After we had baked enough under the blaring sun, we found a shady spot and sat down and drank from our water bottles. I blurted out everything that had happened since the wreck.
“You know Jodie will come around.”
“You think?”
“I know she will. It’s Russ you have to worry about. Do you have any leverage with him?”
“No, he kinda hates me right now. I did almost kill his daughter.” I picked up a blade of grass and toyed with it.
“No, a stupid deer almost killed his baby girl, you, and two of your friends.”
“I don’t think he sees it like that.”
“Yeah, well, he can suck it. Okay. Maybe you can, I don’t know, talk to the guy.”
“He wanted to smash my head in. The cop actually put me in his car to protect me.”
“Hmm. Well, I guess maybe waiting is the best thing. He needs time to cool off.”
“This is a great way to start off a relationship, with half the town thinking I’m an alcoholic and Jodie’s dad wanting to kill me. You know, with Ton-Ton, I didn’t even know she had parents until I lived with her for two months.”
“Yeah, but that had its own problems.”
“I know, but … I don’t know. I just want to stop feeling like a criminal.”
“Then, pick up your chin, sweetheart, and get back to work.”
“Who the hell are you?” I shoved her arm.
“Now you’re getting it. Fight the power.”
“Liv, remind me to kick your ass next time I see you. I’m too hot to do it right now.”
“That’s it, baby. Use your anger towards me to drive you. By the way, you’re welcome.”
“Oh, no. You can’t mom guilt me. I already have a mom, even if she does have a new family.”
“No more pity party. Let’s go get some wine.”
“Nope, I’m off the stuff - just kidding.”
We ended up going to a juice bar, though. If Jodie and I ever go out again, I might take her there. Their mango drink is amazing.
Anyway, here it is Friday and still no call from Jodie. How long should I wait?
June 22, 2013
Well, I got my answer from Jodie. The answer is longer. She needs more time. Russ threw his back out, and she has been doing his work around their property and fielding calls for his business in addition to working at the library. I offered to help her, but she shook that off right away and gave me a feeble ‘if I think of anything’. Whether it was her intention or not, it made me feel like she’s done with me. I don’t know what else to do.
June 23, 2013
At least it’s been nice outside. I’ve been reading and napping between chores. I am almost through Dune by Frank Herbert. I always meant to read it in high school but never did. I’ve seen the movie and the comic book. With all the droughts going on in our country and across the planet, the storyline seems entirely plausible, giant sandworms notwithstanding.
It’s so hot that I pace myself like I’m on heroin, and I drink about two gallons of water a day. I move the wheel lines, read, drink water. Feed and water the chickens, read, drink water. Check the garden, read, drink water. On and on. The day is still really long, but I don’t get stuck thinking about Jodie as much. When the sun is just above the trees, I get eggs for the last time and play with the dogs. When it starts getting dark, I go inside and have dinner, then work on IT stuff until I get drowsy. I don’t even look at the clock on my phone most of the time.
I forgot to mention that Saturday I went over to Sheila’s and we walked the horses around. She looks at me like I’m a bird with a broken wing. When is Jodie going to call me?
June 24, 2013
Still no word from Jodie. With Elliot and Frankie still on their trip, all the farm stuff falls on me. Yay!
June 28, 2013
Somehow, despite the thought of facing another day without Jodie (and worse yet, the possibility of an “I need more time” text), I managed to get out of bed this morning. With Elliot gone and Jodie and me being in the dump, I didn’t really see the point. But about 11 a.m. Frodo started whining and running to the door and back. I didn’t want to clean up a mess, so I let him out. It already felt like a hundred degrees outside and Dad’s little air conditioner was grunting like The Little Engine That Could, so I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. I looked across the driveway and saw the chickens in the meat bird pen. I might as well call it the kill pen. I slipped on my Crocs and walked over to them, Frodo at my side. The awkward little birds at first ran away from the gate, and then peeked around the brooder troughs, probably looking for food.
“You bastards eat all your food already? Don’t you know you’re eating just so you can be eaten?”
They stared blankly back at me. Frodo snorted, as if he couldn’t believe how stupid these birds were.
“You’re right, Frodo. They’re stupid. Almost
