by Jordan Marie
I saw a documentary once about this guy who had a bug lay eggs in his ear. That shit legitimately left me emotionally scarred. I didn’t even know that was possible. He had like hundreds of these bugs in his ear and they would just randomly crawl out. The thought of a million colonies of bees taking up nest in my head is freaking me out so bad I’m screaming every breath. I stand up stomping on the mower, trying to shake my head back and forth. The mower is supposed to die when you stand up. This one didn’t get that memo. It’s sputtering but it moves forward and stalls out, but only after it crashes into something. I stumble back against the seat. For a second I think I’m going to save myself, but then I fall backwards and my ass hits the ground.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I look up to see a guy in a police uniform standing over me. He’s got dark hair with hints of dark blond in it and even with the long sleeves and high collar of his shirt there are tattoos visible on his neck. In any other circumstance I’d have to stop everything I was doing and just stare. I’ve always had a thing for a guy in uniform and this guy is hot as hell. That’s not what would get a girl’s attention though—at least not all of it. That would be those piercing blue eyes he has. Blue eyes which are currently staring at me like I’m crazy. He’s furious… and with good reason. Dad’s lawnmower has just plowed into the side of his squad car.
Crap.
That’s the exact moment the bee makes itself known. I’m convinced it’s probably a demon from hell only taking the form of a bee, because it appears again out of nowhere and is diving, aiming right for my face. I scream—loudly again—and swat it away.
Unfortunately, I swat it directly at the man who is already pissed at me. He tries to dodge it, but his reflexes are obviously not as great as mine and the bee lands on his face…
I can only surmise by the stream of curse words that it stings him right between the eyes.
I stand up, intent on helping him when I realize I’m in my bra and have no shirt on.
Double crap.
I scream again—for no real reason unless you count that I’m half naked and search for my shirt. I finally find it and bend down to grab it just as the guy is and our heads slam together.
This time it’s a tie as to who is cursing louder. Me or him. But there’s really no mystery in the fact that ole’ blue eyes is looking at me like he wants to kill me.
Triple crap.
Chapter Three
Black
I hold my head while steadying the woman who apparently is trying to kill me. I look down at the lawnmower with a crumpled front end, the huge dent to the door in my squad car and I feel my face go tight. If I hadn’t jumped out of the way, the crazy woman would have run right over me. And on top of all of that, she swatted a yellow jacket right at me and the damn thing stung the fire out of me. I haven’t been stung in years.
Christ.
“Are you out of your mind?” I growl.
“There was a bee,” she says, like that explains the chaos that just erupted. She puts her shirt on while she responds and some of the words are muffled. If I wasn’t in pain from clanging heads with her and the bee sting, I’d probably take time to enjoy those full breasts that are overflowing in her bra. I don’t even blink as she covers herself up. Women are trouble, I learned that the hard way in Dallas, and it’s clear that this one is even more trouble.
“You can’t tell me you don’t run into bees every day in your line of work,” I chastise, because really that’s no excuse.
“My line of work?” she asks, blinking.
“I assumed you were the Harrington’s gardener.”
She’s silent for a minute.
“It’s 2018,” she says. “The proper term these days is landscaper.”
“Oh…”
“There’s much more to maintaining a healthy lawn and trees than you realize,” she begins to lecture me.
“Like jumping around like a lunatic and stripping naked for the world to see?” I prod her. If she wants to have an issue with me, I’ll just remind her of why we’re even talking in the first place.
“I told you,” she huffs. "There was a bee.”
“What happens when you see a snake?”
She ignores my question. If it wasn’t for the annoyance and a spark of anger that goes over her face, I’d think she didn’t hear me.
“I’m sorry about your car. I’ll just get your info and contact—”
“It belongs to the town of Mason. We can tell the Mayor and he can sort it out, since you are working for him.”
“Oh… Yes, we can do that. Although, he’s probably going to want to kill me.”
“What you did was very foolish,” I tell her honestly. “You could have been seriously injured or injured me. You need to be more aware of your surroundings. You also will have to contact the owner of your company so they can warn their insurance carrier.”
“Oh… I own the lawnmower actually.”
“You own your own landscaping business?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” she asks, her tone sharp. It’s clear she’s going to get pissed off. I know I sounded condescending, but landscaping seems like a job where lots of muscles would come in handy, plus there is the fact that she’s clearly a train wreck. How she can run her own business could possibly be one of life’s greatest mysteries.
“It’s just that most landscapers are…” I trail off because with each word her face gets tighter. The only woman I’ve ever known whose face is so animated that I can read almost every emotion is my mother. I take a step back away from this woman, taking that as a warning more than anything else.
“You can go ahead and say it, you know,” she responds, crossing her arms across her chest, just below her breasts. The stance is like a challenge and it’s a really bad time to notice her tits now. You would have thought earlier they would have caught my eye more when they were just hanging out—but nope. I don’t have the slightest urge to look at them until this moment. When the girl looks pissed as hell at me.
I apparently am still an idiot when it comes to women and the whole mess in Dallas taught me zip. At this point, I’m as angry at myself as she obviously is with me.
“Say what?” I ask, just needing to get the hell out of here.
“That you expected me to be a man,” she almost snarls at me. This is clearly a sore spot with her.
If it were possible there would be a large neon sign over her head at this point flashing, “Danger.” I back away a little more. I didn’t come here for this crap and the last thing I want to do is tangle with Harrington’s gardener—landscaper—crazy as a Bessie bug—don’t call her a woman—person.
“Well I did. Is that so wrong?” I ask, sounding and feeling defensive.
“I run across guys like you all the time in my industry. You think if a man doesn’t do it, it can’t be done. I got news for you buck-o, a woman can do anything a man can do and most times do it a hell of a lot better!”
Now, coming from a single mother, who raised a large family on her own for the most part, I happen to agree with her. That and the fact that my sisters are all strong, loving women, I get it. What I don’t like is the fact that this woman is jamming it down my throat. She clearly has issues and this is not my battle, plus I’m getting really tired of going on the defensive when it was her that tried to kill me and I’m not even mentioning the fact that my head is really starting to kill me. It must have been so long since I’ve been stung that I don’t remember the pain, because right now my face feels hot, tight and it’s pulsing with pain. With that in mind, I just walk away.
I’ve turned away and gone a whole five steps when I hear her calling out behind me.
“What? You don’t have anything to say to the argument? Did you suddenly realize what an ass you sound like?”
“Lady, I don’t have time to fool with you. I’m going to drop these papers off with the Mayor and then I’m getting the hell out of here. You’ve done enough damage trying to kill me, I don�
��t need to stand around and let you chew my ass out over the injustices of the world on top of that.”
“What a typical male response!” she yells.
“I doubt you know what a typical male response is like,” I mutter. I didn’t think she could hear me, but apparently she decided she wasn’t going to let me walk away because the next thing I know she’s standing beside of me. I do my best to ignore her while walking to the Mayor’s front door.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I sigh, reaching up to rub my forehead and I can tell that the bee sting has swollen. I’ve got a golf ball size knot on my damn head. Fuck, maybe I should go back to Dallas. At least I knew to watch out for the crazy women back there. Here they just jump out of nowhere—or come riding in on a damn mower.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” I mumble, knocking on the door.
“Oh come on. You expect me to think you didn’t mean anything by that snide remark?” she snorts.
I knock again and there’s still no answer.
“If you’re going to say something, you should at least have the balls to explain what you mean,” she nudges, snidely.
“Lady, you don’t know shit about my balls. I doubt you’ve seen any man’s balls in a hell of a long time—unless you were wearing them around your neck as a trophy.”
“Oh my God! You did not just say that to me!”
“In fact, I did, Ball-Busting-Barbie,” I snarl and bang on the door again. “Where in the hell is the Mayor?” I ask, more to myself—definitely not to her.
“He’s not home!”
“You couldn’t have told me that to begin with?”
“You didn’t ask!”
“Who can ask you anything? You’re too busy trying to kill me or scream me to death with that high-pitched voice of yours.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my voice,” she says, putting her hands on her hips.
“Maybe not if it wasn’t constantly yelling,” I growl. “When the Mayor gets back tell him Sheriff Parrish—”
“I’m not your messenger boy either.”
“Fine. Lady, I swear you take the cake. You think you’d be sorry for trying to kill me.”
“You think you wouldn’t be able to walk because you’re such a caveman!”
“That’s it. I’m out of here. Best of luck in life and in explaining how you nearly demolished a police car.”
“That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t parked where you did!”
“I parked in the damn driveway!”
“But only so far. If you had parked in front of the garage, it wouldn’t have happened, now would it?”
“You’re unbelievable. For the sake of your business, and every male that gets within ten feet of you, here’s hoping you get laid soon. Maybe it will get the stick out of your ass and put you in a better mood.”
“I… You… Oh. My. God! How dare you say that to me!”
“I bet I’m not the first, I just said it where you can hear me.”
I give my parting shot as I get in my car. I peel out of the Mayor’s drive leaving a trail of burnt, blackened rubber in my wake. The mower turns sideways as I leave, as it disengages with my crumpled passenger side car door.
Luka’s not going to be happy about that. Hell, if the Mayor’s landscaper blabs about what I said to her, I probably won’t have a job anymore.
Fuck it.
I’m not sure I care anymore. Maybe that old saying is true and you really can’t go back home again. It worked for some of my brothers and sisters, but it’s definitely not working for me and I’m getting tired of trying.
Chapter Four
Addie
“You okay, Princess?” Dad asks over the phone.
I flop back on my bed and close my eyes. I’m lying on the bed, wrapped in a towel with another smaller towel around my hair. I soaked in the tub for hours, adding hot water until there was no more hot water to be found. I’ve finally calmed down and now I just feel like an idiot. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did to that officer. It all just exploded and got out of hand. I don’t even think he meant anything about me being a landscaper. After all, it is a male dominated field—much like being a chef is these days.
Which is exactly the problem.
I’m touchy about it. I know. Living in Paris was amazing, but most of my classmates were males. Growing up you have this mindset that your mother does the majority of the cooking and that’s how it was for me—until she died and I took over. But, once I decided to pursue the culinary field it became clear that the most successful chefs that I wanted to emulate were males. Then, I enrolled in school. That was an eye opener for sure. Being in Paris, it became apparent that to succeed I had to try twice as hard, work twice as hard and never show weakness. That’s been forged inside of me over the last few years and I reacted badly to the officer. I should have held my tongue—
“Princess?” Dad says again, drawing my attention back to the phone and our conversation.
“I wrecked the lawnmower, Dad,” I tell him, starting out with the easier part of the story. I’m not sure how much I’m going to tell him, honestly. But, he needs to know about the police car and the damage.
“The lawnmower? What in the hell were you doing out on the lawnmower, Adelle?”
“I wanted to clear my head and working outside usually helps.”
“Clear your head. I can guess what about. You’re going to have to forgive me for selling the house, Princess,” Dad says softly and I can’t stop the tears that boil up out of nowhere and begin seeping from my eyes.
“You should have told me,” I whisper, keeping my eyes closed and ignoring the hot tracks of tears running done my face.
“You would have asked me not to.”
“So? It was our home, Daddy. It was her home.”
“But she’s not here anymore, Princess. I was alone in that home. You weren’t there, she wasn’t there. The silence was killing me. Maybe what I did was wrong to you… but, I had to do it to survive.”
“Daddy—”
“Your mother was a special woman, Adelle. I loved her with all of my heart. I always will, but I had to keep living. Being in Mason feels right. I think your Mom would be happy for me and I hope you will too.”
I think over his words and although I know he’s right, my heart breaks just the same.
“You okay, Addie-girl?”
I know he’s talking about me being upset over Mom. Honestly, I miss her so much I don’t feel like I will ever be okay again. It’s like a piece of me is gone. So, instead of lying to him, I play dumb.
“The lawnmower’s not. I hit a cop car.”
“A cop car?”
“A bee flew down my shirt and I panicked. There was an officer that came by to leave a file for you.”
“Who was it?”
I think for a minute. I know somewhere in our shouting match with each other he gave a name. It finally comes back to me.
“I think he said Sheriff Parrish, or something like that.”
“Yeah, Luka. He’s a good guy I think. What did you think of him?”
A good guy?
“Well, he wasn’t really happy with me, Daddy. I just ruined his car…”
“I suppose so, but he’ll get over it. I really like Luka. He’s nothing like his father, and trust me when I tell you that in this case—that’s a good thing. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay, Daddy. I promise.”
“Okay, Princess. I’ll be home in a couple of days and we’ll spend some time together, just the two of us.”
“That sounds good.”
“For me too. Night, Addie-girl.”
“Night, Daddy,” I whisper as we hang up.
I lie there staring up at the ceiling for a little while. I’m still crying, but I ignore the tears. I’ve found that wiping them away just makes them fall harder.
“I miss you, Mommy,” I whisper out into the room.
Only quiet answers me
and I didn’t think it was possible, but my heart breaks a little more.
Chapter Five
Black
“What in the tarnation happened to you?”
I look up to see my mom standing at the front door and I love her, but I was really hoping she’d be gone when I got home.
“Nothing why?” I ask. I’m bone tired. I just want to crawl into bed with a bottle of Ibuprophen or Jack, whatever I find first that might help this headache.
“You look like you’ve been hit by a baseball bat,” she complains, coming down off the steps and meeting me at my car.
“Just a landscaper,” I mutter under my breath.
“What?”
“It’s nothing, Mom. I just got stung by a bee.”
“Stung by a bee? I’ve never seen one make a goose egg that big.”
“I’m just lucky I guess. I just want to take some pain meds and go to bed.”
"Bullshit. You’re going to the emergency room. That sucker is huge. You could be allergic.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake! I’m not allergic. I just need rest.”
“I know you did not just use that tone and those words on your Mama? You’re not too big to yank a knot out of your tail, you know, boy.”
When I don’t immediately respond, she grabs me by the ear and harshly pulls me down to her. It’s kind of humiliating to be treated like you’re an eleven-year-old by your mother. But, if I think about it, I know I probably deserve it.
“Sorry, Mom. It’s just been a fucked up day.”
“Come inside and let me put some crap on your head and tell me about it.”
“What kind of crap?” I ask, suddenly afraid.
“Just never you mind. It will make you better and that’s all you need to know. You got a slight allergy going on, boy. You’re lucky you didn’t get stung in your throat, it could have killed you. I’ve got to get something on you to draw the venom out.”