“It’s fine. Is she okay?”
“Yeah. I got her some water and Tylenol and put her to bed.” Calvin stepped on the gas gently.
I didn’t say anything. Instead, I stared out the passenger window at nothing. It was all a dark blur.
A few minutes down the road, he spoke. “What did Joe say to you?”
I glanced over at him. “It doesn’t matter. I told you, it was just a misunderstanding.”
Even though it was dark, I could see his jaw tighten. He swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple visibly rose and fell. Calvin shook his head.
“I knew I shouldn’t have brought him around you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? Did he do something?”
His eyes were tight just like his jaw now.
I knew I was stepping over a line that Calvin didn’t want to cross but I needed to know. Was Joe dangerous? Was I safe at that ranch? I looked at my phone again. No service.
“I really don’t want to talk about Joe,” he said firmly.
My eyes lingered on him. He focused on his driving as if he were studying for a test. It was far too much concentration for driving on an empty country road in the middle of the night. His hands gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly. I hadn’t noticed how large and strong his hands were before. The knuckles on his right hand were an angry red from hitting his brother. I knew something was off with Joe. He was like a peach whose pit had been eaten out by insects, still supple and appealing on the outside, but no substance left on the inside. How Calvin acted around him—tense, anxious, worried—confirmed my suspicions. What had Joe done? And why was Calvin keeping it from me?
Day Six
24.
Calvin
It was just after nine in the morning when I threw open the screen door and reentered the house. All the morning chores were done, feeding and watering all the animals, milking the cows, tending to the coop, and some spring cleaning. I was up by four in the morning, barely sleeping a wink. My mind kept going back to the conversation in the truck with Grace. Why had I reacted like that? Why hadn’t I opened up to her? I think I upset Grace more than Joe did because she trusted me. When we got back last night, she got out of the truck and went straight to bed without saying a word. I stood outside her door, listening. I finally went to my own room after some time—could have been minutes, maybe hours.
Surveying the kitchen, I saw the mug that I left out for Grace was still there, unused. She either wasn’t up yet or she was avoiding me. Slipping off my farm boots, I padded down the hall and stood in front of her bedroom door. It was always calling me like metal to a magnet, pulling me in. I stared for a moment, then leaned my ear against it, listening closely. It was quiet. I pressed my ear against the door harder. Still quiet.
“What are you doing?”
Startled, I stepped away from the door and turned toward Grace. She pulled an Air Pod from her ear and stared at me with those big blue eyes. Dressed in a sports bra, tiny spandex shorts, and a pair of Nike running shoes, she also wore a look of concern. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, and her chest, stomach, and face were glistening with sweat.
“Sorry. I was just checking to see if you were awake. I made a pot of coffee and wanted to see if you were hungry,” I stammered, feeling like a fool and maybe a little bit of a creep.
“I’m not hungry.” Grace was curt as she walked toward me with a blank look on her face.
“You must be feeling better if you were out for a run,” I said.
“Yeah.” She grabbed the door handle to her room and opened it. “Do you need anything else?”
I hesitated, glancing down at my feet and then back at her. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have shut you out. It’s just . . .” I paused, sliding my thumbs in the loops of my jeans.
“It’s just what?” she asked. Those big blue eyes became slits.
“It’s just Joe. I’ve been dealing with his bullshit my whole life, and I don’t like talking about him. I’m sorry, and I understand if you want to take off early. I’ll reimburse you for the whole stay.”
I locked eyes with her, trying to convey that I was serious and sincere. If she wanted to leave, I suppose I could respect that. Deep down, I actually thought she should leave. My family brought nothing but trouble. Bad things happened to us and to the people we cared for most. We were cursed. Our ranch was cursed, and our land was cursed.
“I can’t just leave, Calvin, and you know that. My car doesn’t work.” She tilted her head in a challenging way.
“I know. I know.” I held my hands up. “I’ll get someone to come down here and work on it—someone from the auto shop so you don’t have to deal with my asshole brother.”
She wiped the back of her hand across her brow.
“Fine,” she said. “I’m going to shower. If there were eggs and bacon made when I got out, I suppose I’d eat them.” Her face was still stern but her tone had a small amount of lightness to it.
I nodded as she closed the bedroom door behind her. I hurried to the kitchen to fix her breakfast. She should have left then, but I was happy she was considering staying, or at least a part of me was—the selfish, greedy side of me.
An hour later Grace emerged from the bathroom dressed in jean shorts and a crop top that showed off more than a sliver of her midriff. Her hair was tousled to the side, still partially damp. Her cheeks were rosy, her lashes dark and long, and her lips glossy. She was still making an effort to look nice for me. That was a good sign. Always a sight to be seen Grace was. I quickly put a cheesy omelet and a few slices of bacon on a plate and set it on the table beside a fresh cup of coffee. Grace took a seat and began picking at her plate while I served myself. I sat across from her and drank a big gulp of coffee.
“How was your shower?” I asked, not knowing what to say. It was a weird question, and I cringed as soon as the words left my mouth.
She chewed on a piece of bacon. “Fine.”
“How’s the food?” I asked, still not knowing what to say. It was better than the shower question.
“Fine,” she said.
I nodded and shoveled a forkful of cheesy eggs into my mouth, chewing carefully on the words she had said and not said. She hadn’t mentioned leaving, and I was scared to ask, scared to find out if she was. Grace took a sip of her coffee and then another. She placed the mug down and twirled her fork around her plate.
“I can cancel that barbecue today if you’d like,” I offered.
She shook her head. “No, you don’t have to do that.” Grace swallowed hard and her face softened as her eyes met mine. “Happy birthday, Calvin.”
It was almost like she didn’t want to say it, but thank God it was my birthday. You can’t be mean to someone on their birthday, and you can’t leave them either.
“Thank you.” I smiled.
She picked up a piece of bacon and bit into it. For a few minutes, we ate in silence. I knew she was upset with me because I hadn’t told her more, but it wasn’t the right time. Plus, I didn’t know what to say or even how to say it. Some stories were just hard to tell for one reason or another. When I was finished with my plate, I brought it to the sink. My eyes went back to Grace. She picked at her food and sipped her coffee. I scrubbed up my dishes, put them in the drying rack, and then proceeded to clean up the kitchen. I made a mess in my rush to have breakfast ready for Grace. There was dried egg on the burners and bacon grease on the counter and stovetop. When I turned around, I nearly knocked Grace over. She was standing right behind me, holding her plate and fork. I didn’t hear her get up from the table or walk over to me. She was quiet like the early mornings in Wyoming before the sun rose and the birds woke up.