Chapter Five
CHAPTER FIVE
R ORY STOPPED WHEN she and her sisters got to the main street of town. They had parked up at the other end and were walking to the grocery store, enjoying the warm early afternoon air that was going to turn heavy and hot by the time four o’clock rolled around.
They might own their own farm store, but they still had to eat processed foods. They weren’t animals.
There was a banner stretched over the road.
“They are having a parade.”
“I told you they were,” said Fia.
“I sort of didn’t... I mean I said it, I knew it. But...”
She kept thinking about Gideon as he had been last night. He’d said he didn’t want this. He’d been...so dark. So angry. It was such a contrast to who he’d been before.
There was a time when she’d thought she’d known him.
When she’d chattered to him while he drove her and Lydia to school. When he’d been in high school and they were in middle school, he’d taken her every day. And she still couldn’t quite tell if he even really remembered who she was. The first time it hadn’t seemed like he did.
Last night, it seemed like maybe he did know her. But he didn’t seem happy to see her.
He was entirely different to the person he’d been back then.
The man he was now...
Maybe he wouldn’t come to town. She had to trust Lydia to know what was best for her brother. Except... Lydia didn’t know him now, either.
He was wounded. Deep. Even if there weren’t scars that she could see on his body.
She wanted to help. But she didn’t know what help looked like for him right now. He was here. He’d chosen to come back home.
They went all the way down to John’s grocery store, and perused the aisles.
“PowerBait?” Quinn asked.
Her sister’s out-of-left-field question burst her deep thought bubble. “I’m good, Quinn. Thanks.”
Quinn grinned.
“How is Levi?” Fia asked.
Quinn practically beamed. “Oh, he’s great. We’re great.” Quinn had of course moved in with Levi recently, after her endeavor to get road access from his ranch to their store had turned into something unexpected for the both of them.
Quinn was happy. And Rory was happy for her sister. Even if the change in Quinn’s life made Rory feel weird about the lack of progression in her own. Even if it had been something of a trigger.
Quinn had managed to do things Rory hadn’t.
She’d had no trouble being away for four years at school. And she kept her focus the entire time.
Quinn knew who she was.
Quinn also knew that none of them needed PowerBait.
“I do want Pop-Tarts,” said Rory, grabbing the cart and taking it down the aisle that had breakfast food. She also got some syrup and pancake mix. They were all great bakers, but the truth was, she just didn’t think anything was as good as pancake mix where you just added water. They were fluffier, and they were easier. And there was simply no reason not to use a mix when the mix was good.
Even though Quinn lived next door now, she did often still come over for breakfast. Alaina less so, but she lived a few miles across the Four Corners property, at McCloud’s Landing. Her husband, Gus, was the oldest brother of that clan, and their responsibilities on the ranch kept them busy. That was the other difference. Alaina worked at McCloud’s. Her passion was horses, and it had taken her there.
It isn’t a move to Boston, though, is it?
She shrugged off her feeling of guilt. It was funny, to think of Alaina as being distant when she was quite literally on the same property.
And had a baby. She was busy. Just because she didn’t always come over for breakfast, or go shopping with them, didn’t mean she wasn’t around. And it didn’t mean that Rory was going to be completely disconnected when she moved away.
One thing about being beige: it wasn’t complex.
Her move toward a new life and a new Rory was... Well it wasn’t simple, that was for sure. It made her excited and regretful at the same time. Happy for her sisters and a little melancholy that they’d moved on to a place Rory hadn’t.
Complicated wasn’t her favorite.
She was in the middle of a lot of complicated right now, for someone who had never really dealt in that before.
“You’re scowling at breakfast cereal,” said Fia. “Is there anything you want to tell us about what Honey Nut Cheerios did to you?”
“No,” she said, moving away from the box.
She wasn’t really a cereal girl. She liked pastries, pancakes, or at least a full two-egg breakfast. Otherwise, she might as well just have nothing.
“Well, anything else you want to tell us?”
“I’m good. I was just thinking about moving.”
“I don’t like to talk about you moving,” said Quinn.
“I know. But it’s happening in a little less than a month.”
“And were you feeling particularly sad about leaving us for the city life while standing in John’s looking at the array of goods on offer?”
“Actually, yes. I was.”
“It’s the PowerBait,” Quinn stage-whispered.
“You don’t have to go,” said Fia. “No one will think less of you if you change your mind.”
“I’m not going to change my mind.”
They took all their items and went to the front of the store. “Hi, Fia. Hi, Quinn.” John paused and he looked over at Rory. “Hi.”
He didn’t know her name. John, who knew her family well enough, who had known all the girls since they were children, remembered everybody’s name but hers. And this was the problem. This was the absolute problem.
“Rory,” she said, finding her voice, some strength, from somewhere deep inside her that she had never really tested before. “My name is Rory.”
John turned red, and she banished that feeling of guilt that she’d made him uncomfortable. He made her uncomfortable. He hadn’t remembered her. Beige sweater.
They finished paying and went outside. She felt a little bit shaky from the exertion of the last few moments.
“What’s wrong?” Fia asked.
“I’m going to leave. I’m going to...start a new life somewhere else, and the people in my hometown barely know who I am.”
“It isn’t like they socialize with us.”
“Easy for you to say, Fia. People remember your name.”
They walked down the street and put their groceries in the car.
“Let’s have some lunch,” said Fia.
“I ate at Becky’s yesterday.”
“Yeah, and when you’re in Boston, you’ll have options. Look forward to that. Today, we have Becky’s.”
She made a big show of rolling her eyes and stamping her foot as they walked into Becky’s, and then felt immediately embarrassed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make a scene.”
Both Quinn and Fia looked at her like she’d grown another head.
“A scene?” Fia asked. “That wasn’t a scene. This is a scene. ‘What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east.’” She held her hand out.
“You know what I mean,” Rory said.
“Rory, that was the most least dramatic thing.”
“How can it be the most least dramatic ?”
“You know what I mean. You think that you’re being pushy, or silly, but really, you’re barely showing anything. You are the most—”
“You’re adorable ,” said Quinn quickly.
“Thank you, Quinn,” said Rory, feeling annoyed. “But I don’t need you to lie.”
“I’m not lying. You are adorable. But, it takes somebody perceptive to sense a shift in your moods. It isn’t like any of the dining patrons knew that you were being overdramatic about anything. Because you aren’t overdramatic.”
She scowled. “Well, I’m trying to inject my life with...” Drama was maybe the wrong word.
Drama reminded her of having beer poured on her. Or of her diary being passed around...
There was no need to start thinking of The Diary Incident.
So she didn’t.
Her sisters were wonderful. She loved them so much. But being insulated by them wasn’t helping her break out and she just...needed something.
“I’m trying for a little mild reinvention. So maybe when I come back and visit from Boston, you’ll get a respectable foot stomp out of me.”
They were seated at a table near the window, and that was when she noticed that across the room were Lydia, her mother and Gideon.
And suddenly, the manager of Becky’s was over in that spot and held up a big metal pan, which she then banged on with a wooden spoon. “Now, everybody look over here.”
She could see Gideon tense, could see him get stone-faced.
You couldn’t go making loud noises around a veteran. Even Rory knew that, and she didn’t know any veterans except for...Gideon, she supposed, and she didn’t know much about his situation, but she knew enough not to go banging pots next to his head.
He was clearly unhappy.
But everyone in the restaurant looked at him.
“Hometown hero Gideon Payne is back. Gideon got a Purple Heart for outstanding acts of bravery in Afghanistan. And, of course, his dinners will always be on the house. Heroes don’t pay.”
Everyone in the restaurant cheered.
“Of course, the banner outside is meant to mark his return, and there is going to be a procession of classic cars acting as a parade. Gideon, you’re welcome to ride in one of the convertibles. With the top down.”
“That’s very kind, Sarah,” said Gideon, his voice sounding strained, and nothing like she recalled from back before. He couldn’t smile. Or chose not to, she wasn’t sure. “I don’t think I’ll ride, but I will wave to say thanks for the procession.” He frowned. “And the hamburgers. The free hamburgers. Thanks.”
He didn’t appear to be having flashbacks or anything. Which was a relief. But no thanks to the pot-banging. Though maybe he didn’t have flashbacks. She didn’t know.
“How fun,” said Fia. “We get to see Gideon’s parade.”
“He doesn’t want a parade,” said Rory.
“Who doesn’t want a parade?” Quinn asked.
Well. Rory did. Kind of. Maybe. She wanted to feel special. And she didn’t.
But Gideon didn’t want one and shouldn’t someone care about that?
“He looks uncomfortable,” Rory said.
“That could just be indigestion. He had the chili fries,” Quinn said.
She winced. “Bad move.”
“Indeed.”
They got their hamburgers, which they knew were safe, and she looked over at Gideon’s table. Lydia waved at her, and she waved back, which drew Gideon’s attention. He didn’t acknowledge her. His face stayed set like stone, his posture rigid.
She’d put her hand on him last night. She’d been in his kitchen.
He’d driven her to school every day.
He was acting like none of that meant anything.
Maybe it doesn’t?
Well, that would be on brand for her.
She went back to eating her food. They finished around the same time as the Paynes, and when they filtered outside, there wasn’t just a procession of cars, but a brass band. She grimaced as everything unfolded, and a kid standing down on the street corner unleashed a handful of balloons. And Gideon stood there unsmiling.
The band crashed symbols, and she winced. They shuffled together, and that meant that she was standing right beside Gideon. And in spite of herself, she moved closer to him.
“I’m sorry about...all the noise.”
He was watching the proceedings with a blank look on his face. He had been polite in the restaurant, but he wasn’t going to pretend he was enjoying this.
Or maybe he couldn’t. She hadn’t seen him smile since he’d returned. He always looked...distant. Like he didn’t want to be here, or was surprised he was.
“I don’t mind the noise,” he said.
“Oh, that’s...that’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“Everyone is happy to see you.”
He didn’t respond to that.
When the parade of cars was done, the kid at the end of the block was left looking up sadly at the balloons, as if it only just occurred to him that balloons weren’t boomerangs, and when you released them, they didn’t come back.
And when she turned her attention away from the kid to where Gideon had been, Gideon was gone.
She turned and started to walk in the direction she thought he might have gone in, but Lydia approached and grabbed hold of her. “Well, that was...not good.”
“Yes,” Rory agreed.
“He isn’t even the same person anymore, Ro. I don’t know what to do.”
She had been thinking a similar thing, but she felt immediately defensive. “Nobody asked him if that’s what he wanted. You know that’s why he ended up coming and laying low for a few days.”
“I know but...everyone is excited to see him. Why can’t he... Why can’t he pretend to enjoy it?”
“Because he can’t pretend.” Rory knew it. Just from the little bit of interaction she’d had with him, she knew that.
Lydia looked contrite. “I know. Nobody has ever once offered to throw me a parade. They never even come close. So I guess it’s hard for me to imagine getting treated that special and not caring.” She grimaced. “I think that’s part of my issue with all this. I don’t want him to not be him. I also always wished I were him, a little bit. Don’t get me wrong, I had it good. I always have. But he... He’s Gideon Payne. Everyone pales in comparison.”
“I get that,” Rory said. “I don’t think it’s not caring. But it wasn’t for him. It was for everybody else here. Because if it was really for him, then they would have asked what he wanted, right?”
“He would’ve liked it. He liked it when they sent him off the first time.”
“He was eighteen. And he isn’t now. Do you want the same things now that you did when you were eighteen?”
“Some of them,” said Lydia.
“I don’t. When I was eighteen, I just wanted to be safe. I went to college, but what I wanted was to not be uncomfortable. And I don’t want that anymore. I’m completely different. Inside. Now I’m working to figure out how to be different outside. It’s okay to not be the person that you were.”
She didn’t know why she was defending him. Or why she was acting like she knew. It was just that she kept seeing his tortured expression from yesterday, the blankness from today.
He was...he was quite frankly the most amazing person she’d ever known back when she was younger.
She’d had a crush on him. But more than that, she’d been awed by him like everyone else was. Seeing him like this now did something to her. Something beyond words.
He had been formative to her. She’d never felt important. But during the drive to school, he’d made her feel like she might be. He’d listened to her. He’d let her talk his ear off. And maybe he didn’t really remember it now, but she did.
She didn’t want to just leave him in this state. And somehow it felt inextricably linked to her own shift. She needed change. He did, too.
She wanted...she wanted to help. It was more than an item on a list. She’d seen his desolation. It mattered to her.
“Okay. Point taken,” Lydia said. “I won’t be grumpy at him. It was just... I was excited to spend some time with him and everything kind of intruded.”
“Well, you should go over to Sullivan’s Point and have a visit. The cabin is isolated. It might be a good way for you guys to catch up.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she said.
“I could talk to him...”
“I send you to have one conversation with my brother and suddenly you’re an expert on him?”
There wasn’t any heat in Lydia’s words. She could just see that maybe she was confused and a little bit exasperated.
“You two were always close before.”
“Yes,” said Lydia. “Before. He used to be easy. He was the kind of person that made you feel like no time had passed since you’d seen him. And now it’s just obvious that I haven’t seen my brother in a couple of years. And that maybe we don’t have a very close relationship. And I don’t know him very well. The way he was before, he made everybody feel like they knew him. He was magic like that. And now he’s...he’s not that.”
She could see that. And she could understand why it was upsetting. To feel like maybe you’d misread a relationship your whole life.
“I guess you just have to figure out how to meet him where he’s at.”
Rory didn’t know where that had come from. Except she knew what it was like to not fit. And for no one around you to try and make room for the way that you were. She knew what it was like to feel just a little bit off. To not even have the capacity to be a statistic, because she was far too strange.
And it would’ve been nice if somebody would’ve just gotten to know her. Would’ve taken the time. To see that she was more than quiet and awkward if she had time to warm up. That she was more than glasses and scrawny limbs and tripping over her own feet.
It would’ve been nice if somebody would’ve tried to rearrange themselves a little bit, so she didn’t have to do all of it.
Maybe that was what he needed. To not have to try to jump to reach people’s expectations. The expectation was that he was a man who wanted a parade. He could be a man who deserved one, and not have one. He could not want one. It didn’t mean there was something wrong with him. It just meant he was different.
“Hopefully I’ll see you around Sullivan’s Point.”
“We have to do dinner in Mapleton before you leave. Something to celebrate.”
“We will. I’ll text you some days and you can tell me what works best for you.”
“Sounds good. Then I can make a reservation.”
“Okay.”
She separated from her friend and walked toward her sisters, who had already headed back toward the car. It made her sad to think about how Lydia didn’t feel close to Gideon.
She had always felt close to her sisters, even though she was sort of the odd one.
And she supposed she should be thankful for that. She hoped that moving away from them wouldn’t dampen that closeness.
“I don’t want us to lose touch. Because I need to be with the people who can tell me I’m not being a drama queen even when I feel like I am. It seems important.”
“You’re never going to get rid of us. Not that easily,” Fia said.
“I don’t know. I’m the beige sweater of the Sullivan family.”
Fia laughed. “That is ridiculous. You are not the beige sweater, Rory.”
“John didn’t even remember my name.”
“Well, what does that have to do with you? That’s about him.”
But she wanted the people around her to see her differently. So it didn’t matter why. She decided that tomorrow she was going to devote a portion of the day to her list. And she was going to tackle it in earnest. Because it was important. When she was alone, she took it out again: Throw a tantrum .
All right, maybe that one wasn’t especially aspirational. But she was a little bit disappointed by how not dramatic her earlier tantrum had been. She was aiming for reinvention, and that reinvention was going to start here.