by Stuart, Amie
“Well, hello there.” Something about the soft, deep rumble of his voice brought back visions of the previous night and his lips on my neck, his warm breath on my skin, making it difficult for me to focus on the problem at hand.
“Hello, Flirty Boy.” I kept my eyes focused on the ceiling, afraid if I looked at Kellie I’d start to giggle. I’d never in my life giggled, not really, and I had no plans on starting now.
“Anything in particular you’d like for dinner Wednesday night?”
“I told you, I like anything but sushi.”
“Alright, how about dinner at Carmen’s, and then I know a little piano bar that’s kind of fun. So wear something comfortable.”
We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. Like the previous night, I found myself relaxing as my guard lowered itself just a bit.
“Well, what’s the verdict?” Kellie looked up at me from her position on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees.
“Jeans.”
“Jeans?” She rocked back and forth on her bottom, arms still wrapped around her knees.
I nodded, smothering a smile as she struggled to hide her disappointment. “Oui, jeans, so no shopping this time.”
“What about a shirt?”
That got my attention. I wracked my brains for something besides my usual cotton T-shirts. My small sense of triumph quickly deserted me.
“And shoes? You could get some really cute sandals or maybe a pair of mules.”
I groaned and shook my head, and as my eyebrows slowly rose, my head lowered for a good look at my shoes. These were my old ones, and there was a tiny hole in the canvas. If I moved my toe just right, you could see my unpainted toenail. “I can wear the ones I wore the other night.”
Again, she looked disappointed, so I said, “Take me shopping for a new shirt, and I’ll cook you dinner.”
Her face lit up and she scrambled to her feet. “Deal! Wait, what’s for dinner?”
“Glazed pork chops, and gas money,” I added.
“Works for me.”
We spent what was left of the morning and part of the afternoon shopping. Another quick trip through Target and then back to the discount store, where I found shoes and three cute T-shirts at such a good price I got them all. At this rate, I’d have a complete wardrobe to rival the one I’d left behind.
Over dinner later that evening Kellie asked which top I was going to wear Wednesday night.
“I don’t know.” In the middle of taking a bite, I held the fork halfway to my mouth and frowned at her, my puzzlement getting the best of me. “Which do you think I should wear?”
“You know, for some reason, you just don’t strike me as the type of woman who would have to worry about what to wear on a date.”
I set my fork on the plate and then set the plate on the carpet next to me. “Why do you say that?”
“You’re just so confident, is all. Like, you have a lot of experience with men...I mean...not sexual…or anything—” her cheeks turned red, “—but you just seem to know how to handle them. I watch you at the bar, and I see how they sometimes give you a hard time or try to get you to go home with them. And it’s not just Tim.”
“I’ve worked in some of the craziest bars in the Western United States. Trust me when I say there’s nothing worse than a drunk man who’s lost all his money, whether you’re behind a bar or behind a table dealing cards.” I shrugged and smiled, nibbling at the last piece of my pork chop. “So you learn a few tricks.”
“I wish I could. They always make me so nervous when they proposition me. I’m always afraid that someday I might turn down the wrong man and piss him off.”
Though she didn’t say it, I had a feeling Kellie spoke from experience. “It easy, really. The number one rule is don’t ever let ‘em see they’ve gotten to you. Chin up!” I added.
“Just ‘chin up’?” She frowned as if she had expected something more.
“Yeah, you’re busy, in a hurry, off to see that next customer. So you can smile or laugh and wave them off, and move on. Chin up and move. Just if you laugh, don’t act like you’re laughing at them, or anything like that. Also if you can, keep your tray in front of you, or at least, between you and them,” I finished with a thumbs-up. I didn’t bother telling her I’d learned that in a self-defense class taught by a former casino worker turned rape crisis councilor. Sadly, getting groped was part of the job.
“I know Susie and the bouncers would never let anything happen to us...”
“But we still have to take care of ourselves.” I stood and picked up my plate, smiling down at her. “Now, are you ready for cheesecake?”
TIM SPENT MONDAY afternoon helping Dad move the cows to another pasture. Zack was finally home and the four of them, and Dad’s two hands, Handy and Pate, spent all afternoon on horseback. More than once, he found himself distracted, and that wasn’t a good thing when you were working with thousands of pounds of animals.
“You feeling alright?” Zack pulled up alongside him as they headed toward the barns late in the afternoon. Dad and the hands had stayed behind to get the stragglers. Ty had gone in early for a meeting with his divorce lawyer.
“Yeah, why?” Tim readjusted his hat and kept his eyes forward facing.
“You just seem distracted.”
“I’m good,” he said before blurting out, “I, uh, met someone is all.”
Zack’s frown of concern turned to a grin, and he burst out laughing. “I should have known a woman was at the root of your problem.”
“Hey, fuck you.” He scowled down at his little brother.
“And just what did I tell you about playing with fire?” he asked between chuckles.
“This one is different.” He kept his voice low as his hands tightened on the reins.
“Well, aren’t they all different?”
They rode in silence for a few minutes while he wracked his brain for answers. After a long day in the summer heat it was hard to focus beyond food, a cool shower, beer, and clean clothes. How the hell could he explain exactly what he meant to his brother? He didn’t even understand it himself, and Zack still qualified as a newlywed. For that matter, other than Zander, none of his brothers had dated a lot. “I went on a date.”
“So what makes this date any different from the one you went on a few months back with Brenda Sue Moore?”
He sighed, then finally offered up, “I haven’t slept with her yet, for one.”
“Wow! So this was like a real date?”
He turned his head to study his little brother, resisting the urge to pop his horse on its withers. “Is it so amazing that I would go out on a ‘real date’?”
Toni’s words about him being shallow crossed his mind again. Maybe she’d been onto something. He’d never thought of himself as a shallow man. He would, however, freely admit to being a bit of a womanizer. As long as he stuck with women willing to play his rules, what was the harm?
But something about Toni scared him. They weren’t playing by his rules. He hadn’t lost control of a relationship since Charlene, and even though he’d only been on one date with Toni, if he was honest, he’d admit to himself that he wasn’t in control of whatever this thing was with her.
He had taken a lot of ribbing his junior year of high school for chasing a freshman. Charlene had played basketball, and she was tall for freshman. She was also busty, and he’d always had a weakness for chesty women. He hadn’t cared about the ribbing though. She was a fire that lit his soul. He had spent many a sleepless night dreaming, fantasizing, and on more than one occasion, masturbating over the tall, amber-eyed, chestnut-haired Charlene Yates.
Despite her height, she was a terrible basketball player, but in a town the size of Bluebonnet coaches couldn’t be choosers. Tim had spent the entire winter of his junior year watching her and offering the shy young woman rides home. One particularly chilly January night, she finally gave in and said yes, much to the amusement of her giggling teammates who’d been standing around
waiting for their own rides after losing yet another game.
Charlene’s shyness had only made him want to know more. In that regard, she was no different than Toni. Sitting in front of her house in his old beat-up Chevy, he’d begged Charlene to go out with him. She’d finally agreed, and they’d become inseparable.
“Hello!”
Tim’s head snapped up at the sound of his brother’s voice. “Did you say something?”
“I said I’m sorry if it sounded like I was insulting you.” Zack was always the diplomatic one. “I’m glad you went on a real date. Really. Does this mean you’re turning over a new leaf?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. With Rene getting older, I’d already kinda figured I needed to stop running around so much, but this…this is different.” He just wished he knew how.
Their conversation stalled briefly as they dismounted and led their horses into the barn.
“What exactly is ‘this’?” Zack asked from the neighboring stall where he was caring for his mount.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“How...exactly...is she different?” he asked between brushstrokes.
Tim grinned at his brother’s out of breath question. “She won’t sleep with me, for one.” From the next stall came laughter. Even he had to chuckle at that. “She’s hotter than hell, and you know, I really had a good time on our date last night.” He continued to try and pinpoint what it was about Toni that made her different as he rubbed down his own mount and got the gelding settled. When he was through, he walked to his brother’s stall and leaned against the doorframe. “We’re going out again on Wednesday.”
“So she’s hot. And she won’t sleep with you. That it?” Zack moved past him to get feed for Trigger, who stomped his feet impatiently. On the way back, he paused in the doorway and softly asked, “Answer me this, is it the challenge of trying to get her into bed, or are you really interested in her?” He filled the horse’s feedbag while Tim wracked his brain for an answer.
He wasn’t even close to figuring it all out, so he erred on the side of caution, even though he knew he’d sound like an asshole. “She’s really hot.”
“You know, for a minute there, you almost had me fooled.” Zack slapped him on the back, and arm in arm they exited the barn.
My dad is a chauvinistic pig.
After Daddy and Uncle Zack left the barn, I crept out of the far stall where Daisy’s puppies were, and latched the door behind me so they wouldn’t escape. I listened to their whines and fought the urge to go back and get one, not sure if it would have actually been for my comfort or theirs. Even though I felt a little better knowing Daddy only wanted to sleep with The Witch.
I knew he’d stop and eat at Gram’s before heading home. That gave me time to get home. Hopefully, neither Gram nor Aunt Dee would remember I’d gone to the barn to play with the puppies. I poked my head out the barn and relaxed a bit when I didn’t see any sign of Poppy, Handy, or Pate. Nobody was looking out Gram’s back door, so I darted across the back yard, pausing to catch my breath under the kitchen window. Out front, I spotted Uncle Zack walking home, his back to me. With one last look over my shoulder, I hustled across the road and slipped inside my own house.
I quietly shut the door behind me and repeatedly banged my head against it in frustration. I’d spent all afternoon at Gram’s doing today’s homework and visiting with Aunt Jessa. Which meant my stuff was still over there, and I had a paper to write. Hopefully, Daddy would bring it home. I sat on the bench in the entryway and yanked off my boots before heading into the downstairs hall to turn on the air conditioning. The thermostat registered eighty-five and the house was a swamp. After grabbing a drink, I settled in at Dad’s office computer to start some research. While I waited for it to boot up, I thumbed through the mail sitting on his desk. Junk, junk, bills. I tossed the envelopes aside, clearing a workspace as I went. The last one caught my eye—California Department of Corrections, and it was addressed to dad. Dad sold horses all over the country so California DOC wouldn’t be the first law agency to contact him. I threw it aside, making sure it rested on top of the pile, just in case it was important, and jumped on the information superhighway to research my paper on Anne Boleyn—some wife of Henry the Eighth. This was my last big assignment for Lightener’s English class. I’d done Henry the Eighth during school and been fascinated by the king who executed so many wives. Unfortunately, Lightener hadn’t been amused at all the extra information I’d added about the king’s alleged syphilis. Killjoy!
I was in the middle of jotting notes on paper scraps when the front door slammed, and Daddy appeared in the doorway and tossed my backpack at my feet. Judging from the frown on his face, he still wasn’t a happy camper, and for a minute, I wondered if he knew I’d heard him earlier in the barn.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”
“Research for my paper. You know, homework?” I leaned over and fished out my notebook. “Why the hell are you in such a crabby mood? Trouble in Oz?” I stifled a grin at my not-so-subtle reference to Toni, The Wicked Witch of the West, even if he didn’t get it.
He walked around me and snatched up his mail. “Watch it. I’m not in the mood for your smart mouth tonight. I’m gonna go take a shower.” Mail in hand, he disappeared into his own bedroom and shut the door behind him.
I did some major multi-tasking, searching for information on Anne Boleyn and working out a semi-cohesive paper while I tossed around the problem of what to do about Toni. I would have thought somebody like her would have latched on to Daddy in a heartbeat. Maybe she had a different game plan. I’d have to ask Aunt Dee about that, and before Wednesday, too. Despite our cozy father-daughter talk the other night, no way was I asking Daddy sex questions. I couldn’t believe he had another date with her, and I considered tracking her down and telling her to sleep with him and get it over with, so he’d just get her out of his system.
Too bad I didn’t know Toni’s last name, otherwise I could’ve looked her up on Facebook or something. After I shoved everything in my backpack for tomorrow, I pulled out my notebook and scribbled a reminder: Get Toni’s last name.
WITH NOTHING BETTER to do, I spent Tuesday cooking. By the time Kellie showed up late that afternoon I was a sweaty exhausted mess.
Wide-eyed, she sniffed the air and said, “Do you always cook like this?”
I waved her in as I shook my head. “I think it’s nerves,” I confessed as I closed the door behind her.
“What’s for dinner, and any word on your car yet?”
“Chicken fricassee. And no word on my car, sorry.”
“You won’t hear me complaining. I haven’t eaten this good since I left home.”
“Then at least all this food I cooked won’t go to waste.”
We filled our plates to capacity and our cups with cheap wine before settling at the tiny kitchen table.
“I’m going to get fat if I keep this up, especially after sitting on my ass for the last four days.”
“You’re no fatter than I am, now stop it. Besides we’ll need all our energy for Thursday night.”
She grinned and shrugged, digging in to the last of the food on her plate. “So tell me what do you do besides tend bar? And cook fabulous food.”
“That’s about it, really. And you?”
She shrugged again, the humor now gone from her face.
“Did I say something wrong?” I stood and carried my empty plate to the trash and then turned to toss my fork in the sink, only to discover her behind me.
“No, but there’s not much to tell.” She moved around me and disposed of her own plate, then leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms folded across her chest. “I’ve lived here all my life. And as you can tell, there’s not really much around here. Especially if you’re not in the market for a husband.” When I arched an eyebrow in question she added, “Not that I don’t ever want to get married, but I’m not in any rush.”
“I ain’t one to pry. I respect
your right to privacy.” I lifted my hands and shrugged. I didn’t want her to feel put on the spot, so I let it go. Instead, I stored the leftovers and wiped down the counters while she cleaned the table.
“There’s not really much to tell, I suppose,” she finally said. “I guess I’m one of those people who always managed to blend into the background. You know, if life were a movie, I’d be an extra.”
The chuckle that followed hurt my soul a little, but I understood where she was coming from—more than she could imagine.
“My adoptive parents are dead, and my younger brother and sister don’t want anything to do with me because I’m adopted and they’re not.”
My insides tightened at her words, and I froze before turning to face her. I couldn’t stop my mouth from falling open in shock. Her words were like a knife twisting in my chest, mutilating my heart. “Absolutely nothing?” My first thought was what if somebody, somewhere, was treating my baby Nichole like that. My second thought was how much I wanted to hug Kellie. And I wasn’t a hugger.
“It’s not like I was their real kid.” She shrugged, as if that excused the behavior of her siblings or parents.
“Tha’s the most horrible fucking thing I ever heard in my entire goddamn life.”
I leaned against the stove, still shocked and sickened at her revelation.
“Nope.” She looked at me, her eyes wide, her lips pursed, as if she somehow sensed that she said too much or was afraid of what might come out next if she kept talking.
Enough was enough. “How about we finish the wine in the living room,” I suggested, tossing my dishrag in the sink.
She nodded her agreement, and I grabbed the bottle from the counter behind her. “Get our glasses.”
We settled on the living room floor and proceeded to get a little drunk. “How come you never told them off? I mean, me personally, I would have taken great pleasure in reaming their asses.”