Truth or Beard

I think I must’ve flinched or winced, because Duane straightened, and even though he didn’t move, I felt him draw away. I knew at once he was misinterpreting my reaction, so I unthinkingly reached for his arm and stepped into his personal space, beseeching him with my gaze.

“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head at my blind selfishness, realizing I should have been upfront on Wednesday, when he’d asked me out originally. “I’m sorry. You’re right. You’re so right, and I’m…I don’t know how to say this without being completely honest so, here goes: I moved home with a plan. I’m back with my parents and teaching at the school, but that’s all temporary. I’m here, in Green Valley, for less than two years, tops. Just long enough to pay off my loans and save enough money to move on. I’m not ready to settle down, I don’t think I ever will be. I want to see and experience things. I have wanderlust and it consumes me. If I had the money, I’d leave tomorrow. I thought…I guess I didn’t really think. I just like you so much and I…” I couldn’t finish my thought because my voice caught.

As I spoke Duane’s eyes widened, then narrowed; their usual internal brilliance seemed to dim, fade, as it was replaced with a severe disappointment that completely pierced my heart. Then his expression hardened into understanding; and finally bitter, guarded withdrawal.

For the first time ever I wished I wasn’t this girl. I wished I wanted to live in Green Valley and be content as a small-town teacher, a wife, a mother, a member of the community. But that wasn’t what I wanted, that wasn’t who I was.

I had no illusions my dreams were bigger. My dreams weren’t bigger, they were just different. I’d chosen my profession because it meant I could move anywhere; no matter the city, science and math teachers were needed. And I wanted freedom from possessions—owning them and being owned by them—I wanted to experience the world, not just one tiny corner of it.

Duane nodded, slowly at first. His eyes fell away before he turned and sauntered back to the blanket to retrieve his shirts. He pulled on the white undershirt, but didn’t bother with the button-down; instead he stuffed it into the backpack. I didn’t know what to do, couldn’t read what he was thinking, so I stood by the log and waited for some sign.

Some selfish part of me wished I hadn’t told him the truth. After all, I had two or three years left in the Valley. No one understood my desire to travel the world, why would I expect him to be any different? I’d always been the odd one in my family, feeling like I didn’t quite belong. I’d learned to hide this side of myself, and almost all of my other crazy instincts, from my parents years ago.

Duane and I could have dated, had fun together—me knowing it was temporary, him thinking it was leading to something permanent. I could have kept my dreams to myself, planned my trips in secret.

Then, when the money was saved and the time came, I could’ve just broken things off. Hell, we might not have even lasted that long. Maybe we weren’t suited. Maybe it would have only been a few weeks or months.

… No.

I heard the word in my head as though it had been spoken out loud. I knew with a rare certainty that Duane was right. We were suited. Withholding the truth of my dreams would be withholding myself, and that was exceedingly unfair to him. It was one thing to pretend with my folks, because they could handle me being zany from time to time, and assume my wanderlust was a phase.

It was quite another matter to keep my true self from Duane. He didn’t deserve that.

At length, he lifted his gaze to mine and I was saddened—but not surprised—to see it was completely shuttered.

“Are you hungry?” His tone was flat as he indicated to the cups and covered bowls with a tilt of his chin. “Because I’m hungry.”

I tried to apologize with just my eyes and my chin wobbled; I managed to answer, “Yeah, I’m hungry.”

He nodded again then turned, dropped to his knees, and gestured me over with a wave of his hand. “Then let’s eat.”

CHAPTER 10

“One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.”

? Henry Miller

~Duane~

“So, how was your date with Catastrophic Engine Failure?”

I wasn’t expecting the question because I wasn’t expecting my brothers’ return until later in the afternoon, so I couldn’t hide my automatic grimace.

I lifted just my eyes from the wood pile, found my brothers nearing the chopping block and watching me expectantly. Then, to my chagrin, Beau and Cletus shared a concerned glance when I remained silent.

“That bad, huh?” Beau scratched his beard.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I picked up a new log, set it in place, and brought the axe down, splitting it with one stroke.

“Okay.” Beau nodded, letting the matter drop.

“What happened?” Cletus asked, stepping forward and not letting the matter drop.

What happened… That was the question I didn’t much want to think about. That question drove me out here to the woodshed, splitting logs we didn’t need, biding my time until I could race at The Canyon this evening and burn off my aggression.

Last night after Jessica’s clarification of the situation, what it was she wanted, we’d eaten in silence, walked back to the car in silence, driven home in silence, and I’d dropped her off. And that was that. Things were over before they’d begun, because I wasn’t going to fuck around with Jessica James.

There are just some girls you can’t fuck around with, because doing so would be handing over your man card. She’d own my pride first, then my heart, then my spirit. Then she’d leave, taking all three with her.

On my drive home I’d briefly considered calling Tina. I could fuck around with her, no problem. But I didn’t. Nothing had changed, not really. I was tired of fucking around. And the thought of touching Tina when I craved Jess… No. There was no adequate substitution.

I frowned at my older brother. “Nothing. Nothing happened.”

Cletus returned my frown and paused, as though mulling the issue over, before he asked, “Will there be a second date?”

“Cletus.”

“Duane.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Can I ask her out?”

I reckon something in my glare must’ve communicated the intensity of my sudden, irrational, and visceral response to his question, because Cletus lifted his hands between us as though he surrendered, and took a step back.

“Hold your claws, Wolverine. I’m not going to ask Miss James to step out. I was merely gathering data. I see your feelings for her haven’t changed.”

“No. They haven’t.”

“Then I guess I just don’t understand why things aren’t progressing in a satisfactory manner. Did Jackson James do something to interfere?”

“Nothing of note.”

“Did her parents object?”

“No,” I said through gritted teeth.

Cletus pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowing on me like I was under suspicion of criminal consorting. “Did you do something untoward?”

“No. Damn it, Cletus! Can’t you just let this go?”

“No, sir. I cannot. I like things to be fixed, situated, orderly, where they belong. You and Miss James aren’t situated, where you belong. As such, I feel compelled to fix the situation.”

I threw the axe down so the blade cut through the earth. “Fine. You want to know what happened? She told me she’s only interested in a temporary thing. She’s not planning on staying in Green Valley. She wants to leave as soon as possible and isn’t looking for permanent. She’s got…” I paused, glaring unseeingly around the yard as I searched for the word she used; finding it, I threw my hands in the air and kicked the pile of split wood as I finished, “She’s got fucking wanderlust bullshit issues.”

Beau’s eyebrows arched high on his forehead. “Fucking wanderlust bullshit issues? You mean, she likes to go hiking?”

“No,” Cletus answered for me, his expression grave and thoughtful. “I believe our dear brother Duane means she’s wanting to travel the world, and doesn’t want any strings holding her to one place.”

“Yes, that. What he said.” I lifted my chin and scanned the contents of the shed behind them for no reason. The sooner this conversation ended, the better.

Beau glanced between Cletus and me, he appeared to be confused and confirmed my suspicion when he said, “So?”

“So…” I shrugged. “So there’s not going to be a second date.”

Again, Beau glanced between Cletus and me like he was missing something. “Why not?”

This time Cletus and I shared a look of commiseration.

Cletus huffed his impatience, then turned to Beau like he was going to set matters straight on my behalf.

“Because…” Cletus started, but then stopped. He blinked at Beau. Then his eyes narrowed like he was thinking the matter over and reconsidering his earlier assumptions.

I frowned at them both.

“Now wait a minute.” Cletus held his index finger up and pointed at Beau, then he pointed at me. “No, wait just a minute. Beau has a point.”