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“And your reason for telling me?”
“Because the job description mentions transportation. If you don’t mind, which I have a feeling you do, I’d like to be taken into the city. I’m capable of driving, though it’s been a while. I just need a set of wheels.”
The list of things I’d promised on the job’s description included transportation. I hadn’t gotten around to purchasing an additional whip and mine wasn’t in the equation. I thought I had at least two more months, but the woman standing in front of me had been adamant. Willie was employed elsewhere, and as a parting gift, I’d given him the vehicle I’d purchased for his services.
I took a look toward the west, where a sheet covered the car underneath the carport that had six stalls. Only one of them were in use. Debating inwardly, I tried to find a better solution than the one sitting right in front of me. There wasn’t one.
“I haven’t had time to find a new car and have it delivered.”
Her eyes followed mine, landing on the massive vehicle underneath the extra-large cover, protecting the paint from harsh weather conditions and my heart from the pain of seeing it on a day-to-day basis.
“I cou—”
“No.” I shut her down immediately.
“Then how will I get to the city?” she asked, tilting her head and staring intently in my direction.
I turned, breaking eye contact as I tried building the strength to repeat myself. I was failing miserably, and it burned my insides to acknowledge it.
“I don’t mind you taking the wheel, but I have a long list, which means we will be a while. I need to visit at least four stores, possibly five. I’m okay with whatever you decide, but I’d like to get going as soon as possible.”
Clearing the tenderness of my throat, I walked in the opposite direction. Filled with so many things I couldn’t quite explain, I felt the need to put distance between us. Aeir was much too much for me. Her presence. Her voice. Her beauty. Her spirit. Her calm.My storm. It was too much.
“The key is in the cup holder,” I yelled over my shoulder, continuing into the fields, ready to get lost in my crop until everything behind me disappeared.
“Thank you,” she panted, “Thank you.”
The moment she took off in the opposite direction, I discovered a small issue. As much as I wanted to let her leave and clear my space of her caramel-scented body spray and glistening skin, I couldn’t.
“An–Aeir!” I called after her.
“Yeah,” she said, softly, halting her stride and waiting for me to say something. Anything.
“Here.”
I dug into my pocket and removed my wallet. The YSL wallet was still in perfect condition. The gift from Anna had been the final one she’d given me. I kept it close, always with me wherever I went. The black card that sported the American Express logo slid out with ease.
“Whatever you want,” I assured her, handing it over.
Hesitantly, she accepted. I didn’t wait for a response before I was off and into the sun—away from the sound of Anna’s G-Wagon starting, away from the sight of it pulling out,away.
Once the gravel silenced and the tires were no longer treading the pavement of the land, I finally looked back. Off in the distance, the truck went. I lifted my head toward the sky, gripping the back of my neck with my hand.
“Anna, why must you make a fool of me, my love?” I asked aloud. “Please, baby, stop fucking with my head.”
* * *
Hunger struck,leading me out of the scorching sun and into the kitchen. Cold, filtered water quenched my thirst, making it difficult to breathe yet leaving me satisfyingly hydrated. I slammed the empty cup onto the counter, going through the list of available food options in my head. I settled for the cucumber salad I’d made three days prior, knowing the cucumbers had soaked up the vinegar by now, helping me to curb my appetite until dinnertime.
Beside the cup on the counter, my phone chimed. I leaned forward, casually, checking the screen to see who was trying to contact me. An image of my grandfather with Aussie in his hands covered every inch as his name sat atop. With a shake of my head, I left my phone behind to hunt down the cucumber salad on my dome.
As much as it hurt to shut out the world, it hurt even more to let them in. I'd been reduced to a small bubble that required constant surveillance to protect my sanity, my heart, and preserve my life for the sake of my daughter. The capacity of my bubble was low and it made me extremely intolerable, not only to the people I loved, but in general.
In some sick, twisted way, disconnection was a coping mechanism for me. By disconnecting, life’s unfairness and death’s untimely appearance wouldn’t hurt so bad. By disconnecting, I didn’t have to explain why, after two years, I was hardly any better than after two days of Anna’s murder. By disconnecting, I didn’t have to muster a smile or force laughter. By disconnecting, I didn’t have to pretend to be happy, not even for a moment. By disconnecting, I was allowed to mourn at my pace and come to terms with the fact that it was a never-ending journey.
Instead of grabbing a bowl and filling it, I ate the cucumber salad right out of the dish I’d prepared it in with a fork. The bitterness was intrusive, spreading across my mouth. I quickly adapted to the anticipated flavor, embracing everything it embodied as I filled my belly just a bit. When I was done, my phone had managed to stop ringing and the guilt of not taking my grandfather’s call had subsided.
I stared off into the distance, contemplating returning the call and when. Discomfort quickly followed the thought, forcing me to shut it down prematurely. If I made a mental note, I’d simply be lying to myself so it was beyond pointless.
