Scarlett Rose's Arc

Chapter 30 of 57

By the third day the calls had a shape, but the shape wasn't enough. Scarlett walked the beagle mix twice a day and heard Clayton's voice steady on the line. He said the barn was fine. He said the mare was fine. He said he was fine. Scarlett sat on the park bench with the dog on her boot and knew that word from him could mean anything. "Are you eating?" she asked that morning. "Yeah." "What." A pause. "Coffee." "Clayton." "I ate last night." "What time did you sleep?" He didn't answer. She pressed the phone against her ear and heard porch wind on his end. She pictured the hook by the door, his hat on it, the nursery down the hall standing quiet without her in the house. She pictured him opening a letter at the kitchen table with nothing on the stove. "I need eyes on you," she said. "I can't fix this from here." "I'm not asking you to." "I know. I'm asking me to." She hung up and called Rose at the aunt's house. Then she called Maya. Maya picked up on the second ring. Scarlett had leaned on her through every hard corner of the last year, and Maya had never once made her ask twice. "I need you at the cottage tonight," Scarlett said. "Bring groceries. Cook something. Tell me what's in his sink and what's in the fridge and whether he slept." "He'll hate that." "He'll eat it." "Fair." Maya's voice went dry. "You want a report or the truth?" "The truth." Scarlett walked back to the cedar street house. Aunt Lorraine was on the porch with a mug. Scarlett sat on the top step and waited. Maya called at eight that night. Scarlett took the phone into the yard. "Sink had two mugs and a spoon," Maya said. "Fridge had eggs, butter, and the casserole Rose left. Half gone. He's eating from it. He looks tired, Scar. Not sick. Tired. He's up before four working the barn so he can sit on the porch by dark to read your letter." Scarlett pressed her hand to her mouth. "I made him a pot of stew," Maya said. "Enough for four nights. I'll come back Friday. I told him I'd sit with him Saturday too. He argued for about a minute, then he asked what time." "Thank you." "He's not unraveling. He's just waiting. There's a difference." Scarlett stood in the yard and let that land. Three more days. He was tired, not breaking. She had eyes on him now. She had food in his fridge and a woman in his kitchen who would tell her the truth. She went inside and slept through the night for the first time since she'd left.