I get about two miles in my car before I lose my nerve. Of course, Mary Pat and some of the Acorns are at the gas station when I pull in to fuel up. In my haste to get the hell out of Oak Creek, I grabbed two armloads of clothes and tossed them in my back seat. Now Mary Pat peers in the window as we both wait for our tanks to fill. She drives a hybrid, so it doesn’t take her long to wander over to me and ask if I’m headed to the dry cleaner.
“Something like that,” I say, but she frowns and nudges Lamar and Javier.
“We were just saying this was the best Autumn Apple we’ve had in years. Isn’t that right, Jav? We sold out of natural hangover remedy at the co-op.”
The graying former economics professor nods, massaging his temples. “MP and I were planning a trip out to Lancaster today to stock up on some tinctures with the Amish Apothecary we know out that way.”
I nod, thinking that sounds like a nice way to spend a lazy Sunday, actually, wondering what Hunter would have to say about herbal remedies in the age of modern medicine. Thinking about Hunter reminds me that he’s probably having makeup sex with his bitchy wife by now to avoid having to pay her his entire life. I choke back a sob and force myself to smile at Mary Pat and the guys.
“I can’t wait to see what you all bring back,” I tell them. The pump clicks off and I squint toward the road out of Oak Creek. When I reach in my pocket to grab my credit card, I see my phone has a bunch of messages from Rose. She’s got foreign dignitaries coming to town this week and I am really pleased with the research I did into foreign customs, the way I helped her craft talking points to emphasize how our Oak Creek strategic plan aligns with the Sri Lankan goals for raising well-rounded young citizens.
I’m not going to get to do this kind of work anywhere else. But I also know it’ll kill me slowly to live beside Hunter and his wife, to hear them fucking through the thin walls of our duplex. Even if they move, I have no desire to run into him on campus, and Oak Creek is a small college.
I pay for my gas and wonder whether Rose would write me a reference to get a communications job somewhere else. Maybe back in Ohio…where my parents are furious with me for leaving and my ex boyfriend could go off the rails any time.
I decide to go to the bakery and make a plan. I indulge in a chocolate muffin. “Yes, Stu. One made with wheat flour. And butter. From cows.”
The Oak Creek gossip tree doesn’t take long to shake out some leaves, and Diana stomps in the door within a few bites of my muffin. “What’s got you spooked, Baker?” She reaches for a chunk of muffin and I pull it back from her. “Oh, it’s like that, is it? Stu!” She yells for the tired baker to bring her something decadent and I start to tell her about what happened with Heather earlier this morning.
“What a frigid witch,” Diana says, chewing her croissant as Stu crosses his arms and looks pissed. “You know that’s bullshit, right?”
I shake my head. “She said Hunter changed his mind about the divorce when he learned that Heather would get long-term patent royalties.” I sniffle. “And she said he realized how much he needs her now that he’s living without furniture, with fowl flapping around his living room.”
Diana laughs. “Hunter never gave a shit about furniture. You know that by now, Abigail.”
I shake my head harder. “The day I met him, he was upset that I had his headboard from his childhood bedroom.”
She thinks about that. “I’m guessing that was more a ‘my dad made that’ thing than a nostalgic issue. Hunter only cares about tissue samples—”
“Exactly. He’s just going to live with Heather rather than let her get control of his research and ideas.” I start sobbing at the injustice of it all, wiping my nose in the wax paper that had been wrapped around my muffin.
Stu leans on the table and interjects. “Abigail, come on. You know Sara is a better lawyer than that. She’s a fucking shark. Hunter gave Heather a payout this morning that won’t even dip into his fancy protein powder funds.”
“I don’t know…”
“Look,” Diana butts back in, “I know for a fact he was at Archer’s office this morning signing papers, because he went to my parents’ house to build a chicken coop afterward and my dad said he was actually whistling. Dad’s back there now preparing a feast for the Sri Lankans. We can go ask him if you want?”
“Hunter was whistling?” I begin to wonder if Diana’s words make sense. Surely if Hunter were being forced to choose a loveless marriage with his mean wife, he wouldn’t be whistling about it.
I’m just so used to being denied the things that I find meaningful—the things I love. I let Diana guide me to the Crawford-Mitchell house, not quite wanting to cling to the hope that this could all be a misunderstanding calculated by a bitter woman.
As Diana and I walk through the back garden, we can smell heaven and hear chaos from inside the house. Daniel stands at the stove whisking madly, hollering to Rose in another room of the house.
I hear her dragging furniture, shouting about the Sri Lankan delegates and their preferred sleeping arrangements. “Would it kill you to give me more notice for these things?” He shouts. “Or better yet, house them at the Inn where Indigo is prepared for hospitality?”
“Daniel, I’ve told you a hundred times. When I succeed at these efforts, you get laid!”
Diana slams the door shut, interrupting her parents. She mimes gagging at me but pulls me further into the house. “Dad,” she said. “Stop stirring the roux and tell Abigail everything you know.”
“Oh, hello, dear,” Rose says, walking into the room. “Hunter thinks you’re in Ohio. He’s gone there with his astronaut friend.”
Archer, Diana, and I jog over to the high school when Archer gets a text that Hunter is on his way back. Archer confirms what Diana suggested, that Heather was trying to get Hunter back and didn’t succeed, so she lied to me, hoping to get in one final dig before leaving Hunter’s life for good.
My relief at hearing this is dwarfed by my sense of overwhelm that Hunter has gone to Ohio in search of me, gone to speak with my parents. What must they have thought of him, showing up out of the blue, with nobody to explain his brusque personality. “Oh, lord, Hunter interrupted football Sunday,” I say, looking at Diana tearfully. “Wait. Why are we at the high school?”
Diana points to the sky, where I can see a helicopter approaching. “My brother called in a favor with the outer space dorks,” she says, shouting above the noise. “These guys have fancy toys.”
I slam my hands over my ears as the aircraft sets down on the lacrosse field. The pilot kills the engine and the blades slowly stop whirring. I squint through the cloud of dust that’s been kicked up, to see Hunter in the co-pilot seat and…”Mom? Dad?”
My parents tumble out of the plane and come jogging over to me. My mom pulls me into her arms, sobbing, and my dad starts screaming that he is going to kill Jack just as soon as he lays eyes on him. This is certainly not the reception I anticipated from my parents, and I can’t control my emotions as tears well up in my eyes. I let them fall as I sink into my mother’s arms. From the corner of my eye I see Hunter, standing with his hands in his pockets, looking at me hopefully.
Once the blades of the helicopter finally slow, the pilot wags his eyebrows toward Diana. “You Crawdad’s sister? I’m Digger. He tell you about me?”
“Don’t waste your breath,” Diana scoffs. “Come on, guys. You’re attracting a crowd.”