“No reason,” he said, backing the car up and turning in the direction of the main house. He gave a little honk, then disappeared down the road, leaving stillness and darkness behind him. I looked up at the house and saw that Roger’s light was back off.
I walked inside, unable to keep a smile off my face. Lucien liked me. He wanted to kiss me. After Michael, and so much time alone, and so much time not connecting, I’d thought that it might never happen again. But it had.
As I headed into my room, I saw my cell lying on top of the perfectly made bed. I picked it up, thinking about Lucien’s mother drying out in some rehab, not wanting him to damage her grass with his creations. My mother had come to see all my shows, until this last one. She’d always brought me flowers. And though it had embarrassed me at the time, I could always hear her cheers, separate from anyone else’s, when we took our curtain call.
I called her cell, pressing in the code to send a message directly. “Hi, Mom,” I said, after the beep. “I, um, just wanted to say hi. We’re in Kentucky. And I’m okay. So you don’t need to worry.” I hung up and looked down at the screen. I had been trying not to think about this, but she probably was worried. So maybe that had helped a little. I went to bed feeling like a small weight had been lifted.
In the morning, when I went downstairs to see if Roger was awake and, if so, whether he had made coffee, I saw something on the front porch and went out to investigate. And there it was, sitting on the top step—a very small topiary owl. I picked it up and looked at it closely. It was amazing. There were ridges over its nose and around its eyes, and I realized after a moment that it was wearing a pair of glasses.
FROM: Charlie Curry (
[email protected])
TO: Amy Curry (
[email protected])
SUBJECT: hey
DATE: June 10
TIME: 4:45 p.m.
hey—
just wanted to say hi & make sure you’re okay. i wrote and asked mom & she said that she didn’t want to talk about it, but that you were “greatly disappointing her.”
it doesn’t sound like you, but well done!
anyway, hope you’re good.
charlie
FROM: Me (
[email protected])
TO: Charlie Curry (
[email protected])
SUBJECT: Re: hey
DATE: June 10
TIME: 11:45 p.m.
Hey—nice to hear from you.
I hope you’re doing well and that things are going okay with you.
I’m in Kentucky right now. (It’s a long story.) Let’s just say that Mom is furious with me, but the feeling is mutual. I’ll have to tell you all about it someday. I kind of wish you had phones there, actually. I think it’s an in-person story.
Talk to you soon, hopefully.
—Amy
She met a boy up in Kentucky.
—Steve Earle
“She’s home,” Lucien told us. He had arrived at the guesthouse shortly after I’d found the owl. Roger had emerged just as Lucien came in, and now poured himself a glass of water in silence.
“Just now?” I asked.
“Just now,” he said, crossing into the kitchen and taking a banana out of the fruit basket he’d brought with him that morning. “She’s probably going to bring the horse trailer around to the stables, get them settled in, and then go back to the main house.” By this point, I shouldn’t have been surprised that they had stables, but I was. “So here’s what I think,” he continued to Roger. “Why don’t Amy and I make ourselves scarce, and you can drive around to the house, and that way Had won’t have to know that you two stayed here last night?”
Roger just shrugged. “I don’t care if she knows,” he said a little sharply. “I’m not going to lie about it.”
“Okay,” I said, looking at him and trying to gauge what he was feeling. I’d woken up early, checked my e-mail, and done some research on Charlie’s facility. I hadn’t opened Julia’s e-mail, but I had looked at the subject line for a long moment before shutting the guesthouse laptop down. Roger had been holed up in his room that morning, and I hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him about the night before. He seemed to be preoccupied—which was understandable, considering that he was about to see Hadley. “But it’s probably best that I’m not in the car with you, right?”
Roger looked at me for a moment, then nodded. “Right.” Maybe picking up on Roger’s tense vibe, Lucien left to load the bags into the car. When the door slammed shut behind him, I turned to Roger, trying to figure out what was going on with him.
“You feeling okay about this?” I asked.
“Fine,” he said, a little shortly. He glanced outside, then asked without looking at me, “Where did that owl come from?”
“Oh,” I said, smiling at it. “Lucien made it. Isn’t it cute?”
“Yeah,” he said hollowly. “Cute.”
“Are you okay?” I asked. I hadn’t ever seen him this withdrawn and couldn’t put my finger on what exactly was wrong.
“Fine,” he said again. “I’m fine.” He took a breath and looked at me. “Are you—,” he started, as Lucien came back in.
“Bags in the car,” he said. “All set?”
“Yep,” said Roger, causing me to smile. I took a last look back at the guesthouse, and we headed out to the cars. I placed the owl carefully in the backseat, and Roger glanced back at it, shook his head, and got in the driver’s side.
“Okay,” I said. “So I guess just call when you’re …” I wasn’t sure how to end this sentence. “When you want me to come meet you,” I finished. I pressed my lips together and looked at Roger in the car, my spot beside him empty. I was trying not to think about it, but I knew that our trip as we’d been taking it might well be over in a few minutes. Hadley had been his objective this whole time. And now that he’d reached it, what did that mean? If he and Hadley got back together—a thought that made my stomach clench a little bit—I had a feeling he wouldn’t be continuing this trip with me.
“Right,” he said.
“Amy, you want to drive again?” Lucien called to me from where he was standing by the Jeep.
Roger looked up at me, startled. “What?” he asked, staring at me. “When did you—”
“I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet,” I said, feeling like there was a lot to catch up on, and wishing that we could do it without Lucien there, and without the audience with Hadley looming. “But yeah, last night. I drove the Jeep for about a minute.”
“Until she decapitated a moose,” Lucien called.
“It was just shrubbery,” I said by way of explanation, wishing that I could have told Roger myself.
“Wow,” he said, still looking at me. “That’s … that’s great. Good for you.”
“Thanks,” I said. Silence fell, and it seemed like there was something off, or a little bit strained, between us.
“Well, I should go,” Roger said, starting the engine. “I’ll give you a call.”
“Good luck,” I said, then immediately worried that that wasn’t the right thing to say. “I mean, I hope it goes well. I mean …” My voice trailed off as he continued to stare straight ahead, and I realized I had no idea what I was really trying to say anyway.
“Right,” he said. Then he backed the car out of the guesthouse driveway, heading off to Hadley.
Lucien ended up driving, and we headed around the back of the property and up a hill that seemed to be the highest point on the grounds—the main house was below us, and around the back of it, I could have sworn I saw tennis courts. We were right above the stables, and I could see, in addition to the main building, several different rings, with jumps set up, and what I assumed was an indoor ring in a huge, circular building.
“Wow,” I said, taking it all in. It was warm out already, with the promise that it would be really hot around noon. But right now, it just felt good. I breathed in the scent of sweet grass, looked over the expanse of green all around me, and wondered just how I’d gotten there. “What is that??
?? I asked, pointing to a building near to what looked like a pond. It was so far off in the distance I wasn’t even sure if it was still part of the Armstrong estate.
“That’s the hunting camp,” Lucien said, looking to where I was pointing. He sighed. “My father’s favorite thing to do. He can’t understand why I want to make fake ducks when we can just shoot the real thing.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling how clearly we were no longer in California. I’d never met anyone who hunted before.
“Yeah,” he said. “He’s planned this whole trip for him and me this November, in Canada. Which is probably going to be right in the middle of midterms. I’m trying to get out of it.”
I turned to say something to him just as I saw the Liberty pull up in front of the main building. Roger got out and slammed the door behind him, shutting his phone. He looked around, ran his hands through his hair, and then, as though it was an afterthought, smoothed it down the way I’d done for him the day before.
I looked at Lucien, then slid down a little in the seat, which was completely futile, since I was still totally exposed. But it still made me feel a little less like I was spying on someone. “Why is he here?” I asked, just as I got my answer.
The door to the main building opened and out walked the prettiest girl I’d ever seen in my life. Even though we were a ways away, she seemed to have that aura. The one you could sense from celebrities when you saw them in person. In Los Angeles, this happened with some regularity—normally nothing more than a quick glance before you were hustled out of the way by a pack of paparazzi. But a glance was usually long enough to show you that specialness, that glow that the truly beautiful seemed to have. This girl had it. In spades. “Hadley?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Hadley,” Lucien confirmed.
The picture Bronwyn had shown me hadn’t done her justice. She was tall and lanky, and had the kind of perfect features that made you wonder why some modeling scout hadn’t discovered her years before. She was wearing jeans and a polo shirt, but it might as well have been couture, the way she was wearing them. As I saw her, and saw Roger looking at her, I understood why we’d come all this way. I understood why he’d be willing to put up with me, a stupid high schooler, just for a chance to see her again. I watched as he walked up to her, the same feeling in my stomach as whenever I watched a horror movie. I didn’t want to look, but at the same time, I knew I wouldn’t be able to look away. I thought for a moment that they were going to hug, but then he took a step back and just raised a hand in a wave.
“What do you think is going to happen?” I whispered to Lucien. He smiled and rolled his eyes.
“Amy, we’re about thirty feet away. I don’t think they can hear us.”
“I know,” I said. “But still.” I watched them talking, Roger with his hands in his pockets, nodding to the car. Hadley nodded, then motioned to her left, and the two of them walked around the stable building and out of sight. “Damn,” I murmured.
“You know,” said Lucien. “Depending on what goes on over there”—he gestured in the direction they had gone—“you guys are welcome to stay on for few days if you want. It’s been great having you around.”
I looked over at him. “That’s really nice of you,” I said. “But you’ve already done way too much. And I think I need to get back on the road.”
He nodded, as though he’d been expecting this response. “Where y’all headed next?”
“We haven’t talked about it,” I said. “But …” I thought about the trip my father had wanted to take with me and Charlie, and how right now I was just a few hours from Memphis. But now I didn’t know what the status of this trip was. For all I knew, it could be ending, right at this moment. I stopped and sat up a little straighter when I saw Hadley stalking out from where she and Roger had disappeared. She didn’t look happy; her mouth was twisted and her posture seemed stiffer. She didn’t look quite so pretty anymore. Roger followed a moment later. He was walking more slowly and had his head down; it was hard to read his expression. Hadley walked through the stable door and slammed it with such force that even thirty or so feet away, I flinched. “Well,” I said.
“Yeah,” Lucien agreed.
I watched as Roger leaned against the Liberty, still looking down at the ground. “So I guess I’d better be going,” I said to Lucien.
“I guess so,” he agreed. “Want me to drive you over there?”
“It’s okay,” I said, getting out of the car. “It’s just down the hill. I’ll walk.” Lucien got out of the driver’s side and met me in front of the hood. “I know this is none of my business,” I said, the words coming a little haltingly. “But you should go on that trip with your father.”
He blinked, like this wasn’t what he had expected me to say. “The thing is—,” he started.
I shook my head, interrupting him. “Just do it,” I said. “It’ll make him happy. And because at some point, you might … might not be able to.” Lucien nodded, his expression more serious, and I knew he understood what I was saying. I looked at his face for another moment, making sure I’d remember it and realizing that I was going to miss this person I hadn’t even known this time yesterday. “Thank you for everything.”
“It was fun,” he said a little wistfully. He looked down at me and smiled. “You’re great. You know that, right?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I just let out a little embarrassed laugh. “And you should keep making the animals,” I said. “Really. I’ll be mad if you don’t.”
“Well, we don’t want that,” Lucien said. And then, before I even had a chance to register that it was going to happen, he leaned down and kissed me.
It was quick; I only just had time to respond before he broke away and walked back to the driver’s side. “Stay in touch,” he called to me, and thinking of the fact that I’d put his cell number into my phone when he wrote it on the whiteboard, I nodded and waved as he started the car and backed it onto the main road. Possibly on his way to make something. Maybe another owl. But more likely, a replacement moose. I watched until there was only the dust the Jeep had left behind, then turned and headed down the hill, doing that stumble-run that was inevitable when trying to maneuver down steep hills.
Roger looked up as I jogged down the last part of the hill. “Where did you come from?”
I gestured to the top of the hill. “We were just looking around when we saw you….”
“Oh,” Roger said. “Yeah.” I looked at him, trying to see if I could register what the outcome of the conversation was, but his face was oddly blank. “Well,” he said after a moment, “ready to go?”
“I am,” I said. “Are you okay?”
Roger nodded. “You know,” he said, giving me the first smile of that morning, “I think I am.” I walked around to my side of the car, and just as I tried to open the door, I heard the beep of the doors being locked with the clicker. Sure enough, I couldn’t open the door.
“Roger,” I said. “Come on.”
“What?” he said, smiling at me across the hood. “Are you sure you don’t want to drive?” The emphasis he put on the last word let me know that he hadn’t forgotten what Lucien had said. And that I’d been right in thinking he wasn’t thrilled about it.
“No,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Let me in.”
“Okay,” he said, clicking the lock open and then clicking it closed again just as I lunged for the handle.
“Stop it!”
“What? Just because you’re not fast enough—” The stable door rolled open again, and Hadley stood there, looking at us. Judging from her expression, she had not been expecting to see me.
“Oh,” she said, looking from me to Roger.
“We were just going,” Roger said, beeping the car unlocked once again. I had a feeling it would stay open this time.
“Is this her?” Hadley asked, looking at me. I blinked at her, stunned. She and Roger had discussed me?
“Hello,” I said, not sure wha
t the proper response to that question was. Yes? “I’m Amy—”
“You’re bothering the horses,” she said, interrupting me. “If you could just …”
“We’re leaving,” Roger said quietly.
“Yes, well,” she said, but didn’t seem to have anything to follow this. She gave me a long look, and I looked right back at her, glad once again for Bronwyn’s clothes and trying to remember to stand up straight. Then she turned sharply and headed back into the stable, the door rolling shut with a bang.
I got into the car quickly. Roger got in as well, and we buckled our seat belts in unison. “What happened?” I asked. “What did you say?”
Roger put the key in the ignition and looked over at me. “I told her good-bye,” he said. Then he started the car and put it in gear, and we headed out.
6
Life Savers
We both will be received in Graceland.
—Paul Simon
“But I thought you didn’t like Elvis,” Roger said as we drove down Interstate 65, backtracking, heading to Tennessee. It wasn’t too hot out yet, and we had all four windows down, the breeze tossing my ponytail and hopefully not pulling too much of my hair out.
“I love Elvis,” I said, thinking of all the lyrics that had just always been a part of my life, all the songs I’d known without even remembering learning them. I suddenly realized these few months were probably the longest I’d ever gone without listening to him.
“But you didn’t want to hear him,” Roger said, his brow furrowing as he glanced in his mirror and switched to the left-hand lane. “I remember. You put a moratorium on all things Elvis.”
“My father,” I said, taking a breath before I could get myself to say those words. It hit me that because it hurt so much to talk about him, I’d stopped talking about him altogether. Which suddenly seemed like the worst kind of betrayal. I had just been trying not to remember what had happened. But that didn’t mean that I had wanted to forget him. “He loved Elvis.”