So far, Miranda Jessup Buckley has been jilted, fired and left to take care of her ex-lover's child.   Mitch took exception to being left out of the loop when Miranda's  trailer is vandalized.  So he delegates an officer to stay with her.

 

 

                     *************

 

 

It is Rita who first notices the deputy's car in the parking lot.  Whoever it is, just sits there, staring at the building.

 

It's creepy.  I didn't feel like a sitting duck until now.  

 

"This is just silly," I say, as both of us stand at the glass door and spy on him.  "I'm gonna go call Mitch and tell him to send this poor guy home."

 

Rita grabs my arm.  "No.  It's the first time I've felt safe since that person shot through the door."

 

There's a part of me that feels bad.  I hadn't really thought about Rita.  I've been so focused on my own chaos that I didn't even think how she or Matt were affected.  Despite being completely against a uniformed babysitter watching me, I can't be selfish.  If Rita wants him to stay, then he stays.

 

"I think Mitch really likes you."

 

I glance over at her. "Maybe."

 

"He looked real worried about you when he was in here earlier."

 

"He was pissed I didn't go running to him."

 

"What happened?"

 

"Some joker spray painted a dirty word on my trailer."

 

"Was it the F blank blank K word?"

 

I suppress my laugh.  Rita doesn't cuss.  Never met anyone like her. She says dang it and shoot and fudgecicles when she gets upset.  I, on the other hand, just let colorful words fly.  "No.  Just whore."

 

She folds her arms across her middle.  "That's disgusting.  Why would somebody do something like that?"

 

"Beats me."

 

"I'm gonna go sit in the office and eat my sandwich," Rita says, turning to go towards the back.

 

"That's fine.  I think I'll take something out to our babysitter."

 

Grabbing an ice cold drink from the cooler, and a bag of chips, I head out to the poor, bored deputy.

 

He rolls the window down just enough to reveal his mirror aviator glasses and not much else.

 

"Brought you a snack." I hold the bottle in one hand and the chips in the other.

 

"Thank you, ma'am."

 

"Feel free to come in the store and use the rest room.  Or to take a quick drive if you're bored."

 

He nods, reaches for the bounty I'm holding, and without hesitation he says, "Yeah, the sheriff said you were gonna try to run me off."

 

I press my lips together.   "I'm not doing that at all.  As a matter of fact, you can tell the sheriff that I'm very thankful you're here.  Both Rita and I feel quite safe."

 

He regards me silently.

 

"So, thank you, you know, for your service.  And for being here."

 

Whoever he is, he has the personality of a stump.  I hear him closing the window as I walk back to the store.

 

 

                   ***************

 

By the time I take my lunch, I've accepted the presence of the deputy.  He came in once to use the bathroom, skirted the perimeter of the store, said nothing then returned to his car.

 

"He's not real friendly," Rita says, after her genuine smile went either unnoticed or just not returned.

 

Not smiling back at Rita is like walking past a crate full of puppies without so much as a glance.  It's not natural to ignore it.

 

I call Momma to ask her about running to my house to stay with Waylon.  I'm hoping that Aaron has been able to take care of the graffiti.   I can only imagine how Momma will react if she saw that written on my siding.

 

"Everything okay?"

 

"Yes.  Some kid spray painted my trailer."  I say it as non-chalantly as possible.  

 

"Whose kids are these?"  

 

"There's a one in five chance they're Farley's."

 

We both laugh.  If I say who I really think it is, she will just worry.

 

"My neighbor, Aaron, said he'd take care of it for me.  Which is good because I can't afford to get the whole thing repainted."

 

"I'll fix dinner for Waylon.   Does he like lasagna?"

 

"There isn't much he doesn't eat.  Thanks, Momma.  I appreciate you doing this for me. "

 

"Has Dougie sent anymore threatening texts?'

 

"No.  At least, not since last night.  And, I swear I don't think those were from Dougie."

 

"I certainly hope not.  Even though I wasn't a big fan of Dougie's, he was always polite.  Those texts seemed very out of character for him."

 

I glance at the clock.  Lunchtime is over.  "I'll talk to you later, okay?  And, thanks again."

 

I hang up and sit back in the chair.  Today has been a roller-coaster.   Don't get me wrong, I love a good roller-coaster.   Love the feeling of free fall on the tallest hills.  Love the whips and turns.  But I know it's an adrenaline rush that will last for about two minutes.  I'm strapped in safe and sound and there are always others around me.

 

Today I feel like I'm trapped on the ride.  The attendant has walked off and left me.  I keep hitting the same hills but I can't help but notice bolts and bits of track are separating. How long before the car I'm sitting in goes over the edge.

 

I look at the monitor and watch the deputy's car.  I know I should feel safe.

 

But I don't. 

 

 

To be continued ...