Campbell (26 page)

“I’m tired. What are you cooking?” He looked at Cara. “Did you make a pie?”

“Cherry, just like you wanted,” she said, beaming. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Paul Miller,” he said, shooting Lucy a knowing grin. “From Chicago. Why?”

Cara shrugged. “Curious, I guess. He keeps looking at me.”

“Go talk to him then,” Bull said, rolling his eyes. “Why do I have to do everything around here?”

“Because you insist on it,” Lucy joked, as he pulled her to her feet. “I don’t know what’s for dinner. Let’s go look.”

Dinner was had, and later in the evening, as was happening more and more, everyone paired off quickly and the pressure was once again on Lucy to entertain her boyfriend in a way that didn’t involve sex. It was getting harder and harder, especially since she’d turned twelve and a lot of their friends had started doing it. It was when sex came up that she felt it; that sinking feeling in her gut that she was damaged, and broken, and if, even for the briefest moment, she showed someone that, everything she’d built would come tumbling down. The new life she’d begun to build would slip out from underneath her. She’d be the person she was supposed to be, instead of the new one that people found funny, respected, and liked.
 

“You’re a million miles away, Goose,” Bull said, cocking his head at her on the couch. “What’s the problem?”

“Do you ever feel like you’re a fraud?”

Bull raised his eyebrows. “No. I’m a liar, and a thief, but never a fraud.”

“I don’t think we should be boyfriend and girlfriend. I don’t think I’m who you think I am.” She wrung her hands in her lap and Bull placed his larger one over hers.
 

“We all get a fresh start now,” he said gently. “I know what I need to know.”

“I don’t,” she replied, her tone brimming over with uncertainty. “Not about anything.”

They both paused at the squeaking sound of someone having sex outside on the porch swing. Lucy sighed. “I won’t even let you touch me.”

He nuzzled her neck with his nose, pressing his lips against her shoulder. “You let me touch you.”

“Not like that,” she shook her head. “And I don’t want to, and you’re going to want that. I’m surprised you don’t already.”

“I’ve already got two kids to take care of,” Bull replied tersely. “I don’t need to think about more. Don’t worry about that.”

Lucy bit her tongue to keep from making a snide comment about how well he was caring for his siblings, coming down to see her on a near-weekly basis. It became very obvious what she needed to do, not only for herself, but for Bull.
 

“I think we should be friends. For now.” Lucy looked at him out of the corner of her eye and hoped he understood, even if she was unable to explain. “I think it’s better.”

“Fine,” Bull nodded, avoiding her eyes, so she wouldn’t see how bothered he was by her rejection. “Friends.”

September 2012

Grove, Old Oklahoma

“Food’s good, huh?” Bull said to Tal, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye from the dinner line. “Not such a bad place to be.”

“Besides the forced baby-making, yeah,” Tal said coolly, seemingly unimpressed by Bull’s superior physique or the way he seemed to be interjecting himself between Tal and Lucy at every opportunity.
 

“Everyone’s got their shit. I’m sure you know that better than most.”

Tal glanced at Lucy, who raised her eyebrows at him and gave him a goofy smile. “Yeah, I’m sure you know that too.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Bull said bluntly, sitting down on the grass with his burger. “Because you don’t do your research.”

“Bull, enough,” Lucy said firmly, sitting between them. “Chill. We’ll leave in the morning?

Bull nodded. “I’ve got enough gas jugs to get us home on the back of my truck.”

“Tal, you’ll come back with us, and then we’ll figure out how to get you back to West?” Lucy looked at him apprehensively and wished they had some time to talk, even though she wasn’t sure what she’d say. Being sandwiched between the only two boys she’d ever kissed was surreal. Sorting through her feelings would take time.

“You really want to come back to Campbell?” Bull swivelled his body and cocked his head at Tal. “I thought you’d want to get back to your people. You’ve got a cousin, right?”

“I do,” Tal said, making an effort to sound sincere. “But I would like to finish what we started last week and hammer out our trade agreement. He glanced at Lucy. “We haven’t exactly been in a situation to talk about it.”

“I don’t know why she’s talking to you about anything at all,” Bull muttered, taking a big bite of his burger. “Clearly you’re just a patsy—”

“Jesus, Bull, he came up to offer to help us get Cole back, and he got the shit beat out of him just like I did. If he still wants to help, after all this, I’m happy to take him up on it.” Lucy gave Bull her most terrifying look. “It’s my arrangement to make.”

“Well, I hope you’re right about him,” Bull leaned in and looked at her. “Because if you’re not, he’s going to be very sorry.” He narrowed his eyes at Tal. “You, and everyone you love—”
 

“Bull, take a fucking walk,” Lucy hissed.

She knew exactly what his problem was, but it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss. Almost ten years had passed since she’d ended things with him, and for him to get touchy about it with the assumptions he was making didn’t surprise her. It pissed her off though, because he’d said time and time again that he was fine, even happy with the way things were.

What was interesting though, was that after only six hours, Bull was seeing clearly what, for Lucy, was still foggy.
 

Her old friend took his plate and stomped off, leaving Tal and Lucy sitting on the grass, dinner on their laps.

“He’s…he was worried about me,” she said apologetically. “It’s nothing personal.”

“He’s big enough to kill me. I was worried about me,” Tal laughed nervously. “It’s fine. He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t have to.”

Lucy’s mind flashed back to their earlier conversation in the tent. “It’s better if he does. It…it takes him a while to trust people. He said Connor was strange when he called him to tell him about Juan. Too sympathetic. He doesn’t trust him. If the situation was reversed, I would have been furious if that had happened to the people I sent in peacefully. That’s what’s got him bothered.”

“It wasn’t your fault though.”

“Connor doesn’t know that. Not for sure.” Lucy shook her head. “It’s just a personality conflict.”

“I do want you…I mean, I want to work with you. Like we talked about.” Tal’s face went flush. “It’s still important.”

“It is. And getting Cole back, it’s the most important thing,” she felt her eyes well up. “I need to know he’s okay.”

“I’ll help, however I can.”

Lucy nodded, thinking back on the night before; how she’d felt with him when they were close. “About last night—”

“We were stoned. It’s fine,” Tal replied, without a hint of emotion in his voice.

“Right,” Lucy mumbled, although it wasn’t what she was planning to say at all. “Of course.”

“I’m going to take a walk,” Tal muttered, flashing Lucy a superficial smile. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

***

Tal ambled to the lake past a bunch of kids, who all looked thoroughly fucked and exhausted, and pulled off his shoes and socks. The cool water felt nice on his feet, and being alone was something he never took for granted. It would be nice to be home, he told himself. Nice to have his own things, and his own house. Showering regularly would be a treat. To have what he needed at his disposal.
 

He wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
 

“What if I didn’t go back?” he asked himself out loud. “Where would I go?”

The answer wasn’t obvious. There was the possibility of a new adventure on the horizon, but there wasn’t anywhere he knew he’d be safe, or that would ultimately be more satisfying than the life he had where things were easy, and he was able to have everything he wanted.
 

“It’s tempting, isn’t it,” Lucy said, sitting down beside him. “To just go and see where you end up.”

He glanced over at her and decided she was as down as he was, which made him feel better. “I’m not sure I’d ever be content.”

“I know I’d never be,” she sighed. “But it’s a nice thought.”

“We never went fishing,” Tal said, as something jumped in the distance. “I think I would have enjoyed that.”

Lucy skipped a rock across the lake, the ripples crossing the fish’s path. “Maybe we should run away together sometime. Go fishing. Pretend we’re those college kids from our trip.”

“I think people would worry.”

“Let them worry,” Lucy said, with a shrug and a grin. “We can just say we got kidnapped again.”

“You can punch me in the face for effect. It’s probably my turn for a black eye,” Tal smiled over at her now-yellowing bruise. “You’re really resilient.”

“I try.”

“Bull is in love with you.”

“He’s not…I’m going to continue to choose to ignore that, just like I’ve been doing for the past ten years.” She reached down and tugged her shoes off. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tal said, chuckling as he pulled his jeans up to his knees and stretched his legs out in front of him, splashing in the shallow water. “Can I look at your books when we’re back in Campbell?”

“It’s not like anyone would ever take me to task on my spending. Why?”

“I want to see how you make your accounting work, if you have kids that need welfare. What percentage of people actually collect. Do you have a plan for maternity leave?”

“Seventy per cent of your last year’s earnings, for up to a year,” Lucy smiled over at him. “We haven’t had large scale applicants yet, but I think we will in the next few years, now that people actually seem to want to have kids. Our reserve can handle a lot though, and I think we can probably increase taxes a couple of points without people getting too upset.”

Tal thought about that in comparison with West. “What’s your unemployment rate?”

“Thirteen and up, under five per cent. Some don’t work full-time, but since it’s a percentage, it all works out.”

Tal turned so he was facing her. “What about long-term disability?”

“It’s a very small program. We provide some financial support, but most is in the form of food and medical vouchers, which we get at a bulk discount from some of the big producers, so it cuts down on costs.”

“What about people who don’t work?”

Lucy shrugged, her eyes gleaming. “They have to have a pretty fucking good reason or we cut them off.”

“How do you pay administrators like yourself? A salary or a percentage?”

She leaned in. “Salary.”

Tal looked at her thoughtfully. “And that’s okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like we all have a lot of shit we need to buy. I’ve got a house.”

“That’s true.”

“I’ll show you my books, Tal Bauman,” Lucy said, flirtatiously. “But I want to see yours too.”

Tal blinked at her, taken aback by the unexpected way she was looking at him. “I didn’t realize you were….”

“Kidding,” she chuckled, her expression changing. “I love talking numbers because mine are so good. I so rarely get to show them off.”

“I feel like that’s crying out for a joke about your assets,” Tal raised an eyebrow. “Just because you started it.”

Lucy’s face turned serious and Tal wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m being an idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not being realistic. It’s not realistic, what’s happening here.” She nodded between them, her forehead creased with concern. “It’s probably a form of rebellion against my life, which speaks to far deeper issues. I think I like that you’re so wonderfully ordinary, and that you had a nice family, and—”

“Okay,” he said, leaning back away from her to give himself a little space, as he tried to understand what she was getting at, while desperate to avoid her rejection, if only for a little longer. “What happens in the Midwest—”

“Stays in the Midwest. Right.” Lucy nodded, taking a deep breath. “We’ll work together, and we’ll make things better together. For everyone.”

“Except us,” Tal muttered, exhaling a breath he’d been holding. “Are we really going to drive back to Campbell in a pickup truck?”

Lucy grinned and nodded. “I guess so.”

“You’re taking middle. Bull said it’s a stick shift.”

“Great. There’s no irony in that,” she cracked, rising to her feet and moving to add to the space between them. “He wants to stay tonight and leave in the morning.”

“So I guess I’m sleeping in the bush?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucy chirped, pulling on her shoes. “We’ll all be fine in the tent.”

***

Later that night, after a lengthy war of words over positioning, Lucy found herself curled up between the only two men in her life that had interested her, and she found herself wondering where the hell her head was. Cole was still gone, somewhere out there likely being hurt and tortured, and selfishly, she’d let her emotions take over and allowed herself to be drawn back into an internal debate she’d long put to rest. It had been a long time since she’d quite happily slapped a label on herself, and it had served her well in a lot of ways.
 

She knew she’d see Zoey in the next couple of days and she blinked back tears as she stared into the darkness, hoping she’d know what to do when she saw her, when they had a few minutes to talk. She liked women. It wasn’t just Zoey. She wasn’t the first. She probably wouldn’t be the last.

No matter how many time she repeated it in her head, tried to convinced herself, she knew there was more to it, and it was overwhelming to imagine all the changes what she was contemplating could bring.
 

“Why are you crying?” Bull whispered, rolling over towards her. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just been a rough month, that’s all.” She reached for his face in the dark and brushed his familiar rough cheek and his strong jaw, trying to recall the exact moment when she’d decided it wasn’t for her. “Thanks for coming for me.”