Page 64 of Life, Love, and Other Messes

Her hand reached south. “No, you.”

The moment the light was out, Ollie leapt onto the foot of the bed, his cue to curl up. I was horrified. “Oliver Jeffrey Travis, get down!”

He hopped right down the other side, like he was just passing through, then gave me an injured look. Thankfully, Lisa started laughing.

“’Scuse me.” I opened the drawer on her side, worked a yak cheese chew out of the bag, and threw it down the hall. “There you go. Bring it to your crate.”

Lisa stared at me. “You have dog treats in your bedside table.”

“Well, for situations.”

“You gave him a…” She held up the bag and wrinkled her nose. “Yak chew…Yuck…To occupy him when you and Veronica went at it?”

I slid the bag back in the drawer and closed it. “Veronica and I usually went to her place.”

A smile spread across her face. “How old are those yak strips?”

I shrugged. “A girl’s got to have some privacy from time to time.”

Lisa rolled over on me and buried her face in my breasts. “So hot. Your dog has a middle name,” she added, “but you’re still so damn hot.”

Lisa left around noon with a kiss and a reminder that I could do this. I waited until one thirty to pack, knowing that if I took Ollie to boarding at two, I would get to Saulsbury right at dinnertime, not any earlier. What was I going to wear? Nice pants? A dress? The mention of the country club in the invitation implied to everyone that this was at least a semi-formal event. I finally decided on a dress, nothing fancy or as cute as the one I’d worn for the wedding, just so Mom wouldn’t read me the riot act and seethe about me looking like the big bad lesbian I was.

My drive was uneventful. The weather was good, and there was surprisingly little traffic for the day after Thanksgiving. I supposed that most people who had traveled were staying with their family or friends through the weekend. Normal people who actually wanted to be there. Or people who were stuck with it like me.

Yes, this was a big deal. The jeweler on Main Street always personalized their sign to congratulate couples on engagements or give birthday wishes to employees, and that day, it read Happy 50th Helen and John. Small-town life was different, that was for sure. By the time I pulled up outside my parents’ house, I was neck-deep in my usual bad attitude.

1991

Mom’s last bible study class finished an hour after youth choir did. The main office was locked by then, but the director let me stay in the choir room afterward. I felt safe there until one day the December I was twelve years old. I was waiting for Mom to take me home, working on math, minding my own business, when the door burst open.

“There you are.” Jackson sounded as if he’d been searching for me for months. He probably had.

“Here I am.”

He jumped up the risers to where I was sitting and looked over my shoulder. “What’re you doing?”

“Homework.”

“Well, that’s boring.”

I shrugged. It was, but it was necessary and I didn’t need to agree with him.

He reached down and snapped my bra. “Your titties are even nicer now.”

I wanted to die. “Shut up.”

“There’s lots of room in here. We could do the wild thing.”

“Just leave me alone, okay?”

Jackson jumped off the risers and came down with a flat-footed thud. I thought for a second that he was going to leave, but he went to the piano in the corner and started picking out some rudimentary tune. I tried to concentrate on my math again and pretend he didn’t exist, but in another minute, he was in front of me again. “Dare you to go out to the barn with me.”

It was dark out and I wasn’t about to go anywhere with him anyway. The old barn at the back of the property was falling down and creepy and probably full of rats. “Hell, no.”

“Are you scared?”

I was scared sitting right there in the choir room. “No, I just think you’re disgusting.”