I knew he was only telling me this so I’d feel sorry for him. I didn’t. But why had Charlotte implied that Joe was dangerous? If he truly was, she wouldn’t have slept with him. Right? Or maybe she was that crazy. Crazy enough to sleep with a potentially dangerous man just to try to make Calvin jealous.
I grabbed the glass of water from my nightstand and took a sip. There was shame in his eyes, but there was also anger. Where was the kindness I had seen days before? He moved his hand up and down, stroking my thigh beneath the blanket, trying to comfort me—but there was nothing comforting about this.
“I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be. I’m sorry. I don’t care about any of them, Charlotte, Joe, Betty. I only care about you, and I want to make this work,” he said.
Calvin studied my face, waiting for me to say something, almost willing me to speak. Sometimes saying nothing was more powerful than speaking at all.
“I love you, Grace Evans. These aren’t the best circumstances to tell you this, but I do. I’ve fallen in love with you.” Parts of his face twitched. My silence was infuriating him, but he was trying his best to hide the anger. His best wasn’t good enough.
When I didn’t speak, he cleared his throat.
“And I don’t want you to say it back. I just wanted you to know how I felt.” He stood from the bed and walked to the door.
Before he flicked the light off, he smiled and said, “Good night, Grace.” Calvin leaned against the doorframe, waiting for me to respond. After a few moments of silence, he closed the door. But I knew he was standing on the other side. Completely still, like a statue. It was minutes before his shadow finally disappeared, his steps loud and steady, clomping down the hall. I sank deep into my pillows and pulled the covers up to my chin.
“Goodbye, Calvin,” I whispered to the dark, quiet room.
My eyes shot open when I felt part of the mattress sink in. I didn’t know what time it was. The room was pitch-black so I assumed late. An arm fell across me as I lay on my side. His body spooned me and pulled me closer to him. I considered pushing Calvin out of my bed, but I was in too vulnerable of a position. What if it brought out that anger he was having trouble hiding? I breathed in through my nose, but stopped when I noticed something was amiss. Calvin didn’t smell like Jack Daniel’s.
I flew out of bed, shouting and screaming. The lights flicked on. Calvin stood in the doorframe wearing only a pair of boxers. In bed laid Albert. He sat up, disheveled and drunk. His eyes were barely open.
“What’s going on?” Albert’s speech was slurred.
“You’re in my fucking bed,” I yelled.
Calvin ran to my side and pointed at Albert. “Get out of her bed!”
The old man looked puzzled. He shuffled out of the bed, falling into the wall just as he got to his feet. “Must have got confused.”
“Sorry ’bout that, little lady.” Albert tipped an imaginary hat and stumbled toward the door, waving his hand as he staggered out of the room. Another door creaked open and then closed with a slam.
I pushed Calvin away from me. “I want a goddamn lock on my door!”
He put his hands up and nodded. “Of course. Whatever you want.”
“He needs to leave,” I said.
Calvin rubbed his eyes. “I can’t kick him out right now. It’s the middle of the night. I’m sure it was an accident. He’s old and drunk.”
“An accident? You didn’t see the way he was looking at me.” I shuddered. “You promised I’d be safe here.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Calvin put his hands on my arms. “I’ll install a lock tomorrow and see if I can get him put up somewhere else.”
He looked into my eyes, waiting for an answer.
I shrugged his hands off of me and turned away from him, sliding back into the bed. “Close the door when you leave,” I said, yanking the covers up past my shoulders.
Calvin hesitated for a moment and sighed. “Okay,” he finally said. “Sleep well, Grace.” He flicked off the light and closed the door, lingering on the other side of it once again. At some point, I must have fallen asleep but I never heard his footsteps walk away. I think he stood there all night.
Day Eight
36.
Calvin
After tightening the last screw, I dropped the screwdriver in the toolbox and jiggled the door handle, making sure it was securely in place. I should have installed one when I started doing room rentals, but no one else ever complained—so it slipped my mind.
“What are you doing?” Grace jolted up in bed. Her hair went in all directions and dark circles clung to the skin beneath her eyes. She clearly hadn’t slept well.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” I said, getting to my feet. “I installed that lock you asked for.”
Grace stared at me, not saying a word. Her eyes blinked several times, darting between me and the newly installed lock. I figured after yesterday she had shut me out and was just biding her time here. But I still hoped I could convince her otherwise.
“Just wanted to make sure you feel comfortable.” I took a couple steps toward her and held out a silver key. “Here,” I said, dangling it in front of her.
If this is what she needed to feel safe, I’d give it to her. That was the thing about safety, you could either have it or feel like you had it, and they were the same thing—until they weren’t. Finally, she took it, clutching the key in her hand. I’m sure it felt comforting, like a security blanket does for a young child.
“I hope this makes you feel better.”
Grace didn’t say anything. She just stared at me with those blue, blue eyes. I couldn’t tell if she didn’t know what to say or if she was scared to speak. I hoped it was the former, although fear wasn’t a permanent feeling. It eventually passed. I studied her expressionless face, from her perfect pout to her soft nose and the arch of her eyebrows, but I couldn’t get a good read on her.
“I meant what I said last night.” I took a deep breath, waiting for her to say something, anything. She could yell at me for all I cared. I just wanted to talk to her. But it was as though she wasn’t here anymore. Physically, yes. But mentally, emotionally—she was gone. Maybe I imagined it, and she was never here to begin with. How could we have gone from lovers to strangers in twenty-four hours?
I looked down at my hands. They weren’t steady. I balled them up and relaxed them.
“Well, I’ve gotta go and run an errand, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I turned and headed toward the door, picking up my toolbox on the way out. I glanced back, hoping she’d say something or even look at me the way she looked at me out in the pasture before everything went to shit. Instead, she laid down and rolled away from me.
I closed the door and let out a heavy sigh. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. Somehow it all got screwed up. It always did. Standing on the other side, I pressed my ear against it. I just wanted to be near her. It was silent. I waited a few minutes but heard nothing. Albert’s door was still closed, so I assumed he wouldn’t be awake until midday, and I’d deal with him when I got back from the grocery store.
In two days, Grace was set to leave, and if she did, I knew I would never see her again. This town had a way of keeping insiders in and outsiders out. But I couldn’t let that happen. Grace belonged to me.