My gut felt like she had stuck a knife into it. Or at least into the nice casual banter between us that I was enjoying.
Shane: You’re clueless, aren’t you?
Natalie: About what? The water? Not anymore, thanks to you!
Shane: Helpful is my middle name.
Natalie: . . .
I saw the three dots moving, but she didn’t reply for a few moments.
I typed up a text, but waited to hit send: You don’t know any of the horrible things your father did to this town, do you?
Then I rubbed my face, pangs of guilt rose up inside me. What kind of man was I, throwing the deeds of her father in her face the week after the man died? How would I have felt if someone told me the same about Louisa, or my dad? I probably would have flipped out on them. But then I was more volatile than most, after losing multiple family members in such a short span.
I deleted the text without pressing send, and a new one came in from her.
Natalie: Well here’s a helpful hint: don’t make a move on a girl who has a boyfriend.
I squinted in disbelief. I didn’t know why she still felt the need to keep up this boyfriend charade.
Shane: I was born on a day, but that day wasn’t yesterday. Don’t give me that.
Natalie: I’m serious…
Shane: So what does your boyfriend think about you sending sexy selfies to other men?
Natalie: I told you, that was an accident…I meant to send that to my boyfriend.
Shane: Right…Jameson. Great name for a boyfriend. How’s your sex life with “Jameson?”
Natalie: Inappropriate question! And it’s terrific, thank you very much.
I grinned. Might as well push her to the limit if she was going to keep going on this whole lie. I saw her look at the bottle of whiskey when she spat out that name, and I guaranteed she came up with it on the spot.
Shane: It’s really too bad you’re not single. Because I would absolutely love to have some fun with you while you’re here.
Natalie: This isn’t Tinder. And that would be weird, we used to ride bikes together.
Shane: I won’t apologize for being attracted to you.
Natalie: I hate to tell you it’s not going to happen for you.
Shane: Only into those Florida tan bros, eh?
Natalie: No, I’m only into non-assholes.
Shane: Keep telling yourself that.
Okay, that last text might have been over the line. I did have a tendency to get a little too cocky. But hey, it wasn’t cocky if you could back up your talk. She didn’t reply back, and I didn’t, either.
Instead, I decided to call my mom. She always appreciated my calls. She’d been out of town with her boyfriend in Hawaii this week, a trip they’d been planning all year.
It went straight to voicemail.
So I headed to bed and tried to sleep. I couldn’t stop the thoughts about Natalie from clouding my mind as I drifted off.
I was going to see her again, damn right.
The devil woman was going to be mine.
5
Natalie
“The fake boyfriend thing isn’t working. He sees right through it,” I said to my friend from Florida, Lizzie, who chatted with me on my wireless headphones. As we spoke, I multitasked and put my father’s clothes in a box that I was making for a donation. I’d made some headway this morning in terms of packing up.
“Well, makes sense. You kind of botched it when you basically asked him on a date that first night. You’re sending him mixed signals.”
“Well I had to get him back for that joke he played.”
“By sending him a sexy selfie?”
“Yes.”
“I’m just saying, even I’m confused. Do you, or do you not want to see the guy again?”
I grabbed the clear box tape to shut the box.
“I do and I don’t. I…don’t even feel bad about slapping him, he’s such a dick.”
“He sounded like he was asking for it.”
“If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t slap him. I just don’t see where he gets off, talking crap about my father right now.”
“For better or worse, he’s stuck in your head.”
“And I don’t like it. But if Shane was serious about what he said, if he really knew my father…I need to ask him what he meant by that. I mean, I’ll probably never come back here again after I’m done cleaning up my father’s things, and I feel like I should get to the bottom of this weird vibe I’ve been getting around town. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“You think something bad could happen?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged.
“I mean I can envision doing some very bad things to those abs you sent me.”
I blew out a loud breath. I knew Lizzie would get distracted if I sent her that picture of Shane. But I sent it anyway. I needed someone to live vicariously with me and the craziness I was experiencing.
“You’re horrible. I’m being serious.”
“Sorry! Just trying to lighten the mood. I still feel really bad I couldn’t make it up there to the U.P. for the funeral.”
A beat passed, and I taped the box shut.
“When’s the last time you spoke with your dad?” I asked Lizzie.
“Now that he’s dating Tits McGhee and living out in San Diego, I don’t really even like talking to him. It’s like he pretends my mom and him weren’t even a thing, ever.”
Chills washed over me when she said that. Half sympathy for her, and half a stone-cold realization that set in: that’s exactly how my mom liked to view my dad once we left. Like their relationship never happened. He was whitewashed from any pictures she put up in the house. We didn’t speak of him at the dinner table.
The more I thought about it, the more I wondered, and the more I realized I didn’t really know how their relationship had gone south. It was certainly a taboo topic in our household. Whenever I broached the subject with my mom, she would simply rattle off a platitude, like ‘love isn’t always straightforward, honey,’ and change the subject.
Just then, my doorbell rang. I looked outside and saw Shane’s car in the street out front.
“Ugh. He’s here. My silly mom probably feels guilty she’s not here and sent him over here again.”
“For what?”
“To check on me.”
“Alright. Well let me know if there’s something I can do. Love you, beau.”
“Love you too.”
I tossed the tape on the bed and headed to the door.
As soon as I opened it, he blew past me.
“Brought you some filtered water,” he said as I followed him into the kitchen. I noticed he was carrying four of the two-gallon jugs with ropes. He stopped and turned once he got to the kitchen. “Do you like your water room temperature? Or shall I put it in the fridge?”
I crossed my arms. “What exactly is happening right now?”
“You’ll have adverse affects if you keep drinking the tap water. That is 100% certain.” He took off his jacket and hung it up on the hook in the kitchen. Today he was wearing an athletic hoodie.
“We drank two big glassfuls yesterday. I feel fine, do you?”
“I’m serious, Dino. C’mon. This is me, attempting not to be an asshole.”