LITMIR.BIZ

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“Then give me a real wide berth,” she advised. “Three!”

       He nearly fell out the door.

       Conner watched as Paul Haggerty was just pulling up to the trailer. Greg Adams was standing behind his car, trunk open, cleaning his shoes with a rag he’d pulled off his golf clubs. Paul screeched to a stop and jumped out of the truck. “What the hell are you doing here?”

       “I couldn’t find Leslie anywhere in Grants Pass, and I heard she came to work for you, so I drove down,” he said impatiently. He showed Paul his golf towel. “She shot at me with the fire extinguisher!”

       Paul rocked back on his heels and laughed. He tilted his head back and bellowed. Paul was much taller and stronger than Greg. And at the moment, much happier. “Did she now?”

       “What’s going on here? Why would she do that?”

       “Because, shit for brains, she’d like you to disappear and leave her alone. I’m sure she’d like to stuff you in a hole, but since that isn’t going to happen, second choice is you go home to your new wife and leave her the hell alone. You get that?”

       Greg slammed his trunk closed. “What is the matter with everyone? I’m trying to be a gentleman! Leslie was my wife for eight years! I want to be sure she’s taken care of!”

       “Best way to do that is to skip the cheating part,” Paul sagely advised.

       “I wish I could find a way to explain about that. My whole life changed in a second and it was like… Oh, never mind, what’s done is done. I’m tired of saying that I’m sorry as all hell and would change it if I could, but some things just happen. Right now all I care about is that Leslie and I can be on civil terms. That’s very important to me.”

       Paul got in his face, which meant he had to look down a little. “You better hear this, Adams. Pay attention. Go away and leave the girl alone. Copy? Now I’m going in my office and if she’s upset or crying I’m going to hunt you down and beat the shit outta you.”

       Greg stiffened indignantly. “Threats, Paul. People get in trouble for talk like that.”

       “If I have to drive all the way to Grants Pass,” Paul added. “Get outta here.”

       Then Paul went to the trailer, opened the door and stepped up. Before the door closed Conner heard him yell, “Don’t shoot!”

       Conner chuckled and went into the new construction to gather up his belongings and lock up.

       Yeah, there were things about this place to like.

       The showdown with the ex put Conner in a very social mood, and he went to Jack’s Bar. He happened to run into Paul Haggerty, which was just perfect. Since Paul had seen Conner standing in the doorway of the house in progress, Conner asked after Leslie. “I didn’t have any details,” Conner said. “But the idea of this guy I’d never seen before going into that trailer where Leslie was alone, well, I decided to stick around to be sure everything was all right.”

       “Thanks for that, Conner. Around here it just doesn’t occur to me we have to be watchful. I guess I forget there are people around we shouldn’t trust.” It didn’t take Paul long to spill the basics of Leslie’s story, not knowing Conner heard it. “That was her ex-husband and he’s one of the reasons she preferred working in Virgin River to staying in Grants Pass, which has always been her home. He just won’t go away quietly.”

       Jack put a beer on the bar for Paul. “Shot him but he just won’t die?” he asked.

       “Something like that. But I ran him off and checked on Les. She was a little pissed, but fine.” He grinned. “She turned the fire extinguisher on him.”

       “No kidding?” Jack asked with a laugh. “I knew I liked her.”

       During the course of the conversation, Paul mentioned that he’d rented Leslie a little house he’d fixed up and it was just a couple of blocks from the bar. And then, beer done, it was time for Paul to get home to dinner.

       Conner had his dinner at the bar, and when he was finished and it was time to go home, he just couldn’t shake off that social mood. He had an irresistible urge to check on Leslie himself; he just couldn’t talk himself out of it. He drove around town, and it didn’t take long to spot her yellow Volkswagen SUV in front of a small house. He parked on the street behind it and went to the door.

       She opened it and tilted her head at him. “What are you doing here?”

       “I was watching the trailer today, making sure the guy in the shiny Caddy wasn’t giving you any trouble.”

       “You were?”

       He nodded. “I was headed over to ask you something when he pulled up and went inside.”

       She hesitated for a second. “Come in, Conner,” she said.

       “I don’t want to impose,” he said. But he entered the little house quickly, before she could change her mind. He was quite impressed. It was a very homey, attractive place that seemed perfect for her, and it was completely settled, pictures hung, framed photos on the buffet, a dried flower arrangement and place mats on the dining table, a throw on the end of the sectional sofa. He followed her into the kitchen where he could see Dan’s handiwork in the granite countertops and darkly stained oak cupboards.

       She had been sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper spread out and a cup of tea beside it.

       “So,” she said. “That was him—the cheerful ex, wondering why we can’t be more chummy.”

       “He came out of the trailer with some white foam on his pretty shoes,” Conner said, and he couldn’t suppress a grin.

       “I lost it. His utter lack of remorse, the way he takes so little responsibility for what happened, like we should all be grown-ups and overlook it. ‘But Leslie,’” she mimicked. “‘I can’t help what I feel. It’s not as if I planned for my feelings to change.’” She snorted. “Is that accurate? That we can’t help what we feel?” she asked Conner, an imploring look on her face.

       “Probably,” he said. He hooked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “But we can help what we do.”

       She took a breath. “Would you like some tea?”

       “No, thanks. But I’ll sit a minute if you feel like talking. If you want to get it off your chest.”

       She indicated the chair opposite hers, and she sat down. “I don’t know if this will make sense, but one of the reasons I took the job down here is so I could stop talking about it. Well, that’s not true at all—I was far from done talking about it, but my friends and family were done listening. Who can blame them after a year and a half? You know, I have friends who divorced, who have kids they have to co-parent with the ex, who have very manageable relationships with exes, and I admire them for it! What is wrong with me? Why am I not the least bit grateful that Greg wants us to be friends?”

       Conner shrugged before he said, “Maybe because he considers himself totally justified?”

       “You’re right. That whole business of how he just couldn’t help himself, he had no control—that’s what makes me feel like crap!”

       Conner smiled at her.

       “Should you smile at me when I say I feel like crap?”

       He shook his head, but the smile remained. “I was just thinking, I’m not making any excuses for him—he’s a dog—but that feeling? That you just can’t help yourself? That’s a feeling I like.”

       “Is that a fact?” She braced an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand.

       He nodded. “Yeah, it’s good. I can still control my actions when I feel that way, however.”

       “And you do that, how?”

      

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