Old Habits

by Tabatha Kiss

  Her reaction back then was to run and hide, even from the one person she always thought she could run to. Did that reaction end up in a bin with the rest of the degraded parts? Or is it still there, connected to everything else, just waiting for the right series of events to set it off again?

  She’ll come back.

  And I’m not leaving our home until she does.

  I will sit here until I hear her key in the door again. Until she walks into this room and gives me that knee-crippling smile again. And if she doesn’t, then I will go out there, find her, and I will bring her back here myself because I will not give up on Jovie Ross just like everyone else did. Just like they all told me to do.

  A soft knock taps on the door. I bolt off the couch to answer it, kicking away the blanket as it gets wrapped up in my foot.

  I pull the door open and exhale the hope from my chest.

  “Jesus…” Sara looks me up and down. “What happened to you?”

  I glance at my wrinkled suit pants and untucked shirt. “Nothing,” I say, stepping away.

  She follows me in and closes the door behind her. “I got your message.”

  “Okay.” I sit down on the couch, sinking deep into the cushions. “Did you find someone to take him?”

  “Yeah.” I feel her staring at me. “Mom has the day off, so she’s watching him. I figured you had to take a shift so I stopped by the shop. Marv said you called in.”

  “Yeah,” I say again.

  “You sick?”

  “No.”

  She paces toward the hallway. “Passed by the toy store. Looks like Jovie didn’t show up to work today either.”

  “Don’t you have a class or something?”

  I look up and she’s staring at me like I’m some kind of wounded animal.

  “Will, what happened?”

  “Sorry I couldn’t hang with Andy today. I’ll make it up to him next week.”

  “Will.” She crosses her arms, digging her stance into my carpet. “Where’s Jovie?”

  “Do you really care?”

  Her brow rises with amused interest. “Did she leave?”

  I sit back, feeling a rush of anger but I keep it behind clenched teeth.

  “Well, it’s about time,” she says. “I told you from day one. It wasn’t if. It was when. I mean, jeez, you’d think she’d—”

  “Get out,” I say.

  “Exactly. She shouldn’t have come back at all.”

  “No, I’m talking to you.” Her face falls. “Get out.”

  Sara takes a step back. “Excuse me?”

  I stand up again. “Leave and don’t come back for a while. Don’t even call me. I don’t want to speak to you right now.”

  She grows tense. “What’s this about? Did she say something to you?”

  “About what?” I wait for her to answer but she just stares. “Go on, Sara. What could Jovie Ross possibly say to me that would make me want to kick you out of my life?”

  Her face flinches with fear. “Okay, Will, whatever it is she told you, you have to remember that Jovie is a liar—”

  “That’s enough.” I walk toward the door and she follows.

  “She’s manipulating you, Will.”

  “And what would you call what you did?” I ask. “Deception? Betrayal? Treason?”

  “Protection. You’re my little brother. I did what I knew was best for you. If Jovie cared about you at all, don’t you think she would have stayed? Wouldn’t she have fought to keep you two together?”

  “So, it was all a test? Just a thousand-dollar gambit?”

  “Yes. And she failed,” she says, her voice rising. “Jovie made her choice. She took that money and ran off because that was more important to her than you.”

  I stare at her. My sister. The stranger in my living room.

  “You paid her to get rid of my baby,” I say. “How do you justify that?”

  “If I hadn’t, she would have used it to trap you and you wouldn’t be where you are right now.”

  “No, she wouldn’t have, because she lost it…” My voice cracks and her mouth closes. “And because I listened to you and bought every word of your bullshit against her, I wasn’t there. She left because I wasn’t there for her when she needed me the most... and I’m not sure I can forgive you for that.”

  Sara’s eyes slip down as I yank the door open wide enough to let her through.

  “Now, get out,” I repeat.

  She gives me one last silent glance before walking out onto the porch. I feel her turn around to say something but I slam it closed before she can get a word in. She won’t get the last word on this one. She doesn’t deserve it.

  I return to my place on the couch.

  She’ll come back.

  Chapter 37

  Jovie

  I read somewhere that when you remember something, you’re not really remembering the event itself. You’re actually remembering the last time you remembered it. Details fade. Colors become less vibrant. Voices get distorted. It’s like playing telephone with your own brain. Sooner or later, you won’t be able to picture things the same way as you used to but you’ll be none the wiser.

  That’s what they mean when people say that time heals all wounds. Memories fade as quickly as any bruise or scar. Some take longer than others but, eventually, it all disappears because emotions, painful or otherwise, are only as present as the original event that made them.

  So, we keep mementos and keepsakes. Tie a memory to an object, something real and tangible, and that memory becomes one with that object. It can be simple. A coin or a ring.

  Or, for an average wanderlust like myself, postcards.

  I sit at the kitchen table in my father’s house with all of them spread out in front of me. Each a photo of a landmark. I made sure to pick out postcards with some significance, some memory that I could easily tie to it and recall five, ten, or even twenty years from now. Some bad. Some good. All worth remembering.

  I grew up between these postmarks. I learned how to talk to strangers in the big city. How to stretch every dollar. How to stay alive, even after the last penny was spent and all I could do to stay warm was laugh at myself.

  But there’s still so much I don’t know. The education of Jovie Ross is far from complete.

  I get up to refill my water glass and glance out the window above the sink. A tuft of brown hair pokes up and I lurch so badly I nearly drop my glass.

  “Jovie? Is that you?”

  I gawk at her. “Sara?”

  She stretches on her tippy toes. “Can you let me in? I need to talk to you.”

  I sigh with rolling eyes and set the glass down before walking to the back exit.

  “What are you doing?” I ask her through the closed screen. “We have a front door, you know.”

  She checks the bottom of her shoes for mud and leans down to swipe a dead leaf off her scrub leg. “Would you have answered it?”

  “No,” I say, truthfully. “What do you want?”

  Her head nods over my shoulder into the kitchen. “Please? It’s about Will…”

  “Is he breathing?”

  “Yes,” she answers.

  “Cool. Thanks for the update.”

  I move to close the door.

  “He told me what really happened.”

  My muscles lock as hesitation sets in.

  “And then…” she sighs, “he kicked me out of his house and slammed the door in my face.”

  “Wow. Sucks to be you,” I mutter.

  “My brother has never talked to me like that before. But, in his shoes, I can’t say that I wouldn’t have done the same. He was just protecting what’s his.” She pauses, pressing her lips together. “Can I please come in? I’d rather not discuss this outside.”

  I study her desperate face and tone. It’s honestly fascinating, like watching a bird try to swim through jello.

  “Fine,” I say, stepping back. “Make it quick.”

  Sara opens the screen door and carefull
y wipes her shoes on the mat as she walks inside.

  I plop back down into my chair at the table and quickly start stacking the postcards away.

  “What are these?” she asks over my shoulder.

  “Never mind.”

  She keeps moving to the other side of the round table, taking the hint not to ask again but she can’t help but glance at the last few remaining postcards before I can get to them.

  “Is Hank around?”

  “No, he’s at work.”

  She clears her throat. “So, I guess you and Will didn’t have that great of a Valentine’s Day.”

  I set the pile to the side. “We never do.”

  “But the dance was a smash. People really liked the band. Natalie told me that was all you…”

  I glare at her, urging her to get on with it.

  “Okay, Jovie…” she exhales, “there’s really no great way to lead into this so I’m just going to say it. You… your baby.”

  “What about it?”

  Her hands twitch at her sides. “If you hadn’t have lost it, would you have kept it?” she asks. “Even with the money I gave you to…?”

  “Yes,” I say without hesitation.

  “Really?”

  I grit my teeth. “I’m sorry, did you come here for any other reason than to humiliate me or to make me feel like dirt? Because I have better things to do…”

  “I lost a baby, too,” she says, lowering her voice. “After Andrew. It was a girl.”

  My heart clenches as she hangs her purse on the back of the chair and sits down across from me.

  “Jovie, I know that I can be…”

  “A massive bitch?”

  “Difficult. Especially when it comes to Will. Our parents were always so busy and it was on me to look after him. I went too far with you. I was young and stupid and I’m sorry.”

  “So, what?” I ask. “You discover empathy and, all of a sudden, it’s bygones?”

  She hesitates. “I’m trying here, Jovie.”

  I sit back to let her speak.

  “We’re so secluded out here that we…” she scratches behind her ear, “we get so caught up in our perfect, little lives that we tend to forget that bad things happen and often to good people.”

  I raise a brow. “Are you calling me a good person?”

  “Well, I mean…” she scoffs, “on a scale of Charles Manson to Mother Teresa, you rank okay.”

  “Oh.” I nod. “Neat.”

  “I just mean to say that if you ever need to talk to someone whose been there before, I’m here.”

  I look to the far corner of the kitchen. “I’ve kind of had a few years to digest it already, so…”

  She gives a soft shrug. “The offer still stands.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “Look, I know it’s kind of town policy to air my dirty laundry for all to see but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody about this.”

  “Of course.”

  “And please…” I pause. “Please don’t tell Will I’m here. I shut the car in the garage for a reason.”

  She nods. “He won’t talk to me right now anyway. My calls go to voicemail, he ignores my texts. Talking to you was the last resort I had to get my brother back.”

  I shake my head. “Probably going to take a lot more than a casual chat with me to do that, Sara.”

  “I know.” She bites her inner cheek. “Jovie, I am truly sorry that you never got to meet your baby… but who knows how it works, you know? Maybe you will someday.”

  I look at her, sensing real compassion from her for the first time. “Yeah. Maybe someday.”

  She fidgets for a few seconds before standing up from her chair. “Anyway, I have a lab that I’m late for, so…”

  “Sara.” She stops and turns back. “If you ever need to talk to someone whose been there…”

  I let the rest of it fade off but she nods, understanding.

  “I will,” she says. “Thanks.”

  I sit still, glancing at her dark pink scrubs as she reaches for her purse. “Hey…”

  She pauses. “What?”

  I debate the question for a second before giving in. “Where do you go to school?”

  Chapter 38

  Will

  “Will, open up!”

  I recognize Tucker’s voice. I’d hoped he’d turn around and leave after I didn’t answer his knock twice but I guess he’s more determined this morning.

  “Will!”

  He bangs harder and I grunt.

  “Tuck, it’s open!”

  The knocking stops and the knob twists, instantly opening on his confused face.

  “Has that always been unlocked?”

  I nod from the couch. “For the last two days.”

  “Huh.” He steps inside and closes it. His eyes focus on me for a second before he scans the room with his hands on his hips. “So, what ya been up to?”

  “This.”

  “You sleeping on the couch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  Because the bed smells like her.

  I sit up and scratch my shadowed face. “Just am,” I say instead.

  He exhales, hesitating for a moment. “No Jovie yet, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  “Just… no idea where she is?”

  “Nope.”

  “Or whether or not she’s even still in Kansas right now?”

  I flex. “Nope.”

  “But hey — you’re engaged. Right? She’ll probably be back by tonight. So, get up, hop in the shower, throw on some clean undies, maybe get in a shave or two, and let’s go to work.” He claps twice. “Come on.”

  “We weren’t really engaged, Tuck. It was all fake.”

  He blinks. “Beg pardon?”

  I sigh and stand up from the couch to pace around. “It wasn’t real. We just told people we were so she could get on the party committee. It was her stupid idea. She thought getting involved with the town would make people take her seriously. The funny thing is, it actually worked. People were all over her, complimenting her, thanking her…”

  Tucker’s closed fist flies at my face. I twist away out of reflex and his hand slams into the bookshelf behind my head.

  “Aw, fuck…” he groans, cradling his wrist as he slinks away from me.

  “Did—” I stare at him with wide eyes. “Did you just take a swing at me?”

  “You’re damn right I did!”

  “Why?”

  “For fake engaging my cousin, that’s why!”

  “Did you miss the part where I said it was her idea?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Then, why swing at me?”

  “I don’t know.” He winces as he opens and closes his fist. “It felt right at the time…”

  I roll my eyes and head into the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the freezer. Tucker follows me in with his head down but he keeps his distance.

  “Also,” I say, tossing it at him. He flinches but manages to catch it to numb his knuckles. “It was real to me. Hell, there was a minute during the dance when it seemed real to her, too.”

  “Then, what happened?” he asks.

  I look at him as bile from my stomach infects my throat. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s coming back, and when she does, I’m going to be here. I have to be here.”

  “Will…”

  “No. She lives here. Her stuff is here. She has to come home eventually. I am not leaving this house until she does.”

  “Okay, but…” He discards the ice pack on the counter. “Marv sent me down here to tell you that if you don’t show up to work today, he’s gonna fire you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He holds his hands in prayer. “Look, I know this shit is rough and I’m worried about her, too, but… you gotta look at the bigger picture here. You don’t have to even pick up a wrench. You’ll be on desk duty until you’re ready but you have to come in.”

  I hesitate.


  “I mean…” He shrugs. “You had to have known this was a possibility. It’s Jovie.”

  “Fine,” I say.

  Tucker heaves a thick sigh. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll go get dressed.”

  He holds up a hand. “I was serious about the shower thing.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I walk out of the kitchen toward my bathroom, briefly pausing in the doorway to our bedroom as I pass by it.

  It’s Jovie.

  Same old, sad Jovie.

  I almost expect her to be in there, sleeping soundly. But she’s not. She’s out there somewhere, alone and scared, and that’s my fault. I could sit here and dwell on that for a few more days while my life crumbles to pieces but Tucker is right.

  Bigger picture.

  ***

  The pink and red ribbons are gone.

  Valentine’s Day is over. Soon, the town will be lit up a bright green for St. Patrick’s but until then, it’s back to normal. Back to the basics.

  Just regular Clover Folk.

  I stare out the windows of the car shop from my stool behind the counter, watching each face as they pass by. A few actually peek inside the garage, no doubt looking for me. Gotta get that taste of juicy gossip between boring and mundane moments of their pathetic, little lives…

  Jesus. Maybe Jovie really is rubbing off on me.

  I straighten up as the door opens and Coach Rogers walks inside.

  “Hello, William!”

  “Coach.” I force a smile to match his own. “Van giving you trouble again?”

  “No,” he says. “I just figured I’d stop by before classes today to check in on you. See how you were doing. I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been a little MIA the last few days…”

  I glare at him. “Sex-ed and dodge ball, Coach.”

  He tilts his head. “Now, that’s a four-point frown, William. I had high hopes for that six-point smile you flashed when I first walked in.”

  “Go away.”

  “Okay. Fine. Suit yourself.” He steps back from the counter. “But, for what it’s worth… I’m rooting for you guys.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “I’ve never wanted to watch people suffer, William. I am not a monster.”

  “Does that mean you’re done with the psych profiles?” I ask.