Page 70 of Rough
“Want us to keep her with us today? That way she’s not holed up while you’re out and about?” Wilder’s smile after his question does something to her, and I’m shocked when the corner of her lip ticks up like she’s fighting off a smile.Holy fuck, is one of us finally breaking through?
Instead of answering, she lets the door fall shut, whispering to Lucy. “Go on.” Then waves the dog toward us. David comes back and whispers something to her, making her head snap up and turn slowly toward us. “We’re gonna go, but I do have a request. Could ya’ll ask your girlfriend to stop sending me cease and desist requests? We all know you’ve signed releases to film you, but she’s startin’ to cause us some problems.”
“Sonofabitch,” I grit out, marching back to the truck to unplug my phone from the charger. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Bet you will,” I hear her mutter, but before I can ask what she means by that, she and David are walking away. I clenchand unclench my hands to release this pent-up frustration. It’s impossible to know what I should do, and as I take a quick walk, I find myself alongside the barn. I kick at the wall and let out a low growl.
I turn and squat down, letting my back hit the wood I just kicked and tug at my hair. Glaring around me, my mind whirls on what I should do. Obviously, I need to get a moment with her so we can talk, but she’s making it impossible to get that chance. With a long inhale, I close my eyes and try to calm myself down.
When I open them again, my eyes fall to the gas tank Betsy painted all those years ago. Now it’s just a dull white aged by the sun. I hate that she covered it over. Covered the memory of us sneaking out and painting long into the night.
Standing, I dig out the keys to my truck and start jogging toward it. If she wants to erase our past and ignore the future, I’m going to fucking remind her.
“Where you goin’?” Wilder calls out. He and Clyde are laying out wood to chop, the axe stuck in the block at the ready.
“Store. I’ll be back in thirty,” I holler back, then slip into the truck and gun it to town. It only takes me fifteen minutes inside to grab everything I need, the picture of what she had painted years before clear in my mind.
Once I’m back with my supplies at my feet, I study the tank after washing away the built-up dirt. I feel my friends’ eyes on my back, but I don’t care what they think. Most likely, though, they know exactly what I’m doing.
Repainting our history is the first step to reminding Betsy that I’m not going anywhere.Wearen’t going anywhere. Glancing at them, I remind myself that we all need to have a conversation sooner rather than later. Clearly, we all have an interest in her. Some of us have been there much longer than others, but in the end, it still puts us at a crossroads.
Before I left the truck, I grabbed my earbuds so I could zone out and not pay attention to anything around me. Putting on the song Betsy and I danced to on prom night, I turn up the volume and get to work.
When she painted this, she wanted her own flower garden filled with wildflowers and long grass. She was missing her grandma and the beds she used to tend around the house, which became overgrown over the years after she died. Betsy’s Pap, Otis Harper, never did well keeping anything alive aside from animals. Betsy did her best, but taking over Gram’s duties on top of chores was tough for her, so the beds fell to the side.
My guilt eats at me for not being here for her when her Pap passed. I truly don’t remember when Clyde told us, but that’s not an excuse. I’m sure he did. I was just so involved with myself that I became selfish and only focused on the things that mattered to me. In hindsight, my actions were fucking disgusting. Betsy was here every day, standing by mom’s side when dad was getting sicker, doing everything she could to make things easier for them.
Where was I?
I was taking my shirt off for the camera and flexing my muscles under the sun for a few comments and cash.
Shaking my head at myself, I continue working; the sun moving across the sky at my back, warming my neck, before it eventually dips low, chilling the sweat beading. At some point, one of the guys offered me water, which I took. But I ignored the food they set at my side.
Our song continues to play over and over again in my ear, and I paint as I remember holding her in my arms, dancing on the side of the road after she had been let down so terribly.
Finally, I finish the front. The back still needs to be done, but if I’m honest with myself, I want to do that again with her. Maybe someday she’ll let me sneak her out the bedroom windowand tiptoe across the lawn to fix it up, but for now, this’ll have to do.
I drop the brush into a bucket of water and stand with my hands on my hips, critiquing what I’ve done. It’s not nearly as pretty as what she did at thirteen, but I hope it makes her happy.
Tugging the earbuds out, I turn and see Betsy sitting on the ground a few feet behind me, and I freeze. From the corner of my eye, I see the other two waiting on the front porch of her house, David nowhere in sight.
She’s staring at me, analyzing my face, like I’m a problem to figure out and it makes me feel insufficient under her study. But I stay standing, letting her work things out. Eventually, her gaze falls to the tank I’ve spent the day painting.
I haltingly move toward her, and her face whips back up to me, a deep frown etched in her features.
“Why?”
It’s all she asks, and I’m not sure how to answer her. Clearing my throat, I take another few steps until I’m right in front of her, then crouch down so we’re more eye level.
“I’m so fuckin’ sorry,” I croak out, then clear my throat again. “For everythin’. I hate that you don’t respect me anymore. I hate that you erased this,” I say, holding my hand out to indicate the tank. “I didn’t want it to go away.Usto go away.”
She nods slowly, glancing back at it. “It faded. Rust started showin’ back up, and I didn’t have the energy to repaint, so I just whitewashed it. It wasn’t personal.”
“I didn’t like it.”
“Neither did I,” she whispers, meeting my eyes, unsure of how to deal with me right now.
Letting my knees hit the ground between her feet, I lean forward and slowly bring my lips to the side of her neck, pressing a kiss against her pounding pulse. She sucks in a breath when I pull away, but I keep locked on her face.
