Chapter 2
It wasn't long into the next morning when Claire began noticing the small things going wrong in her barn.
She'd milked three of her cows in a stall and noted how their normally wet noses were cracked dry. She walked over to another brown cow, munching on dried grass. Her coat was clean and free of bugs. She didn't face Claire, and her tail was still. She inspected the rest of the cattle and decided to skip on milking them. Their mood was not up to par to what she was comfortable with.
It was strange. There was plenty of hay in each stall. They had enough warm food steaming from the troughs, plenty of clean water in the buckets. She cuddled some of the sheep and worried why they were acting unhappy, too.
She crossed her arms and watched the animals waddle lethargically around. It could be a funk from the recent storm - even if that was a stretch. But the farmer could find nothing obviously unsettling. She pinched the bridge of her nose, then shoved both hands in her overall pockets.
When she started to wander, the coldest thing suddenly tickled her nose. Her hand went to it. A second... third spot dropped.
She looked up.
In the ceiling was a thick crack in the paneling. The ice had crawled its way through the opening as the tiniest bit of snow trickled like dust down. That was why the barn was colder than normal.
It was not going to be an easy fix. The whole ceiling had seen better days, and as she eyed the wood's pattern, Claire realized it wasn't something that could be repaired in the dead of winter.
Claire kicked her heels around while thinking of what to do. She could call Gotz, the construction worker, but shelling over a few hundred gold for something that would be gone in a season for another repair didn't make sense. She took in her surroundings. There was a ladder hanging on the wall with a majority of her farming tools. It was possible that she could lean it against a ceiling beam and patch up the crack herself. There was a large enough supply in the woodshed to spare for the project.
Rubbing the head of some animals on the way out, she went back into the snow and shuffled to the shed. The thing was out of a horror movie, creepy and dark and musty.
Wood came with a variety of insects that easily found habitat in the logs. Somehow, even through a Mineral Town winter, spiders and ants could thrive.
Spiders. She cringed.
The doors were shut with a block in the middle that she had to slide out and set aside. Sure enough, a few spider webs had collected since her visit inside last week to get firewood.
In the middle of the room was a chopping block and an axe stuck in it. She removed each blue mitten and shoved them in her flannel-coat pockets. The woodpile was at different levels along the walls from where she'd taken chunks before. By the wall closest to her, she dragged three pieces out and rolled them near the chopping block.
She rubbed her palms together for heat and friction and so her palms would stick and have a firm grip on the axe.
It was simple enough to get the hang of the tool after a couple swings. The wood was dead and sliced easily under her force.
She curled the chunks into her arms and pushed the door open with her side to make it out of the shed, and slowly retraced her indented footsteps to the barn.
The doors were heavy and difficult to maneuver, but she managed without letting one of the cows or sheep venture too close out. The boards fell from her grip and onto the floor near the ladder.
Claire suddenly realized how hard this was going to be on her own.
How was she going to get up the ladder with all of this wood, then balance it all on the beam with her nails and hammer? Was her tiny body even tall enough to reach the distance?
Despite the setbacks of the situation, she knew her animals came first. If she couldn't at least try, then why bother at all? Claire hauled the thing off it's hooks on the wall and tried being precise about where to lean it. It was extremely heavy though, and easily controlled her instead.
The cows mooed at her clumsiness.
"You'll thank me for this later," she muttered.
Satisfied with where the thing rested on the ceiling beam, she extended the rails up and locked it into place. She remained as safe as possible and carried each board up on its own, then rested them on the timber. The constant whines and creaking from the ladder did nothing to pacify her nerves.
Her lips were chapped from the dust and cold. They burned when she licked them over a dozen times to numb the pain and focused back on getting a hammer and nails.
The pit of her stomach was heavy and churning like a pot of boiling water by the time she gathered all the materials up and was pep talking herself into putting both feet on the last shaft. She tested the waters by pressing one foot on it with weight. It wasn't awful, per se, but the groan it made wasn't reassuring, either.
A sheep nuzzled into the ladder and Claire shouted, puffed her chest, whined, and swiftly launched herself up. The ceiling beam was a wide, flat surface that fit both of her feet side by side.
Cracks groaned and popped across it and she held her breath for a minute.
She gradually exhaled and went to work. Starting at the end furthest from her, Claire grabbed a board, nails, and hammer.
She was too short for it to be anywhere near comfortable. Having to go on her tippytoes was frightening. Each time she positioned the nail, it wiggled and pinched her fingers as the hammer hit. The animals didn't like the loud banging and the sheep were barking back, galloping away from her space. Claire apologized to them. Her fingers were stiff, cold, and her arm was strained from reaching far out.
When she nailed the second board in, her shaky knees still hadn't calmed. A third board would patch up the crack, and it would go just above her, but it was turning out to be a real struggle.
She put a few nail heads between her chapped lips and positioned the wood, stretching up as far as her short arm-span could.
Two cows were agitated with each other and mooed aggressively. They butted their skulls together below. The distraction got to her.
The plank fell straight down, smacking her right in the forehead. The nails spat from her mouth and she groaned, hand flying to cover the sore area.
The steam of her breath rolled out with each whimper.
Her irritation fueled her to finish the job - and as quick as possible. She slapped another board down and hammered the thing into place, ignoring the screams her muscles gave out and the throbbing in her head.
Claire put both hands on her hips and looked over her work. It was not a perfect or pretty job. She did a few checks by licking the back of her hand and putting it near the spot to check and see if any cool air was getting in.
Nothing. She breathed a sigh of relief and patted herself on the back.
Loud grumbles left her stomach. A good time to have a break and prepare lunch for herself, she thought. The cows and sheep were already a step ahead and munching away on some grub.
She shoved the box of nails in her coat pockets and stuffed the hammer in her sleeve, it's iron head hooked on the outside.
Carefully maneuvering her feet around so she could go down the ladder, one of the protruding nails in the beam caught on the lip of her overall jeans.
It happened fast.
She was yanked back in surprise and lost balance. "Crap!"
At the point when the middle of her feet slid beyond the edge, she knew she could save the fall. She protected her head in her crossed arms; braced for impact. Her skull and tailbone took a majority of the fall. Dust clouded around her and none of the animals looked over. The hammer slipped from her sleeve onto the ground.
But her head hurt.
She swore loudly and curled into the fetal position. Her eyes squeezed shut. She was seeing spots.
A wave of nausea flooded over her and her appetite was suddenly gone.
It was so easy to hate herself at moments like this.
Thick tears swelled in the beds of her eyes. So, so easy.
It was more than falling. It was about her making the mistake and falling deeper into it because that was the only way she knew how to move around.
Claire stayed on the barn floor. She let herself cry until the tears dried and her heartbeat hurt against her skull. Stupid loser. So stupid. Hate it. Hate myself.
The thing about depression, Claire learned after several years, was that it wasn't an ocean to drown in like people said it was. She didn't come up to the surface for sunlight and freedom. Depression was a war trench, a sewage structure; filled with tunnel systems that let her run around to dead ends and filthy swamps, always lower and under the foot of others. It was a labyrinth of suffering.
On the floor of the barn, hunched over like a dying baby, she couldn't get up. Her head was heavy with swelling and a stuffed up mind.
So stupid. So easy.
So useless. So angry.
Claire fisted her hair at the roots. She was upset that something so petty could spill the poison in her.
Her sobs started again and got heavy and silent. The barn floor smelled bitter and bad. One part of her mind was counting to try to calm down, while the other half was erupting with insults.
This was all pointless. She was overreacting and done with herself.
Despite her numb, spinning head, she rolled over and onto her feet. She spit on the ground and leaned her hands on her knees for support. The blood was rushing in her ears, her heart pounding so real it shook her vision with each thump. Her throat clogged up. Sobs racked through her and she collapsed back down. The room shouldn't be wobbling, and her spit shouldn't taste acidic.
She knew she had to get up.
She rolled onto her hands, then crawled to the doors. Hay on the floor dug into her knees and stabbed her palms. Slivers found their way under her skin. She fixed her position and sat against the exit.
The obvious thing to do was calm down.
But each hiccup and suppressed cry made it impossible to take deep breaths.
Her legs were weak and her arms were shaky. The barn smell was too much and made her headache worse.
Her hands gripped the door handle, and she moaned, struggling to pull her weight up. Her tingly feet were flat on the floor eventually, enough to take a step.
A gust of cold wind hit her by the time she was able to get the door open. Shivers vibrated through her body, but all she wanted to do was get back in the house and sleep. Sleep suddenly seemed like the most amazing thing in the world.
Once she got the door to click shut, Claire held onto the wall as she shuffled baby steps through the snow. More had fallen last night.
The low temperatures were making her head hurt more. It got to the point where she was incapable of focusing on walking from the nausea.
Bile rose up her throat and that was it. By the outside corner of the barn, close to her mailbox, she bent over and vomited.
Throwing up made Claire cry harder – it was an involuntary response. She cried under the drooling; welling up saliva to spit out as much of the bitter stomach acid as possible.
Spots grew in her vision each time she blinked, still looking down, holding her hair.
She was no longer aware of her surroundings besides the putrid aroma of vomit. Sleep seemed appealing again. Sleep seemed really appealing.
With her knees more than ready to give out, her freezing hand slipped. She felt the strain of her eyes rolling to the back of her head, then hitting the wet, icy snow, barely able to breathe with half her face buried in it.
It was soft.
Sleep came easy.
There was sweat covering her entire body. It was smelly and unpleasant.
Claire rolled her head back and forth. Something was wrapped around her. She felt like a forgotten burrito in the oven. Her eyes were puffy and crusted shut. She took her time to relax and enjoy the heat, the goose bumps awake on her skin, and the smell of goulash garnishing the air.
Goddess, it smelled good. Her rumbling stomach agreed. It whined for a good minute until it was painful, then growled louder. She relented and slowly peeled her eyelids open.
The brightness was too much and she groaned, cowering back into her happy darkness.
"She's making noises again," a gentle voice said.
Footsteps came around, "Could mean she'll be up soon." That voice was a man's.
What was a man doing in her house? Why were people here?
She tested the waters again while a hand pressed against her forehead. It was familiar. But it hurt and irritated her raw spot.
One eye twitching open, Claire finally hissed out. "Ouch!"
"There she is."
"Oh, my Goddess!"
Claire was squished into someone.
She groaned, "Elli, stop."
"I can't help it!" she was crying. Claire was confused. "My best friend is alive!"
"Yeah, get used to it," Claire sighed.
Trent chuckled, "How're you feeling?"
Between Elli hugging her to death, her head pounding, the nasty pain in her stomach, and the tight burrito of blankets wrap around her, she snorted. "Not the best."
"Understandably so."
"Goddess, Claire. What the heck happened to you today?"
She couldn't take it anymore, "Guys, I'm sweating like a dog and starving."
She relented and opened both eyes. Elli unwrapped her and Trent went into the kitchen. The fireplace was roaring in front of them as they sat in the living room, curled in a dozen blankets.
Elli came around to her front when the last blanket was off, "What happened to you today?"
"Why are you here?"
"We were working when your neighbors from Poultry Farm called and said they'd seen you laying in the snow, not moving for a really long time. Goddess, you have no idea how scared sick I was. And when we found you…" she held her face and whimpered.
Claire was stabbed with a pang of guilt.
Trent walked back over with a bowl filled generously with the goulash and a glass of water with pills. He rubbed his fiancée's back. "Have those pills. They'll make your head feel a bit better."
She nodded and swallowed easily. All she really wanted was the steaming bowl in front of her. She dove in, not worried about manners in front of her friends. Her tongue burned, as did the roof of her mouth. She didn't care. It was good stuff. She crammed each forkful in her mouth and switched between watching the fire and awkwardly looking at her expecting guests. Trent was the first to speak up.
"It'd help to know… what happened so I—we can treat you properly. It's not every day you find someone face down in the snow with hypothermia and a concussion surrounded by vomit."
Elli wiped her nose and looked in her eyes, "How did you get the giant bruise?"
Claire swallowed and put another mouthful in. The day came back to her like a smack in the head. Crap. Blush warmed her sweaty face, "I, uh, fell."
"Fell from where? The freaking sky?!" Elli fussed with her short hair.
"Something like that."
Trent held Elli closer, "Some context would help."
She shrugged and picked at the last of the noodles with each tooth of the fork, letting the metal kiss her teeth on the last bite.
"There was a crack in the ceiling of the barn and I got a ladder to climb up and fix it. I was clumsy and a stupid board hit me," she rubbed the area but immediately removed her hand. Jeez, that was a sore spot. "When I was trying to get down I must've slipped and fell off."
"That could cause some fairly decent damage," the doctor agreed.
Elli frowned, "Why didn't you call Gotz? Or someone more trained in that area? Why didn't you at least have a second person around?"
She shrugged.
"No!" the nurse slammed her fist down in frustration. "Don't you shrug at me. Give me an answer, tell me why you did that!"
Claire felt like a teenager being lectured. She rolled her eyes and looked away, shrugging.
An annoyed screech left her, "How could you be so careless? Do you even realize how serious things were when we got to you? This isn't a game, Claire. You could have some serious long term issues from this."
"Elli–"
"No, Trent!" she shouted. "Don't blow this off to spare her feelings. She was frozen half to death and covered in her own vomit. She looked like she'd been beaten up! Mugged or something!" she threw her hands out. "Do you realize how bad it would have been if that farm hadn't called us? When would I have found you, the next day? Frozen like an icicle and–"
"Elli!" he scolded. "Stop that talk this instant."
Her cherry-tinted bottom lip curved out in a pout and she looked from the love of her life to her best friend. Tears fell from her eyes again, and that was all it took for the two women to get up and hug. Elli cried into her best friend's shoulder, while she comforted her by reassuring her that everything was okay.
"I could have never talked to you again," she cried.
"Nah," Claire patted her back. "I know you need to tell someone about the latest gossip in the whatever magazine of the week."
"Oh, Claire," she hit her. Trent laughed and was back in the kitchen messing with things.
"I'm okay," she squeezed Elli close before letting go. "Sweaty and gross, but okay."
Elli gazed up at her forehead, "That must have been one big board."
She shrugged. It wasn't something she wanted to talk about anymore.
They had to, though. When Trent came back to the group, they were all seated on the furniture and discussing the conundrum. Elli wrote down prescriptions that Trent suggested. He came up and did an examination of her with the first aid kit he towed along.
He warned her about the dangers of sleeping after a concussion. At some point, he beamed a flashlight in her eyes to test her focus. Thankfully, he was satisfied with her reactions.
They discussed her medicine options. To help with the concussion, he was going to send over prescription painkillers in the morning, but for tonight, recommended she use her basic ones when she started feeling any pain. For her severe changes in body temperature within such a short time frame, he advised her not to do any outdoor activity for at least five days.
When Claire complained about tending to the animals, he said it should be fine as long as she dressed warmly and was extremely cautious of her sensitively.
Elli didn't give medical advice, but did interrupt them several times to glare or lecture. It was Elli's special delivery of tough love.
"I don't want you sleeping tonight. If you slip back into unconsciousness, there's always the chance for something to go wrong."
Claire was unhappy about that.
While her friends discussed arrangements for the night, she helped herself to another serving of goulash and stayed in the kitchen, enjoying the food and warmth.
It had been a dramatic day she had not intended on having. She promised herself to not climb ladders again any time soon. Trent was packing up his kit when Elli joined her in the kitchen, arms crossed and a sad smile on her face.
"I'm glad you're awake and walking around."
Claire sighed, "Thank you for everything. I'm so sorry I scared you like that."
"Yeah, well, I guess you can make it up with some girl time tonight while I babysit you."
She laughed and put her empty bowl in the sink.
"How are things?"
Elli tucked some loose hairs behind her ear, "Aside from your accident, things were good today. We weren't overhauled and Trent made his mom's famous noodle recipe."
"It's to die for," Claire agreed.
Elli giggled, "It is. He was worried too, ya know. He cares about you."
"I know," she leaned into the counter with arms crossed. Both women spied on him from across the house, distracted with the news on TV and his supplies.
Claire realized how bad she smelled, "I'm going to shower. If I'm not out by the time you leave, then thank you, doc. For everything."
He looked over and grinned, "Any time."
She shuffled into her bedroom and collected some worn jeans and a few layers of shirts. Her bed looked amazing and so very inviting at the moment. She almost debated if a shower could wait until morning. Alas, it could not, and she tore her gaze from the blankets and headed straight for the bathroom. Her body was screaming for a hot shower. It'd been a long and exhausting day—physically and mentally.
Laying the clean set of clothes down on the toilet tank near the shower stall, she peeled off her shirt and bottoms, and kicked them into a pile by the door. They needed to be cleaned. Leaning down and turning the water on full blast, she tested the temperature with her fingertips, and thankfully, it didn't take long for it to heat up.
Stepping in and positioning herself underneath the spray, she wetted her hair, and enjoyed the feel of the hot water running along her back and soothing her tense muscles.
It was heavenly, and she may have moaned…perhaps a tad louder than intended.
Closing her eyes, she angled her body towards the nozzle and rinsed off the dried sweat and flecks of dirt from her face. All the stress of the day flowed from her and went down the drain, leaving her body clean and her mind free of its weight.
Blush tinted her whole face and chest as her thoughts hopped about and landed on a recent memory.
Gray.
She really needed some girl time right about now.
She scrubbed her skin until it turned raw and red, then finished off conditioning her hair. With the ends of it reaching her hip, it was a tedious task to wash her hair thoroughly.
When it was all done, she jumped out and dressed in the fresh clothes. She moved the dirty ones in the hamper and left a towel on her head, twisting her hair in it.
The steam was making her sweat, so she left the bathroom and was instantly cooled down from the chamber of fog.
Elli was watching TV alone, skimming through channels. She looked up at Claire and smiled, holding up a hairbrush.
She was an angel today.
Claire plopped down on the floor, leaning into the couching where Elli was so she could remove the towel and get to work.
If people could purr, Claire would.
"My show isn't on tonight," Elli complained. "They're only doing re-runs."
"That's dumb," she confided.
"Yeah," she huffed and they were back in silence.
Claire was blushing, wondering how to broach the subject of boys with her friend. It shouldn't be too hard. Elli talked about her love life with Trent all the time, especially when they'd started dating. Even long before that.
She never had that need to talk about it, though. She hadn't had a love life in years. Long before she moved to Mineral Town. It was taboo in her realm.
With a deep inhale, Claire fidgeted, "Uh, Elli?"
"Yeah?" she was working on untangling her ends.
"Can I talk to you about something? It's, uh, personal."
"No way," Elli mocked sarcastically. "Don't you go telling your best friend personal things."
She laughed once and hugged her knees close. Her nails were suddenly the most interesting things in the world to play with, "I just, uh, um… yeah. Yeah."
"Spit it out already."
"I, uh… I went out the other night."
Silence.
"Went out?"
"Yeah, like, went to the inn and all. Not fancy or anything, just a casual outing."
"Claire," her tone was cautious. "You don't do casual outings."
"I know, I know," she sighed. "But I'd just gotten done in a session with Trent, and he kind of gave me this weird confidence boost to go out and have some fun. He said I could start out by bringing you, but I just… yeah."
"That's awesome. Really, it is," Elli was sincere, thinking that was all Claire had to say.
"I met someone," she blurted out.
Elli stopped brushing.
Claire's heart was in her throat, "And we looked at each other for a while, and he came up and talked to me. Before I knew it, he was kissing me and–"
"Oh. My. GODDESS!" she was up and squealing and jumping the next second, the couch wheezing under her attack. "Shut up! Are you serious? Oh, my goodness, Claire. I need the deets now. Did you kiss him back?"
Claire kept her head down to hide her embarrassment, "Yeah, I did."
More squealing and jumping. Then it all stopped when she fell to the ground and crawled in front of her. "Who is it?" she demanded.
"It's, uh… Gray. The guy who works at–"
"I know where he works! Duh, I know him! Are you kidding me right now? Gray did not kiss you. Did he really? He came up to you and everything? Oh, my Goddess, Claire. Dish it out, now. I want you to tell me every single second from the moment you walked into that place!"
Claire took a deep breath and held her face while reciting the night, "We just kept exchanging these looks. He was... beautiful and I couldn't keep my eyes from him. Ugh, I sound like a girl," she groaned.
Elli slapped her arm, "Shut up and continue."
She sighed, "He came up to me, asked if he could join me and we talked... it wasn't even bad. I can never talk to people, you know? But he was so good with conversation and we just had our own little bubble. Then he got all… touchy."
Elli wiggled her eyebrows.
"I was practically sitting on him after a while, and he was so sweet with me. I didn't want to kiss him because I was embarrassed. I was nervous and unprepared to get that far in one night. Going from an antisocial girl to a woman kissing a stranger at the bar."
"Were you drinking?"
She shook her head, "No, I was sober."
"So? When did he commence the kissing?"
Claire rolled her eyes at her friend's excitement, "After I started… touching him back. It was innocent, but we were caught up in each other. When he kissed me, it was short at first. It was like he knew how scared I was, so I guess he was easing me into it."
"Okay, so he didn't just kiss you. He really kissed you."
She shrugged, which led to Elli having another girly fit.
"When are you seeing him again?"
"I don't know. After we were together for a while, his sister needed his help cleaning up. The diner had closed and everyone else had left or gone to their rooms. We hadn't even noticed," she giggled. "He walked me out and told me to come back soon. That was it."
"Oh, no, Claire. That's so much more than just it. You need to see him again!"
"I don't know what to do though, Elli. I'm so lost in this area. I haven't liked a guy in a long, long time."
She grabbed a pillow to hug, "So you do like him?"
Claire nodded sheepishly.
"Then it's settled. You're seeing him again."
"But what—"
"Tonight."
Her eyes bulged, "What?"
Elli bounced back on the couch and went back to brushing her blonde hair like a madwoman. "We have to get you ready."
"No, I can't go see him tonight!"
"Why not?"
She threw her hands up, "Because it's already late and I look like hell. I have a giant bruise that's made me a hundred times more hideous!"
"Hey!" Elli shoved her shoulder, eliciting a good yelp from her. "You are not hideous, okay? Goddess, it took the men in this town to finally open their stupid eyes and see you. You'll be fine. I promise."
"No, I won't be. I have no idea what to say or do."
"Try starting with 'hello.' It's worked for centuries."
"No," she turned her head. "Elli, I can't do this."
She hummed, "Oh, but I think you can."
"I thought you were supposed to be here for me so we could have a girl's night."
"We are having a girl's night. I'm coming with you."
Claire fidgeted with herself while listing off excuses as to why she couldn't go.
She wanted the games to stop. She curled her shoulders in, in hopes to shrink, and with difficulty she tore her face away from the patterns of the rug and crawled away from the furniture. She was hunchback and her eyes were squeezed shut, brows drawn together in a struggle for hope that maybe if she didn't look at Elli for a moment, everything would be back to the way it was before. The fear would dissipate. Her heart would stop quivering in a bid for reassurance.
Elli skipped around the house, fixing her appearance.
Her mind swelled with a headache. Claire went to the bathroom to pop more painkillers. It was going to be a long night.
Her reflection made her unhappy. The bruise looked painful, blotched in purples, blues, yellows, and reds. Her lips were scrapped. The bags under her eyes were puffy.
Defeated, she dragged herself back into the living room. Elli was putting her boots on.
"I really don't want to do this," Claire self-consciously hid behind her hair.
"Why?" she moaned. "You're making this more difficult than it has to be."
"I have this giant thing on my forehead! I can't exactly wish it away."
Elli motioned her over and searched through a basket by the door. It was where Claire kept her winter accessories: gloves, hats, scarves.
"Here!" she whipped around and pulled Claire closer. In one swift tug and several adjustments later, Claire opened her eyes.
"It matches with your outfit and covers it up."
She glanced in the full-length mirror nearby. It was a black beanie, and as much as Claire hated to admit it, it was a good idea.
"Now, let's go."
Because she was wearing jeans that hugged her ankles, it was easy to slip boots on. She wanted to put on a vest because of the turtleneck and flannel she already had on, but Elli was adamant on following the doctor's orders to keep extra warm and made her put on a coat.
They turned off the lights and locked the door on their way out.
Elli held the conversation.
Love made girls into pea brains, Claire concluded. It made girls strip common sense and any ounce of self-decency. Shoes and love.
In spite of the fight she put up to stay home, she was secretly ecstatic to see Gray. He was a new lighter that flickered a flame in her. She swore there'd be a bonfire going off in her chest soon. But she was also aware of how things might actually turn out. He might brush her off. He could easily find a different girl at the bar that would amuse him for an evening.
Claire would do nothing about it. She would accept defeat and brush it off as nothing. It was so much easier to give up than put up a fight.
The moon was a sliver in the sky and barely reflected any light on them. Streetlights guided them down the brick pathways.
Elli would occasionally grab her hand for reassurance and run her mouth all over again. Claire hoped her head could sustain it all. It was nine o'clock, and the inn was open for another hour. The place was probably packed.
They turned onto the street and Claire could hardly keep up with Elli. Her pace was practically at a sprint.
"Could you tone it down a notch?" Claire pulled the beanie down lower.
Elli giggled, reaching the door first. She held it open, "Ladies first."
Her lungs failed to work when she entered the newfound warmth. It was last night all over again. The adrenaline and confidence mix drained, along with the color in her face.
The tables were stuffed with the travelers from the other night. The shopkeepers were having an outing, and at the bar was crammed with the younger crowd.
"Hey, girls!" that same voice boomed at them.
Elli waved, "Hey, Ann."
"Table for two tonight?"
Elli nodded and dragged Claire beside her as Ann led the way. It smelled like cigars and fries.
Claire's body was on autopilot. All she was really searching for was one person in particular. Her eyes scouted the area. Ann led them to a table on the opposite side of the room from the stairs. Claire took the seat that had her back to the wall. Elli ordered their drinks.
At the table beside them was Mayor Thomas. He was thick and built from iron rods and whale blubber. The rounds of his cheeks were that of a hound dog with two tennis balls inside that he constantly refused to give up. The neck of his collar was two sizes too small and made his chins bulge and eyes pop out, like he was an owl always worried that the wolves would steal his mouse.
When the spunky waitress waltzed away, Elli wasted no time, "Do you see him?"
Her shoulders fell, "Not yet."
"Well, until we do, we can just talk and enjoy ourselves."
Claire agreed. There was no point in settling on one goal when they could be having a great time together as best friends.
"How're things with Trent?"
"Good. We're kind of in a tough spot right now. I'd like to move in with him, but I can't leave my grandma all alone, especially with Stu there to take care of."
"It's not like you're leaving town. He could spend the day at your house or mine or with May and the Pastor like he always does, then spend nights with your grandma."
Elli smiled, "I hadn't thought of that. I worry about her nights, though. What if something happens? Stu would be traumatized."
Claire played with the beanie, "I think you need to give him more credit than that. He's eight now."
"I still see him as my baby brother," Elli sighed. "The wedding is only three weeks away. There are so many things to take care of."
"You have me."
She beamed, "I know. And I'm forever thankful for that. You're my best friend."
"You're mine, too."
Ann came around with their drinks then, "Can I getcha ladies anything else?"
"No–"
"Yeah, actually," Elli piped up. "Ann, where's your brother?"
"The dweeb is upstairs in his room," she rolled her vibrant, blue eyes. Up close, Claire noticed how strangely beautiful she was too, just like her brother. "He's heated as a bull 'cause shit went down at the 'smiths today with grandpa. Freakin' baby, if you ask me."
Claire sunk in her chair. There was no way she could talk to him when he was angry, let alone go to his room.
"Thanks!"
"No problemo. You guys enjoy your drinks, all right? Don't be afraid to call me over if you need anything."
Claire nervously sucked on her straw. Elli kicked her foot.
"Ow!"
"Get up and go see him!"
Her puffy eyes focused on the drink, "No."
"We didn't come all this way for you to back out now."
"Didn't you hear her? He's already in a bad mood. I'm not going to ruin his night any more than it is."
Elli huffed, "Ruin his night? What are you, stupid? Stop it. Go upstairs."
"I can't leave you here all alone. Besides, I don't know which room is his."
Cliff was waiting on Mayor Thomas' table. He dropped off two plates of steaming food and made small talk. Elli waved him over before he went to check another table.
"Hey, Cliff."
He nodded.
"Do you know which room is Gray's?"
"Uh," he scratched his head, looking between the two women. "Upstairs, last door on your left."
Claire hid her face, red from embarrassment. Her anxious heart was clogging her airway.
Elli thanked him and he left them alone.
"While you do your thing, I'm going to spend some time with them," she gestured at Rick, Karen, Popuri, Mary, and Zack. They were a group of friends Elli went out with on occasion. "We all need to catch up."
"I can't do this," Claire's wide eyes met Elli's. "I seriously can't."
Her sympathy broke through and Elli smiled sadly. She soothed Claire's hands, "I wouldn't let you do this if I didn't think you could. You'll be fine."
Elli gathered her drink and got up from her chair. She draped her coat in her other arm, "Good luck. I'll be here for an hour, and then I'm heading home to check on Stu and grandma. Don't hesitate to call me."
Claire watched her only friend bounce across the room with grace and blended herself in with the new crowd flawlessly. Something in her jittered with envy. If only being a social butterfly was a process she developed. Elli sat on a stool and listened to her friends.
Her stomach twisted and if she hadn't taken a dozen pills already, she would have popped in more. She dug in her pockets and spilled some money on the table beside her hardly-touched drink. She itched her hair furiously and then fixed it.
It's now or never.
Claire got up and neatly tucked the chair back in. Her thighs were shaky. She shoved her hands in her coat until she realized sweaty hands would be unattractive. She snuck her way across the room. It was filled with laughter and conversation she knew she'd never have. She was feeling awful.
At the foot of the stairwell, her stomach weighed her down. Her hand shook as she landed it on the railing. This wasn't going to go well. With one lasting glance at her friend, she huffed a hot breath out and took small steps at a time.
Her hands played with the beanie and the strings on her coat.
At the top of the stairs, the noise from below was dull and muffled. The hallway was long, a dozen of the same door repeated throughout. With ten more exaggerated breaths, she crept down the hardwood floor. It was a rustic place, antlers on the wall, logs stacked as walls, and stands for firewood outside each room.
She stopped at his door. It was no different from the rest.
The doubt started coming in on her. Maybe she over-thought it all. It could have been all in her imagination.
Elli would skin her if she came back down this soon.
Her anvil of a hand stayed heavy at her side, pressing nails into her palm. She hated how easy it was to beat herself up. So easy.
She sucked a new breath in through clenched teeth. Her heartbeat was borderline painful. Now or never.
Her fist was knocking before she could back out. The regret was instant. A loud thump and groan came from the other side. Angry footsteps marched.
"Dammit, you guys! I already told you, I don't wanna do anything tonight," he shouted. The door swung open with a gust of air that played on the ends of her blonde hair.
Their eyes locked.
Gray was towering by the door, shell-shocked at whom his visitor was. She couldn't help but notice how natural his beauty was in just a wife-beater and sweats, hair sticking up in all directions. It heated up her entire face.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have–"
"No, shit, baby. I'm the sorry one. Just... damn…" He trailed off, drinking her in with his eyes in a way that melted her brain.
He grabbed for her waist, and his lips found hers all over again.