by Rhea Rhea
I remember the last time I saw Tucker before I moved away. He was sitting on the hood of his car, talking to my ex Wesley. When I pulled up, Tucker slid off the hood and stared at me but never said a word. He just nodded and then got into his car and left.
“This,” he waves his hand between us, “is me finally getting what I’ve always wanted.”
“And what’s that?”
“You.” He’s voice is so serious. I know he isn't messing with me.
“Since when?”
“Since we climbed that tree,” he says pointing over his shoulder.
I look over at our tree then walk toward it slowly. I hear Tucker's boots crunching in the gravel behind me.
When I get there, I walk all the way around it and see the limb Tucker used to help me reach. I could probably climb up there all by myself now.
“Need a lift?” Tucker asks, squatting beside me, hands cupped.
I shake my head no and step away from the tree. His disappointment shows clearly on his face. We are too old to be climbing trees.
I say, “I need to go up to the house and see if Mom needs any help.”
“Alright, I'll see you around then,” he says as he turns from me and walks away.
As Tucker leaves, I look at the tree knowing what I have to do. I set off toward the house and hope that when the time comes, he follows me.
When I get to the house it looks like everything is set up for the cookout. Guests are milling around the yard. I see Tucker standing with his parents, but I'm not ready to approach them yet.
“OUCH!” I suddenly holler as I feel pinchers on me. My Pa is known for pinching. He thinks it's funny.
Laughing, Pa says “Oh, that didn't hurt, did it?”
“Yes, Pa, it did. Go pinch someone with more meat on their bones,” I say as I hug him. My Pa swears he’s 29, which is impossible since I’m 22.
He never would let me help on the farm, except to feed the calves and play in the milk barn. I can't fault him for that, though. I’m female, and his granddaughter, which means no “man's work” for me. My place was “in the house with the woman folk” as he would say. I hated that.
I have never heard any person utter a bad word against Pa. He’s very likeable, and this entire town knows him by name. Hell, half the state knows him by name, but that’s to be expected when you’ve been farming as long as he has. There is no other man on this planet that is as strong or as good as my Pa.
As if they have a mind of their own, my eyes scan the yard and land on Tucker, bringing on another memory.
“What are you doing?” Tucker scowls down at me.
“I'm gonna help you feed the calves, dummy. What do you think?” I say as I fill the bottle with formula.
“You’re not feeding calves wearing that!”
I look down at my clothes, which I didn't bother to change after school. I’m wearing a white shirt, a mini skirt, and boots. “Why not?” I reply. “I'm sticking a bottle in their mouths, not rolling around in the dirt with them.”
Tucker rolls his eyes at me and goes back to work. I don't know what his problem is. It's not like this is my first time feeding calves.
I get to see him on the days when my grandma picks me up from school. I love those days .
“Come on Feisty, it's time to eat.” Pa says as he starts over to the table where the food is set up.
I raise my head and my eyes connect with Tucker's. Has he been watching me this whole time? Does he remember that day I helped him feed? It seems so long ago. I think I was eleven at the time.
I break eye contact and start over toward the food.
“There’s my baby,” a voice calls out to me.
I turn to see Anna hustling my way. The instant I smile at her, I’m wrapped in her arms.
She says, “It's so good to see you, Brenna. I'm so glad you're home.”
“It's good to see you too, Anna. I’m only here until tomorrow and then I’m heading back to Louisville.”
Anna looks crestfallen at my announcement. “I wish you’d come back home. He's been waiting for you,” she says glancing over my shoulder. I don't have to look because I know who she’s talking about. “Come on and see John. He’ll be so happy to see you.”
I don't want to go over there where Tucker is, but I can't refuse Anna. So I follow her to where Tucker stands beside his father.
“Look who I found.” Anna hollers to John.
John spins around and puts his hands over his heart.
I can't control my laughter at the huge smile spreading across his face.
John says, “Brenna, my love, let's run away and get married.”
I laugh even harder at this and throw myself in his arms. “Whenever you’re ready, let's go.”
I peer over John’s shoulder to see Tucker smiling and shaking his head. I release John and put my arm around his waist as we turn to face Anna and Tucker.
“Anna, I need to divorce you so I can marry Brenna.” John says with all seriousness. This earns him a slap to the arm and a huff from Anna.
“You can't marry her, you idiot. Tucker would never come visit you if you did.”
“Yes, he would. At least then he’d know where she was.” John gives me a pointed look.
I don't know how to respond so I keep my mouth shut.
“Come on, y'all. Let's go eat and let these kids catch up.” Anna says as she puts her arm around Tucker and they move toward the food.
John and I follow slowly behind them. He asks, “Are you back to stay, Brenna?”
“No, only for the weekend.”
“You know he misses you. That boy’s pined for you almost his whole life.”
I stop walking and look at John. “How did I not know this before today?”
“Because, baby girl, the time wasn't right. But now, y'all are both grown, and it doesn't matter much what others want. It's only what y'all want. That boy’s loved you forever and I'm pretty sure you loved him, too. You just need to remember.”
With that, John starts walking again. I'm not sure how long I stand there staring off into space, before he came back, putting his arm around my waist, leading me to the table.
“Just talk to him, Brenna. That's all I ask.”
As I fix my plate, I think about what Tucker and his parents said. I always had a soft spot for him but I never thought I was more than his friend. Well, except for that one time. But now I wonder if I was wrong. It's time to find out.
I finish making my plate and grab a drink, then start across the yard. I am going to eat under our tree, and I hope Tucker follows.
Talk to him. Yes, I can do that. What do I have nothing to lose?
Chapter Three
I settle under the tree with my back against the trunk and my plate in my lap staring out over the field. I chose to sit on the side where I couldn't be seen from Pa's yard.
I hear John’s voice in my head. Remember. Questions plague my mind.
Did I miss something? Did I forget a promise I made to Tucker? Am I just supposed to remember all the times we were together? He was the one that walked away, not me. I need to know. Maybe this was the change I thought about right before I got on the interstate yesterday.
“Mind if I join you?”
I look up to Tucker standing there with his plate in one hand and a drink in the other.
“Not at all.” I smile up at him.
Tucker wastes no time sitting next to me. We both stare at the field while we eat. That's one thing about us, we don't need to talk. We can sit here together in silence and be content with each other’s company. I’ve never had that with anyone else.
“Brenna?” he finally asks.
“Yeah?”
“What are you going to do when you graduate?”
I turn to him and shrug. “I don't know yet. I haven't decided if I will stay in Louisville or move back here.”
“What are you doing tonight?” Tucker asks as he lowers his empty plate to the ground beside him.
“Wanna go fishing with me, or are you too city for that now?” He smirks.
“Tucker Wade, you better take that shit back right now before I show you how redneck I still am.”
“Oh yeah, how redneck are ya?”
“I can bait my own hook.” I grin at him.
“Come on then. Let's get out of here.” Tucker stands up and offers me his hand. He pulls me up so fast I fly straight into his chest. There's that damn electric fence again. I wonder if he feels it, too.
I lean my head back to peer up at him. If the look in his eyes is any indication, then I would swear he feels it too. I place my hands on his chest. His arms snake around my waist, pulling me closer. My cheek lands against his chest and we stand there holding each other in for a few minutes in silence.
Tucker squeezes me and steps back, letting me go. After he bends over and picks up our trash, he grabs my hand and drags me toward the house. Well “drag” may not be the right word, since I'm starting to think I would willingly follow Tucker anywhere.
“Where are we going fishing?” I hope we weren't going to the pond closest to the house. Because there are other ponds sprinkled throughout the fields that offer more privacy.
Tucker flashes a grin. “You'll see.”
Yep, we are going into the fields. This should be interesting.
When we reach Tucker's truck, he tosses our plates and cans into the truck bed before he opens the driver's side door. I start toward the passenger’s side when he pulls me close and tells me to climb in.
He stops me from scooting over and tells me to stay put so I would be in the middle, close to him.
“Stay?” I ask. “What am I? Your dog? What's next, beg and roll over?” As soon as those words leave my mouth that I had walked face first into what comes next.
A slow smile curves his lips as he starts the truck and shifts it into first gear. He looks straight into my eyes. “Dog, no. Mine, hopefully. Beg, maybe. Roll over, definitely.”
Well, hell. What do I say to that?
His smile quickly becomes a mischievous smirk as his eyes turns to the windshield and he peels off down the gravel road. Seems like Tucker really wants some private time with me, and I'm not opposed to that at all. After the sparks and the memories, I’m more curious than ever about where this is going.
I turn on the radio and immediately hear a song I love, Blake Shelton's Boys Round Here. I listen to all types of music, but country is one of my favorites. Sticking to my roots and all that. This song reminds of so many of the guys I know from this town and affirms how different country boys are compared to city boys.
I'd take a country boy over a city slicker any day of the week. And I'm beginning to think I may be sitting right next to my country boy. I look over at Tucker, who’s smiling, and wonder what he's thinking.
“What are you smiling about?” I ask.
Tucker takes his hand off the gear shift and squeezes my knee. “I'm just happy you’re here with me right now.”
“I'm happy I'm here with you, too.” I touch the top of his hand and see his smile falter a little as he squirms in his seat. I barely move my hand away when he turns his hand over and holds on to mine. I spread my fingers and lace them into his, and a sense of peace comes over me.
I lay my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. I feel safe right here beside Tucker.
“Come on, Brenna, the fish won't wait all day.” Tucker says.
“Where they gonna go, Tuck?”
He shakes his head at me and keeps on walking toward the pond.
Tucker and I sat by that pond all day trying to catch a fish, just to throw it back and do it all over again.
“Hey what are you thinking about?” he asks.
I realized then that the truck has stopped. I look out the window and see that we are at the same pond I was just remembering. “That day we came here when I was twelve and we sat here all day and never caught anything.”
“I told you, they wouldn't wait.”
I laughed. “I can't believe you remember saying that.”
“I remember every minute I spent with you, Brenna.”
“I'm starting to remember it all, too, Tucker.”
Tucker stares at me for a few seconds as if he wants to see straight into my thoughts. He gives me a small smile before releasing my hand and hopping out of his truck.
I sit there for a little while longer thinking that all these years maybe I was wrong. There has to be more to the story. To our story. How will it end this time?
Chapter Three
By the time I climb down out of the truck, Tucker is already waiting for me with fishing supplies, because as he reminded me, the fish won’t wait all day. He gestures for me to go ahead of him, so I start walking toward the pond. Something tells me his eyes are glued to my ass, and I spin around to walk backwards facing him.
Because I can’t see behind me, I hope I don’t fall in the pond. That would be humiliating.
“Stop staring at my ass.”
Tucker doesn’t look embarrassed at all when his eyes meet mine. He just grins at me and, holy hell what a smile.
I turn back around and add a little extra swing to my hips.
“Shit!” he hollers.
I spin back around to see that Tucker stumbled over a rock.
“You know, you should really watch where you’re stepping.” I grin at him and take off running when he drops the poles and tackle box, rushing after me.
I scream like a little girl, running around the pond, trying to dodge Tucker. It reminds me of when we were young, running through the fields together and laughing like we didn’t have a care in the world. All of a sudden my feet leave the ground as Tucker catches me around the waist, lifting me into the air.
We’re both laughing, but then he tightens his grip, bringing my back to his chest. And our laughter stops. Tucker turns me around in his arms and simply looks down at me. His palm cradles my cheek, and I as if my body knows what it wants, I lean my face against his hand.
“I’ve missed you so much, Brenna.”
“It’s your own fault.”
Tucker’s face displays several emotions all at once, but he says nothing. Dropping his hand from my check, he steps back. I instantly mourn the loss of his arms. There had been a sense of comfort and longing during those short moments in his embrace.
He says, “Ya know, Brenna…”
I cut him off before he can finish his sentence. I’m pretty sure I know what he’s about to say, but I don’t think I’m ready to hear it. “Yeah, I know they won’t wait all day.”
He laughs and turns his attention to the poles and tackle box he dropped on the ground.
I follow behind him as we make our way to the pond. When we get there, I settle into a spot along the bank. I don’t understand what’s going on between Tucker and me. I still feel like I’m missing something.
“Tucker?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s going on?”
“Well, since we’re sitting by a pond and I’m holding two poles I’d say we’re about to fish.”
“Smart ass. You know that’s not what I meant.”
Tucker glances down at me before he turns away to open the tackle box and get the bait ready. “Tell me what you’ve been doing the last four years?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the change of subject.” I say, while raising a brow at him. “There isn’t much to tell, you know, I moved shortly after graduation and been living in Louisville ever since. I go to class, the library, and then home. The next day, I do it all over again.”
“You don’t party?”
“Nope, I did that my freshman year. It got old pretty fast.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Fishing in more ways than one, Tucker?”
Tucker hands me my pole and gets to his feet. “Just making conversation.”
I stand up to cast my line out into the pond. “No.”
We bot
h reel our lines in a little and sit back on the bank waiting for our bobbers to sink. We’ve done this so many times before, but this time feels different. There’s tension between us now, and I’m not sure why.
We sit there for about an hour. My bobber finally sinks and I jump up to grab my pole. I yank on the line to reel in the fish.
“What do ya think, Tucker? Bluegill or turtle?”
“Since we’ve never caught fish in this pond, I’m gonna go with a turtle.”
“You wanna make a wager on it?”
Tucker smile, letting me know that I may get more than I bargained for if he’s right. “Turtle, you climb our tree with me. Bluegill, I’ll answer your question.”
“Deal.”
I finally get the line reeled in enough to see what I caught, and we’re both wrong.
“How the hell did a catfish get into this pond?” I hold up my line, glancing over at Tucker.
“Dunno, but let me unhook him so you don’t get gilled.”
I roll my eyes at this until Tucker bends over to retrieve his pliers from the tackle box.
Hello nice ass.
“Brenna James, stop staring at my ass.” He stands up straight, eyes boring into mine.
Busted! My only reaction is to grin at him, wondering if it has the same effect on him that his grin has on me.
Tucker removes the hook and throws the catfish back into the pond. There went supper, as if I was going to cook it anyway.
The sun is starting to sink below the horizon, and to my disappointment we won’t be staying much longer. I’m not ready to say goodbye to Tucker yet.
He quickly puts everything back into his tackle box and is now reeling in his line. I grab my pole and start toward his truck. When I get there, I drop the tailgate and hop up to take a seat as I wait for him.
I’m leaning back, watching the sun disappear, when Tucker joins me on the tailgate, scooting in close.
“So?” I ask, my eyes meeting his. “Since we were both wrong, how ‘bout we go climb our tree, and you answer my question?”