Page 22 of Cascade

I laugh and proceed to tell her about meeting Archer and sleeping with him on a whim. And then continuing to sleep with him, but only on my terms. Only when I feel like it. Only when it occurs to me.

“And that’s the thing that’s different,” I tell her. “I haven’t gone to him since I’ve been coming here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Archer

“THIS ISN’T MY year.” I toss down my cards on the table and shove all my chips toward Leonard. I haven’t won so much as a hand of cards in weeks.

“Looks pretty good from where I’m sitting.” Leonard chuckles, gnawing on the end of an unlit cigar in the Acorns clubhouse, scraping my hard-earned nickel chips together until he has dollar piles. “Getting late, though.”

I glance up at the clock—nearly midnight. My brother and Asa left a few hours earlier. Both of them had to get home, they said. Even Moorely took off, and that goofball doesn’t even have a woman waiting for him at home. Just his damn algorithms, which he acts like are the same thing.

“What’s eating at you, son?” Leonard and Ed Hastings start cleaning up the club house, stashing the bags of potato chips back in the cupboard and putting away the unfinished bottles of cheap whiskey.

I could lie and say I feel abandoned by my siblings. I could lie and say business has been stagnant, but they all know that’s not true. I scrape a hand over the stubble coming in on my jaw. “Well, you know, I have to hire someone at the office. I’m pretty sure.”

Levon nods. “Bout time. You’re taking forever doing the quarterlies for the Elks and the Moose.”

“And the VFW,” scoffs Justin, who’s friends with the ancient proprietor of the local post.

“I don’t even know how half these old man bars decided to hire me,” I say, helping to stack the chairs along the back. “But yeah, business is booming. I never wanted to be anybody’s boss, though. I’m going to have to start wearing real fucking pants to work,” I tell them, gesturing at my mesh shorts.

“Seems to me, Archer, you’re not telling us what’s really eating at you,” Leonard says. “I saw your dad the other day. Told me Hunter’s having a boy.” I nod. “It wouldn’t be that you’re feeling left out, what with Diana’s business taking off and Hunter having a baby and all that?”

“Nah.” And it’s true. I’m not bothered by them being around less. My siblings were gone for long stretches of time even before two of them settled back down here in Oak Creek. And Fletcher, well. He’s hardly been home in ten years. “Maybe it’s just that on top of work changing,” I decide, and I’m about to convince myself that’s the real issue, when Ed Hastings throws a balled up napkin at my face. “Hey!”

“It’s that Whittaker woman,” Ed says, and then he grunts. “She never did subscribe to theGazette.” The Acorns gather around, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, waiting for me to spill my guts. Ed continues, waving an arm and saying, “Don’t think the whole town hasn’t seen you two carrying on in your office—that’s gotta stop, by the way. You can’t have an employee in there while you’re grinding corn on the conference table.”

The other Acorns bust out laughing and I have the decency to blush. But really, that’s the issue right there. I haven’t been…”did you say grinding corn, Ed?” He nods at me slowly, wagging a gnarled finger in my face.

“I’ve ground an ear or two myself, Archie, but never at the office. Land sake, son. Take her out for a proper date, why don’t you.”

And that’s the kicker right there. Opal Whittaker has no interest in going on a date with me. She won’t take my calls. I know where she works. I know where she lives. I’ve seen her father in a bad spot. But I have no way of contacting her right now to ask her if she wants to go swimming with me before the water gets too cold. Shit. Now i’m thinking of her in a bikini.

Opal and I never made any sort of plans or commitments. She was, in fact, quite clear that all we were doing was having sex. But god, the sex is so good with her. She’s so uptight and nervous, and then she gets naked—or not, depending on her mood—and this fearless pleasure goddess emerges. I’ve never felt any sort of connection like this with a woman before. Never felt like my body responded so instinctively to someone else’s movements or someone else’s touch.

She ghosted me, just as everything else in the world around me is shifting. And I hate it.

“She, well…I haven’t seen her in awhile,” I tell them, and they look at me sympathetically. No more words of wisdom are forthcoming. No more jabs about me getting my kink on at work. Ed’s right about that part at least. I need to rein that in if I’m going to hire another accountant. Shit. I have no idea how to hire an employee. I make a mental note to go talk with Asa for advice.

The Acorns’ sympathy about my lack of a love life is worse than their prying and gossip. I make sure Leonard gets the clubhouse locked up before I climb into my truck. But I’ve got nowhere to go anytime soon and nobody waiting for me to get there. I try to decide if it’s desperate of me to go drive by Opal’s place and see if her lights are on.

I remind myself I’ve never once thought she was desperate when she’s turned up to find me for a booty call. Why shouldn’t I pursue her for the same purpose just this once? Jesus, we’ve missed an entire summer of lazy lovemaking. I could have had her along the creek bank, the smooth water rolling off her skin in the moonlight.

Before I can finish that delicious thought, I’m at her place. Hot damn! I see lights on in the living room, the blue dance of the television reflecting on her wall. I practically run to the door and am about to pound when I remember that it’s the middle of the night and Opal’s a woman home alone. At least I hope she’s alone. Fuck. I hadn’t even stopped to consider the reason I might not have seen her in awhile is that she’s found someone else.

Surely Diana or Abigail would have mentioned that to me, right? They’re all friends. They might not discuss my relationship--can I call it a relationship with Opal? Whatever it is, they might not discuss it with me, but I feel certain they’d bring it up somehow if she found someone new.

I exhale long and slow, my cheeks puffing out, and I decide to peek in her curtains like a medium-level stalker. And there she is, sprawled out on her sofa with that finicky cat sitting next to her on his sofa. Her arm trails off the side of the couch, not quite touching Oscar, and I know she longs to pet him.

Overcome by need, feeling like a starving man after being apart from her for so long, I tap on the glass. She starts, eyes wide as she looks over.

I wave and, when she sees it’s me, she rolls her eyes.

Great.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

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