by Shea Swain
Aria turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. She closed the door then pushed her keys into her pocket. As she walked to the small brick building, she dragged her feet, allowing the baggy, a-little-too-long sweat pants bottoms scrape the ground. They were tattered but comfortable, so hey. She pulled open the Hut’s door that featured a picture of a hot dog inside a bun that was smiling at a soft-serve ice cream cone.
“Hey Aria.”
Aria waved, but didn’t look up at Calvin as she headed to the back of the small building to punch her time card. At one point she enjoyed spending time with her coworkers at the little hot dog and ice cream stand, but now…now she preferred to just be left alone.
“It isn’t that busy yet. You can start on the chili,” Calvin told her.
He was a manager in training and her friend since they were in grade school. At one point it seemed as though he may have had a little crush on her, but it went nowhere fast. That was how most of her crushes ended. Calvin was handsome, nice, and seemed to like hanging out with her, but he saw the invisible “no touch” sign on her forehead like all the other guys did. Thinking about it now, maybe his deteriorating interest was for the best, because Calvin’s most favorite thing in the world was his car and any woman that wanted to be in his life had to compete with that.
“Sure, I can start the chili,” she said, as she went to the sink, washed her hands, and poured water into a large pot.
A few hours later, Aria glanced at the wall clock above the carryout windows. It was a little after noon. “I’m going on break, Calvin.” She took off her apron and threw it over the stool she’d been sitting on.
“Going to McDonald’s?” Calvin called to her.
Aria grabbed her dad’s oversized hoodie she’d taken off when she arrived and pulled it over her head. “Nope,” she said, pushing the door open without caring how it banged shut. She walked the three blocks to the white house that doubled as a clinic. She bypassed the front of the house, going to the side of the structure that had the entrance to the clinic.
Dr. Frasier stood up from the receptionist desk when Aria opened the door. It was a small office and the doctor sometimes took over reception duties on the weekends to give her employee time off. Today was one of those days.
Aria had seen Dr. Frazier a couple of days after she’d returned home and at that time her blood was drawn and she gave a urine sample. She was given a clean bill of health, but Dr. Frazier had asked a lot of questions. Of course Aria had given nothing away, but Dr. Frazier gave her several pamphlets and vaginal cream. Aria had tossed the pamphlets on boyfriend abuse, and rape—that included a number to a help hotline—as soon as she’d left the office, but had used the soothing vaginal cream. Dr. Frasier had also told her then that she should return for a pregnancy test if she’d missed her menstrual cycle.
Aria’s cycle was late.
“I know you’re on your break”—Dr. Frasier handed her a container—“so if you give me a sample, we can have an answer for you in a few minutes.”
“Damn, girl,” Calvin said as he looked at the clock, “I didn’t think you were coming back.”
Aria handed him the bag she carried then took off her hoodie. “Sorry I’m late.” She didn’t give an excuse because it didn’t matter. Late was late, and the why of it was her business.
“Thought you weren’t going to McDonald’s,” Calvin said, clutching the bag and grinning.
“I wasn’t,”—Aria took a seat on the stool in front of her takeout window. “Hey, Bucky,” she said, to the guy poking half his body into Calvin’s window, then she gave Calvin an exaggerated smile. “I just decided to be nice.”
“What’s up with you, anyway?” Calvin asked, staring at her.
“Nothing.” She lifted the paperback she’d been reading for over a month from under the counter and opened it.
“Seriously, Aria? For weeks you have been here, but not here, ignoring me most of the time. And at school you barely talk to us anymore. Not to mention that you haven’t even said one word about prom.” Calvin shrugged. “You sit at the table with us at lunch and all, but for the most part you have been in your own little world. I’m beginning to worry. We all are. What’s up with you?” He bit into one of the double cheeseburgers she’d brought him.
“Nothing’s up, Cal,” she said, pushing the book away. “I’m just going through something private.” She placed her elbow on the counter, rested her chin in her hand, and looked out over the parking lot The Hut shared with Wal-Mart.
“Lizzy thought maybe you were picking up bad habits from Gail. You know she’s trash, right?” Bucky said, as he sipped his soda. Calvin was already on the second burger.
Aria looked over at Bucky. He was cute if you liked the blond-hair, blue-eyed, muscled and gorgeous farm-boy type. She did. Aria had kissed him at Howard’s party but that seemed like a lifetime ago. She’d thought him perfect then, but that was before she’d met Ian.
Ugh, don’t think about Ian.
“Yeah, soooo not picking up bad habits from”—she rolled her eyes—“Gail.”
“Because if you were…” Bucky grinned and raised a brow suggestively.
“I’m not!” Aria snapped. Classic—now he wanted to flirt when he had all but ignored her since their sad version of making out. “Don’t you have something better to do than sit here all day watching Calvin work?”
“Actually, I come here to watch you work, Ree. Which reminds me, why are you covering that sweet body of yours with sweats? It’s like the end of April, and the weather is beautiful.” He smiled.
She hated when anyone other than her parents used that name for her. It annoyed her, but not as much as the way he was looking at her with those deep blue eyes of his. Shaking her head, Aria sighed loud enough for Bucky to know she was bored of the conversation. Before turning back to her window, she stuck her tongue out at him.
“Anytime,” Bucky whispered.
Perfect timing, Romeo. Aria rolled her eyes again.
Calvin bit into another burger—his third and last—as he balled up the bag and tossed it into the garbage can. “I see your stalker’s back,” Calvin said, getting to his feet. He placed his cup under the orange fountain spout between their serving windows, filled it, then lifted it to his lips.
“What stalker?” she and Bucky asked at the same time.
“Whoever it is driving the silver BMW. I saw that car outside the school the other day and it sits facing The Hut every time you’re here. You’re the pretty one so…,” Calvin said dismissively.
Aria frowned as she looked over at Calvin. She didn’t know anyone who owned a silver BMW. Then it hit her. She didn’t know anyone with a BMW. Aria tensed as she turned back to the parking lot, her face pale, her eyes frantically sweeping over the cars.
“Chill out, Aria.” Calvin chuckled. “I was just being funny. Wasn’t Bernard talking about getting a new ride?” he said to Bucky. “It’s probably his car.”
Bucky stood up straight. He stepped over to her window. “Why are you looking so freaked, Ree?” he asked her. “The car probably belongs to Mr. Travers. When he’s not teaching, he moonlights at Wal-Mart, remember?”
Aria suddenly felt warm and it had nothing to do with her clothing. Her mind raced as she grabbed her hoodie off the back counter. “I have to go, Cal,” she said, rushing through the door.
“Aria,” Calvin called out.
She ignored him as she made her way through the maze of red and white umbrella tables and chairs. She needed to get home. God, can I even go home? What if they know where I live?
“Aria.”
Aria froze just a few feet from the safety of The Hut and only a short distance from her car.
“Aria, I don’t mean to upset you.”
Ian?
Closing her eyes, Aria let his words wash over her, feeling relieved even as her heart raced and her head spun. Ian showing up here in her town was bad, but what was worse was that she’d actually missed him. How in the
world was that remotely normal? It was a good thing her brain was working, because her body was screaming for her to open her eyes and face him. Her brain won. Aria cast her eyes down as she moved past him toward her car only to be pulled back and spun around to face her nightmare and her dreams.
“I swear I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” Ian pleaded, as he held her face between his hands.
Speechless, all Aria could do was look at him. He was even more handsome than she’d remembered. His smoke-gray eyes seemed to reach into her soul, pulling out things she wanted to keep hidden. His skin was darker, a smooth golden look that people of Mediterranean descent had naturally. Streamlined muscles lay hidden under his clothes, but a taste of what lay beneath the expensive-looking, snug-fitting T-shirt and khaki shorts could be seen on the parts of him that weren’t covered. She wanted to lean into him so badly that she had to bite her lip to stop herself.
“This guy bothering you, Ree?” Bucky asked, his face a mask of concern, his body tense.
Aria frowned as she glanced around Ian to Bucky who looked, of all things, menacing. Calvin stood beside Bucky with a look on his face she’d never seen on him. Who knew Calvin could actually get angry?
Ian let go of Aria, stepped away from her, and raised his hands defensively as he faced her friends. She took that opportunity to move toward her car, but as she stepped away, Ian grabbed her arm again. As soon as she felt a slight pull she was released, so she made for her car without looking back. Just as Aria reached for her door handle, she heard a grunt, some cursing, and a loud crash. A lot of hooting and cheering followed a brief silence.
Aria whipped around to see Bucky on his knees, holding his bleeding nose. Calvin was splayed out over one of the tables, and he looked unconscious. Her eyes shifted to Ian. He hadn’t moved, at least she didn’t think he had. Ian was in the same spot she’d left him in, with his eyes on her, his face expressionless.
“Dude,” a skateboarder kid eating with a small group at one of The Hut tables yelled, “did you see that? He pulled some Matrix shit on those fools.”
“Ian,” Aria said, running to Bucky, “what did you do?”
He shrugged. “They invaded my personal space.”
“You broke my nose, you asshole,” Bucky coughed. His words sounded all wrong.
Aria frowned at Ian’s blasé explanation. “Really?” she said, grabbing some tissues out of a napkin holder from the closest table. “So you broke his nose?” Aria bent down and placed the tissue over Bucky’s bloody hands, then looked at a girl she knew from school, who had probably seen what happened. “Can you check Calvin please, Sheila?”
Sheila looked at Ian with wide ‘come hither’ eyes before reluctantly going to Calvin. “What should I do to him?” she called out nervously.
“Call the coroner,” the skateboarder said. His comment sparked another laughing fit with occasional commentary from the other guys in his group.
Aria tried to calm Bucky as she dialed emergency services.
“So let me get this straight,” Sheriff Cole said. The man was tall, muscled, and had that intimidation thing down, but Ian wasn’t moved; though he was determined to remain respectful. “You came to see my daughter, but she didn’t want to see you, so you broke Bucky’s nose and laid Calvin flat on his ass.”
“Not exactly, sir.” Ian sat on the curb with his hands cuffed behind his back. The flashing lights of the police cruiser and ambulance drew a crowd around the hotdog stand and the two injured guys, making it hard for Ian to see Aria. With this being a small town, he wondered if the news station would cover something so minor because this little situation was front page news, it seemed.
A medic near the rear of an ambulance moved aside, giving Ian a clear view of Aria as she spoke with Calvin who was sitting up now, with an oxygen mask over his face.
This visit worked out well, Ian cursed to himself. He should have never approached her.
He’d been watching her since the day after she’d left him, without her knowing. He usually kept to the shadows, but the longer he stayed in Land’s End, the more he wanted to talk to Aria, to touch her.
“What’s your name, son?” Sheriff Cole asked.
Ian heard the question and didn’t mean to ignore the Sheriff, but he was enthralled by Aria as he watched her walking toward them. She looked…upset. Sheriff Cole snapped his large fingers in front of Ian’s line of sight, giving him no choice but to look up. By the way the Sheriff glared at him, it was clear he didn’t like the way Ian was watching his daughter.
“My name is Ian, sir,” he answered, then turned his attention to Aria as she came to a stop in front of her father.
“Daddy, I need to talk to you.” Aria didn’t so much as glance in Ian’s direction.
Great, he thought.
Ian watched as Aria and her father moved away from him to talk. Every now and then the Sheriff glanced over at him. What is Aria telling him? Sheriff Cole couldn’t know about what happened to Aria at his uncle’s mansion, because something told Ian that if the Sheriff did, he’d already be dead.
Oh shit…shit, shit! The way the Sheriff was eyeing him now… Shit! Is Aria crying? Shit! Shit!
Sheriff Cole straightened, squared his shoulders, looked down, then took a deep breath before looking over at Ian again. Were those flames in the man’s eyes that were focused on him? The way the sheriff marched over to him made Ian want to push back, get to his feet, and prepare to defend his life. Only, Ian remained where he sat. But when Sheriff Cole reached for him, Ian actually winced.
“So…Ian”—the Sheriff grunted as he undid the plastic tie that secured Ian’s hands behind his back—“looks like you have dinner plans tonight.” Before Ian could stand, a heavy hand gripped his shoulder. “Seven o’clock, and if I were you son, I wouldn’t be late.” Sheriff Cole jotted the address on a piece of paper and handed it to him.
“No, sir,” Ian said, looking around for Aria. She was nowhere in sight, so he walked to the silver BMW, rubbing his wrist. He had a dinner date to get ready for.
IAN PULLED UP TO THE Cole residence at 6:30. He had planned to sit in the car until a quarter till, but the door opened and Sheriff Cole waved him inside.
“Time to face the music,” Ian sang. He turned off the engine and got out of the car. As he walked up the path to the house that Aria lived in, her father held the screen door open for him.
“Sir,” Ian said, handing Mr. Cole a bottle of wine.
“Ian.” Mr. Cole took the bottle as he held the door open. “Aria and the Mrs. are in the kitchen. Follow me.”
The house was nice, a great deal smaller than Ian’s, but most were. His father would say it was plain, homely; as if that was bad. To Ian it was the way a home should be. It looked lived in. The occupants made use of it and its space, unlike his family home.
Ian slowed as they walked through the living room to look at all the pictures displayed of Aria throughout her years. He smiled when he saw the picture of her in a rainbow shirt with her two front teeth missing. Even then with her mane of dark brown luxurious curls and her round flawless face, Aria was a beauty.
Ian met up with Mr. Cole in the dining area that had an open view of the kitchen. He found Aria right away. It was as if time slowed for him alone when he saw her. She was reaching up to get glasses out of one of the cabinets. Her hair, a shimmering fall of dark silk, was straight tonight and falling in an even mass just above her waist. She wore a peach sundress that fit her body perfectly. So perfectly that he found himself silently praying his hormones would relax.
When she turned to place the glasses on the counter, Ian saw all of her beautiful face. She was wearing makeup, light and delicate, the way he preferred. As if she’d sensed him, Aria looked up and their eyes met. He saw a brightness to her that glowed in her eyes in that brief moment, and what he knew was an authentic smile. But then it was gone, replaced with a friendly grin and an apologetic shrug.
She seemed to think over what to do for a
second before she moved. Ian’s heart pumped into overdrive as she walked toward him. What is she doing? It wasn’t until she stepped in front of him, her eyes pleading, that he guessed what Aria intended to do. Only...she hesitated, but he didn’t.
Ian pulled her to him and buried his face in her hair as he held her tight. Her panic seemed to defuse with his arms around her and she even laid her head on his shoulder. When her father cleared his throat, Aria stiffened then stepped away, looking more nervous than she had before the hug.
“Hello, Ian.” As Aria moved to the side of him, Mrs. Cole stepped forward and hugged him. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
It was clear where Aria got her beauty. Ian smiled at her. “I hate to sound cliché but all good things I hope.”
Mrs. Cole smiled—“All good.”
“Well, I heard nothing.” Mr. Cole grunted, handing his wife the wine.
Mrs. Cole playfully smacked her husband’s shoulder. “Why thank you, Ian.” She took the bottle and read the label. Her eyes grew wide. “Really, you shouldn’t have. We couldn’t…”
Mr. Cole popped a piece of cubed cheese in his mouth. “Why not?”
Ian looked at Aria when he spoke knowing what he was about to say may freak her out. “I wanted to introduce myself sooner, but didn’t know how Aria might feel about it. I bought the wine then, but… I guess I lost my nerve.” What he’d said didn’t have Aria freaking out, but she wasn’t smiling either. “It’s yours, really,” Ian said, as he met Mrs. Cole’s blushing gaze. He gently pushed at the bottle she was trying to hand back to him.
“What’s the big deal?” Mr. Cole asked, as he snatched the wine.
Mrs. Cole gently pulled the bottle out of her husband’s grip. “It’s a bottle of Chateau Margaux, you Neanderthal.” She carefully carried the bottle to the counter and sat it down gently before ushering everyone into the dining room.