Thirty

“Parole is denied until your sentence expiration date.” The words rang loud in the big room. I let out an involuntary noise of joy, and I wasn’t the only one. I heard noises of despair from his family, and a wail from the girlfriend. I watched his shoulders slump just a little as his lawyer whispered in his ear. He nodded.

The board member handed a piece of paper to the warden and he passed it to his lawyer. There was more talk about appeals and so forth, but I didn’t care. He was going to be in jail for two more years. I took one last look at Travis as we filed out of the courtroom. He didn’t turn, and I knew that would be the last time I ever saw him.

My family cleared out as quickly as we could, thanking Mr. Woodward. He said he’d be in touch if there were any changes.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Mr. Woodward said as we walked back to the waiting room. “Both of you were the difference. He could say he’d found Jesus all he wanted, but it was you who showed who he really was.”

“What?” I didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Oh, did you tune out for that part?” Tawny said. “He said he’d found the Lord and become a Christian. Sick bastard.”

“I don’t think God can help him,” Mr. Woodward said.

“I should hope not,” she said.

We shook Mr. Woodward’s hand and went to give the crew the good news.

“Parole denied,” Tawny and I said at the same time to a round of cheers. Hunter swept me up in his arms and spun me around. It seemed like a strange thing to cheer, but we didn’t care. It was like UMaine had won a hockey game against the University of New Hampshire.

“I’m so glad that’s over,” I said to Hunter.

“Me too. Now we can start our life.”

“We haven’t started yet? What have we been doing all this time?”

“Just rolling in the hay.”

“Bales and bales of it.” 

*****

Life was both the same and different after the hearing. It was the same because I spent every night with Hunter, and I went to class and hung out with the girls and did more blow paintings and read more vampire smut. 

It was different because it was easier to laugh. Easier to smile. Easier to sleep. 

Everything was easier. 

I didn’t have to try to get into that safe bubble anymore. I was there all the time.

“Hey, you want to go somewhere with me?” Hunter said on the Saturday morning after the hearing.

“Why not? As long as you’re not taking me to a place to hook up, I’m in.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“Takes one to know one, Mr. Secret. I know you’ve been up to something.”

“I know you know. Come on.”

 He pulled me to my feet. We’d been cuddling on the couch and watching mindless reality TV. Everyone else was MIA, which was unusual for a Saturday morning.

I didn’t bother asking where we were going. I was getting used to surprises, or I was getting less curious about them. 

Hunter drove away from campus and headed toward Bangor, toward downtown. 

He turned onto a side street full of beautiful houses and pulled up in front of one that wasn’t as impressive as the others, but was cute. Yellow, with white trim and a little porch. It was adorable. There was another car in the driveway, a BMW that I recognized.

“Is that Joe’s car?”

“I thought you should meet him.”

“Why are we meeting him here?”

“You’ll see.” We got out of the car and walked up to the house. “We can go in. We’re expected.” He pushed the front door open, and I was bombarded with, “Surprise!”

“What the hell?” They were all here: Darah, Mase, Renee, Paul, Dev, Sean, Megan, and Jake. And someone else I didn’t recognize, but who had to be Joe.

“It’s not my birthday,” I said. It wasn’t for another few weeks.

“Not yet,” Hunter said. “Taylor, this is Joe. Joe, this is Taylor.”

 Joe was a towering presence, with dark chocolate skin and a suit that was probably made by an Italian designer, and a stern face to match. He looked every bit a lawyer.

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Caldwell.”

“He’s going to call you that, just so you know. Joe’s very formal that way, which is ironic considering he forces me to call him Joe,” Hunter said. Joe cleared his throat as a response.

“Okay, so someone’s got to tell me what we’re doing here,” I said.

Everyone looked at each other, and it hit me like three million lightbulbs all going on at once.

“I swear to God, Hunter if you bought me a house, I am going to kill you. Slowly and unpleasantly. We’re doing a torture segment in history 226, and I know several ways this can happen.”

“Missy, I didn’t buy you a house for that exact reason.”

Joe cleared his throat again.

“It’s a rent to own. Hunter made a down payment and the first month’s rent. I have the lease papers here for you to sign, as well as signature cards for a new joint checking account,” Joe said, whipping out a stack of papers that he shoved in my face.

“Wait, what?”

“We’re renting it. To own. Also, guess who else is renting it with us?” Hunter said.

“I give up,” I said, on the verge of freaking out.

“We are!” Renee said, throwing some confetti on me. “All of us are moving in together!”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said, looking around and waiting for someone to tell me they were just screwing with me.

“Nope. We worked it all out this week,” Hunter said.

I opened my mouth to yell at him. To tell him that it was crazy. It would never work. Who did stuff like that? A mother. Fucking. House.

“I’ll let you pay every other month’s rent,” Hunter said, as I tried to assemble my thoughts into coherent words. “All you have to do is sign.”

“How much money is in that joint account?”

“Only two hundred dollars. So far. I’d put it all in there, but I knew you wouldn’t let me.”

“Hunter…”

“It’s not a handout. It’s building our foundation.”

I looked around at all the faces. God, I loved them. So much it hurt to think about.

“Can I at least see it before I sign?”

 Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Hunter took us on a tour, with Joe pointing out the best features like a real estate agent. Joe was exactly how I’d pictured. Calm, cool, all business. I made it my goal to get him to smile.

I fell in love with the house as soon as I saw the adorable kitchen, with a little breakfast nook. There was a big living room where we could fit a gigantic couch and which already had the infamous recliner in it.

“We thought about moving all your stuff without telling you, but we figured you’d get pissed. Getting the recliner here was bad enough,” Mase said. Oh, they knew me so well.

On the second floor there were two large bedrooms, each with their own small bathroom, and then on the third floor there was a master room with bath attached. 

“This is ours,” Hunter said, waving his arm around. The room was big and open and filled with light. There was only one thing in the room. It was a picture of Hunter and I that Mom had snapped the previous weekend, in a peacock-painted frame. It was in black and white. His head was bent over my shoulder, and he was placing my fingers on the guitar strings and I was laughing at something he’d said.

I picked it up and looked at our happy faces.

“So what do you think?” Hunter said, standing in the bathroom doorway and watching me, his hand tapping a steady rhythm on his leg. One, two, three, four, five. “By the way, Stephen King lives down the street. If that helps my cause any.”

My mouth dropped. “You’re shitting me.”

“Did you see the house with the cool iron fence? The huge reddish one?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s his.”

I could live down the street from Stephen King. Holy crappity fuck.

“I also changed my major.”

“You did?”

“Yep. We’re now liberal arts students together. I’m now a proud member of the College of Education. Music, to be exact.”

“You changed your major?”

“I decided that it was finally time to do what I wanted to do. Not what I thought I should do.” My mind was already overflowing with everything that was happening all at once. I couldn’t comprehend it all.

 “I thought we could frame our blow paintings and put them here,” he said, gesturing to one of the walls. “And a big bed, right here.” He went around the rest of the room, and I imagined it. I imagined saying yes and moving in with Hunter next semester. I imagined it and I decided that I wanted it to be real.

“Okay.”

Hunter stopped talking about potential paint colors and stared at me.

“Okay?”

“Okay. But whatever money you put in that joint account, I’m putting in as much. Fifty-fifty. You’re not going to be making much as a music teacher.”

“You’re right. Fifty-fifty,” he agreed, coming and putting his arms around me.

“So, Mr. Zaccadelli.”

“Yes, Miss Caldwell?”

“I guess I win the bet.”

“I guess you do, Missy. I said I would leave the dorm. I never said anything about you coming with me. So, the way I see it. I won.”

“Loving you was the best mistake I ever made,” I said.

He shook his head.

“Getting assigned to be your roommate was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me. I don’t think I’ll ever get so lucky again.”

“Wanna bet?”

“No way.”