny so soon after her Gramp’s death? Why didn’t she come to Clare for help with a business plan? The last question was obvious since Clare made no secret of the fact that she wanted the farm sold and Mae to move. All the changes happening right under her nose made her lose her appetite.

“I’m not that hungry after all.” Clare stood and dumped the rest of her lunch into the trash. She marched out the back door, letting it slam behind her. She knew who was behind this. It had to be Wyatt sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong—again.

She stuck her feet back into her smelly shoes and stomped to the barn. She felt her anger threatening to turn into tears. Everything was all wrong. This was supposed to be a happy trip to spend time with her grandmother, the end result being Mae would gladly pack a bag to move in with her.  Mae would be part of the wedding planning and then they would all live happily ever after. Thinking about her wedding made her wonder again why Richard hadn’t returned her calls. A feeling whispered by her but she swatted it away like a fly.

Clare stood before the dainty Palomino mare and absentmindedly scratched her ears. She loved the velvety soft feel of her muzzle as the horse searched her for treats. A deep sigh escaped her and she felt weeks of tension release. If only life could be this simple. Why did everything about the farm make her question her choices?

Until she came here, she had been blissfully content with her life. Everything was on track. She was engaged to a handsome, successful man. She had friends to enjoy happy hour cocktails with on Thursday nights. Her apartment was professionally decorated in neutral tones. In a couple more years she would be a partner at the advertising firm and then maybe she and Richard would have a baby. Clare bit her bottom lip. Had she and Richard ever discussed a family? Surely he would want children.

Clare dug her phone out of her pocket, checked for missed calls and found none. Richard might be on the golf course today. He said it was all about making connections on the course but, she knew he loved the thrill of competition. He loved winning more than anything. Maybe even more than he professed to love her. Another thought crept into her mind despite her effort to push it away. She and Richard had worked together on the projects which ultimately garnered the partnership for him. He claimed to have shared the credit with their superiors but much of the ideas were hers. Had he sabotaged her career in order to advance his own? Was the proposal his way of diverting her attention?

Clare was so deep in thought, her suspicions making her heart pound in her chest, she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her until it was too late.

“Well, well. You don’t seem any worse for wear. I thought you would still be in bed nursing a hangover.”

Clare jumped and startled the mare who bolted to the far side of the pen with a snort.

“No thanks to you, Wyatt McClintock! You tossed me in the back of your pickup truck. Where I come from that is no way to treat a lady.”

“Where you come from is right here and a lady wouldn’t have acted the way you have since you’ve been here. You had Mae worried sick.”

Clare’s face flashed with heat in the knowledge that his words rang true. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to admit she had been wrong. She opened her mouth to speak her mind just as her phone rang.

“Richard, I was starting to get worried about you.” Clare stepped away from Wyatt. She didn’t want him to overhear her conversation.

“Sorry darling but I’ve been tied up with the Alderman project.”

“I thought that wrapped up a week ago.”

“Oh yes, did I say Alderman? I meant the Anderson project. It’s new so you wouldn’t know about it.”

“You’ve put in some very late nights not to be able to return my calls. I thought one of the perks of making partner was that the associates could do the legwork for you.” She tried to sound lighthearted, but it came out whiny.

“You know me, always a team player.”

Clare suppressed a snicker. Richard was anything but a team player. “I was hoping you could come to my gran’s place. You still haven’t met her and she’s asking about you. We’ll be planning the wedding soon so wouldn’t this be a great opportunity to get to know what’s left of my family?”

“I’m way too busy to drop everything to visit a farm in the middle of nowhere.” Clare held the phone away from her ear as Richard’s voice got louder.

“We should at least pick a date so I know when the farm should go on the market.”

“I can’t discuss this now. I have to go. We can talk when you are back.”

Richard hung up before Clare had a chance to object. She turned to see Wyatt staring at her.

“Trouble in paradise?” he asked.




Happy Trails,

Leslie


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