Brady
"I can't believe you've never seen a taffy puller before," Collins said to me as we watched Hugo—said taffy puller—load the hot, sugary, salty paste onto a metal spike sticking out of the wall of the taffy shop.
I'd never seen the taffy being pulled, but in a way, I had seen the inside of the Sweetwater Taffy Shop. It was part of Collins's feature. Now, every time I saw a place I saw in the magazine, I wondered who the subject was—their story and why Collins chose to take their picture.
"I've gotten the Sweetwater Saltwater Taffy at the grocery store, Collins," I told her.
"Going to the shop is like a rite of passage for living here, Brady," she said. "It's literally a seven-minute walk from your front door. I'm not asking you to go to the factory." It felt like there was an unspoken yet at the end of that sentence.
"What's the difference between the taffy store and the grocery store?" I asked.
"The vibes!" Collins exclaimed like I'd asked her the most ridiculous question ever. "The aesthetic! The taffy puller!"
"What's a taffy puller?"
"Who's the taffy puller is a better question," Collins said. "His name is Chayton. The taffy at the factory, which is what you get at the grocery store, is pulled by a taffy puller machine. All the stuff you buy at the store is hand-pulled by Chayton and his daughter."
"I didn't know that was a thing," I admitted.
"Because you've never been to the store!"
God, she was ridiculous. I loved it. "Fine," I relented. "We can go to the goddamn taffy store."
And now we were here, and I was watching Chayton with stars in my eyes, I was sure. It was actually kind of fascinating—the taffy pulling process, I mean. It was crazy to see how it went from this giant sugar slab to a tiny, chewy piece of taffy.
I heard the shutter of Collins's camera, and my smile widened.
Her camera had been attached to her over the past week.
She kept it on her at all times, and even though I didn't know how I felt about being her subject—at least one of them—I loved that she was taking pictures freely again. It felt like a big step for her.
Collins listed off a few flavors of taffy to Chayton when he had a break in pulling. "Lots of chokecherry cream, please," she said.
"What's a chokecherry?" I asked.
"It's the small, dark berry plant you see in the forests during the summer. There's a variation of them that's native to Wyoming—and it's the best flavor of taffy. Isn't that right, Chayton?" Collins asked.
"That's right, Miss Collins," Chayton responded as he put a twist tie around our bag and slid it across the counter. I handed Chayton some cash, and Collins and I headed out.
"Can you imagine how strong he is?" I asked as we walked back to the shop. "I don't know if I would survive five minutes of taffy pulling."
"Have a little more faith in yourself," Collins said. "I bet you could do five minutes." I slung my arm around her shoulders and went to noogie her head with my other fist for the comment, but a woman's voice cut through the cold air.
"Brady?" I went still. No. She couldn't be here. I looked down at Collins, who was unaware of who exactly was standing outside my shop.
"I'm sorry," I said to her. "I'm so sorry." I looked at Jackie. Her blond hair fell over a coat that cost more than the entire building I lived in. "What are you doing here?" I asked, genuinely confused. Was she here for me? How did she find me? She couldn't send an email or something first?
"Hi," I heard Collins say next to me as she reached her hand out. "I'm Collins."
"Jackie." I put my hand on the small of Collins's back, and I felt her still.
"What are you doing here?" I asked again as Collins said "N-nice to meet you." Her voice was shaky, and I wanted to shield her from everything. Jackie being here wasn't a good sign—for anyone.
I watched Jackie look Collins up and down. "You too," she said, ignoring me.
"Do I really have to ask a third time?"
Jackie looked at me. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here," I said. Jackie's eyes widened. She didn't know that.
"I—I'm managing a project for my father," Jackie stuttered—rare. I'd sufficiently shocked her. "We, uh, we got a signed contract back, so I just came to scope everything out, get the lay of the land."
What? No…She couldn't be talking about Toades—about the Cartwrights, could she? I felt Collins wobble, and I pressed my hand more firmly into her back, doing what I could to steady her. Her face had gone white, and her teeth were chattering.
"Let's go inside," I said. "It's cold out here."
"Is she okay?" Jackie asked, genuinely concerned.
"No," I said honestly. "Come in. We need to talk to you about your project." Jackie folded her arms. "Please," I sighed. "It's important."
Collins pulled away from my hand once we were inside. She walked toward her desk and sat down. Her face was blank, eyes empty. I hated it. I heard Jackie's heels click on the wood floors. I hated that, too.
"How long have you lived here?" she asked, looking around the shop.
"Almost a year," I said, eyes still on Collins. "Was the contract for a Cartwright, Jackie?" I asked. "For three properties?"
Jackie rolled her eyes. "You know I can't tell you that."
"Your dad isn't here," I said. "I need to know—we need to know." Jackie blinked slowly, maybe taking in the fact that I said "we."
"What are you going to do with the information?" she asked.
"It's better if you don't know," I said. "Plausible deniability." Jackie looked over at Collins, who was still in a daze. Her eyes softened a little.
"Yeah," she said, turning back to me. "That name…it sounds familiar." I almost rolled my eyes—like she didn't know every part of the contract like the back of her hand.
"Fuck." I dragged a hand down my face and took a few steps toward Collins, and kneeled down beside her. "We're going to fix this, baby. I promise," I said softly.
"You can't, Brady," Jackie said. She wasn't being harsh or cold. Her voice was neutral, like she was just stating a fact. I hated that tone.
"They said they didn't sign anything," Collins whispered. I didn't think she was talking to either of us.
"Collins, right?" Jackie asked. Her tone shifted a little. It was kinder than it was when she talked to me, and I couldn't blame her.
"Right," Collins said without making eye contact.
"I wouldn't be here if there wasn't a signature on paper," Jackie said, verbalizing what I already knew was true.
"We'll fix it, Collins," I said again, then looked at Jackie. "I'm not letting your soul-sucking vampire of a father turn this town into a bunch of white and gray cubes that no one can afford. Not again. How did he even find this place?"
Jackie was quiet for a second. "I showed him," she said. "I saw it in that magazine you liked—the pictures of it, I mean. You left it behind. I didn't realize you moved here. " If I had been standing, I would've stumbled backward.
That meant…that meant I did this. I brought her here—I brought Ed here. It was my fault that everything the Cartwrights owned was now at stake.
"That means this is all my fault," I heard Collins say.
"No," I said immediately. "You will not blame yourself for this, Collins." I would blame myself, though. Collins looked at me and then at Jackie, who was very obviously confused.
"I—I took those pictures," Collins said. "It's my family's properties you're scoping out."
"I'm sorry," Jackie said. She sounded like she meant it. "You're a very talented photographer," she added, like that made any of this better.
"If you didn't know I moved here, why were you standing outside my shop?" I asked, feeling protective.
"I parked my car down the street," she said. "I was just walking down the main road, and noticed this window, and that's when you saw me. I'm just as surprised to see you as you are to see me, I swear." Jackie was a lot of things, but she wasn't a liar.
I nodded. "Do you…do you think you can get me a copy of the contract?"
"What? No," Jackie said. "My father would kill me."
I tore my eyes away from Collins. "Listen, I know I'm the last person on earth you would owe anything to, but you know what your dad does to towns like this. This is my home now. I know you fundamentally disagree with me on the revitalization thing,' but I need your help here."
Jackie paused, looking at me. "For her?" She nodded toward Collins.
"And for her family, and for me." I nodded. "And if this contract goes through, you'll have to site-manage the place where I live, and I will fight this project in every way I know how, every step of the way. I know neither of us wants that."
Jackie visibly weighed her options, especially the last part. "And what happens when I go home? With nothing to report?"
"Tell him the properties are a dud. Tell him this town isn't worth his time."
"Is that true?" Jackie asked.
"It's true," I said. "It's too small. My algorithm never would've picked it up because of that, and if it wouldn't have picked it up, there isn't enough money here to make bleeding it dry worth your while.
" I was doing my best to appeal to her logic.
My emotions wouldn't get to her, but facts would—I hoped.
I could see the wheels in Jackie's head turning.
After a beat, she opened the messenger bag that was slung across her body and thumbed through a couple of papers.
"I'm not giving you these," she said. "You found them—scattered along the side of the road, or something." I nodded.
"And if you say otherwise, I swear to god, Brady, I'll make sure this place gets leveled with a bulldozer tomorrow.
" Her eyes went cold. "And I keep my promises."
"So do I," I said. "And if Ed gets anywhere near this place, I will make his life a living hell."
Jackie pursed her lips and looked around the shop again, then at Collins and me. "You fit here," she said. "I guess now I don't have to wonder about where you ran off to."
I shook my head. "You don't have to pretend you ever cared about where I went," I said.
Jackie almost smiled. "You're right. I didn't. But I'm still…glad, I guess, to know you found what you were looking for." She looked back at Collins, and her expression shifted. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Y-yeah," Collins said. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," Jackie said. "Seriously, don't."
She turned to leave, but before she made it all the way out the door, Collins spoke again. "You can tell your dad there was a snowstorm. You can't get up the road in a storm—they close it down in Sulphurdale—no one in, no one out."
Once the door closed, I dropped my head into Collins's lap. Her hands started stroking my hair immediately. "I have to call Clarke," she said. I nodded. I had my own phone call to make, too.
"And I have to go to Toades. Come with me?"
Anywhere.