Eli
October 12, 2017
I see Alex’s Tahoe parked in front of the bakery. With our last encounter last night, she left me hanging.
Something inside me changes. Like I need to see her. After this morning, I need some good. I try not to smile, walking quicker than I usually do into Hello, Good-Pie.
Don’t look back at her. You saw her in the window. Don’t look too eager, asshat, I tell myself.
I look at her.
You fucking idiot.
“Warden Young, a minute of your time when you’re done?” she asks from her table.
This table has now become her table, and I will never look at this table the same.
Don’t forget about Grace. You’ll need to deal with her soon. My conscience breathes down my neck in my father’s voice.
My heart pounds as our eyes meet. Something about Alex I can’t shake. I take my coffee and carrot cake from Clay with a nod of thanks and sit down with Alex.
“Sorry about last night,” she says as I sit. “What I wanted to tell you last night is that I’m working on a project, and I need some on-the-job training with a Maine warden. I was wondering if I could job shadow you. Spend time with you.” She pauses. I know what she meant. “Spend time on the job. Working cases. Doing what game wardens do.”
I smile because, now, she’s nervous and try to loosen the tension between us. “How long do you have to spend with me?” Because I might want forever.
“As long as it takes. My return flight isn’t until November 7.” She’s still all business.
That’s not long enough.
But I ask her the question that’s been in the front of my mind since I first laid eyes on her. “Is your husband here or in California?”
A long fucking time passes. Too long.
She looks down at her wedding ring. “He died. Three years ago.” Her shoulders now seem heavier than they were ten seconds ago.
Asshole, I say to myself.
“I haven’t found a reason to take it off.”
This doesn’t make me feel relief; it’s quite the opposite. I tense up, thinking about what she had to endure. And the fact that she still wears the ring after three years tells me that her grief is residual. Her wedding ring is the only thing she can hang on to. Maybe it allows her memories to stay put, where she wants them, not slipping between the cracks of life and disappearing. It makes me want to protect her.
I want to say all this, but instead, I just say, “I’m sorry.” I want her to know I’m genuine about it.
The bell on the door rattles to let us know someone’s come into the bakery. I keep my eyes focused on her.
You’re not divorced yet.
I lean forward and place my elbows on the small table, clasping my hands together so that I don’t fidget. “I’ll agree to the ride-along for as long as you’re here—on two conditions.”
“What are those?” A piece of her hair falls to her face.
I whimper somewhere in the back of my throat, and I add hair-tie thingies to my mental grocery list. Especially if we’re going to be spending long days together, she’s got to keep her hair tied.
“One, the calls I deem you can’t go on, I’ll drop you home first.”
“What if—”
I shake my head. “If I think that your safety is in jeopardy, you will go home. That’s a deal-breaker if you can’t agree to that one.” I won’t compromise her safety.
“Agreed.”
“And two, if you are anything but a Boston Celtics fan, I’m afraid the deal is off.” The sleek blue and-gold sticker stuck to the back of her laptop gives it away.
I see a smile sitting just beyond her full lips that she tries to contain.
“Celtics? That’s your team? Eli, they haven’t won a national championship since they lost Paul Pierce in 2013.”
I pretend as if I’m going to stand, as if the deal is off. At this point, I’m not sure I can walk away.
“Wait. I can’t pretend to be something I’m not, but maybe I’ll open my eyes to the new prospects that the Boston Celtics have gained. I do enjoy watching Kyrie Irving.”
Fucking beautiful. Fucking unbelievably beautiful.
“Deal. Also, no snide comments about the lack of championships and the slump we’ve been in for the past nine years.”
I hold my hand out and wait for hers. I feel it in mine, the weight of it, her touch. I take the big, deep breath that’s been sitting in my lungs as I’ve waited for Alex to walk into my life.
“Agreed.”
“You start tomorrow morning. I will pick you up at seven a.m.”
“What should I wear?” she asks.
This conversation is not going to end well. What should she wear? Nothing. Lace? I keep my coffee at my lips because I’m not sure I can speak. You have to talk, Eli. Slowly, I swallow my coffee and cough once to buy myself a few more seconds of time.
“You-you can wear something comfortable.” I cough again. “Something you can get dirty.” I bite my bottom lip. “Running shoes probably. And socks.”
“Fantastic. Is there a place to get running shoes?”
“Annie’s Shoes. At the end of town. I should go.” I stand because, all of a sudden, the table is too small for both of us. “See you tomorrow morning.”
“Eli?” I hear her say.
“Yeah?”
“Can I get your phone number in case I need to reach you? In case I get sick or something?”
“Yeah.” I take out my phone and we exchange numbers.
I’m looking through the pictures of the raccoon massacre from this morning. Seven total dead, dissected raccoons, one pregnant.
Sick fuck.
I’m trying to distract myself from Alex, wanting to text her, knowing I shouldn’t. I should call Grace back. I don’t want to.
Rookie’s head perks up before I hear anything. He stands and goes to the front door.
“What is it, boy?”
I finally hear it—someone coming up the road. I walk to the window and see Ryan getting out of his truck. He makes his way toward the house.
“You get a new exhaust? Rookie could hear your truck when you were at the gate,” I ask.
Makes me think about the unlocked gate from earlier this morning, but I push it out of my mind. Ryan hops out of his Dodge, still in uniform, his bag over his shoulder. Rookie takes one look at Ryan and then looks at me, and I give him the okay to go. Rookie runs to Ryan.
“Beer?” I say, walking to the refrigerator.
“Yeah, after I change.” Ryan sets his stuff down and gives Rookie a good rub on his back. “Hi, boy. I know. I missed you, too.”
Once Rookie is satisfied, Ryan goes to change.
He comes back from the bathroom, the uniform on a hanger and his bulletproof vest and his duty belt in his hand, and he sets them down on the couch.
I hand him a beer, and we sit at the table in the kitchen. Rookie goes back to his spot by the fireplace.
Ryan’s got a grin on his face.
“What?”
“Dude”—he shakes his head—“Sadie was off the hook last night. Tight ass. Big tits in my face for, like, two hours. I’m sore as hell today.”
I laugh. “How do you do it, man?” Part of me is jealous, I guess, of the way Ryan can sleep around with anyone. I just wasn’t made that way.
Ryan takes a long swig of his beer. “Are you fucking kidding me, Eli? You have women falling all over you. You just don’t see it. Since you and Grace split, or whatever you are or aren’t, there’s been a shift in the women in Granite Harbor—hell, the great state of Maine. Increase of perfume wearing, lipstick wearing, lacy shit wearing, all for Eli Young.” He stops. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Fuck that. What? Dude, we’ve been friends for a long time. That’s your lying-sack-of-shit face. What’s up?”
Part of me doesn’t want to tell Ryan because I’m not sure what he’ll say. It’s always been Grace and me. But it’s been over for three years. Except for the sex when she comes to town. I need to put that to a stop. I don’t want to give her false hope, and that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.
I can’t help it, but I smile.
“Oh, fuck. It’s the new chick. What’s her name? Alex!” He takes another swig of beer. “She’s married, Eli.”
“No. He died three years ago. She still wears the ring.” I pause because I wonder how Alex would feel if she heard what I just said. It’s hard when people talk about your deceased loved ones like you’re asking them to pick up some milk on the way home from the store. I remember hearing the whispers in Granite Harbor after my mom passed. “She asked if she could job shadow me while she was here.”
He moves his bottle aside and places both hands in front of him, like some sort of therapist. “Let me get this straight. Her husband died. She still wears the ring, which is concerning, and she wants to job shadow you? What’s she working on?”
I shrug. I don’t know. “I didn’t ask.”
“So, you’ll be alone with her in your truck for God knows how many hours a day, so she can see what we do?”
I nod, peeling the label on my beer bottle.
“You’re screwed, man. You’ve got to end it with Grace.”
“Says the guy who can’t keep his pants on.”
Ryan shakes his head. “You’re not me, Eli. You’ve always been the hometown hero. I’ve always been the fucked up best friend of the hometown hero. We’ve all got to meet expectations.” He pauses. “Look, she’s totally fucking hot, and if she’s as smart as she is hot, you’re fucked.”
There’s a long silence.
“When do you pick her up?”
I stop peeling the label. “Tomorrow morning.”
Ryan reaches up behind him and hands me the cordless phone. “Call Grace. Tell her the divorce papers will be in the mail on Monday.”
I take the phone from his hand. I don’t know why I’ve been dragging my feet. It’s been three years. It’s over. It’s been over. Taking the phone, I dial her cell number.
“Eli, Eli, Eli,” Ryan chants in a quiet voice, his fists in the air.
I mime the words, Shut the fuck up.
Ring one.
Ring two.
Ring three.
Ring four.
Ring five.
“Hi, this is Grace. I’m not near my phone, but leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you.”
“Yeah, Grace, it’s Eli. We need to talk. Call me.” I hang up.
Ryan is looking through the pictures of the raccoon scene. “What a crazy fuck.” He sets a picture down and picks up another one. Ryan might be a womanizer, but he’s got a deep love for animals. “How’s your old man?”
I nod. “Good. Going up there on Sunday for supper. Needs some help with a bear. Told him I’d bring a trap out and relocate him. Want to go?”
“Yeah.” Ryan picks up another picture, looks, and sets it down. “You talk to Merit?”
“Uh, yeah. Last week. Why?”
“No reason.”
The end of senior year in high school, it was like Merit flipped a switch. Ryan became the enemy. Anytime he came over, she’d bail. Anytime they were within ten feet of each other, Merit would make some remark and leave.
The house phone starts to ring. Fuck. Please don’t let it be Grace. Not that I don’t want to have the conversation. I do. I’m just tired, and I don’t feel like dealing with her right now.
It’s Merit.
I show the phone to Ryan.
“Are you going to answer it?” he asks.
“Hey, Bug,” I answer, calling her by her pet name.
Since she could walk, she had an infatuation with bugs. Big, little—it didn’t matter.
“Little brother, how are you?” Merit asks.
“Sittin’ here with Ryan, contemplating our next beer.”
There’s a long silence at the other end. I shouldn’t have mentioned Ryan.
If it were just her and me and Ryan wasn’t here, I’d ask her why she got so quiet, so defensive when he was around, just like I have time after time after time.
Her answer always seems to be, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re not on call?” she asks.
“Nope. Off the clock for at least eight hours.”
“Anyway, I’ll be home for Thanksgiving, staying with Dad.”
“You can stay with me,” I offer, just like I always do.
“Linda at headquarters in Augusta said you might have a guest.”
“What?” I jerk. “Who?”
“Alexandra Fisher.”
“News travels fast. I just put in the paperwork today. Merit, she’s job shadowing me. That’s it.”
“Linda said she saw her in town and said she’s quite stunning. Said she saw you two together at Hello, Good-Pie. I think she thought I knew something more.” Merit laughs.
I roll my eyes. Sometimes, living in a small town can be a nuisance. I change the subject because, now, I’m irritated.
“Come on, Eli. Lighten up.”
I take another swig of my beer. I feel the beer slide down my throat and explode in my stomach. “It’ll be good to see you, Bug.”
Ryan is lying down on the floor in the living room with Rookie, petting his ears. Rookie lets out a groan and puts his paw in Ryan’s face.
“Seriously, bro?”
Rookie looks at Ryan and puts his other paw on Ryan’s face.
“How’s it going with the Grace thing?” Merit asks.
I sigh, walk to the refrigerator, and grab two more beers, giving one to Ryan. “Filing for divorce on Monday.”
“I think it’s the right decision, for what it’s worth.”
This doesn’t surprise me. Merit’s never been a big Grace fan. I think Merit’s been waiting for me to see the train wreck of Eli and Grace for a long time.
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“All right, little brother, I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Need someone to pick you up from the airport?”
“Yeah. I’ll send you my flight itinerary.”
We hang up.
“How is she?” Ryan asks before I hit End.
“Fine. Coming home for Thanksgiving.”
Ryan stops. “She is?”
I look around, searching for the reason I hear enjoyment in Ryan’s voice. “Um, yeah. What’s with the excitement?”
He brushes it off. “I’m not excited.”
I laugh. “Whatever, man. She hates you. You know that.”
Ryan looks at Rookie. “You love me, don’t you, Rookie?”
Rookie groans again and lets out a sigh.
The phone rings again.
Fuck.
“Dude, bro, answer it.”
It’s Grace.
“Motherfucker,” I say before I answer. “Hey.” I don’t say her name because, the last time I said motherfucker and her name in close proximity, I think we were horizontal on our bed. The one we once shared.
“Hi.” Her voice is soft.
Don’t. Don’t do that, Grace.
“So, we need to get the paperwork filed for the divorce.” I’m to the point.
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. “Eli, can’t we talk about this in person?”
“No. It’s time, Grace. Come on. We’ve been playing this game for far too long.”
“So, after all this time together, you just want to call it quits?”
I groan, pulling the receiver up so that she can’t hear me cussing myself and then pulling it back down. “Grace, we’ve been separated for three years.”
“And we just had sex three months ago. You’re going to tell me that the sex wasn’t amazing?”
It was. But it’s not like I felt anything. I’ve lost that connection with Grace.
“It was.” I think about these words before I say them because I know they’ll hurt, but I have to rip off the bandage. It’s time. “I didn’t feel anything, Grace. Not like I used to. It’s time to throw in the towel.”
Dead silence on the other end. Then, click.
“How’d that go?” Ryan laughs. Rookie jumps. “Sorry, buddy.”
I sigh and quietly set the phone down.
But Rookie picks up his head, as if he hears a noise outside. I glance at the time. It’s just before eight. There’s something outside, and Rookie knows it. He jumps to his feet, walks to the door, and lets out a low growl.
Ryan and I look at each other.
“My gate was unlocked this morning when I went down to meet you guys on the scene. I know I’d locked it.”
We get to our feet and walk outside to the wraparound porch.
Ryan quietly walks to his truck, opens the driver’s side door, and reaches under his seat. “My pistol’s gone.”
“What?”
“My gun. It was under my seat. Now, it’s gone.”
“I’ll be right back.” I run upstairs to my bedroom and grab my handgun in my nightstand.
When I return, Rookie’s breathing fast. I can see it in the cold night air. He stays close. Not sure that I want Rookie wandering outside with a lunatic preying on innocent animals. I don’t give him the command to go search.
There’s a rustle in the bushes just off to the left of the house. Ryan shines his spotlight, and I aim my gun there. We move closer to the rustling bush, and Rookie is at my side.
“Show yourself,” Ryan says.