by Hall, S. E.
“Evan, my sweet boy,” she grabs the back of my head and moves it to kiss my cheek, “you were always like a son to Dale. He thought the world of you.” She pats my cheek. “You’ve gotten even more handsome since I saw you last. How are you?”
“Fine, ma’am.” I sit down and clutch one of her hands in mine. “What can I do for you? How can I help?”
She cups her other hand over the top of our already joined ones and pats. “I think it’d be great if you would be a pallbearer with your daddy and Mr. Walker, and Parker, of course.” She smiles up at her son. “That’s who Dale would have picked.”
“It’d be,” I suppress a sob, “my honor. Thank you.”
“What about Laney girl?” She almost laughs, sniffling. “You think she wants to help? You know her, I can just see insulting her by thinking she wouldn’t want to carry with the men.”
Parker and I both chuckle, despite the sadness, at the accuracy of Angie’s words.
“It’s okay, Mama, I think she’ll be okay just knowing you thought of her. I’ll tell her,” Parker offers, moving to his mom’s side.
That’s all she could get out, her body now suddenly wrenching and the sounds escaping her positively blood-curdling. It’s depressing and a little scary and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.
“Come on,” Parker says calmly as he helps her up, Hayden scurrying to the other side, “let’s get you to bed now. Time for another pill.”
I stay sitting right where I am, frozen to the spot. The house looks exactly the same… What a stupid thought, of course it does. It’s looked this way as long as I can remember—why would it change just because he’s gone?
“Evan, did you meet the love of my life?”
I startle at Parker’s voice behind me and stand quickly, facing him and Hayden.
“Yes, I met Hayden.” I give her a smile.
“Best girl in the whole world.” He kisses her cheek and she leans into it. “Dad loved her first time he met her. Told me she was a keeper.”
“Well, we all know he had a keen sense.” I wink at her and she giggles softly.
“Y’all stop, you’re embarrassing me. Can I get you a drink or anything, Evan? Babe?”
Parker looks at me and I shake my head no. “No, we’re fine,” he answers her. “You go rest, you been waiting on everybody.”
“I’m gonna go sit with your mom, make sure she falls asleep all right.”
“Thank you, angel,” he says, squeezing her hand. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Parker.” She gives him a quick kiss and he pats her butt as she leaves the room.
“Gonna marry her,” he proclaims as sure as anything.
“She’s wonderful. I’m happy for you, man.”
“Come on, shitsack, let’s have some beers. We can toast the old man. We gotta go in the barn though. If Hayden catches us, she’ll think I’m deflecting. That’s her favorite word.” He laughs and grabs a six pack from the fridge.
I follow him into to the barn, the memories flooding me. “Hey, Sebastian.” I pat the horse’s head; Laney’s favorite. Dale had let her name him, and of course, she’d done so after the crab in The Little Mermaid. There’s a duck waddling around somewhere named Aladdin and the barn cat is Figaro.
“So,” Parker interrupts my reminiscing, “let’s deflect. Tell me about you, ‘cause I can’t think about my dad right now.”
“Not much to tell, really. I transferred to Southern.”
He nods, taking a drink. “I heard.”
“Laney’s in love.”
“Heard that too.”
“Kaitlyn turned out to be a two-faced snake.”
“Already knew that.”
Guess we’re all caught up.
Parker takes the lead on our exhilarating conversation. “Laney coming?”
“Yeah.” I go ahead and grab a beer out of the pack; if ya can’t beat ‘em and all. “Should be here soon.”
“Bringing her new man?”
“Yeah.”
He props his chair back, propping his feet against a stall. “I always thought the two of you would end up together.”
“Me too.” I pop one shoulder up. “Guess that’s what we get for thinking.”
“You all right?”
His father just died and he’s worried about me? It makes me feel like a shallow ass that we’re talking about my problems in the shadow of the much bigger picture, but if that’s what makes him feel better, I’ll take the heat. “Yeah, man, I’m fine. It sucked at first, but every day is a little easier.”
I think of Whitley and almost feel guilty, in light of things, at the small grin that escapes. She’s the reason it’s a bit easier, plain and simple, no matter how I try to fight it. Then I think of how shitty I’d treated her earlier and my face falls; I could kick myself.
“Who is she?” Parker asks, a grin on his face.
“Who’s who?” I ask, willing my face to look as blank as possible.
“The girl you’re not telling me about.”
“How’d you know that?” Damn, Parker’s more aware of my life than even I am.
“I didn’t.” His grin widens. “You just told me.”
“Dick!” I flick my beer tab at him. “She’s just a friend. Can’t go there with her, too risky.”
“That’s your problem, Allen, no risk. You’ve been wrapped up in Laney for so long, you’ve never opened yourself up to other possibilities. You ever think maybe Laney always seemed so perfect to you because you never dared let her have a little competition?”
“That’s not true. I messed around with a few girls.”
“Messed around,” he scoffs. “Big deal. You ever date? Get to know anybody? Let ‘em in?” He knows the answer, he just wants me to say it.
“Why are we talking about this anyway?” I turn now, engrossed once again in Sebastian. “Shouldn’t we be figuring out what to do about your mom, or this farm?”
“Only thing that’s gonna help Mama is time,” he says. His voice holds a melancholy tone, but only for a moment. “Farm’s simple; I’m coming home to run it. Gonna ask Hayden to marry me and come with. Give my mama some grandkids to love.”
“Parker,” I face him abruptly, trying to hide the condescension in my voice, “you’re what, just turned twenty? Are you sure you’re not rushing things? Your dad would want you to finish school, be sure. Your mom can hire somebody to run the place until you have summer breaks and graduate.”
“I was always gonna come home and run this farm one day. Why do I need a college degree for that? Besides, I like farming. And I love Hayden, more than anything. I want her with me, always. I wish like hell my dad was still here,” he takes a long drink of beer, “but he’s not. I know what’s right. This is what I’m meant to do. Now.”
“I just think you should—”
“Honey, you out here?” Hayden comes in the barn, her eyes seeking out Parker. “Oh Parker, are you out here deflecting?”
“Told ya,” Parker mouths to me, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “No, just out here having a beer with my oldest friend. Big difference.”
“Come to bed,” she wraps her arms around his waist, “you’re tired. I’ll give you a back rub,” she croons persuasively.
I’m already walking to my truck, more than sure what his response will be. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Jones. Try to get some rest.”
Evan: You awake?
She’s probably asleep. It’s late and I’m a spineless heel for texting instead of calling in the first place, especially at this hour. But it dings.
Whitley: Yes. How are you?
Evan: Sorry.
Whitley: Nothing to be sorry for, Evan. It’s a crazy time, I understand.
Evan: Can I call you?
Whitley: Anytime.
“Hi,” she answers, her voice soft and kind like always, even after she’s been undeservingly treated badly; not a doormat, never a martyr, just…Whitley. I feel sorry for every dumbass
who didn’t recognize her before, every fool who didn’t appreciate the refreshing, beautiful traits this girl has to offer.
“Hi, Whit. Promise I didn’t wake you up?”
“Promise.”
“I just kinda need to talk. And,” I take a deep breath, “I wanted it to be to you.”
“I’m right here.”
She always says the right thing. She always says it in the right voice. She confuses the hell out of me; I can only imagine what I’m doing to her.
I tell her about my night; my concerns about Parker’s plans, my hurt for Angie, and even my greatest memories of Dale. She listens and offers little pieces of agreement, or advice, but argues with me freely when she feels the need. At this point in my life, I can honestly say, there’s no one I’d rather talk to.
Already knowing it’s a bad idea, I push away that thought, and force out the words. “I wish you were here, Whitley.”
“I am.”
“No, I mean here here, by my side.”
“I’m at Bonnie’s Bed and Breakfast. You know it?”
Of course I know it, Bonnie’s been playing Bridge with my mom every Wednesday afternoon since I don’t know when. “I know it.” I pause and my heartbeat speeds up. “You’re really there? I mean here?”
“I’m really here. I was hoping you’d want me, or need me, or whatever,” she’s whispering now, “so I came. I would have seen you at the service, but then…you called.”
But then I called. And she’s here. For me. Right down the road. Sleepy. Snuggly.
And I’m here for a funeral…thinking like this.
“What room are you in?” I ask as I jump up and pull on my jeans and boots. I pull a t-shirt over my head, not stopping to examine the excitement coursing through me; that doesn’t seem right at this time and makes me feel guilty. But dammit if I haven’t felt anticipation like this in a while.
“213,” she rushes out, her breathlessness matching my own.
Does she feel the gravity of this moment like I do? Could I ever express to her in words what this means to me, how deeply and profoundly she has touched me?
She’s here… I will never be the same.
“That’s a bottom outside door, right?”
“Yes.”
“Be there in ten.”
Quietly, I pick up my keys and ease out the front door silently. My truck slips into gear and I roll it down the driveway like I’m not almost twenty and able to leave when I want to. When I’m a ways from the house, I start the engine, and in six more minutes, I’m standing in front of door 213.
Shit. She’s wearing tiny shorts and a thin shirt, no bra, and her generous chest leaves no room for doubt. Her blonde hair falls around her shoulders and her blue eyes are sleepy, half-lidded. I force my eyes to stay on hers.
“Come in,” she says quietly, and I step inside.
My pulse is hammering so hard I can feel each beat in my neck, my mouth suddenly dry as cotton. I run my sweaty palms down my jeans as I look around. There’s one big bed and one chair in the room. She’s got the TV on, but muted. That’s the only light, the TV, which is plenty. I can make out the outline of her body through the worn material of her top. I can see her nipples, hard and wanting. I can tell her lips are shiny from being licked.
I shouldn’t be here; this is a very bad idea. I could tell myself I just need a friend, for comfort, but that’s a lie. I’m madly attracted to Whitley and I want so badly to throw away my worries about hurting her, or her hurting me, and selfishly take her in my arms.
Selfish it is.
When I move to her, she doesn’t give an inch, but stays right where she is, her breath quickening and heavy, her eyes challenging. She wants me too. My hands move gradually, brushing up her neck to clutch in her hair, the moan escaping her making me twitch. Damn, but she’s beautiful. Delicate. Fragile. She leaves her eyes open, drinking me in, telling me “yes, it’s okay,’” without words. My lips are inches from hers, so close I can feel her warm puffs of breath against mine. I close my eyes, moving in for the taste of what I so desperately want.
And my phone trills loudly from my pocket, jerking me back in surprise.
Yeah, the phone rings at that exact moment…how convenient and unlikely, right?
It fucking happened.
Given the current crisis we’re all dealing with, of course I’m gonna answer it. The moment now long gone, I rub the back of my neck roughly with one hand while I hold the phone with the other, staring at the faded brown carpet rather than Whitley.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Evan, it’s Laney. Just wanted to let you know we’re here, at Dad’s. I sent yours home and got mine to bed. Thank you.”
“Not a problem, glad you made it.”
“So, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.” I exhale, wishing it was anything but what we have to do the next day. “See ya tomorrow.”
I hang up and take my time putting up my phone, examining everything in the room before I look back to Whitley. “I’m sorry, Whit. I shouldn’t have come here. I’m an ass.”
“Why do you say that?” She frowns. “I’m glad you came.” She shifts, going to come to me, but I back up.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Whit. You’re such a great person, and I’m not sure what this is,” I point from myself to her, “but I don’t want to lose you.”
“Why would you lose me?”
“If we became more than friends, and it didn’t work out, we wouldn’t be friends anymore. And,” my hands move through my hair on their own and pull in frustration, “what if we’re just, I don’t know, convenient? Whitley, I’m just… I’m not sure what’s real and I don’t want to lose anybody else I care about. I’ve had all that fun I can stand.”
She’s on me in a flash, her arms hugged around my waist, hands rubbing my back. “Go home, Evan, and go to bed. You’re tired and distraught. I don’t want to be somebody’s convenience, or second guess, but I will still be your friend. Okay?” She lifts her pretty face up to smile feebly at me.
“Okay,” I agree, moving quickly to the door, feeling damn lucky she gave me an out. How can I do right by her, be honest with her, when I can’t even make sense of things myself? The myriad of emotions lately, it’s just all too much. Heartbreak to some relief to confusion to extreme grief; I just need to go numb for a while.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Night, Evan.”
CHAPTER 17
Will The Real Slugger Please Stand Up?
***Evan***
Have you ever been to a sunny funeral? I know I’ve seen processions go by when it’s nice outside, so it must happen, just not to me, and not now. Seems like it’s always unseasonably cold, or a freak snow, or in this case…not really raining, but drizzling enough to remind you it’s a shitty day.
We all look on as our friend, our mentor, is lowered into the ground. The pallbearers all wore a white rose on their lapel, and I unpin mine and toss it into the hole with Dale before finally turning to leave. I help Parker get his mom to the waiting limo, then walk with Whitley over to Laney, her dad, and Dane. Laney had spoken at the funeral and I want to tell her how beautiful it was. I know it was hard for her, but she held her head high and squelched her tears like a trooper.
“You did well, Laney,” I say as we approach. “Dale would be real happy. You know besides Angie, you were always his favorite girl, right?”
“Yeah.” She nods and grins sadly, looking at her feet. “He was one of my favorites too.”
“Mr. Walker,” Whitley offers her hand, “I’m Whitley Thompson, Laney’s friend. Nice to meet you.”
What an ass I am, not introducing her. I don’t even remember if I’d officially done so with Parker or Angie; this whole day is a bit of a fog.
“It’s nice to meet you, young lady. Thank you for coming today.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I’ll see you kids later. I’m gonna head over to sit with Angie a bit.”
<
br /> “Bye, Daddy.” Laney gives him a hug. “I love you, so much.”
“Love you, Slugger. See ya at home.” He turns. “Dane,” he nods, “Evan,” he pats my shoulder.
Whitley’s gasp turns all our heads. “Laney, you don’t really hit people, do you?! And your father encourages it?”
Dane starts chuckling under his breath; he must get something Laney and I don’t because her face looks as puzzled as I feel.
“What are you talking about?” Laney asks.
“Slugger?” Whitley answers, like duh.
Dale wouldn’t care if we laughed at his funeral, thank God, because we’re all busting out now. Hell, he’d laugh too.
“Whitley,” I put my hand on her shoulder, mostly to hold myself up through the laughter, “she doesn’t slug people. Well, not often. It’s a term,” I catch my breath, “for a good batter, like softball.”
“Ohhh,” her cheeks flush and she rests one hand over her heart, “of course. Thank goodness.”
Laney’s grinning ear to ear and I really am glad to see it. It’s such a sad day, and of all people, Whitley had found a way to brighten her mood. Hell, she brightened all our moods. Whenever I think of Dale, having to carry his casket, standing in the rain with Laney and her boyfriend…I’ll smile at the end when I remember right now.
Or then again, maybe not. My back stiffens and the hairs on my neck stand up, sensing evil.
“Hey, Evan.”
How tacky can you get, risking starting shit at a funeral? Whitley can sense my distress and looks up at me, worry in her eyes. Laney? Her grin has disappeared and I can see her teeth grinding from here. I give Dane a look, then dart my eyes to Laney, hoping he understands.
He must have, as one arm goes tightly around Laney’s shoulders and he steps in closer to her. Laney won’t disrespect Dale, or his family, by cleaning this bitch’s clock at his funeral, but she may drag her off by her hair and do it someplace else.
“Kaitlyn,” I bite out, not turning to face her.
Dane’s eyes pop wide when I say her name. I’m guessing Laney told him because he stiffens and starts nudging Laney to leave. “Come on, baby, let’s go.”