Last Turn Home

Chapter 4 - Sleep in Peace Tonight

CHAPTER 4

CARLY

It was weird to walk by the barn and catch his truck parked out front. It wasn't the same truck he used to drive – that old thing was better off as parts or in a junkyard somewhere – but it was still his truck.

Dale came to visit in the early hours of the afternoon to help me with a few chores, after which we went for a ride on horseback to check on the cattle. John was in town by then to get his things and check out of the Days Inn, so I didn't have to explain the extra vehicle parked in the driveway or the fact that I was finally renting out the loft again after protesting for so many years.

I already knew all too well he'd make fun of me.

I brought out iced tea for me and a beer for him and we sat on the porch for a while after all was said and done. The sun blazed overhead and the heat was damn near insufferable, so sitting in the shade with a cool drink was a huge relief.

"Are you goin' to Buck's tonight?" Dale asked, speaking of the tavern in town that was always crowded with people come nightfall.

"No, I think I'll pass... I started readin' this book today and I'm hooked," I told him, which technically wasn't a lie. It wasn't the real reason behind why I didn't want to go to Buck's, but it would have to do for the time being.

After Dale left half an hour later I went inside to start on dinner: chicken, potatoes and steamed vegetables. I didn't defrost nearly enough chicken for two people, figuring I'd be eating alone again, so I made extra vegetables instead.

Dinner that evening was about the same as it would have been if I'd been eating alone. John didn't speak as he ate and I didn't know how to break the silence, so we listened to the voices of journalists and news anchors on TV and the sound of our clinking silverware.

"Did you do everythin' you wanted to do in town today?" I asked.

"Yeah, just about," John replied.

There was more of the same awkward silence; I glanced down and finished my plate.

"Thank you for dinner, it was really good," John said finally, the first to stand.

"Yeah," I smiled. "It's not like my mama used to make but one day I'll get there," I smiled and began to collect the dishes. "You don't have to do that," I added when I saw John do the same with his.

"I'm helpin', your mama never let me and I always felt bad," John told me.

"Yes sir," I smiled, rolling my eyes.

He reached the kitchen sink first and set down his plate and utensils, reaching for mine and taking those too. I wasn't going to let him to the bulk of the work, so I insisted on doing the rinsing and he stacked the dishwasher. When it came to washing the pots and pans I let him do the drying.

"Do you want a beer?" I asked him.

"Oh uh... nah, I'm good... Can't drink with the pain meds I'm on," John told me.

I nodded, the conversation falling flat again.

Finally, the sky an inky blue now, John retreated to the loft and I told him I'd be up in a little while. I started getting towels and bed sheets ready for him, putting everything in a white laundry basket for easy transportation. As an afterthought I added some toilet paper, two wash cloths and a Tupperware container with some homemade cookies. I slipped a spare key to the main house in my pocket to give to him.