Kyland was standing behind the guy, his jaw hard and set, his hands fisted at his sides.
"Whoa, man," the guy slurred, turning his hefty body in his seat, "no harm meant. I was just saying hi to the lady." His eyes ran down my body again.
"Say hi to ladies with your mouth, not your hands."
My head whipped from Kyland to the drunken guy. Now I was a lady? Earlier today he was telling me he couldn't live in the same town as me.
"I'd like to do that, too." He wiggled his tongue and let out a sharp bark of laughter.
Kyland's fist was a blur as it flew past me, straight into the guy's face. He let out a grunt, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he toppled over, out cold on the bar floor. A loud whoop went up among the bar patrons. This was not an unusual occurrence at Al's. Still, my mouth fell open. I stared at the guy on the floor for a second and then looked back up at Kyland.
And suddenly I was angry. Maybe it was the liquor flowing through my veins, maybe it was the fact that Kyland thought he could mess with my emotions, or that anything that happened to me was any of his damn business. Maybe it was the fact that he'd shown up on my territory twice this week and it'd hurt me deeply both times. Suddenly, I was furious.
"How dare you?" I seethed.
He narrowed his eyes. "How dare I pull a lecherous pig off you?" he asked. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were enjoying being manhandled. Then again, you are back here in this goddamned town working at the same goddamned bar." His nostrils flared and I almost wondered if he might paw the ground like an angry bull.
My eyes widened. "Maybe I was enjoying it. And either way, it's none of your business what I like or don't like." I was so angry I was shaking. I grabbed a guy walking by and pulled on his sweater roughly. He stumbled toward me, looking surprised. I planted my lips on his. He tasted like beer and smelled like cheap aftershave. I pushed him away and the guy went stumbling off, muttering, "Wow. I really like this bar."
I looked back at Kyland's face, his expression frozen in something I wasn't sure I could read.
"Tenleigh?" I heard Marlo's voice and saw her in my peripheral vision. I put my hand up, letting her know I was okay. My eyes stayed on Kyland.
"I do what I want, when I want," I said. What was I even doing? I wasn't totally clear. I just knew I was angry and out of control. And I knew it still hurt down to my soul that Kyland had betrayed me after I'd given him every last piece of myself—the pieces of myself it was becoming very clear I'd never figured out how to reassemble.
"Is that what you did in California?" he asked, moving closer to me.
I lifted my chin, literally turning my nose up at him. "All the time. As often as possible. Once you broke the seal, I figured—"
The look of raw pain that crossed his face stunned me and my words died on my lips. But just as quickly my anger flared again. He was upset I'd been with other men? Of all the hypocritical bastards! He was here, with her, the woman he had cheated on me with—the woman he'd made a baby with.
"That's not you, Tenleigh," he said softly.
I laughed in his face, an ugly, bitter sound. "You don't know me anymore. You know nothing about me. And I don't know anything about you anymore either."
He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it as if he'd changed his mind. "Christ, I can't do this with you." He turned and started walking away.
Fury flashed through my body.
"Hey, Kyland," I yelled. He turned back around. "Did you ever finish Wuthering Heights?" He blinked, and then furrowed his brows, regarding me with confusion.
"I don't have much time for reading these days, Tenleigh."
I leaned my hip against the bar and tapped my finger against my chin. "I was just wondering if you found Heathcliff the despicable, cheating bastard that I did?"
He started walking back toward me. "We never did agree on much in the literary world, did we?"
"Hmm, true. Still, I would think anyone with half a brain in his head would see what a worthless piece of lying trash Heathcliff was."
"I was more struck by what a dim-witted moron Cathy was . . . finally getting away from those . . . moors and then fucking coming back to experience more misery? Squandering the chance she was given? Doesn't get much more idiotic than that."
My eyes widened, my blood boiled under my skin.
"So what if Cathy came back for the moors—dark and foggy though they might be? At least she didn't come back for Heathcliff. Clearly Heathcliff was the very last thing on her mind. In fact, I found it extremely annoying how . . . Heathcliff kept showing up everywhere Cathy was."
I barely heard someone behind me at the bar say, "Are they fighting or having a book club?"
And a different person answered, "I'm unclear. Looks like foreplay to me."
We both ignored them.
Kyland looked me up and down. "You so sure about that? Maybe . . ." and he looked momentarily unsure rather than just angry, "maybe Heathcliff had been on her mind all the time she was away. Maybe Cathy wouldn't have gotten so angry every time Heathcliff showed up if he wasn't still very much on her mind, if her new boyfriend made her feel the same things Heathcliff could." His voice softened. "And maybe she'd been on Heathcliff's mind, too. Maybe she was all Heathcliff ever thought of, all he ever dreamed about."
Boyfriend? What boyfriend? I narrowed my eyes. "Well, it wouldn't matter. After the way Heathcliff betrayed her, she'd never give him a chance again. He ruined everything. He ruined her. He was the most selfish, disgusting character I've ever read about. I'm just sorry any paper was ever used to bring him to life. What a waste of a good tree."
Hurt flashed in his eyes and he opened his mouth to say something when he suddenly looked behind him. As he turned I saw Shelly tapping him on the back. All the fight went out of me and pain squeezed my chest. I had forgotten she was even here for a minute. And whatever battle we had just been engaged in, with that one tap on his shoulder, he'd won. I'd lost. Again. When he turned back to me, defeat must have been written on my face because he opened his mouth to say something, but then paused, his eyes widening. I looked away. In that one moment I realized what I'd always known. I couldn't hate Kyland. He wasn't a bad person. He'd just been bad to me. He wasn't incapable of love. He just had been incapable of loving me, unwilling to stay for me. But, he'd stayed for Shelly. And that was the most painful part of it all. The grief that battered my heart in that moment almost caused me to fall to my knees.
Not now. Not now—don't fall apart here.
I walked quickly to the ladies room where I locked myself in a stall. Marlo followed me in a few minutes later and helped me gather myself together the best I could. When I returned to the bar, Kyland and Shelly were gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Tenleigh
I worked a couple shifts at Al's that weekend, but Kyland didn't come back in. Thankfully. I was still embarrassed about the public argument, but I knew that, at Al's, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence. In fact, Gable Clancy's mail-order bride trying to run him over in the parking lot two hours later upstaged it. No, mostly, I was just hurt. The anger I'd held onto felt so much better. It made me feel in control. The hurt just hurt. But it was either feel it or turn tail and run out of town. I would see the completion of the school—it was my dream and my legacy to the town I'd been born and raised in—the town that had given me the means to get an education. But after that, I'd consider hiring someone else to ensure the upkeep of the yearly funding and then going somewhere else—starting fresh. Perhaps this was the closure I needed so I could truly move on from Kyland. Had I been lying to myself? Had part of me desperately wanted to know what would happen if I saw him again? Yes, probably. I hadn't really let go. And that was a problem. But it was better to be honest about it. It had been confirmed—he was really and truly with the woman he'd cheated on me with. He had a son with her. That was reality. And it was for the best that I face it.
You've seen it with your own two eyes now, Tenleigh. Can you final
ly accept it and truly move on? Well you better, because you have no other choice.
That Monday, Marlo and I had plans to visit Mama. I was ready early and decided to go say hello to Buster. I hadn't seen him since I'd returned. I knocked on his door and when he opened it, he let out a whoop and took me in a bear hug, lifting me off my feet. I laughed out loud. "Hi, Buster! Good to see you, too."
He put me down. "Well, let me look at you, Tenleigh girl." He shook his head, smiling. "Well, damn if you don't look like a city girl. You a city girl now, Miss Tenleigh?" He opened his door and I walked inside. Buster's house was filled with handmade wood furniture, every square inch of surface held a whittled couple engaging in various explicit sexual acts. If I hadn't known Buster all my life, this house would have made me seriously uncomfortable.
"Me a city girl? You know better than that, Buster. I'm hill folk through and through."
He chuckled. "Well okay, just makin' sure. You sure do look fancy."
I smiled as I sat down on a chair that was the carved, sanded, urethane-d face of an upside-down naked man. Another woman was carved behind him, her mouth full with his private parts. I created the à trois in the ménage. This was the most action I'd gotten in quite some time. Lucky me.
"Tell me what you've been doing all this time? How'd you like college?" Buster asked.
I told Buster about the school I'd gone to, about California, a little about what it'd been like to be away, the few friends I'd met and would keep in touch with, and about the school I was building. After I'd finished with a brief summary, I said, "What about you, Buster, how have you been?"
"Good, better than ever. You know about the business us hill folk have, right?"
"Business?" I frowned and tilted my head.
"Sure. We're regular entrepreneurs up here. Some of the folks even take a real pride in it. Got their yards cleaned up—"
"Yes," I said. "I noticed that. What exactly is it you're doing?"
"Growing lavender. We have a few products, too. We go to the craft fairs in the area. I even sell my figures. They go over real well." He winked.
Lavender. Lavender?
In my mind a crescent moon hung suspended above me as a beautiful boy worshipped my body, the fragrant scent of lavender in the air.
I snapped back to reality. "I bet they do," I said distractedly. "This lavender business . . . whose idea was that?"
"Oh, Kyland Barrett's. He looked into it. Found out lavender's one of the most profitable cash crops for individual growers—even just a backyard garden. Made an information pamphlet up and everything. Plus, it's the only flower that you can dry and use for other products. We've been making sachets, soaps, oil, the tea you used to give—"
"So you all are making real money from this?" I asked, shocked. I had never even considered something like that . . .
"Sure are," he said with pride. "Unlike other crops, the profits are year round. Nothing ever goes to waste. It's pretty simple really."
"Well, you sound very knowledgeable, Buster," I said and he nodded, smiling again.
I sat silently shaking my head for a second. "So, why isn't everyone doing it?" I asked, thinking of the homes I'd seen that were just as trashed as ever.
Buster scratched the thin hair at the top of his head. "Ah, well, you know, you can lead a hillbilly to lavender, but you can't make him grow it." He laughed and slapped his knee.
I let out a small, wondering laugh as well. "Well, I'll be," I said. A knock at Buster's door startled me. It was Marlo. I said a quick goodbye to Buster and told him I'd be back before too long. We hugged goodbye and I got in my car with Marlo.
"Mar, did you know about the whole lavender thing?"
She glanced at me. "Yeah. It's really pretty cool. I was gonna tell you. You just seemed really torn up about Kyland. I didn't think you necessarily needed to hear about all that your first week back."
I nodded. "It's actually . . . cool though, right? I mean, those people are making money from something that didn't require any kind of start up . . ." I bit my lip. "I wonder why he's not doing it himself."
"Yeah, I don't know."
What's going on with you, Kyland? Although, it shouldn't surprise me. He was always entrepreneurial and industrious. Just look at how he had survived on his own for all those years.
We were almost to his house and this time, I turned my head, taking in the white pickup truck parked out front. I startled slightly as his door suddenly opened and Kyland stepped out wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, a baseball cap on his head, and held a metal lunch box in his hand. I turned my head, leaning forward as we passed by and he halted, our eyes met and tangled, even from the distance of my moving car. His head turned to follow. I caught the bumper sticker on his truck, the image of a coal miner wearing a miner's hat, crawling through a dark tunnel with the message, "Friends in low places."
I sat back as we passed, trembling slightly, taking a deep, calming breath. There was so much I didn't understand, so much that still hurt me.
Why are you so very angry with me, Kyland? How could you go from loving me to hating me so fiercely?
"What was that intense stare-fest?" Marlo asked, surprise in her expression when I glanced over at her.
"I have no idea," I answered distractedly. "No idea at all."
**********
A couple hours later, when we pulled up in front of the hospital, I turned the car off and just sat staring out the front window. "Wow," I finally said.
The large brick building was old, but beautifully maintained. It was surrounded by lush lawns and landscaped to perfection. Patients strolled, some with nurses and some without, and others sat on benches that were placed on the edges of flowerbeds. Everything was shaded by ancient buckeye trees.
"I know," Marlo agreed. "It's a really nice place. And they have the best doctors, too—doctors who have made helping people with mental illness their life's work."
"How does Sam afford this?" I asked as I got out of the car.
"He has savings. I've never asked him how much this is setting him back." She glanced at me as we started walking. "I was going to tell him to stop, but then I saw Mama after just a couple weeks here, and I just couldn't do that to her."
I grabbed Marlo's hand and squeezed it.
A few minutes later, we had signed in with the nurse at the front desk and were sitting in the large waiting room.
When our mama walked around the corner, I almost didn't recognize her. Her hair was cut to her shoulders and had obviously been washed and styled and her expression was bright and excited. She was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved cream sweater. She stopped, putting her hands up over her mouth, as I stood, incredulous.
"Tenleigh, my baby," she breathed as she came toward me.
"Mama," I said, my voice hitching. "You look incredible."
She squeezed me to her and I breathed in her clean, comforting scent.
"Oh, Mama," I said as I pulled away. I ran my hand over her hair and just drank her in. She laughed softly and then looked over to Marlo and grinned.
"My other baby," she said hugging Marlo.
"Should we walk?" she asked, gesturing out the window.
We all went outside and started strolling on a sunlit path. A light breeze blew and the scent of freshly mowed grass wafted in the air. Marlo led us toward a bench under a tree and Mama and I sat down.
"I'm gonna go get us some bottled waters. Do you want anything else?"
We both said no and Marlo left us where we were sitting. I knew she was giving us some time alone together.
I took my mama's hands and squeezed them. "How are you?" I asked.
"I'm so good, baby. I have my good and bad days, but I think everyone does. I'm learning a new normal—I'm learning how to understand my own emotions and how to deal with them."
"That's good, Mama."
She laughed softly. "Yes, it is good. The doctors here tried me on a few medications and the ones they have me on now seem to be the best for
me. I'm in several therapy groups, too, and those seem to be helping more than anything. There are other people here who understand exactly what it's like to have a condition like mine." Her cheeks flushed slightly. "They understand the guilt of hurting everyone around you, even though it's the last thing you want to do."
I squeezed her hands again and then wiped a tear running down her cheek with my thumb. "You don't have to feel guilty. Not with me, not with Marlo," I said.
She nodded, but her expression was sad. "I do, though. You needed a mama, and all your lives, you and Marlo had to mother me. And I embarrassed you so badly . . ." Another tear ran down her cheek.
"I know you didn't mean to, Mama. I know that. There's nothing to be sorry for."
She took a deep breath and looked up at me. "I have a mental illness, Ten. And that, well, that's not going to change. But there are ways I can cope, things I can do, triggers I can avoid. I know that now. And I feel stronger. For the first time in my whole life, I feel like I have control over the monsters in my head. For the first time in my life, I have hope."
I sniffled and smiled at her. "Me too, Mama." I leaned forward and hugged her again.
When I sat back up, I asked, "Are you afraid to come home, Mama?"
"A little. I mean, look at this place." She swept her arm around and laughed softly. "It's kind of been a luxury vacation." She smiled, but then sobered. "But, I will need to get back to real life eventually, and that's one of the things I work on here with my therapists. When I come back, I'm going to get a job, do something . . . Sam has offered me a position in his front office and that sounds good . . ." She took a deep breath. "What I do know, though, baby, is that you can be in the most luxurious place on earth or you can be in a trailer on a mountain and if you're sick, you're sick."
"Our situation didn't make it any easier on you, Mama. I know that. So does Marlo. And now I'm home, and I'm going to have a well-paying job. I'm going to rent us a little house somewhere . . . we might not have a whole lot, but we'll have what we need. We'll live a comfortable life, okay?"