I was raised in this town, but I've never spent this much time on Main Street.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
We've already made two trips back to my truck, and I'm still laden with shopping bags. Josephine pokes her head inside every store—artisan soap shops, consignment boutiques, Mom & Pop bakeries—and buys at least one item, regardless of its relevance. When I suggested she stop spending her money on useless candles or jars of jam she'll never open, she bristled, stating she wanted to support local businesses.
Her heart is in the right place, but my arms are paying the price. I don't appreciate not being able to use my hands, or access my weapon, so we swing by the truck again, and I add to her haul.
My hometown is nestled along the perimeter of Naugatuck State Forest. Our population is so small, we aren't even listed on maps. It's the cliché village where everyone knows everyone, and outsiders are ogled. Josephine already has the glamorous looks and vivacious personality that attracts attention, so she's literally been stopping traffic. Farmers, fire chiefs, mechanics, the mayor—they pull to the side of the road, asking me generic questions about the ranch or my job, but they're using the conversation as an excuse to stare at the woman I'm toting around.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Josephine purchased clothing from the thrift store, but I'm certain no one in this town has ever worn anything so revealing. She must've dipped into the children's section. She looks like a country pinup girl—Daisy Dukes, a paisley blouse she tied into a crop top, and white cowgirl boots. When she saw those boots in the store's window, she plastered herself against the glass, shouting, "Please, Daddy! I need them!" Two women seated on a bus bench turned their attention to us—one of them was my kindergarten teacher—and I ushered Josephine into the shop just to shut her up.
Connecticut is by no means in the South, but this town is rural and founded on Puritanical doctrines. The appearance of a celebrity—a lingerie model, no less—will have people peeking through their window curtains, hoping to get a good view. Despite the hubbub, I know Josephine is safe here. I made sure we weren't followed from Maryland. I didn't even give Aidan Allard-Reeves an address, which had him shouting in my ear until I told him it was for her security.
