Chapter 9 - Lowyn

When I pull into the back alley behind McBooms on Thursday afternoon I am greeted with the sight of Collin Creed's Jeep, and the man himself, leaning against the driver's door with his arms crossed and his shades down. He's grinnin' at me.

I smile back at him. It's hard not to get excited about his return. I mean, we were fated to be together and we made all those plans back when we were young. Maybe this is just how it was supposed to be?

He goes one way, I go another, and we meet up later in the middle.

We are different people now. But not so different, either.

I spent all of today thinking about him. He's stayin' at my house. We're living together. In his childhood home, which I have redecorated to look like we're living back in a better time.

It's… kinda dreamlike, if I'm being perfectly honest. A little bit magical too.

Growing up in Disciple isn't like growing up anywhere else in the world. There's something special going on here in the Trinity Towns. I mean, I know it's all a show. I know the motorcycle club that runs Revenant isn't really full of murderers. It's an act.

And I know that the farmers who plow the massive gardens with horses in Bishop go home every night to wives who work online and kids who own cell phones. It's an act.

I also know that no one in the Revival is as pious on the inside as they seem on the outside. Hell, almost no one in Disciple even believes in God.

It's an act.

But I also know that you don't want to cross those men in that motorcycle club, and those farmers really do grow food for the whole town, and the preacher standing behind that pulpit in our Revival tent really can bring out the magic.

It's much more than an act. It's something bigger. Something you do not find in other places.

Collin Creed is a man much like these towns.

One of a kind.

Before I even have my engine shut down, Collin is at my door, pulling it open for me. "Welcome home. Did you find anything good?"

I found you, Collin. That's what I want to say, but I don't. Instead I say, "It's really heavy. You might need to call a few friends."

"Woman, what did you buy?"

God, I love the way he talks. That mouth of his, it's always been what attracted me most. I have a sudden urge to kiss him. Just… place my hands on his face, and pull him close to me, and kiss him like we're still in high school.

Instead, I get out and walk to the back of my trailer, where I key in the code to unlock it and pull the doors open. "Ta da!"

"Holy hell, what is that?"

"A woodburning cook stove!"

He laughs. "Do people still use those?"

"Over in Bishop? Are you kidding me? Alice—she runs the bakery inside the Colonial perimeter, remember her?" Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. "She's been lookin' for one of these for two years. It needs some tender loving care, for sure. But I'm about to make her scream in delight."

In the end, Collin Creed does not need to call friends to help him move my new stove. His mind comes up with a plan that involves four solid-top dollies and together we maneuver the stove up the ramp and into the backroom of my store.

When we finally get it in place, we're sweaty and huffing. Smiling and happy.

He tilts his head at me. "What?"

"Nothin'. It's just… I can't believe you're here."

"Yeah, me either. It's as weird as the bad acid trip I never had as a teenager."

I laugh. This man's mouth, my God. "For sure, Collin. For sure. Well, should we load the trailer back up and take my stuff over to the Revival?"

He sighs, like he'd rather do anything else but that. But he says the exact opposite. "Tell me what to do."

It takes a little over an hour to load the trailer back up, so by the time we get it over to the tent, it's full-on evening. And supper time during Revival set-up is a catered event because no one gets to go home to eat. We usually work well into the night, trying to get everything just right, or as near as to perfect as we can, because people show up early for opening weekend.

There will be no preaching on Friday, but all shopping booths will be open from nine a.m. to six p.m.

"I hope you have reserved your lane at the bowling alley, Collin. Otherwise, we will not have our standing date tomorrow night."

We're at the buffet table inside the main tent grabbing barbecue. He gets ribs and I get chicken. And then we take our plates over to one of the tables set up for just this occasion, and have a seat.

"Amon's in charge of the bowling alley arrangements. But I'm pretty sure he's on top of it. He seems to be on top of everything around here these days."

"Hmm. I detect a hidden meaning inside that statement. What's he up to?"

"Aside from signing us up for security?"

"Aside from that."

"I'm not sure." His face makes a look of concern. "I want to tell you something, but I'm not sure if I'm allowed."

"Interesting. Did you sign an NDA?"

His eyebrows go up. "Did you?"

I giggle a little. "I did not."

"But some people do?"

"I don't think so. It was just a question."

"Well." He looks around nervously. Then he lowers his voice. "Jim Bob offered us a… a kind of bonus contract."

"Oh, that."

"You know about those?"

"Yeah. Pretty much everyone gets one eventually. You have to prove yourself. But come on, Collin. You don't really think people work this hard just for twenty or thirty thousand dollars? If you own a business in town, you get a bonus offer."

"So you get one?"

"I was offered one, but I didn't take it."

"Why not?"

"Because I make more money than I need."

He tsks his tongue at me. "Oh, Lowyn. You're just…"

"Stupid?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "Good. I was gonna say good."

"Did you take your bonus?"

"I signed the fuckin' contract, but we have to work for a year to be vested. But now that I know that you didn't take yours, I would feel like a first-class asshole if I were to take mine."

"Well, don't let me stop you. I'm kinda rich, Collin. I really, truly don't need the money."

"Ya know…" But he stops.

"What?"

He opens his mouth to finish his thought, but at the same moment, a group of kids come up to me and interrupt the moment. Two girls giggling. Two boys pretending to be brave. Bonnie, Lydia, Matthew, and Mark. They've been assigned to me this season as helpers. I know it, and they know it, but this is the first time they've actually had to talk to me, so they're nervous and it takes about twenty minutes for us to sort out the details back in my tent. By that time, whatever Collin was going to say to me isn't forthcoming.

What did I miss? What was he gonna say? What kind of poetry was gonna spill past those lips?

I wonder about this as the evening turns into night and the night gets old. Collin helps me set up—I put him in charge of the two boys—but then he's called away by Jim Bob, so when I finally have the booth in order almost an hour later it's nearly ten o'clock at night and I need to go looking for him.

Not that I require a ride home. Every house in Disciple is just a few blocks away from the Revival grounds and mine is no different.

But he's staying with me now. Shouldn't we go home together?

I can't quite wrap my head around how we got into this position, but honestly, it feels very inevitable.

I find Collin leaning against a post inside the main tent. There's a little meeting going on between Jim Bob and Simon, the preacher. Collin has a severe scowl on his face and he's not even taking part in the conversation. So when he sees me, he pushes off the post and starts heading my way without a word to the other two men.

"Collin." Jim Bob calls after him.

Collin doesn't turn. Just growls over his shoulder. "I'm going home. I'll be in tomorrow at eight thirty." Then he pauses, just a few paces off from me, and turns to face Jim Bob and Simon. "For security."

"Fine, fine." Whatever they were talking about, Jim Bob gives up.

Collin puts his hand in the small of my back, leading me back the way I came in. When we're outside the tent he sighs. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Rescuing me."

"What was going on in there?"

"Never mind. He's just pulling my strings. And if he keeps doing it, I won't honor that contract."

"He wants you to preach, doesn't he?"

"It's not gonna happen. That's not why I'm here. And it's not fair for this place to have expectations of me about this Revival stuff. I don't want to walk that path. I don't want to be my daddy."

"I know." When he was young, because his last name was Creed and his daddy was literally the star of the show, he was required to sit up there on the stage and play his part as… disciple, I guess.

I used to love watching him up there. It was the highlight of my weekend, if I'm being honest.

But I guess, now that I'm older, I see his point.

It's not fair that we're all connected to this thing and the part we play is determined by bloodlines.

Our family was never in the spotlight like that, so I never cared much. But it was different for Collin. Much different.

We've reached my truck and he opens my door for me. It makes me wonder if he's just remembering his manners, or if he took them with him when he left. Did he open every woman's door? Was he always a gentleman with them the way he is with me?

I'll never ask him that question, of course. But I still wonder.

We go back to McBooms so he can pick up the Jeep, and then he follows me back to his house.

My house.

His house.

It's a little bit crazy that it worked out this way.

When we walk through the door, I'm not sure what to do. So I just start asking questions. "Did you sleep in your room last night?"

He puts his keys on the counter. It's not the same counter that was here all during his childhood. It's all new. But it's in the same place, so this one act—of putting his keys in a familiar place like it's a habit—makes the whole thing even weirder.

"Nah. I slept on the couch." He nods his head to the living room.

I look over there, but don't see any evidence that he slept on the couch until I spy a duffle bag set neatly against the wall near the opening to the hallway. "Is that where you're gonna sleep tonight?"

His grin is immediate. "That's the second time you've invited me up to your bedroom, Lowyn McBride."

I didn't mean it as innuendo, but it definitely came out that way. I want to say something clever back. Maybe even something flirty. But I can't. So I don't. I just… stand there. Unsure what happens next.

Collin can read a room. So he does that thing he does, trying to smooth over rough edges. "Yeah. I'm gonna sleep on the couch."

He looks disappointed, but only for a moment. That's not his style. Not at all. Collin Creed isn't a beggar. And he's polite to a fault. Even if he wasn't all these years he's been gone, he's reverted back to that nice young man he was a teen. And he's not going to pressure me, or make me feel guilty, if I'm not sure where this is going.

Truthfully, I know damn well I will be sleeping with Collin Creed. And it's probably gonna happen sooner rather than later. But tonight it's late, and I'm tired, and I don't know how to have the conversation that we must have before anything can go any further.

So I just walk to the stairs on the far end of the living room, and start up them. But when I get to the top I stop and look down. He's not there at the bottom. "Good night, Collin."

"Good night, Lowyn."

He hasn't moved. But he was waiting.