by Devyn Dawson
“A farmer? I would never have guessed that was your background. Not to be in your business, but is that how you can afford such fancy things?” I blurt out without thinking. “I’m sorry, that isn’t any of my business.”
Tate smiles. “No one other than my family and my friend Cassie knows this, but my grandfather left me a trust fund. It might be why I shy away from getting in trouble. He put a stipulation on the money, if I get into any trouble, the trust will be unavailable to me for a year. He did say I could get speeding tickets, but I can’t get a D.U.I.”
“At least you can get tickets,” I can’t help but grinning at him. “Your grandfather sounds like he loved you very much. Are your parents living?”
He butters a slice of bread and hands it to me. As he butters another slice, I’m assuming for himself, he tells me more about his family. “My dad broke up with my Mom when she found out she was pregnant. He’s never seen me, and I don’t have any desire to meet someone that careless. My grandfather filled in the void, he was like a dad to me. My mom, Claudia, smothers me. We fought a lot when I was living at home. I think she resents me because her father by-passed her and left it to me. When my grandmother passes away, the farm is mine. When I get out, if I don’t have a recording contract, I’ll go and run the farm. Enough about me, tell me more about you, Holland. Don’t leave out any details, I want to know you from the inside out.”
He’s good. “I’m the polar opposite of you. My Mom left when I was thirteen, I’ve never heard from her since she left. I live with my dad. He has some issues, so I take care of him and work at the vitamin store. My dad fixates on something and it drives him crazy. The military is one of those things he goes crazy over.” I stop, half expecting him to get up and leave or say something so prolific I melt in my chair.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t know what to say other than parents suck.”
I nod my head, “That they do. So, who’s Cassie?”
“You caught that huh?” For a moment, we make eye contact. For thirty seconds, we get lost in a alter universe, one that only has the two of us. “She’s the daughter of our horse wrangler, they’ve lived on the farm since my grandfather died. Cassie’s my best friend, and one of the kindest people I know. I’m sure you’re wondering if we ever hooked up.”
What? Hook up? I didn’t even go there in my mind. Well, did you? “No, I didn’t think that at all. I was wondering if she was a friend or competition.” There, take that. He stifles a laugh and suddenly I feel self-conscious about how the date is going. “Did I say something funny?”
“Oh, I’m not laughing at you. Not really. I like how you asked if she is competition. We’re only friends. We’ve never dated or anything close to it. She’s been dating the same guy for the last four years and she’s been expecting him to propose any time.”
The waiter comes over and brings us our salads.
“That’s cool that you had someone on the farm to hang out with. What’s your grandma like? Is she the sweet granny type, or the determined businesswoman?”
“It depends on the time of day. During the day, she’s working and determined. In the evening, she’s in the kitchen with the chef preparing dinner. I think she secretly has the hots for Chef Jean-Paul.” He sprinkles oil and vinegar over his salad as he talks.
“Chef? You have a chef?” I can’t help asking. I’ve never had anything remotely close to the life he has.
His ears turn dark crimson and I realize I’ve embarrassed him.
“No, I have a mess-hall to eat in, my grandma has a chef. There are so many people who work on the farm and we provide them with lunch and many days they get dinner too. They have to work hard in the fields with the gardens and the cattle. The barn has a huge kitchen and Jean-Paul is the manager of it, he has crew to help him prepare lunch. He comes over to the house and makes dinner for us.”
“That sounds cool. Not many places provide food for their employees. Does your mom or grandma come out and visit? This is cattle country, do they do any business with Oklahoma?” I take another bite of my salad just in time for my dinner to arrive.
Tate pauses as he waits for our dinners to be set down and the staff to walk away. “My Grandma came out when I first got stationed here. Oklahoma is a little far away for us to do business with, but there are trucks who ship down here. Enough about me. Did your dad buy you your car or did you?”
I lift my napkin to my mouth to cover my cough from getting on the food. “No, retail doesn’t pay me enough to cover a payment for a car. My Dad’s older sister, Aunt Laney, bought it for my high school graduation. She’s a blessing in my life. Thankfully, because of her, I’m able to have a job and take care of errands. My dad and his sister haven’t talked in a while though. He doesn’t talk to anyone but me.” Stop talking about Dad! “Tate, I don’t want to spend this incredible dinner talking about my family. Can we change to something a little less dramatic?” He smiles and reaches across the table taking my hand in his.
“Of course, but one day, you’ll tell me the story of your life. There’s so much about you that intrigues me.” He gives my hand a light squeeze before letting go.
“So what do you think about Oklahoma? Do you hate it here?”
He shakes his head no and wipes his mouth with his napkin. “It took some getting used to, but it’s growing on me day by day. There aren’t very many trees here though. The trees here are short, the kind you can hang a swing from a branch. The only thing I don’t like is the red dirt, it gets into everything. There’s no hope to ever have a pair of white sneakers.”
“Sneakers? That’s funny, we call them tennis shoes, but I don’t know anyone who plays tennis. Are you an OU or OSU fan now that you’re here?” Our college football teams are huge rivals and all the rage during football season.
“You’re not going to believe me, but I’ve never watched a football game. I am an Oklahoma Thunder fan. That is one amazing team. Have you ever been to a game?”
“I don’t watch football either! I’m not going to lie, I love the Thunder. I haven’t been to one of the games, but it’s on my bucket list.”
“We’ll have to go some time.”
I don’t know what to say to that. The Thunder just finished playoffs, which means they don’t play again until next season. That means he’s considering us dating for a while.
“Have you ever kayaked?” Tate asks before taking another bite of his food.
“Oh, I’d love to kayak. It looks like so much fun. Do you kayak?”
“Kayaking is a passion of mine. I keep a storage unit off base where I keep my outdoor gear. I have a couple of kayaks, I’d love to take you out some time. In Oregon we have some of the most dangerous, but gorgeous areas to kayak. The media call us extreme kayakers because we’re all crazy who kayak at Eagle Creek. It is also a beautiful place to go hiking. Being outside is my favorite place to be. At least, it was up until I met you, and now you’re my favorite.”
“Tate that was probably the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.” My napkin almost falls off my lap and I lean over to catch it before it hits the floor. After folding it up, I set it next to my plate.
We both laugh for a minute before saying anything else.
“It was cheesy wasn’t it? I realized it as soon as it fell out of my mouth. Would you like dessert?”
Yup, you’ll do. “No, I’m saving room for popcorn at the movies.”
The waiter comes over and asks if we want anything else. A part of me is sad because I know that for two hours, I won’t be able hear more about his fascinating life. For two hours, I’ll be stuck in my head waiting to say goodnight to him. To feel his lips against mine again.
We drove separately to the theater so my car wouldn’t look abandoned at the restaurant.
“Holland?”
“Tate?”
“Would you like to take a drive around Draper Lake?”
There is a God! “I’d love to, unless you plan on taking me out there and killing me.”
r /> “No, I plan on you being around for a while, no homicidal tendencies here.”
We’re holding hands as we walk out of the theater. Everything feels normal, and my life is anything but normal.
Draper has a lot of trails that take you through the woods that lead to make-out sites. On Friday and Saturday nights, there are parties with bonfires and music and a lot of drinking. Andy and I had our fair share of fun at Draper. One time she was so stinking drunk, I had to carry her inside her house and up the stairs without her parents finding out. My back hurt for a week. Andy felt so bad, she bought me a day at the spa.
“You were deep in thought, whatever it was, it has put the cutest grin on your face.” Tate opens the passenger door of his big black truck. He has a cherry smelling air freshener somewhere in the truck. Probably one of those little cans that go under the car seat.
“I was thinking about my best friend.” What do you call your best friend who’s dead? Ex-best-friend? Dead best friend? No one told me a title to give Andy.
“I assume you had a memorable time at the lake.”
“Something like that.”
His truck is so tall, he had a chrome step added to each side. Most of the vehicles I’ve been in have leather interior, his isn’t leather. The material is plush feeling and solid black. When he turned on the headlights, his control panel lit up with red lights. Everything is glossy and black. I picture Tate riding along with his guitar in the passenger seat and a cowboy hat on his head. Yum, cowboy. I shake my head to rid it of sexy thoughts of Tate.
Once we make the turn towards the lake, the housing editions and trailer parks disappear. They’re replaced with trees flanking each side of the street.
“This road reminds me of the drive towards my farm back home. I like to drive out here at night when I can’t see the red dirt. This place inspires me, I’ve written a few songs sitting out here. I’m going to turn into the woods, trust me, I’m not going to hurt your or anything. It leads down to the water.”
“Cool, I’ve been to a few spots for parties in the past. Good thing we’re in your truck.”
The truck turns left onto a dirt road. There’s a few puddles from the rain we had last night and Tate drives right through them. He lived on a farm, he isn’t afraid of a little dirt. I’m not dressed to walk if the truck gets stuck. Tate comes to a stop and switches a button that says 4wd, I guess that means four wheel drive.
“You ready?”
“For?”
“It looks like we’ll have a couple of puddles to go through up ahead, it might get a little bumpy.”
My boobs are going to hate me for agreeing to this. “Sounds fun. Please don’t get stuck, these shoes are terrible for walking through the woods.”
“Don’t worry, but hang on! If we get stuck, I’ll hike through the woods with you on my shoulders. Deal?”
Is it wrong to wish to be stuck now?
He cranks up Radiohead and we drive much faster than a sane person would. As we bounce around, I’m holding onto the oh shit bar as if my life depended on it. After every death defying bump, we laugh so hard my ribs hurt. Without warning, the road smooths out and we’re at a little beachy area.
The wind is uncommonly still for Oklahoma, giving the lake the opportunity to be a perfect mirror for the full moon. Tate comes around and opens my door and lifts me out of the truck. Our bodies briefly graze each other, but the feeling is singing the touch into my memory. Tate turns back to the truck and from the back seat area he pulls out his guitar. He hands it to me to hold.
“If you’ll step over here, I’m going to back the truck up so we can sit on the tailgate and look out at the lake.”
He must have impeccable sight, he backs the truck up just close enough that I have a place to stand before he lifts me onto the tailgate.
We sit side by side, not too far from each other, but not so close we’re touching. Both of us just stare out onto the lake. I’m not sure how much time passes before he picks up his guitar and starts playing a haunting song.
“That was beautiful, what was it?” I ask without turning to face him.
“I wrote it a few weeks ago, I haven’t worked out the lyrics yet. They’ll come to me though. Do you like Johnny Cash?”
“Funny you should ask, my favorite movie is, Walk the Line. I’d never heard any of his songs until I saw the movie. Do you know Hurt?”
“I do, will you sing it with me? It’s a dark song, is that the type of music you like?” Tate bumps his shoulder into mine and a spark of familiarity resonates through me. His touch reminds me what it’s like to have someone around who likes you for you.
“Your ears might bleed if you hear me sing. I like all kinds of songs but that one is so heartfelt it speaks to me.”
“Yeah, it is heartfelt. He lived a rocky life.”
“I don’t know if I can sing out here.”
“Too bad you have those shoes on, that road is pretty rough to walk on,” Tate teases.
“You wouldn’t!” I giggle.
“Please sing with me. The tone in your talking voice is graceful and I’m guessing your singing voice is amazing.” Tate pats my leg and the feeling washes over me again. “Please.”
“You’re so rotten! I’ll sing, but if the windows of your truck shatter, I’m not paying for them.”
As he plays, my heart swells up with admiration. He’s perfect in almost every way. If he weren’t in the Air Force, I’d love for my dad to meet him.
I hurt myself today,
To see if I still feel
I close my eyes and as he gets to the second line, I sing with him. Our voices meld together in all the right places.
I check my watch knowing Tate has to be at work first thing in the morning. We’re only twenty minutes from the restaurant but we should leave before anything happens. Time passes so quickly, we’ve been out here for two hours. “We should go,” I say reluctantly.
Tate sets his guitar behind us flat on the bed of the truck. “You have a beautiful voice. I’d like you to sing with me sometime.”
“You’re a funny guy. There’s no way I’m singing in front of strangers.”
“We’ll see.” He stands up and before I jump down, he’s standing in front of me, coaxing my knees apart. I suck in my breath at the intimacy of the closeness. His hands caress my bare arms causing my body to shiver all over. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” No, but you can tell me. “You have a way about you that makes me feel like you’ve been hurt and you fight to hide the pain. I want to be the one who brings happiness to you. Holland, you deserve to be happy. One day, I want to know your story, one day, I want to be in your story.”
Oh shit. I don’t know what to say. How do you respond to something so sweet but true. I do fight to hide the pain, how does he know that so soon? “I think you are already a part of the story,” I say without thinking.
His hand goes to the back of my head and before I have time to breathe again, our mouths are pleading to become one. The kiss is so deep and passionate I’m hopeful my body hasn’t turned to jell-o. He pulls back and looks into my face, our eyes begging to see the soul of the other.
“We should go,” He whispers to me. He’s right, but I don’t want to be anywhere else in the world than right here, right now.
“You’re right.” He places his hands on my waist and lifts me off the tailgate. He holds my hand as we walk the short distance to the passenger side.
The parking lot is empty except for my car and a security car driving around the theater.
As the gentleman he’s proved himself to be, he opens up my car door for me.
“Holland, can I call you tomorrow?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” Andy would be so proud of me for being so bold.
“I have a busy week this week, would you like to go to my show Friday Night in Edmond?”
“I work until six on Friday, but yeah, I’d love to if that isn’t too late to get there.”
&nb
sp; “That will give us time to grab some dinner and set up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Text me to let me know you got home okay.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thank you for tonight, it was perfect.” The universe should shine a little brighter from the happiness falling off my essence.
I’M HOME. GOODNIGHT TATE
GOODNIGHT HOLLAND, SWEET DREAMS
If I’m lucky, I’ll be dreaming about him.
***
Chapter Six. Date Night
It feels like forever since I’ve seen Tate. Edmond is only a twenty minute drive from work, so Tate is picking me up at the mall when I get off at six. Sam and Bethany have harassed me to death about going out with them this weekend. I’m not sure why I haven’t told them about my plans with Tate, but I haven’t. Sam came to work at three and has hinted around about going out tonight. All he wants is a designated driver and neither Bethany nor he can handle not drinking.
“Holl, Mr. Perfect is here,” Sam’s voice says over the loud speaker in the back office.
Tate is standing at the counter talking to Sam as I approach. He’s at an odd angle with his arm behind his back. As I get closer, he hands me a pink rose. My heart beats so hard, I’m positive he can see it through my work shirt.