Page 39

CHAPTER

FOUR

Rory

“Dr. Terry, I can’t thank you enough,” I say, nearly three and a half weeks later.

While Sassy and I both still have casts on, my ribs are already feeling better, and I can see out of both eyes once again now that the swelling and bruising has dissipated. That means, it’s time to hit the road once again. Not sure where I’ll go, of course, but until I can figure out how to get rid of Patrick for good, I refuse to return to the property my grandparents left to me.

“The pleasure was all ours,” he says. “Both Judith and I enjoyed having the two of you around. You said Sassy was a feral when you first got her?”

Nodding, I reply, “Yes. One of the barn cats had kittens but the mother was killed by a predator. The babies were still too young to be weaned and all were little hissy bits, that’s for sure. I took them up to Dr. Zack who showed me how to bottle feed them. Despite constant feedings and cuddling, the only one who ever gentled enough to be handled was Sassy, so I got her fixed and vaccinated and she’s been by my side ever since. The others were fixed too, but Dr. Zack tipped their ears so anyone who saw them would know they weren’t able to procreate, and we would trap them every year for their annual vaccines. Unfortunately, a rabid fox got to them in the barn one day, so the only one left is Sassy since she was an indoor kitty by that time.” I can’t help the way my eyes well up thinking about the scene Grampy and I walked into that fateful morning. Thank God he had his shotgun; he put the fox down, then got one of his farmhands to help him bury what was left of the barn cats.

“Well, she’s a beautiful girl,” he states. “Now, I know you can’t go home yet, but when you find someplace to land in a few weeks, call me or Dr. Zack and one of us should know somebody in the area to recommend so you can get y’all’s casts removed, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“None of that now,” he chides, pulling me in for a hug.

It’s been so long since someone has hugged me with any affection, at least since Grampy passed, that I find myself fighting back more tears. Both of my grandparents were affectionate toward those they loved, so I grew up being told I was loved and hugged frequently by those in my life. When my grams passed, it was hard on me and Grampy both, but we managed, because neither of us was afraid to cling to the other when grief hit. Although, looking back, I think I was probably the worst of the two of us simply because Grampy tried to be strong for me. Still, he never shied away when I would tell him I needed a hug.

Patrick never hugged me. Hell, for the past four months, he didn’t even touch me, so I knew he was cheating on me. Probably with that floozy, Mary Jane Blevins. She always had her eye on him and quite bluntly, she’s welcome to him. My grandparents showed me what a true loving relationship should be like, and it doesn’t involve verbally berating me, or putting hands on me in anger. Both of which Patrick chose to do.

“Thank Judith again for me,” I request. “And I promise I’ll keep in touch, although being completely honest, it’s been years since I’ve had anyone worrying about me.”

“Well, we will worry if we don’t hear from you, young lady,” he advises, grinning at me. “Now, Judith packed up some food for you to take so you wouldn’t have to stop until you were ready to do so for the night.”

“Y’all have been too kind to me,” I murmur, as he grabs the picnic basket in one hand and Sassy’s carrier in the other. “I can take her.”

“No, no. I want to see this contraption you have set up for her in the RV,” he says, grinning.

Shaking my head, I lead him to the RV, where he places the basket inside the door before opening up the passenger door.

“See, it works like this,” I tell him, unzipping the top. It’s got a strap that goes around the seat itself and the seatbelt then goes around the front, but the carrier is mesh-sided and big enough that Sassy can lay down or sit up depending on her mood. He easily transfers her from the plastic, hard-sided carrier into her ‘car seat’, then closes the door.

“That’s pretty nifty,” he muses as he watches her get settled. “What happens if you’re driving, and she acts like she’s got to go to the bathroom?”

“Oh! Come in through here and I’ll show you,” I exclaim, opening the door again then ushering him inside. “I put a self-cleaning litter box back here, which helps tremendously with odor control.”

He laughs while nodding. “Yeah, this is a small enough space it would get pretty rank in here with a regular box, I’m sure.”

“If she has to go, I can unzip the side of the carrier, she’ll come out and do her thing then after she gets some food and a drink of water, she comes back when I call her.”

“Amazing. Most cats do their own thing.”

“I think, and of course I’m no expert, but because I kept her strapped to me since she was so little, she thinks I’m her packmate or something,” I admit. “Sometimes, she acts more like a dog than a cat.”

“Could be. I’m always fascinated by how different each animal is, and find out new things regarding their character all the time,” he says. “Okay, so we won’t be helicopter friends or anything like that, but Judith will worry if you don’t at least text to let us know you’ve landed safely somewhere. Say, every couple of days?” he queries, grinning at me.

I giggle because I suspect they’ll both worry whether or not they say otherwise. Their only child, a son, was killed several years ago in a work-related accident. Judith has poured herself into volunteering all over the place, while he oversees a thriving veterinarian practice. “I can do that, and again, thank you both so much for all you’ve done.”

“You’re more than welcome. Don’t be a stranger, Rory. You’re always welcome here.”

I hug him once more then get into the driver’s seat, ready to hit the road and see where it’s going to take me.

“This looks like a good place to hang out for a week or so, Sass,” I murmur as I pull into a campground and RV park. I found it doing a Google search when I stopped to fill up an hour or so ago. It’s off the interstate and the area is so picturesque, I felt I needed to stay for a little while. Since fleeing my farmhouse, I’ve been constantly surrounded by people, and I need to fully decompress, then set up a plan of action regarding Patrick.

Stopping at the small building that has ‘Office’ over the door, I glance at Sassy and see she’s passed out right now and grin. She spent some time earlier today chilling on our loft bed after eating, and after all that activity, I figure she’s recharging for late-night zoomies, which is her typical modus operandi. Even with her cast, she still manages to cause havoc.

“Be right back, girl,” I say, getting out of the RV and locking it so I can keep it running for her.

As I walk into the office, I smell cinnamon and breathe in deeply, blushing when I hear someone say, “Smells like home, doesn’t it?”

“Actually, yes,” I admit, walking to the counter. “I’m Rory Stallings, I called about an hour or so ago and rented a site for the next week.”

“Ah, yes, here it is,” the man, whose name tag says Fred, replies. “Set you up on one of my favorite sites. The views are all gorgeous, but this one is a personal choice for me and my wife.”

I slip my debit card from my secret account out of my back pocket and quickly read the one-page contract he sets in front of me before I sign and initial where the ‘X’ is, then slide it back along with my card. “Is there a grocery store nearby?” I ask.

“Give me one second, my Gloria would be pissed at me if I didn’t give you the whole spiel,” he advises, chuckling. “She normally does this but had to go help our young’un’ out with the baby. I’m all thumbs when it comes to this kind of stuff.”

“No worries, I’m in no hurry at all,” I reply, smiling at him. Soon, I’m on my way back out to my RV with a map of the sites in hand, as well as a brochure that lists every possible interest someone could have, from antique shopping to grocery stores and restaurants. Getting back in, I see Sassy is still snoozing, so I put the RV in reverse then follow the map to our home away from home for the next week or so. Time is irrelevant right now since I do medical billing and coding from home and can work anywhere.

Once I’ve parked, I go through the process Grampy taught me, hooking up the bathroom hoses and water lines so I can shower and what-not. Tomorrow or the next day is soon enough to go into town and restock my pantry; I’ve still got plenty left from what Dr. Terry and Judith sent with me, plus what I already had stocked up on.

“God, it’s so pretty here,” I murmur, taking a good look around. Trees are plentiful and across the way, there’s a gorgeous lake at the base of the mountain. The shimmering water is soothing and just what I need to help further ease the tension that’s had me wound up so tightly since I left.

“That was a good movie, huh, Sassy?” I ask, not expecting an answer, as I shut my laptop down.

I’ve already caught up on my work, checked and cleared out my emails, and paid my bills, which thankfully are all online or autopay through my separate bank account. No paper trail for me so that Patrick isn’t able to find me right now. Grabbing some pajamas, I head into the bathroom to shower and get ready for bed. It’s early and I’ll probably regret it when I’m awake before the sun comes up, but driving is still a bit challenging with my cast. After wrapping it up while the water warms, I step into the phonebooth sized stall and quickly wash my hair and body. I tend to be a no muss kind of girl, so I don’t spend hours in the shower. Nope. I shave when I have to, put conditioner in my long hair when I remember, and seldom think about things like exfoliating or moisturizing.

“You’re a real catch, Rory,” I jest at my reflection once I’ve wiped the steam off the mirror. “Who wouldn’t want all of this?” I wave my casted arm down my body.

Now giggling at my own thoughts, I dry off then slip into my cat mom pajama set, then clean up the bathroom, tossing my dirty clothes into the hamper that’s tucked into a closet which doubles as some storage space. Grampy and I did a lot of customizing in here and I’m still amazed that what we did has given me everything I need despite the lack of overall space. After I brush my teeth, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge, double check that the doors are all locked up tight and the window blinds are pulled, then crawl up to the loft, my e-reader in hand.

Time to put this day to bed because it’s been a long one. Tomorrow, I’ll worry about creating a comprehensive to-do list, but tonight is all about relaxing.

Waking up the next morning, I smile hearing the birds chirping. “Time to start the day, sweet girl,” I say, climbing down from my loft and heading to the bathroom. Once my morning routine is done and I’m dressed, I fill up her dry food dish, refresh her water, then put down a can of wet food for her, before stepping outside with my own guilty pleasure, a diet soda.

“God, Fred was right,” I murmur, staring in awe at the lake as the sun comes up over the horizon. The colors are phenomenal, and I wish I was able to put what I’m seeing down on paper. Unfortunately, I don’t have the artistic gene. I can bring a plant back from the grave, cook and bake well enough to open my own place, and hunt and fish, but drawing is outside my wheelhouse.

Unless you like stick figures, that is. Snickering at my own thoughts, I sit in the camping chair I brought out yesterday and sip my wake-up juice while I enjoy the birds singing and the sky changing color with the dawning of a new day.

“Maybe I’ll put Sassy’s harness on later and take her on a walk.” Since she’s a spoiled, pampered princess, her outdoor time is now reduced to a leash and harness, but she doesn’t seem to mind, and there are several marked trails that lead down to the water’s edge.

Once the sun has risen, I head back inside to make breakfast so I can tackle any work that’s come in. Already I feel as if the weight of the world has fallen off my shoulders.

No, all my problems haven’t miraculously disappeared, not by a longshot. But being around some good, kind, giving people these past few weeks has reminded me that not everyone is an asshole out for themselves, like Patrick.

“I don’t know about my picker, Sassy,” I muse as I scramble eggs. She’s curled up on the table looking out the window but turns her head and meows at me. “Yeah, you’re right, he did say all the right things, and I was just so darned lonely with Grampy gone.”

It was definitely a low time in my life, that’s for damn sure. Once Grams passed, we found a new normal, working on fixing up the RV, although it wasn’t in bad shape to begin with, planting the garden, tending the chickens. He used to have a small stand down at the local farmer’s market, and the farm fresh eggs plus the vegetables he brought were always well-received. I would often make loaves of bread using Grams’ tried and true recipe, and I can still see him in my mind’s eye, walking through the door practically giddy. “Rory,” he’d say, each time I made the bread, “sold outta the bread in five minutes, girlie!”

“Damn, I miss you, Grampy,” I whisper, my eyes welling up with tears. “You and Grams didn’t have to take me on, that’s for sure. You were older and had already raised your family, but I remember you yelling at that social worker that I was your kin, your blood, and you didn’t give a damn what they thought, I was coming home with y’all. Best years of my life, hands down.”

When I was younger, before I went to live with my grandparents full-time, I spent a lot of time there because my mother was flighty and would take off to follow her dreams at the drop of a hat. Unfortunately, she got tangled up with the wrong crowd and it led her down a dark path to drugs and domestic violence. The only reason the authorities found out what happened is because I was supposed to be dropped off at their house and when I wasn’t, Grampy went on a tear, demanding a welfare check be done.

Because regardless of how out of it my mother got, she always remembered to drop me off with her parents. I like to think she knew I’d be safe and well-taken care of, but since she’s dead, I can’t ask.

When the police arrived, they found me, at six, hiding in a closet with my mother’s dead body on the couch, the needle still in her arm. Thankfully, I never saw that; I was in the closet because the last thing I remembered, she told me to stay in there and not come out because some people were coming over. Unfortunately, as best as they were able to determine, I was alone for nearly four days.

But Grampy and Grams didn’t care. I reeked to high heaven because I wet myself more than once, I was hungry, dehydrated, and sick, but my grampy held me close and carried me to the ambulance, having ignored the officers when they advised him to wait. I ended up spending a week in the hospital while the officials tried to figure shit out and my grandparents never left my side. Well, Grampy did so he could ‘give that social worker a piece of his mind’, which he did, several times. I think he finally wore her down because when I was discharged, I left with them in his old pickup truck, and never went back.

“Y’all taught me so much,” I murmur, plating my food. Still lost in the past, I sit at my small table, which can double as a bed if needed, and begin eating.

I learned how to be a farmer, as Grampy said, and got some ‘good old Christian learning’ every Sunday when we’d pile in the truck and head to the small church in town. They taught me right from wrong, how important it was to treat others the way I wanted to be treated, and did everything they could to shower me with love and affection.

“It’s because of y’all that I’m not a screwed-up mess, isn’t that right, Sassy?” I ask, as I slide my leftover eggs toward her, which she quickly gobbles up.

Once I have my breakfast dishes washed and put up, I sit at the table with my ever-present notebook and a pen, and start making my list of things I need to do with respect to Patrick. Sighing as I look it over, I decide a walk will do both me and Sassy some good. She’s not a huge fan of the harness, but doesn’t resist too much. Grabbing a bottle of water, I head outside, being sure to lock my door since I’m a woman traveling by myself. I already have my gun on me, grateful that Grampy showed me how to be a responsible carrier. He strongly believed that a woman should know how to protect herself and now that I’m traveling by myself, I’m glad he insisted I learn how to shoot.

At the water’s edge, I can’t help the giggles that escape as I watch Sassy begin chattering. There are some fish who are jumping up then splashing back into the lake, and she’s absolutely fascinated, even though I know she doesn’t have the first clue what to do with a live fish. No, hers comes from an aluminum can. Once I’m done with my water, I gently tug the leash and we start meandering back to our campsite.

“Shew, that was a hot mess,” I mumble, hitting save on my laptop. One of the offices I do billing for apparently had some kind of glitch in their system, and I spent three hours trying to fix things so that the duplicate invoices didn’t get sent.

Because that would’ve created a shitstorm of epic proportions for the folks at the office. Satisfied that everything is now back on track, I stand and stretch before heading to the refrigerator to see what I can rustle up for lunch. Glancing around, I notice Sassy sunning herself, her tail twitching as she dreams about things only she knows about. “Silly girl,” I say, before fixing myself a sandwich. I notice it’s gotten dark outside so check my weather app to see a severe thunderstorm is headed toward me.

“Fantastic,” I grumble, putting my food down and heading outside to bring in the stadium chair I had near the small fire pit. It’s a nicer one, with cupholders and a small table that flips up and I definitely don’t want to lose it to the winds that are already whipping up. Once it’s safely tucked underneath the RV in the storage compartment that Grampy added, I look around to make sure there’s nothing else that might cause damage to my vehicle. Satisfied I’ve done all I can do, I head back inside, lock the doors, then make sure I’ve saved all my work before I send a quick email to my boss letting her know that once the storm passes, I’ll jump back in and finish my assigned tasks.

She’s actually pretty cool, as long as we get the offices we oversee taken care of, she doesn’t care what time of day we work, or if we push to do it all in one day so we’re ‘off’ the rest of the week. I get a quick response telling me to be careful and smile.

I may feel a bit disconnected from everything right now, but Shanda is one person I can always count on to check on me, which she’s steadily done since I sent her the email letting her know of my present situation. She suggested I get a post office box, which I took care of online, putting Jolie from Dr. Zack’s office on it as well so she could pull my mail and advise of anything important I needed to address. That was a pain in the ass, because I had to go into each of my online accounts and update my information. The thing is, I want nothing going to the farm right now with Patrick staying there, which Jolie confirmed when she drove by and saw his car in the driveway.

“I’m sorry, Grampy,” I whisper as a crack of thunder rumbles overhead. “But I don’t know how to make him leave, and I won’t risk myself or Sassy again.”

As if I conjured him up, I can hear him in my head saying, “Rory, girl, it’s just a house. You and that four-legged baby of yours are what’s most important. Buildings can be replaced but people and the pets they love can’t.”

“You’re right, Grampy,” I reply out loud. It’s become a habit to talk to myself, or Sassy, since I’m now on my own. I’m sure if people saw me, they’d think I was crazy and maybe I am, at least just a little bit. Who isn’t these days, right? The world’s going to hell in a handbasket, so if folks can’t realize there are bigger issues, then they’re the problem, not me and my ramblings.

Grabbing my plate with my sandwich on it, I climb up to my loft then snag my e-reader from the charger. Might as well read for a little bit and maybe take a nap while the thunder rolls.