Poked

by Naomi Niles

  “Does it look like I’m interested in talking?” asked Nic.

  “But I just bought you a drink!” he cried in a hurt tone.

  “Yeah, and now I’m trying to enjoy it.” She shooed him away with her hands. “Go on. Get!”

  Josh grabbed his ID off the table and slunk away, muttering to himself. Nic went on drinking her cooler with a pleased look.

  “How did you get so good at that?” I asked her.

  Nic shrugged. “I’ve just had a lot of practice.”

  A red-headed young man with a bulky frame and a scruffy beard who had been sitting in a back booth watching us for some time came and sat down next to her. “You seem to be popular tonight,” he said quietly.

  “I wish they would just leave me alone for once. I’m not in the mood tonight.”

  It was so rare for Nic not to be in the mood that I stared at her for a moment in surprise. The stranger must have been thinking the same thing, for he added, “Maybe they’d have had better luck on another night.”

  “Not all of them, surely. What’s your name, anyway?”

  “Adam.”

  “Adam,” Nic repeated. “What brings you over here?”

  Adam shrugged. “I guess I saw the look of defeat on those men’s faces and thought maybe I could do better. How am I doing so far?”

  “That remains to be seen,” said Nic, leaning back and twining her hair around one finger. “You know what’s frustrating?”

  “What’s that?”

  “The fact that they all flock to me instead of my roommate.” She motioned to me, and I waved shyly. “Penny is a much better person than I’ll ever be. She’s also a decent cook and a fabulous dancer.”

  “I think ‘decent cook’ is pushing it a bit,” I pointed out. “The one time I tried to make pancakes, I accidentally made biscuits.”

  “I’m trying to help you out here, Pen. If you’re looking for a fun time, I can’t think of anyone who’s more fun to be around than Penny.”

  “Depending on your definition of ‘fun.’ I’m not sure Adam wants to spend the rest of his evening zentangling or watching me dance around a kitchen while I make macaroni.”

  “There are some boys who wouldn’t mind that,” said Adam. He had a rich, throaty voice like a man who had been smoking for the last forty years, but he couldn’t have been any older than twenty-five. “What kind of dances do you do?”

  “Just flailing, mostly.”

  “Hey.” He raised his glass in my direction. “Ain’t nothing wrong with that.”

  “Sometimes you just have to be the boss of flailing.”

  Adam studied me for a long moment over the rim of his glass as though trying to rate my attractiveness. I had to resist the urge not to hide behind Nic. “Do you go out much?” he asked.

  “I’ve never been on a date in my life.” Nic shot me a warning look, but I ignored it. “I made out with a boy once, and it was gross, but we had also just finished playing volleyball, and he had a loose tooth.”

  “At least it didn’t fall out into your mouth.”

  “I’m grateful for the little things,” I replied.

  “But she’d make a great wife!” said Nic. I punched her hard on the arm to make her stop, but she ignored me. “She loves babies more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life. And she’s very affectionate, so if you marry her, you will never want for attention.”

  “What if I don’t want to get married?” Adam asked Nic as though I wasn’t there. “What if I just want to go out?”

  Nic turned and smirked at me thoughtfully. “In that case, I can just about guarantee you will have a spontaneous and unexpected adventure.”

  “I go on dates with Nic,” I said. “One time we got lost in a veteran’s hospital. Another time we got lost in the woods and tried to build a fire, but the logs were too wet.”

  “So if I went out with you we would probably get lost somewhere,” said Adam.

  I shrugged. “Hey, but who else would you rather be lost with? I’m just sayin’.”

  Adam reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of red paper. He unfolded it to reveal a flyer with a car and a couple of checkered flags at the top. “If you want to experience some real excitement,” he said as he slid it across the bar toward me, “come to the race on Saturday.”

  Nic snatched up the flyer and read it over carefully. “This is an underground street race,” she said in surprise.

  Adam smiled a proud smile. “Yep, and if you show up before 3:00pm, you might be able to see a certain handsome redhead competing. Then maybe once it’s over, we can go out for drinks and pretzels. There’s a place in Fort Worth that sells pretzels the size of that plate, dripping in oil and smothered in salts. It just opened, and I’ve been wanting to go, but I’ve been busy getting prepped for the big race.”

  “Okay, number one,” said Nic, sounding tired, “I can’t stand pretzels. Number two, you should know that Penny and I are undercover cops.”

  I didn’t think Adam would believe her, but a frown creased his face for a moment. “Seriously?”

  “Don’t make me prove it,” said Nic in a stern voice. I nodded, my eyes twinkling.

  “Wow, okay.” Adam raised his hands in surrender and rose from his stool. “Well, listen, forget I said anything. And if I ever see you in here again, I’ll buy you both drinks.”

  He turned to leave but paused as he passed and clapped me on the back. “And, for the record, I wasn’t the handsome redhead I was referring to.”

  “Didn’t think you were,” I replied.

  “Alright.”

  The moment he was gone, Nic doubled over in laughter.

  “Did you see the look on his face?! Dude’s gonna be watching his back for the rest of the night, if not week!”

  “I didn’t know you were such a good liar.” I raised my lemonade in salute. “It makes me a little scared to be living with you.”

  “As long as you never try to hit on me in a bar, you should be good.” Nic took a sip of her beer. “I’ve lied to a lot of guys, though.”

  We paid for our meal and returned home. It had been raining, and the light from the street lamps glistened on the damp roads. Dad had texted me a couple times while we were eating, so after I changed into my night clothes, I went and checked on him.

  He was lying in bed wearing a pair of flannel pajamas, and he smiled at me weakly as I came through the door.

  “You doing okay?” I asked him. “What did you eat for dinner?”

  “Quinoa salad,” he said with a look of disgust, “and a vegetable shake. Sometimes I think the diet is worse than the cancer. What did you eat?”

  “You wouldn’t like me if I told you. Nic and I went out and met a couple guys.”

  “Are you engaged yet?”

  “No, they annoyed us. If I ever meet a guy who doesn’t irritate me, I’ll let you know.”

  “That’ll be the day,” Dad said in his best John Wayne impression. “Even in school, you would always run away when the boys tried to kiss you. I remember you telling me boys were gross, and you never wanted to get married. I told you, you would change your mind someday, but even the wisest of parents are wrong sometimes.”

  “Well, it’s not that I hate boys,” I said. “I’m not asexual or whatever. I just think most boys are obnoxious.”

  “You just haven’t met any good ones yet. You might have to get out of this town before you do.”

  “That’s very true. I met several boys I liked at BU, but I had no idea how to approach them.”

  “I blame myself for that,” Dad said in an apologetic tone. “Maybe I should have made you go out with boys when you were growing up.”

  “It wouldn’t have done any good. Plus, I had fun dancing in my room and going to prom with my girlfriends.” Reaching over and straightening his pillow, I added, “Anyway, I’m sick of talking about boys. I want you to tell me one good thing about your day before I go to bed.”

  Dad frowned in concentration; h
e seemed to be having trouble even thinking of one thing. “Oh, this morning they showed the episode of Columbo where the murderer is a preacher played by Johnny Cash.”

  “That one was always my favorite,” I said with a smile. There were some things about Dad that never changed; his love of Columbo was one of them. “I’m glad Johnny Cash decided to become a musician instead of a murderer.”

  There was a framed picture of my mom on the nightstand beside his bed. Dad turned and looked toward it. Sometimes he disappeared for a moment, and I could tell he was back with her.

  “You’ve really been missing her lately, haven’t you?” I asked quietly.

  “More than ever before. They say you’re supposed to move on eventually, but I never have.”

  “Your brothers all said you would remarry, but you never did.”

  He shook his head slowly. “No, I never did.”

  On the night I was born, Mom had insisted on hiring a midwife rather than going to the hospital. But the midwife who came to the house was new and inexperienced, and it soon became clear she had no idea what she was doing. She managed to deliver me, but Mom didn’t make it. Dad had once told me that as long as he lived, he would never forget the sight of the bathtub soaked in blood. He had had a visceral distrust of doctors and nurses ever since.

  He reached out a hand and caressed my cheek with the back of his index finger. “The only thing that gets me through the day lately is knowing that soon I’ll be with her again.”

  “Don’t say that, Dad. We’re going to get through this. You’re going to fight it.”

  Dad just shook his head.

  I kissed him once on the cheek and returned to my room. Sometimes, I felt bad going out at night dancing and meeting boys when he was so sick he couldn’t get out of bed without help. I wanted to stay in and help him and be at his side always, but he wouldn’t allow it. “You’ve gotta live your own life,” he had told me. “Don’t let the troubles of old men take away from your youth.” I wanted to argue with him, wanted to remind him that his life wasn’t over yet and he wasn’t allowed to give up. But the truth was, I realized as I flung myself down on the bed and let my pillow muffle the noise of my sobs, he had given up a long time ago.

  Chapter Five

  Darren

  The next morning, I woke up early and drove to my parents’ house.

  It was one of those perfect spring mornings where golden sunlight shone through the kitchen windows and formed pools on the floor at Dad’s feet. Mom was making one of her signature large breakfasts of leftover roast pork, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, sausage links, buttermilk biscuits, and greasy hash browns. She gave me a peck on the cheek as I came in.

  “You been staying out of trouble?” she asked me as I slung my satchel over a chair.

  “Depends on what you mean by trouble. I haven’t been arrested lately, which is more than I can say for Braxton.” Curtis, Braxton, Zac, and Marshall were my four brothers.

  “You know Marshall is in town, right? He’s staying with us for the weekend.”

  “Is that right? Holy hell. Where is the old rascal?”

  “He’s in his old bedroom. Ought to be waking up about now, it’s almost time for breakfast.”

  “I’ll make sure he wakes up.”

  Slinking back toward my own room, I grabbed a Super Soaker out of the closet—one of those giant plastic water guns that we hadn’t used since the ‘90s. Filling it up in the bathroom sink, I held it up with its end pointed toward the ceiling as though wanting to shoot God.

  The tread of my feet on the hall carpet was muffled by the noise of Mom setting dishes in the kitchen. Slowly, I pushed Marshall’s door open and prepared to fire.

  “AGGGGHHHH!!” Before I could even aim properly, I was struck in the face by a wall of warm water that blinded me and sent me staggering back into the hallway. Marshall laughed with maniacal glee as he soaked me from head to foot until the whole gun was empty.

  “Marshall, you bastard!” I yelled, laughing. “How did you have that ready?”

  “Always be prepared, brother,” said Marshall, kissing the gun’s nozzle. “You want to try anything else?”

  “Right now, I’m feeling more hungry than vengeful, but ask me again once I’ve got a couple pork steaks inside me. There’s no use retaliating on an empty stomach.”

  By the time we emerged from the back room, Curtis had come in. He was a brawny, slightly chubby guy in his early thirties whose hair had all migrated from the top of his head to his beard like a Woolly Willy. Except that his hair was a dark reddish-brown, and he always wore a cowboy hat to cover up his bald spot, making him look like an old-school country singer. Curtis lived in a house just down the road, and he came over most weekdays to help Dad with the farming.

  “You doin’ alright, man?” I asked him. “How’s Allie been?”

  “A bit under the weather lately, so we haven’t been out riding much. I think sometimes she gets homesick for New England and wishes she was out walking barefoot over a rocky beach.”

  “Hey, we all have those days. You ever thought about maybe taking her back there?”

  “What, you mean permanently?”

  “Not necessarily; maybe just as a vacation. Get her out of Texas for a bit and let her feel the cold ocean breeze on her face again. I know we’ve got beaches down in Galveston and Corpus, but this time of year they’re packed with tourists.”

  “Yeah, and the National Guard,” said Curtis. “Would you believe they’re still cleaning up that oil spill? It’s been almost a year. I think you’re right, though; I ought to get her out of here one of these days. She’s been talking about taking a train back to Maryland to visit her parents, and maybe I’ll go with her. I’ve been wanting to meet them.”

  “You should, man. Especially if y’all are planning on getting married. You ought to get her another dog while you’re at it.”

  Curtis shook his head. “I think we’ve got enough dogs. Between Gandalf and Jasper, it’s like raisin’ a couple kids.”

  “You ought to get yourself one of them, too.”

  “We’re workin’ on it, believe me.”

  “The rest of us need to get a move on,” said Marshall.

  “I mean, none of the rest of you are even datin’ anybody,” said Curtis. “So I’ve got a good head start.”

  “Zac’s got himself a girlfriend,” Marshall reminded him.

  Curtis waved his hand in dismissal. “Zac’s all the way over in New York. He don’t count!”

  Just then, Dad came walking into the kitchen. He was wearing an argyle sweater, a pair of loose-fitting khakis, and a stiff-brimmed, blue flat cap. Seating himself at the table and reaching for the pitcher of iced orange juice, he said, “Since y’all are both here this morning, I’m going to need you to help me fix up the barn.”

  “What’s wrong with it?” asked Marshall.

  “With the amount of rain we’ve been getting lately, the foundation is corroded. There are places where the wood is crumbling into pieces because it’s so damp.”

  “And not just that,” said Mom, setting the biscuits on the table. “The ground under the barn has become a muddy quagmire, and the barn is starting to sink into it. What we really need to do is pour some cement and solidify that base before the whole building goes under.”

  “You know I’d love to,” said Curtis, “but I’ve got to meet Allie for lunch. It’s the first time we’ve been out all week, and she was really looking forward to it.”

  “Well, I’d hate for you to disappoint her, and you did plenty of work on the fence yesterday. I’m sure Marshall and Darren and me can get it done.” He turned to look at me with an expression of mild curiosity. “You’re not meeting your girlfriend for lunch, are you?”

  “God, I hope not,” I muttered. “If I don’t see her again for a week, that’ll be alright.”

  Curtis began whistling the song “That’d Be Alright” under his breath; more than anyone else in the family, he loved country mu
sic. Mom set the syrup down on the table. “Darren, you and Carlotta haven’t been having problems, have you? I noticed she’s been coming over less and less. I was thinking about having her over for dinner one night this week, but I might reconsider if y’all are mad at each other.”

  The tone of Mama’s voice made it perfectly clear that she thought I was to blame for whatever problems me and Carlotta were having. “We’re just having one of our semi-regular spats. It’ll be alright in a week or two.”

  Curtis went on humming “That’d Be Alright.” I glared at him in annoyance. “Will you cut that out?”

  Curtis shrugged and reached for the syrup. “I have to admit when you and Carlotta started going out, I really thought she was the one. I told Mom it would take a really exceptional woman to get you out of your room and working for a steady paycheck.”

  “Well, she wasn’t the only reason I got my own place. I was tired of being in Mom’s hair and figured she and Dad deserved a few years to themselves.”

  “You were never a bother,” said Mama. “Ever since you moved out, I’ve really missed having you around all the time.”

  “Wish you’d told me that before.”

  “Curtis is right, though. I really like Carlotta, and I think she’s had a very positive effect on you. I remember when you had the beard, and your hair was so long you could have cut it all off and had yourself a nice carpet. You used to sit in your room and play Halo at all hours. Dad and I were really worried about you. But ever since y’all started dating, there’s been something different about you. You’re clean and professional, you don’t look like the Yeti, and you work forty hours a week, sometimes more. It’s a huge weight off my shoulders; I can tell you that.”

  “I feel like it had more to do with you than it did with Carlotta, Mama,” I replied. “I guess I just woke up one morning and decided I wanted to impress you.”

  “Well, that’s really sweet of you,” said Mama, blushing. “But I hope if you and Carlotta break up you’ll find someone else like her.”

  “I sure don’t,” I muttered.