6
Rain
If I thought things could get any worse than burying my grandmother, I was wrong. I woke up and found the bed empty beside me. At first, I thought Jon had just woken up early and went to get a drink or maybe check on his clothes. When I didn’t find him in the house, I thought maybe he had slipped next door to get started on something that couldn’t wait to get done. It took the better part of an hour to realize he was gone. There was no note, no text, no nothing. It was just like the first time he had disappeared, except this time he had spent the night with me instead of someone else before disappearing.
I didn’t have time to grieve Jon Rayburn again. I had more important things to get on with, starting with my meeting with Beau.
“She has built a pretty strong case. It might hold water,” Beau told me, handing me a copy of the claim being filed. I scanned it and tossed it back on the desk angrily.
“That’s all bullshit, and you know it, Beau.”
“Yes, but we have to make sure the judge knows it. How’s it coming with that fiancé of yours? Did you get things patched up?”
“No. I told you that isn’t going to happen.”
“Well, you don’t have much time before the first hearing. It’s only two weeks away. You need to look like you are planning to put down roots here. You need to find someone you can get serious with quickly and make sure everyone knows it’s for real.”
“I don’t understand why I have to have a potential husband just to make myself look acceptable to the people in this town,” I said.
Beau looked at me, my arms folded tightly across my chest and my legs crossed defiantly, and smiled at me as if I was still a little girl waiting for a lollipop while my grandmother discussed some manner of business with him.
“I don’t either, Rain. It’s just a small town, and people here have ideas about how a woman your age should conduct herself. Hell, you’re already an old maid by the standards set here, and you know it. You might be able to get by with it if you can’t find someone, but it’s going to be a hard sell. The more you’ve got going for you in the stability department, the better your chances of getting her claim kicked to the curb.”
I wasn’t happy, but I left his office determined to find someone willing to spend some quality time with me and not opposed to a quick rush into a relationship, preferably someone I didn’t hate. I was on a mission. I started with the only old friends I still felt close to, Becky and Derrick. Becky was quick to act, making out a list of town events that were good for meeting old or new flames. I tried to focus on the task at hand and put Jon Rayburn out of my mind. At least spending all day at the Muskrat Creek Bee Festival kept me away from the house where Jon might be working next door.
The first candidate was a pharmacist in town. He was ten years older and divorced, with two kids. I couldn’t imagine getting serious with him, but I gave it a chance. We waltzed around the festival arm in arm, me smiling amiably as he droned on and on about how his former wife didn’t understand him and wouldn’t let him see the kids as often as he would like.
“It’s like women get what they want from you, a nice house and a nice car. They pop out a couple of kids so you’re on the chain, and then they screw around with their personal trainer.”
“There are personal trainers here in Muskrat Creek?” I asked, ignoring the rest of his rant.
“Well, that’s what he called himself. Jim Bob Hawkins.”
“Wait? Jim Bob Hawkins? The guy who used to sell used cars down at the old Walmart parking lot after it closed?”
“Yeah. You know him?”
“I do. He was a few grades ahead of me in school, always spent more time in the gym than he did studying, which is why he flunked out in eleventh grade.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem to hurt him with the ladies. He’s living in the house I’m paying for and banging my wife,” he bemoaned.
I nodded and changed the subject, directing his attention to a booth where they were selling funnel cakes. Maybe the dose of sugar would perk him up and give me the strength to tolerate the rest of this festival with him.
“Oh, god. You like funnel cakes too? She loved funnel cakes. What is it with you women?”
That’s when I lost my shit.
“OK. If you talked to your wife like this when you were married, I know exactly why she left you for some muscle head who can’t string together a complete sentence. The last thing any woman wants is a man that never shuts up about every negative thing he can conjure up. Thanks for bringing me to the festival. I’ll find my own way back home.”