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“I didn’t think it would be so…rural.”
“There’s a barn and everything.”
“Be careful where you walk, girlfriend. I don’t see any cows, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t hangin’ around someplace.”
“The Boo knows how to live,” one of the men said. “I should get myself a place like this.”
As Blue stepped out on the porch, the women took in her bedraggled appearance: dirty T-shirt, threadbare shorts, and paint-splattered work boots. A man with a tree trunk neck and mile-wide shoulders approached. “Dean around?”
“He’s out riding, but he should be back in an hour or so.” She wiped her dirty palms on her shorts. “I’m afraid the air-conditioning is temporarily on the fritz, but you can sit on the porch in back and wait for him.”
They followed her through the house. The porch, with its new gray slate floor, freshly painted white walls, and high ceiling, felt cool and spacious after the hot dining room. Three graceful Palladian windows set in the walls above the screening sent shade-dappled light over the wicker chaises and the black wrought-iron table that had arrived a few days earlier. Colorful cushions in soft greens punched with black lent elegance to the homey space.
There were four men but five women. None of them bothered with introductions, but she picked up a name here and there: Larry, Tyrell, Tamika…and Courtney, a tall, very striking brunette who didn’t appear to be with any of the men. Blue quickly figured out why.
“As soon as T-camp is over, I’m going to make Dean take me to San Fran for the weekend,” Courtney said with a swish of her gleaming hair. “We had such a great time there last Valentine’s Day, and I deserve a little fun before I have to face another class of fourth graders.”
Great. Courtney wasn’t even a bimbo.
The women began complaining about the heat, despite the breeze stirred up by the newly installed overhead fans. They all assumed Blue was the hired help and started asking for beer, iced tea, diet soda, and cold water bottles. Before long, Blue was making hot dogs, slicing cheese, setting out cold cuts along with every snack food in the house. One of the men wanted the television schedule; another wanted Tylenol. She broke the news to a gorgeous redhead that Thai food hadn’t yet come to Garrison.
April called while Blue was poking around in the pantry, trying to find some potato chips. “I saw Dean had company, so I detoured to the cottage. Riley’s with me. We’ll stay here until the coast is clear.”
“It’s not right for you to go into hiding,” Blue replied.
“It’s reality. Besides, Jack wants me to listen to his new song.”
Blue wished she could be at the cottage listening to a new Jack Patriot song instead of waiting on Dean’s friends.
When Dean finally appeared, everyone on the porch jumped up to greet him. Even though he smelled of horse and sweat, Courtney, who’d been complaining about the faint scent of manure, threw herself at him. “Dean, baby! Surprise! We thought you’d never get here.”
“Hey, Boo. Nice place you got.”
Dean didn’t even glance in Blue’s direction. She retreated to the kitchen, where she began stowing the perishables in the refrigerator. A few minutes later he popped in. “Hey, thanks for helping out. I’ll grab a quick shower and be right back down.”
As he disappeared, she wondered if he meant that she was supposed to keep waiting on his friends, or that he expected her to join the party. She shoved the refrigerator closed. Screw this. She was going back to work.
But before she could get away, Roshaun popped up at the door asking for ice cream. She fetched more dishes an
d cleared others away. As she loaded the dishwasher, a freshly showered Dean walked past her. “Thanks again, Blue. You’re the best.” Moments later, she heard him on the porch, laughing with his friends.
She stood there, taking in the kitchen that she loved so much. This was it, then. Or was it? She had to know for sure. Hands shaking, she set a couple of cans of warm diet soda on a tray, added the last bottle of cold beer, and carried it all out to the porch.
Courtney stood next to Dean, her arm curled around his waist, a strand of her shiny hair caught on the sleeve of his gray polo shirt. In her wedged heels, she was nearly his height. “But, Boo, you have to be back in time for Andy and Sherilyn’s party. I promised we’d be there.”
He’s mine! Blue wanted to say. But he wasn’t. Nobody belonged to her, and nobody ever had. She carried the tray over to him. Their eyes met—those familiar blue eyes that had laughed into her own so often. She started to say she’d saved the last cold beer for him, but before she could open her mouth, he looked away, as if she were invisible.
A giant lump grew in her throat. She set the tray gently on the table, went inside, and blindly made her way back to the dining room.
More laughter drifted her way. She grabbed her brushes and began cleaning them out. She worked mechanically, tightening paint lids, storing her tools, folding drop cloths, determined to clean everything up so she wouldn’t have to come back here. The plastic over the doorway rustled and Courtney poked her head into the dining room. For all her claims of being a teacher, she apparently couldn’t read a NO ADMITTANCE sign.
“I have a tiny emergency,” she said without even glancing at the murals. “Our drivers went to get lunch, and I’m getting a giant zit. I don’t have my cover-up stick with me. Would you mind driving into town and getting some Erace or something? And maybe pick up some mineral water while you’re there?” Courtney turned away. “Let me see if the others want anything.”
Blue shoved the paint cart out of her way and told herself to give him a chance. But it was Courtney who returned, a hundred-dollar bill pressed between her fingers. “Cover-up stick, mineral water, and three bags of Cheetos. Keep the change.” She pushed the money into Blue’s hand. “Thanks, hon.”
A dozen scenarios flashed through Blue’s mind. She chose the one that let her keep her dignity.
An hour later, she returned to an empty house and dropped the cosmetic stick, mineral water, Cheetos, and change on the kitchen counter. Her chest felt as if someone had piled stones on top of it. She finished sweeping the dining room, put the chairs back in place, loaded up Nita’s car, and ripped the plastic off the doorways. There was no time like the present to put an end to something that should never have begun.
