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“I want to ask you the same question,” Constance says.
So much for that.
“Do you miss it? The big city?”
I open my mouth to respond, but it’s hot and dry. My heart thuds in my chest, not from overwhelming affection, but from anxiety. All my muscles brace, my stomach twists. “N-no, I don’t.”
She stares at me. “Care to extrapolate?”
My jaw hangs open. Leaving my family behind was hard, but I had to do it. To start again for myself. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city I loved. Sometimes the things you love aren’t good for you anymore.
I chose Horace, not just for the uncontested Sheriff’s position, but because here I could start clean. Be the man I used to be before it all got to be too much.
Which means I don’t want to dredge up the past.
Even if it means getting closer to Constance.
I clear my throat, fingering the folders in the drawer. “Not really.”
Constance doesn’t respond for a moment. I don’t have the heart to look at her.
“Okay.”
We search in silence a bit longer before I take my leave of her. Constance barely looks up to say goodbye, which breaks my heart but is more than fair after I made her splay her insides open for me and I couldn’t muster the decency to share in return.
When I get home, the house is silent and my memories are vivid.
It turns out running away doesn’t actually leave anything behind.
11
Constance
I peer down the aisle at Fred Frederickson, who is perusing at the selection of sugary cereals, looking unenthused at any of the options.
I can’t keep standing here at the endcap, hiding like some peeping Tom. But at the same time, something is freezing me to this very spot.
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him in Shelly’s Grocery. I’m sure the Fredericksons usually get stuff delivered or they take the time to drive out to Kroger where the selection is better. So I have to say it’s more than shocking he’s deigning to take in Shelly’s selection.
That’s not what has me pinned here, though, my heart racing and threatening to leap up my throat and out of my mouth.
I haven’t seen him since I found out what he’s doing to the Wilhelm House. And something inside me won’t let me just walk away.
I’m not a confrontational person. And I certainly don’t go out of my way to have casual conversations in the grocery store unless I’m cornered.
This, though…
Part of me wants to walk right up to him and demand he say it to my face. How he’s usurping our town’s right to its history for his own selfish devices. Then, when he inevitably tries to play it off like the smarmy businessman he is, give him a piece of my mind.
The other part of me wishes I could just turn around, pay for my basket of groceries, and get the heck out of here. Dad is probably wondering where I am with his Dr. Pepper he sent me out for.
Fred suddenly straightens and looks directly at me.
Crap.
I try to step back behind the endcap. What’s that going to do, though? Just going to affirm my spot as the town weirdo.
“Dr. Chaplin? Is that you?”
