Taken By The Bull

Steve shook his head slowly as he looked down into the faces of the long-gone family, and reverentially slipped it back into his wallet. “Purely sentimental value. Symbolic, maybe. Either way, Seth was always kinda bummed out, how Dad left it to me. I think he saw it as a sign that I was the favorite. I’m pretty sure though, the opposite was true – and that’s why Dad told me to take it. He was already too far gone at the time to be asking questions about his motivations; so we’ll never know. Don’t rightly reckon it matters any more, either.”

Staci nodded, biting her lip thoughtfully. It felt a little as if she’d intruded on a private conversation, an exchange she was never meant to hear; and now she was a part of it, she didn’t know at all what she should say.. Still, in the light of his honesty, silence was not a valid option. “You’re not… upset, to give it up?”

“A little.” He shrugged, as if it was the simplest thing in the world; no big deal. Maybe Staci would even have believed it, if she hadn’t heard the way he talked about his father. “But, you saw how it fit Seth just right; it was always just a hair too small for me. Seems like it was meant to be.”

Staci paused before she spoke again; for a moment, she almost convinced herself to hold her tongue. Curiosity killed the cat, her own mother sometimes said, but satisfaction brought him back. “Your dad didn’t really say anything about giving him the ring when he got older, did he?”

Steve shrugged as he settled into the passenger seat. “Naw. But, maybe he should’ve. Don’t be telling Seth about any of that, though. Let him have a little peace of mind.”

“Don’t worry,” Staci replied as she settled her back on the seat behind, and cast a long and tender look in Steve’s direction. “I’m learning to keep a secret.”

*****

There was one more thing to do before heading off, and Staci wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. Her stomach felt heavy and sick as she passed in her room keys. “I delivered your message, Miss Wilder,” the girl behind the desk told her. Allie, Staci remembered. Her name is Allie. “It’s all set up.”

“Thanks so much. You’ve been a real sweetheart, Allie. You tell your manager that you deserve a raise, okay?”

“Maybe,” the girl replied, looking pleased and a little nervous. “I’ve been thinking though – it’d be kinda neat to take some extra classes at school, and maybe… get into doing what you do. Maybe.”

A strange sort of lump welled up in Staci’s throat; and it was hard to know what to say, for a moment. “If I can do it, just about anyone can. If – if you ever need an internship, you give me a call, okay?” Reaching into her bag, she shuffled around until she found one of her cards, caught between a bottle of water and an old purse she hardly ever used. “We can always use new people at JMN.”

“Oh – oh, wow!” Allie took the card, and held it as if it were made of thin leaf gold. “Thank you so much, Miss Wilder! Maybe I will!”

“You should.” Staci smiled as she heard Steve’s voice from the lobby, raised high in good-natured laughter. “You meet the most wonderful people.”

She pulled her wheeled suitcase along behind her as she made her way through the lobby, towards the spot by the air-conditioner where Steve and her best friend were lounging. “I’m all done here! Can you take my bags to the van, Mikey? I got just one thing to do before I go.”

Mikey paused, halfway through telling Steve a long and rather involved story about the epic pain and drama of being caught behind a tractor on his way from Jackson to Biloxi. “Sure. This about that note you passed to the girl at the front desk?”

“Oh, no, no,” she lied; from the corner of her eye she could see Steve’s gaze on her, level and thoughtful, and was sure that he had an idea about what she was about to do. She was also entirely sure that he wouldn’t even try to stop her. “I just gotta grab something from the store. I won’t be a moment.”

“Good luck,” Steve murmured. “If you can’t get what you need, then best be cutting your losses and heading back soon.”

He does know. Of course he does. “I’m an optimist,” she told him, smiling despite the nervous roiling in her stomach. “So it’s worth a shot.”

*****

It had taken a little subterfuge to set this up; but Staci was quite sure that a message from the front desk, supposedly from Steve, saying that he’d just had a fight with a departing guest and was in need of a little friendly support would bring his ex running. And sure enough, here she was, walking with a brisk step in her best heels and a winning smile that faded the instant that she turned the corner and found Staci waiting for her, instead.

“Oh. It’s you.” Was there a little guilt on Dawn’s face as she pulled her arms defensively over her chest? “Where’s Steve?”

“He isn’t coming. I’m the one that left the message.” Staci paused, biting her lip, unable to stop herself adding, “I guess you’re not the only one that knows how to use false pretenses.”

Dawn’s denial was quick, her eyes unable to meet Staci’s gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking-”

“Yes. You do.” The young reporter cut her off; quickly; firmly, but not unkindly. “Seth told us everything, and you know damn well what that ‘everything’ was. Now-” She stepped closer, holding up her index finger. “The only reason we haven’t called the police yet is because, believe it or not, Dawn? I get it. I understand. And I’m not mad at you.”

Dawn’s gray eyes shifted from the finger in her face to Staci’s eyes, cold, unmoved. “You don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know me, not at all.”

“No, I don’t.” Staci shook her head slowly as she sighed, and lowered her hand. “But I do know what it’s like, to lose someone. How it pulls you apart from the inside out, makes you do things you never would think to do. How it twists you up and eats away at your mind.” She drew a deep breath, and swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I’ve never known my father, and my little brother was shot and killed five years ago; and I will never, ever get over that. I’ve barely started to accept it. So I know. Believe me, I know what it’s like when someone who’s always been there just… isn’t there, anymore.”

“Well, I’m… I’m sorry for your loss. I really am.” Dawn’s defensive posture shifted, softened, crossed arms falling to her side. “But it’s not the same thing.”

“You’re right, it’s not. Because the person you’re grieving for is still here. I’m guessing, in some ways that makes it harder.” If this was a Hallmark movie, Staci thought, I’d take her hand, and speak softly; and maybe, we’d both end up crying together. But this isn’t a movie, and neither of us are the sort of women who would do that. “You’re a smart lady. Smarter than me, probably.”

“Can’t say I’d argue with that…” Dawn murmured, turning to stare out into the passing traffic. Staci repressed the urge to push her right into it, and carried on as if she hadn’t heard.

“He’s awful fond of you, and says he owes you a lot.” That was only partly true, but Dawn couldn’t know that. “And that’s a wonderful thing. But, like I said, you’re smart. You know that if you keep pushing, whether you’re grieving or not – he’ll end up hating you, and hating every memory that he’s got of being with you. One day, you’ll be looking back on the whole thing – and all he’ll be, is a stranger that hates you. And then you’ve really lost him.”