As Good as the First Time

by K. M. Jackson

  Besides, right now Liv was happy for the bit of peace and quiet. She hadn’t truly been alone for any length of time since coming out to Sugar Lake, she mused as she made it out back and walked around to survey Aunt Joyce’s garden. She took in the bounty of Aunt Joyce’s crop. Cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, lettuce, and greens, both mustard and collard. When the woman found the time to cultivate all of it and run Goode ’N Sweet was a mystery. The fact that Aunt Joyce considered such a thing no big deal was also astounding. Liv felt as if she was practically looking at the full produce section of her local New York grocery store and here it was, outside Aunt Joyce’s back door.

  It was funny, but only a few days in the sleepy town of Sugar Lake, jobless—well, except the predawn wake-up calls to get to the shop and get to baking and hanging with her extended family—and already New York felt like half a lifetime away. She barely missed her tiny apartment with her neighbor’s loud reggae music coming through the living room wall. And she definitely didn’t miss her four-inch heels and spending evenings sipping wine and mindlessly flipping channels while nibbling on takeout and looking over files for work the next day. Her biggest excitement for the week was if Damon would come over and join her in channel surfing and file flipping.

  Walking around to the far back corner of the garden, Liv reached forward and ran her fingers over the smooth surface of one of Aunt Joyce’s tomatoes. The color, a red so vibrant and bright it looked almost painted on. But no, this was all nature, no pesticides, no enhancements. And there had been no channel-surfing evenings for her here. For one, Aunt Joyce controlled the remote when they did watch TV in the evenings, and she was pretty set on her scheduled programs, and two, Liv found she really didn’t care about what she watched or if she watched anything on TV. After getting up before the sun and spending a full day in the bakeshop, baking and then serving customers, which she’d come to learn meant a lot more than just serving—in a small town, this included quite a bit of conversation too—she was happily satisfied with the respite of the tiny twin bed when her head finally hit the pillow at night.

  Plucking the tomato from the vine, mouth already watering, considering the salad she was going to make to accompany dinner that night, Liv suddenly felt heat bear down on her once more. But this time it wasn’t up by her neck, it was down by her feet. It was hot. More than hot, it was burning, no, biting. Little poking, flaming needles going into her skin and burning her body from the bottom up. Liv looked down, then dropped the tomato and screamed.

  “What is it! Are you hurt?”

  She didn’t know where he came from or that he was even outside to witness her undoing, but Clayton was at her side before her scream ended. No matter. This wasn’t the time to be embarrassed. Not when there was a swarm of fire ants on her foot, traveling up her ankle with the deadly intent to suck her dry. She screamed, swatted, jumped, and howled. “Holy fracking crapsmoger, that hurts!” she yelled as she went at the ants, swatting in a frenzy.

  “Livia! Don’t jump and swat at them like that. You’ll only make them angry, and they’ll just latch on tighter.”

  She looked up at him in shock, full-on panic about to set in. “Tighter! I feel like they are burrowing under my skin.” She felt tears threaten the back of her eyes. Oh God, she did not want to cry in front of him, but goodness did this hurt. She was now jumping on one foot and was well aware that she must look like a complete idiot in her cursed flip-flops, cutoff jean shorts, and less than flattering overwashed and out-of-shape BAKERS KEEP IT SWEET tee.

  But before she knew it she was off the ground and in his arms. Her next wail caught in her throat at the shock of being lifted so effortlessly. Whoa! Is that what fire training did to a person? If so, oh my. Clayton acted as if her substantial height and weight were nothing more than a grocery haul, while the feeling of being held—one arm behind her back and the other under her knees, with her shoulder against his firm chest—had driven away all thoughts of ants and had Liv feeling quite like a heroine out of a rom com. She blinked and let it wash over her for a second. But it was only a second, as the reality of it—and the stinging—came back.

  “What in the world are you doing?” she said, hopeful that there wasn’t any hint of damsel in her voice. She was a strong, assertive woman, gosh darn it. No matter that her arms had somehow wrapped around his neck of their own accord. She’d have a discussion with them later.

  He looked down at her, his brown eyes sharp and serious while soothing and concerned. “I’m bringing you over to sit down and rinse off away from the anthill so you don’t cause further damage.”

  “Oh,” Liv said, finding no fault with the logic and feeling a little silly that she didn’t think of it herself when Clayton easily carried her over to the little planter’s bench Aunt Joyce had on the side of the house. Thankfully it wasn’t that far from the back hose, and she watched as he silently and quickly walked over to turn it on. He came back and kneeled at her feet.

  Liv almost gasped and she froze, seeing him go down on one knee and then look up at her, eyes so deep that she could easily drown in them. When the icy water hit her foot, she was stung by the surprise of it and jumped up way too quickly, causing Clayton to rear back and splash himself in the face, hose flying, watering the both of them top to bottom.

  “Seriously, woman! Do you have to be so squirrely?” he said, his voice now laced with a hint of frustration.

  “Sorry, but it hurts and the water is cold.”

  “Good,” he said, hose back firmly in hand as he grabbed hold of her leg. “Let it shock them. Now, sit and let me rinse you off. You want to make sure they are all gone. Some may have clamped on.”

  Liv sat down slowly. This was fine. So what that Clayton was kneeling in front of her, holding her leg as he carefully examined it, T-shirt now glued to him. And so what that she was in front of him, shorts now ridiculous soggy thanks to the hose gone awry, probably looking like something the cat dragged in. She started to laugh, and he looked up at her and gave her that gorgeous smile. Now, why’d he go and do that?

  “What are you laughing at?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Oh, only just how ridiculous this all is. There I was in the moment in some stupid fantasy about fruit and how lovely things were out here and how peaceful everything is, and isn’t it just like life to snap you out of it and crash you right back to earth, in this case in the form of fire ants.” She frowned then. “I should have known there wasn’t any real peace for me. It doesn’t matter where I go.”

  Clayton’s eyes grew serious, and she felt his hand loosen ever so slightly on her ankle. His voice was a little more tentative now. “I hope I’m not in any way the cause of you not finding peace while you’re here in Sugar Lake.”

  Liv’s heartbeat quickened at his direct question. Of course he was the reason, but could she dare tell him that? Was she even ready to face it? She quickly smiled. “No, of course not! It’s just that I’ve got a lot going on right now. Being between jobs and all. Which is totally new to me, but it’s all good.” She forced herself to grin wider. “I really am taking this as a chance to reassess where I am in my career and what I want going forward.”

  Clayton nodded and looked down at her foot again. Long and hard. He examined it against the other, but something about the silence and all their past years of being friends let her know that he was deep in thought, and not about her foot. Finally, he looked back up at her. “So, it’s just your career you’re reassessing?”

  Now it was her turn to pause, not that she didn’t know what he was getting at. As if he had a right to ask her about her personal life. Finally, she spoke. “Pretty much. I was seeing someone back in New York.” She watched carefully and caught the slight narrowing of his eyes over that statement. “But we’re over now,” she finally added. “I’m not looking to be in a relationship with anyone besides myself at the moment.”

  Clayton smiled then, clearly wanting to lighten the mood just as much as she did. “I can understand that
.”

  She nodded and gave him a raised brow. “I bet you do.”

  Thankfully, he ignored her and looked at her foot once more, then back up at her. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

  “I should just go and change. Thanks for your he—” she started.

  “Just wait. Please.”

  Liv let out a head-clearing breath as he jogged the short way over to his house, and she listened as he went through his back door. What in the world was that all about? Did she really need this today? She should just go in and change out of these wet clothes, then put some ice on her foot. If Clayton came back and saw that she was gone, she was sure he’d catch the hint. But before she could properly get the thought out and contemplate it she heard his door open and close again. Darn, he was fast.

  He was back and changed into a fresh pair of gym shorts and tank, and now he had a small, wet towel and jar of honey in hand. Liv pulled a face. “What are you doing with that?”

  Clayton sat down next to her, casually picked up both her legs, and put them across his lap. When Liv tried to pull away, he clamped down on her ankles and held her firmly. “Just relax a minute. This will help so you won’t have too much swelling. Honey helps inflammation and has been known to heal wounds. Alternate honey wraps with ice packs and you should be good to go. It doesn’t look like you are allergic, but I can see a little redness. Just to be safe you should maybe take an allergy pill too, if you can tolerate it. Now, trust me, okay?”

  Liv was once again stunned. She couldn’t argue with his logic without coming off as irrational, but here he was, asking her to trust him, and he was the one person in the world she had the most trouble trusting. Though she felt her face pulled in a tight frown, she gave him a reluctant nod. “Fine.”

  Clayton smiled as he put the towel under her foot, opened the small jar of honey, and carefully poured some onto Liv’s ankle and lower leg. She was mesmerized by his skill as the honey slowly drizzled down onto her skin and Clayton smoothly brought the jar back up and then closed the cap, not spilling a single drop.

  “Now you’re just showing off,” she said.

  He chuckled. “I may not have many talents, but I do know my way around honey.”

  Once again Liv’s breath caught, but she tried to hide it with a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. Can we get on with this, please? As nice as this banter is, I have a feeling I might soon be going from ant bait to bee nectar.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

  But she wasn’t fine. Nowhere near fine when he reached out and gently rubbed the honey into her ankle with his long fingers. What in the world? This was supposed to be medicinal? Liv’s toes scrunched up, and Clayton turned, looking at her quizzically. “You okay?”

  “I, um, I’m fine,” she said, looking out to try to focus on the lake. “I’m just a little ticklish. You think you can wrap this up?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  It took everything for her not to sigh in relief when Clayton finally wrapped her lower leg in the warm towel he’d brought out with him. She had to admit that the sensation was relaxing. The stinging pain was dissipating, and she was starting to feel calm.

  “Sit here and keep it elevated for a while. You’ll be all right,” Clayton said, then looked out toward the lake.

  “Thanks,” she replied. When he made no move to let her feet go from their position, Liv spoke up again. “You can go, you know. You don’t have to babysit me. I will sit like you instructed. I’m sure you have plenty to do. I’m sorry I disturbed you with my howling and ruined your clothes. Don’t let me hold you up any further.”

  He didn’t move, so she spoke again. “I will follow your directions. But you can go.”

  He turned his head toward her then. “You didn’t disturb me or ruin my clothes. My clothes will dry, and Hope is at a friend’s house.”

  “And your mom?”

  His brows pulled together. “My mom doesn’t need a minder.”

  She laughed at that, and he laughed too. “Though sometimes she thinks I do.”

  Liv nodded. “Well, good to see that some things never change. She did always keep a sharp eye on you. I tell you, back in the day I could feel your mama’s eyes piercing into my back.”

  Clayton laughed. “Could you really?”

  “Of course. Hey, not that I blame her. You were her precious boy. I’d be mindful of some New York gal sniffing around too, if I were her.”

  “Yeah, well it was nothing compared to the way your family watched you.”

  Liv balked. “What? Oh, come on. I could have spent the summer in a tree and no one would have cared.”

  Clayton snorted. “If you think so.” He shrugged then, seeming to want to move on. “Hey, speaking of trees, remember that time you got stuck up in that old maple?”

  Liv felt her face heat. “Oh God, do I. It was all your fault!”

  “How was it? Nobody told you to go climbing up that high. It was madness.”

  “Well, nobody told you to go daring me to do it. I couldn’t let your challenge stand. If you could get up to the fourth rung, then surely I could get to the fifth. How was I to know how high it would be once I got up there? Trees do not grow that tall in Harlem.”

  “For an eight-year-old, you sure were fearless.”

  Liv looked around then, taking in the yard, garden, the oaks, then the lake. All the nature churning around them and the perils seen and unseen. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

  Clayton started to laugh. “I thought the adults were going to have our hides. Boy, I didn’t want them to know you were stuck. It took half a day to get you down.”

  She laughed, then looked back at him, their eyes connecting and in an instant traveling from the past to the present.

  “But you did,” she said softly. “You came up and you got me down.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I guess I did. Though it probably would have been safer for both of us if I’d just bailed then. Gone to get help.”

  Liv felt her smile wobble at that statement. Just then, the gravel-crunching sound of a car approaching hit their ears, followed by Aunt Joyce’s voice.

  “Guess they’re back,” she said. “I’m going to head in and take that allergy pill you suggested. Thanks again.” This time when she moved her feet, he loosened his grip and let them slide out easily.

  Clayton nodded. “No problem.”

  She unwrapped the towel. “I’ll wash this and get it back to you.”

  “You keep it,” he said as he handed her the jar of honey. “And use this for the next few days.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  They both stood. Liv slipped her flip-flops back on and headed toward the house while Clayton headed toward his home, but then she turned. “Hey,” she called out to him. “Stop by the shop next time you get a moment and I’ll give you a sweet treat as repayment.”

  But he shook his head. “No need. Haven’t you ever heard of a little thing called southern hospitality?”

  Chapter 10

  “Ain’t no party like a Goode ’N Sweet party cause a Goode ’N Sweet party don’t stop!” Liv looked over at her cousin Warren, who was doing some odd version of the running man mixed with the robot. He started his wack rap over the portable karaoke microphone while her other cousin Wiley did his version of mixing at the makeshift DJ stand on the back of Aunt Joyce’s porch. Liv shook her head in embarrassment, though she couldn’t help the smile that quirked at her lips.

  It was Sunday afternoon and the shop was closed. The whole family had come to Aunt Joyce’s for a gathering to welcome Liv and Drea into town properly. They’d set the big farm table out back on the grass, adding the extension to make it long enough for the entire family. The table had been decorated with mismatched linens from their great-grandmother’s stash, and Drea seemed to have the best time gathering flowers from the surrounding woods and putting them in vases and jars from around the house. Uncle Clint and Aunt Nori came over with extra chairs in the back of their t
ruck so there would be enough seating for everyone.

  At the moment, the party was just getting in full swing. Wiley and Warren had the music blasting, and Uncle Clint and Uncle Cole had dual grills going with ribs and chicken on one and fresh-caught fish from the lake on the other. All the sides were ready thanks to Aunt Kath and Aunt Nori, not to mention what Pearl and Rena brought by. There were fresh greens from Aunt Joyce’s garden, potato salad, macaroni and cheese, seafood salad, and a host of other little dishes. Each meant to outdo the other, though no one would say whose was the best.

  And then there were the desserts, all thanks to Aunt Joyce with a little help from Liv, which was a thrill. She was even able to sneak her berry swirl pie into the mix, which felt like quite an honor. She sure hoped it went over well with the family. Her dad was one thing, but the whole Goode clan, now that was another.

  It felt nice seeing the family together, and not arguing, at least for the moment, but having fun, dancing, and chatting while the little ones ran around and played. The whole scene reminded Liv of the past and made her miss her parents and long for them to be there to experience this, even Elijah. But they were now off to Europe, her mother finally getting a chance to grasp some dreams of her own, and Liv was glad that she and Drea could help make that happen.

  Liv was carrying a bowl of potato salad to the table when she faltered slightly, her gaze on the Morris family walking over from their property. Of course they would come to the gathering. Why wouldn’t they? Still, Liv steeled herself as she took in the scene of Delia Morris flanked by her sons as they headed her way. Aunt Joyce and Mrs. Delia had never been neighbor-like besties. They got along well enough in a friendly rivalry of gardening, cooking, baking (that was always a moot point, but whatever), and in the southern way they’d always invited each other to family functions. It should have come as no surprise.