Ryan
Augusta, Maine
Present Day
You know what you’re stepping into, Ryan. A fucking tiger’s cage. You’ve seen Faynette in the bedroom. You know what she’s capable of with her clothes off. You’d better be good and well prepared for what she’ll do if you bring Merit to her office.
But I can’t hide from Merit. She’s the one person I’ve never been able to hide anything from.
Except once.
“Warden Taylor? Can I have a word with you?” Faynette asks.
I look to Merit. I don’t want this to get uncomfortable, and I want to be completely honest with Merit.
“I’ll be out front with Linda,” she says and walks away.
“Is that your girlfriend?” Faynette rubs her forehead, staring at me.
“Was.” I look at Merit as she casually makes her way to the front, seemingly unbothered by Faynette.
“Does she know we’ve slept together? Had mind-altering sex?” Her voice changes. It’s lower. Slower.
She tries to move in for a hug, but I put my hands on her waist and keep her from moving any closer.
“That won’t be happening anymore.”
“Why not? You said yourself that she wasn’t your girlfriend. Besides, don’t you remember what you did to me in the shower? Three times.” Her laugh is sultry as she reflects on the memory. She steps back.
I don’t feed into it. “I want to be clear, Faynette. I don’t mean to hurt you, and I apologize for the way this will come out, as, most likely, these words will sting.” I pause. “The only mind-altering sex I’ve had is with that beautiful woman walking down the hallway right now. What I did to you wasn’t love. It was just sex. An act of two people feeding into their desires. That’s it. What I have with that woman you just met is so much more. And I can’t afford to lose it this time.” My eyes are clear. My head is right. “Now, if there isn’t anything work-related that I need to do, I’ll see you later.”
I turn and walk down the hallway.
“You ready?” I say from behind Merit, probably a little too close, wanting to smell her hair. Take in her scent.
“Yes.” Merit hugs Linda. “Good to see you.”
“You, too, sweetheart. You’re not a girl anymore. You’re a beautiful young woman. You should have seen the eyes in the department move when you walked in.”
Ice shoots through my veins as I eye every moving uniform in my line of sight. Every man. Every woman. Letting them know that Merit belongs to me.
We walk out the front doors of headquarters like we’ve done a million times as kids and teenagers and now adults. But this time is different. This time is so different. I feel the sun on my face. I see the vibrant shades of summer. I know what love feels like, but I’m older now, far more experienced, and tainted, too.
My heart throbs against my chest. When my eyes meet hers, I can’t control my words or what she does to my body.
“What?” she asks, putting the truck in reverse.
“You’re so goddamn beautiful.”
I don’t want her to answer. I want her to take my words and shove them in her pocket for the trying times that we’ll have in the future and pull them out when she needs them. She doesn’t answer, not that I expected her to.
I also feel the need to discuss Faynette. I want Merit to know all my secrets, so we can move forward. But I won’t if she’s not ready to hear them. I put myself in her shoes. I wouldn’t want to know about another man and Merit. The curiosity though would kill me, and I feel like Merit would want the opportunity to know, so she knows I’m not keeping anything from her.
“Do you want to know who Faynette is?”
Merit’s eyes are on the road. She swallows. “No. It’s not my business, Ryan. We aren’t a couple. You don’t belong to me.”
“But I want to.”
A small breath of air escapes Merit’s mouth, but I catch it. I see the air leave her lungs.
“Worst-case scenario,” I say. Then, I cough to give myself time, because I don’t want to know what she’ll say next, too afraid of how her words will feel.
You know this can’t work, Ryan.
We’ve been here before.
You don’t belong to me.
You and I are impossible.
So, I start instead, “You leave when I’m better and fly back to California. You marry Theo. Or Levi. Or Brad. Or whatever their names were. You have two children. A dog named Trigger. And a white picket fence that wraps around your house. And you have a smile that tells me it’s a genuine kind of love.” I know how selfish this sounds. I do. But I need to show her what and who I am, so she’ll start to fight for us.
Merit’s eyes are still on the road. The low hum of the tires against the pavement and the buzz of insects that summer brings breaks up the silence.
“Worst-case scenario,” she starts. “I stay. You break my heart. Again. I leave and spend the next twenty years picking up the pieces, unable to fall in love with Theo, Levi, or Brad, and I don’t have two children with a white picket fence because of the damage that I allowed to happen to my heart. Then, I become unlovable, so I foster cats in my retirement years. Cats because they’re easy. Low maintenance. Harder to get attached to. They have basic needs, and I’ll be able to provide that. But anything more, and they’ll have to find somewhere else to go.” She takes a left toward Granite Harbor. “We need to get stuff for supper.”
I don’t push her even though I have an itch that wants to force her to talk about it. I don’t. Even though she makes me want to take back what I said to her, what I did, all those years ago. Some things are unforgivable. This was one. But I can’t not fight for what I love, for what I know is right. I also understand where she’s coming from.
We park in Granite Harbor Grocery and keep a two-feet distance as we walk into the store, the black asphalt drawing in the summer heat.
“Shit. What time is it?” I glance at my watch. It’s eleven thirty a.m. “We’d better not drive through town on the way back to Hallowell. There’s a back road we can take.”
“Oh, God. You and Eli and the rest of the Maine Warden Service.” She shakes her head, smiling.
I can stare at her smile for the next thirty years and never get bored. I’ve missed it.
“What?” I stop walking.
“Oh, it’s a shortcut. Just a back road,” she starts in her best warden voice, which is strong, manly. Merit continues, “Then, you find a dead deer that was poached, and you decide to investigate it. And then you call the warden whose district it’s in. Then, you find casings. And it ends up taking twice as long to get home. But, by God, you’ll get another poacher off the road.”
“You don’t do a good warden voice, just so you know.” I smile as the air-conditioning greets the top of my clean-shaven head as we enter the store.
“And you know I’m right. I’ll find a quicker way home, Taylor. Thanks.” She gives me a wink. “Let’s see. We need bacon, canned potatoes, bell peppers, red onions, rice pilaf, and broccoli for dinner. But I added much more stuff to the list because you have zero in your house to eat.” She stops. “Wait, you still like broccoli, right?”
She remembers. It was the only vegetable I ate as a kid. With a shitload of mayonnaise. Though, as I’ve gotten older, the mayonnaise isn’t needed as much. But canned potatoes, not so much anymore. I won’t tell her that. I’ll choke them down.
We walk to the meat case in the back of the store for the bacon.
“Well, I’ll be. Is that Merit and Ryan?”
We turn to see Ruthie and Milton Murdock, who are in the butter section, and her mother, Ida, comes around the corner.
“Hot dog!” Ida slaps her hands together.
Ida is eighty-seven years young. She was my favorite librarian, growing up.
“Are you two making the whoopee now?”
“Mother!” Ruthie’s eyes roll. “Her filter done left when she turned another year older. I’m so sorry, you two.”
Ida walks to Merit and gives her a hug. “Such a beautiful girl.”
“Ms. Ida, I’ve missed you,” Merit says.
“Nothing stopping you from coming by Granite Harbor Springs Retirement Village for a visit. Unless, you know, Albert and I are having relations.” Ida shrugs.
“Dear God, Mother.” Ruthie shakes her head.
“And look at my sweet Ryan Taylor. You’re so handsome.” Ida takes my face in her hands. “When are you going to marry this girl? The whole town knows you’ve been sidestepping the issue for years.”
I laugh.
Merit turns to the bacon, red-faced.
“Don’t play it off like you two don’t look at each other with stars in your eyes. Don’t waste any more time. Get married. Have sex. And make babies. Okay?”
“Mom, let’s go.” Ruthie takes Ida by the arm. “You two have a nice day.” Ruthie and Ida make their way down toward the milk, Ruthie whispering in her mother’s ear.
Milton stands. Staring. There’s a long pause. “If Ida is any indication of what Ruthie will be like at her age, I hope I’m dead by then.” And he walks past. “Good to see you.” He waves.
Merit and I stand here, looking at the bacon and start to laugh hysterically.
Once we regain control, Merit says, “I don’t remember Ms. Ida having such a vulgar tongue.”
“Yeah, in the past year, she’s really opened up, I guess.”
Our eyes awkwardly search the bacon.
“This’ll do.” Merit grabs a package of bacon.
We walk to the canned potatoes like we’re a couple shopping for food. Like we do this every Sunday. Like we should be holding hands. I want to take her by the hand, but I follow behind, trying not to stare at her ass in the jeans that she’s wearing. The ass that every warden who had a dick stole a glance from as we made our way through headquarters. The ass I’ve taken in my hands and held against me.
She stops and turns to look at the wall of canned food. It makes me want to hurl, thinking of canned potatoes. Not that I didn’t like them before. It was a night tequila was involved.
Merit plucks two cans—not one, ugh—off the shelf. I swallow the tequila taste that has somehow made it to my throat.
We grab the rest of the items and check out but not before running into the Prescotts and the Bravermans.
“About time you got it right, Warden Taylor,” Bob, our elected sheriff, says. He looks at Merit. “How’s Brand, Merit? See he’s got a new lady friend.”
Merit nods. I can tell she’s unsure of how to answer the sheriff’s question about Brand, but nevertheless, she’s happy Pop isn’t alone anymore.
“See you guys,” I say, removing Merit from the situation.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her elbow in my hand.
I don’t let go until we’re outside and close to my truck. We load the groceries into the back of the truck. I know Merit isn’t a you’d-better-get-the-door-for-me woman. She never has been, so I don’t even try to open the door for her.
As we pull out of the parking lot of Granite Harbor Grocery, Merit bites her lip. “We’ll have to drive by Dubbs’s place to take the road I’m thinking of.”
I nod. “It’s just a house, Mer. That’s it. A house. The memories stay with the house.” Saying that took a few visits of mandatory therapy. But I’ll never admit to that.
“No, I’ll drive through town,” she says.
“No, Mer. It’s all right.”
Her eyes grow big as she turns on her blinker. On the corner sits the house I spent most of my adolescence in. A house that doesn’t mean shit to me. I won’t allow Dubbs to have that over me. The memories can stay, too.
You can keep them, Dubbs.
But on the porch of the house is a tall man, and his profile looks familiar. And the familiarity isn’t a good one.
Dubbs hands the man the bag of money that I’d given him.
Dubbs sees my truck that Merit is driving.
“Who’s he talking to?” Merit tries not to look obvious.
“I’m not sure.” As we drive past, I make sure the man on the porch sees me. Takes in my profile.
A protective side to me flares up for Dubbs, the father and son thing, I guess that side will never fade no matter what happens.