Stubborn Read online

  I hadn’t uttered a single word.

  “How was the train? Any drama?” She hooked her arm through mine and swung my bag over her shoulder. Her eyes searched my face, and for a moment, I didn’t think she’d let me answer.

  “It was okay. I had a little problem, but it got solved.” I chewed my lip and thought about the boy. The gorgeous one who sort of saved me. I couldn’t get his face out of my head.

  The train station was filling up. He must have gotten off. The crowded platform reminded me of a military homecoming.

  “Like what?” Meggie’s permed, blonde hair bounced as she spoke. “Are you okay? Maybe I should’ve told you to dress a little more uh...covered. You can’t be wearing Daisy Dukes around these parts, if you know what I mean.”

  I knew exactly what she meant.

  “Had I known you looked like this,” she waved her hand in a circular motion in front of my chest, “I would’ve said something. Are you hungry? If we’re gonna eat out, we need to beat these cads before they load up the eateries.”

  I chuckled at her nutty language, her scattered thoughts. My aunt wasn’t much for cooking dinners, from what I remembered. Fixing airplanes she was good at.

  “Come the start of the week, they all blow back into town like a storming gale. This here’s nothing, believe me. But don’t go getting any ideas. I promised your mom I’d watch you like a hawk. Do you have a boyfriend? You must, looking like you do, kiddo. Oh, I almost forgot. Joshua’s going to meet up with us at home. He had to drive one of my guys out to Watford, but he’ll be back. Wait until you lay eyes on him. You won’t believe it.”

  I was already emotionally drained by my forced exodus out of New York, and now I was taxed from listening to her babble.

  “He drives?” I pictured my little cousin, Joshie, the chunky kid with a buzz cut who used to chase me around with his airsoft gun. He was only a year or so younger.

  “You betcha. He’s been driving since he was ten.”

  “Yeah, I guess things are a little different out here.”

  Meggie raised Josh alone. I used to ask if I had an uncle, if he had a father, but my mother always changed the subject or got royally irritated with me for bringing it up. From what little I saw of the town, I knew Meggie lived with plenty of male company.

  I followed close as she darted to her truck. She wasn’t the usual toothpick-skinny woman I remembered. I gazed at her rounded hips and fuller face. She had a good figure still, but her sleeveless blouse was loose and billowy, almost like she was trying to hide a few extra pounds.

  I climbed into her burgundy Ford F-250 pickup, dumbfounded as to how she knew it was hers when there were at least fifty identical vehicles in the lot. She tossed my duffle into the bed and pulled onto the main drag, kicking up a cloud of dust as a gushy Willie Nelson track began to play.

  Meggie waved out her window at a handful of men who hollered her name. “Hiya, gentlemen.” She turned to me. “Good bunch of working fellas. Lonely for their families.”

  The night breeze blew dry and warm through the pickup cab. The city was bigger than the ghost town I recalled. Last time I visited, it was covered in white and nearly thirty below. Under the street lights, I could see the dusty rutted streets overflowed with grimy pickups, oil equipment vehicles, and cap-wielding truckers. It was bustling and clogged. And so dirty. The whole town looked like a giant construction site. There were Help Wanted signs, offering astronomical wages, in every window. I could hardly believe how the traffic caused us to sit at the same stoplight for ten minutes. I just wanted to get to my aunt’s and put the whole raw deal behind me.

  * * *

  Aunt Meggie’s property had aged. The house was in desperate need of a paint job, the driveway a rocky trail and full up with pickup trucks and four wheelers. An elongated oil truck with the name Halden-Remington parked parallel to the driveway when we pulled in. I’d seen the brand on several other trucks in town. Out back I spotted the boardinghouse, a long motel with a dozen or so efficiency apartments. Male voices and loud music boomed through the night air. Somebody with badass skills stole my attention playing acoustic guitar. I listened, captivated and in absolute awe of the talent. When I stretched my gaze to probe the driveway, all I could see was a reflection of the moon in the shiny paint of a pickup truck roof.

  After dinner, Meggie settled me into my new room. “Okiedokie. That should do it for you.”

  I stared at the pile of mismatched towels and sheets stacked on a bed in my attic guestroom.

  Meggie tipped her head back to look me over and grinned. “There’s blankets, but it gets dang hot up here. Doubt you’ll need them.”

  I was accustomed to central air. The fan on the bedside table wasn’t big enough to cool a frog.

  “Take a look around. Get comfortable. Tomorrow we’ll get started. It’s late and I’m bushed, so I’ll say goodnight. But first I’ll call your mom real quick and let her know you made it in one piece. Unless you want to.” Her grin broadened.

  I declined with a roll of my eyes.

  “And if you want, you can wait up for Josh. I don’t know why on earth it’s taking him so long.” She gave me a hug and climbed down the creaky stairs of the rundown farmhouse. However, she wasn’t done running her mouth. “Avery,” she snapped up the stairwell, voice ringing through the thin paneled walls. “I have one rule. Don’t ever let anybody in that window of yours. You got me?”

  I mumbled a response and flashed a puzzled look at the attic window, a lofty two floors above ground level.

  There was only a claw foot bathtub upstairs. When my initial disappointment wore off, I scrubbed up and managed to wash my long hair in the sink. The shower I longed for wasn’t going to happen, unless I wanted to traipse all the way down to the basement. I remembered being terrified of it.

  Refreshed, I ventured to the kitchen and helped myself to a glass of milk and a chocolate Pop-Tart. I was half tempted to sneak a call to Janie. I needed to hear a familiar voice from home. I missed my texts as much as I missed my sister. My ears perked to a commotion outside the mudroom. The squeaky porch screen door slammed hard, and Josh, at least a foot taller than I remembered, and as lean as could be, bounded into the kitchen and halted inches short of me, sporting a humorous grin.

  “You’re here. You’re...wow, Avery. Holy hell! What happened to you?” He grabbed me by the waist, picked me up and spun me around once.

  We hugged awkwardly and he stepped back. Then he hopped on the counter and dangled his filthy feet.

  He looked like his mother, except for his dark hair.

  “You look good, Joshie. Meggie said I’d be surprised.”

  He slapped his chest and made a bodybuilder pose. He was about six months overdue for a haircut, obviously going for the grungy, skateboarding, rocker look.

  “No more Joshie, okay?” he told me, smirking. “I’ve been swimming at the lake out near Twelve Mile. Plus, I got me a summer job running some equipment at one of the drill sites. It kills my back, but the cash is unbelievable. Lost about thirty-five pounds last summer and kept it off. You should talk. You look a little different. I mean, you boobed out. Jeez.”

  I swung at his chest with a fist, pretending to punch him. “Jeez, yourself. Do you always talk to girls like that? Didn’t Meggie teach you any manners?” It was the only body thing I felt really self-conscious about.

  He grunted and raised an eyebrow. “You’re not a girl no more. The guys are gonna be all over you like flies on peanut butter and jelly. I’ll have to keep an eye on you. You might wanna wear a paper bag out there.”

  He jerked a finger in the direction of the boardinghouse. The side of his mouth turned up. I could hear the racket of men fooling around.

  I wondered about the guitar hero.

  I wondered about the hazel-eyed boy from the train.

  “Thanks, but I don’t need you to do any protecting, little cousin. I’m older remember? I can take care of myself here in big oil country.”

  He
lowered his gaze to his leg and scratched at a patch of blistery bug bites.

  “You don’t have a clue what you’re up against here. This place is a madhouse.”

  But I did.

  The thought nagged me. I already had a good taste of what to expect from the train, and I wasn’t looking forward to more drama.

  I tried to change the subject. “What’s to do around here? Still cow tipping and stealing street signs?”

  “Real funny. There’s a lot to do out here. One of the guys out back buys for me. Anything you want, he’ll get it.”

  His eyes shifted to the hallway. I assumed he was making sure my aunt wasn’t listening.

  “Last week me and my friend Max Taylor got wasted on Jack Daniels. The stuff is bad.”

  “Been there, done that.” I shrugged and lifted my bangs to show him.

  Josh angled in and read the bad words. He chuckled and slapped his hands on the counter.

  I ignored him. “Anything else to do other than drinking and puking?”

  “We could go to the Bad Lands. There’s always a bonfire. I got a crapload of fireworks to take to the lake. Some kids climb the oil derricks at night. Oh, Max’s sister wants to meet you. She needs some female blood to hang with. Her name’s Molly. She’s like twenty,” he offered. “We’ll do something tomorrow night. You in?”

  I wanted to hang with somebody older than Josh. Maybe she’d know of some boys. “Sure. Whatever you do, I’m in.”

  We said goodnight and he flopped down on the couch to catch the end of Man v. Food.

  * * *

  In my bedroom, the fan blew warm air across my shoulders the entire night. My skimpy pajamas were sticking to me when I awoke fresh out of a dream. I’d envisioned I was in the middle of a truck stop listening to idling diesels and revving engines. The potent smell of fuel filled the muggy air. Voices fussed below. I rolled off the twin bed and stood rooted at the window yawning into the cloudless blue sky. I arched my back, still stiff from the train ride. Then I pushed up on my tippy toes and stretched my fingers to the top of the window frame to pull it down in an attempt to stifle the engine sounds so I could go back to sleep.

  My heart jumped into my mouth.

  I was flashing the yard below like an eager Girls Gone Wild wannabe. A breeze hit my skin where it should never hit my skin. I let out a startled gasp. My hands fell to the hem of my cropped T-shirt and I yanked at it, ironing it to my stomach as if it would stay glued in place. Twenty or so men lived out back, and I just gave them the money shot of their summer.

  I panicked as my gaze plunged to the ground and absorbed the fact that I was not alone.

  To my horror, a young guy wearing a yellow T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans was sprawled out in the bed of a black Ford F-150 pickup, a perfect audience to my peepshow. He had a book laying open on his stomach, his cowboy boots pulled off. A white cowboy hat shielded his face from the sun and his hand pulled at the rim. I thought I heard him mutter something as I slammed the window shut. But he didn’t make a move to withdraw the hat. I prayed to every god in the history of religion that he was half asleep.

  I needed to be more careful.

  I needed to wake up.

  “Breakfast’s on, Avery,” my aunt hollered up the stairs only five minutes after I fell back to sleep.

  I lay on my back, studying shapes in the cracked plaster ceiling before making a move to get dressed—far from the window. I pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank that were spilling out of my bag and slid my feet into flip-flops. I scrubbed really hard at my forehead with a Sponge Bob washcloth left over from Josh’s childhood, though it was pointless, and combed my hair into my trademark ponytail, all the while thinking about boys. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t get the hazel eyes from the train or the lanky cowboy from the pickup out of my head.

  * * *

  The phone rang as I sat at the round table next to Josh who was already wolfing down a plateful of scrambled eggs decorated with swirls of ketchup. Meggie answered and gave a quick laugh at the person on the other end. Her eyes grew wide and zoned in on me as she responded with simple replies and then extended the long spiral cord into my reach.

  “There’s a banana on the phone. It wants to talk to you. Your mom said she’s been asking.”

  My face must have lit up like the Fourth of July. I had been trying hard not to think about my sister. Without hesitating, I grabbed the receiver. “Nana! Is that you?”

  I waited wordlessly as my mother’s voice crooned in my ear. Seconds later, the little pipsqueak chirped. “Avy went bye-bye. Avy got in the choo choo!”

  I sucked in a breath before tears dared to pool behind my eyes.

  “Hi, Banana. I’m at Aunt Meggie’s house, far, far away. I got to ride the big train for a long time. Did you wave to me?”

  She giggled and my mother’s voice prodded her to answer me into the phone. She hesitated and replied. I could hear the wheels in her mind spinning. “I waved big! See?”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her I couldn’t see. “I miss you. I love you, Banana. Blow me a kissy.”

  I listened for a smack and then handed the phone back. I huffed an exaggerated sigh and picked up a glass of juice.

  Meggie placed a bowl of melon slices and some potato cakes in front of me. “She sounds so big, that sis of yours. I’ll be darned if she’s ten when I see her next. Maybe we can get them to come out here.”

  “Yeah maybe,” I lied, seriously doubting that would ever happen.

  “Your mom says you detest eggs. That’s what I make this fella every day, so how’s fruit or lefse? You used to love it rolled up with butter and sugar. You kids called it a Norwegian taco, remember?”

  I ate my lefse while I watched Josh consume his bloody eggs.

  “After we finish here, we’ll get started. I’ll show you the coop. That’s what I like to call the boardinghouse. Some of the guys are still hanging around.”

  I chuckled inwardly. I could vouch for that. At least one was hanging out under the new girl’s window looking for some action.

  “We can start in the office. I’m collecting rent this week. It’s a good time to show you how things are done. How are you with numbers?”

  “Not too bad,” I lied again.

  I wasn’t going to admit in front of Josh that I took advanced calculus when I was fourteen, or that I once tutored a flunking college student. It wasn’t something I flaunted, though my grades were the saving grace in my life. My parents could never hold them over my head, especially knowing I had my heart set on going to Syracuse University. In fact, I considered graduating early, but I had no good reason. Skipping out the last week of school didn’t hinder my education one bit. At least that’s how I saw it.

  “Okiedokie then.” She smiled and headed to the back door. “Hurry on up and meet me out back.”

  I arched a brow at Josh. “How hard am I going to have to work here? She doesn’t think I’m cleaning toilets, does she?”

  He choked on a mouthful of toast. “Uh, doubt it. But you’re gonna have to deal with the worms.”

  A sneaky smile crossed his lips.

  “I don’t do worms,” I told him firmly, planting a hand on my hip. I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Not that kinda worm. The rookies, the hired-on guys. Roughnecks, roustabouts. You know. Unskilled, uneducated, bottom of the barrel.”

  I nodded slowly and frowned. “In other words, like you? So why exactly would I have to deal with them?”

  Josh proceeded to chug milk out of the carton. He belched.

  I made a mental note never to drink any milk out of the fridge.

  “Yep. I’m a worm. You wouldn’t believe the stuff the guys pull on me.”

  He still didn’t answer my question.

  He cleared his throat and murmured into his sleeve as he wiped his mouth. “They get a little rowdy when ma’s not around.”

  “Great. Good thing I took self-defense.” I picked up a knife and stabbed the s
liced melon on the counter.

  Josh chuckled, holding up his palms in mock defense.

  “After work, me and Max are heading to a bonfire. I’ll be home at sundown. You should come,” he offered and then exited by way of the back door without a goodbye.

  I followed sluggishly, wondering if the yellow shirt from the Levi’s commercial was still sleeping in the truck.

  “I’m out here, Avery,” Meggie’s voice, all business, called me from an open window in the garage-like office dotting the motel like the period beneath an exclamation mark. The word office, painted in faded black stencil, showed over the door. “I’m in here, pokey.”

  I shot my gaze around the backyard and observed a line of picnic tables and a giant barbeque pit. I strolled along the grassy footpath, staring into the forever-wide, golden pasture beyond the property. When I pulled open the office door, causing a bell to ring above my head, I found Meggie seated behind a crude industrial desk covered with mounds of paper, punching numbers into a calculator.

  “Don’t you have a laptop?” I asked.

  She looked up. “It was stolen. But don’t worry, it was a one-time thing.”

  My muscles stiffened. I pictured vile hoodlums living in the coop. Why had she gone into this business? And why did my parents think it such a splendid idea to ship me here?

  “Anybody nice live here?”

  A framed photo of Meggie standing in front of a sleek fighter jet hung above a line of pegs decorated with trucker hats. Most had a HalRem logo embroidered on them. “And what’s with all the caps?” I stepped closer to observe.

  “When the guys take off, they leave me a hat, sort of like a token or whatever. Most of them are great guys, hard workers. You’ll see. Right now I’ve got every room full and some on a waiting list. Rooms are scarce in these parts. I try to work with some of the company owners and fit as many young ones as I can.” She leaned forward. Her belly swelled a little over the desk’s surface.