by Lila Felix
Henry interjected, “And Mallory really wants you to make her an iron pot hanger. She’s been groaning about the one you made for Mrs. Riley for months. So we thought we could all trade.”
“What about Cami? She’s the one doing the work.”
Henry’s brow grew stern, “As far as I’m concerned, Cami is earning her keep. We will cut back her work on the farm so she can work here twice a week.”
I stuck out my hand to shake on it. I loaded the wood into my truck and promised Henry to have the pot holder to their house in no later than three days. But Cami having to work twice a week for weeks on end didn’t really translate into a fair trade. So, I’d have to make a lot more than a pot hanger for Mallory—and maybe just for good measure I’d throw in something for the Duchess.
After running some more errands in town, I got back home just in time for Will to pull up, home from school. But she didn’t get out of the Jeep and I knew something was up. Will was usually the bouncy, giddy type, even when nothing particularly exciting was going on. I walked over to the Jeep and knocked on the door even though she’d already seen me.
“Are you okay?”
She turned to face me, tears streaming down her face, “Jesse says she doesn’t have time to hang out with me anymore. She’s got some boyfriend who’s in college.”
I pulled her out of the Jeep and hugged her to my chest. If Jesse was behaving like that, then she didn’t deserve Will as a friend. And my sister needed a better person to rely on.
“Why don’t you call Cami and see if she has time to talk to you?”
“Really,” she asked, looking up at me.
“Yeah, why not?”
“I just thought—since you two were…”
“What, that you two can’t be friends now? You were serious this morning? That’s ridiculous. Go call her.”
Will nodded but a few minutes later came out, just as defeated.
“What?” I called after her.
“Mrs. Macon says Cami is still making up from lost work yesterday. She’s got tons of chores still to do.”
I looked around the property, my own work piled up around me and rolled my eyes. It used to strike me as funny for Cami to be up to her eyeballs in work, but now I couldn’t stand it. I knew the Macon’s were just trying to teach her the value of hard work, but I knew how hard their work could be. Plus, I felt like shit for being the reason her chores were doubled today.
“Get dressed for work, Will. We’re about to go show the duchess what community is all about.”
“Really?” She jumped up and down. When did my sister become such a—girl?
“Hurry up before I change my mind.”
She tripped over the stairs going into the house and I groaned at myself. How was I gonna explain this to the Macon’s? If I didn’t offer some kind of excuse, I was gonna look like a prime cut of ass—and Henry didn’t eat donkey.
The screen door slammed and Will bounced from the porch to the Jeep, just as excited on the outside as I refused to admit I was on the inside. We drove the few minutes to the Macon’s farm and Henry and Mallory were sitting on the porch, nursing cups of coffee—which royally pissed me off. How were they supposed to teach her a lesson about a good work ethic while they perched themselves on rocking chairs and watched her work?
Will jumped out and greeted them and I just barely managed a wave while I made my way to the barn. I knew that one of her chores was cleaning the barn and I knew the Duchess would probably leave the job for last. Immediately, I was smacked in the face by the smell of manure and thanked God that my father had chosen smithing instead of sheparding—and that he didn’t have an affinity for horses.
I’d gotten through three stalls before I was caught.
“If people keep taking up her slack, she’ll never learn.”
It was Henry and red rage filled in my sight. But I’d once had the same attitude towards her, so I had no room to judge.
“Mr. Macon, can I just ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“What time did Cami get up this morning?”
He looked in the air as if it would give him the answer, “A little before five.”
“And how many breaks have you seen her take?”
“She stopped for lunch, that’s all.”
“With all due respect, Henry, she’s working her butt off. Even my father took a morning coffee break and another afternoon one. But it’s nearing four now and she’s only stopped to eat. I know you’re trying to teach her the value of a work ethic and that’s honorable, but you also need to see when she’s learning it. She’s serious about making a change, but you’re never gonna see what good has come of it if you don’t give her a chance to be different.”
In response, he gave me the down-dirtiest look I’ve ever seen Henry Macon give another man.
“And how would you know?”
I squirmed under his scrutiny.
“Because I’ve gotten to know her over the past couple of weeks. She’s not a bad person. She’s just made some bad choices. I think we all know a little something about that.”
I certainly did.
He kicked at some stray hay on the ground, “That must be the boot prints that lead to her window—though I know you wouldn’t break my trust by entering my house without my permission.”
Now that pissed me off. Neither one of us deserved that, though I wouldn’t deny the thought had crossed my mind.
“No, Sir. I think you know my parents raised me better. I sat outside her window and talked to her—just talked. If you think I’m doing something wrong, I won’t come back.”
His face and attitude deflated at the mention of my parents. He’d lost sight of who I was in his quest to redeem Cami.
“No, no Stockton. I know you’d never do anything out of line.”
I nodded and went about cleaning out stalls. After a few minutes of hush, he walked out of the barn. I didn’t know if I’d made the situation better or worse. And Cami deserved some of his distrust, but my heart couldn’t just stand there and listen to him degrade her. There was a difference in teaching and punishing. And Cami was here to learn, not to be a slave.
After the last stall was cleaned and the last horse was fed and watered, I looked around for Cami or Will to see what was next. I spotted her in a pair of overalls with a pink tank top underneath, rubber boots and her hair was swirled up into some kind of awful thing atop her head. She could pass for the most breathtaking hillbilly known to man—easy. She and Will were talking while carrying baskets of eggs towards the house. I decided to meet up with them but then I caught a whiff of myself.
“Damn it, I smell like I rolled in horse shit.”
I trekked over to the side of the barn where a hose was hooked up and tore off my boots. I sprayed them down with water and just as I was satisfied with the absence of manure, I smelled more of it, closer this time. I looked down, pulling my t shirt away from myself to inspect it and there it was—a chunk of crap right on my damned shirt. It must’ve backlashed onto my shirt as I cleaned my boots. I had no choice, I had to peel the shirt off and try to rinse it clean.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the pink halt and the other figure continue walking. Cami was watching me. Why in the hell she would stop to see me wash crap off of myself was beyond me—unless she was gonna make fun of me for it later. So I picked up my boots, already dry from the sun and slipped them back on. Thank goodness I always carried an extra shirt or two in the back of every vehicle. I was habitually dirty, so it just made good sense. Her eyes stayed on me the entire walk to the Jeep. I reached under the seat and pulled out an old grocery sack, with two old tshirts tucked inside. I pulled one over my head and looked back to where she was, but Cami was gone. After looking around, I found her on the porch handing the basket to Mallory who, unlike Henry, seemed to have softened towards Cami a bit. I walked over to the porch and asked what was left to do.
“Ugh—I still have to slop the pigs and sweep the por
ch. After that, I’m done?” She looked to Mallory for confirmation. Confirmation I hoped she’d get.
“Yep. Just those two things and you can get washed up for dinner. Stockton, Willa, would you like to join us?”
I looked at Will, “You can stay if you want to. I’ve got things to do.”
I saw Cami’s face fall a little and took a sliver of pleasure in the fact that she wanted me to stay.
“Yeah, Cami, can you give me a ride home?”
She switched her gaze to Will and coupled it with a smile, “Of course.”
I cleared my throat and broke us up, “I will slop the pigs if you sweep, Will.”
“Deal,” Will ran into the house to get the broom and Mallory followed her.
“I can do it,” Cami protested with her hands perched on her curves.
I closed the space between us, compelled to get closer to her, “I know you can, Duchess. I just want to—for you. Why don’t you get inside and get cleaned up for dinner. You earned it.”
Moving a strand of hair from the side of her cheek and curling it behind her ear, I noticed a pink line that began somewhere in her hair line and ended right at her temple, “What’s this on my duchess?”
“Oh,” she covered it back up, smoothing some hair down over it, “the accident. A little reminder.”
I touched it again, undoing her work, “We all have scars, covering them up doesn’t make us forget.”
I placed my hand on the back of her head and wound my fingers through the strands pulled up into that mess on top of her head. I intended to simply kiss her forehead—I swore my intentions to myself. But as my lips tasted the sweet salt on her forehead all bets were off. “Cami, you drive me insane. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
My lips took a path of their own, whispering kisses along the bridge of her nose, the apples of her cheeks, the corner of her mouth. I hovered my mouth above hers, the outlines of our lips barely making contact and hers formed the word, “Stockton.”
And then my sister plowed through the screen door, instantly deflating my want and cockblocking me at the same time.
“Damn it, Will.” I groaned through a clenched jaw at my sister.
Cami smiled up at me and snorted. Who knew California girls snorted?
I did.
I groaned, loud enough that even the sheep knew how aggravated I was and stalked towards those damned pigs. And if bacon didn’t taste so good, I would wish pigs away for good. They were just pissing me off with their very creation and their need to eat all the damned time.
I fed the oinkers with the bucket of leftovers Mallory kept by the back door and then made my way back to the Jeep. Cami, Will and the Macon’s were already inside, the light above the dining room table the only one visible from outside. I didn’t even bother saying goodbye. I had to get home to finish Will’s chores—again—third day in a row. Funny thing was—I didn’t even mind. Her happiness was worth a few measly chores.
I did everything and then sloshed into a hot shower, my muscles grateful for the soothing warmth. The bathroom window faced the side of the house and I saw a pair of headlights flash through my sight through the shower door. It was Will coming home and though I wanted to see Cami, I couldn’t tear myself from the solace the shower afforded me just yet.
I came out, starving and tired. I plowed through the fridge, looking for something quick to eat.
“She sent you a plate home—fixed it herself.”
I turned around to see Will, holding a plate with a note attached. I put the note to the side and dug in.
“The note’s from Cami, you ogre. She made the plate herself. She also brought it in but you were in the shower.”
She made it for me?
It was probably the homo-cavamanus in me coming out to play, but Cami filling up a plate of food for me to eat made me want to grunt.
And beat my chest.
And knock her over the head with an anvil and drag her to my shop.
Shit.
I reached for the note and Will exited, she probably smelled the apeman pheromones coming from my skin and ran for the mountains.
Eat up hillbilly. My window. Tonight. And I have a surprise for you. ~Cami
Suddenly the sleepiness was stolen from my bones.
I cleared my plate of smothered pork chops, green beans and roasted sweet potatoes in record time. It was only seven though and the Macon’s wouldn’t be asleep until nine at the earliest. I went back to the truck, grabbed the horse shit shirt and threw it and some other clothes in the wash. Will came out of her room, books and notebooks in hand to do her schoolwork at the table, so I went out to the back porch and called Bridger. Whatever he’d been upset about that morning had been needling me all day.
He answered on the third ring, “Hey Stock.”
It wasn’t my brother’s usual voice. In fact, it was a tone which made me want to jump in the truck and drive to Vandy.
“Bridger, what’s going on with you? Who’s this girl you’ve been seeing?”
“I, um, I can’t talk right now. Hasn’t Will said anything to you?”
“No, you told Will?” His drama had my head spinning.
“No, I didn’t. I just—I’ll call you tomorrow or next week.”
He hung up before I could even say goodbye—the punk.
I sat down in the rocker and remembered sitting in the same spot as a kid, watching my parents. They stayed out late all the time, still on the property but in a place and time all to themselves. They’d always been the best parents, just the right mix of affection and discipline. But when they were together, outside on their little ventures, they were two young kids, alone and in love and nothing could touch them. I’d watched Dad hang Christmas lights from one of the pear trees to the other while my mom was out with Mallory. I asked him why but he just smiled and refused to answer. But later that night, propped behind the lattice on the porch, I watched my father lead my mother underneath the strings of electric stars and they danced for hours on end—no music—no space between. Or they’d park the truck in the back of the house and Dad would pile it up with blankets and they’d simply watch the stars. But he always, always made sure she knew who loved her and where she belonged.
Those episodes, paired with his everyday kindness, is where I’d discovered that one day—that’s the kind of husband I wanted to be.
An image of Cami, bundled in white flashed in my mind.
Was I enough for her?
Would she be able to live someplace like this—with someone as simple as me?
With someone as grimy and grumpy as me?
Ah, hell, I can’t even live with myself right now. Sappy assed son of a bitch.
I put the images in my hindbrain and focused on the moment. I went back in the house and busied myself with everyday things until I noticed it was well past nine, almost ten. Will was already back in her room and I snuck out, making sure my seat was still in the back. It seemed like the Macon’s house was hours away that night. But I got to the window at five minutes until ten and knocked—and knocked. But she must’ve been asleep. She deserved sleep after the hours she’d put in. But I needed her voice tonight, so I knocked one more time.
The window opened and she pulled a robe tighter around herself—pity.
“Hey, I’m sorry, you were asleep.”
She shook her head, trying to deny it, “No, I was just resting my eyes.”
“Ok, so you said you had a surprise for me?”
Parts of me twitched at the prospects floating through my head.
“Yeah,” she smiled and then reached to the corners of the windowsills. I heard two clicks and then the entire screen fell out of the window.
We both froze at the noise it made clanking to the ground, hoping it wouldn’t awaken her keepers. After a few seconds she ran back into the room and pulled a chair up to the window and I brought my stool closer to her.
“That was pretty damned good for a Beverly Hills girl.”
She sto
od and had the gall to curtsy and wink at me.
I’d never seen a sexier curtsy in all my life.
“So, I came with a list tonight.”
She didn’t look impressed, “A list?” She may as well have turned her nose up and slammed the window on my fingers.
“Yes. So, number one: When’s your birthday?”
She blushed a little, “Um, April first.”
“April Fool’s Day,” I questioned.
“Yeah, surprise, it’s a terrible teenager in progress. My mom and dad were so not prepared for me. But to be fair, they weren’t really interested in have any kids. Katie and I just filled in their required American demographics. Still…. someone should have warned them about their future train wreck. It just doesn’t seem fair.”
“Not true. Beautiful, smart, hard-working woman in progress. That’s what they should’ve said.”
She backed up a little like I’d stunned her again. I hoped that one day my compliments wouldn’t sting as much.
“Screw the list. Tell me everything.”
And she did. She told me all about growing up in California and her friends. Somewhere in the conversation she started playing with my fingers and by the time she’d exhausted her conversational options, both of our hands were tangled together. But when she yawned for the third time in an hour, I decided to dismiss myself.
Even though what I wanted to do was vault through the window.
Relieve her of that robe, so guilty of over-covering her skin.
And really give Henry something to complain about.
“I’d better let you get to sleep, Duchess. We’ve both got work tomorrow.”
“Stockton?”
Why is it that my name sounded like a breath of hope on her lips?
I felt the heat flowing between us despite the chilly night and wished we were in a position where we could both be warm.
My heart thumped in my chest, recognizing the promise of making her warm.
Like the steel encasing of my heart cracked open, just a little bit more.
Not just an existence—not just going through the motions—life.
“Yeah?”
“Do hillbillies usually take this long to kiss a girl or are you purposefully trying to drive me batshit?”