Finding Goodbye Page 14

  I didn’t move.

  “Oh come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  On impulse, I felt my feet start carrying me forward. I climbed up into the cab, and he closed the door behind me. I breathed in the earthy scent of his truck as he climbed in the opposite side and started the engine. He pulled the truck around the back end of the barn, and began following a grassy trail that spread out over my grandparents’ property, snaking through the rolling hills of the back acres.

  We hit a bump, causing the truck to lurch forward in a sort of nosedive. When it leveled, the glove compartment burst open, spilling napkins, various tools, and wine bottle corks. “Whoa, sorry about that,” he said.

  I leaned forward, reaching for the corks that were now rolling around on the floorboard. I held one up for inspection. “You’re not a closet alcoholic are you?” I asked, noting that there were at least fifteen or so corks surrounding me. The glove compartment was a terrible place to store alcoholic trinkets. I really hoped this wasn’t a cry for help, because I had a hard enough time taking care of my own problems.

  “No.” He laughed, reaching for the cork in my hands. “I collect these. I have a couple of friends who save them for me, and when I see them, I just toss them in the glove compartment unintentionally forgetting about them until I need them.”

  “Likely story,” I said, smirking.

  Liam tilted his head, giving me a look of disbelief. “I make sculptures with them,” he clarified. “I can show you sometime.”

  “You mean like art sculptures?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I guess. It’s really just something I tinker with when I can’t sleep.”

  “Sounds interesting,” I commented, intrigued.

  In the near distance, I spotted a giant oak tree whose branches were just beginning to bloom with small leaf buds. Liam pulled the truck up to the base of the tree and cut the engine. The creek, I realized, was just along the hillside, and I could hear the restless water flowing downstream, cutting over rocks in its path. Liam was rifling through contents in his back seat, and came forth with a red and black plaid blanket.

  “Nice,” I said.

  “Every responsible vehicle owner has an emergency supply tucked away in their car. You never know when you might break down and need a blanket,” he said.

  I followed him out of the truck, and helped spread the blanket across the tall grass at the base of the tree. I sat down with my back pressed up against the trunk, and he sat next to me, mere inches separating our bodies.

  He reached into the mystery bag and pulled out two sandwich baggies. “Looks like a turkey and cheese, and a PB and J.” He turned to look at me. “Your choice.”

  “Peanut butter and jelly,” I said. He handed it to me. He rifled around in the bag and pulled two bottles of water to the surface, along with an unopened bag of potato chips.

  “She really packed this thing,” Liam commented.

  “If I know my grandma,” I said, “I’m guessing there’s pie.”

  Liam dug deeper, his right arm disappearing at his bicep. He pulled forth a Rubbermaid container, and inside were two slices of apple crisp pie.

  “Everything but the kitchen sink,” he said, rattling the container.

  I repeated the phrase, laughing. A light breeze sifted through the branches from above, bringing down an earthy aroma of budding flowers that mingled with the scent of the grass surrounding us.

  “I’ve been wondering,” he said a moment later, “that class ring you wear around your neck, is it a boyfriend’s?”

  I reached up impulsively, pressing the stone between my thumb and forefinger. “No,” I answered, “not a boyfriend’s.”

  “Yours?”

  “It’s kind of personal,” I said, swallowing a bite of my sandwich.

  “I’m just trying to get to know you.” He looked up at me from underneath those long, dark eyelashes of his, piercing me with his gaze. I counted three–maybe four–shades of green churning in the depths of his irises.

  “Sorry,” I said, picking at the crust on my sandwich. “It belonged to my brother. It’s how I keep him close to me.”

  Liam was quiet for a minute, taking a sip of water before he spoke again. “My mom passed away three years ago. She had cancer,” he said.

  I looked up at him then with a new sense of understanding, studying his profile and the light that suddenly diminished from his eyes.

  “She would have liked you,” he said, revealing a sad smile.

  “Me?”

  “My mom really liked to paint,” he explained. “Every inch of the walls was covered in her artwork, and when she ran out of room she just started stacking canvases down the length of the hall. Our house became a maze after a while, there were paths carved out specifically for walking.” He grinned, shaking his head at the memory.

  “What did you do with all of it?” I asked.

  “I have a sister that lives in Ohio,” he said, “she took half of the paintings for herself, but the others are still hanging over the walls in my house.”

  “My brother was studying to be a veterinarian, you know.”

  “So that’s why you nearly choked on your dinner the other night.” He laughed.

  “Oh you remembered, great.” I felt my cheeks begin to flame in embarrassment. I looked away, focusing my gaze on a grass stain at the bottom of my jeans. “It just surprised me,” I said. I hadn’t been expecting that answer, or another similarity that would link us together.

  Liam finished his sandwich and placed the empty baggie inside the paper bag, and busted the seal on the bag of chips.

  “He would have liked you,” I said.

  It was our way of telling the other that we were sorry without actually having to say it. I had heard the sentiment so often that it had begun to lose its potency. But really, what else was there to say?

  “So, if you’re a junior this year, why aren’t you shadowing any veterinary offices?” I asked. “Doesn’t the undergrad program require you to have a certain amount of clinical hours before you apply to a finishing program?”

  “I do, and yes,” he said. “Most of my classes are early ones, so I shadow at Baron’s Clinic during the week.”

  “You stay busy,” I said.

  “Yeah, I’m not really one for lying around and doing nothing,” he said. “I think a lot of that has to do with the way I was raised.”

  “Were your parents big go-getters?”

  “The opposite, actually.” He leaned back into the base of the tree trunk so that our shoulders were practically touching. “My dad left before I was born, and my mom didn’t have a lot of family, so she lived off the system until she met my stepfather. He was a piece of work, to put it mildly. He was an abusive alcoholic, always in trouble with the law–always owing money–that sort of thing. I never understood what she saw in him, or why she stayed.” There was a contrite sounding edge to his voice, matching the hard set of his jaw.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said. It was both sad and amazing, learning what you missed when you were just looking at someone on the surface. Watching him, seeing the way he presented himself, you’d never guess he’d come from that kind of background.

  “It’s okay,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “After she passed, and he was out of the picture for good, I decided that I didn’t want any part of that lifestyle. I mean I always knew I didn’t want it, but I never wanted to leave my mom in those conditions. I stayed for her–to take care of her.”

  Instead of succumbing to his environment, he created a life for himself that he could be proud of. And that was pretty incredible. “Your mom was lucky to
have you,” I said. I wanted to tell him how amazing I thought he was, but I decided to keep the thought to myself.

  “So,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up into a playful grin, “do you have a boyfriend?” I assumed this was his way of changing the subject.

  “Not currently,” I replied.

  He nodded, taking another sip of his water.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” I felt compelled to ask.

  “Not currently.” A pause and then, “What’s your favorite color?”

  “What are you doing?” I asked, lifting a brow in skepticism.

  “Like I said, I’m just trying to get to know you.” The sound of his voice alone was enough to get my insides swirling with butterflies. He had a way of enunciating every syllable in the most articulate sense.

  “I’m afraid I’m not that interesting.” I sighed, crumpling my wrapper and tossing it in the brown paper bag.

  “I guess I’d like to find out for myself,” he said.

  I could hardly believe this was happening. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy had asked me questions like this, or wanted to get to know me. Most of the guys I dated had gone to school with me, so there was a lack of mystery I seemingly missed out on. Even Luke, who was the closest guy I had ever been to, didn’t really ask these basic sorts of questions. I supposed there were no surprises left when you grew up with someone like we had.

  “Green,” I answered finally, thinking of his eyes. “What’s yours?”

  “Black,” he stated.

  “Black isn’t a color,” I told him.

  His brows laced together in confusion. “What do you mean black isn’t a color?”

  “It’s a value,” I said simply.

  Liam continued to stare at me, his expression baffled, as if I had said one of the most outrageous things he’d ever heard.

  “A value is the lightness or darkness of color tones,” I explained. “So while white would be your lightest value, black would be the darkest.”

  “You’re right.” He sucked in a deep breath and blew out. “You’re not that interesting. We definitely can’t be friends.” Liam started to get up as if he were just going to leave me behind, but I detected the playful edge in his voice and threw my water bottle cap at his chest.

  “Don’t go,” I said, laughing as he sat back down.

  He laughed, propping his arms over his knees as he leaned back into the trunk of the tree. I lost track of time as we sat there, asking each other simple, lighthearted questions, the conversation flowing easily.

  We learned each other’s favorite and least favorite foods, and talked about music and concerts we had been to in the past. I learned that he liked old western movies, and he’d asked me about my favorite books–a subject that I could have discussed forever. It was a nice change, this getting to know one another bit, but as the sun began to set in the western hemisphere I knew our time was almost up.

  “Well,” he sighed, “we should probably get back. Your grandparents are going to think I’m slacking on the job.”

  “I’ll tell them I was holding you against your will.” I grinned, moving off the blanket so that I could fold it up. We loaded the truck and made our way back across the fields and finally, to the barn.

  ***

  Maverick was standing in the center of the round pen with the golden evening sunlight glinting off his coat. I disappeared into the barn to retrieve his Jolly Ball, and then presented him with the peppermint scented toy. He sniffed it curiously, and then pulled his lips back over his teeth, almost as if he were smiling, and then took the handle between his teeth. I watched as he pranced around the ring with his new toy, resembling a satisfied kid on Christmas morning.

  “He definitely likes it,” I noted.

  “It was a good choice,” Liam agreed. He looked over at me and smiled.

  “Do you want some help, with your evening chores or whatever?” I asked, not wanting our time together to end just yet. I was pressing my luck, I realized, allowing myself to tiptoe on the edge of happiness. I was always all-too-aware that everything in life was temporary, the fear always present from past circumstances. But there was something about being near to him that made me want to risk it all.

  “Sure,” he said, “I’ll walk you through my routine.”

  I followed him into the barn and helped him with the evening feed. He checked to make sure each stall was clean before we retrieved the horses from the field, and made sure the water troughs were full. We put out food for the stray barn cats, checked on the chickens, and then started for the door.

  As we stepped out of the barn, I felt my stomach drop. Up ahead, I spotted Luke bumping down the gravel lane, leaving a trail of dust drifting in the evening air behind his car.

  “Someone you know?” Liam nodded in Luke’s direction.

  “That would be my friend, Luke.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, tucking my hands in the back pockets of my jeans. For whatever, inexplicable reason, I felt a wave of guilt pass through me as Luke parked his car next to mine, and hopped out. I hadn’t mentioned Liam in any of our conversations… It wasn’t like I was trying to keep him a secret or anything, but the opportunity hadn’t exactly presented itself for me to bring him up, either. I swallowed around the lump in my throat as he started in our direction.

  “Hey Luke,” I called, but his eyes were busy scanning the strange guy beside me. His jaw was set, I realized as he got closer. “What are you doing here?” I hoped my tone hadn’t come across too standoffish.

  “Since when have I had to ask to come by and see you?” He smiled, but I could tell it was forced. “I got out of work early so I just thought I’d stop out and visit.”

  I nodded. “Luke, this is Liam. He works for my grandparents,” I said, introducing the two.

  Liam extended his hand, and Luke took it firmly; giving one solid shake before he let go. I could practically feel the atmosphere begin to pulse with some weird, electrical testosterone fueled charge.

  “Hey man,” Luke said.

  “How’s it going?” Liam offered politely.

  “Good bro, so you work here then?”

  Liam nodded. “Yeah, on the weekends and Tuesdays; I just help Darcy’s grandfather with some of the heavy lifting, and I work with the horses.”

  “You should see this rescue horse we’ve been working with, his name is Maverick, and he’s amazing,” I said.

  “Stubborn,” Liam added. “He seems to want to please Darcy though. I couldn’t train him without her help.”

  “You’re helping train the horses?” Luke asked me, his eyebrows contorting in apprehension.

  “Well, yeah,” I answered.

  “Is that smart, with your condition?”

  “My condition?” I asked pointedly. Suddenly, I felt so small. Never had Luke made me feel like I was different because of what happened to me. I could feel the scowl on my face growing as anger pulsed through my being.

  “I just mean, I don’t really think it’s safe for you.”

  “I think I can decide that for myself,” I said bitterly. I tried to rein in my anger, knowing that deep down Luke had only ever been concerned with my well-being. I tried to tell myself that it had just been a bad misplacement of words. Luke didn’t really mean what he had said.

  “She’s a natural out there,” Liam said, his tone completely neutral. We were standing close together against the railing; I felt his hand resting discretely, reassuringly, on my lower back.

  “She always has been,” Luke said, matter-of-factly.

  Grandma burst through the screen door on the back porch, and I had never
been so glad for a distraction in all my life. “Luke, is that you?” she called.

  “Hey Evelyn,” he called back.

  “I’ve just made dinner, why don’t you all come in and get a bite to eat?” she suggested.

  “Be right there,” I called after her.

  “I can’t stay,” Liam said to me, dropping his hand. “I’ve got an exam I need to study for.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Thank you, for today.”

  He nodded. “Luke. Nice meeting you.”

  “You too man,” Luke said, slipping his arm over my shoulders, guiding me toward the porch.

  “I’ll see you around, Darcy,” Liam said to me before turning for his truck. I waited until Luke and I were on the porch before I shrugged out from underneath his arm.

  “What was all that about?” I questioned him.

  “What?” he asked, pulling open the screen door.

  “Back there, with Liam.” I pointed toward the barn where we had been standing just moments before. “You were so cold toward me, and then you got all possessive.” I accused him.

  “I was just a little surprised is all,” he said, hanging his jacket on a spare wooden peg in the mud room. “Why didn’t you tell me you were working with the horses, or that there was some strange guy out here working for your grandparents?”

  “Liam isn’t strange,” I said defensively. “And besides, it wasn’t like I was keeping anything from you, it just didn’t come up.”

  “Well don’t blame me for worrying about you,” he said, pressing his fingertips into his chest.

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” I replied flatly, hoping he’d drop the subject.

  Luna scrambled through the doggy-door, squawking and flapping her wings. She went directly for Luke, nipping at his pant leg and shaking it violently once she got ahold.

  “Ouch, hey, get this duck off me!” Luke struggled to maintain his balance while he flailed around, trying to get her to break free.

  Grandma pushed the door open and bent to free Luke’s pant leg from Luna’s beak. “I am so sorry,” Grandma cried, pulling her off. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, she’s usually not like this.”