Chapter 19
CHAPTER 19
ARLOW
I’ve resisted contacting Calli, despite the urge to apologize again or try to get her to talk to me. She’s upset with me and has every right to be, but I hate how we left things between us, especially after the night we had together. Mistake or not, it was the best night of my life. She let herself be so vulnerable with me only to find out hours later what I’d done before we met. I’m not sure if she’s angry or hurt or both. I just want to fix it. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt her.
After not hearing from her the last few days, I finally texted her this morning since she’s due back any time. She left me on read.
Ten hours later, she hasn’t responded. I’m not going to be able to concentrate until I see her get home safely tonight, even if she doesn’t want to hear from me. Instead of working in the barn as I have been almost nonstop, I sit on my porch. I’m usually an extremely patient person but every minute that I don’t see headlights coming down our road feels like an eternity.
To try to distract myself, I open the app to the new trail cameras I installed in the woods a few days ago. Only two of them receive a strong enough signal for me to get real time notifications and see the pictures on the cloud. The others will require me to pull the memory cards manually.
Two videos wait for me. In one, a deer wanders past, pausing near the bridge to drink from the stream. In another, a rabbit hops by. No men in masks or other trespassers. I’ve installed some security cameras around my barn and house as well. A package holding cameras for Calli’s place waits for her on my kitchen table. I’m not sure if Handleman is who I’m dealing with but I’m not taking any chances.
Minutes tick into an hour and then another. It’s getting late, our time of night, and I won’t be surprised if it’s the middle of the night before she turns into the driveway. My phone buzzes on the table beside me and my heart leaps at the sight of her name. Until I read her reply.
Calli
I’m not angry. Added some concerts to my trip so I’m not coming back for a couple of weeks.
What? Without giving it a thought, I call her. It goes to voicemail, and after struggling with what to say, I hang up without leaving a message. As soon as I do, another text comes through.
Calli
I need some space. Your secret is safe. We can talk when I get back.
Goddamn it. I shouldn’t have touched her. I fucked everything up. She doesn’t even want to hear from me. My instinct is to apologize again and ask her to talk to me for a minute but what’s that going to solve? She’s told me what she needs. Space. The ache that swells inside me at the desire to hear her voice and know that we’re going to be okay after this is excruciating but it doesn’t override that fact.
My fingers hover over my phone, hesitating. What is she doing right now? Driving on a dark highway to another concert? Partying at a bar or hotel? Camping out for the night in that RV? It shouldn’t matter. She isn’t mine. Didn’t I just tell her that I couldn’t be with her? I have no right to be jealous that she’s with that stupid manbun hipster fuck who couldn’t wait to hug her before climbing into her car.
Finally, I type out a reply.
Me
I understand.
What else can I say? She reads it immediately and doesn’t respond.
The silence closes in around me as I set my phone down. Two more weeks. It feels like an unbearable amount of time to have this uncertainty between us hanging above my head.
Fuck. I get to my feet and head for the barn. There’s no need for the mask or glasses. No livestreaming is going to happen. Instead, I uncover the canvas of Calliope and begin to work on drawing the light in her eyes that I always see in her.
It’s dawn before I stumble bleary eyed back to my house to fall into my bed, but my sleep is restless and short. It’s fine. The earlier I get to Paducah the better. Before I go, I stop by Calli’s cabin to fill her bird feeders and note that her bird bath needs to be cleaned out soon. I’ll do it tomorrow when I finish getting the last of our firewood stacked.
It doesn’t take me long to find the address I’m looking for. Chris Handleman is supposed to be living with his mother, Grace, while he’s on parole. An easy internet search gave me her address. Maybe it’s a good thing that Calli is gone for a little while longer. It gives me time to figure out if Handleman is the thief that terrified her in the woods.
My plan is simple. Park and watch the house to see if he’s living there, then follow him. See where he goes, if he’s coming anywhere near my house, and maybe locate my ATV, though that’s low on the list.
Fortunately, his mother lives on a busy road lined with houses and duplexes. With the constant flow of traffic and people, a man sitting in his truck all day won’t be suspicious. Nobody comes or goes from the small house with the crooked front porch for three hours. I’m about to take a break and find somewhere to get a coffee when the door opens.
It takes me a moment to recognize her when she steps out. With her shoulders slumped and her head down, she doesn’t look up once as she trudges to a small white car and gets inside. Grace Handleman is a husk of the woman who once stood over me and told me to rot in hell. Of course she is. Look how much she’s lost, what I took from her.
After she drives away, I stay well past dark, but there’s no sign of anyone else, and the lights only go on inside the house when Grace returns. If Chris is living here, he isn’t around today.
That’s how I spend the next week, watching the Handleman house at different times of day and night, trying to catch a glimpse of him. The only people who come and go are Grace and a few other older women.
It doesn’t tell me much, other than he’s probably not staying where he’s supposed to be while on parole. Maybe plans changed and he’s nowhere near here. Who knows? Nothing else has happened at my place, and I’ve kept a close eye on Calli’s cabin as well. Nothing has shown up on the trail cameras. I’m not sure what to think anymore.
It’d be much easier to watch Calli’s place if I put her cameras up, but I’d need to get inside. After shopping for a new ATV that will be delivered tomorrow, I stop by Lucky’s Diner just before closing time to talk to Silver.
The place is empty. Silver sits behind the counter, grinning at something on her phone and does a double take when she sees me walk in. “Do you have a pick-up order? I didn’t get anything.”
“No, I was hoping to talk to you for a second.”
Her eyebrows raise a bit, but she nods and lays her phone down. “Did something happen?”
“No, but you know about the thefts we had and everything?”
“Of course.”
“I put some trail cameras up and security cameras around my place. I have some for Calli too, but I need to get inside her cabin to connect them to her internet. Mine won’t reach.”
“So call her.”
“Uh, yeah,” I sigh, running my hand over my chin. “She doesn’t really want to hear from me right now. I thought if you could let me in long enough to?—”
Silver holds her palm up. “Let me stop you right there. You want me to let you put up cameras monitoring the home of my friend who won’t talk to you.”
“Calli knows I ordered them, and she wants them installed. I’ll hand over the access to them when she returns, and she can reset the passwords.”
“Absolutely not. First of all, I assume that’s illegal. My mother might own the house, but we aren’t living in it. That permission needs to come straight from her.” She bats down my next suggestion before I can say it. “And I’m not interrupting her fun to ask her for you. Wait until she gets back. Let her have some time without worrying about that shit.”
She’s probably right about that. I know Calli wouldn’t have minded the cameras being put up, but she asked for space. “You’re right. It can wait.” The next question out of my mouth can’t be stopped. “Have you heard from her lately? Is she…doing okay?”
“She’s having the time of her life. Lots of pictures at the beach and backstage at a concert.”
“Good. Okay. I’m going to go.”
“Hang on a second,” she says as I start toward the exit. She disappears behind the kitchen door then emerges with a bag in her hand and holds it out to me, her lips twitching into a restrained grin. “Had some extras.”
Two big apple fritters sit inside. “Thank you.”
It’s been eighteen days since Calli left and I haven’t heard a word from her. She said a couple of weeks, but what if she’s decided not to come back at all? I’m afraid I’ll see a mover’s truck pull in instead of her car.
The discussion over whether to install cameras at her cabin became moot a few days ago with a notice from our internet provider. The good news is that we’ll be getting much better high-speed internet on our entire street. The bad news is it will be down for two weeks while they work on it and install new cables or some shit. The cameras won’t work. It also means I can’t livestream.
I posted an announcement that there would be no live videos for a while, then spent the last couple of days getting videos scheduled to post during the interim. I’ve spent my time watching Handleman’s house, helping Lee with a few repairs, stocking firewood at Calli’s place and mine, getting the hives ready for the cold months, and drawing all night—staying as busy as possible so I don’t think about her.
I haven’t had the heart to sit by the fire like I used to, but tonight I make my way through the graveyard and up the hill. We’re having a spurt of warm weather, the last gasp of fall before winter sets in. No reason to waste it.
The night is cloudy, and I’m almost glad for that. The stars aren’t the same without her. The name Calliope suits her, but Persephone would fit as well. When she leaves, she takes all the beauty of the world with her.
The air is still and so silent, filled only with the crackle of the fire and my heavy sigh. She may not come back, or she may only come back to get her stuff. How could anyone blame her? She came here for a peaceful getaway and instead got her car window smashed, ran into a thief in the woods, then found out I followed her.
After all this time, I thought I understood loneliness, the creeping hell of it, but that’s something I’d become accustomed to. Now, the thought that she may not want to see me again, that I’ll return to a solitary life is horrible.
All I want to do is go back to my porch. It’s a struggle not to spend every second there watching for her to pull into the driveway. That’s another reason I need to keep things platonic between us. Love and obsession walk a thin line inside me. When I love something, I’ll let it take over my life. I found that out when I picked up a pencil to sketch. This is just the first time that feeling has been directed toward a person.
I can’t let another minute go by without reaching out to her. Terrified she won’t reply, I send a text.
Me
I miss you. I hope you’re having a great time.
I can see that she reads it instantly, but no little dots appear to show she’s going to acknowledge it. Sitting back, I tilt my head to watch the stars appear a handful at a time from behind the moving clouds.
How can the night feel so empty and heavy at the same time?