Rock and a Hard Place (2 page)

“
What’s wrong with here?”
He twirled a long blade of grass between his fingers.

“
Everything.” Where to
begin? Nothing about this place fit. It was all wrong. She didn’t
belong here and never would. She wasn’t about to explain her
screwed up life to Peter. “Just everything.”

“
Okay, that tells me a
lot.” He smiled, gazed straight into her eyes and didn’t look away.
Her stomach turned upside down. “You want to elaborate?”

“
No.” She swallowed and
looked away. His life sounded much more interesting. “So what’s the
name of your band?”

“
You like to change the
subject.” He grinned.

She noticed how his eyes sparkled each time
he smiled. “Yes I do,” she said with no apologies. “So?”

“
Jamieson. Our band is
called Jamieson.” He watched for her reaction then asked, “ever
heard of us?”

“
Should I have? It doesn’t
sound familiar.”

“
Really? You’ve never heard
of us?” He wore a look of disbelief.

“
No, do you play around
here? We have a park pavilion that has groups sometimes. Is that
why you stopped in Rockville?” Libby had to admit she never
listened to music anymore. It all ended up sounding like sad
songs.

“
No, we haven’t played
around here.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Don’t you listen
to the radio?”

She sighed. She didn’t want him to think she
was an idiot. “Listen, I know it sounds strange, but, no, I don’t
listen to the radio. In fact, I don’t even own one.” Anymore.

“
Seriously?” His jaw
dropped open.

“
Let’s just say I live an
unconventional life without all the modern trappings of society.”
She watched for his reaction.

“
How about a computer?” He
asked.

“
Nope.”

“
A TV?” He offered. She
could tell that now he was the one having trouble believing her
story.

Libby shook her head no. “Let’s just say I
get really good grades. And I love nature. That’s why I come here
so often. What’s your reason for stopping?”

“
We come here because my
Mom likes how private it is. You know how Moms are. Anytime she can
find a spot that’s surrounded by nature and not all highway, she
puts it on the schedule.”

Libby glossed over the Mom comment. She
didn’t want to think of her mom. She missed her so much her heart
hurt. “You’ve been here before?”

“
Quite a few times,
actually.”

Of the dozens, maybe hundreds, of times she
came to Parfrey’s, she never saw them. How odd that today they
would meet. This news warmed her insides. She wondered how many
times in this last lonely year they just missed each other coming
and going.

“
Hey Petey, who’s your
girlfriend?”

Peter’s other brother yelled as he moved
toward them with a cocky walk and hooded eyes. He appeared older, a
little shorter than Peter and not nearly as good looking. He stared
down at her as if she were a mangy dog.

“
That’s Garrett,” he said
under his breath. “Ignore him, he can be a jerk.”

“
Hey Loverboy, Mom said
it’s time to eat.” Garrett stopped before coming too close, as if
Libby was tainted.

Libby pulled her knees in and hugged them.
Garrett made her feel like a second-class citizen. She couldn’t see
any resemblance between him and Peter.

“
I’m coming,” Peter got to
his feet and turned toward Libby. “I’ve gotta go, but maybe
later.”

She’d love to see him more than he’d ever
know.

Libby checked her watch. “Oh my God, I
didn’t realize how late it’s getting, I’ve gotta go.” If she didn’t
leave right now, she’d get the third degree. She flipped the sketch
pad closed and gathered her belongings.

“
Here.” Peter extended a
hand to her, his face kind and close.

“
Thanks.” She grasped his
strong hand and stood enjoying the warm touch of his
skin.

“
It was fun talking. I wish
I’d bumped into you sooner,” he said.

Was he actually disappointed to see her
go?

“
Who knows, maybe I’ll see
you again someday.” He rewarded her with a mega-watt
smile.

“
Maybe.” She couldn’t
imagine it happening, but for the first time in months she felt
happy.

“
Have fun on your tour.”
She dumped the weeds and wild flowers onto the ground. “I’ve gotta
go.”

She hesitated for a moment not wanting to
end the magic. It had been a very long time since she’d relaxed and
hung out with anyone, let alone a great guy who smelled good.

“
Well, bye.” She ran down
the trail into the woods. Once in the thick of the trees she turned
back. Peter stood in the same spot holding one of the wildflowers
she’d left behind. He waved. She waved back then disappeared into
the woods.

She recalled the touch of his hand on hers
and brought it to her cheek. Being with him made her happy and a
little giddy. An unfamiliar sense of euphoria washed over her.

Libby took the long way back, so Peter
wouldn’t see where she lived.

# # #

Libby braced as she approached the beat up
old farmhouse. It loomed forgotten on acres of rich farmland and
wooded areas. Most of the land was leased to a farmer who benefited
from the fertile soil. From what she could tell, the leased
property was her aunt’s sole method of income. The rest of the
property sat abandoned and lonely with a collection of broken down
cars littering the yard. The odor of leaking oil and rusted metal
clung to the air. Once a vegetable garden flourished providing
fresh life and nourishment, but that must have been years
before.

She didn’t know why her aunt let it all fall
apart, but her parents always said Aunt Marge struggled with demons
early in life and never recovered from the fight. Libby heaved a
sigh and inserted her key into the lock on the paint-chipped
door.

Upon entering, the familiar smell of smoke
and trash filled the air. The television blared in the next room,
confirming her aunt’s presence. She hoped to sneak upstairs
unnoticed.

“
Don’t forget to lock the
door behind you. We can’t be taking any chances.” The gritty voice
of her aunt hollered from the sickeningly sweet smoke-filled living
room. “People are getting murdered in their beds every
day.”

“
It’s locked,” she said
resigned. The house was dark, as always. Aunt Marge kept the
curtains closed and shades pulled. She didn’t want the Peeping Toms
watching her. Who would want to watch a middle-aged woman smoke and
drink all day?

“
Come in here and let me
get a look at you.”

Libby dropped her backpack at the foot of
the steps and dragged her feet as she entered the living room. Aunt
Marge reclined in an upholstered chair, her feet on a mismatched
ottoman. A dented up TV tray served as her coffee table, cluttered
with smoking paraphernalia, a bottle of whiskey and a dirty
glass.

“
What’s wrong?” her aunt
demanded while clenching a cigarette between her thin, stained
lips.

“
Nothing.” Libby didn’t
want her aunt to ask questions or take an interest in her. She
pushed her long hair behind an ear as she tolerated the
inspection.

“
You’re not lying to me are
you?” Aunt Marge’s eyes narrowed. “I hate liars.”

“
No, I would never lie to
you. I just have a lot of homework left.”

She grunted in reply. “There’s groceries on
the counter if you’re hungry. Now get upstairs and get your work
done. You know I won’t tolerate laziness. You prove to those school
people you’re doing just fine. I don’t need them snooping around
here again.” She picked up the television remote and started
snapping it at the television, effectively dismissing her.

Libby made her way through the cluttered
house into the kitchen. On the edge of the counter, next to piles
of dirty dishes and old junk mail, sat a torn grocery bag. She
began pulling things out. A bag of cheese popcorn, a box of granola
bars, a bag of red licorice and a warm package of sandwich meat. At
the bottom she found a six pack of soda and three candy bars.

She placed the soda and unappetizing
sandwich meat on a crusty metal shelf in the refrigerator, grabbed
the cheese corn and a candy bar and went up stairs with her
backpack. It was always a relief to leave Aunt Marge behind. With
any luck she wouldn’t hear from her again today. Hopefully she’d
drink herself into a stupor and fall asleep in her sunken
chair.

Once inside her room, she pushed the door
shut, closing out the ugliness below. She set her things on the
neatly made bed. The worn bedspread featured snags and small tears,
but she kept it and everything in the room as clean as possible.
She picked up the small framed picture of her family. Her mom, dad
and little sister Sarah, along with a former version of herself
smiled brightly. The photo was taken while on a rafting trip out
West two years earlier. Their arms hung comfortably on each others’
shoulders, reminding her of the love they shared. She traced their
faces with her finger, returned the photo to its place and wondered
when her dad would come back for her.

Libby moved to the two large windows and
raised them a few inches. Fall air blew in, making her room feel
better. Outside, across the fields, the rear entrance to the
preserve was in perfect view. The spot she’d met Peter. She pulled
a chair near the window and propped her book on her lap as she
began doing homework, checking too often for Peter and the silver
tour bus.

Chapter 2

The next day Libby walked solo through the
crowded halls of Rockville High School.

“
Libby could you come in
here for a minute?” Miss Orman called out, in her friendly way. For
whatever reason, she’d picked Libby as her charity case, someone to
watch over. Apparently there weren’t bigger problems at school, so
it became Miss Orman’s mission to save her. Libby didn’t mind; she
liked her. She was only a couple years out of college and still
believed the world overflowed with sunshine and
rainbows.

“
Yeah, sure.” Libby hiked
the backpack higher on her shoulder and entered the tiny office. It
was always nice to hang with Miss Orman. Posters of positive
thinking with adorable kittens littered the wall, a bulletin board
overflowed with official letters from DARE and school dress code as
well as a couple of long strips of student photos.

She dropped her pack on the floor and sank
into an orange metal chair squeezed in next to an overflowing
bookcase.

Miss Orman settled behind her desk in her
tan dress pants and stylish heels. She leaned toward Libby with
sincerity in her eyes. “So how are things going?”

“
Fine,” Libby offered her
standard answer. Adults either pretended she wasn’t there or looked
at her with pity. Miss Ormon was the closest thing she had to a
friend.

“
Tell me, how are your
classes going?”

“
Math Chem is hard, but I’m
doing okay.”

“
How about at home?
Anything you want to share with me about your aunt?” Her face
showed compassion.

Libby would never consider that dilapidated
old house a home. There was nothing of hers there, other than a few
token items. “I get by. I just try to stay out of the way and not
upset her.”

Miss Orman forced a smile, but her lips were
pressed tight. “Sounds like a good plan, but promise you’ll let me
know if you have any problems.”

Libby nodded.

Miss Orman’s phone rang loudly on the desk.
She ignored it. Miss Orman was the only person who had a clue about
her horrible life with Aunt Marge. She leaned in and asked, “Have
you thought any more about college?”

“
Yeah, I want to go into
graphic design, but I’m going to wait for my dad to come back
before I pick a school. We’re going to check out campuses
together.” Libby and her dad planned to travel East to visit
colleges since she turned 14.

“
That’s wonderful,” she
smiled. “How about friends? Are you making any progress?” Her voice
sounded hopeful.

“
Not really, but I don’t
mind. They all think I’m a freak.” It was easier this way. She
never needed to talk about her tragic life.

“
You are not a freak.” Miss
Orman gave her a pointed look. “You are a gifted young lady who has
been through a difficult time.”

That was an understatement. Miss Orman’s
support made Libby feel just a little bit protected, like maybe her
Mom was still here.

“
It’s okay. I’d probably
think the same thing about a kid who lived with the town crazy
woman.” Or the other events that turned her from the popular girl
next door, to the ostracized outsider.

“
I don’t want you walking
around believing those kids. You just need to make an effort to get
to know them better. What happened to you working at the concession
stand during the football game?”

“
My aunt said no. She
thinks I’ll be corrupted by all the kids who drink and have sex in
public.” Libby rewarded Miss Orman with a rare smile.

“
Fine, we’ll come up with
something else.” She curled a lock of hair behind her
ear.

Libby pondered her thoughts for a moment
unsure if she should share her news, but then couldn’t help
herself.