Chapter One #2
I don’t know the county sheriff’s name but he covers his mouth and clears his throat. ‘I’ll have somebody look into it.’
‘The point is,’ the glamorous woman says, bringing the attention of the room back to her, ‘We need to cut all this bullshit legal red tape and get the heavy machinery rolling into that one-horse town now, before it’s too late.’
Our desserts begin to arrive, and I can’t hear what she’s saying anymore because her words are drowned out by other conversation.
‘Have you ever been to Rapture?’ the mousy woman next to me asks as a plate of pumpkin pie slides under my nose.
I pick up my fork. ‘Uh, once,’ I say. ‘Years ago. I went with my stepmother. Have you?’
‘I work in town planning, so, yeah… few times. Honestly? These days, I get scared goin’ out that way.’
‘What were they talking about, just now?’
She leans forward a fraction. Surreptitiously, she says, ‘The woman in the purple pant suit is Darlene Landry. Works for the development company on the Rapture project. Her firm was supposed to start work on the land more than a year ago. They’re supposed to be building high-rise apartments there, but the residents are digging their heels in.
Refusing to move. Echo Salinger owns a saloon bar out that way, Scotch & Smoke, and a few other properties.
He started legal proceedings and now there’s a stalemate, with the development company losing money every day.
Meanwhile, Echo Salinger’s declared hisself the unofficial mayor of Rapture. ’
In my mind, Rapture only makes me think of one thing: AJ Callahan. I swallow tightly at the memory of him. ‘So, college kids are going to Scotch & Smoke?’
She lowers her voice. ‘I’ll admit, I thought your mother knew.
College kids are going out there and posting photographs to their Instagram accounts.
They like to hang out with the biker crowd.
Somebody told me they turn the rock ‘n’ roll up real loud.
But it’s turning the tide. Folks round here used to think the development company was in the right.
But now, people are speaking up in support of Rapture and Echo Salinger, saying that the remaining residents shouldn’t have to move and that the authorities should never have been allowed to cut the power at night. ’
She digs into her dessert. We make small talk for the remainder of the meal, but all the while, I’m rattled by the mention of Rapture. I try not to think about the first kiss I ever had with AJ at Amber Bradshaw’s party, but the memory of it has never left me.
I force myself to make polite conversation until the last guest has left. Glancing at my phone, I see it’s already ten-fifteen.
‘Why don’t you stay here tonight?’ Dad suggests when I make noises about leaving. ‘I can drive you back to the apartment in the morning.’
He still calls it ‘the apartment’ because it’s where we lived together when we first came to America. Now I live there alone, and Dad still pays my rent, because I can’t afford to.
At his question, I thin my lips into a smile.
‘Doug’s staying over,’ Dad adds, as though that’s meant to persuade me. Doug has a habit of being civil to me only when my father is in the same room, and for that reason, Dad doesn’t know the extent of my loathing for my stepbrother.
‘I said I’d be at Sunset Pines early,’ I say. ‘I should probably get an Uber back.’
He looks disappointed and I immediately feel guilty.
Evelyn comes back into the house, flanked by Doug, having said goodbye to the last of the guests outside in the driveway.
When the door is closed, Evelyn puts both hands on her hips, aiming her ire at her son.
‘College kids going out to Rapture? Is this true? Did you know about this?’
Doug makes a face. I wouldn’t be surprised if my stepbrother had been drinking in Scotch & Smoke. ‘Prolly just some losers. It’s not a thing.’
I refrain from suggesting she try looking at Instagram when she waggles her finger in her son’s direction.
‘I wanna know about these wristbands, Dougie. What’s with that?
Put some feelers out and report back. I need to know numbers.
This is the last thing we need. I can’t take much more of the developers breathing down my neck.
You know, they’re saying all these recent car thefts in the city are being carried out by Rapture residents?
Town of cockroaches, all of them, let me tell you.
’ She then wipes her fingertips down my father’s sleeve and tosses her hair back, kicking off her shoes in the middle of the hallway. ‘Rick, honey, make me a gin and soda?’
I make up my mind to leave. ‘I’m going to grab my dress then request an Uber.’
‘You’re sure you won’t stay?’ Dad asks me, but he’s already walking backward toward the kitchen, ready to do my stepmother’s bidding.
‘I’ll see you soon, okay?’
I turn to climb the stairs. From behind me, Doug blows raspberries in time with my steps, presumably meant as another reference to my shit-colored dress. When I pause, so does he. I shake my head, tired of his juvenile antics. He carries on until I reach the top.
Upstairs, changing out of the brown dress, my phone pings. The notification shows an email from Owen Leith. The title is a poem by Christina Rossetti.
I calculate the time in London. He’s up early, no doubt catching the first train into the city.
I wince. I read it. I haven’t replied to the last three poems he sent me, and it’s starting to feel like I can’t ignore my ex-boyfriend’s begging anymore. I vow to reply when I get home.
When I come back downstairs wearing my green dress again, Doug has gone, and there’s no one around for me to say goodbye to.