Chapter 4: The Things She Never Learned
1383 Words
It started raining around midnight.
By morning, the backyard puddles reflected the cloudy sky like broken mirrors.
Becca watched them drip from the roof of the chicken coop from behind the kitchen window.
She still hadn’t finished building it. Craig had thrown a blue tarp over the exposed wood before work yesterday.
He always thought ahead.
Always.
She smiled.
“You think of everything.”
“Talking to yourself again?” Her oldest daughter walked into the room, looping her hair into a ponytail.
Becca laughed. “I think it’s becoming a habit.”
Her daughter peered out the window.
“He covered the wood.”
“He didn’t want it getting ruined.”
“He notices stuff.”
Becca nodded. “He really does.”
Her daughter smiled. “You deserve someone who notices.”
Becca paused. She hadn’t expected those words to hit quite so close to home.
Before she could respond, her daughter grabbed a piece of toast, kissed her cheek, and skipped down the hallway.
“Hurry up,” she yelled over her shoulder to her siblings. “We’re going to be late!”
Laughter and clumsy footsteps followed her down the hall.
But her daughter’s words echoed in Becca’s mind long after the front door shut.
The Grocery Store
Becca swung by the grocery store after work. She didn’t need much.
Milk.
Eggs.
Coffee creamer.
Chicken feed…. well, not yet.
She chuckled to herself.
She didn’t even own chickens yet.
But they were on their way.
She wandered the aisles, cautiously selecting tomatoes, cucumbers, and strawberries.
Suddenly, she stopped.
A man and a woman were arguing by the apples.
The man glanced at his watch.
“How long have you been?” He asked.
“I was getting coffee.”
“You were gone twenty minutes.”
“It took me longer than I thought it would.”
“You should’ve texted me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You always say that.”
The woman turned away, dropping her gaze to the floor.
“I know.”
Becca’s heart clenched—not because she knew them—but because she knew that conversation.
She’d had that conversation.
Hundreds of times.
Slowly, without meaning to, she stopped walking.
The woman glanced up. Their eyes met.
For a moment.
Something flickered between them.
No recognition.
Something else.
Something unspoken that women somehow knew when they looked at each other.
Before she knew it, the couple had walked away.
The female pushing the cart.
The man was several steps in front of her.
Becca stood frozen until someone grabbed her shoulder, reaching around for a bag of oranges.
“You, okay?” The man asked.
Becca blinked back to reality.
“Oh. Yes.” She lied.
She wasn’t, though.
Not really.
Old Echoes
The ride home took forever.
Every light seemed to last minutes.
Every mile dragged old memories from the back of her mind.
“How could you be gone so long?”
“What were you and him talking about?”
“You don’t think that really happened, do you?”
She gripped the steering wheel tighter.
“No.”
Becca whispered. It had to be something she believed, not something she said aloud.
“No more.” She clenched her eyes shut.
It wasn’t happening now.
Those memories were just echoes.
Echoes didn’t have the power to hurt her unless she opened the door and let them back in.
Craig Notices
She hadn’t even parked when Craig pulled up behind her.
He hopped out of his truck, holding a small toolbox.
“I thought the rain might have loosened up one of your roof braces.” He said as he jogged towards her.
She gave him a half-hearted smile.
“Probably was.”
Craig examined her closely.
“You alright?” Damn it. Here we go.
Why did he always ask her that?
She could’ve lied. She really could’ve.
Instead…
She surprised herself by being honest.
“It’s been a rough afternoon.”
Craig’s lips twitched into place, not quite smiling.
“I’m sorry.” She spoke.
She waited for him to apologize for asking.
For asking about her day.
Instead of giving her space, telling her he understood…
Craig simply sat down in the passenger seat.
The Story She Never Told
They sat on the back porch, watching the rain peter out to a gentle sprinkle.
Earth hung heavily in the air, mixing with the petrichor.
Neither one of them said much for a while.
Eventually, Becca took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I saw a couple fighting at the grocery store today.”
Craig stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue.
“A husband, mom thing. The husband was interrogating her about where she’d been.”
She paused.
“It sounded so familiar.”
Becca took another breath, trying to keep her voice steady.
“It sounded… like my life used to.”
Craig rested his hands on his knees, elbows propped up.
“I hate that for her.”
“And you should,” Becca replied softly.
“I hate that for you, too. Hate that you had to live that.”
Becca looked at him, eyebrows raised.
“You know what I realized today?”
“What?”
“That I never learned what a healthy relationship was supposed to look like.”
Craig’s eyebrows rose to meet hers.
“You don’t know?”
She shook her head.
“No. And for the longest time, I thought I was just making it up as I went.”
Craig’s lips curled into a smile.
“You were figuring it out as you went.”
“You think so?”
He nodded.
“I know so.”
Craig pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get you inside. You sound like you could use a shower.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
Craig Lesson
The rain had finally stopped altogether.
Sunshine peaked through the clouds, causing the wet grass to glitter.
Craig pushed himself up from the seat.
“Come here.”
She walked behind him into the yard.
He pointed towards the chicken coop.
“Do you see that post?”
She nodded towards the corner of the coop he was indicating.
“It shifted because the ground softened from the rain.”
“Oh.”
“I could come back later and fix it.”
Craig shrugged his shoulders.
“But by then…”
“It would be crooked.”
“Yep.”
Craig smiled at her.
“So, you handle the small things now.”
He adjusted the corner of the coop, holding it in place with the level before screwing it back into place.
“There.”
Becca looked at him, genuinely puzzled.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
He looked at her, the same gentle expression she’d grown to adore these past few months.
“Things don’t stay strong when you ignore the small problems.”
Becca thought about that for a minute.
“I ignored every little c***k I saw for years.”
“I know.”
“I kept telling myself…”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
Craig finished her sentence with a nod of his head.
“And then…”
She looked out towards the house.
“Everything else leaned with it.” She finished for him.
Home
Hours later, after Craig had left, Becca brushed her teeth in front of the bathroom mirror.
She stared at herself.
Really looked at herself.
The wrinkles surrounding her eyes.
How freckles dotted her nose when she smiled.
She noted the softness that had returned to her features.
She hardly recognized the person staring back at her.
Not because she’d changed physically.
But her eyes no longer appeared exhausted.
Becca reached up and traced her finger along the cold mirror.
“You deserve this.” It felt stupid saying it.
Alien, even.
“You deserve to be loved, girl.” She said it again, this time convincing herself as much as the woman in front of her.
In the yard, the small porch light shone on the red door of the chicken coop.
Still half-finished.
Still needing repair.
But it was upright.
And so was she.
- Writer
