The Women of Custer City Ch. 06-07

Chapter 6

The moments after I saw Amanda were a blur. I don't remember what I said, or even leading her inside. When I stepped into the driveway, I'd been close to sleep and empty, but seeing her made my heart pound. I was excited, of course, but terrified. I didn't want to drive her away.

She sat on my couch with her fingers interlaced around her knee. I brought her a mug of hot cocoa, and she wrapped herself in a thick wool blanket.

I stared at her as she sipped. Deep pouches ran under her bloodshot eyes, and her hair was unkempt, haphazardly thrown into a loose bun. She looked around the room, curious about the smashed tv and the mess, but she kept her lips pursed and contemplating.

"It's really good to see you again," I tried. I sat on the couch next to her, but kept my distance.

"Charlie," she said, her voice tinny and distant, "Every day is exactly the same. I'm so tired all the time. I'm losing my goddamn mind."

Helpful words didn't come to me, so I kept on looking at her. I tried to look as solemn as I could, my face full and understanding.

"I can't do anything productive," she said, "I've cleaned my house, cut my hair, left town; no matter what, everything goes back, exactly the way it was before."

Amanda took another gentle sip, but as she finished, her eyes glanced over at me. The cocoa left a residue mustache above her lips, and her eyebrows were raised, "How long," she asked, "Have you been living like this?"

I took my time responding. I thought for a moment, but also watched. I saw the way she shielded her face behind the mug, and how high she raised her eyebrow. I saw the concern in her eye and knew for the first time she was truly considering that this was my reality.

"It's been at least a decade," I said.

Amanda hid behind her palm and I took a moment to inch closer. I slid onto the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She kept her head down, her hair draping over her forehead, and I brought my voice to a whisper, "Amanda," I said, "I'm sorry. You deserved the whole truth."

She took her time looking back up in me, but her eyes were just as red as the moment I first saw her.

"There are countless others trapped, just like you and me," I said, "Everyone's stuck living the same day over, and over, and over, and the only way out is to finish. I'm sorry, but Amanda, I did mean everything I said."

She kept her hands to herself, but for just a moment I thought she leaned a little bit closer towards me. "I've had the biggest crush on you, literally for as long as I can remember," I said, "I meant every word of that, and I was absolutely terrified of ever telling you. That's why I took so long."

Amanda looked away again, and swatted a loose piece of hair from her eyes. When she spoke, her lips barely moved and the sound came out muted, but I heard every word, "I meant what I said too."

I gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze tighter to my chest, and tried to find my next words. I took my time, listening to her breathes and hearing the gentle buzz of something in the distance. When I looked down, I saw the back of her head and couldn't stop myself from burying my chin into her hair.

"Adjusting is hard," I said slowly, "But I do want us to be together, or at least try, just know, I need to keep moving forward. It's literally the only way."

Her head shook gently under my chin, "That means more girls?"

The only answer I could find was a gentle nod.

Her voice had gone stoic when she spoke again, "We can try."

"Amanda," I said softly, "I'll be there for you, every single day. As long as we're together, it's always a new day right?"

She still didn't answer so I gave her shoulder a jostle, like a car hitting a pothole.

The two of us sat in silence, while my mind searched desperately for something to say, anything. "I can say I'm sorry again," I finally decided, "I'm sorry. It sucks that we all have to live like this."

Amanda cut me off, "How long did it take you to adjust?"

"What do you me-"

"To all of this," she asked, "knowing that any new relationship is meaningless, every conversation forgotten. No progress ever. How does that ever become normal? When did you stop feeling so goddamn crazy?"

I leaned back against the couch and our shoulders separated. She turned slightly to see where the pressure had gone, but looked away just as quickly. I took a deep breath, and thought about reaching out to stroke her back but stopped my hand. "After craziness," I sighed, "Comes derealization. I literally spent two years going through life in motions. I was suicidal, but suicide just woke me back up. I didn't have a single meaningful relationship, no one who ever remembered my words for two whole years."

She leaned forward from the couch, her torso as far away from me as she could get.

"But you're not alone," I said. I tried to make my voice as soft as possible, "For starters I'm here, I have friends that I'm sure would take you in, talk to you. I know there's whole groups of people in the loop. You don't have to be alone."

She sat back against the couch and I felt the pressure of her shoulder blades on my forearm.

"And tomorrow," I continued, "We'll do something special. Anything you want. Besides, we always take a day off after we-"

I stopped myself. My mouth hung open for just a moment as I regathered my thoughts. "Amanda," I said, "In the interest of being totally honest about everything, I was with someone before I came here. I've been miserable all month, but the other girls told me I had to move on, and she was the first person I was with since you."

Amanda's gaze remained locked forward, her eyes glossy and indifferent, "I know," she muttered, "I could smell it the second you walked in."

I scootched along the couch for comfort and brought myself closer. "Are you ok with that?" I asked.

She still wouldn't look at me, "It's not like I have a choice."

"We'll take tomorrow," I said, "Just you and I. We'll figure everything out, do whatever the hell we want to-"

"I know you have to keep moving forward," Amanda interrupted. She opened her mouth to speak again, but it closed and she settled back into my arms.

I couldn't stop the yawn from coming. The yawn turned into a stretch and my hand shot out above my head.

"Sorry," I said again, "I'm exhausted. It's been a long-"

"I get it," Amanda said, and she started to stand from the couch.

"Amanda," I said, barely catching her hand, "You can sleep here. With me."

Our hands were locked together, but her eyes were sullen, staring at me. "I promise you'll get home safe," I laughed, and it was enough to force a hint of a smile.

We made our way across the house together and climbed into my bed. I was still fluffing the pillows by the time I felt her arm across my torso. My head had barely touched the pillow when my eyelids started to shut by themselves.

I thought about saying something, I love you, It's great to see you again, something like that, but everything was still on a knife's edge, and I didn't want to risk breaking the silence.

I was out quickly, but Amanda stayed awake. She kept her hand on my chest, feeling every time I inhaled and exhaled, listened to the soft way I snored. Maybe it's not so bad, she thought, I'm with Charlie. I get to live a little longer. Things could be worse.

Her shoulders did a little shimmy as she got herself more comfortable. She let her eyelids start to fall as she listened to my arhythmic breathing, then suddenly it was morning.

Amanda bolted awake. She was alone in her own bed. Her room was a mess, filled with piles of clothes that needed a wash, and when she looked to where her hand was resting, it was only her bed. She looked around the room, and all her self talk went by the wayside. She couldn't stop herself from crying.

Chapter 7

For a moment everything had gone back to normal. Chrissy, Alley, Ginger and I all gathered around my kitchen table to work out the game plan. The only difference was Amanda, keeping her distance as she nursed her coffee, and Amber, watching everything with curious eyes.

"You're really going after a high schooler?" She asked.

"Yeah," I said, "there's fourteen or so that turned 18 already. It's gotta be done."

"But won't," Amber said, taking just a moment to consider her words, "won't that seem super creepy?"

It was Chrissy's turn to talk, "Maybe not," she said, "we're going after Hannah McKelson, captain of the cheer team. By all accounts, she's super materialistic, 18 but has her father wrapped around her little finger."

Amber snorted, taking the time to look around the disheveled house, "and what, exactly, do you think you have to offer?"

"Everything resets," I said. I took a step closer towards the table and rested my hand on the map, "money too. Ginger, you can buy that Paradox right?"

She nodded, already out the door, "And Chrissy, you can get the mansion ready, make it look lived in, right?"

She nodded and Amber looked around the small council.

"Then for you two," I said, eyes bouncing between Alley and Amber, "I need a makeover too, I need to look wealthy, like a sugar daddy or something. Her cheer tryouts end at 1:30, we've only got a couple hours, let's move."

Chrissy was already shuffling around my house, pulling framed photographs.

"There's a mansion?" Amber asked, but Alley was already running her fingers through my hair, testing the thickness.

"Kind of," I said, "It's hard to buy a mansion in a single day, but we found one out by the country club. The owners are on vacation today and we know where they keep the spare key. All we have to do is get it decorated, get rid of all their pictures, and we've got a fully furnished mansion. Movie theater, pool, the whole 9 yards."

Amber joined Alley and took a closer look at my hair. "That's incredible," she said, "you're gonna have to show me where that is one day."

"Gladly," I laughed.

Alley rested her palm on my chin, rocking my head side to side just to get a view of sideburns. "We'll need a trim for sure," she said, "probably add a touch of grey just to make you look a little older."

"What about clothes?" Amber asked, "Don't you want a suit or something?"

I stood from the chair and reached for a sweatshirt. "Chrissy's already on it," I said, "part of prepping the mansion is filling it with clothes that fit me, and my sizes haven't changed in a while."

The two followed me as we left the house and started towards my car.

"What about the approach though?" Amber asked as she took the seat next to me, "I mean you're not just going to walk up to her and say look at my car, right?"

Alley held the door while she answered, "that's the beautiful thing. Hannah doesn't have a ride home today. She goes straight out to the parking lot because her friend is supposed to take her home. Charlie will be waiting. She'll know he's there for pussy, and she'll see the car and be a-ok with that."

The door shut with a clunk and I started the engine.

"That's the hope," I said, "and Chrissy seems pretty convinced in the scouting she's done."

The three of us were off and I wove through the same traffic I'd seen a thousand times before.

"I've got a stylist," I mumbled, half trying to make conversation, half focused on the road, "she's in the loop too. I called her this morning and she'll get me right in."

The drive across town passed quickly and I parked in front of a small salon, the only vibrant sign in the strip mall. The three of us entered and were quickly greeted by Sierra. The tied her apron on as she gave Alley and I a half hug.

"Thanks for doing this," I said. I took the time to survey the small salon, glancing at the dozen or so women scattered throughout.

"Of course," the stylist said with a genuine smile, "it's always a nice change of pace, take a break from everything you know?"

She whisked me off towards a chair and ran her bandaged finger through my shaggy hair. "So what we're you three thinking today?"

"Sugar daddy," Amber said earnestly.

Sierra stifled a small laugh but took a closer look, checking behind my hair. "That could work," she muttered. She grabbed a strand and measured it out in her fingers.

"What did you mean," Amber started, "by taking a break?"

I dipped my head back in the wash basin and felt the scalding water bottle wash through my hair. I kept my eyes closed, my face straight up, but I spoke to Amber, "Not everyone hates the timeloop. In fact, there's a whole group of girls that really love living without consequences. Spend every penny every single day. Try things you'd never do in a million years, and sex with no risk and no strings attached. It really works for some."

"But you've got to take breaks," Sierra said. Her eyes were level with the top of my hair as she worked to make the first cut, "if you just go crazy every single day, life kinda just becomes meaningless."

Sierra worked the layering sheers across my hair, pulling clumps with it. She worked to form my sideburns down towards a more professional look.

"Think of it this way," Sierra said. Her hand swung when she spoke, holding out the come like a laser pointer, "Money literally doesn't matter. While you sit here waiting on Charlie, you could get your nails done, get a massage. You could get your own hair done. It might be a nice way to pamper yourself, right? But if you do it every day, it's not pampering anymore, and no matter what you do, it's just gonna reset, right?"

Amber took her time dipping her toes into an aquaponics tub. The little jets started working, and her eyes rolled back in bliss. "Still," she said, her voice a cat's purr, "I could get used to this."

Sierra stepped in front of me, and for a moment all I saw was her black apron. "You guys wanted a little grey, right?"

I agreed and Alley nodded behind her magazine. The stylist stepped back behind my head, and started pulling strands of hair into tiny pigtails.

"If you want," I said, feeling a gentle tug to bring my head back, "I can get you in touch with some of those women. They'd love to have some fun with someone else."

Amber was still rolling her feet around the massager, and her voice was still a whisper, "I might just have to take you up on that."

When the salon's door opened again, Ginger stepped through, twirling a key around her finger. I opened my eyes slowly, careful to keep the hair from my eyes, and saw the faab, midair as she tossed it towards me.

I tried to grab it from underneath the barber sheet, and it bounced to the floor with a light laugh.

"That car," Ginger crooned, "Is absolutely going to work. Like holy shit. And once I was behind the wheel, Jesus, I swear I hit 250."

Alley grabbed the keys but was already looking back at me, so laser focused on the mission. "Anything from Chrissy? We've only got an hour and a half."

Ginger reached for her phone, "Yeah," she said, half focused as she scrolled through the messages, "She said she's on her way."

"Good," Alley said, "Your clothes look like shit."

It was Sierra's turn to smile, "Your hair looks nice though."

I took a moment, admiring her work in the mirror. If I wasn't as familiar as I was with my June 16th reflection, I might not have recognized my face at all. Something about the hint of grey added an extra ten years, and the way she layered my sideburns made it look like my life was far more together than it actually was.

"Seriously that car," Ginger went on, "I mean, I wanted to fuck myself driving around in that thing."

I stifled a laugh, and shot Amber a glance, mouthing, "She's still high."

Sierra finished dusting the hair from the back of my neck. I'd barely stood from the stool when Chrissy came in, holding a suit high above her head, careful to keep it from dragging.

I changed quickly and the five followed me out to the parking lot. The car was easy to find, because it didn't belong. The paint was a glossy black, but the angles over the rear wheel wells looked like they belonged in a space-ship. The engine sat at the back of the chassis, a W-16 with a see-through glass cover. I peeked through the driver's window and saw the red-stitched, black leather racing seats, and couldn't stop my eyes from going wide.

"Make sure you get used to it," Ginger said. She took a slow loop, running her finger around the car's body. She stared as she walked, taking in every detail, every perfect fitting sheet of metal, "It'll jump on you with all that power. There's nothing less sexy than a man in a supercar that can't drive a supercar."

I pulled the hand latch, and the butterfly door swung up past my head. I had to duck to fit in, before flexing my fingers on the steering wheel.

Amber finished a lap, and stopped at the passenger side. "Can I-" she asked softly, "Can I ride along for a little bit?"

I reached across the center console and flipped open the passenger door, "Be my guest."

She took her seat with eager eyes. Her head jerked around as she took in the interior. The car smelled the same way all new cars did, just more premium. The leather finer, the marbled dashboard hand sculpted from mahogany.

"You ready?"

Amber gave a nervous nod, and the doors swung shut. I flexed my fingers one last time on the wheel, mentally preparing myself, then hit the accelerator. I barely saw the way Amber was thrown back in her seat, but I felt the acceleration. My face melt flush and hot, and my eyes started to water.

I rolled the car to a slow stop and gave Amber a laughing look.

"Holy shit," she giggled, "Do it again."

We pulled past the stop sign, and I floored it. The trees outside became a blur and I couldn't pull my head off the backrest if I tried. We drove until my white knuckles started to relax, and the nervous laughter died down.

"So there are seriously people," Amber said softly, "That live like this every single day, doing whatever they want, spending as much money as they want?"

I nodded.

"Charlie," she said, "I'll help out when you need me. I won't abandon you or anything, but if I'm gonna be here for awhile, I'm gonna enjoy my time. Seriously. Can you get me in touch with some of those girls you were talking about?"

I pulled the car to a gentle stop and gave her a half smile. "Of course," I said, "You've already helped a ton, you deserve to go be happy."

I looked back towards the road and saw the high school football field in the distance.

"For now though," I said, "I've got to go alone."

Amber stepped out slowly, but kept admiring the car. She watched as I drove away, wishing she were driving.

I pulled into the parking lot almost five minutes early. I glanced over at the football field and saw a few dozen girls finishing up their tryouts, but I turned the gaze back towards my mirror. I had to make sure I looked as cleaned up as possible, completely believable that I was a sugar daddy.

I saw the hint of gray and fixed a few loose strands. I played with my sunglasses, sliding them up the bridge of my nose and checking my tired eyes. By the time I looked back, Hannah was already waiting.

She stood with her gym bag at her feet. She wore spandex shorts that barely covered her ass, while her hip jutted out to one side. She only wore a black sports bra, and her hands were high above her head, fixing her ponytail, while her eyes were locked on the car.

I tried my best to appear confident and suave. I gave her a slow glance, then looked away, pretending she wasn't worth my time.

She took a casual step forward. Her olive skin glistened with sweat, and she brought down her arms as she looked at the car. I turned back, slowly and controlled, and she found my eyes.

"Nice car," she said. There was a confidence in her voice, an entitlement, and I took that for approval.