The Milkman

by Tabatha Kiss

  “Can we get this one?” he asks, holding up a play set larger than his head.

  “No, buddy,” Will tells him. “If I buy you another one of these this close to your birthday, your mom will kill me.”

  “Please!” He throws on a vicious pout; one so powerful it even weakens my resolve.

  “Oh, come on, Uncle Will…” I tease him with a grin. “Just this once.”

  He glares playfully at me and sighs. “Fine…” he takes the set from Andy, “but we have to keep it at my place, all right? We’ll put it together next week.”

  “Okay!” Andy bounces with excitement and runs off toward the toy soldiers again.

  Will shifts the box beneath his arm. “Thanks a lot.”

  I flick the plastic name tag on my smock. “Just doing my job, sir.”

  “Well, we should get going,” he says. “The kid can get a little moody if he doesn’t eat on schedule.”

  “He and I have that in common.”

  Will laughs again. “You haven’t changed at all.”

  “So, I hear…” I shrug and gesture toward the front. “I’ll ring you guys up.”

  Don’t trip on anything. Don’t trip on anything. Don’t—

  I swerve around a candy display just off the aisle, keeping my head down low to try and breathe through the fire burning my cheeks.

  We reach the counter and Will passes the box over to me. Every time I glance up, I catch him staring at my face instead of my hands or chest or anything else.

  “Thirty twenty-five,” I say, prompting him to pull out his debit card.

  “It really is nice to see you again, Jove,” he says, slowly handing it to me.

  I bite my lip as I swipe. “You know, you’re the first person to say that to me I actually believe.”

  Will’s smile lingers on his mouth for several seconds. He barely blinks. He just stands there, slowly inhaling and exhaling, as my hand hovers next to his with his card clenched between my fingertips.

  “What are you doing tonight?” he asks.

  “I’m here until seven,” I answer without thinking.

  “Sara usually picks him up around then.” He pauses. “Do you want to grab a drink with me? Not a date, obviously, just to catch up.”

  “Uhh…” My thoughts turn to mush in my head, leaving me to run on pure instinct alone. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  I nod, crushed beneath the weight on my shoulders. “Sounds good.”

  “Uncle Will, come on.”

  He snaps out of it as Andy yanks on his arm. “Right… we should get going.”

  I force my eyes downward as I hand over his card and his thumb grazes mine. “Would you like a bag?” I force out.

  “No, thanks. We can carry it, I think.” Will picks up the box and Andy instantly holds out his little arms. “Don’t drop it, all right?”

  “I won’t!”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes!”

  I watch them with a smile, feeling it burrow into my face while something far deeper and colder takes hold of my gut.

  Andy sprints off toward the doors but Will stays back for a moment more with me.

  “I’ll see you tonight, Jovie Ross.”

  A shiver tingles my spine. “Yeah. I’ll see you tonight.”

  The right edge of his mouth curls into that familiar smirk and my knees jolt beneath the counter.

  Will walks off to catch up with Andy as the kid bolts outside. I wait until he’s completely out of sight and the entry bell fades off before deflating every molecule of air from my lungs.

  “Holy shit…”

  I collapse forward to rest my head on my arms and take a few rough breaths.

  That went better than I expected.

  Way better.

  Worst case scenario… I imagined something being thrown at someone’s head. Some shouting or cursing. I can’t say I expected a kind and gentle interaction, complete with an adorable child and Will practically undressing me with his eyes.

  Oh, crap. Did I say he could pick me up on his motorcycle for a midnight ride? I definitely said that part, right?

  I raise my head, feeling that smile return to my lips.

  Will Myers.

  At least he’s not mad at me.

  Yet.

  Five

  Will

  Jovie Ross.

  At least she’s not still mad at me.

  I think.

  It’s been four years. Surely, if she was still harboring some major hostility, it would have shown through at some point during our conversation. Jovie was pleasant the entire time. It was light and fluffy Jovie with her little, curling smile and her adorable laugh and that new long, wavy hair. Sure, I may have caught her off-guard, and yeah, she was working so she probably had her customer service switch flicked on, but I know Jovie better than I know myself.

  Or knew, I suppose…

  A knock strikes my front door, bringing me out of my trance. Andy hops up off the floor, casually kicking over his toy trucks on the way to answer it.

  “Careful, buddy,” I say, leaning down to pick them up.

  Andy stands on his tippy-toes, trying to reach the door lock but his finger barely swipes it.

  “Hang on…” I laugh.

  “It’s Mom!”

  “I know it’s your mom.”

  I twist the lock and open the door on Sara’s smiling face. Andy rushes at her and she bends over to wrap her arms around him.

  “Hey, sweetie!” she greets him, squeezing tight. “Did you and Uncle Will have fun today?”

  “Yeah! He let me watch shark attack videos!”

  Sara gawks at my wincing face. “He did, did he?”

  I force a chuckle. “I also taught him the value of secrets and loyalty amongst friends but I guess that lesson is a two-parter.”

  Andy hops on the balls of his feet. “And we got burgers and ice cream and he took me to the toy store!”

  Her cheeks fade into a dark pink to match her scrubs. “Hey, Andy, why don’t you pack up your stuff while I talk to my brother for a second, okay?”

  “Okay, Mommy.”

  She nudges him and he takes off to grab his backpack.

  “Kitchen,” she whispers at me. “Now.”

  I groan as she stomps through my living room and down the hall.

  “You know,” I say, entering the kitchen behind her, “you morph a little bit more into Mom every single time you do that.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she says, shaking it off. “Why did you go to the toy store?”

  “Calm down. I didn’t get him anything. We were just browsing.”

  “I don’t care about that. Why did you go into the toy store?”

  I raise a confused brow. “Because I had to entertain your kid for an afternoon.”

  Her eyes narrow. “And?”

  “And he’s too young for a strip club.”

  Sara crosses her arms, standing a little taller every second until I finally cave.

  “Jovie was there,” I say.

  She exhales. “Dammit.”

  “Sara, it’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not fine, Will. This isn’t fine. Who told you she was back?”

  I pause. “Did you know she was back?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wha—” I throw up my hands. “Why was I the last to know this?”

  “Because Jovie destroyed your life and no one in this town wants to see that happen again. That’s why.”

  “She did not,” I chuckle. “Don’t be so dramatic. Wait a second…” I furrow my brow. “Is this why you tried to set me up with your friend? And why women have been coming into the shop all week throwing themselves at me? Because you all wanted to distract me from Jovie?”

  She hesitates. “Well…”

  My mouth sags. “So, that’s one mystery solved.”

  “Will, we watched you pick up the pieces of your shattered heart for months after Jovie took off—”

  �
��I guess you didn’t hear the part about not being dramatic,” I mutter.

  “I’m serious. We just want you to be happy.”

  “I’m not happy? Who says I’m not happy?”

  “You live here alone in a house meant for a family,” she says, gesturing around my kitchen. “You’ve barely gone out on a date in years.”

  “That’s not true. I date all the time.”

  “Name the last time you went on a second date,” she counters.

  I think quickly but I can’t come up with a single name.

  “So, what?” I ask. “I worked hard and paid for this house because I liked it. What’s wrong with that? And what business is it of yours who or when I date?”

  Sara presses her lips together. “Okay, Will… I want you to be honest with me. As your sister and your friend, just answer this question…”

  I sigh. “What?”

  “Have you spent the last four years waiting for Jovie to come back?”

  “No, I haven’t,” I answer, shaking my head at the floor.

  She takes a step closer. “You didn’t ask her out, did you?”

  I hesitate. “Well…”

  “Ugh…” Her face screws up in disgust. “God, Will...”

  “We’re just meeting up for drinks. As friends. That’s all,” I say. “It’s not a date. And hell, aren’t you the least bit curious why she came back?”

  “No, I’m not. And you shouldn’t be either.”

  “Well, I am.”

  She blinks her wide, begging eyes. “Will, please, do not go out with her.”

  “We’re just catching up, Sara. No one’s exchanging vows.”

  “Exactly. You’re not and you never will.”

  I flex my jaw. “I’m sorry. Was that an order?”

  “It’s a fact.” She shakes her head. “Jovie Ross is going to string you along just like last time. And then, just like last time, you’re going to get too attached to her and then she’s—”

  I laugh over her. “What the hell are you talking about? I dumped her, remember?”

  “And while she rode off into the sunset, you lived here like a damn shut-in. You didn’t get out of bed for weeks after she ran off because she never called your bluff.”

  A pang grips my chest but I power through it. “Well, she’s back now,” I say. “If you ride into the sunset long enough, you end up right back where you started, right?”

  She breathes a sad sigh. “That’s not how that works, Will. She doesn’t belong here. Sooner or later, Jovie’s going to pack up and leave again and when she does—”

  “Sara, stop.” I hold up a hand. “Like I said, we’re just catching up. I know you always hated her but it’s been four years. Cut her some slack.”

  Andy walks in with his backpack and hugs Sara’s knees, forcing the two of us to lower our voices.

  “Well…” she combs her fingers through his hair, “I hope you’re right. But I won’t be the least bit surprised to have to say I told you so again.” She pokes Andy’s chin. “Honey, come on. Say goodbye to Uncle Will.”

  Andy smiles at me. “Bye, Uncle Will.”

  “See you later, buddy,” I say, messing up his hair.

  Sara guides him through the house to the front door, all the while fixing his shaggy mane back down where it belongs as they step outside.

  I linger in the doorway and wave at Andy as he twists around to give me another floppy goodbye in return. Sara gets him into his seat and glances over her shoulder at me, flashing a hard, disappointing stare in my direction.

  I guess I can’t really blame her. I can deny it all I want to her face but Sara’s right when she says I was pretty fucked up for a few months after Jovie left.

  But she’s back now.

  I close the door and eye the coat closet in the corner beside me, feeling a sudden rush of excitement spike in my blood.

  My lips curl to one side. I open the closet and reach up onto the top shelf until I touch something smooth and round.

  The helmet carries a thin layer of dust, distorting the lightning blue color, but it’s nothing a quick wipe down with a cloth won’t fix.

  I turn it over in my hands, admiring its weight as memories of Jovie riding shotgun come rushing back to me.

  All those late-night rides through the town square, revving the Bolt as loudly as possible to try and piss off anyone we could.

  And — especially — the quiet nights together when we’d pull off the highway and fool around until some state trooper rode in and told us crazy kids to go home.

  And — even better — the nights when the trooper never showed up at all and Jovie made a man out of me.

  Christ, Jove.

  Where the hell have you been?

  I set the helmet down and grab my leather jacket off the back of the door.

  Six

  Jovie

  What the hell was I thinking?

  When I agreed to get drinks with Will Myers, I couldn’t focus through the thick haze of heat and confusion long enough to foresee myself in this moment.

  The last time I stood in this closet, it was grab and run. I took the items I couldn’t live without and left the rest. I often wondered what my father would do with this stuff. Toss it, maybe. Sell it for any spare change he could get for it, more likely. Can’t say I expected it all to still be here when — or if — I ever came back.

  But it’s all still here. Ripped jeans and band t-shirts. Miniskirts and knee-high boots. I’ve never been the poster girl for modern fashion but I had a look, that’s for sure. Little retro here, little modern chic there. No fucks given everywhere else.

  But I’m not that girl anymore.

  So, what the hell am I supposed to wear tonight?

  I remind myself again that this isn’t a date. I don’t have to look perfect. I’m just catching up with someone that I used to know. Someone I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with at one point but still just someone I knew before I knew any better.

  I stop staring and start sliding the hangers to the side, taking a closer look at my options. It’s still too cold for a skirt or sleeveless, so that eliminates these. I grab a pair of old jeans and slip into them. A bit snug, but at least they still fit.

  I find a black turtleneck in the back and step into a pair of matching boots. Good enough.

  The engine echoes up the street just as I finish applying my lipstick. I pause, letting the sound sweep over me for a few seconds as I stare at myself. My first thought is to shut off the lights and head toward the window. That’s what I did so many times before but this isn’t high school anymore.

  I stuff my house key and wallet into my jacket pocket and walk through the house toward the front door.

  Hank sits on his chair in front of the TV. “Where are you going?”

  “Into town to meet up with old friends,” I say, flicking the locks open.

  “What friends?” he mutters. “You never had friends.”

  I ignore the question. “I’ll be back later.”

  “Don’t think I don’t remember whose bike that is.”

  “I’m twenty-three-years-old, Hank,” I point out. “I think we’re past the age where you get to tell me who I can spend my time with.”

  “I think if you spent more time listening to what I told you then you wouldn’t have moved back home at twenty-three,” he says, popping a victory cashew into his mouth.

  “I’ll be back later,” I repeat, yanking the door open and stepping outside.

  And just like that, I’m seventeen again; walking outside with rolling eyes and a shitty attitude to run away from my drunken father and straight into Will Myers’ arms. It’s almost nostalgic.

  Will sits on his motorcycle at the end of the driveway and while my toes curl a little bit as he pulls his helmet off and smiles at me, my eyes instantly fall to The Bolt instead.

  “Oh, baby,” I say, admiring it. “I’ve missed you.”

  Will revs the engine once and the sound echoes throughout the n
eighborhood. “I’d feel jealous, but this is a really nice bike.”

  “Damn right.”

  He hops off his seat and lifts it open to grab the second helmet from inside the hatch. “For you...”

  I take it from him, smiling wide. “Wow, you really did keep it.”

  “Well, I’m a hoarder. Don’t take it personally.”

  I chuckle and turn it over in my hands. “So, who used it after me?”

  “Nobody,” he says. I raise a brow. “Jovie, I swear, nobody has worn that thing but you.”

  “The strap is wrong.”

  He pauses. “What?”

  I hold it out to him. “I made a notch in the strap to easily secure optimum snugness for my head.”

  “So?”

  “So, now, it’s moved.”

  “I move the strap when I clean it.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Jovie...” he smirks, “just put it on.”

  I sigh and adjust the strap to its proper place. “Fine.” I push my hair back to keep it from getting caught as I pull the helmet onto my head. “Smells like a nightclub in here…”

  “Who knew you were the jealous type?” he chuckles.

  I stare through the shield. “So, where are we going?” I ask, sliding onto the seat behind him.

  “Lucky’s?” he suggests.

  “Sounds good.”

  He revs the engine again, sending a flurry of delightful vibrations through my core.

  “Oh, baby...” I say again.

  He glares over his shoulder at me.

  “Who knew you were the jealous type?” I parrot back as I slam the shield down.

  We take off at top speed through the neighborhood. Wind rushes past and I rest my hands on his waist to hold me up. Fire and lightning shoot up my arms the moment I touch him. I flinch and hope to God he doesn’t notice my quivering fingers.

  Will, Jovie, and the Bolt. I can’t begin to guess how many times the two of us rode through town like this, swerving through the empty streets in the middle of the night. No one around. Nothing to stop us. Of course, if we rode in one place too long, the sheriff would show up, but we usually managed to stay ahead of him. We had our regular haunts. The quiet places where we could pull over and sit beneath the stars.