Page 115 of Cookout Carnage
‘This is a thing of beauty.’
Sherilyn blinked away her tears. How could any of them ever forgive her?
‘He knew almost nothing about me and your ma, but he got us the perfect gifts. Those books…’ He broke off, shaking his head. ‘Your ma’s already planning the next five years of renovations.’
Sherilyn gulped a sob. ‘I’m so sorry, Pa.’
He patted her shoulder. ‘Dry your eyes, shortstuff, the creek’s full enough.’ He pulled another handkerchief out of a pocket and passed it to her. ‘That man don’t care if you were born in a barn or if every one of us looked like Fender. He’s too worried he’s not good enough for you.’
Sherilyn shook her head. ‘That’s crazy.’
Her father sighed again. ‘Did you know he was in prison?’
‘What?’
‘He went through some bad times when he was younger and started lifting cars. The time he should have been in college, he was in jail.’
The shock stopped her tears and she looked at him blankly.
He gave a rueful smile. ‘I’m not sure he and Fender should be left alone together. You never know what might happen.’
‘I don’t know if I can ever make this right,’ she whispered.
He stroked her hair as if she was a little girl again. ‘Don’t think on it anymore tonight, shortstuff. Just get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day.’
* * *
Tristan glad-handedany stranger in the church who would give him the time, helping Jonathan as the non-wedding descended into farce. The hum of conversation and the whirr of fans was a sea of white noise he let himself drown in. He had hoped to be here with Sherilyn, letting the love they shared be amplified by that around them. Right now, he felt like he belonged at a funeral.
He hadn’t reached out to Sherilyn and she hadn’t reached out to him. He didn’t know what to say. After her parents had left he’d sat and stared into space as the shadows under the trees moved slowly across the ground. Then he’d lain in bed, hugging the pillow that still had the faint scent of her and slept for fourteen hours. He was owed nightmares but his body knew that reality cut deeper and allowed him to rest. When he woke, he hovered in a soft cloud of confusion before crashing through to the ground with a sickening thump.
Guam.
This was all his fault. He’d told her he was transferring but then pulled back. He’d been hurt back in February and had reacted poorly. Why wouldn’t she take new opportunities? They were just work friends and had never even met in real life. She owed him nothing.
His phone buzzed. An Instagram direct message.
Axle Bodean: Hey Tristan? This is Axle.
Axle Bodean: You still in Fairview?
Tris: Yes.
Tris:Is Sherilyn Sherri-Lynne okay?
Axle Bodean: I’m sorry about yesterday, man. That was unreal.
Axle Bodean: When you headed off?
Tris: This afternoon.
Axle Bodean: Could you swing by Emmett’s farm first? Him, Clara, Amy and all want to see you. I can send directions.
Tris: Sorry, I don’t think I’ve got it in me.
Axle Bodean: They feel real bad about everything.
Tris:Me too
