Escaping Parker, page 15
We finish up around 8:00pm. The warmth from the oven helps to heat this old house. It’s cold, and it’s a damn miracle it hasn’t started snowing yet. I’ll need to get clothes more apt to handle these arctic Montana winters.
Rig lies on the floor in front of the fireplace, fiddling with the flue.
“Do you need some help?” I giggle.
“No, I almost got it. I bet this hasn’t been opened for years,” he says, straining with the handle.
With a grunt, he finally gets it open, but when he emerges from the dark hole in the wall, his face is black and covered in ash. Laughter pushes against my lips. When he opens his eyes, all I can see are the whites. I can’t hold it in any longer. I fall to the floor, laughing.
“Oh, you think this is funny?” He walks toward me, and I try to compose myself while getting up.
“Very. So I’m assuming you got it open?”
“I did, I did. Come here, give me a kiss.” He comes at me and I backpedal.
“No, you’re all . . . gross. I don’t want to get that on me.” I run away and the chase begins.
Running around the table, I use it as a barrier between us. Grabbing me from behind, he nuzzles his face in my hair and rubs his sooty hands on my face.
“Ugh! Get off.” My screams are combined with laughter.
“You know they say this is good for your skin, gets it all smooth.”
“You must be thinking of something else, or you’re just making that crap up.” I rub my cheeks and withdraw an ashy hand. “God, look at me now, I’m going to have to shower.”
“I can help you with that.” His playful tone becomes instantly seductive, and it’s hard not to jump on that offer.
“I say you get the fire started while I clean up, and I’ll be right back.” I run off to the bathroom.
I clean up with a washcloth, and look in the mirror to make sure I got it all off my face. When I see my reflection staring back at me, I slowly take off this stupid wig that has become an everyday habit to put on. Forgetting about my old hair most of the time, I let it down, noticing how much my hair has grown in the last few months.
Did I just avoid Rig’s offer to help me shower? I can’t believe I did that, but I don’t want it to all be about sex. I like it, but I like him as a person more. I can feel in my bones that he’s going to leave. I hope I get to know him more deep down and can convince him to stay . . . if that’s even possible.
Someone else needs him, maybe more than me, but my heart needs him, too. He’s the reason it beats most days, and I don’t want to feel another loss so soon after I felt it come to life again.
A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.
“You ok in there, Parker?” Rig asks.
“Almost done, I’ll be out in a second.”
“Ok. The fire is started, and it’s pretty big.” His footfalls echo down the hallway.
I tug the wig over my real hair as if someone is going to break into this house and see me, shielding a part of me that Rig will never know. Although it’s just hair and it doesn’t define me, it’s a part of who I really am. It’s another thing I hide, while he hides the hurt and pain he feels inside. Insistent on getting these truths out of him one day, I plaster on a smile, half fake, half real, and head back out to him.
When I turn the corner from the hall, I pause, taking in Rig as he sits on the floor in front of the fireplace, trying to get a better sense of the man inside.
All I do know is when this holiday passes, I’m going to get him to talk, get him to open up and tell me things he hasn’t yet. I’m going to push him the way he has pushed me to become this new person. Things will never be how they are supposed to truly be if he can’t be himself around me.
“Ok, now where were we?” I sit next to him on the floor.
“Are you warm enough? I can get the blanket?” He motions to the yellow and white afghan draped over the couch.
“I’m ok, that’s half the reason I didn’t want to shower. I would’ve been an ice cube coming out of there. I can’t get used to this cold weather—it’s nothing like California. I miss the sun.” I can’t believe I just said that, because I was the biggest complainer when it came summer there.
“Not to worry, it gets pretty warm here in the summer. By spring time, you’ll see. You’ll actually get to experience seasons here. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He moves behind me, putting his legs on each side.
He leans back using the coffee table for support, and pulls me back with him, wrapping his arms around me. With just his touch, all my insecurities melt away, and I’m not sure that’s such a good thing. I’m thinking with my heart when I know I should be using my brain. My heart has gotten me into so much trouble before; it’s a scary thing to go by. For once, I want to be the logical thinker, know when danger is coming, and how to avoid it. Or maybe it’s the fact that I do know how to avoid it in this situation, and I don’t want to admit that.
What he’s hiding is big, because he wouldn’t be hiding it if it wasn’t. I just hope that I’m strong enough to accept it and help him move on and see better days without the weight of his past on his shoulders anymore.
“So, Black Friday shopping, yes or no?” he asks, nuzzling his chin between my neck and shoulder.
“Don’t you feel bad about all those people who have to work and not get to spend the time with their families?”
“Yes and no. Some might have to have that job to keep food on their tables, some depend on that income to pay rent. What if nobody went out and they didn’t get paid? That would be worse.” While I do see his point, I have my own.
“What about the ones who don’t have family and use that job to keep from thinking about how lonely they are? Or the ones who are threatened to be fired if they don’t go in?” I’m turning into a sap.
“If you feel like going after dinner, we’ll go. If not, we’ll hang out here together. No biggie.” He gives me a peck on the cheek.
We continue to silently sit by the fire, just enjoying each other’s company. Sometimes words aren’t needed, especially when there are plenty going through my head, and I’m sure his as well.
We’ve been cooking all day, Rig manning the turkey while I make sure everything else is getting done. The smells make me hungrier than I have been in a long time, and I can’t wait to finally sit down.
I’m excited to eat, and even more excited about the food coma that comes with it. I’ve been feeling like I haven’t been getting a lot of rest lately, but haven’t said anything to Rig. I don’t want him to think I can’t handle going to work all week, along with household duties.
“Everything is just about ready. I’m going to start to bring the food out to the table.” I let Rig know, and he helps bring out the turkey.
We fill our plates, and before he takes a bite I stop him. “I thought it would be nice to maybe say something we are thankful for. I know it’s just us here, so it doesn’t have to be long or anything like that.”
“Sure, why don’t you start?” He gives me the floor.
I take a moment to think about it, so many things going through my mind, so much I’m thankful for.
“Ok, well, I’m thankful for being able to have this meal in a new place, no longer being in fear, for meeting Andrew, and most thankful for having you by my side on this journey. I tried for a long time to get away and wasn’t strong enough on my own. If it wasn’t for you guys, I don’t know if I would even be around to celebrate this holiday, and for that I’m thankful,” I say, feeling all sentimental.
“Well, this isn’t really my thing, but I’m thankful for being able to help people. I’m thankful that I was assigned to your case, and I’m thankful that I get to spend the holiday with you so you don’t have to be alone.” I don’t get the warm and fuzzy vibe from him, but I’ll take it.
“Alright, time to dig in.” I taste my first forkful of the casserole I made.
Remembering the story Rig told me yesterday, I try and eat slowly so all of our hard work won’t be demolished in a matter of minutes.
“How is everything?” Rig asks, shoveling food in his mouth like he hasn’t eaten in days.
“Perfect, looks like you don’t mind it much either.” I motion for him to wipe the corner of his mouth, where there is a collection of sauce.
“So, have you decided if you want to go shopping later?” he asks.
He must be either really bored or needs to get something, because men aren’t really keen on shopping. It’s not like I have to escort him to the places he goes; it’s kinda always been the other way around.
“We can go. I’ll pick something up for the house. Let’s finish up and we can head out once the stores open.” I let him know.
Doing simple things around the house, on such a perfect holiday, feels so life changing. My life is not conventional, to say the least, but right now it’s pretty damn perfect. I love the place we are at.
About two hours later we head out to some local stores. Rig has a determined look on his face, piquing my curiosity even more.
“I need to run into this store. I want to pick up something for my mom so I can send it back to her for the holidays.”
We walk into a small jewelry store, looking in all the display cases. Nothing in here really excites me, so I let Rig have his time while I find a seat off to the side.
Next, we go into a big chain store that has everything from food to clothes. I find a couple things that I could use around the house, nothing like everybody is getting: no TVs or electronics, just some rugs and kitchen items. Seems so simple, but if I had to fight through the crowd just to get something I could get any other day, I would be hauled out of here in handcuffs.
For such a smaller town, I’m surprised by the crowds. Rig follows me around with the shopping cart, while I toss in things. For some unknown reason, I can tell he doesn’t want to be sitting at home right now. He has pushed for this day out, and I’m not going to do anything to ruin it.
He’s tried so hard to make me feel normal again. Even if we are just doing some shopping, it’s something that I haven’t really done. I’m always worried about being spotted, not knowing if people are still looking for me, never knowing if the person next to me recognizes me from the news. But when I’m out with Rig I feel safe, and I almost feel untouchable.
“Do you have everything you need?” he asks as we make our way back to the front of the store.
“I really didn’t need any of this. I just wanted to get out of the house. I’m finished, though, we can head home whenever you want.” I let him know.
“Ok, let’s go pay for all this and head home. We can hang out and watch a movie and get some rest. It’s already almost 1am,” he says and I look at my watch, not knowing how it got so late already.
We finally get home, unload the car, and put all the new stuff away. I don’t bother putting the TV on because I’m drained from cooking all day and then shopping, so I just relax for a bit.
“Did you have fun today?” he asks as I lean against him.
“I did, I got some good stuff. The dinner we made was amazing. I’m just ready for bed.”
“Yeah, me too, but I want to hang out here with you for a bit before we go to bed.
I don’t know why, but I get this feeling he is getting ready to leave. He hasn’t left my side at all. Even though I knew this day was going to come whether I wanted it to or not, I am not ready to be alone. It sort of feels like he is trying to say good-bye, trying to make me happy so the blow won’t hurt as bad, but it won’t make it hurt any less.
I’ve tried to come to terms with it a lot in my head, and make myself realize that he needs to go and help other people. I’m fine with that part, but then the jealous part comes out, knowing he’ll be with another woman. Who knows if she will be like me, or if this person will have kids? Will spending the time with someone else make him forget me and focus on her? It kills me to even think about it, but it’s reality.
I make sure to not let him know about how I feel. Rig doesn’t need to know how scared I am of him leaving, and what I think he is going to do once he leaves. I don’t want him remembering me as a crazy, jealous person.
We lie together not saying anything, Rig running his fingers through my hair. My eyes start to close, and I’m falling sleep fast.
He mumbles, “We are going to get through this. I didn’t know I could ever love again.” He swallows hard. “I wish I didn’t have to leave.”
I want to say something, but I’m too tired. I hear all I need to hear—that he loves me—and it gives me hope that he might stay, after all.
Not wanting him to get all weird about his little confessions, I keep my eyes closed and pretend I’m asleep.
Ever since I started working, I live for Saturdays. They usually consist of Rig and me doing small things around the house, lounging on the couch, and staying hidden away like the world doesn’t exist around us.
I also like to pretend that nothing is wrong, and I know everything there is about him to know. The nagging feeling about pushing him has been screaming loudly in my head, and I’m unable to keep it quiet any longer.
I’ve been thinking everyday how I can get him to talk, how to ease into a conversation he clearly doesn’t want to have. Living with someone you don’t fully know is hard as it is, but for me, it just brings me back to ugly places that I don’t wish to relive.
You would think Rig would understand why it’s so important to me to talk, because for all I know, I could be living with someone who is going to snap on me at any moment. It terrifies me to think of how much I don’t know about him.
I hate to screw up everything we have going on between us lately, but it’s been three months since settling in this new house, life, and the new job recently. I want to start to stabilize my life, and take control over what I can. I just know whatever it is he tells me won’t ever be close to the shit I’ve lived through, and I can help him work through the stuff in his head.
Rig comes through the front door with an armful of firewood. A huge snow storm will be moving in soon. Not looking forward to that.
“I’m pretty sure you have enough wood for the next five years.” He takes his coat off and hangs it up.
“Ok,” I say, still consumed in my own thoughts.
Rig narrows his eyes. “Just ok? Did something happen while I was gone?”
“Nope, nothing happened. Just thinking,” I say dryly.
“Want to talk about it?” he asks and takes a seat next to me.
It’s funny how he’s always willing to listen to me talk about things that bother me, always willing to talk as long as the conversation doesn’t get turned in his direction. That ends today.
“Why won’t you tell me about you?” I ask. “How come you don’t trust me enough to let me in? You know everything about me. Granted, you knew most of it before you even met me, but I never have held back anything from you. We live together for now, and I just don’t like that I have this feeling in the back of my head that I know nothing about you. It’s like I’m always waiting for a tiny glimpse of who you really are to come out so I can feel that I’m not being stupid with my feelings here.”
“Parker, I don’t know why you can’t just be happy with what we have while it lasts. Why do you want to know about things that will only make you hate me? Haven’t you had enough ugliness of one person for a lifetime? I refuse to let my past hurt another person.”
“Do you not trust me? Or is this all just a little game of house that we are playing until you move on to the next person?” I say honestly.
“How could you say that?” Rig’s jaw clenches. “You know how I feel about you, and how hard it’s going to be for me to leave. That shouldn’t even be a question.”
“Actually, I don’t know how you feel, you don’t talk. As far as I’m concerned, I’m just a convenient lay for you. I mean I’m here, I’m lonely, and you know the right buttons to push, with the whole ‘I don’t mix business with pleasure’ line you feed me.”
“Stop it! That’s really unfair.”
“Then say something! Start talking, Rig, because I can’t do this anymore,” I yell at him, and the rage that comes out even scares me.
“When I decided I no longer wanted to stay home watching family after family come through our house, I knew I had to talk to my dad about doing something else. Getting people safe was very important to me. I just wanted to be the one making sure they were safe in a forever place. The first run I went on, I went with another point person, watched what they did, and learned what had to be done. It lasted about four months, and then I went back home and waited for my dad to give me my own mission. I was dead set on getting it right, and getting whoever needed me to safety. About two months later, my dad finally had a job for me. I assured him up and down I knew what had to be done and that I was ready. The rules were pretty simple: follow directions, get from point A to point B, and never stop for too long. Simple, I could do that.” He gazes around the room, avoiding any eye contact.
“I’m sure the first time going on your own must’ve been a little nerve-racking,” I say, trying to keep my participation at a minimum.
“Actually, it wasn’t at all. I was ready to do this and show my dad that I could be out there. You know my father is Andrew, right?” he says, and I had no clue.
“No, I didn’t realize. You never said anything before.”
“The person I was hiding out was a younger girl named Marie. She was married at a young age to a very wealthy man who wanted to be her father more than he wanted to be her husband. It was a terrible situation. Anyhow, we were running for a while. We got close, and one thing lead to another—our feelings got in the way. It’s hard not to grow attached to someone while spending day in and day out with them, as you know. I decided I wasn’t going to do this anymore. I was going to stay with her, keep her safe, keep her mine. I loved her with every fucking piece of me. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for her. I would have killed for her, and that’s exactly what I did.”
