The Opportunist
Page 34We pull into our temporary gravel driveway around nine and begin lugging our supplies into the tent. I set up inside, stripping our new sleeping bags of their tags and arranging them on opposite sides of the small space we are sharing. I glance outside the tent and see Caleb arranging logs to make a fire. After a moment of watching his strong arms tug and pull, I yank the sleeping bags closer together. I might as well stay as close as I can—while I can.
Once the fire is lively and spitting, we each grab a semi-chilled bottle of beer and cozy up on our rainbow striped beach chairs.
“So does this feel familiar?” I ask, stroking Pickle’s head. He furrows his brow and shakes his head.
“No. But, it feels good. I like being here with you.”
I sigh. Ditto.
“What are you going to do about your apartment?” he asks not looking at me.
“Start new I guess. I don’t really want to think about it. It’s depressing,” I pull the lid off of the can of boiled peanuts and fish one out.
“We can both start over,” he flips the cap off another bottle of beer and lifts it to his lips. I watch him quietly waiting for him to continue.
“I’m going to start living my life the way I want to live it,” he tells me. “I’m not really sure who I was before the accident, but by the looks of things I was pretty miserable.”
I down the rest of my beer and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I wonder idly if he was miserable because of me. Was it possible that right before his accident that he was still affected by my betrayal?
I think of Leah and I wonder if she is waiting at his condo, waiting to crack me open like the bad egg I am. Maybe I should have let it happen. It would have expedited the inevitable. I could tell him right now, but then I’d have to share a car with him back to Florida. Eight hours of torture. I deserve it. I open my mouth, the truth burning behind my lips to be let out. I can say it all quickly and then take cover. I toy with the idea of calling Cammie to come get me. I look at Caleb just as he stands up and stretches.
“Bathroom?” he says, scratching his chest. I point to a building that sits like a grubby egg-carton in the middle of the campgrounds. It is communal and it stinks like bleach. I watch him until he disappears into the building and go to the car to look for the bag of dog food that we bought. I am digging around in the backseat when I hear a rattling noise. I pull myself up and peer over the seat. His phone is lying on the passenger side floorboard. It is vibrating and from where I am I can see the name “Leah” flashing on the screen. Glancing over my shoulder I check to make sure he is still in the bathroom and snatch up the phone.
“Olivia?” I spin around. My heart is beating so fast, I can feel it pounding in my kneecaps. Did he see what I did?
I open my mouth to make some excuse, when he interrupts me.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he says.
A walk.
“A walk?”
“It’ll warm you up,” he holds out his hand and I take it. I have once again escaped the inevitable.
I grit my teeth as we walk. This whole escape-by-the-skin-of-your-teeth scenario was getting old.
Caleb’s phone feels like a wad of guilt against my thigh. I pray that he doesn’t see the bulge and make sure that he walks on the opposite side of where it is hidden.
Later, when we are back at our tent, I tell him that I need to call my boss.
“I need to tell her that I won’t be able to work for a few days,” I explain.
“Sure. Take your time. I’ll...uh….” He points a finger down the hill.
He pulls a face and heads off.
I wait until he is a safe distance away and I head toward the lake. My sneakers suck at the mud and make revolting noises.
My message to Bernie takes only a minute. I briefly explain about the break in and promise to call back in a few days. I hit the end button and glance over my shoulder. Caleb is nowhere in sight. I pull his cell phone from my pocket and power it on. Two messages. I jab at the voicemail key and hold the phone to my ear. A voice asks for the password. Shit. I type in his birth date and the voice tells me that the password is incorrect. I try his birth year and bingo!
First message.
“Caleb, it’s Leah. Look…we really need to talk. I have some very interesting news for you. It’s about your new little friend Olivia. She’s not who you think. Give me a call back as soon as you can,” a pause, then, “I love you.”
The second message was left thirty minutes after the first.
“It’s Leah again. I’m really starting to get worried. I’m at your place and it looks like you left in a hurry. I just really need to talk to you babe. Call me.” I make a face and snap the phone closed. She has a key to his condo. Why didn’t I suspect she’d have a key? She was probably snooping around in his apartment while he was in the hospital after the accident. The little tramp has probably already seen her ring!
I glare at the phone, weighing my options. It has to go. It was the phone or it was me.
I walk down the little dirt incline that leads to the water’s slimy edge and watch the mosquitoes dance drunkenly along its surface.
“Leah,” I say looking down at Caleb’s phone. “Not yet.” And then I throw it into the water.
“Olivia, Have you seen my phone?”
“Shit,” I say sidestepping the brown mess that is creeping across the ground towards my toes.
Caleb grabs another can from our stash and opens it for me.
He dumps it into our hot pot.
“You can use my phone. It’s over there on my sleeping bag.”
Caleb takes two strides to where I point and lowers himself to his haunches.
“I could have sworn my phone was in the car….”
“Maybe you dropped it at Wal-Mart,” I suggest over my shoulder.
“Yeah…”