As You Were (22 page)

“Okay...” Tru surveying their surroundings.

“So shoot some food and let’s go dry off.”

Tru opened her hands pointedly, indicating the absence of her rifle, and made a pistol-shape with her hand. “I’m afraid my finger is unloaded.”

“Where is it?”

She pointed to the top of the hill. “I tossed it aside up top, when we started to fall. Didn’t want any friendly fire incidents.”

“Shit. Well, go get it.” Brittany knocked a glob of snow from the knee of her jeans.

“Got rappelling gear on you?”

Brittany squinted up at the hill, then plopped down in the snow in phony despair. “We’re going to die here.”

Tru chuckled. “No. We’ll die down there—” she pointed farther below through the trees. “— because when our bodies thaw out, they’ll slip down to the bottom.”

“You’re a sicko, Tru.“

Tru sniffed, touching her freezing nose, as the snow began to fall again. “Follow me.” She led them around the hillside and through the trees until finally they made it back to the top of the slope. “You stay here—” Tru warned. “I’ll go get the rifle by myself.”

Brittany remembered the commercial she had seen. “
The Army: It’s not just a job, it’s an adventure
,” she mocked.

“Bite me,” Tru snapped, a stray smile playing tag with her face.

Tru cleaned off the rifle the best she could, and they continued. Fifteen minutes later, their mutual bruises were considerably more tender, and they were increasingly miserable. When Tru spotted a rabbit nestled under a tree, it was a welcomed sight. She stilled Brittany’s groaning behind her and they watched it hop across the snow. Tru raised the .22 and drew a bead, while Brittany covered her eyes, and peeked through her gloved fingers. Tru took a slow breath and released it, holding it at the end and squeezing the trigger. The pop of the round leaving the barrel echoed briefly, before it was muffled in the blanketed trees. The shot met its mark.

They advanced on the furry creature, a red hole contrasting the fur of its side. Brittany looked down at the lifeless form, sadly. “Bunny killer,” she accused.

“You wanna eat, doncha?”

Brit’s hunger overcame her indignation. “Since you’re the one who didn’t stock the freezer, you’ll have to fix it, not me.”

“Duh. Why in the world would I let you ruin a perfectly good rabbit?” She picked up the rabbit by its ears, and they began the laborious trek home.

After Tru skinned and prepared the rabbit, she would bake it and add some canned vegetables on the side. Brittany would be surprised to find that it tasted delicious.

The next morning, Tru disappeared into the woods for quite some time, and eventually, Brittany heard the gunshot and knew that the bunny-killer had bagged a Bambi, too.

Tru dressed the deer from a hook outside the back porch, the snow sullied by crimson, steam from entrails creating clouds all around, and Brittany couldn’t bear to watch, even though Tru offered to show her how it was done. After the evisceration was complete, Tru hung the antlers on the porch wall. Another coat hook.

The deer steak, Ramen noodles and corn Tru prepared for dinner, however, were enough to stop Brit from complaining. Tru said she kept it from tasting “gamey” by adding lots of garlic, and cooking it slow in the crockpot. Brittany was just glad to have her stomach full again.

Tru put some seasoned slices in the dehydrator for jerky.

27

BRITTANY THOUGHT THE MOTOR WAS THE CHEROKEE, since Tru had driven it behind the barn several hours ago to fix the new storm damage to a section of roof over the stalls. When she looked out the living room window, though, a young man emerged from a black Dodge truck. She crossed the room to the front door and opened it before he rang the bell. She recognized him from the bar the other night. “Travis, right?” she asked him.

He chuckled. “Right.” He thrust his hands into the pockets of his down slicker-vest and considered her brashly.

“What’s up?” Brittany watched him look her over.

He chewed his gum thoughtfully. “Aren’t you gonna ask me in?”

Brittany felt foolish. She swung the door open wide. “I’m sorry. Come in.”

The young man sauntered to the fireplace and held his hands out to its warmth. “So—” he began, as Brittany joined him. “You two still together?”

Brittany eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you say that?”

“I guess she still hasn’t come clean.” He rubbed his hands together and pulled a Marlboro Light from his jacket pocket, putting the end of it on a coal in the fireplace to light it. “She’s not supplying me with electronic cigarettes anymore, either. Had to go back to these.”

“What do you mean, she hasn’t come clean?” Brittany felt a coldness edging into the room, and told herself it was probably from the front door she had held open when he arrived.

“I’m sorry, Brittany. I gave this a lot of thought, and I don’t think I can keep this secret anymore. I felt obligated to tell you. That’s why I’m here.” He flicked the ash from the cigarette into the flames and then pulled deeply on it, filling his lungs. “You wouldn’t happen to have some coffee made, would you?”

Brittany considered his words with measured interest and started for the kitchen. “Yeah.”

“Black is fine,” he called to her.

When she returned with a cup for him, he was sitting on the stone ledge in front of the pit, still enjoying the cigarette. “What secret are you referring to?”

He glanced up at her over the rim of the brown stoneware mug. “Well now, Tru has been a friend of mine for a long time. You know, we met through my sister, and I’ve gotten to know her pretty well...
so I feel torn about this, but...
I’m just so angry at her for what she did.”

“Tru has never mentioned you,” she said simply.

He nodded knowingly. “I’m not surprised.” He took a loud sip of coffee. “Did you make this? It’s good.”

She ignored the compliment. “Why aren’t you surprised?”

He took another sip, drew on the cigarette a last time and threw it into the fire. “Well, if I had done what she did, I don’t think I’d talk about it much, either. She’s probably too ashamed of herself.”

“Look, Travis...I have no idea what you’re talking about, so why don’t you just say it?” She folded her arms and shivered.

“Well,” He eased further into his best I’m-your-friend persona, leaning forward, holding the cup with both hands, his elbows on his knees. “Your little Tru got drunk back in December, a little while before you disappeared.” He dropped a hand down and wiped a bit of moisture from the toe of his boot. “—and I gave her a ride to a Motel. A girl named Liz went along...”

Brittany felt the hair on the nape of her neck rise, and could not stop the shudder that went through her.
Liz. Of Jan and Liz.
It had been obvious the night Brittany followed Tru to the bar, that Liz wanted to bed Tru. Just as much as Jan seemed to want to bed Brittany.
Plausible.
She went over and picked up the poker to stoke the fire. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I went to get a Sprite from the machine at the Hotel lobby, and when I got back, they were...together.” He took another sip of the coffee. “Me and you and Tru have been friends a long time, and this really has been eating away at my conscience. I figure you have a right to know.” He looked up at her sheepishly, as if for permission to continue. She gave him an abbreviated nod, and he added, “They were in the shower.”

The shower...So that’s what all the stuff was about the shower!
Brittany’s revelation was soon replaced by something kin to anger, bubbling like a tea kettle on a tall flame.

Travis stood up and turned around to face the fire again. “I hate to be the one to tell you all this, Brittany, but if she hasn’t told you about that night, with you having amnesia and all...then, you’re being led down the garden path. She doesn’t want you to remember.”

Brittany turned and sat where he had been sitting seconds before. “I can’t believe that all this time I—” she stopped herself from saying more. “Travis, what happened after that?”

“Well, I don’t know anything about the rest of the story except what goes along the grapevine, ya know. But I do know from my sister that it was the same night you had the accident.” He swallowed the rest of the coffee in a gulp and set the cup down next to her, using it as a way to lean his face close to hers. “I’m sorry, Brit. But you deserve to know the truth.”

She stared down at the hearth.

He took her hand and tugged her to her feet, as he straightened. “I’ve been worried about you. And now, I’ve just added more stress on you. If you need anyone to talk to—”

“Don’t worry about me, Travis. I’ll be fine.” Brittany sighed resolutely.
She won’t clam up next time I bring up that night, that’s for damn sure,
Brittany vowed silently.

“I’m sorry I upset you, Sugar...” Travis tried to pull her to him, as if to embrace her, but she resisted. “Sorry. I keep forgetting that you don’t really know me anymore. I have a world of respect for you, Brittany, it’s just that Tru did a really bad thing, and hasn’t told you, and it’s...
it’s not fair to you, especially now.”

Confused, hurt and a little angry, she allowed him to hug her, then.

Tru opened the kitchen door and saw them through the expanse of the living room. They broke the embrace and turned toward the sound of the door. The three of them stood, trading charged looks for the slightest of moments, before Travis pulled away from Brittany and snapped his vest closed. “Well, it was nice to see you, Brittany.”

Seeing his face again was enough to make Tru seethe. She bent to plug in the cord of the high powered nail gun she had brought inside with her, taking aim at him. “You better get the hell out of my house, you fucker, before I fasten you to the wall!”

Brittany stepped between them, moving closer to Tru. “Shut up, Tru! Shut up.” She turned to him. “Go, Travis.”—and faced Tru again, keeping an eye on the nail gun that she held at her side.

“Yeah.” Travis said, moving closer to the door. “Good idea.” Then he offered with forced sincerity, meant to torture Tru, “Call me if you need a place to stay.”–and since Brittany was watching Tru, he sent the dark-haired woman a sarcastic wink.

Tru took only one step closer to the front door before she lifted the nail gun and pulled the trigger, and Brittany pushed the gun aside as the projectile jetted out. Travis stared at the half-embedded nail in the wall next to him, cursing, his hand on the door knob.

“Tru, are you crazy?!” Brittany shrieked, pushing her back, holding her arms down.

Tru didn’t take her eyes off him. “Get the fuck outta my house!” She made another aggressive movement toward him, an additional profanity on her lips. Travis had no more room to back away, the wall had met him in the back.

Brittany pushed the nail gun back down as she raised it again. “Stop!” She heard the door slam, and soon, the rumble of the Dodge’s engine.

Tru studied Brittany. “What was he doing? Did he try something with you?” Tru looked her over as if she might have had an injury.

Brittany yanked the cord of the nail gun until it came out of the wall, and wrenched the tool from Tru’s hand, tossing the mechanism on the sofa. Her fear of witnessing a homicide could now be usurped by her anger. “The question is, what did you try with Liz?”

Tru frowned, and then the past flooded back to her. It was the same ruse, by the same culprit. “Oh, perfect.”

“He told me a few things that I needed to know. He helped to answer some of those questions you wouldn’t help me with.” Brittany crossed her arms and glared at Tru.

“I have no way of knowing what you’re talking about, considering.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. That night I had the accident. That thing about the shower.”

Tru whirled around and locked her eyes on Brit.
What story did he have about the shower?
“What did he say?”

“Everything that you didn’t.”

Obviously, he didn’t tell her the truth about that, either, or she wouldn’t be so self-righteous. Tru turned back around to stare at the flames. She began to shake, and didn’t know whether she would cry or break something. Shakily, she said, “We’ve been through all this before, only you don’t remember it. Brit.” She swallowed a tightness in her throat that took her breath away. “He’s been after you for a long time. He’d love to break us up.”

Brittany grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “Maybe so, but at least I know the truth, now.”

“Ya think?”
Is it the story of my fictitious coupling in the hotel with Travis? Or some other lie? What’s the name of this round of the debacle?
“What ‘truth’ did he tell you this time?”

“The truth about how he took you to a hotel last December, and left you alone with Liz, and you two ended up in the shower together!” Livid, she spun on her heel and picked up her eCig from the coffee table.

Tru was stunned.
Where did this story come from? He told her I slept with someone else...
maybe Macy said something to him about the salt peter information she gave me, and maybe she even mentioned the real story about the shower... and then Travis had to alter it by blending the two.

“What have you got to say now, Morgan?” Brittany wanted to know as she took a big draw of the eCig and blew the vanilla vapor toward Tru.

“He’s lying, Brit—”

“That would be why you never wanted to talk about that night.”

It was a statement, not a question. She had already voted guilty, without exploring the evidence. Tru kept shaking her head, and picked up the empty coffee cup, looking into the bottom of it as if she couldn’t remember what it was for.

“It makes perfect sense, now. You’d rather I had amnesia forever, so that I wouldn’t know that I had the wreck that night because I was upset over finding out about you fucking Liz!” Her voice had escalated to a screech. A screech that belonged to a jealous girlfriend, not a retroactive straight woman with amnesia.

Tru threw the cup backward into the stones of the fireplace, where the shattered pieces scattered in all directions. “Damn it, Brit! He’s lying!”

“It’s too late, now, Tru. The cat is out of the bag. The game is over.”

Tru took a deep, calming breath, looked at the front door as if Travis were standing there, focusing on the nail that had narrowly missed him. “The game has just begun.” She went over to Brittany who smoked the eCig fiercely. “Brit, listen to me. If you’ve never heard a word I’ve ever said, listen to me right now. Look at me—” Brittany refused to turn around, so Tru grabbed her shoulders and turned her. “Look at me,” she ordered sternly.

Brittany locked eyes with Tru, clenching her jaw.

“Travis has been out to break us up since day one. He would stop at nothing to drive a wedge between us. You’ve got to understand that about him.”

“Are you saying you didn’t have sex with her in the shower?”

“No! I mean, yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

“How do you expect me to believe that?” Brittany stomped to the fireplace and jabbed at the logs with the poker. She turned back to Tru who fell silent, and raised her voice to ask again, with enunciation on each word, “How do you expect me to believe that?”

“Brit, please, you’ve got to—“

“Answer the question!” she shouted.

“Because YOU were the one who had sex in the shower. With Travis. Here. In our home. I caught you, Brittany!” Tru blurted. “When I came home from Seattle! You’re the one who cheated, not me!” She sighed heavily, an odd sensation of relief washing over her.
No more secrets, now,
she told herself.

Brittany stood there, stunned, struggling with the need to trust Tru, and the possibility that it could all be a lie on Tru’s part to fulfill some hidden agenda.
But would Tru do that?
After the time they had spent together over these last weeks, did she still believe that Tru was that sort of person? She finally swallowed and moistened her lips to speak. “I don’t know what to believe, Tru. What Travis said...it all makes sense.”

“Of course it does. He planned it that way. You don’t know Travis anymore. I do.” She swiped tears away angrily. “My mistake was trusting him. I learned that the hard way. He played a little game with me too. I don’t know how he keeps all the lies straight in his fat fucking head.”

“What are you talking about? Is there something else you’re keeping from me?”

Tru moved to sit on the hearth in front of the fire. She tried to get her breathing under control again, and looked up at Brittany, who stared at the nail embedded in the wall by the front door, distress writhing on her brow. “There is something, but for a while I didn’t know what really went on. Then I found out. So this crap tonight is icing on the cake.”