Credence

He caps the taffy jar and moves to the gummy worms as he tosses a look over at me. I stare back. Calling me by my last name seems like it should feel playful. With him, it’s…brusque.

I let out a breath and move toward the bags, taking one for myself. “I’ll pay for it,” I inform him.

He doesn’t look at me. “Whatever you want.”

Opening the bag, I instinctively pass the chocolates and veer toward the less caloric gummy candies, loading in some peach rings, watermelon wedges, and blue sharks. I toss in some jelly beans and Sour Patch Kids, knowing I won’t eat any of this.

Absently drifting to the next cannister, I dig in the scoop and pull out a little pile of red.

Swedish Fish are filled with corn syrup, food dyes, and additives, my mother once said. I look down at the candy, once loving the way they felt between my teeth but hadn’t tasted since I was thirteen. Back when I started being willing to give up anything to make her value me. Maybe if I ate like her, wore my make-up like her, bought Prada and Chanel purses like her, and wore any garish monstrosity Versace designed, she’d…

But I shake my head, not finishing the thought. I load in two heaping scoops of the candy into my bag. Jake appears next to me, digging his hand right into the jar. “These are my favorite, too,” he says and pops two into his mouth.

“Yo, dirtbag!” I hear Spencer shout.

But Jake just laughs. I look back down, recapping the jar and twisting my bag shut.

“The bag is seven-ninety-five no matter what, so fill it up,” Jake tells me and moves around me, down the line of candy containers.

Seven ninety-five. Almost as expensive as the bottles of Swiss water my mother bathed in. How did he end up so different than them?

I trailed down the two aisles, passing the chocolate confection case and my mouth watering a little at how good I knew everything tasted.

“Ready?” Jake walks past me.

I follow him to the register, and I toss my bag on the counter, afraid he’ll try to go first and pay for me.

I immediately take out my money, and the man, Spencer, seems to understand, because he rings me up with no more than a moment’s hesitation.

I pay and back away, making room for Jake.

He rings Jake up but looks at me. “Staying up… on the peak long?” he asks, sounding hesitant all of a sudden.

The peak?

But Jake answers for me. “Yeah, possibly until next summer.”

The man’s eyes instantly flash to Jake, a look of apprehension crossing his face.

“Don’t worry.” Jake laughs, handing the guy cash. “We’ll protect her from the big, bad elements.”

“When have you ever been able to control Kaleb?” Spence shoots back, snatching the money from Jake.

Kaleb. One of his sons. I look at Jake, but he just meets my eyes and shakes his head, brushing it off.

Jake takes his change and his candy, and we start to leave.

“Thank you,” I tell Spencer.

He just nods and watches us as we leave, making me feel more unnerved than when I came in.

We climb back into the truck, and my uncle pulls out, heading back in the direction we were originally going.

The petals of the pink petunias flutter in the wind against the blue sky as they hang in their pots, and young men in sleeveless tees haul sacks of something off the loading dock of the feed store and into their pickup. I’ll bet everyone knows each other’s names here.

“It’s not Telluride,” Jake offers, “but it’s as big of a town as I ever want to see again.”

I agree. At least for a while.