12. Victoria
12
VICTORIA
A fter a full afternoon with little Kevin from down the road, I feel a little more relaxed as I finish drying my hair. He is a good kid. He has been here every day after school to milk the large cow that seems content, and he takes the milk home with him.
I realize I have no idea where exactly he lives, but if he needs milk for his family, I am happy to continue providing it. We spent time together today and he showed me how to handle the milking process. I was one hundred percent awkward, but I got the hang of it eventually. He tells me I should also milk her twice a day, so I might give it a try once renovations have finished.
The house looks amazing. After Jasmine and Lacy came over on the weekend for wine night, they ended up coming back the next day to give me a hand. Plus, with a surprise visit from Bob from the hardware store, who dropped by with a delivery and ended up staying, the four of us got a solid two coats on the outside by the end of the weekend, and I finished off the inside myself after painting each night this week. I am exhausted, but the place is already brighter, and when the sun shines through, it looks even better.
Now, as I walk around freshly showered from our yard work and cleaning up, I throw on my robe over my underwear and tie it around my waist, then duck outside to look for fresh eggs to make a late afternoon snack.
I find three eggs in the chicken coop and smile as I place them in my basket, next to the herbs I picked earlier from the small vegetable patch Marie started, feeling like a lady of the land. Locking up the chicken enclosure, I sit on the porch steps of the house and bask in the late afternoon sunshine. I couldn’t do this back in the city. It feels nice to have the sunlight on my bare legs, and I close my eyes, soaking up the warmth.
My cell ringing beside me interrupts my peaceful moment, and I grab it, already having a feeling who it is. And I’m right as I see Josh’s name on the screen. This is the fourth time he’s called just today. I should block him, but I answer instead.
“Josh, what do you want?” I ask through my irritation.
“At long last, you answer,” he says smugly.
“What do you want?” I ask again, no warmth in my tone. I shiver a little, my choice of being outside with just a robe probably not as smart as I first thought.
“I want to talk to you. We left everything so… uncertain.”
There was nothing uncertain about the way he had sex in my bed with another woman.
“We are over, Josh. You need to stop calling me. It is getting ridiculous.” My shoulders feel tense. I wish he would just let me get on with my life.
“We are not over, Victoria. I love you. We are getting married!”
Even though he can’t see me, I roll my eyes in annoyance.
“The wedding is canceled. I am not marrying you. We are no longer together,” I tell him like he doesn’t already know, ready to end this pointless conversation.
“Fiona says you’re traveling. Where are you?” He switches tack, and I almost get whiplash.
“I’m with family. Now stop calling and move on. Goodbye, Josh.” I hang up immediately, not wanting to entertain him further. No sooner have I ended the call than he calls again. So I go back to ignoring him. Eventually, he will get the hint. I hope.
Pushing him out of my mind, I snap a shot of my garden and basket of eggs with my bare painted toes in the background for my socials, quickly posting it with the hashtag #ladyoftheland. I take a few moments to look through and see that my followers have grown rapidly since just the other night, my mother loving the photo instantaneously, which makes me smile. I scroll through, looking at my previous posts, before my phone shrieks in my hand, and Fiona’s name lights up the screen.
“Hey,” I say quickly. This call is already better than the last.
“That is such a cute photo. Are they fresh eggs?” she asks, and I giggle.
“Straight from the coop!” I tell her with a broad smile.
“It looks better there than this stupid cubicle,” she huffs out, and I imagine her typing away at her computer in the small office in the city, the iridescent lighting showering her from above. I am even more grateful for the fact that I am here, in the fresh air, in the sunlight, experiencing something new.
“The farm is great, and I have so many photos. I keep finding new things.” The property provides fantastic content from the garden, the views, the plants. Even the shed, the equipment, and the truck. It all paints a picture of small-town, rural life. My new life . Looking back on everything now, I feel a sense of accomplishment at how I have been able to not only make the move, but also start to get the place in order and meet new friends.
“Any nice men there?” she teases, and I roll my lips.
“None. I have a very annoying neighbor, though, and he wants my property…” I’ve been meaning to share this with her.
“Oh, interesting! Tell me more.”
This is probably the most exciting thing she’s heard today from her eager tone. It makes me laugh.
“His name’s Tanner, and he owns Whiteman’s Whiskey. He is somewhat of a town hero, it seems. Everyone likes him and everyone knows him. His distillery is next door and he wants to buy this place. Obviously, I told him no. But Fiona, he is like… God’s gift to women everywhere.” Just thinking about him, my heart races. I can’t remember a man who has gotten under my skin as much as he has. “But of course, he is arrogant and annoying and…”
“Hmm… you said that already,” she teases me, and I huff .
“He is older, at least a decade or two older than me.”
“So? Who cares about age?” She snorts at me like I am being ridiculous, and she is right, age is nothing but a number. It certainly hasn’t stopped the visions I have been having of him at night. The very naughty images. Clearly, I am just having crazy thoughts. Who in their right mind would have sexy thoughts about their maddening neighbor? I should be thinking of ways to get rid of him, the same way he is thinking about me. I know all he wants is my property.
“You’re right. What are you up to anyway?” I ask, changing the subject before she puts any more crazy thoughts in my head.
“Well, I wanted to ensure farm life was still treating you well and to also let you know that Josh has started calling me, continually asking where you are. Apparently, he has been banging on your apartment door and the super told him you have left for a few months,” she says, and a groan rumbles from my chest.
“I just spoke to him and confirmed that we are no longer together. Hopefully he stops calling you now too. I have no idea why he even cares.”
I might be exhausted with all the work I am doing here, but I am also happy. The happiest I have been in a long time. My mother was right; this change in my life has been so good, and with spring now in the air, I feel my season of change blooming as Whispers slowly becomes home. The last thing I need is my cheating ex to cause trouble.
“He is a cheating asshole. Probably thought his life was planned out. Work on Wall Street, marry a smart, beautiful woman, but keep some candy on the side. He is such a moron. What do you want me to tell him?” she asks, and I have no idea. I am a far cry from the city professional I was. It is like my life has done a complete one-eighty.
“God, if Josh could see me now.” I laugh at myself. Bare legs out, sitting on my porch in a robe, surrounded by grass and plants and a goat.
“If you look so delightful, take a selfie and put it up on your channel. I can let him know your new social media details and it might work in scaring him away.”
“I have a feeling nothing will scare him away,” I tell her honestly. It isn’t like he is just calling occasionally. His calls to me are increasing to numerous times a day. It’s gotten disturbing.
“Maybe take a selfie with that hot neighbor of yours and post that instead. I just searched him up online, and he is pretty damn good-looking… and rich. Hell, did you know he is a billionaire?” She gasps.
“I didn’t, but I'm not surprised. He came in here flashing his checkbook. Money or not, he is just another man who won't take no for an answer.” I haven’t seen him since the bar. Since he offered me a shot of whiskey and yet again asked about buying my property. He is persistent.
“At least you always have Garry,” she quips, and I look over to see where my friendly goat is, and he is looking straight at me before he bleats. He is getting fat. I am sure he is bigger than he was when I first arrived. It must be all this long grass he is eating. At least I don’t have to mow it with him around .
Hearing a weird thud in the distance, I stand up, looking around, trying to figure out what it is. A black dot in the sky comes closer before it is almost right on top of me. A helicopter? I squint into the sun as it flies over my property. Shiny black with gold writing on the side. It is so close it is blowing my trees and causes Garry to start running around berserk. Shit, I left the gate open .
“What is that noise?” I hear Fiona ask.
“My horrible neighbor! I gotta go. Call you later.” Throwing my cell down near my basket of produce, I jump from the porch.
“Garry!” I scream over the loud noise, hoping to get his attention, but it’s no use. Barefoot, I break into a run over to the far side of the yard to shut the gate before he runs through it. Just as the chopper passes by, I get there in time, puffing out a breath as I lock it. My feet are no longer nice and clean, but rather a little dirty and muddy from the run. As I look back at Garry, he’s running in the other direction, then putting his head in my basket, eating some of the herbs I picked from the garden.
“Garry! No!” I scold him and take off running again, the grass and dirt underfoot making me cringe as it squishes through my toes, before I stumble a little. “Dammit.” I should have just gotten changed and put shoes on like a normal person after my shower. Taking another a step, I stumble forward, feeling a sharp pain shoot through my ankle, enough to take my breath away before I start to fall.
“Ahhhh!” I yell out to no one as I face-plant onto the ground, my body landing with a thud.
“Oohhhhhh.” I groan, seeing stars for a moment as my nose throbs. Pushing off the muddy soil, I try to breathe through the pain in my ankle. I look down at my feet, seeing blood and a cut across my skin. It isn’t too deep, but it stings badly. Of course this would only happen to me.
When I notice my robe, I curse. I might be good at interior design, but right now, I look like a zombie, my robe streaked with mud and probably Garry’s shit. The new black lace underwear set I have on underneath is the only thing on my body that looks remotely clean, but clearly, it isn’t farm appropriate. So much for romanticizing my life today. Who wears lace underwear when they’re just walking around at home, alone?
I try to stand but hiss as the pressure on my ankle increases the sting. Between my throbbing face and ankle, I am sore from tip to toe. Walking is out of the question. I can’t even hop because I feel a little dizzy. There is no fence nearby to pull myself up on, and I look around but can’t find any stray sticks to use as a walking stick.
Feeling the sting in my ankle increasing, as is the blood flow, I look up at the house now fifty yards away, seeing my basket of eggs and herbs sitting on the porch near my cell phone. Garry stares at me like he is wondering what the hell I am doing, but I don’t miss the green herbs dangling from his lips as he continues to chew.
“ This can’t be happening …” I moan, frustrated that I have hurt myself. I feel my nose and move it a little to ensure it isn’t broken because it still throbs. It isn’t, thank God, but my eyes water at the continual sting pu lsating through my cheekbones. I hope I don’t get black eyes.
I have no idea what to do. I don’t know exactly how bad it is, but I have a feeling walking isn’t a good option. As I sit here, I pull my short robe down to try to cover my bare thighs, my eyes flicking around my property, hoping that some idea comes to me. I try to crab walk, but I can’t even do that because that causes the blood to run a little more.
Lying back on the grass, I gaze at the blue sky above me to gather my thoughts, feeling helpless and stupid. If I can’t make it to the house to at least get my phone, I will probably be here all night until Kevin comes back and finds me tomorrow.
I swallow the thought of being so alone out here, looking across the long grass at what hit my leg. And that’s when I spot a steel stake sticking out of the ground, barely above the grass, almost completely hidden. I have no idea where that came from. It isn’t mine, and I assume it must be old, but it looks new, still silver and shiny.
“Come on, Victoria, think!” I scold myself out loud, which causes a bleat from Garry. I give him the evil eye. We are no longer friends.
“I should have let you run out of the gate,” I grumble to him.
I see and hear no one, and with no way to call anyone and no visitors expected, I do the only thing I can think of. I pull my arms into my torso tight and start to roll. Like a pencil, I roll slowly along the grass. I remember doing this at the park as a kid. Back then, it was fun, and I giggled nonstop. My mom took photos. But now, as mud and Garry’s shit coat my bare legs and beautiful satin robe, and with my ankle throbbing and bleeding, joy is not the emotion I am experiencing.
I scrunch my nose as my face and hair get coated in mud as well. I hear Garry bleat again, and I stop mid-roll, looking at him, his eyes watching me like he is thoroughly confused now.
“Don't laugh! This is all your fault!” I chastise him before he goes back to eating the herbs from my basket and I focus on what I am doing. My roll is slow, my ankle painful, so I close my eyes, grit my teeth, and take a deep breath before continuing.
“I love this farm. I love this farm. I love this farm,” I start to chant quietly to myself. At this rate, I should get to my phone before Garry eats it.
I hope.