Chapter Ten
Allie
I pulled the car to a stop, trying not to think about how I was probably smiling weird and all the hundred things I was doing wrong. Curtis was wearing his cowboy hat, and his teeth glinted in the morning sunlight. As he came loping toward me, I could feel my knees buckling. I steadied myself by kneeling down and inviting the dog over.
“Hey, you,” I said as he nuzzled my hand. “How you doin’, boy? Are you bein’ a good boy?”
“He’s pretty much always a good boy unless he sees a squirrel or a cat,” said Curtis, his shadow falling over me. “Then he can’t help himself.”
“Well, dogs can’t help bein’ dogs,” I said, rising slowly. “Although the dog we had growing up, Portia, she was the sweetest little cocker spaniel. She and the cat used to sleep together in the same little bed every night. It was like they were best friends. One of them couldn’t get to sleep without the other.”
“Huh,” said Curtis. For a moment silence fell between us, and I felt like an idiot, blabbing about my childhood pets. But then he said, “How many animals you got now?”
“Just two, actually. Portia died a couple of years ago, and the other cat lives with my mom in Baltimore. All I’ve got now is River and Phoenix, and they’re both sweethearts. You’d love ‘em. If you like cats. I guess I shouldn’t be making assumptions.”
“I don’t mind ‘em,” said Curtis, smiling. He must have been amused at how much I was talking. “Mama’s got herself a cat, Smoky, but she’s skittish and don’t come around much. Every now and then you’ll see her run out from under a bed, but then she’s gone again before you can blink.”
He started walking in the direction of the rusted gate and I followed. “Would my pets be welcome here,” I asked, “if I ended up moving out here? Obviously, nothing’s official yet, but just in the event that I decided to live here—”
“Yeah, my mom would be fine with it,” said Curtis, once again terse where I was verbose. “I think if it had been anyone else, she might have some questions, but since you work at the animal clinic, I think we can trust you to take care of your animals, make sure they don’t have fleas and are up-to-date on their shots.”
“No, they’re good, clean animals,” I said, stepping over a hog that had planted herself in my way and refused to move. The hog squealed in irritation as I marched past her. “River loves to kill birds, and she’ll leave ‘em lying around for you to find, but that’s really her only vice.” In a quieter voice, I added, “I hope your mom isn’t a bird lover.”
Curtis shrugged. “She leaves water and grains in the bird-feeder for the cardinals that come flying out here and rest on the cedars. But I think she knows cats are gonna be cats. She grew up on a farm, and she’s lived here for most of her life, so she’s not ignorant of how the world works.”
“That’s a relief,” I said. My mouth was drying up rapidly, my tongue stuck to my throat. I should’ve brought a water bottle with me from the house. I cursed myself for not thinking of it sooner.
“You got anything to drink?” I asked him. “I’m really sorry, I’m just dying out here.”
“Shoot, I should’ve thought of that before you got here,” said Curtis, paling slightly. “I’ll be right back.” He darted off in the direction of the house while I stayed and ran my hands through the silk fur on the back of Jake’s neck.
Although it was much warmer than I was used to, I couldn’t say I hated the place. There was a quietness about it that I appreciated, not eerie but serene like honey being poured over pancakes. Looking out over the back fence onto the prairie, it felt like I could see all the way to the world’s end. Everyone said the skies were bigger in Texas, but I’d never really believed it until I’d seen it for myself.
I went over to examine the bird-feeder in the cedar and had just spotted a pale blue hummingbird when the back door came open and Curtis came running out carrying two plastic water bottles.
“Sorry it took so long,” he said, handing me one. “The waters were buried all the way back in the fridge behind the sodas.”
“It’s okay,” I said, holding the bottle up to my face. It was ice-cold, and I loved how it felt against my cheek. “Is that what you call ‘em here? Sodas?”
“Yeah, do you not call them that in Boston?”
“I always called ‘em ‘pop.’ And I never heard the word ‘fridge’ until I moved out here.”
“This must be so weird for you, then.”
“It’s like having to learn a whole ‘nother language,” I said. “I’ve been casually dropping the word ‘y’all’ into every conversation I have so no one suspects I’m not from here. I never heard so many ‘y’alls’ and ‘fixin tos.’”
“Well, that’s how we talk here in the country,” said Curtis proudly. “If you wanna fit in, you’ll have to learn the local customs: backyard barbecues, eating crawdads out of a cooler, blasting country music from the back of your pickup—”
“Okay, I don’t know what a crawdad is,” I said, laughing, “but I draw the line at blasting country music from the back of any vehicle. The only country music singer I ever cared for was Garth Brooks, and he only had that one song—”
“Naw, he had lots of hits,” said Curtis. “Did you know he’s sold more albums than any other American artist?”
I flinched, looking momentarily stunned. “That can’t possibly be true. But regardless, he only had one song that I cared for. ‘Friends in High Places’ or whatever.”
Curtis shook his head sadly, as if only now realizing the hopelessness of my situation. He led me into the tiny house, which somehow looked even cozier on the inside than it did on the outside and bore the lemon scent of a place that had just been cleaned. A leather armchair stood against the back wall alongside a narrow white bookshelf stocked with cheap paperbacks. I spotted a couple of Agatha Christies and a young adult novel James Patterson had co-written with another author.
“This is so precious,” I said, motioning to the framed Monets. “You really went out of your way to make this place seem welcoming.”
Curtis nodded and smiled. He seemed pleased with how pleased I was. “And if you ever need anything,” he said, “my parents are right across the yard, and my house is just down the street. Text me at any time of the day or night, and I’ll be right over.”
“It’s perfect,” I said, lightly fingering a tea cozy that was resting on the fold-out desk. “My lease isn’t up for another couple of weeks, so I won’t be able to move in until then. But I can go ahead and start packing up my things and getting them moved over. Will I need to sign anything? Is your mom going to draw up a lease agreement?”
“I doubt it,” said Curtis.
“Okay, that’s a relief.”
“I think she’s just excited you’re moving in. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like, and if you have to move out suddenly, like if a friend back home dies, and you need to move back to Baltimore in a hurry, she won’t mind. Mama’s really understanding that way. Wasn’t always like that, but she’s really mellowed in her old age.”
I stood in the doorway with my back to the pasture, nodding attentively. Now it was getting to the hard part, the part that was always awkward because I never knew how to say bye properly. “Listen, Curtis,” I said, and it was the first time I had used his name, “I can’t tell you how excited I am to be moving in here.”
I searched his face, hoping to see some sign of returned excitement, but Curtis just nodded in his usual taciturn way. “We’ll see how it goes,” he said. “I think Mama is really gonna like having you out here. Heck, I may not even mind it myself.”