Page 34 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers
Me: Oohh enticing, but I’m not sure I want to be out super late with work tomorrow.
Xander: I can have you back by nine thirty, plenty of time for a good night’s sleep afterward.
Me: You drive a hard bargain. See you tonight.
I’m blushing in my living room as I turn on Halloweentown and curl up on the couch with Gracie at my feet. The window is open, the chilly breeze wafting in, blowing around the scent of the apple cider candle glowing on the coffee table. This feels like it’s going to be a perfect day.
As we drivethrough town for the corn maze, my eyes dance around, noting all of the costumed children running from house to house with their plastic buckets filled with candy. Even though Halloween isn’t my favorite holiday—that’s reserved for Christmas, of course, I can’t help but feel nostalgic each year. I loved trick or treating around my neighborhood as a child and spending the night sorting through my candy as I made trades with my friends. The memories bring a smile to my face, one Xander makes note of.
“Why are you smiling like that?” He arches a thick brow at me.
“Just reminiscing. I loved trick-or-treating as a child. The colorful trees and decorated houses just make me smile.” I stare at a giant skeleton in someone’s front yard, wishing for one someday.
“Is Halloween your favorite holiday then?” Xander asks, glancing at me.
“No, actually. It’s Sage’s. But I do really enjoy it. My favorite holiday is Christmas. Can’t beat the magical lights, snow, and presents. And all of the cheesy Hallmark movies.”
“Let me guess, you’re going to make me watch said cheesy Hallmark movies with you, even though they all have the same exact plot and end with a happily ever after?” His eyes twinkle when they meet mine.
“First of all, they donotall have the same plot. But even if they did, which again they don’t, I would still watch them.” I want to continue on but my brain catches up to the fact that he thinks we’ll still be together at Christmas. My heart jumps in my chest. He can picture us together two months from now and fresh hope fills me.
“Whatever you say, baby. I’ll suffer through them with you regardless.”
When we pull up to the local pumpkin patch, it’s bustling with activity: a hay rack ride carting families around, children chasing each other in costumes, and shrieks coming from the corn maze. Twinkling lights adorn hay bales carefully stacked with pumpkins and gourds. There’s a comforting and homey feel in the air, a bonfire roaring out back, filling the space with the smell of charred wood. A sharp breeze cuts through me, and I pull my hat down farther on my head, curling my toes inside my boots. The sun is sinking fast, taking the chilly but mild temperature of the day away and replacing it with the promises of winter.
We wander inside of the barn and Xander buys us two tickets for the maze. When we are standing hand in hand at the maze entrance, I get a little nervous. I’ve never successfully completed a corn maze before, let alone one at night. It’s seven now so we don’t have too long before I need to be back, but Xander assures me we will be fine and we can always cut through if we can’t find our way out.
As we walk along the dirt path we debate which way to go at each crossroad, what little light we have left dimming by the minute. Xander pulls out his cellphone, using the flashlight to guide us, and we occasionally pass others trying to find their way through as well. For the most part, though, we are alone. I get the bright idea to run ahead of Xander, wanting to create a little more fun. As I start to take off down the path we are on, I yell out, “Come and find me!” as I yank my phone from my jacket and tap the flashlight.
Xander shoots me a sharp look that goes heated as he says ,“When I find you, I’m going to punish you.”
“Not when, Xander. If. And if you do, I hope you bring your worst.” I smile and spin back around pumping my legs as hard as I can, very thankful in this moment that I’m a runner. Xander is going to have to work hard to keep up. I take several turns, remembering which way I’ve gone in case I need to turn back. After a couple of minutes, I slow my run down to a walk before stopping and listening for anyone around me. I don’t hear anything but far away laughs and screams. I’m reveling in my victory when I hear a twig snap from within the tall corn. Just an animal I’m sure.
I stand there for a minute before deciding to retrace my steps, hoping to find my way back to Xander. As I try to recall each turn I took, I hear another twig snap from my right. “Xander?” I tentatively call out, receiving no reply. I keep a steady pace, trying to make it out from the heart of the maze. Thesnapping of twigs follows me at each turn, and I feel my panic building. I’m alone, and it feels like I’m being followed, watched from the shadows. I start frantically making my way over the dirt paths, trying not to trip on roots and ruts, hoping to see someone, anyone, so I’m not alone in here.
I push myself back into a run and the snapping sound quickens, making my breathing erratic. I have to be imagining this; it’s just dark, and my mind is playing tricks on me, that’s all. I try to rationalize everything I’m hearing but soon feel tears building from an increasing sense of dread. I have to get out of here. My phone is clutched tightly in my hand, and I consider pausing to call Xander, but whoever is following me probably wants me to do just that. Because stopping means they can catch up to me, and a call makes me distracted.
I let out a helpless whimper as I see another crossroad and forget if I need to turn right or left. Right. I think I need to turn right. I trust my instincts and don’t hesitate, rounding the corner and slamming right into a hard chest. I scramble back, prepared to run away when strong hands grab my arms and a voice as smooth as sin whispers, “Found you.” My brain takes a second to recognize that it’s Xander and I fling myself against him, gripping him fiercely.
“Xander, oh my God!” I cry out against him.
“Maeren what’s wrong?!” He threads a hand through my hair, his voice devoid of the playfulness he just had.
“I think I was being followed. I was running from you and then I kept hearing twigs snap, and no matter where I went, the sound followed. I didn’t see anyone else and I was starting to panic,” I rush out in one long winded breath, heaving air into my lungs afterwards. “Wait. Was it you? Were you just scaring me?” I let out a crazed laugh. “Oh my God why would you scare me like that?!” I shriek, my fear turning to anger.
“No it wasn’t me, Maeren. I swear it wasn’t me.” I look up and meet incredibly serious eyes.
“Is this a prank? Are you lying to me?” my voice cracks. I know I’m probably just being irrational, but after spending most of my life living with a professional gaslighter, I’m easily distrustful.
“No Maeren, fuck, I’m serious. I would never lie to you and that wasn’t me. I didn’t find you until just now. I wasn’t following you like that, I swear it.” His hands clutch my shoulders now, slightly shaking me like he wants to knock sense back into my head. But if it wasn’thim,then who was it?
“Okay,” I sigh out, suddenly zapped of energy. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that. I don’t know why I freaked out on you. I’m just on edge for some reason, will you forgive me?” I ask, feeling so guilty for how I just treated one of the only people who’s always there for me. Maybe I’m overexplaining, but excessive apologies are how I survived growing up, and it’s all I know.
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You did nothing wrong,” he says, stroking my hair before planting a kiss on top of my head. “Let's get out of here, yeah?” He takes my hand in his and leads us out of the maze as we walk in silence. I’m too mortified to speak and I don’t know how to salvage this night. Not after my outburst.
When we get back to the barn, Xander takes me inside and orders us two hot ciders. We take them back to his car. He opens the door and helps me inside as I try not to spill the drink clutched in my still shaky hands. “Thanks for tonight. I’m sorry I ruined it,” I quietly say.
“You didn’t ruin it, and again, don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. Fuck,I’msorry you got freaked out in there, I shouldn’t have let you take off in the dark like that.” He leans back in his seat and casts his gaze down, placing his large palm on my thigh as an offer of comfort. “I did find you, though,and you know what that means.” He looks up at me through his lashes, grinning like the devil.
