Crave (5 page)

CHAPTER 8

As I come to, I hear the sputtering sound of the wave runner next to me and feel the bump as it hits me softly.  Suddenly, and with great force, I am pulled from the water. I can barely lift my arm onto the craft when I hear a powerful voice yell, “You’re almost up”.

I can see all of his muscles flexed in his forearm and his biceps are bulging out of the body suit.  I can barely see his face- my vision is fuzzy and he is covered with goggles and the top of his body suit to the top of his neck.

I don’t think I can get onto the seat behind him, or sit there if I could.  But, that isn’t an option.

He’s pulled me over in front of him, lying across his lap.

I wake up and the sun is burning my eyes.  I see someone over me, close.

I am coughing and water is coming up.

I want to roll over, but can’t.

“She’s breathing,” I hear someone call.

My vision slowly comes back and I turn my head to avoid looking into the bright sun.  My hand comes up to cover my eyes and I feel sand all over my face as it brushes over my cheek.  There is a small crowd of people about me.

I look up to see who is above me.  Shockingly, it is
him
. 

His eyes are dark and his look is serious.

His hand comes down now, across my cheek and he comes closer to my face.

“You’re going to be okay, Cora.  Just relax and take a few breaths.”

Others are gathering around and I feel Everett lifting me again.  Fully this time, off the ground and into his arms.  I have no strength to resist.

His head is up and he walks with a steady determination across the beach.  It’s as if he is walking on a Tempur-Pedic mattress.  Each step is absorbed by the beach, everything around undisturbed.  I feel like I am floating across a plane.

“Where is Josie?” I suddenly remember, looking back to the water.

“Josie and her family are on the boat.  They know you are okay,” he says, still walking away from the water. And the beach.

“Where are we going?” I ask, beginning to wonder.

My vision has returned, but my body aches.  I want to just lie down.

“Take me home,” I tell him.

“I will,” he says assuredly.

Images of the after-party start coming back to me and confusion takes over about that and what just happened.  Even now, I look up at him and I see hope.  I see dreams in him.  My dreams.  He is everything, but I can’t get over the fact that he used drugs.  And he offered them to me.

My emotions move fast and tears begin to form.  I see one drop down to his chest.  It glitters in the sunlight.  Then it trickles.  And then it just disappears.
              More go that way too.

“Trying to wash the sand off my chest, Cora?” he asks.  “Hoses work better than tears for that,” he follows. 

I see that grin flash across his face.  And his eyes light up as his gaze focuses in on me now.

He gently seats me in a chair, under an umbrella, and sits next to me.  I am too weak to sit up.  He pulls his chair in close.

“What the heck were you doing out there?” he asks now.  “There are better ways to try to kill yourself you know.  Less painful ones at least.”

“Wasn’t exactly my objective out there,” I return. “Just out for a nice day of snorkeling.”

“A nice day of snorkeling.  Oh, that’s what you call
that,”
he laughs, and for the first time since being out of the water, I feel a little bit of that humor too. 

But, I don’t laugh.  I have too much to talk to him about before I can start laughing with him again. 

Before I can begin that interrogation, however, the paramedics arrive.  They have what seems like dozens of questions for me and check the various pulses and temperatures and all that.  They conclude I’m okay and I just need to get some rest. 

“Don’t go back in the water for a few days,” they say as they walk away.

“Check,” I say back.  “No plans for that, anytime soon.”

“So, what the heck were you doing back there,” I say to Everett.

“Just out enjoying the water, the sun, you know, riding the waves for a while.”

“Do you normally about go crashing into unsuspecting swimmers?”

“Hell, I had no idea you were there until I was practically on top of you.”

The thought of those last four words sends shivers up and down my body.  I feel the heat coming into my face again.  I try to contain it, but it comes fast.

I see for the first time the ridiculous definition in his abs.  He could possibly have just stepped off of the cover of Muscle & Fitness for all I know. 

But, I try to focus on what I need to do.

“So, let’s get down to brass tacks here, Everett.  What exactly was it you were doing back there at the after-party the other night?”

“Yeah, the after-party.  I’ve been completely miserable about it ever since, Cora.  I really want to apologize to you.  That was totally out of character for me.  I’ve never…  I won’t do that… you know, that’s just not me.  I wasn’t being myself there.”

His confidence sways with those words.  And I have the feeling that I’ve got him where I want him.  But, I’m too torn up to do anything with it and I reply with a way too simple, “Really?”

“Yeah, listen,” he says, “I really want to make that up to you.”

“Oh yeah,” I reply, “How do you think you are going to go about doing that?”

“Well, the only way I know how.  I am going to sing for you.”

“Sing for me.  What do you mean?” I say, shocked.  He hadn’t sung anything on stage with the Greenhorns, just played his harmonica from time to time and on Country Roads, nearly the whole song.

“Yep, I wrote a song for you and I want to give you the honor of singing it for you.  Just the two of us.  Dinner and drinks, and our own little after-party.  Nothing else.”

“Well what if I don’t like how you sing?” I say. “Won’t that hurt your feelings?”

“You’ll like it, and besides, that’s worth the risk- if I can get you back on my side.”  His confidence is back. His grin has widened.  He looks off to the ocean.  As if to give me a minute.

I see the clean lines of his jaw and his cheeks raise up as he lifts his head toward the sea.  He’s well-tanned and his skin is clean.  Somehow, he isn’t covered in sand the way I am.  It’s like he stepped aside and took a shower before sitting me down in this chair.  I might see him riding a horse on an Old Spice commercial, I think.

After contemplating his offer, I sit up in my chair and lean toward him.  “Listen,” I say, poking him at the shoulder, “You’re on.” And after pausing for another second, “But, if you stink- that’s it.  We’re through.”

His eyes light up and his smile gets bigger than I’ve ever seen it.  The whiteness of his teeth shine through and I see top to bottom the most perfect set of teeth I’ve ever seen.

Miraculously, he lifts up his white cowboy hat and sets it over my head.  It comes down slowly and the brim out in front of my eyes partially blocks my view of him.  I raise a finger to the tip and push it up.  “I’m keeping this hat until you earn it back,” I say.

“Ha!” he says.  “Ordinarily, nothing gets between a cowboy and his hat.  But, this time… this one time… I guess I could make just one exception.”

“You got that right.  You owe me, Cowboy.  And I’m owning this hat now.”

“Well, if that ain’t the dandiest,” he says, shaking his head, perplexed.  “You’re starting to act like a real cowgirl now, Cora.  I’ll be damned.”

CHAPTER 9

I love steak.  And he nailed it.

Good red wine and steak.  That’s enough to bring me to my knees.  It is so delicious.  He might not have to sing now…

“So, about this so-called ‘cattle throne’?” I inquire.  “What’s the deal on that?”

“Well, uh, yeah, what?  Did Crash tell you that?”

“He might have mentioned it.  It sure sounds like a big deal.”

“Yeah, it’s really not.  It’s nothing really,” he says, looking off, avoiding eye contact.

I hit a nerve.  “So really, what’s going on back home?  Why’d you come out here if you have all the cattle, and these fantastic steaks I presume, back in Wyoming?  Not trying to raise cattle here on the coast, are you?”

“Nah, I don’t know.  It’s just the family business.  I don’t think I want to be a part of it anymore.  It’s been good to me.  Very good to me.  But, you know, sometimes working with your family really isn’t the best thing you can be doing.”

“I can’t even imagine working with my family.  Jeez, that would be a total train wreck.”

“Yeah, it’s not as easy as it sounds.  It just sucks because I was doing really well.  Had lots of good ideas about the business and all, but… well anyway.  Maybe someday, but not now.”

But what? What was that ‘but’ about?  I get the feeling that there is something more going on here.  And I want to know.  He stills owes me because I don’t know if I am going to even like his singing or not.  If I don’t then at least I’ll know something about him.  Something that is real.

“So… then what about the ‘but’?” I ask.

He looks at me kind of funny and says, “Well, we don’t have them here, on our plates, but you have the Rump and the Topside Silver Side.  Those are the two cuts of beef, as they’re more officially called.”

“No, you said you had good ideas about the business and all, ‘but’.”

“Oh, that but,” he smiles.  “Yeah, I don’t know.  Sometimes it’s best to just take good ideas somewhere else, you know.”

“Well not really.  Educate me on this one, please,” I say playfully.
              “I don’t know, Cora.  It’s not something you… it’s not something we really ought to talk about over dinner.”

“Well, I’m done with mine, and it looks like you’ve finished yours up too,” I say reaching for the bottle of wine and grabbing my glass.

I stand up and move towards the couch in the other room.  “Come on over, Cowboy,” I say putting the hat back on as I walk by the counter.

He pauses for a second, and then follows.  He sighs as he sits down next to me.

“So, I guess the tough part about it… it’s really… you know, it’s just hard working with my dad.”

“Your dad?” I ask.  “I can’t imagine your dad being… I mean… if he’s anything like you, he’d be a treat to work with, wouldn’t he?  With all the bets and jokes, you guys ought to be having a real hoot.”

“That’s the thing, right there,” he says.  “I am not really like him.  And he’s definitely not like me.  He’s a different sort of bird.  Very driven.  Everything is in a straight line for him.  And I guess I just don’t travel in straight lines.”

“Yeah, I see what you mean about that.  You haven’t gone in a straight line since the moment I first met you.” I joke.

“Settle down.  You ought to like the line I’ve been traveling- as many times as I’ve saved your butt!”

“Yeah, you’re doing okay.  So, go on… your dad?”

“He’s just got a very narrow idea in his head about what should be happening and when things don’t go according to his grand plans, things get a little crazy for him… he gets a little crazy.”

“Seriously? Like violent crazy?” I ask.

“No, not really that.  Just more like it’s kind of like his way or the highway.  Know what I mean?”

“Tell me about it.  Maybe your dad ought to be hanging out with my dad.  They’d probably get along real well.”

“So anyway, now you know.  I don’t travel in straight lines.  He does.  It’s a pretty straightforward equation,” he says, again looking off.

I know there is more to this, but I don’t press now.  That’s enough for one night.  And I’d rather get away from the weight of serious family conversation.  I really don’t want to get going about my family again.  That’s a quick way to ruin everyone’s night.

He reaches into his shirt pocket and brings out a small object.  I can’t really see it as it’s covered by his hands, but when he brings it to his lips, I know it’s the harmonica he played with the Greenhorns.

He blows a few notes and then gently, quietly starts playing a song I don’t know.  The first notes of the song capture me.  So smooth, so melodic.  It’s as if each note has its own hand and it comes out of the harmonica and grabs me.  Right at my heart- clutching it tight.

I feel my heart race.  And the notes, though maybe not directed at me, make me blush.  There is something about what he is doing with this song.  I can feel the emotion he is putting into it.

When he is finished, he pours more wine for me and fills his glass as well.  He takes a drink- a long drink, and walks towards the kitchen.  I hear strings as he picks up the guitar and butterflies fill my stomach.

He sits opposite me and pulls a pick from his shirt pocket.  He strums quietly.

Suddenly, and to my surprise, we hear knocking at the front door.

Everett looks up and asks, “Josie and her family?”

“Nah,” I say, “They were going to Monterey for the weekend.

“Did you not like my steak and order a pizza?” he quips.

“Very funny.  You saw my empty plate, didn’t you?”

I walk to the kitchen, put the wine down and walk down the hall to the front door.  I look out the side window to see who is there and it is black.  Too dark to see anything outside.

I flip the switch to turn the porch light on and nothing happens.  The light is out.

I think quickly about the neighborhood and it is top notch, so I unlock and open the door. 

At first, I don’t see anyone, but then, as I open the storm door and stick my head around it to see…  I almost pass out.  All of the blood goes from my head and I feel light.  OH MY GOD.

He is standing there with that shit-eating grin on his face.  I am so shocked that I can’t find any words.  I start to pull the storm door shut, but he grabs it.

“Not so fast,” he says, “Aren’t you even going to invite me in?”

It looks like he hasn’t shaved in a year and his eyes are red.  The one vein is bulging.  The one that always bulged on his forehead.  He looks like a nightmare.  My nightmare.

“Who’s you’re friend,” Everett says standing close behind me now.

Thank god, I think.  Saved me AGAIN.

“Oh, what do we have here?  This your boyfriend now, Cora?  My little daughter’s all grown up?” he says, turning to spit a wad of tobacco out of his mouth as he finishes. 

Half of it runs down his chin and he just wipes it off on his sleeve.  He’s as repulsive as the last time I saw him.

Everett has moved next to me and I feel him brushing my side as he gets himself more in front of me than by my side.

My dad sees this, and Everett’s stature, and takes a step back.  He surveys the scene and says, “What, you having some kind of a date night with my daughter?  That what this is about?”

Calm as ever, Everett says, “Just having dinner together.  Two friends,” he says.

And then I can’t believe what he says next.

“Want to come in and join us?  Cora told me all about you.”

“Oh she did now?  And what exactly did my little sweetheart have to say about her old man?”

The fumes from his breath have invaded the foyer and I can feel the nausea boiling up in my stomach.  I take a step further back and I can only see half of his profile now.  Everett is fully between us.

“Well, your daughter,” Everett says, “She’s got the heart of a lion, you know, and she had nothing but nice things to say about you.  That’s something else, isn’t it now?”

I could feel Everett take control of the conversation with those words, but I’ve heard my dad in stiffer arguments.  Many times too.

“And what is your name, big fella?” my dad says to Everett.

“The name’s Everett.  Everett Colson, sir.  And me and your daughter’s just two friends having a nice dinner together.”

“Well, you just keep it that way, son.  If you know what’s good for you… And you behave yourself young lady.  I’ll be back for you later tonight and we’re hitting the road back east.”

My stomach drops through the floor.  And I turn to move further away.  The only thing keeping me from running is the fact that Everett is here.  That he is standing between me and my father.  That he is keeping my father from coming into this house.

I hear grumbling and steps going away, then the door shutting.  Click of the lock.

“Holy shit, Everett.  I am so sorry about that.  I didn’t know he was here.  Didn’t know he would find me.  Didn’t know he was out… that he was out of jail.”

“He’s not going to hurt you now,” Everett says, coming to me and pulling me in close.  “I’m sorry that had to happen tonight, Cora.  Sorry it had to happen at all. 

His arms grip me tight and I move mine around him.  I feel the thickness of his upper back and I hold on tight.   I bury my head in his chest and all my emotions come to surface.  Fear.  Anger.  Tears.

My fucking dad.  I can’t believe it.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” I finally conclude, pushing myself away from Everett.

“No, he says, let’s just stay here and think this through for a minute.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Everett.  He’ll come back.  He said so himself.  I don’t know.  I don’t think I can face him again.  It’s too hard.  I’m too scared.  I don’t want to be around him ever.  Ever again.”

The tears soak my shirt and he pulls me in again, soaking his shirt now too.

“Listen, you’re safe here now, with me.  Let’s just try to relax and we’ll think it through later when we aren’t as emotional about it.”

He leads me to the couch and turns the TV on.  Then puts the wine away and sits down. 

I can’t watch TV right now.  There is nothing on.  There is nothing I can focus on.

He must know that because a few minutes into it, he turns it back off.

“Get some rest, Cora.  I’m going to just do a quick check around the house.”

I don’t want him to leave, but I want to know that I’m safe at the same time.  “Hurry,” I say.  “If you’re gone more than three minutes, I’m calling the police.”

“I’ll be back in two,” he says, steady and sure.