Meadowlarks Read online

  “Hi, Blaine. Lookin' good this morning.”

  Is she actually doing this right now? Right in front of Jeremiah? What happened to the happy, bouncy girl who would just hug me and get it over with? I can’t deal with this woman-scorned bullshit.

  I ignore her statement and smile my pearly whites. “Gwen! So good to see you.” I overdo it a tad but just can't help myself.

  Addison and her brother show up right around four PM, and she looks breathtaking. Like the day I first saw her, she's wearing a light blue dress. The top clings to her chest, accentuating her lovely breasts and delicious curves. The rest flows down wider and ends with a lacy hem just above her knees. Her long curls are pulled back into a ponytail, swept over her shoulder. She looks like she just walked out of a New England country club, not a condo in Sheridan, Wyoming.

  “I might have to take you into the barn and find a mound of hay, baby,” I whisper in her ear and twirl her around with my hand. “You look gorgeous.”

  She blushes and kisses my cheek.

  More and more guests arrive. I do the good son thing and mingle with everyone. I get many compliments on how well I've kept the ranch, and I tell them I couldn't have done it without Jeremiah.

  Nick must have notified Maria that they were on their way, because she starts clapping her hands to draw everyone’s attention. “The guest of honour is on the way!” she calls out.

  Five minutes later, Nick's black Cadillac pulls in the driveway, and it takes everything in me not to burst, as I can see my father through the windshield looking around, pissed off and clearly cursing at everything he sees.

  “Happy birthday, Bennett!” everyone almost on cue shouts joyously as he gets out of the car, and I can see in the minute before he opened his door that he composed himself. He is now smiling and thanking people as they approach him.

  I don't rush over; I wait until he's close enough, and I walk up to him. “Happy Birthday, dad.” I extend my hand, expecting him to shake it.

  “Blaine. Did you do all this?” he doesn't shake it, and I drop my arm to my side, disappointed.

  “No, the girls did, dad. I think it looks pretty good.”

  Ignoring me, it takes him all of two seconds to notice Addison standing beside me, and it's like a switch gets flipped.

  “Well, who might we have here?” he questions.

  She extends her hand. “Hi, Mr. Blackstock. I'm Blaine's friend, Addison. Happy birthday!”

  He takes her hand in his and pats the top with his other. “You are lovely, and thank you. Ignore that sign, too,” he says, pointing to the big banner. “It should say twenty-five with 45 years of experience.”

  “Bennett! Bennett! Come sit over here, will you?” Patricia Pattison, the store manager at Lander's, waves and beckons my Dad over.

  He turns to go, but not before placing his hand on my shoulder as he passes. “Keep her close, Blaine, my boy. One's like that don't come around often.”

  I don't say a word. I just nod at him, then look over at Addison and smile.

  There are only fifteen or so people left by eight o'clock, and most of them have been drinking far too much. In fact, someone threw up at the base of the giant oak tree beside the garage.

  My father has also had his fair share, and I glance over at Nick, who is obviously thinking the same thing but just shrugs his shoulders.

  Yeah, Maria is right; you only turn seventy once.

  Jeremiah and Owen start a fire in the pit, and we all pull our chairs around closely. Bobby, my nephew, and Alex have been gone for a few hours. They took my Gator for a rip, and we can hear them every now and then in the distance yahoo-ing and laughing.

  I go inside to get a sweatshirt for Addison; she looks cold but probably won't ask me for anything. When I drape the blue hoodie around her shoulders, she looks up and smiles at me.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, baby.”

  My dad tells some story from when he was in school and bought his first truck, some old Ford that he ended up driving into a tree on a stormy night. He wasn't hurt, but the truck was totalled.

  He moved on to another tale about making out with Clara (he can't recall her last name) before he dated my mother. They were caught behind the school with his hand in her shirt. He's very proud of himself as he recalls the account, and he finishes another bottle of beer.

  Louie, the now-retired butcher from Lander's is still here. He went to school with dad, and he loudly belly-laughs when he remembers the Clara incident as well.

  “Yeah, Clara. She was a nice girl. But nothing compared to my Nicola...” Dad sighs.

  My laughter stops.

  He looks down at his hands, picking dirt or something out of his fingernail.

  “God rest her soul.” Louie nods his head and takes a swig of his beer.

  I look down at my hands too, not sure what to say or do. When I look up, my father is staring at me, and I feel like a fish in a barrel.

  “Blaine. Did I thank you yet, for all the decorations?” He's not smiling; actually, he has no expression at all.

  “Yeah, dad, you did. Thank you, but like I said earlier, the girls put it all together.” I feel five again, and I want to wrap myself in my mom's quilt.

  “Right, yes, you did say that. Thank you Maria, Kels.” He tips his bottle at each of them, and they both smile.

  “Happy Birthday, Dad,” they say in unison.

  He directs his gaze on Addison. Here we go...

  “Young lady, tell me about yourself.” He puts her on the spot, and everyone around the fire looks at her.

  She surprises me when she responds right away. “Well, I'm new to Wyoming. My brother and I moved here from Maine. I'm actually starting a nursing position at the hospital this week.”

  “Ooohhh!” Kelsey squeals and claps her hands. “You might get to work with Johnny; he's my brother's son, a nurse there, too!”

  Addison smiles. “Which unit is he in? I'm hoping for the NICU, but for the first few months I'll be in emergency.”

  “Oh, I'm not sure. I think he works in palliative care—you know, with the old folks,” she says, blocking her mouth so my father doesn't see her words.

  He clearly hears them and roars. “Kels, you stop making fun of this old man, you hear? You'll be sitting' here someday too, and your kids will make a big ol' banner for you.”

  Conversations change here and there, and after people get driven home by some designated drivers, only Nick, Maria, Jeremiah, Gwen, Addison, Alex and Bobby, me and dad are left.

  Bobby gushes about the ride with Alex, and they both dramatically re-enact almost tipping the side-by-side over while cornering sharply.

  “Sorry, uncle Blaine. We were trying to be careful.” Bobby realizes I don't look amused.

  “Uh huh…” I don't say anything else, but I do grin at him, and he relaxes.

  “Oh, Bobby, don't worry about him. He got into enough trouble when he was your age, too. Why do you think I went grey so early?” Dad snorts. “You know there was a time when these two little shits,” he says, pointing at Jeremiah and me, “stole a cow from the Wilson's farm and tied it to the flagpole at school.”

  Jeremiah and I laugh, remembering.

  Addison looks up and gapes at me. “Blaine!”

  I shrug and grin. Jeremiah laughs.

  Dad goes to open another bottle, and Nick leans in. “Dad, I think you've had enough. You don't want to be up all night.” He moves to take the bottle, and dad turns so he can't reach it.

  “Now, listen here, Nicholas Blackstock. You aren't touching my beer, ya hear?”

  Everybody knows that any parent means business when they use your first and last name together.

  “I'm fine anyway, just enjoying my birthday with my family,” Dad continues. “What's the harm in that?”

  “Nothing, dad.” Nick looks annoyed but knows when to argue with him and when not to. It's all about picking your battles—or so I've heard.

  “Blaine, does this y
oung lady know about your bull riding?”

  I hadn’t mentioned it, so she nudges my arm with her elbow. “You didn't tell me you ride those bulls!”

  “Well, yeah, but not for long anyway…Only a few seconds.” I wink at her.

  “Addison, Blaine's actually really good. You should come to a show!” Jer backs me up.

  Thanks, buddy.

  “He's not good, Jeremiah. He's one of the best. Isn't that right?” Dad forms a gun with his index finger and thumb, points it at me, winks and makes a shooting noise with his mouth.

  Trying not to act surprised, I'm actually dumbfounded. I don't understand why my father is acting like this. It must be because he's drinking. He's never bragged about me. Ever.

  We talk a little more about the rodeo business, and Nick tells dad it's time to go. He's finally complacent and gets up out of the lawn chair to leave.

  “Goodbye, my dear. It was a pleasure,” he says to Addison. “Make sure Blaine brings you around some time; you are very welcome in my home.” By his home, he means Nick and Maria's house.

  “Thank you, Mr. Blackstock. I hope you had a good birthday.” She leans in to hug him, and he hugs her back.

  “Goodnight, my son,” he says to me. I don't get a hug, but again, a pat on the shoulder. Hey, at least it's something.

  “Night, Dad.” Is all I can muster at the moment; I'm still organizing and filing the events of tonight in different folders in my mind.

  “Blaine.” Nick nods his head to the side, motioning me to come talk privately with him.

  “What's up?” I ask when we turn the corner of the house, away from everyone.

  “We can't let him drink like that, huh? I haven't heard him like that in years! I'm really sorry about what Louie said too.”

  I know exactly what he's about to say.

  “When he said about God resting mom’s soul, I thought dad was going to flip.” He puts both hands on each of my shoulders, like a coach to his player in the bottom of the ninth. “Listen, we buried this a long time ago, right? You don't ever let that old man get the best of you.”

  I can't look at him in the eye, and I feel myself getting emotional, so I break away from his grip. “Nick, I know. I don't want to do this, not right now.”

  “Blaine, I'm serious,” he says and kicks the grass with his boot. “I wish you could have grown up with the father that we did. But things happen for a reason, and I couldn't imagine life without you.”

  His eyes begin to water, and I feel my face starting to flush with anger.

  “Nick, I'm fine, really. I've dealt with all this before. It's done and buried, and thank you for being such a good big brother.”

  I think hugging him might shut him up. So I do, and it does.

  Thank you, Lord.

  We say our goodbyes, and Addison stands beside me, waving as they pull out onto the road.

  “Mmm.” She nuzzles into my chest. “You smell so good.”

  I hold her tightly and kiss her forehead. “Sorry about tonight.”

  “Sorry for what?” She leans back to look at me. “Sorry for not mentioning you're this extreme bull rider, and I should worry about you coming into the hospital on a stretcher some day?” She sticks out her tongue at me and kisses my chin.

  “Well, yeah. That.” I laugh “It's not that bad. And I make good money doing it, too.”

  “I started to picture you when he told me, and I almost had to excuse myself because the thought of you was so...so...hot!” She bites her lip and trails her index finger on my collarbone and down my chest.

  “Baby, keep it up; I dare you.” I grin the biggest, most salacious smile I can, and we kiss.

  Jeremiah plays his guitar, some old Willie Nelson song I can't remember the words to and Gwen and Alex are making up some other lyrics like typical drunk people do.

  “Want some water?” I ask Addison before getting up to grab a few bottles from the house.

  “Yes, please.” She zips the hoodie and shoves her hands into the pockets. She sits down beside Jeremiah, bopping her head to his new rendition of the song.

  There aren't any bottles in the fridge, but I keep a few cases in the pantry. I go in to grab some, and the door shuts behind me. Pulling the string for the light that's dangling above my head, I see that Gwen is standing in front of me, looking like a lion ready to take down a gazelle.

  “Gwen, what the hell are you doing? Not this shit again, so help m—”

  She doesn't let me finish, just puts her fingers over my mouth and tells me to shush.

  “No, listen to me right now.” I grab her by the wrist and shove her hand from my face. “This has got to stop. I have no interest in you. Why are you doing this?”

  “Are you kidding me? You've wanted me for years; I know it.”

  Here comes the same old song and dance again. I try and get by her, but she holds her arms out to either side. “Gwen, get out of my house. Now.”

  She doesn't move, so I grab her hands and move her out of my way. Opening the door, I'm relieved to be out. A mixture of claustrophobia and potential assault have me choking for air.

  “Go to hell, Blackstock. You can't handle this anyway.” She pulls at the hem of her skirt. “Go fuck your pretty little ginger.” She points at the outside door.

  Like it's a blur of slow motion, I turn to see Addison standing there, eyes wide. For the first time since I've met her, they're empty and grey.

  Gwen stomps by me, intentionally nudging Addison with her shoulder on her way out, and slams the door. Addison's gaze doesn't change, and it's like she didn't even notice Gwen at all.

  “Addy.” I use Alex's nickname for her. “That...” I point out the door. “She just came in the pantry.”

  “It's okay.” She forces a tiny half smile, and takes off my hoodie, gently placing it on the floor. “I'm going to take my brother home now.”

  And just like that, she’s gone, the wooden screen door clicking shut behind her. I stand there like an idiot, not chasing after her, not saying anything. I'm just in shock, at both Gwen and her unbelievable actions and words, and at Addison just leaving. She wouldn’t even listen to my explanation.

  I can hear Jeremiah calling after her. “Addison? Everything okay?”

  I don’t hear her answer him.

  “Don't worry about her, Jer,” Gwen says and then raises her voice louder. “Guess she needs to find some other guy. Maybe one without daddy issues. Go find a nice doctor now, sweetie!”

  That's all it takes; I am out the door like a bat out of hell. “Gwen, get your fuckin' ass outta here right now.”

  She stares at me, mouth open.

  Addison's tail lights are all that's left of her now.

  “Blaine, what the hell just happened?” Jeremiah stands completely bewildered. His night just went from a scene from The Great Outdoors to Carrie in about ten seconds.

  “Jeremiah, get her out of here. And don't bring her back.” I'm livid, and I feel a pang of guilt for talking to him like that, but I can't stand the sight of that bitch standing next to him.

  “Blaine, really. You're throwing me out? Awe, and we were having such a good time.” She's really pushing it now, but I don't say another word.

  I slam the door behind me once I'm inside my house. I sink to the floor against the kitchen door. I can hear Jer trying to get information out of her, but she's not saying much. Just whining about how she must have said something she didn't think was wrong but “that girl” took it poorly, and I freaked out over nothing. His truck rumbles to life, and soon the sound is in the distance...then it's gone.

  What is the protocol for something like this? Is Addison my girlfriend? Do I go after her? Do I get an old boom box and stand outside her window blaring music? I have no idea.

  All I do know is that the only thing I've ever really cared about just walked out of my house and had the coldest look in her eyes when she did it.

  I text her. I'm so sorry, I don't know what she was trying to do. Nothing happened. />
  Tick, tick, tick. The clock is the only sound in my head. No new message alerts chime in.

  I don't know what to say...she's just crazy and she's gone.

  Still no response. I am wearing down a trail from pacing, and I don't care. Maybe the floor will cave in, and I'll fall into a black hole. It's now two in the morning.

  Please just let me know you're home safely...Please.

  It is 2:05, and I'm in my truck heading to her condo. I can't sleep; I don't want to sleep. I just need to know she's okay. Her car is in the parking lot, so I run up to her door, almost tripping through her flowerbeds.

  Knocking...knocking...

  Please open the door, baby.

  Nothing.

  I knock again, and Alex opens. “She's not in here, bro.”

  I'm puzzled. “Where is she?”

  He points to her car.

  I don't knock on the car window; I open the door and slide into the seat beside her. She looks straight head, hands neatly folded in her lap. I can tell she's been crying.

  “Baby?” I reach to put my hand on her leg, and she moves it away from me nervously.

  She sniffles her nose. “Blaine, I think this was a mistake. You should go. I'm no good for you.”

  “What?! Are you kidding me? No. I'm not leaving. I want to talk to you, please.” I turn my body so I'm facing her, but she still doesn't look at me. “Please, baby.”

  I move some hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. “Nothing happened with her. She cornered me. And I got the hell out of there.”

  “I believe you.” She sniffles again. Reaching into her purse, she pulls out a little package of tissues and wipes her eyes and nose. “I don't even know why I'm crying,” she laughs. “I'm not your girlfriend, anyway. Thank you for inviting me, but you should go.”

  She still won't look at me, and I can't take it anymore. I turn her face with my hand, gently making her look at me. Her eyes aren't empty anymore; they're sad, and my stomach does flip flops.

  “I...I think I've fallen in love with you. Please don't cry.”

  She blinks like I've said something totally unbelievable. “What did she mean by you having daddy issues?” She wipes another tear from her cheek.