Not What I Expected

by Jewel E. Ann

  “Oh, sorry, Mrs. Smith … I forgot you have carpet over there. My apologies. I didn’t mean for my observations to sound so harsh.”

  He did. And I could see it in his barely restrained smirk and twinkle of asshole in his eyes.

  “It’s fine. Your generation has no filter. I wouldn’t expect anything less. When you grow up, you’ll learn to think before you speak.”

  “Mom …” Bella’s eyes widened. “That’s rude.”

  It was rude, but necessary.

  “Crap …” Bella glanced at her phone. “I forgot I told Nila we could hang out. She’s waiting for me. I gotta run. Bye, Mom.” Bella kissed me on the cheek. It was one respectful and loving thing she still retained. “Nice meeting you, Kael. I’ll be back later to buy some stuff.”

  The girl had no money. Was she really going to muster the nerve to ask me for money to buy goods from my competitor?

  “It was nice to meet you too, Bella.”

  Kael and I watched her exit his store.

  “Stay away from my daughter.” I snapped my attention back to him.

  “Uh …” he chuckled. “Okay. That will be hard if she stops by again.”

  “You know what I mean. I saw the way you looked at her. She’s a young girl.”

  “I thought you said she’s eighteen.”

  “Listen, perv …” I glared at him, stabbing my finger into his chest. “She’s a senior in high school.”

  He glanced down at my finger pressed to his white apron, a smile on his lips mocking me. “You think I’m interested in your daughter?”

  A customer passing us stole our attention, and we smiled at her on cue as I withdrew my finger.

  Lowering my voice, I made a quick glance around to see if anyone else was in earshot. “I think you sell products because you flirt with anything that moves.”

  His lips pursed to the side as if I wasn’t speaking English. “You know what I think? I think you’re upset that I’m nice to people. I think marriage and years of fearing God has made you paranoid that if you smile too big or shake someone’s hand too long, people will think you’re flirting and therefore cheating. Maybe if you smiled like you were offering your customers more than stale popcorn, even if you’re not, then you’d see long lines at your shop again. I bet your husband knew how to smile at customers. Now … I have work to do. Thanks for stopping by.” He winked. Winked at me like he was selling more than vinegar and oil.

  That wasn’t part of Marketing 101. There was another word for his level of ruthlessness. I needed a few minutes to unpack all the nonsense from his little speech, so I headed back to my store, mumbling to myself the whole way. “Craig did not flirt to get customers and sell products.”

  Did he?

  “Oh, Elsie … wait up!”

  I stopped ten feet from the door to my shop and spun around. “Rach, what’s up?” I opened my arms and hugged one of my good friends from high school whom I hadn’t seen in years. “Did you move back here? Or are you just visiting?”

  “I lost my job, so I had to move back home. How embarrassing, right? I have one child in college and another who got married last year, and I’m living with my parents … at forty-two!”

  I jerked my head toward my shop. “I’m running the Smith family business that has no business and apparently terrible carpet. No husband. Kids are basically grown. Bella just informed me that she’s not a virgin. And my parents now have a place in Arizona, so I see them during the summer and on Christmas. When Bella goes to college next year, I might quit my job and go live with them, so really … it’s life.”

  Rachel laughed. “Who knew the forties would be such a shit show. And who knew you would be the talk of the town.” She rolled her lips together and eyed me with wide blue eyes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “My mom said you’re in a support group at church, and you brought out the evil side in some of the widows.”

  I coughed a laugh. “Um …”

  “It’s fine.” She waved off my stuttered response. “It stirred up some good conversation between us. I can’t believe all the stuff my dad has done over the years that drives her crazy, and I never knew. Like his slurping. She said that first cup of coffee in the morning touches her soul, and she likes to enjoy it in a quiet kitchen, slowly bringing her senses to life for a new day. But then my dad wakes up, pours himself a cup, and slurps it over and over again. She said she’s seriously considered diving across the table and strangling him. Slurp. Slurp. Sluuurrrppp. And I totally relate because Trace used to slurp his smoothie every morning. And he chewed with his mouth open, whole body hunched over his plate like a caveman, constantly smacking and slurping. God … he was so loud. Then he’d lift his plate and lick it, kid you not … lick it clean. Even in restaurants. And I just sat there with this grimace of disgust stuck to my face, and he’d have the nerve to say, ‘What?’ Then one day … I answered his what. The next day we decided to end our marriage.”

  She was my person. I could tell her my truth, and she wouldn’t judge me. But just as I started to say something, the shop door opened behind me.

  “Elsie, I’m not feeling so well.”

  I turned toward Kandi and her pale, almost green, complexion. “You can go home. Need a ride?”

  She shook her head. “I think I can make it home.”

  “No. Call your mom.” I turned back to Rachel. “I have to go, but we should get together soon and talk more.”

  “Absolutely. I’ve got to get to work, but maybe I’ll stop by your shop later and get your number.”

  I noticed she pointed over her shoulder when she said get to work.

  “Where are you working?”

  “The new place. What Did You Expect? It’s amazing! Have you had a chance to check it out yet? And don’t even get me started on Kael, the owner. He’s so freaking hot. Young-ish, but so hot. And nice. Gah! The guy will do anything for anyone. Izzy Stanton said he removed dead limbs from her tree and fixed her broken front porch steps. And she didn’t ask him to do it. He just noticed she needed some help around the place.”

  “Does he know she’s married?”

  “Why?” Rachel laughed. “You think he did it to get into her pants? I’m pretty sure he knows Lane is in the service and hasn’t been home in over a year. Epperly has grown since I moved away fifteen years ago, but it’s still a small town. I think he’s just genuinely a nice guy. He changed Violet Ryan’s flat tire two days ago. He fixed Arnie’s and Mable’s bent windmill and raked their huge yard before the snow. And Tess Jacob needed a ride to Fullerton last week, and Kael drove her two hours there, waited another two hours while she visited her daughter in the hospital, and drove her back home. He’s a saint. And single.” She waggled her eyebrows.

  I had no comeback for his saintly actions. “He’s single because he doesn’t believe in monogamy.”

  “What?” Rachel drew her head back.

  “It’s a long story. I’ll share it later.”

  “You better. Bye, Elsie.”

  Chapter Nine

  I take care of three young kids, cook, and clean. I shouldn’t have to dominate him in the bedroom too. Grow a pair, buddy!

  * * *

  The upside to having grown kids—they were rarely home. The downside to having grown kids—they were rarely home. I liked my space—a quiet house—but I missed my people. I missed stories about their day, even if it was a bad day. I missed watching a rerun on TV while we cleaned up after dinner before taking Meadow for her evening walk. I missed the home that used to be my house.

  And I wasn’t alone, as was evidenced by the full room of widows at our weekly support meeting.

  “Tonight, I want to talk about moving forward with the grace of God leading us,” Rhonda opened the meeting. “I know it’s too soon for some of you, but others have approached me privately about this. So I think it’s something worth discussing. Our husbands would have wanted us to be happy. And everyone has a different definition of happiness. But if y
ours involves finding love again, then you shouldn’t feel ashamed or hindered by guilt. It’s possible to move on and love again if you pray for it to happen, and you let God help open your heart to someone special. A lot of women in our congregation have gone on to find love and marry again. One person in the group (who shall remain anonymous) called me last week with something heavy on her heart—intimacy. And I think this is a need that doesn’t go away just because we lose our spouse. So I want all of you to know … it’s okay. It’s okay to remarry. Some of you are so young, it would be heartbreaking to think of you giving up on love and a family. So … who wants to go first on this topic tonight?”

  Everyone sat in silence for several awkward minutes.

  “What if …” Kelly bit her thumbnail and wrinkled her nose.

  “Yes, Kelly?” Rhonda prompted her. “There is no judgment, honey. This is a safe place.”

  It wasn’t a safe place. It was the opposite of a safe place. It was a prayer room, a room to judge and be judged. We all knew it.

  “What if I want intimacy, but I don’t want the uh … other stuff?”

  “Sorry, I’m not following,” Rhonda said. “What do you mean other stuff?”

  “Well, like … marriage. I’m not sure I want to be married again.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged, squirming in her seat. “It was exhausting. And I like my space. I like my time alone. I didn’t need it so much when I was younger, but now I do. But sometimes I just want … intimacy.”

  Rhonda nodded slowly and folded her hands on her crossed leg. “Maybe you could find an online pen pal or join a club. The church has a coed volleyball team for singles that you could join and find someone who might enjoy occasional stimulating conversation. Before my husband and I got married, we used to meet at a park and watch the birds and squirrels for hours while discussing the second coming of Christ. I would walk home feeling so intellectually satisfied.” Rhonda let out a slow sigh of contentment.

  Bethanne raised her hand slowly. We didn’t have to raise hands.

  “Yes, Bethanne?”

  Bethanne cleared her throat and shifted her attention to me. Why me? I had no idea, but it drew everyone else’s attention to me as well. And I started to sweat.

  “I think … I think what Kelly means …” Bethanne cleared her throat again, wringing her hands together. “Well, I think since Elsie took the first step in really opening up our group to honest discussion by being brave in the face of the unknown, I want to do the same. So I’m just going to say it.”

  I had no idea where she was going with any of her nonsense. My intentions were never to open the group up to some greater level of honesty. I wasn’t a hero or role model. I made a mistake. Period.

  “Sex. Kelly wants sex. That’s what she means by intimacy. Not marriage. Not commitment. Not stimulating conversation while watching wildlife. She wants to feel a man inside of her again.”

  Well done, Bethanne. My honesty garnered a few wide eyes. But Bethanne’s honesty drew a collective gasp from nearly everyone in the room, but none louder than Rhonda.

  “Oh stop!” Bethanne went from nervous Nellie to an errant child not happy about being told she has to go to bed early. “I know we are in a church, but this group isn’t a sermon. And we’ve all had sex. Why can’t we call it that? Why can’t we be honest about our feelings regarding it? Either our hidden gratitude that we never have to have it again or our secret desire to have it with every guy we lay eyes on.”

  And there it was … the Elsie moment. The moment when you just vomited your unfiltered emotions onto the group and prayed someone threw you a lifeline by admitting they, too, have had similar feelings.

  Right.

  Wrong.

  Or just incredibly needy and human.

  Validation meant everything when you felt completely cut off from the world.

  “Kelly, maybe you should—” Rhonda began to make her mandatory intervention, but I threw poor Kelly a lifeline first.

  “I miss sex. I miss the warm fullness that just can’t be duplicated with something from Amazon. I miss the way my nipples get really hard and sensitive from a single touch. I miss the heavy feeling slowly growing between my legs, all warm and tingly. I miss falling off that cliff as my eyes roll back in my head, my jaw goes slack, and my toes curl. I miss the moan of pleasure from another human finding me so sexy.”

  “I miss having someone take charge.” Pauline sighed. “Toby and I were going through a rough patch a few years before he died. We saw a counselor, and she walked us through some exercises to help open up our lines of communication. Come to find out … I just wanted a night to myself to take a hot bath without hearing my kids screaming and to enjoy a good book. Toby … well, he wanted to be dominated in bed. I took care of three young kids, cooked, and cleaned. I shouldn’t have had to dominate him in the bedroom too. My whole day involved being in charge, in control, on alert. I just wanted someone else to take charge once we got into bed. I wanted him to grow a pair.”

  A few of the women sniggered.

  “Ladies, this is highly inapprop—” Rhonda made another attempt to diffuse the conversation.

  “Well, I just want everyone to remember, most of us have children. This is a small town. And God is always watching. So maybe instead of ordering things from Amazon and missing things that are purely selfish and physical, you should spend more time in prayer, giving thanks for what really matters. What would Jesus do?” Aurora was basically a slightly younger version of Rhonda. I had a hard time imagining either one of them actually letting go of their inhibitions, spreading their legs, and allowing a penis to enter their bodies.

  “And …” Rhonda jumped in on the wake of Aurora’s big speech. “Please take some time and spend it in the word of God to cleanse your minds from all the impurity of sexual immorality. The marriage bed is sacred. We need to pray for each other, that the Lord will deliver to you a God-fearing man if that’s what your heart desires. But we cannot and should not encourage sexual intercourse or any other kind of sexual immorality outside of marriage. Just because you are no longer virgins, doesn’t mean that it’s okay to commit sexual sins—in real life or in your mind.”

  Great. I had to magically control my mind while sleeping. It wasn’t like I hadn’t prayed for G-rated dreams and pure thoughts. I had. A lot. God was clearly busy with bigger things than my hate-lust relationship with Kael. Besides, after Craig died (thanks to my perfect meltdown timing), I’d been questioning the status of my salvation.

  My non-virgin daughter wasn’t home when I walked into the nearly empty house. Meadow greeted me for five seconds, and then she disappeared, returning silence to my new existence. After perusing the lackluster contents of my fridge, I ordered takeout and stopped by the store on my way so I had some fresh fruit for the next morning.

  “Great minds …” Kael pushed open the door to the Mexican restaurant just as I grabbed the handle to open it. Spices and the aroma of charred meat and chilies wafted past me along with the heat from the crowded building. “After you, Mrs. Smith.” He stepped back and held it open for me.

  My hackles were up, but my tongue remained idle because of all the things Rachel said about his Good Samaritan work in Epperly for people who really needed it.

  Dang it! I was a sucker for that sort of kindness, hence the reason I was still working at a store I didn’t love for in-laws that I did love. It was the reason they were still in their house, and the reason I took care of their chores and did their grocery shopping.

  But … I wasn’t a sucker for him, so I forced a tight smile and brief eye contact as I stepped inside the restaurant. A soft “thank you” squeaked past my throat, showing my own unavoidable kindness.

  Before he could say anything, I hustled to the takeout counter and breathed a sigh of relief. My body did weird things around him—things I didn’t consciously welcome. It was all the sex talk at the church meeting earlier. Sex talk and church in the same sentence—never saw
that coming.

  After paying for my half-order of veggie fajitas and guacamole, I snagged my to-go bag and headed outside to my vehicle just as a new round of snow fell from the night sky. Epperly wasn’t immune to early lake-effect snow. After scorching heat and drought all summer, most everyone welcomed the moisture and cooler temperatures.

  “Heard we’re supposed to get another foot or so.”

  That voice. How did God expect me to keep my dreams clean and thoughts pure with Satan, disguised as Captain America, and constantly breathing down my neck?

  I ignored him as I opened the door to my SUV.

  “Want me to plow your driveway in the morning?”

  “No. No. No. No,” I whispered only to myself as my impure mind let other plowing images come to life. Keeping my head in the vehicle, I set the bag on the passenger’s seat and took several deep breaths.

  Sexual immorality. Sexual immorality. Sexual immorality.

  As I stood straight again, he shut his truck door and sauntered toward me, looking entirely too hot and young in his cargo pants, tan boots, pullover jacket, and beanie. Without the beard, I felt certain he would have looked fifteen.

  “I have a snowblower, but thanks.” I tugged at my scarf, cringing at the itchiness against my sweaty skin.

  “It’s no big deal. Three swipes.” He wet his lips.

  Why? Why wet your lips and say three swipes?

  “I’ll be in and out in no time.”

  Please, God … make it stop!

  With a nervous laugh, I averted my gaze. “I can do it myself.” Biting my lips together, I closed my eyes for a few seconds. I had to hope he wasn’t interpreting my words with the maturity of a teenager like I’d been doing.

  Kael innocently referenced snow removal while I imagined sex the whole time.

  He took two steps closer, resting his hand on the top of my open door. “I’m sure you can, but why go to all that work when I’m right here … offering to do it for you?”