I was pretty happy to be with Blake. He wasn't hitting on me. He seemed to have switched from boyfriend mode into friend mode pretty quickly, which was good. Because I needed a friend. He hadn't harassed me about why I was so depressed. He'd asked, once or twice, but he wasn't pushing. Just holding my hand or giving me hugs. It was very comfortable.
Church was a new experience for me. I'd never been. Some parts were very boring, like the sermon. I have a hard time sitting still for long spaces of time. Makes college classes hell. But the music was beautiful. I didn't know Blake could sing.
After church we went back to Charles and Liza's house for a big family lunch. They were frying up the fish from yesterday. Cecily and her family came. Stan, Diane, Jesse and Alex and their girlfriends. And of course Wyatt showed up. He avoided me like the plague, though.
Liza showed me how to fry hush puppies. Charles and Wyatt were outside frying fish on the back porch.
I pulled out my first batch of hush puppies and dropped in the batter for the next batch when Blake came inside. He was carrying a paper plate with a filet of fried catfish. He sat it on the bar. "Dad said this came off your big fish. I told him it was all going to taste the same, but he insisted that you should get to eat the meat from your first fish. So there you go."
I dashed to the bar and dragged the plate across. "That was so thoughtful of him." Of course he would think of that for me. Blake would think it was childish, but Wyatt would understand. A first experience is a first experience, whether you're a child or an adult. A first experience is filled with wonder and excitement and just because I'm over twenty-one doesn't mean I have to act like I don't care.
I pulled off a piece of the fish and waited for it to cool. It was tender and salty. The breading had a bit of spice in it that left my tongue warm. I closed my eyes and savored. When I opened them, I saw Wyatt leaning in the back door.
"Good?" he asked, smiling kindly.
I nodded.
He seemed satisfied and stepped back out. I tried not to blush, but he looked so sexy today. Just another version of what he always wore, jeans and a t-shirt. But the shirt clung to his body, molding to his strong shoulders and arms. I hated how much I wanted him right then.
The temperature outside was in the upper seventies, so we ate out there. I sat at a picnic table with Blake and his cousins. Everyone else sprawled out on the porch wherever they could find a spot. Wyatt sat on the top porch step, angled towards where his parents sat in rocking chairs side-by-side.
I looked around. Everyone was in pairs. Cecily and her husband. Stan and Diane. Charles and Liza. And there was Wyatt, all alone. Missing his better half. I imagined what it would look like if Amberlee were here. Would she sit on the step beneath him? Would they touch each other? Give each other those private smiles that couples gave? I wondered what Wyatt would be like. If he would smile more. Laugh more.
"It's still weird not having Aunt Amberlee here," Jesse said.
Blake shrugged. "I guess it always will be. For me anyway."
"Your dad doesn't seem to be getting any better."
"No, he doesn't. Though last weekend was a bit of an aberration. Did you hear about that?"
Jesse laughed. "Only from three different people in town. Jesus, people don't know the meaning of mind-your-own-business around here. Uncle Wyatt's going to have to conduct his affairs a little further from town."
"I'm just happy he had an affair to conduct. I'm hoping he'll get out there more. Find some way to be happy."
I was so nervous hoping they'd leave the topic. When they finally did, I felt like collapsing. I was more than happy to jump up and help Liza wash dishes, afterward.
When we were through there, we took lemonade out on the back porch. I sat on the top step above where Wyatt was, picking out songs quietly on the guitar again. I figured this was a regular occupation for him. Like whenever it was back porch time, he'd be playing music. Jesse had the guitar this time and was practicing on it. The two of them were clearly the most musically inclined of the family. But then I heard Liza humming along and decided she must have a beautiful voice.
I never wanted to leave this time and place. Lauren was on her way, but I secretly hoped she would forget about me altogether.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Blake watched Ettie watching his dad. He didn't dwell on the oddness of her expression, the intimate way she watched his hands on the guitar strings, but it would come back to him later.
He heard the sound of tires on gravel and got up to walk through the house and out the front door. Lauren, in her little red sports car, was climbing out. One long leg at a time. She had on that brown, sleeveless dress with the white polka dots and the wide belt. High heels which she appeared to have difficulty maneuvering in due to the uneven nature of the gravel driveway. She slammed her door shut and began hobbling toward him.
"You're early," Blake said, smiling and leaning on the porch post.
She tiptoed her way toward him. "Yes. That does happen sometimes. Is Ettie ready to go?"
"I don't know. Why don't you come in for a while? Have something to eat?"
She made it to the porch stairs and her grace returned to her. She looked up and smiled, her red lips barely curving up. She was always so regal and elegant. And she had the temper to match her fiery hair. "I wouldn't mind a snack for the road. But I don't intend to stay."
"Come on, Lauren. It's a lazy Sunday afternoon. Hang out for a while." He opened the door for her and admired the view as she passed by him into the house.
She was looking around. Assessing the place. "This is a lovely home," she said. "Too bad it's in the middle of nowhere."
"Apple Creek is not nowhere."
She turned to face him, one elegant brow lifted. "It is absolutely nowhere. There's no industry. No night life. No social opportunities whatsoever."
He bristled. "We get along okay."
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Good for you. Where's Ettie?"
"Out back. If you'd consider staying the night, maybe I could take you over to the newspaper office. I'd love to have your feedback."
"Oh, Blake, dear, I can give you my feedback right now. Move to St. Louis with me. You'll have far more interesting things to edit than Aunt Bea's society column or the church recipe section."
"You are such a fucking snob," he said. But then he heard her words again. "Move to St. Louis with you? Like...live with you?"
She let out a sharp laugh. "Of course not. Are you insane? We'd kill each other. No, I just meant you'd enjoy yourself better up there."
He sighed. "Well I don't agree. I love small town life. Maybe if you'd give it a chance, you would too."
"We're not likely to find that out. Ettie?"
"Back porch." He nodded toward the back door and she turned and led him out.
Everyone looked up from their various occupations. "This is our friend, Lauren," Blake said.
Liza, of course, stood and welcomed Lauren and soon she was caught up in handshakes and introductions. Ettie sat staring into the distance. Two tears quietly slid down her cheeks. Wyatt had stopped playing. He was watching Ettie.
"Blake," Liza said, "Go fix Lauren a plate."
He raised his eyebrows at her. She shrugged, a bit of an apologetic grin on her face. She'd clearly been ambushed.
Ettie snapped to attention. "Make sure she gets some of the fish that I caught."
"For God's sake, Ettie, they all taste the same."
"I just want her to have something I caught."
"You're being a child, as usual."
"For fuck's sake," Wyatt growled. He stood, marched up the steps and shoved past Blake and into the house.
Blake stood in shock for a moment, then followed him in. Wyatt was rummaging through the cabinets until he came out with a bottle of cooking sherry. He stared at it in disgust and shoved it back in the cabinet. Finally he found what he was looking for in the pantry...a pint of Jim Beam. Not his brand, but he didn't seem to care.
Blake got started fixing Lauren a plate of food out of the leftovers while he watched his dad down half the bottle in one breath. Then he slammed it down and leaned on the counter.
"Dad?" Blake asked. "Everything okay?"
"Yep. Just needed a drink."
"Kind of seems like you don't like Ettie very much."
Wyatt burst into hysterical laughter, then. He turned, when he calmed, and Blake watched as his smile faded.
"What's so funny?" Blake asked.
Wyatt shook his head and took another drink. "Nothing. Nothing's funny at all."
"You're being weird, you know that?"
Wyatt nodded at the plate of fish covered in saran wrap. "Those two pieces on the edge are from Ettie's fish."
Blake had no idea what he was talking about or why he knew which fish was Ettie's. Or why he cared. He determined he needed to finish his conversation with Wyatt soon. Hopefully when he was sober, this time. His took Lauren's plate out to her. She was on the porch swing, sandwiched between Liza and Ettie.
Stan stood from his rocking chair and stretched. "Someone should go get ice cream," he said.
"Your idea. You go get it," Charles said.
"Aw, come on. Someone would have mentioned it if I hadn't," he said.
Blake glanced at Lauren as she licked the crumbs from her fingers. He could take her into town. Show her what a charming place Apple Creek was. Drive her past the newspaper offices. Maybe she'd change her tune. "I'll go," he said. "Lauren, come with me."
She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "I really should be going."
"Oh, no," Liza said. "Don't rush off. Go get ice cream with Blake and stay a while. We'd love to have you."
Lauren bit her bottom lip and Blake took advantage of the hesitation by grabbing her plate and her hand and hauling both back into the house.
"Blake, I really should get Ettie and get home," she said, as he ushered her out the front door, still hanging onto her wrist. He looked around and located his Dad's truck, which he'd come over in. He took her to it and opened the door for her. As he was pulling out of the driveway, she was still objecting. "It's just that she sounded really upset on the phone. Do you have any idea what it's about?"
"No idea. She broke up with me. But she was upset before that."
"Do you think the breaking up was a result of the upset, then? Or the other way around?"
"She was definitely upset first."
"Do you think it had anything to do with her little affair last weekend?"
Blake glanced at her. "She told you about that?"
"Of course. It's Ettie. She tells me everything."
He tried not to be irritated. "I don't know if this has anything to do with that."
Lauren didn't pursue it anymore. But every time he glanced at her, he saw she was pensive. She must know something.
They drove on into town and he took her past the newspaper office. Showed her Main Street with the shops that had been spiffed up using that historical grant a few years back. He drove her down to the river. It was a good time of year because there were blossoms on all the wild cherry trees. She acted unimpressed, which he'd expected, but he noticed her eyes lingered on the beautiful scene. "You wanna hang out a while?" he asked. "We could walk along the river. Get some fresh air after that long drive you had."
She turned and stared at him. "Why?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Just because."
"That's no kind of a reason to do anything."
"How about because you and I haven't had much time together lately and I miss you."
She snorted at this. "You miss me? That's ridiculous. We see each other every day."
"Yeah, but we never get to talk anymore."
"What could you possibly want to talk about?"
He sighed and let his gaze wander the landscape ahead of him. "I just always feel good when we're talking, that's all."
She was quiet for a long moment. "You've had Ettie to talk to. Isn't that enough?"
Ettie was great. He loved her. Or thought he did. But, "She's just so...flaky sometimes. And she has the attention span of a toddler. Half the time I feel I'm more like her parent than her boyfriend...er...friend."
Lauren laughed. "You and me both. I'm constantly on her case to pick up after herself or call when she's going to be out late. Do you know how many times I've had to drag her drunk ass out of a bar to keep her from getting date-raped? It's exhausting."
He nodded.
"But I love her. And I think you do, too," she said.
"I do. I love her. But...."
"What?"
"Maybe it's not the kind of love I thought it was. I can't imagine not having her in my life, but when I think about marriage and kids...I just can't imagine having those things with her. I'm not sure I'd want to."
Lauren didn't answer. Blake couldn't bring himself to look at her. Suddenly, he asked, "What did I do to you that was so bad that you wouldn't give me a second date?"
Lauren reeled. "Why are you asking this? It was three years ago."
"I really liked you, Lauren. I wasn't just looking for a one-night-stand. I really liked you and you went from hot to cold in an instant."
Lauren gritted her teeth. "It's ridiculous to talk about this now."
Blake was silent.
Lauren sighed. "When you asked me out, I was very clear about my dating rules. I told you that I considered the first date a getting-to-know-you date and that there would be no kissing or touching, let alone sex. But what did you do? As soon as dinner was over, you walked me back to my car and suddenly got grabby. I told you to stop and you argued with me. That was that. I figured if you couldn't respect my wishes on a first date, I certainly couldn't trust you for future dates."
Blake pressed his face into his hands. "Obviously I messed up," he said. "I guess I thought I was the exception to your rules, what with the way we'd hit it off that evening. What I don't understand is why I don't get a second chance?"
"I didn't give you a second chance, then, because you'd pissed me off and I was stubborn."
"And now?" he asked.
She was quiet for a beat. "Now you're all set, right? You've got Ettie. You'll get her back. You always do."
"Yeah," he said softly. "I've got Ettie."
She nodded. "Well, there you go."
The silence became incredibly awkward. And then he looked at her. She kept her eyes trained forward. "Blake, I...."
But he grabbed her chin, turned her toward him and kissed her. Not a sweet kiss. But a hungry one. A kiss that held the promise of sweaty bodies entwined and heavy breathing. Her arms went 'round his neck and their kiss slowed into something more deep, but still passionate.
At last she managed to free her lips. She kept her forehead pressed to his. "She's my best friend, Blake," Lauren said.
He laid his hand along one side of her jaw and sweet kisses along the other. "You're my best friend, Lauren," he said softly.
"Oh, Blake," she breathed. And then she jolted back. "That's enough."
He watched her for a second. He couldn't read her. He'd never been able to read her. She had far too much control. He put the truck back into gear and they went to get the ice cream and head home. He was so distracted on the drive back that he ended up speeding down the highway. He wouldn't have noticed if not for the lights flashing behind him.
"Shit," he muttered, pulling over.
He waited until Andy Carter got out of the squad car and approached the window. "What's up, Blake?" he asked.
"I've got ice cream melting, Andy. Let's get this over with."
"Do you know why I pulled you over?"
"Cut the shit, will ya?"
The rotund officer laughed and held out his hand. There were two officers in town and Blake might've gotten a friendly warning from the other one. But he and Andy didn't like each other too much, so there was no sense playing nice. He dug his license out of his wallet. "Lauren, could you grab that insurance card in the glove compartment.
"
She handed it to him and Andy took the documents back to his car. Blake turned to Lauren to see whether she was going to make fun of him or not. Instead, she surprised him by holding up a pink, lacy bra. "This yours?" she asked.
Blake's eyebrows shot up. "No. This is Dad's truck."
"Wow. Looks like he's had some pretty good luck recently."
Blake grinned. Finally a clue to last weekend's mystery woman. He couldn't wait to get home and ask about this.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Liza felt horrible being mired amidst all this secrecy. She wasn't a secret person. She was a head-on, confrontational type and she didn't like sneaking around. But there was Ettie gazing like a love sick puppy at Wyatt. And Wyatt looking at turns miserable and angry. And poor Blake going about as though there was nothing wrong in the world.
At the moment, she didn't know where either Wyatt or Ettie were. Stan and Cecily were playing chess on the back porch. The twins and their girlfriends were off horse riding. Diane and Rick were weeding the flower beds. Charles was cleaning up the fryer.
Liza hesitated a moment, and then went inside and straight for the stairs. She breathed relief when she saw Ettie's bedroom door was open. But she tensed again when she saw them. Sitting side by side on the edge of the bed, their backs to her. She was crying and he was rubbing slow circles over her back. And then she turned into his arms and he held her.
Liza might have left them alone except that Blake could be back any moment. She cleared her throat, loudly, and Wyatt jumped up and turned. His eyes were red-rimmed with dark circles underneath. He looked pale and tired and...old. "I was just saying goodbye," he said.
Liza nodded. Tried to smile. Ettie stood and wrapped her arms around his waist. He didn't hug her back, this time. Just looked at Liza, the misery increasing with each passing second.
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