June, Reimagined (11)
Lennox approached room eight, but before he opened the door, he turned to June. “How bad is it?”
“How bad is what?”
“Don’t lie. I know a disaster when I see one.”
“First I’m a murderer, and now I’m a disaster.”
“Don’t deflect the question. Tell me about the mess you left behind in America.”
June avoided Lennox’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Look, lass, as you can see by the empty rooms, people don’t tend to come to this part of Scotland in the winter, unless they’ve got something to hide. Best to tell me now what it is.”
June hoped Lennox hadn’t caught her eyes darting to her suitcase. “Well, I’m not like everyone.”
“Yes, you’re a unique peanut, Peanut,” Lennox mocked. “Just keep your shite to yourself.”
“You keep your shite to yourself.” June sounded ridiculous saying “shite.”
A feather of a smile pulled on Lennox’s lips. He opened the door to the room and handed June the key. “Laundry is downstairs. Food left in the kitchen without a label is fair game, so I suggest you put your name on anything you don’t want Angus to eat.”
“What about a phone?” June asked.
“Missing someone, are you? Let me guess, he looks like one of those homoerotic boy-band lads on MTV with bad cornrows and a purple fur jacket.”
June hated that her eyes filled with angry, vulnerable tears. She ached for Matt, down to her deepest core. None of this would have happened if Matt had been here.
“Phone’s all yours,” Lennox said, annoyed. “Just use a calling card. You can buy one at the co-op.” He stood at the doorway, waiting impatiently.
“What?”
Lennox rolled his eyes. “I assume you’re planning to pay for the room. This isn’t a charity house.”
June forced confidence. “Amelia said she’d deal with it.”
“Fine. Better her than me.” He turned to leave.
“Wait!” June had her own questions for Lennox, like why was he on Fire and Rescue if he hated people? And what happened to his parents? How did they die? And if he hated being an innkeeper, why not just sell the place? “Why do you live next door and not here, with everyone else?”
“I would never live in the same house as Angus.” Lennox started to go.
“Wait!” June should thank him. As rude and insufferable as he was, Lennox had saved her life, and for that she was thankful. But she couldn’t get herself to say the words. “What’s with the tattoo?”
Lennox’s sleeves were rolled to just above the elbow crease, exposing five tally marks, the fifth crossing the other four.
“Let me guess,” she quipped. “One for each of the dogs you had growing up? Or the number of countries you’ve been to? Or, I know . . . one for each woman you’ve loved?”
“Wouldn’t that be sweet.” Lennox mustered a saccharine smile. He rolled down his sleeve, covering the tattoo. “If you knew what it was for, lass, you’d hate me even more than you already do.” With that, he walked away.
And once again, June Merriweather was alone.
FIVE
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Spring Semester Schedule
Below is the spring semester schedule for JUNE MERRIWEATHER. Classes start January 6. If you require schedule changes, please contact your advisor. Thank you.
ECEE 3100 Introduction to the Science of Reading MWF 9:30-11:30 211 Morton
ECEE 3810 Play & Creativity in Elementary Education TTH 10:00-12:00 312 Jefferson
ECEE 3002 Junior Clinical Experience in Elementary Setting TBD
GEOL 1010 How the Earth Works MWF 2:00-3:00 112 Tiffin
PHYS 1001 Canoeing TTH 1:30-3:30 Bing Recreation Center
June awoke the next day groggy and disoriented from a heavy night’s sleep, dried drool on her cheek. Last night she had flopped onto the creaky bed like a dead fish, her shoes and clothes still on, all the fight gone from her body, from sparring with Lennox Gordon.
His own quaint cottage, she could now see, was separated from the inn by a wide pebbled driveway and large hedgerow. Unfortunately, from her window June had a perfect view of its slate roof, white shutters, and stone exterior.
Her room was sparse and as dated as the rest of the house: bed and nightstands, lamps from the 1970s that resembled her grandparents’ vase-like lamps in off-white, wooden dresser, electric kettle with a basket full of English breakfast tea and honey packets, and attached bathroom, with white pedestal sink and small box shower.
After taking a long shower, changing into fresh clothes, and unpacking, June hid Josh’s urn in the back of the closet and closed the door. Then she padded quietly down the stairs and retraced her steps from the night before.
Multiple tables were scattered about the dining room. June imagined that in the summer they would be full of tourists chatting about their itineraries, examining maps and guidebooks, making notes for their vacation days. Now the room was quiet. The seats looked as though they hadn’t been moved in months, the tables empty of place settings. June pushed open the kitchen door slowly, hearing voices on the other side.