Taut: The Ford Book

I feel a little bad for her as I fool with my phone web browser. She’s genuinely distraught at having all her things locked away inside Jason’s garage. “He won’t come open it so you can get your stuff, so we’ll just get what you need at the store.”

She turns away from the window she’s fogging up with her breath and stares at me. Silent.

“What?” I ask absently, still paying attention to the search results on my phone.

“Nothing,” she sighs. “If you say so.” She turns back to the window and I put my phone away. I pull out of Jason’s and make our way back onto I-70 to get to the west side of the village, and then she turns back to me. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m not more appreciative. I’m just…”

I wait. The car is silent except for the blast of hot air coming from the heater vents. But she’s dropped it and I hate that. “You’re just what?” I prod.

She waits again. And then, just when I think she’s ignoring me, she says very softly, “I’m just not sure what’s happening.”

I slow the van down so we don’t slide into the car in front of us when we get off the freeway, but as soon as I turn right to go to Safeway, I can’t wait anymore, so I ask. “You’re not sure about what? I don’t understand your confusion.” I figure she’s gonna ask me what my intentions are. Hell, if I was a girl with a new baby traveling alone, and some guy picked me up and wanted to pay for everything, that’s the first f**king thing I would’ve asked.

But she’s done talking about it because she changes the subject. “Do they have a Wal-Mart here?”

I laugh.

“What?”

I laugh again. “This is Vail. We have a Patagonia, a Sports Authority, a million ski and board shops, several survival gear stores, one 7-11, and a Safeway. Unless you count the boutiques in Vail Village, but I do not. We can go there tomorrow and get you more clothes if you need it, but not today. You have to walk in from the parking garage, and even though the sidewalks are heated so snow is not a problem, I’m not in the mood to boutique shop in Vail Village during a blizzard. So I’ll hit the Safeway for groceries and you can shop for clothes in the consignment store next door.”

“What if it’s not open?”

“I already checked, they’re open until four.”

“Well,” she says with a little sigh that might be relief. “I guess you’ve got it all figured out, then.”

“I do,” I say as I pull up in front of the consignment shop. She gets out and opens the back door and the wind whips snow inside. She grabs that pain-in-the-ass baby carrier and I get out some cash from my wallet and thrust it at her. “Here, get whatever you need.”

She stares at the bills in my outstretched hand for a moment, then looks up to my eyes. “Did he send you?”

“What? Who?”

She shakes her head and mutters, “Nothing.” And then she grabs the cash and the baby carrier and whooshes the door closed.

“Did who send me?” I have a paranoid vision of her being some mob boss’ daughter on the run after witnessing a triple murder of some important politician’s family… and then I laugh myself out of it. Fuck, Ford. You have some imagination. Not everyone is a criminal. I’m not sure who this girl is or what that remark just meant, but right now I do not care. The snow is getting worse and I just want to get this shopping crap over with and go home.

Home.

That word in association with Vail evokes feelings in me that I’m not sure how to identify. I’ve lived here on and off my entire life. In that house. In that bedroom. But now this place feels… empty for me. It’s missing something.

No, that’s not right. It’s missing everything.

I park the van and jog towards the entrance before the snow drenches me.

The Safeway doors slide open when I approach and I’m bombarded with leftover Christmas shit. I skirt around an employee trying to hand me samples of corned beef, and then grab a cart. I hit the alcohol first. I grab a few local brew six-packs and then head to the meat department.

I can cook. Regardless of what Spencer thinks, I have no problem cooking. I might not push a vacuum around, but that’s only because I have maids who do that for me. But eating is something I have to do a few times a day so cooking is a survival skill.

I grab a few pounds of boneless chicken, some rice, and other small things to make it taste a little better. I wander around the produce department and pick up some vegetables for a salad. I’m perusing the drinks aisle when I hear the baby behind me.

“Hey,” the girl says as she comes up laden with bags and the carrier.

“That was fast.”

“Yeah, the shop girl practically kicked me out. I was her only customer all day and she was just thinking she could close early when I walked in. I got a few things real fast. I didn’t spend much.”

I take the bags and put them in the grocery cart and she balances the baby carrier on the front seat and takes over the driving.

I shake my head at that. Fucking girls. “I got a few things, but you can get whatever you want.”

“I have to get diapers.” She looks back at me. “If that’s OK?”

I wave her on. “Whatever you need.”

She leads the way after that and I follow, feeling a bit uncomfortable to be doing something so personal as grocery shopping with a total stranger and her child. But then, I spent last night with her, she’s staying with me this weekend, and I paid for her car to get a new engine. So I guess grocery shopping is not so strange after all.