Chapter 13
13
D awn officially cast a grayish hue, still dark but just light enough to see the outline of hills in the distance. My feet dangled off the tailgate, and I stared at the sky, anxiously waiting. I’d seen many sunrises, but today this one felt different. Maybe because for the first time, I was with someone. The sound of footsteps caused me to look over, seeing Peter return from the store with a plastic bag filled with two boxes of food. He yawned and set down the bag, taking a sip of black coffee. Harley stretched his neck as far as he could to sniff inside the boxes without moving from the spot beside me.
“Ready to go?”
“In a minute. Is that okay?” I asked and turned back to the sky. “I just need to see this.”
“Yeah, sure,” he said and took another sip of coffee, leaning against the right taillight.
I sat there, waiting for the light to emerge from the horizon, like a flame growing in size, expanding its warmth upon the earth. It had never taken this long before. Was it because I was waiting for it this time? A weight sank in my chest as the dozen thoughts that I had put on hold began to play again. One thought stuck. Pa. Where was he? As desperate as I was to not think about him, I couldn’t help but wonder. Though I knew it was better this way, there would always be some part of me connected to him. I was still his daughter. He was still my pa. Nothing could ever change that. As silly as it was, I always thought that the love from a family would never let me down. An unconditional kind of love. That no matter my imperfections, I’d still be loved. And that no matter their imperfections, I’d still love them. But the longer I sat on the edge of this truck, an achiness took over, and I wondered if the only love that hadn’t let Peter down was Harley’s love.
“ Peter?”
“ Yeah?”
“Do you ever miss your father?”
He let out a soft breath, propping his elbow on the back of the truck. “Sometimes, but he died after my wife and I split. I had to get away for a while. And it was nice, I’m not gonna lie. Out in the middle of nowhere. It was peaceful. It was just me and Harley,” he explained and looked down at his cup of coffee.
The urge to hold his hand grew, and I hesitated about whether or not to act upon it. He cleared his throat, composing himself, and lifted his head. “My pop and I were never close. I never wanted to be a Marine. It was sort of expected in my family. So I was angry for a while about that. But, as my pop used to say, anger is like a wildfire. If you don’t contain it, it will spread and destroy everything in its path. But you can only contain it so much until it starts to suffocate you.”
“So what happened?”
“After he died, it sort of went with him. I didn’t have anyone to be angry at anymore.” He took another sip. “You know ...”
I listened, stunned by how he was still talking. “I’d never wish for a kid to keep a house together. Kids should be playing house, not picking up after their parents, but we wouldn’t be who we are. I know I wouldn’t be. And I know you wouldn’t be.”
“I guess so.” I looked back at the sky, catching only a smidge of light beginning to reveal itself. He reached into the bag and took out a second cup of coffee, pouring the rest of the first one into it.
He secured the lid back on top, catching my gaze.
“Hey, you may be a morning person, but I need a few cups of coffee to get me going.”
“No, it’s just ... I can’t imagine what your insides look like with the mix of beer and caffeine. You know drinking can damage the cells in the stomach, induce inflammation, and cause lesions, right?”
He regarded me with the cup of coffee paused mere inches from his mouth. “You read that in your Reader’s Digest this morning?”
“No, I’ve just seen what it can do. Bad stuff happens when people drink. It’s why I don’t do it anymore.”
“ You drank?”
“A teenager living in Catalina? Yeah, I drank. But after getting pregnant, I realized you can only look into so many empty bottles before you learn it’s not gonna help your problems. If anything, it’s just gonna make your problems worse. I kinda realized a lot of things when I got pregnant.”
“How old are you again?”
“Nineteen. Why do you always ask that?”
“You just say and do the most unexpected things. That’s why.”
I turned away to hide my smile and look at the burnt orange sky. A sense of peace washed over me as I took in the array of colors blurring together. My shoulders relaxed. Peter’s attention was nowhere near the horizon. It was on me. His stare was just as warm as when the sun touched the tips of leaves so brightly, I thought they would catch fire. And he even had the same level of concentration as he had earlier this morning, sliding the blade across the layer of shaving cream on his cheek. Seeing the white foam and the twist of the blade leaving a bare and smooth surface seemed so foreign to me. It was with that same concentration that Peter traced the constellation of beauty marks on my face, his gaze briefly lowering to my mouth before returning to meet my eyes. I could see the need living inside him, only increasing in size, each time more difficult to control. That’s when I first understood my own need matched his. A need that spoke to our most primal urges. Flustered by my own thoughts, I looked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed he had turned as well.
“Well, uh, we should hit the road, yeah?” His arm reached out and patted my back.
“ Uh-huh.”
“ Alrighty.”
“ Peter.”
“ Yeah?”
“You can stop patting my back.”
“Oh, right, sorry.”
He turned away again but not without flashing a boyish smile. Harley jumped down from the tailgate, and I followed. Peter held open the passenger door but before I climbed inside, I stopped and looked up at him.
“I got another question.”
A smile spread across his face. “Of course you do. You wouldn’t be Grace Callaway if you didn’t.”
I pushed myself onto the seat. “You said you were a spunky kid growing up. Just how much of a troublemaker were you?”
“It wasn’t really anything serious. It was just me being a stupid kid wanting attention. Put your feet in.”
I swung my legs inside, and he shut the door before I could ask anything else. Harley leaped into the backseat, and Peter sat down. Though I suspected he already felt somewhat drained from speaking so much these past two days, a part of me couldn’t let it end so quickly.
“You know, I don’t think that’s stupid. I think every kid wants attention from their parents. It’s only natural,” I said and buckled my seatbelt.
“Well, I’ll say this, Grace ... I’ve never met a woman who talks like you do,” Peter stated.
Afraid I would say or do something childish, something I’d regret, I remained quiet. Did he really just refer to me as a woman? I sat upright and rolled my shoulders back, conflicted as to what I should be feeling right now. Pleasantly surprised? Caught off guard? I bit my bottom lip, unsure as to what I should be experiencing. Just as he set down the cup of coffee, ready to drive, I finally mustered up enough courage to speak again.
“You think I’m a woman?” I asked, my heart quickening in anticipation of his response.
“I-I ...” he stammered, quickly turning his face back toward the windshield, almost as if he realized the words he had just said aloud. “See, that’s what ...”, he exhaled. “Grace, when you say stuff like that—I don’t see you as a nineteen-year-old. And then I have to remind myself about the few times I’ve been to jail.”
“You’ve been to jail?”
“That’s what you got from what I just said?” His eyes danced with humor. I hesitated and turned away.
“I think the majority of people would focus on the word ‘jail’ if someone brought it up in conversation, don’t you think?”
He thought for a moment as we turned out of the gas station.
“Yeah, okay, you got a point there. It’s not something I usually say, but considering how we started, I thought it would be okay,” he admitted and scratched his clean-shaven jaw as his other hand steered us onto the highway.
I couldn’t help but smile as I leaned my head against the window. On the ride home, I dozed off, still exhausted from the day before. The hum of the tires on the highway and the melody of a song softly playing on the radio caused my heavy eyes to open. The sky was a clear blue with no cloud in sight. Shifting slightly, I felt Peter’s shoulder against mine. Just even the slightest brush of his body against mine had become something I wanted more of. He was focused on the road, humming along to “Old Time Rock ‘n Roll.” He sang off-key and tapped his fingers to the beat, but paused as he realized I was awake.
“Oh, hey, have a good nap?”
“Mm-hmm.” I wiped the layer of sweat from my forehead. “That Bob Seger you were singing to?”
“You know him?”
“I may be young, but I wasn’t born yesterday,” I said. “I like a few of his songs, but I like Elvis more.”
He smiled as he kept his right hand on the wheel. “Elvis fan, huh? Gotta’ love the King of Rock and Roll.”
“Loved him since I was a kid,” I said and sank deeper into the seat, stretching out my feet. Harley rested his chin on the windowsill, enjoying the breeze hitting his face at eighty miles per hour. “How far away are we?”
“Just twenty minutes. You slept for most of the ride,” he replied and propped his left arm on the windowsill.
And like the last few times I’d been in his truck, a part of me prayed he’d keep driving or for the asphalt to never run out. Like a dust devil, there was nothing I wanted more to do than just run away. To drive some place far enough where my problems didn’t follow. And to never look back. Though it frightened me to do just that, what had become more terrifying was I didn’t want to go alone anymore. In a matter of weeks, all the things I had wanted to do on my own, I now wanted to do with him. I watched Peter out of the corner of my eye as he resumed humming to the song. Even if it never happened, all I’d want for him is to be happy.
We stared at the road for the remainder of the drive without looking at each other. And for some reason, that same anticipation from last night in the motel seemed to linger in the cabin of the truck. My palms were sweaty. My heart raced. It’s then I caught Peter’s eyes dipping down to my bare legs before he quickly caught himself. As we turned down the road and I saw the single-wide trailer coming into view, I sat upright but didn’t find my hand reaching for the handle as fast as it usually did. He pulled into the driveway and shifted the gear to park, lowering his hands from the wheel. Neither one of us moved. I wasn’t ready to go. I wasn’t ready to see the inside of that trailer.
“Let me get the door for you.” He hopped out of the truck.
I unbuckled my seatbelt as he opened the door and I slipped myself off the seat. “Thank you. And thank you again. I know I keep sayin’ that, but really, thank you. I had a really good time.”
A smile spread across his face and he nodded, saying, “Yeah, me, too. I had a real good time.” He cleared his throat as he said, “I guess I should, uh, get your stuff,” and rubbed the back of his left ear.
“Yeah,” I said and looked to my feet to hide my smile. I noticed that his boots were now almost touching my toes.
And just like the first time, his hand reached up and tucked the fallen strand of hair behind my ear. There was a simplicity to his touch, both intimate and tender, that spoke to something deep inside me. I wanted to feel his hand against my skin. I wanted to know the exact angle of his face when and if he would lean in to kiss me. My eyes looked to his face. The crease in his brows had become prominent, just like it did whenever he was considering something. His gaze deepened the longer he lingered, letting his thumb glide across my cheek. Warm sensations tingled deep in my stomach and other places.
“You gonna kiss me now?” I asked, my own words causing my heart to quicken. A smile spread across his face. It was then I felt his nose graze my brow bone and then lower to my cheek, but he never closed the last few inches between us.
“Can I?” his voice was low and quiet.
I nodded.
This time when he leaned in, the palm of his hand rested against the side of my neck, his thumb tracing my chin. My eyelids fluttered closed when he tipped my face up. He exhaled a shaky breath and tilted his head further in. The sudden sound of a screen door shutting made him pull away and take a few steps back. And the fire in his eyes faded the instant Ray’s voice called out, “Well, look who it is! You’re back! Arlene, get out here! Grace is back!”
I leaned off the truck.
“Hi, Ray,” Peter said, scratching the back of his neck. “How was your trip to Flagstaff?”
“Good. Good. I was just on my way out to pick up some things for dinner,” Ray said and stepped off the porch, glancing between us, almost knowingly. “You two had fun wherever you went off to?”
I looked at my feet again to hide my smile just as Arlene walked out onto the porch. “Hey, you two.” She leaned against the doorframe, her suspicious eyes glued to Peter, whose cheeks turned red. “Also, Ray, don’t forget the ice cream. Not the chocolate. But the vanilla. And get those graham crackers and—?”
“I got it, woman. I got it,” Ray said. “Hey, Grace, we’re gonna have s’mores after dinner. You should come on by.”
“You gonna get those big marshmallows?” I asked.
“You know it. You can come on over, too, Peter, if you want any,” Ray said and climbed into the car.
“Oh, thanks, Ray. Drive safe.” Peter waved as Ray drove off down the road, waving back at us.
Arlene turned her attention to us and asked, “So, how was your trip? You gonna tell me where you took Grace?”
“Arlene,” I said.
“Uh, it was good. Really good, ma’am.” Peter cleared his throat and flashed a boyish smile. “And I-I was just taking her stuff up to the door. I have to get goin’ and change one of the tires. I think we hit a nail on our way back.”
“Well, glad you two are back. And Grace, you and I.” She pointed to her feet before going inside the trailer, the same tell she used with each of her sons when she wanted details. Peter and I shared a look before he walked around to the back of the truck, grabbing my bag.
“What was that? What she just did?” he asked, following me up to the porch and setting my bag down at the door.
“It’s what she does when she wants to know something. She’s always done it with me.”
“Got it. Well, uh, I should get going. Let you get settled in again,” he said, his cheeks still red. He looked back at Arlene’s trailer before facing me. That anticipation flourished again as I stood there, awaiting the one thing I longed for from him.
“Um, I do kinda wanna ask you somethin’. Again, you can say no, but after I come back from getting the tire fixed and take Harley for a walk, would you wanna get some lunch? We can go to Sunny’s again and have a do-over of sorts.”
I smiled. “I’d like that.”
His expression lightened, and a big smile spread across his face. “Good, and maybe one day I could make those Sonoran-style eggs you liked so much this morning,” he said and walked back to the truck.
“One day, huh?”
He smiled and climbed into the truck. Lowering myself down onto the porch, I stretched out my achy legs and watched Peter disappear down the dirt road. As the dirt and dust settled, my smile, bit by bit, became smaller and smaller. A pair of sandals came into view, and I looked up to see Arlene with her arms folded. She sat herself down beside me, propping her elbows on her knees and holding a red cup of ice and lemonade. Arlene took a sip and held out the cup. Taking the lemonade, I took a much-needed sip, relieved to feel the citrusy drink cool my body.
“Thanks.” I handed her back the drink. “So, how was Flagstaff? You and Ray have fun?”
“It was good. They’re expecting another baby. There’s too many grandchildren to keep count of now.” Arlene shook her head with a sigh and kept her focus ahead. “How was your little trip with Peter?”
“ Good.”
“I can tell somethin’ is on your mind, though. You’ve been sitting out here for almost ten minutes,” she said. “By now you would’ve gone back inside. So, tell me. What’s goin’ on? It must be somethin’.”
I remained silent, fighting off the growing urge to cry.
“Grace, talk to me. I’m not gonna tell Ray anything.”
“It’s my mama.”
“What about her? You better have not given her any money. I swear to God.”
“ No.”
“Then what’s wrong? You were smiling not too long ago. I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time.”
“I don’t wanna be like her, Arlene. My mama only stayed with Pa because no other boy wanted her. I know why we’re doing this. Me and Peter. It’s because we’re lonely. But that’s all it means. No man’s ever gonna want me. It’s different when a man is a single parent, but for women it’s ... like a shame,” I explained and wiped my face to catch any tear that had fallen. “It’s just different.”
“You don’t think you could find a man who would love you for being a mother, Grace?”
“You know what I mean.”
“The right man will love you and will love your child. It won’t matter to him, because he’ll love you for who you are—a mother, a friend, a lover, and so many other things.”
“That’s if a man likes trailer park—?”
“Don’t you dare say that. You know I hate that. The right man won’t care where you came from, Grace. Let me tell you what you deserve if it were up to me,” she began. “You deserve a—?”
A loud bass emanated up from the road. The neighborhood dogs began their howling.
“What on earth is that?”
Uncle Wayne’s truck appeared. The tires skidded to a stop. Arlene and I waved the cloud of dirt from our faces. He jumped out and shut the door about to speak until he saw Arlene sitting by my side.
“Oh, hey, Arlene.”
“Hey, Wayne. Haven’t seen you for a few days,” Arlene said, standing from the porch. “How have you been?”
“Fine. Just fine. Where were you and Ray? You guys are always here,” Uncle Wayne said.
“We went up to Flagstaff. We just got back this morning. Well, I’ll let you and Grace talk. I’ll be right over there, sweetie. Okay?’
Uncle Wayne and I watched her leave and head back into her trailer. Our gazes fell on each other, and silence ensued. Just like the time he found out Pa had skimmed him in a poker game, Uncle Wayne took off his baseball cap and placed his hands on his sides, staring at me with expecting eyes. His foot started to tap. “Why didn’t you call me and say that your father ditched you, Gracie? I had to hear from him that you were all alone up here. He’s off God knows where. I dropped everything and came down here. But you were gone. So where the hell were you? It’s like everyone just got up and left.”
“I was at—?”
“Don’t say Sam’s. You don’t think I checked up there, too? I know more about you than you think, little girl.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I? So I’m obviously fine,” I said, irritated, and stood from the porch.
“Uh-huh, and where’d you go off to that you needed your backpack, huh?” Uncle Wayne stepped onto the porch, causing me to halt in my tracks and look back at him. “Answer me right now, Gracie.”
“You’re not my pa, Uncle Wayne.”
“You can’t drive like that. So where did ya go, Gracie? Sam didn’t even know. Was it that neighbor? I noticed his truck wasn’t here either. You don’t think your Pa told me about him and how he’s been lookin’ at you?”
Panic pierced my lungs, and the only rational thought I had was to turn away and run inside. But before I could shut the door, Uncle Wayne’s foot blocked the frame. “Hey! We’re not done talking!” He pushed his shoulder against the door, and it swung open on the first try. I stumbled back. Uncle Wayne kicked the bag inside and slammed the door. He threw his baseball cap on the counter. “You went with him, didn’t you? I knew something was off with him. That sick fuck. He tell you to do stuff with him?”
“No. He’s not—?”
“What, he’s not like that? He’s a good guy? He’s a man, Grace! Did he ask you to try on stuff and shit?” He bent down and unzipped my backpack, rummaging through my clothes, carelessly throwing them in either direction. “Fucking bastard. Going after some teenager. I’m gonna kill him.”
“Uncle Wayne, just—?”
“Shut up! He’s a sick fuck!”
“And what does that make you?! You’ve been looking at me since I was fifteen!” I shouted.
Uncle Wayne went still and slowly stood upright, turning his head back at me. A slithering chill ran up my spine from the crazed look in his eyes, staring at me with a disgusted but lustful sneer. Uncle Wayne’s eyes had always been more frightening than my pa’s. Each time, just like now, his gaze would travel from my neck to my breasts, and down my legs, then to my face with a concentration that unnerved me. He pointed and said with gritted teeth, “You know, ever since that bastard came in here, you’ve been different. I knew something was different about you. You got more spunk now, Gracie.”
“Don’t call me that. I want you to leave. Now. I mean it, Uncle Wayne. I want you to go.”
Anger brimmed his eyes, and he stepped closer. “I can call you whatever I like and leave whenever I fucking like. You don’t get to boss me around just ’cause your daddy’s gone. You’re my niece. And here you are knocked up and spreadin’ your legs for another man! You’re just like my sister!”
“You’re just pissed off that Mason was the first one!”
His eyes flared, standing there in blatant shock. When Uncle Wayne took a step closer this time, he grabbed my cheeks and squished my face together. “You’re the one parading around in those little dresses of yours and smiling at me. Just because I hugged you and tried to feel you up that one time, you think I wanna fuck you?”
I pushed him off me. “I see it! I see it on your disgusting face every time you look at me!”
His mouth thinned into a scowl. In that second, the most frightening silence I’d ever heard enveloped us. I knew we had crossed a line that there was no coming back from. “I really want you to leave now. I mean it, Uncle Wayne,” I pleaded with a shaky breath. “No. No! Don’t touch me!”
Our hands and arms flailed as I struggled to break from his grip. The stronger his grasp wrapped around me, the louder my cries became. Freeing myself, I turned to run, but his arms seized my chest from behind. I kicked my feet. “No! Get off me!” I yelled. His hand muffled my mouth, and I struggled as he pushed me against the kitchen counter. And like the animal he was, he grabbed the back of my neck, pinning me down. He loomed over me from behind, breathing harshly as he lifted up my dress.
“You were right, you know. I did wanna be the first one who fucked you. Not Mason. Not that fucking neighbor. Me. How do you think I feel having their sloppy seconds?
My eyes frantically searched the counter as he removed his hand from my neck to unbuckle his belt. The sun’s rays came through the window slats and settled on the handle of the cast iron skillet, like it was a sign from Her , giving me permission. I took the handle, turned, and swung. Thunk. Uncle Wayne fell against the chair and groaned, holding the side of his head. I stumbled into the corner, keeping a tight grip on the pan. My breaths came short and fast. I couldn’t move or find the will to run. All I wanted to do was stay in this spot. I didn’t know how to feel when I saw him tentatively touch his forehead and the blood on his fingers from the large gash. I only wanted to hit him more, because the longer I thought of those fingers touching any part of me or my child, the more the rage inside me became unearthed. A part of me was frightened, but it was also reassuring that my maternal instinct was more alive than ever. His furious eyes refocused, and he stood to lunge forward and grab me again. Instinct took over. I stepped to the side, raising my arm to swing the pan again.
Again. Again.
And again.
Bubbles of blood poured from his mouth as the pool of red spread across the linoleum floor. His eyes were stuck wide open. My shoulders shook as I stifled the long-repressed cries of the little girl inside who wanted nothing more than to feel safe in this world. The pan dropped from my hand, and I lowered myself to the floor, covering my ears to silence the gurgling sounds. By the time I opened my eyes, it was silent. The pool of red had formed a stream, traveling between the tiles, heading towards me. I scooted further into the corner, watching the thick liquid change direction, like a train switching tracks, as it filled another square.
I don’t know what made me feel more guilty—the fact that I didn’t feel guilty or the fact that I was relieved. Another worry was gone. I wouldn’t have to worry about my baby girl being leered at by my uncle. No other worry existed now. Two of them were long gone, and this last one I made go away. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.