14. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
Luke
L ydia intrigues me. Sometimes when I see her, I think she likes me. She’s friendly, open, and approachable. She looks directly into my eyes and it’s as if she can see right through to my core, my soul. I’m hypnotized by her, and I can’t turn away. But the very next time that we see each other, she is completely different. Her walls are up, and she doesn’t meet my gaze. She’s pushing me away and I get the impression that she isn’t at all interested in knowing me on any level. And yet, I feel that there’s something there. I felt the spark when we were slow-dancing. At least, I think I did. I’d like to clear my head of thoughts of Lydia, but she’s in my mind when I wake up and I see her smile before I go to sleep. Am I being obsessive? Reading too much into things? I wish I knew more about her. It’s like we’re playing cat and mouse. But I don’t want to play games.
At the ranch Open Day, she was so attentive and fun. I thought that, if there weren’t so many people around, I’d ask her if she wanted to have dinner or something. Just the two of us. A couple of times when I looked for her in the crowd, she caught my eye and smiled right back. It sent a bolt of energy rushing through me that took my breath away. It was as if we were the only two people in the whole world. Nothing else mattered. When Lydia smiles, I feel connected. Warm on the inside. Home. Safe. I want to be close to her. When Lydia smiles, well, I just want more.
So, when she called to say she was coming over to cut some crabapple branches, I made sure I was around. I casually stopped by in my truck, as if I was on my way out.
A tarp cloth is spread out on the ground and Lydia is sawing off a branch close to the trunk at head height. She’s wearing work clothes - jeans, a cotton shirt, and rubber boots. She’s wearing safety goggles and protective gloves. Her hair is tied back in a scruffy ponytail which I find adorable. She expertly saws through the wood. Her friend holds the branch ready to take its weight. They exchange words and smiles as the branches are gently placed with others on the ground cloth. They seem pleased with their harvest as I slow the truck to a stop and wind down the window.
“Hey, do you need a hand?” I say leaning my elbow out of the window. My other hand is on the steering wheel. The engine idles in neutral.
“Hey, no thank you. We’ve got this.” Lydia says smiling. She lifts her goggles onto the top of her head, but she doesn’t make eye contact. “In fact, we’re almost done.” She introduces her friend. She looks at the ground, then someplace middle distance, but not at me. Then she lays another branch carefully on the tarp. Lydia is reserved and distant, so I shift the truck into gear and prepare to roll away, down the hill, to the gate.
Before I go, I open my mouth to ask about the prize draw and why she didn’t enter. It’s something that's been puzzling me. After I’d announced the winner, when everyone had gone home, I checked the pieces of paper with names written on. I couldn’t find one from Lydia. It might have been lost or blown away, but Lydia was conspicuous by her absence. Did she really not want to enter? There were six pieces with Sheena’s name. And here’s what I find strange. Five of the six entries are just the name and an initial, written with blue pencil, in a kind of curly script, and one is the complete name, written in black ink using block capitals. Either Sheena must have really wanted to win and wrote her name multiple times to increase her chances. Or, and stranger still, someone else really wanted Sheena to win. I’m curious, but then it’s not worth mentioning. I drew a winner and that’s all that matters. So, I change my mind about saying anything about Sheena’s multiple entries and tell Lydia that I’m going away.
“I’ll be gone for the holidays,” I say without revealing my emotions. Although my gut twists as I say the words. “I’m leaving next week.”
Lydia stops what she’s doing and stares at me looking confused, then she appears to be concerned, alarmed almost. “Oh, really? That’s so soon,” she says. Her eyes are wide. Does she want me to stay? Her expression is difficult to decipher.
I tell her that I have some clients to visit but then I’ll have Thanksgiving with my family. Then I say, “I hope the crabapples work out for the wedding.”
I wanted to say more but her friend appeared from the other side of a tree, so I thought better of it. As I drive away, I feel like a prize idiot, so I stop again at the gate. I’m about to throw the truck into reverse, back up, and ask Lydia out. But then, there’s little point because I’m leaving soon.
I focus on the road ahead and keep driving but Lydia is on my mind. She’s a conundrum, alright. Today she was polite and courteous, and I didn’t feel anything more from her. Perhaps being friends is all I can expect or hope for. Do I want anything more? I keep thinking about it, so I guess the answer is, yes. I do want something more.
When I get back from the holidays, that’ll be the time to take the step. I’ll ask her out and we’ll get to know each other and see how things go. I mean, I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s reeling me in, hook, line, and sinker. I need to give it my best shot and find out if there’s anything more than friendship between us. Or maybe I’ll just have to be content with the tragic truth, that you always want what you can’t get. I’m sure there’s a sad country song about that.
Later, when I get home again, Maisy calls. She says she likes the photos I sent her, and she wants to find out how the Open Day went.
“It went well, thank you.” I pace a track up and down the lounge carpet and look out at my newly pruned crabapple trees. I smile to myself. I didn’t even know I had crabapples until a pretty lady showed up and told me.
“You mean it went off without a hitch?” Maisy asks, needling in her teasing way. “No one died?”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Maybe. A little.” She laughs. “So, you followed my instructions, and everything turned out perfect like I knew it would.” Maisy gloats.
“Ah, yes. Well, I suppose the only teensy thing that was a bit chaotic was the prize draw. When we asked the guests to write their names on pieces of paper and put them in the hat.”
“Okay. And you got them to do that first, before leaving the barn to watch the horse demos?”
“No. Afterwards. Because I forgot.”
Maisy is laughing. “For heaven’s sake. I leave you alone for five minutes and there’s mayhem.”
“It turned out okay. Nobody died. And we had a winner who was extremely excited to win.” I didn’t tell Maisy about Sheena’s cheating tactic.
“Next time, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I deflect Maisy’s attention away from my organizational shortfalls and tell her that everyone enjoyed the demonstration. “And we got our first bookings, so the event has already paid for itself. I’m happy.”
“I’m so glad. I wish I was there.” The line is quiet because I know she wants me to say, “I wish you were here too,” but that’s not true. I’m glad that Maisy is far away.
So, instead, I say, “It was great, Maisy. I have some more photos for you. I’ll email them to you today, if you want?”
“That would be good. Thanks. I’ll update your IG and FB.” There’s a pause in conversation then Maisy says, “So, I guess I’ll see you at Thanksgiving?”
“Sure will.”
I’m looking forward to some family time. My mom goes all out at Thanksgiving and Christmas. She has no off switch when it comes to festive food. I swear we eat leftovers well into the new year. My mom loves having us all together. I think she believes we wouldn’t come and see her and Dad unless there is a mountain of our favorite treats that she remembers from when we were kids. Every year I tell her that she’s gone too far. And every year she tells me not to be a Scrooge about it.
“Hey, Luke, when I see you, you can tell me all about how things are going with Crabapple Lady. You know, the pretty woman you met at the hotel?”
“What do mean, Maisy?” I say knowing full well what she means. But there’s no way I’m going to open up to my meddling niece.
“Luke.” She sighs down the line. “You’re a red-blooded man with needs and wants...”
“Bye Maisy. Say hi to everyone and I’ll see y’all soon.” I hang up the phone in the nick of time. I don’t need to be reminded that I’m a lonesome cowboy singing the blues.