3. Lacey

CHAPTER THREE

lacey

T he hum and honking of traffic gradually grows louder, accompanied by the crashing of grocery carts as they're being gathered in the parking lot I stopped to rest in. Gradually, I begin to come to. My mind, still groggy from my nap, is slow to process my surroundings. It's darker in the camper than it was when I laid down. Quite darker. I try to stretch out the soreness from my body and sit up, not having the mental capacity yet to make my body stand. The watch on my wrist shows I slept for six hours.

I force my body up, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep. I hadn't meant to sleep so long. Sure, the chances of being found at this point are slim, but I want as many miles behind me as possible before I slow down.

Trying to get my bearings, I stumble a little as I walk to the front of the camper to lock it up and then slide into the cab of my truck. I grab my fully charged phone purchased only this afternoon and load the minutes onto it. He made me get rid of my cellphone long ago, his excuse being that the landline hanging on the kitchen wall was sufficient, though he was never wild about those long-distance charges from me talking to my best friend, Jalynn. It wasn't long before it became easier to stop calling her than to set him off and give him one more thing to explode over.

Just the same, I don't have to look up Jalynn's number, despite the months that have passed since I've talked to her. I know it by heart. As the phone rings, I look at the clock on the dash. It's only about seven o'clock her time.

"Hello?" Jalynn's familiar voice replaces the ringing.

"Jalynn! This is Lacey."

"Lacey? Hmmm, I don't think I know a Lacey."

"Jay—"

"I'm teasing, but gosh, Lacey, it's been ages since we've talked. Where have you been? Have you found a wedding dress yet? I talked to Lizzy the other day. You remember Lizzy who moved to Florida in high school? She said she was back in town visiting her aunt Irma, and she heard you and Ben finally set a wedding date! I'm telling you what, it's not right that I've been having to get all of my information about my best friend from third parties, instead of straight from the source. I've missed talking to you."

"I've missed talking to you, too! And about the wedding"—I pause to take in a deep breath—"it's off. I bought a camper instead."

"What? You bought a camper? For heaven's sake, what are you talking about? And what does that have to do with your wedding? I'm so confused. Have you lost your mind?"

"Maybe. Or maybe I'm trying to keep from losing it."

"Lacey, what's going on? Why haven't you returned any of my phone calls? Are you mad at me for something? You running from the law?" Jalynn asks with a fabricated chuckle, but I can tell she isn't totally sure that's too off base.

"Jay, you know my dumpster-fire-starting days began and ended with you," I joke, referencing an unfortunate event from years ago. Thankfully, a case of beer was enough to get old Harold Thompson to turn a blind eye, and the culprit was never apprehended. "I'm not running from the law. And I'm not mad at you, either. Look, it's a long story, but it ends with me and Ben not getting married."

Jalynn listens as I give her the CliffsNotes version of the last twenty-four hours of events, but I don't tell her the worst of it. I can't speak the words. She'll be on my side as always, but she tried over and over again to get me to leave, and I chose every time to stay. I can't complain to her about getting what I deserved.

"So let me get this straight. You snuck off in the middle of the night, pulling some hunk-of-junk camper that you bought with your wedding dress money with that old hunk-of-junk pickup your granddaddy left you. You don't have any clue where you are going, what you are doing, or even anything else in between?"

"Yup. That's pretty much the gist of it."

"Bless your heart. Girl, this isn't going to work. You have indeed gone mad."

"What do you mean?" I ask defensively. She is supposed to be my person. She, out of everyone, should be the one to have my back. I've finally left, just like she told me to do for years. "I couldn't stay with him. Not like that. You know I couldn't have."

"I know that. I'm not saying you shouldn't have left. In fact, I'm proud of you for leaving him. I'm just saying you're gonna have to put down roots somewhere. At least long enough to earn some money from time to time so you can support yourself."

Silence fills the line.

"Why didn't you call me?" Jalynn asks with an unusual sadness replacing her typically joyful tone. She quickly slips out of it and answers her own question. "Probably because you knew I'd tell you to buy a plane ticket to come see me instead of spending your money on an old camper."

"I don't know where to go," I admit. "I was too busy thinking about leaving to think about where I would go once I finally got away."

"Oh, honey, that part's easy. You're going to figure out where you are, and you're going to turn that rolling junk heap in whatever direction necessary to roll it on up here to Montana. Our town's not all that much bigger, but it's nothing like back home in the holler. You can put that thing somewhere and call it home until you find a job and can afford to get a real place. Or just sell it all to the first dummy to take the bait and catch a flight up here. You can stay with us as long as you need. We have plenty of space. Not that you would know since you let that plane ticket I bought you go to waste instead of coming to see me after we got settled in up here. But George finally got our spare bedroom cleaned out, and we painted it and fixed it up real smart. You'll love it."

"I can't come there, Jay. Of all the places I go, I can't come there. You know that will be the first place he looks."

"Assuming he looks at all," Jalynn says with a judgmental tone, though I know it isn't directed at me. "So what's the plan? How can I help?"

"I don't know. I'm in South Dakota now, not far from the border. Maybe I'll start by seeing what the Dakotas have to offer. What do you think?"

"I think you are absolutely bonkers."

"Maybe. But it's good for the soul to do stupid shit every now and again."

I chase the last cold ravioli around the can with my fork. It doesn't want to come off the side. Finally, I coax it off and carefully balance it on the fork from the can to my mouth, trying not to drop it on myself and leave a big stain on my shirt. It's not the most satisfying lunch I've ever eaten, but it will do.

Like Jalynn said yesterday on the phone, I need to come up with a plan. I can't afford to float around endlessly, and I'm going to run out of money sooner than later, especially if I don't find a place to park my old gas guzzler.

I stare out at the buttes here in South Dakota. They sure are beautiful. This doesn't seem like a bad place to land. At the same time, it doesn't hold anything for me. Nowhere does anymore.

Maybe I was too quick to leave, to walk away from so many years with him.

Things would be better if he quit drinking. Alcohol was his way of dealing with the pain, and I should've done more—been more—for him. I should've tried harder to help him quit. I was selfish. Weak. If I'd been a better girlfriend, he would've been better, too. This wasn't all on him. I played my own part in it.

My teeth chew at the skin on my bottom lip as I drift away from the buttes ahead of me and back to a couple of days ago when I left him.

The front door slammed shut, rattling the house. I pushed my bedroom curtains ever so slightly to the side, exposing enough of a sliver of the window for me to see him stomp down the wobbly wooden steps of our small deck. Too anxious over what was to come to sit still, I rubbed my free hand up and down the jean fabric on my thigh. Acid burned at my throat, rising from my churning stomach, and I thought for a moment that I might vomit. I needed to see him go, though. When I saw him climb into his old beater car, I let the curtains close again and forced my lungs to suck in a deep breath of air to steel my nerves.

Maybe I should wait. Maybe I was moving too quickly. Surely he didn't mean it. He wouldn't. Would he? This was my chance, though. I needed to make the most of it.

The gravel outside crunched and popped as he pulled away, and a sadness washed over me. I would never get the closure of an actual goodbye. I shared years of my life with him, and just like that, it was over. Warm tears ran down my cheeks as I mourned both the good and the bad I'd had with him. I wiped my damp cheeks dry again and tried to blink away the remaining tears blurring my sight. No, I couldn't wait any longer. It had to be now. I pushed myself off the wall and grabbed my suitcases from under the bed, filling them quickly with my clothes and things I couldn't bear to leave behind. It would have to do. This was my chance to get away.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, bringing me back to the present and alerting me to a phone call. I slide it out and look at the screen. I don't know why I bother looking to see who it is. Only one person has my number: Jalynn.

"Lacey," Jalynn says when I answer, "I know you already said no to Montana, but I'm calling you to tell you that's a mistake, honey."

"Jay—"

"Now listen to me. I thought this through last night. Ben still has control over you as long as you are making your decisions based on him. Don't give him that power. We can help you but only if you let us. Don't let him win this."

"What if he finds me, Jay?"

"What if he does? What's he going to do, anyway? You're not a piece of property, Lacey. He can't just come in here and take you away against your will. And I'll be damned if he is going to lay a finger on you. You're safe here."

The buzz of traffic rushing by fills the line while I mull over what she said.

"What if I do come up there? What then?"

"You start over. You can make a life here just as well as anywhere else. Maybe even better since you already know me and George. Plus, we'd love to have you close by again. If you want, I can get a job interview lined up for you. I just talked to Mrs. Jones today down at our local flower shop. She needs full-time help. I think it would be perfect for you."

"I don't know..." I pick at the loose threads hanging from a rip in my jeans.

"You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Then give it a try. If you get up here and decide it was a bad idea, I'll help you figure out where to go next."

I sit silently, holding the phone to my ear. It's time to make a decision.

"Come on, now. Tell me you're on your way," Jalynn says.

I want to say yes. I want to go to Jalynn and be with my bestie again, but I don't know what to do. Is that the right choice? Or did I give up on him too soon? Maybe I'm better off going home. There'll be no denying I left if I go back. I'll surely have to face the consequences of leaving, but maybe it's not too late for us. Maybe I can help him get better. My feelings were hurt when I found out about his affair. My judgment may have been clouded when I decided to leave. I remember the first time I told him I was leaving, and the memory washes over me, overtaking my senses.

"You're nothing but a big bully, Ben!" I yelled at him. "I'm sick of taking your crap, and I'm not doing it anymore. You can't hold me here."

Ben pushed me back down into my chair and leaned down in my face.

"You're not leaving," he said firmly.

"Get off me!" I pushed him away. He stumbled backward, and I stood from my chair and started grabbing up my suitcases. He rushed back toward me after finding his footing and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me tightly against him.

"The only way you're leaving here is in a pine box," he spit out into my ear.

My blood ran cold as the threat echoed in my mind, and when he released me, I fell onto my knees. My fingernails dug into the fibers of the carpet as I held on to the last minute shred of hope I had left.

"Lacey!" Jalynn's voice booms through the speaker of the phone, pulling me out of my head. "Tell me you'll come to Montana."

I inhale deeply, still feeling the ice course through me from my memories.

No, I already have the answer.

I know what I need to do.

"Okay," I finally concede. "I'll come. But for the record, I'm keeping my camper."