Love Comes Home: A Collection of Second Chance Short Stories

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Love Comes Home: A Collection of Second Chance Short Stories Page 5

by Kristi Rose


  “Hello,” she said louder.

  “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying,” a man yelled. His voice came from the cut out square above her on the ceiling. The attic space, she assumed. He sounded older than a frat boy, his voice deep, almost gravelly with the slightest southern drawl. The odds for creepy or nice old guy were fifty-fifty.

  “I’m your neighbor,” she said, using a tone she hoped matched her expression.

  “Jeez, sorry. I’ll be right with you. I was....” Strong tanned legs with just the right amount of dark hair appeared out of the hole in the ceiling. They dangled for a moment before the rest slowly came into view. Dark green cargo shorts and a navy t-shirt, the words Semper Fi scrolled across a chest deserving more than a cursory glance. The t-shirt hugged his body in such a way no time was needed to ponder what was underneath, but instead allowed the imagination to run free.

  What a person could do to a body that defined. She came up with five things in that small flash of time and none of them required clothing.

  He hung briefly from the ledge before dropping to the ground with an ease that made Spiderman look clumsy.

  “...checking out the condition of the house. I heard...”

  She stared into flint colored eyes. That combination of blue and gray could only belong to one person. At least, she’d never seen eyes that color on anyone else, ever, and try as she might she’d never been able to wipe those eyes from her memory.

  Grady Duke.

  How long had it been since his name drifted across her mind?

  Years of memories flashed before her as she took in the face of the guy who was responsible for all her firsts. From kisses to sex, she’d done it all with Grady and all over the course of the summer before her sophomore year. Evie rubbed the space between her breasts with the heel of her hand, hoping to ease the sudden burn of indigestion.

  Gamble.

  Grady Duke had been a high stakes game on which she’d gambled and lost. She’d offered him her virginity and he’d taken it, only to end things by moving on to someone else a week later. She knew she’d been expecting too much, hoping he would want to be with her more than he’d ever wanted or had been with anyone else. But Grady had proven what others said about him to be true.

  “Evie Barker?”

  Same square chin, same long nose, which on another person would almost be too slender, but on Grady’s slightly narrow face only made him look stronger. His dark brown hair was cut close. As she absorbed it all, she realized her resting bitch face had been replaced with what was probably mouth open, catching flies face.

  Time had been good to him.

  “Grady. What are you...?” The collision of thoughts left her brain addled. “How are you...uh....” She scrambled to gather her wits. “Lord help me,” she mumbled.

  Seeing him again came with a jumbled mess of emotions. Surprised, she found herself just as breathless as she’d been back then, her heart thumping erratically. Yet, the soured taste of disappointment at having something beautiful end the way it had, suddenly and stupidly, weighed equally on her. She’d long thought she’d gotten over their summer together.

  “You look great. Wow. Check you out. You’re the last person I thought I’d run into here.”

  “Here? Here like this house or—?” Sweet Jesus. She should shut up.

  “Here in Lakeland. I always thought you’d blow out of town first chance you got.”

  “Kinda like you did.” She hadn’t meant to say it. Think it, sure, but out loud it sounded so rude.

  She’d spent her entire sophomore year avoiding Grady Duke. It had helped he’d been a senior and they didn’t have any classes together. Outside of the one incident at Shawn Field’s party, she’d been successful. Nonetheless, when he’d left for the Marine Corps soon after graduation, she’d nearly wept with relief. Out of sight, out of mind and she'd tucked that chapter of her life was neatly away, for the most part, forgotten.

  “The Marine Corps doesn’t have a base in Lakeland so chances of staying were pretty slim.” He laughed and reached across his chest to scratch his shoulder, and a large tattoo of the Marine Corps insignia on his bicep caught her eye. “I’d heard you left for college but didn’t know you’d come back. I’m surprised you’re still in town.”

  There was no derision toward Lakeland in his voice, just confusion. If there was one person, other than Lorelei, who had seen a true glimpse into her childhood, it was Grady. Not because she’d willingly shared that part, but hiding it had been difficult. There’d been more nights than she’d care to count when she and Grady, coming home from a night together, would find her father stumbling down the road, having left his car at the last place he’d been drinking. Grady would help her get him inside. Refusing to let their night end that way, he’d convince her to sit on the tailgate of his truck, tucked between his legs, and they’d wish on stars and talk about life after Lakeland.

  “My momma’s still here so...”

  “Ah, that’s right.” Even though Grady had been long gone, serving his country, when the accident occurred, it was clear from his sorrowful expression he knew what happened. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about your dad, too.”

  “Thanks.” She was surprised. Folks never said they were sorry about her dad’s passing, likely because he’d been driving drunk and colliding with the corner of their house had sent him through the windshield, killing him on impact. Her momma hadn’t been so lucky. When her father overshot the driveway, crossing the grass, he never saw her momma standing in the yard, and pinned her between the car and house.

  Evie’d been told, more than she’d been offered condolences, how fortunate they were not to have to go through the trial of watching the state convict her father. But usually those comments came from the same people who’d made it a habit of laughing at her family long before the accident.

  “Looks like your yard gnome’s been stolen,” they’d said, when on the rare occasion her father actually passed out inside the house instead of on the lawn.

  “So what are you doing here? I mean in this house, well...and in town... Is this the first time you’ve come home?” All these years and she’d never run into him.

  “I took a position at Florida Southern. My dad’s been sick. The timing of this job and the opportunity to come home and help coincided, so here I am, renting this house.”

  “A happy coincidence, I hope.”

  He shrugged. “I was eyeing something closer to where more Civil War events occurred. But this works for now. Look at you. I always knew you’d be successful. You’re an occupational therapist. Sounds interesting.”

  “How did you know?” She tried to smooth her wrinkled and stained scrubs. She picked a patch of dried oatmeal off her sleeve and noticed a large, gross, brown spot on the cuff of her pants. There was no telling what other disturbing stains might be clinging to her. If she were bold enough to sniff her pits in his presence, she wouldn’t be surprised if she smelled. Suddenly, she wanted to escape to her house and restart this moment as something less of a hot mess. Why did he always have to see her at her worst?

  “I read it on your badge. Your hair is much longer in this picture.” With a smile, he lifted the badge hanging from her lanyard and showed it to her. His fingers grazed the top of her stomach and a burst of heat flooded her chest. Her knees wobbled and the same butterflies that had fluttered nonstop that summer long ago revisited her. She stared at his fingers, willing them to touch her again, wondering if it was the newness of seeing him or the rekindling of the same old flame that left her unsteady.

  Trying to find equilibrium, she sucked in her gut and forced out a steady breath and a nervous giggle. She grabbed her badge from him and twisted it in her hand. “Duh. Of course you knew that from my badge.” She glanced at her terrible badge picture. She. Hated. It. With her fat braid and bland scrubs, she looked like a matronly resident and not an employee.

  “I just cut my hair last week,”
she mumbled.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Oh, you mentioned my hair.” She showed him the badge picture, her thumb over her face. “I cut it last week.”

  Yes, she was looking for something new this week that she could change up, but as she stared at Grady’s smiling face, she made a vow. There was no way in hell he would be her next change.

  “I like it. Of course, I liked the braid, too. That’s how I remember you.” He shifted his weight to the other foot and stuck his hands in his front pockets. The change in position drew her attention to the span of his broad shoulders and how his t-shirt hugged his biceps.

  Evie gave into her nerves and giggled. She sounded like a crazy, unstable person with her weird conversation skills and unexplained laughter. The need to escape before the heat from her chest crawled up her face propelled her into action.

  Taking a step back, she said, “Welcome home. I just popped by to make sure more hooligans like those who lived here last time hadn’t moved in. They were so loud. Always partying and being naked and....”

  Oh. My. Word.

  She took several more steps back. She had to get out before she sounded any more like a sixty-year-old woman. “I mean, not that I don’t like parties or being naked—”

  Shut. Up. This was going south, fast.

  “Or both at the same time?” he teased.

  “Ha.” She pointed her finger at him, her badge still tucked in her palm. “Yeah, all the above. It was good seeing you.” She backed out into the sun, gave a wave, and hauled butt home.

  “See you around,” he called.

  When she got inside, she leaned against the door and tried to steady her pounding heart.

  Wow, Grady Duke.

  One thing was certain, making an idiot out of herself in his presence always happened. History certainly liked to repeat itself.

  Word of the day:KISMET-fate;destiny.

  CHAPTER TWO

  She hadn’t had another encounter with Grady since the incident in his garage. It’d been two days since his fingers brushed her stomach through her scrubs and consequently left her daydreaming about him, nonstop.

  Yesterday, after work, she’d noticed him breaking down boxes in his backyard. She just so happened to be looking from behind her curtains out the window, which, coincidentally, gave her a sweeping view of the entire side of his house, front and back yards. He’d come out carrying boxes, wearing exercise shorts and another tight t-shirt that read “Seemed like a good idea at the time.” She’d nearly drooled all over herself, which of course, left her wanting to punch herself in the face. As if anything would ever happen between them again. Yet, she was window stalking him just as much as she had the frat boys, only this time her thoughts were more along the lines of watching Grady mow the yard, shirtless, than protecting the neighborhood.

  It was hard to guess what his schedule might be, but when she left that morning for Two Chicks and Bacon, there were no signs of life at his house. The moving truck was long gone, a large silver pickup in its place.

  The second she arrive at the diner, she inhaled deeply as she slid onto the same chair where she sat every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The smell of comfort food did its magic and the tension of her job, Momma, and her new neighbor faded away. Picking up her smartphone, she checked her word of the day app.

  Kismet, her ass. Kismet could go take a long walk off a short pier. If Grady Duke was fate’s way of moving her forward, well then, fate could go—

  “Morning,” Andee said and poured her a cup of coffee.

  “Morning.” Evie inhaled the aroma and closed her eyes. Peace.

  “What’s new?”

  She opened her eyes and reached for a menu. “Um. Nothing. What’s new with you?” She did not want to have a conversation with Andee about Grady. She wanted to joke with her friends and remember the Evie she was now and not the one from the past, the one she’d spent so much time thinking about these last few days.

  “Everything here is the same as it was yesterday and the day before that, and the day before that.” Andee flipped her hand dismissively. “You get the picture.”

  Evie ran her finger down the menu’s list of specials and debated sharing her news. Andee would find out soon enough.

  “Why do you even bother, Evie? You know you get the same thing every time.” Andee laughed, took the menu from her, and put it back in the holder before she moved down the counter to help another customer.

  “Today is a new day. I might actually go crazy and try something different,” Evie said and snatched the menu back out of the holder.

  “Weirder things have happened, I suppose.”

  The familiarity with which Andee teased warmed Evie from the inside out. Andee enjoyed poking fun at Evie about being so predictable, but truth was Andee was the same and that’s why they got along so well, a mutual respect of their need to make lists, have designated chore days, and leave spontaneity to the foolhardy.

  Once she finished her rounds, Andee returned to Evie and, with great flourish, produced her order pad and pen. “You bringing anyone to Lorelei’s wedding?”

  “Nope.” Torn between her desire to shock Andee by ordering something different yet craving the comfort of her favorite bacon and Gouda omelet, Evie waffled on her decision.

  “So, what’s it gonna be?” Andee tapped her pen on the page.

  Darn it all, today was not about breaking out of her comfort zone, but about building up her reserves and now that Grady was her neighbor, she was going to need lots in reserve. “I’ll just have the usual,” she said, daring Andee to say anything.

  Andee leaned against the counter. “You ever thought of trying one of those online matchmaking sites?”

  “Are you gonna put in my order?”

  “I did, when you got here. Have you? I know you don’t have problems getting dates; I’ve seen the way some of the guys around here look at you. But I think the pond here’s been overfished. You need to follow the tributary out. Maybe Orlando or Tampa.”

  “I’m taking a break from dating for a bit. It’s so exhausting getting to know someone. I dread that point where they start asking about my family. It’s hard being evasive all the time.” Evie rolled her eyes, as if it were no never mind, but really, getting serious with someone was scary enough, telling them her dad nearly killed her momma was not a conversation she liked having. At all. Ever.

  “Just so you know, I’m keeping my eyes open for you.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” Evie said and glanced over at the kitchen doors as they swung open.

  Lorelei Parker, co-owner of the diner, came from around the counter, slid Evie’s plate before her then plopped onto the chair next to her. She poured herself a coffee and blew on it as a maintenance man walked by with his toolbox.

  “What’s that about?” Evie sprinkled more pepper on her eggs.

  “The storage closet keeps sticking. Even when it’s unlocked you can’t get out. I discovered that the hard way. Freaked Cole out when he couldn’t find me. Hence the handyman.” Cole was Lorelei’s fiancé. Their history extended back to high school but was finally coming full circle this summer when they would marry.

  “How’d the oatmeal go?” Lorelei asked.

  "Um, good." Evie pointed to her plate where little pats of butter shaped as chicks garnished the toast. “These are cute.”

  Andee took a step back, moving to stand behind Lorelei, and repeatedly waved her hand under her chin.

  “Thanks, my momma’s come to town to help with the wedding planning and she’s driving me berserk. These butter pats were a little project to help me burn off some....”

  “Feelings?” Evie offered.

  “Yes,” Lorelei said and pointed her finger at Evie for emphasis. “Feelings. I had lots of feelings to burn off.”

  Taking the cue from Andee, Evie backed away from the landmine and didn’t probe further. “I’m sorry. If you need some help, just let me know.�


  “Thanks, but if my mother keeps it up, I might just elope. Listen to me go on. You don’t want to hear about my momma. But I want to hear about yours. How’s the special diet we’ve created for her going?”

  “It’s hard to say. She’s had a rough few days, another infection.” Evie found the frequency at which her momma continued to get sick worrisome. She’d been taking care of her for so long she didn’t know what she’d do if she no longer had that.

  “You still want me to make up some oatmeal for her?”

  “Yes, please. At least I know she’s getting the nutrients she needs. It’s exercise and all the other stuff she’s lacking.”

  Lorelei nodded. “I’ve been playing around with a recipe for a chia seed yogurt. That might be good for her, too. I’ll let you know.”

  Andee moved to top off the coffee cups of the retired set who, today, were debating the merits of gator wrestling.

  Though they’d graduated together, Lorelei, Andee, and Evie hadn’t run in the same crowd back in the day. After the accident that killed her father and left her momma unable to care for her own basic needs, Lorelei and her parents had stepped up. They’d visited Momma every week, helped Evie complete her college applications, and became the foundation she’d needed to get the start into adulthood.

  Evie never imagined she’d spend her senior year being fostered by a family from their church and trying to manage her wild sister or that when she turned eighteen she’d become the legal guardian to her sister, Shea. Parenting a teen while maintaining a full time college load had been far from easy but she couldn’t imagine what would have become of them without the support of Lorelei’s family.

  “Evie,” Lorelei whispered. “Isn’t that Grady Duke?”

  Her fork clattered to her plate as she turned to watch her neighbor come in the door. Apparently, cargo shorts and tight t-shirts were his signature threads. Though the expanse of his chest made the likelihood of a shirt not being tight slim. Today’s t-shirt read “Civil War Buff” in bold letters

 

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