Chapter Two
Chevy
Throughout my tours overseas, I’d always come back to an ever-changing Rugged Mountain. I’d be sitting around a campfire with some friends at a farewell party and return to most of them with spouses and babies. It’s not that I’m not happy for them, but as I see everyone moving on, I can’t help but feel a little jealous. I was married to the service all my life, but it had an expiration date, and mine just ended. Now, everyone says it’s time to join the rest of them at the couples’ parties, so they’ve been feeding me up to any hungry lionesses they can find.
Last month, a buddy set me up with a friend of his that was desperate to meet someone. I should’ve taken the desperate part to heart. The girl was crazier than a camel on quaaludes. I haven’t trusted a set up since, which lead me to this Mail Order Mountain Man website that everyone was talking about.
Truth be told, I’m not one hundred percent convinced that this whole mail order thing is the way to go, but I’ve gotta do something to keep my buddies off my back and this is the easiest way to do it. At least that’s my excuse. Reality is, I wouldn’t mind a little company in the cabin at night. Someone to bounce ideas off and maybe share life with.
The intake process was simple. I paid a load of cash, filled out an application, and waited for matches. I’ve had two this week and so far, they’ve both been fails.
One girl was way too fucking young, and we had nothing to talk about. I’m not saying that an age gap like that doesn’t work in certain situations, but I don’t know as if we had much in common. She kept saying everything was toxic, and she didn’t know who George Strait was. Surely not everything is toxic, and not knowing the King of Country, I mean… come on.
The other woman was a police officer in town, which is cool as hell, but she wasn’t looking for someone to take care of her. She wanted something more of a co-pilot, which isn’t my thing. I could tell immediately that we’d clash at every turn.
It’s not that I’m against an equal partnership, it’s just that I believe wholeheartedly that a man should take care of a woman. From what I’ve seen across the world, the happiest couples are those where the man protects and cares for the woman.
I watched it happen with my grandparents. My grandfather woke up every morning to go provide for and protect my grandmother, and they both flourished. Grandma loved Grandpa so hard that he was the happiest person I’ve seen to this day.
So many women don’t want that now, though. They’re hyper independent, and every time I date one of them, I feel more like a puppet than a partner.
I’d like to treat you like a lady, ma’am. Would you please let me?
I shake my head and unlock the cabin pod that’s meant for blind dates. The whole dating thing takes place on a ranch set out in the middle of nowhere, but the people who purchased the land must have had money to burn because this place is five-star classy. Then again, I guess it better be given the price I paid to participate.
Inside the cabin, the fireplace is crackling, a welcome basket with snacks and drinks is set out next to a notebook with conversation starters, and a switch is on the wall to turn the speaker on when I’m ready. The décor is rustic, fitting with the overall theme of the ranch. There’s even a longhorn skull hung above the fireplace. I’d bet the whole cabin is a twenty-five by twenty-five foot space.
The green light turns on above the door, indicating my date has arrived. Shit, this one is early. That’s positive. The first one was late and the second one left halfway through the date because of a call that came in. That, or she was sick of me.
I grab the bottle of water from the basket and flick on the speaker, shoving down the butterflies that twist and tighten my stomach. I don’t think I was this nervous going into war-torn countries to disarm bombs.
There’s something so nerve-wracking about meeting someone you know nothing about. On the one hand, it’s a clean slate. On the other, a conversation is not equal under all circumstances. Sometimes it’s like pulling teeth to get someone to talk.
“Hey there.”
Hey there . Really? I’ve done this twice now. You’d think I’d have something better to say than ‘hey there.’
The response is soft as she says, “Hi. I’m Heather. I’ve got to say, this is so weird.”
“Nice to meet you, Heather. I’m Chevy. Is this your first time?”
“Yeah. My friend convinced me this was a genius plot device for life and,” she sighs, “I’m not convinced yet.”
I smile at the realism of that statement. “Same. This is my third date, and I have to say… it’s still not easy.”
“Wow, three dates? You’re a professional.”
Does she have a sense of humor or is that passive aggressive? Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned how many dates I’ve been on.
“Come to think of it, I probably am.” I fold my leg over my knee and pull at the bottom cuff of my jeans. “I guess that means I’m in charge of the list of questions then?”
“There’s a list of questions?”
“In the notebook by the basket. They give you a list of conversation prompts.”
She laughs and I hear her stand from the couch before the soft scrape of the notebook against the basket hits my ear. “Oh damn. These questions are awful. I mean … if you had a superpower, what would it be? ”
“Are you asking for real?”
“Not really, unless you want to answer.”
“No,” I grin, “I’m good.”
“Yeah, they’re like job interview questions. Do you see the one about what apps you can’t live without?”
“Well, that one’s imperative to knowing me,” I laugh. “I can’t live without the weather app. That thing saves my life most days.”
“Why’s that?”
“Fishin’. Gotta know wind speeds, pressure, and water temperature if you’re gonna catch anything good.”
“I haven’t been fishing in forever, like since I was a kid. What do you fish for?”
“There’s a lot of trout up here. You ever go fly fishin’?”
“No, but I want to. It looks fun and kinda peaceful. My dad liked sitting out on the lake in a rowboat. So, if we ever fished, that’s where we were.”
“You guys catch a lot like that?”
I hear her smile widen. “No. Never. It was mostly nap time.”
“Sounds a lot like my childhood. My grandpa would perch down by the river and fall asleep while I tossed stones and caught fish.” I laugh. “When we got back to Grandma, it was ‘us’ that caught the fish, though. What did you do during nap time?”
“I liked drawing, so I’d bring a pad and pencil with me and sketch the lake. I still have pages and pages of sketches I made out there with him. One time, we got caught in this rainstorm and I was so scared. You could see the lightning all around the water, and my dad propped a tarp over me and told me to sketch the scene while he paddled us back to shore. It was such a simple thing, but I remembered that day forever. He made me feel so safe and he showed me how beautiful even the darkness can be.”
I don’t know how we’ve gotten into it all so easily, but I like it. “That’s a beautiful story. Did your mom ever come fishin’ with y’all?”
The fireplace echoes in from her side of the cabin. “No. Mom wasn’t an outdoorsy kind of person, but it worked for them. They had this beautiful love story.” Her voice turns darker as she says, “They passed away together last year in a car crash.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry. That’s awful.”
“It’s sad, but I really do find comfort in knowing they went together. They’d been married since high school, so I don’t know how they’d have managed without each other.”
This is the first date I’ve had in forever where the conversation flowed so easily.
“What about your parents?” I think I hear the twist of the water bottle pop. “Are you close?”
“My dad ran off when we were young, and my mom wasn’t the same for years afterwards, so it mostly left me looking after my sisters. I’m really close to them… for better or worse,” I laugh. “They’re a pain in the ass, but I love ‘em.”
“That’s nice they have you. I never had siblings. What about your mom?”
“She’s…. she’s in a world of her own. She remarried a few months ago, but she sort of went off the rails after my dad left. Don’t think she ever really found her way back. My grandparents, though, they had this great love story.”
“How long were they married?”
“Almost seventy years. Crazy shit, right?”
“That’s incredible. So, they never fought?”
“Nah. I mean… they’d bicker, but they never yelled at each other. She told everyone for years after he died how sweet he was, how much she missed him, how he never raised his voice with her. I think it was a big deal because she came from a really rough family.”
Heather sighs sweetly. “Ugh, that’s adorable. I don’t think love like that exists anymore.”
“Bad go at things?”
She drags in a heavy breath. “Really bad go at things. My ex was so sweet to start. Like, I saw us getting married and doing the whole thing, but it slowly twisted into something controlling and dark. I couldn’t share my feelings, so I started to feel trapped, and eventually, he cheated on me. Funny thing is, he’s turned into a stalker now.”
“A stalker?”
“Yeah. He calls nonstop, begging me to put everything back together. More recently, he started following me around. It’s weird. I’m going to work on a restraining order Monday.”
I’ll never understand weak men who think they’re tough because they push a woman around or treat her like shit because they can. Men are naturally bigger, scarier, and more physically dominant. That should be used with care, especially with the people you love. This is probably part of the reason women are so hyper-independent these days.
“Sounds like you need the restraining order.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. What about you? You had any luck in love outside of the few dates here?”
I laugh. “No. Not at all. I haven’t given much attention to it at all until recently. All my efforts have gone into work.”
“I read online that you were in the military?”
“Army. I was a colonel, but I served all kinds of positions in my career. They’re all important. The best part was the people. I got to meet all kinds of folks from all different countries.”
“I’m not a military girl. What does a colonel do?”
“Oh, they’re leads of various missions out in the field. My role changed depending on the deployment and the severity of the situation. On my way up the ranks, I did a little bit of everything. Paratrooping, negotiations, and EOD.”
“What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s short for explosive ordnance disposal.”
“Damn,” she exhales quickly, “that’s way more impressive than a school counselor.”
“No way. You’re helping kids all day. That’s super impressive.”
“Well, that’s not what most people say. Usually, when I tell people what I do, they laugh.”
“Damn.” I swipe my hand down over my beard. “That’s rough. I don’t get it. Your job is admirable.”
“Well, I think it has something to do with how terrible I am at figuring out my own life. My friends think I’m not equipped to help kids.” She clears her throat. “I probably shouldn’t have said that out loud. Now you have confirmation that I’m crazy.”
“The only crazy part of that sentence was when you told me the people who are laughing at you are your friends.” Silence ensues, and I wonder if I’ve gone too far. “Sorry. I’m sure your friends are great, but I just… I don’t know. I’m sure you had to work hard at school for your career and I… I’m not sure why I felt protective over you for a second. It’s… yeah.”
A loud beeping sounds in the room signifying that we have five minutes left before the speaker turns off. Damn, that went fast.
“It’s over?” Heather’s tone is soft and sad, as though maybe she was enjoying our conversation. “I sort of liked feeling protected, but don’t worry about the friend thing. We all play rough with each other. It’s mutual. I busted on my friend Trish all morning for being single, and she’s the one that set this up. I think sarcasm might be our love language.”
I nod as though she can see me, and a smile grows on my face as I say, “I had fun today. Do you want to do this again tomorrow at the same time?”
My stomach tightens as I wait for her response. This is the first time I’m praying a woman wants a second date. Hopefully, I didn’t mess things up back there.
The red light above the speaker flashes faster and faster. I think I read somewhere that means we have thirty seconds remaining.
“Sounds good. Same time tomorrow.”
I’m not sure what just happened, but I can’t wait to do it again.