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“I don’t know how much you know…” I ran my finger along my fork uncomfortably. “I went to prison—”
“But you’re out now,” she sang. “I know you didn’t do it.”
I smiled, almost convinced. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to spend an evening with Polly, maybe even a roll in the hay at the end of it all. But I was in no position to date responsibly. I was a train wreck, and I knew it. I had to figure my shit out before I could try to make it work with anyone else. Polly was beautiful, but she deserved more.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m just no good for a relationship right now.”
She sighed a great, big dramatic sigh, and heaved herself to her feet. “If you change your mind…”
“I just have to look for the prettiest waitress this side of the Mississippi.” I winked.
Polly blushed and hurried away, with no feelings hurt. I ate my cheeseburger and finished my tea. It was hard work doing the right thing sometimes. I wondered if I would have the same amount of restraint the next time I ran into a beautiful woman willing to spend a night with me. It was a ridiculous thought. This was Singer’s Ridge, and beautiful women were in short supply. If I’d never left town, my odds of stumbling into a one-night stand were poor at best. I would just have to content myself with being the better man.
I escaped from the affections of the waitresses by leaving a big tip. They had a hard job, and I knew it. If all us little people supported each other, life would be better all around. I still had twenty minutes left in my break by the time I got back to the lumberyard. My choices were limited. I could say hello to my mom, bother my dad in the office, go back to work early, or sit in the truck and look at my phone. None of them seemed like a winner, but I decided to check on Mom. For all her bellyaching, she was still important to me.
I knocked on the kitchen door before pushing it open and stepping inside. “Mom?” I announced myself.
“Hello.” She seemed surprised to see me. I kept my visits to a minimum, it was true. But Polly’s admission that she knew I was innocent gave me strength to deal with the rest of the world.
“I’ve got fifteen minutes left on my break,” I said. “Can I help with anything?”
“Oh.” She considered my offer. “Can you stir this?” She handed over a wooden spoon and disappeared into the pantry.
I looked down into the pot to find what looked like beans. I stirred gently, making sure it didn’t burn. Mom returned with several cans of tomatoes and a can opener. Without speaking, she began cutting the tops off and emptying the contents into the pot.
“Making chili?” I asked.
“Yes,” she sighed.
At that moment, I could almost see the elephant in the room. It was shoved into the space between us, large and ugly, dressed in a prisoner’s uniform. There was no way around it. I was never going to be able to spend time with her without the ghost of my mistakes haunting us. I just wished she could find some modicum of Polly’s enthusiasm. How could a woman I hardly knew be convinced of my innocence when my own mother assumed I was guilty?
My break was up, and I handed the spoon back. She took it with a polite “Thank you.”
I stepped outside, heading back to the yard. Five o’clock couldn’t come fast enough that day—I needed a beer.
4
TAMMY
The first day I spent with Macy and Dillon felt like a hundred years. I had no idea children were so exhausting. I was really impressed by Macy’s patience when Nicky and Daisy refused to eat their vegetables and ran circles around the kitchen table. I did everything I could to help out, including taking the kids on a bug-hunting expedition. We confiscated an old pickle jar and punched holes in the lid. Then we tromped around the cabin, turning over rocks and picking up scurrying creatures.
It was a little bit gross, and definitely not something I would have done in Austin. But the kids loved it. We took the jar back inside, and Macy even let them put a little bit of bread in the bottom to feed the new “pets.” As soon as the kids went to bed, Macy scooped up the jar full of critters and emptied it out in the driveway. We laughed and drank beers while we cleaned the cabin. Dillon had been working all day and finally resurfaced around ten at night.
Macy and I both went to bed early. They didn’t have a lot of extra space, but they set up a cot for me in the laundry room. It had a door that locked and a closet for me to put my things. I would just have to vacate the area once or twice a week when Macy did the family’s washing.
The next day was almost a repeat of the first, except without the bugs. This time I convinced the children to create artwork out of old cereal boxes and toilet paper tubes. At the rate I was going, I would be a kindergarten teacher soon. Dillon must have had some kind of important contract, because he was locked in his office all day once again. When Macy and I finally got the kids to sleep and Dillon took a break, we sat on the couch debating our options.
“I’ve got an idea,” Macy said. “Let’s not call it a night early this time.”
“I’m game,” I said.
“Let’s take you out to a bar and get you laid,” she suggested.
I looked at Dillon in horror and saw that he was laughing. “I’m not ready for a relationship,” I stammered.
“Not a relationship,” Macy clarified. “How long has it been since you’ve been with a man?”
I couldn’t believe I was really having this conversation. Macy wasn’t old enough to be my mom, but she was old enough to be my big sister. Wasn’t this topic taboo in families like ours?
