Everything You Want Me to Be(90)

“Neither do I.”

“I’ll have even less after paying for child support.”

“That’s fine.”

“I don’t know what I can do for work before I get my New York license.”

“You’ll work in publishing, LitGeek.”

“We’d have to tell your parents before we go.”

That stopped me.

“I’m serious, Hattie. I can’t live a half-life anymore. We do it all the way, or we don’t do it at all.”

It was my turn to swallow. “My father will kill you.”

“Then I’ll die with a clear conscience.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. We’ll tell them together. After I lock the gun cabinet.”

“I’ll tell Mary by myself. When school is over.”

We stared at each other, smiles slowly lighting up our faces. My breath came fast and shallow, the excitement bubbling up.

“You’re coming to New York with me?”

He looked jubilant, and all of a sudden I saw how he must have been as a kid. His face open and hopeful, not weathered by unhappiness.

“I’m coming to New York with you.”

I screamed and launched myself at him, grabbing him close and laughing as we tumbled over each other on the floor. I planted kisses all over his head until he found my wandering mouth and kissed me long and deep. I don’t think anyone had ever been as happy as I was at that moment. It felt like I couldn’t even contain it, it wouldn’t all fit inside of me, it was spilling out my fingers and eyes and chest, pouring light into the darkest corners of this wretched barn.

“I love you, I love you,” I kept saying, until a noise outside made us break apart and turn toward the window, but there wasn’t anything there except the wind, which made me shiver. Peter rubbed a hand over my goose bumps and sighed.

“It’s getting late.”

“No, it’s early.” I smiled, loving that I would get to contradict him for the rest of our lives.

“And you’re cold.” He rubbed his way up to my shoulders. “Why don’t you have a coat?”

“Farm girls are tough.”

“They’d better be, because the hard part is next. Telling everyone. Breaking ties.”

I looped my arms around his neck. “Then I’d better have some more of the kissing part, to get ready.”

After a few more minutes, he broke away again. “We really should go. Are you going to be okay getting back to your car?”

I almost forgot I didn’t have a car here, but I didn’t mention it. I wasn’t going to start our new life by becoming helpless. I’d just call Portia and have her pick me up at the parking lot. She was probably still at Dairy Queen with the rest of the cast and crew.

“You go on. I need to do something first.” I grabbed my purse.

“What about this?” He picked up the locker key that must have fallen on the floor at some point.

“Keep it. I told you I was giving you your money back tonight.”

“And you’re just a model of truth and honesty.” He walked over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, grinning.

“Just like you. We make a great couple.”

He gave me one last kiss to tide us both over until we could meet again and then he left. I started to reach for my phone, but became overwhelmed by euphoria. Everything flashed through my head, each moment and decision over the past year that had led me to this point in my life. I spun around a few more times, hugging myself, and then dug the camcorder out of my purse, eager to recount every last second of the miracle that just happened.





DEL / Saturday, May 10, 2008


WINIFRED BLEW up the barn on the morning of the fishing opener. Usually Bud and I spent this day motoring the patrol boat around Lake Crosby, catching a mess of crappies too little to do anything with besides throw back. We went to Lake Michigan later in July, between planting and harvest, when Bud could afford a week away and after I’d dried out the Fourth of July idiots. That was our serious fishing trip. The opener was just so we could feel the line casting out over the water.

The boys pulled practically all the lake patrol during the season. They confiscated alcohol and handed out tickets for not wearing life vests, but mostly worked on their tans. Everyone loved the lake shifts and I let the crew have them, except for the opener. That day had always been mine and Bud’s.

We hadn’t talked since I’d arrested Lund and Bud knocked me down. I wanted to call but didn’t know what to say, and the days kept filling up with county business. Tommy’d become erratic and was pulled over for drunk driving. His parents talked the judge into giving him leniency on account of his loss. The station had a tractor turn over on the highway, a complaint of livestock theft, and a ninety-year-old who knocked over a light pole because his car was in the wrong gear. I filled out the paperwork and set up the detours, feeling all the while like I should apologize to Bud and not knowing what for. I passed him in town once or twice and we both lifted a hand from our steering wheels and kept driving in different directions. Finally, after the arraignment, I signed Winifred’s permit and called him. I told him I’d be on the lake during the blast for security.

“I’m going with you,” Bud said, and hung up.