I didn’t feel like I had won the argument though. I felt I’d lost something in Gretchen's eyes.
This was why it was better to let people think nothing of you. It doesn’t hurt to never have their respect, but it hurts like hell to lose it.
Chapter 23
Clifford
As the calendar flipped its pages toward Christmas, Suzie and I fell into a comfortable companionship. She’d flourished at The Coffee Shop with the locals. Part of me wanted to jump up and down and say, “See this is where you belong, this could be your life,” but then I’d remember that this wasn’t what she wanted. This was just a way out from under the thumb of Occum. It caused such an ache in my chest, so I didn’t let myself think about it.
But I thought about kissing her again all the time. It occupied my brain more than anything else. It was…unsettling. I never acted on it. I think my blowup on Halloween and subsequent actions had released some of the tension in me. Now I doubled down and focused on my work as much as I could while I still had grad students and a classroom. Dean Lucero and Bouffant checked in frequently as if I’d forget my goals without their reminders. No other grants had come through and the clock was ticking like the Tell Tale Heart, ever present in the back of my mind.
Thanksgiving arrived without warning. Jack was going to see our parents over the long weekend, but I couldn't leave with him. I had three grant applications to complete and two construction sites I needed to visit, but most of all, I was worried about Suzie.
Jack stood in the doorway, his overnight bag over one shoulder as we saw him off.
“Have fun in Washington.” Suzie kissed his cheek.
My blood didn't boil with jealousy anymore. It was clear any feelings between the two were different from what Suzie and I shared. I'm not sure what that meant exactly, but at least I didn't feel like an outsider around them anymore.
“Tell Mom and Dad I’ll try to visit them over the winter break,” I told Jack.
“I’ll tell them. You kids behave yourselves,” Jack said with a smile as he made his way toward Gretchen, his ride to the airport. She waved to Suzie but stopped to glare at me.
“As if I know any other way,” Suzie called out innocently.
“Right,” he laughed. “See you Sunday.”
Back inside the house, Suzie closed the door and leaned against it. “I can’t believe it’s Thanksgiving.”
“Do you need a ride to Green Valley?” I shifted.
I didn't want her to leave, but it was a holiday. I'd grown so used to talking to her every day about everything. All the little nuances that I had always thought were too much work to share with anybody else flowed easily off my tongue. It wasn't work getting to know her; it was as effortless as daydreaming.
A shadow fell over Suzie's face. She waited a beat before answering. “Nah…” her voice trailed off.
I had thought she might say more but she remained quiet. She hadn’t brought up her father since the night in the trailer. She didn’t want my judgment. It made me feel like an ass. I never wanted her to filter herself.
“Do you want to order food and stay in?” I asked.
She smiled instantly. “That sounds wonderful.”
I ordered Vietnamese and we slurped pho as we watched reruns on TV in the basement.
She pushed her bowl away and relaxed back into the couch. “Sorry I didn’t make a big dinner. The meals I cook for Daddy usually involve cream of mushrooms soup or bologna.”
“I thought I was going to be on my own. And this is delicious.”
This was as close to happy as I get. Except maybe being alone. Lately, I’d gotten so used to her company it’d be weird not to have her around. And sometimes being alone felt, well, lonely.
As much as I enjoy silence, I couldn’t ignore that something had changed in Suzie recently. It wasn’t her clothes, or flourishing vocabulary, or her new job. There was a subdued aura around her, like someone used a dimmer switch to turn down her energy. It had only been the last few weeks and coincided with her avoidance of me. Maybe she wasn’t happy here at all. Maybe I was totally wrong. Maybe this life was too boring for her. There were a hundred questions to ask. I turned the volume down on the TV.
“Do you want to decorate? For Christmas, I mean.” That was not one of them.
She looked around, the green of her eyes more than brilliant against her purple sweater. Her hair was in a long braid over her shoulder and I thought about tugging it free to run my hands through it. I settled for tucking back a strand that had come loose.
“Right now?” Her softening gaze followed my hands.
“Yeah.”
