“Nope.”
“So you didn’t fall in love with a guy?”
“Oh sure. But he was so pretty, I forgot to ask him a bunch of important variables, so I can’t factor him into my life just now,” I mutter, laughing to myself lest I cry, because I amlivingthe most complex equation right now.
“Wasthata joke?”
“I’m the only one laughing, so that’s your first clue,” I mumble and stare out the window. My dating life is definitely a joke at this point.
“Oh,” he says with a nod and a polite chuckle. “Good one.”
He looks at me several times and glances at Bates in the rearview more than once too. “So… not having a lot of success finding someone to share your secrets with, then?”
He’s phrased the question using the language I’d used when I was twelve, which makes me both pleased that he remembers and… sad that he remembers. At the time, I’d been angry and had accused him of being a bad husband and father, so he’d asked me what kind of guyI’dwant to marry.
Going by my younger standards, I’ve already told Bates some of my secrets, but the probability of a one-night stand with my dad’s best friend leading to marriage and living happily ever after is pretty fucking slim.
“I did meet a great guy,” I say, wondering what I’m trying to prove by sharing that. “We had a nice time together, and I even think he actually liked me.”
“But?” Dad asks when I lower my head.
“But any chance of a future together looks pretty bleak for us,” I say quietly, hating every damned word.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Goose. Maybe he’ll realize what a catch you are and build a brighter future for you. And if he doesn’t, you’re young and smart and independent, so what does it matter? You’ll find someone else. If that’s what you want.”
“I guess.” That is possibly the sweetest and smartest thing my dad has ever said to me, and I could almost smile.
I check on Bates again. He hasn’t moved.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?”
Dad shrugs. “He seems pretty cut up, and I’m not surprised — given how invested he was in making that relationship work. I never liked the girl, but Kelly always sees the good in people that sometimes others don’t, and he thought he saw something worthwhile in her. The kids they talked about having, probably. All he’s ever wanted was a family of his own, and now…” Dad shakes his head. “I can’t imagine what him losing a…”
He shakes his head again and puffs out his breath like a train. “I need to talk to him. He’s really rattled, and he’ll need some time to come to terms with shit… Might be best if he doesn’t stay for the season. It’s not like him to rage out like he did. He’s steady, you know? Dependable as fuck. I need to talk to him,” he says again. “If he’ll let me.”
“When you do, maybe don’t tell him you hated his woman, and that you want to send him packing so he has no money and no safe place to grieve,” I suggest as I stare out at the darkening skies. “That’d tip me over the edge if I was in his shoes.”
Dad scowls out the windshield. “I wouldn’t do that, Lana. Don’t twist my words.”
Large, hulking bodies of corroding metal loom in the shadows outside as we pass by the graveyard for all the old machines that now have little or no use to my father. Some have been put out to pasture, no longer trusted to remain reliable at some critical moment. Others have been towed to their final resting places after failing on the job and being unable to be resuscitated. Most have been dead for years. They’re carrion now — each season their bodies get picked at for parts to transplant into other dying machines to “Frankenstein” them into new creations so that those things can fend off their eternal rest just a little longer.
The sight of their aging skeletons always gives me a little chill. In my head, as a child, I wondered if maybe I’d be rusting out there one day should I not be of use to my father somehow. I don’t want Bates to have to suffer that fate if my father doesn’t handle this situation with more delicacy than he’s capable of.
The time to drop truth bombs is now.
We’re getting close enough to our destination that I’ll be able to escape the thick, awkward tension I can’t help constantly wedging between us.
The lights of the small settlement beyond the equipment graveyard are now becoming more recognizable as the trailers and prefab housing of Dad’s Gambler’s Creek claim. I’ll have some time to process my crazy day soon, but I still have a minute with Dad as a captive audience, so I might as well use it. Nothing is more efficient than trying to start the repairs on our relationship on day one. Even though it’ll make him sting a little.
“Dad, I’m just letting you know what you might sound like so you’ll choose your words wisely when you talk to him. You’re not always aware of the way your words affect the people you care about, so please try to be more mindful about the impact they have. You can let me out at Martha’s on the way past. Just keep my gear in the back so you can keep driving to wherever you andBates are going to have this talk. And maybe keep a safe distance from the guy when you do. He looks like he could kick your ass.”
My father glares at me, all manner of words wanting to burst forth, but now that I’ve told him I hate the way he talks to me half the time, he holds most of them back. “Kelly,” he corrects me. “He prefers Kelly.”
I shrug and unbuckle my seatbelt. “Maybe coming from you, but he introduced himself to me as Bates, so I’m using it.”
Dad rumbles something at me and pulls to a brief stop in front of Martha’s trailer to let me out before driving onward.
From the bed of the truck, Bates’s haunted eyes remain glued to mine as he’s driven away, and I’m so entranced by his gaze that I just about shit myself when my sister’s filthy arms wrap around me. Forcing my attention her way, I grin as she lifts me from the ground with a scream that sounds oddly like a war-cry.
