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 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 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 fiancé 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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