by Shealy James
On the actual holiday, the boys played football in the yard while the women sat around gossiping. For the first time, I didn’t want anyone to ask about my life this year. Usually, I was thrilled to brag about my exciting city life. This year? Not so much. I knew I was going to be facing the firing squad, though, so I geared up for the onslaught of questions. I was getting older and still had no marriage prospects. It was unheard of in my hometown, so I thoughtfully prepared my lies on the flight home. When my Aunt Rose asked, “How’s that boy Jameson doing? He still treatin’ you right?” I was ready.
I responded, “No, ma’am. We broke up. There was just no spark.” I knew that would get the women in my family going, and the attention wouldn’t be stuck on me.
Aunt Rose frowned and offered the obligatory, “Bless your heart.”
“Oh, honey. You gotta have a spark,” my Aunt Linda snapped to show a little attitude. “Why, Uncle Henry and I sparked all over the place when we were your age.” And then I died of embarrassment. “Hell, we sparked in the church one time but don’t tell Pastor Buddy that.”
“Trust me. That secret’s safe with me.” There was no way I would ever repeat that little bit of information to anyone ever.
Mama turned her mixer off then asked, “So any new boys you haven’t told us about? I’d like grandbabies this century, you know. Seth sure as heck ain’t givin’ me any at this rate.”
“He still pining over that girl…what’s her face?” my grandma, Betty, asked with a snap of her fingers.
“Yes.” Mama shook her head with exasperation. “In the meantime, he’s goin’ through cows, pigs, and hoes like they’re farmin’ tools.” What she said didn’t even make sense, but all the women nodded their heads in understanding, including me.
“He’ll settle down eventually,” Aunt Linda said while she basted the turkey. “He has to sow his wild oats first.”
“Yeah,” Aunt Rose agreed. “We all know you raised him right.”
I was happy for the conversation not to be on me, so I kept my mouth shut as I covered the yams with marshmallows for the sweet potato casserole. I never knew why it had that name, considering it was only sweet potatoes, butter, brown sugar, and marshmallows. Southern people call everything a casserole, though. We had six different “casseroles” for this one dinner alone.
“So, you really have no man to keep you warm at night, Sarah?” Aunt Linda asked with a wink.
“Nope,” I tried to say as nonchalantly as possible while taking a sip of wine then carefully set my glass down without drawing attention to the way I was gripping the glass too tightly.
“I thought for sure you were looking tired because of a man.” She held my face in the palm of her hands as she inspected my skin. “Now I’m wonderin’ if you’re not workin’ too hard.” My Aunt Linda was a hairdresser. She mastered the art of big southern hair at the ripe age of fourteen and had been working at a salon in Montgomery ever since. Today she was wearing a leopard print top with leopard boots over her skintight black jeans, and her hair was nothing short of a work of art.
“Thanks, Aunt Linda. Always nice to know when I look like crap.”
“Oh, honey, she didn’t mean it like that.” Mama fluffed my hair. “You just aren’t your usual vibrant self.” Now two people were touching me, and I was doing everything I could to keep my elbows glued to my sides and my hands from breaking the delicate crystal of my mother’s wine glasses. I wasn’t about to tell them the reason I looked tired was that I had feelings for a guy who didn’t want me. That would spark a whole new nightmare that I wasn’t sure I could handle at the moment.
“I’ve been working late most nights,” I partially lied. “It’ll be better when I get a break from classes and can focus on the study.”
“Maybe you need a break from the study. You should come home for a few weeks at Christmas and rejuvenate,” Grandma Betty scolded.
“You know I can’t,” I reminded her as gently as I could even though I could feel my temper rising. Every one of these women had a temper, and if I let mine out, four more would follow. No one wanted to see another wild argument among the women in my family on Thanksgiving. Turkey Day of 2008 still haunted the men to this day.
They all ignored me, and Mama said, “Bobby Rae would like to see you.”
“Ooh. That’s right. He’s been sweet on her since elementary school.” This was from Aunt Rose.
“I already told Bobby Rae I wasn’t interested. I believe my words were, ‘You’re sweet, but it’s never gonna happen.’ He seemed to understand the word never pretty clearly after I patted his shoulder to confirm his placement in the friend zone.”
As usual, Aunt Linda took it too far. “Good for you! Bobby Rae is gutless if he hadn’t already landed her. You should show more skin, girlfriend. I bet you’d be married to a real man if you showed more skin.”
My other grandma, my mom’s mom, came into the kitchen right then. “Leave the poor girl alone. She’s in school and working on a big secret research project for the government.” Memaw was saving me, so I wasn’t about to correct her about the government project. Let her think I was doing a top-secret project. Who cared, right?
I kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “Thank you, Memaw,” before I darted out of the room to hide out on the front porch.
I pulled out my phone to find a message from Michael.
Happy Thanksgiving.
He was thinking about me. That was something at least.
I replied simply wishing him the same then called Maggie to wish her a happy holiday. She was busy and couldn’t talk, which was fine. I was seeing her on my way back to New York. Because I was flying out of Atlanta, we agreed to meet up for lunch before my flight. I couldn’t wait to see my best friend with her baby bump. I missed it the first time when she had Perry, so this was exciting for me.
As I held my phone in my hand, it vibrated to alert me to a text and then another. Hoping it was from Michael, I quickly looked at the screen, but it wasn’t Michael. It was Jameson. I gasped and stepped back hard against the house forcing my phone to fall out of my hands. Seth saw me and came up the steps. “Sarah?” he frowned.
I couldn’t speak yet. I was panicking over what it said.
So you went home to Alabama? You didn’t think a restraining order could keep me away, did you? My lawyer and I had a good laugh at that one. Nice try, baby.
My phone buzzed with another while I was still processing the first message while reaching for my phone before Seth could get to it.
See you on Saturday when you get back. By the way, I like the new sheets. Nice and soft, even if they are pink.
Before I could stop him, Seth was grabbing my phone out of my hands. “You have a restraining order out on someone? And he knows what your sheets feel like? You slept with a guy who you have filed a restraining order against? I don’t understand.” This time he spoke a little slower, and his pitch and volume increased with each word. “You have…a…restraining order out on someone!” Seth was officially freaking out. Join the club, brother.
I looked back at my phone and read the messages again letting it all sink in. “They’re brand new,” I mumbled. I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but I was processing what his words meant, not to mention the fact that I was upset and scared. My mind wasn’t exactly thinking rational thoughts.
“What are brand new?”
“The sheets. They came in the mail last week. I washed them and put them on my bed so I would have something to look forward to when I returned to New York.” That didn’t work out so well for me.
“He’s in your apartment!” Seth whispered angrily, more aware of his volume this time. “What the hell’s going on?”
He grabbed my arm to guide me away from the door, but the moment he touched the skin above my elbow I recoiled. He saw my expression and held his hands up in surrender.
He looked frightened now, too. “Whoa, Sarah. It’s me. You know I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk away from eve
ryone.”
“Barn,” I told him and started walking that way. He followed, keeping his hands to himself.
The only sound between us was our footsteps on the ground until my cousin Tommy yelled, “Seth, where ya goin’?”
“Be back in a minute,” Seth yelled back.
Once inside the barn, Seth slammed the barn door making me jump. “Talk,” he commanded, so I did. He was my brother. I usually didn’t talk to him about guys, but this time I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want Mama and Daddy to know, and Seth had always known when to keep a secret. It used to tick Mama and Daddy off that Seth and I kept stuff from them, but eventually they understood it was a twin thing.
After I had told him everything, I breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, Seth didn’t share my sentiment because he lost his damn mind. “That’s it. I’m comin’ to New York with you and we’re finding you a better apartment with more security. I won’t leave you ‘til I know you’re safe.” He paced the length of the barn. “Dammit, Sarah! Why didn’t you tell me sooner? The fucker hurt you! I shoulda known.”
“Seth, please. Our twindar doesn’t cover the continental United States. I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want you to freak out. I filed a police report, and the judge granted the restraining order on Monday. I have the cop’s card who helped me file the report so I will email him the text messages to add to the report. They’ll arrest him.”
“Not good enough. The fucker was in. Your. Apartment!” He punctuated each word by pointing to God. I bet God didn’t appreciate that.
“But. I. Wasn’t!” I shouted back at my brother but keeping my pointer finger, and all other fingers for that matter, closed in my fist.
This time he stuck that finger in my face. “You keep somethin’ like this from me again, I’ll tell Daddy. Your ass’ll be back in ‘Bama so fast, you’ll think the wind carried you.” He stormed out of the barn and left me there stomping my cute monogrammed cowboy boots in the hay.
Twelve
Michael
Thanksgiving was the same as it had been since Amy and Phil moved into the house. We might as well have called it poker night and been done with it. Jay did all the cooking at Phil and Amy’s house. Moretti talked incessantly about Lana, who he was meeting up with later. Amy looked exhausted, claiming it was hard to sleep during your eighth month of pregnancy. I wouldn’t know. Phil was too busy trying to keep Amy happy to shoot the shit with us. We all split once dinner was over. It was like we were a real family, darting out of there at the earliest possible break to get back to our real lives. While part of me was happy to head over to the track, I chose them for my family because we all honestly enjoyed spending time together. Things were changing. I was changing, and change wasn’t something I could easily deal with these days.
I blew off my thoughts and focused on rebuilding an original 1992 Dodge Viper. We replaced the factory engine with the second-generation eight point three liter to increase the horsepower and hopefully the top speed by a little over twenty miles per hour. As soon as they finished the custom seats, we’d be able to put it all together and have Randy test it out. I was admittedly excited about this rebuild. It was the first of this caliber that I had done almost entirely on my own while Joe was home with his family.
The rebuild probably would have gone faster if my head didn’t keep returning to a certain blonde who I couldn’t forget no matter how hard I tried. I knew Sarah was out of town, but I couldn’t stop thinking about our last conversation, if you could call it that. Her responses were short, making me wonder if she was busy or if what Amy said had pushed her too far. I shouldn’t care. I knew I wasn’t going to be the kind of guy she needed. Sarah deserved a fucking prince, not the knight with too many chinks in his armor.
At the same time, I didn’t want to let go of the one person who had made me feel freer and happier than any other person I had ever met. Even if I regretted it, I wanted Sarah. I needed Sarah. She made me smile. Hell, she made me laugh...out loud. With every smile, every word, and every touch, she made me feel happier than I ever thought I could, and I wanted to keep going back for more of what she gave me. I was content to be addicted to her. The only problem was I knew that Amy had been right. One of us was bound to get hurt. I didn’t know what bothered me more, the idea that she might hurt me, or I might hurt her.
When Monday rolled around, desperation gave me the nerve to head over to Sarah’s apartment. Instinct had me checking for a hired car like I always did, but there wasn’t anything suspicious. I had planned to go up and talk to her, but I didn’t think I could handle being alone with her in the cramped apartment again. Instead, I took the coward’s way out and sent her a text.
You home?
Yes. Why?
Come downstairs.
???
She probably wanted to know why she had to leave the comfort of her warm apartment to go to the man who she hadn’t spoken to since the day of the races, but thankfully, she came down anyway. The tall blond guy following her was an unexpected and unpleasant surprise. From what I could tell, she was trying to get him to stay behind. Was that Jameson? He also had blond hair if I remembered correctly. Dress pants, button-down, stupid combed hair. It could be him, but this guy was big and looked like he knew his way around a gym.
“Seth, go!” she snapped.
“Not happening, Sarah.”
I couldn’t believe it. I was going to have to find a way to get another guy to leave her alone. I swung my leg over my bike and moved closer to Sarah and the guy. We approached each other angrily. “You the guy leaving bruises on my sister?” he growled as he came closer.
“Sister?” I asked stopping in my tracks. I could see the resemblance now that we were closer.
“Seth. Stop. It isn’t him,” Sarah begged and put her hands on his chest to push him away. She stood between us facing her brother. If the dumbass didn’t calm down, Sarah would be the first to get hurt from his irresponsibility and stupidity. He would be the second because if he so much as laid a hand on her, I would destroy him, brother or not. I braced myself to pull Sarah out of the way while the big guy in front of her continued to breathe heavily with his eyes trained on me.
Suddenly, he snapped out of it, but I didn’t relax my stance. “Then who the hell is he?” The guy pointed at me while looking down at Sarah. If he stuck that finger in my face one more time, I would show him a better place to stick it.
“He’s someone I met while working at the VA. Now go back inside.” He gave me one last look of derision before heading back inside the apartment. I had to admit, I was a little disappointed that he tucked his hand in his pockets and stepped away. I wanted to punch the pompous asshole in the face.
Once he was out of earshot, I crossed my arms and said, “We’re back to that study participant thing, are we? Are you going to start calling me Sergeant Pearson again?”
She didn’t look amused. In fact, she looked angry. Mirroring my stance, she asked, “What are you doing here, Michael?” Ouch. I was ready to abandon my original plan and take her back to my place until she told me how to make her smile again. I wanted too much from her. I felt too much for her. Too much. Too much. Too much.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
“You could’ve called.” True. True.
I nodded my agreement. “I wanted to see you.” That was more of the truth than I wanted to share, but I was giving into her. It was time to surrender.
“Why?” she asked in a way that sounded…hopeful, maybe?
“I needed to know you were all right.”
Then she sighed and frowned. I said something wrong. What would be offensive about wanting her to be okay?
“I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me. My brother is here to watch over me until I move into a new apartment because he also thinks I am incapable of handling my life on my own. You don’t have to worry anymore.” She started walking back inside, so I scrambled for something to make her listen
.
“Wait!” Yeah, I had nothing.
She stopped and turned around with no expression on her face. Then it occurred to me. Her brother wouldn’t be here to watch over her if he didn’t think something was wrong. “Did you tell him what happened?”
I saw her perfectly white teeth sink into that plump bottom lip. “I had to.”
“Why?”
She looked away refusing to answer.
“Why, Sarah?”
“Because he found out about it.”
“How?”
She took a deep breath and looked at the sky. “He just did.”
I stepped closer to her because I couldn’t stand it anymore. I knew I hadn’t spent much time with Sarah, but since the moment I had asked her to get a drink, she was always smiling in my presence. She smiled right up until Amy had that little chat with her in the bathroom of the diner. Now, not only was she not smiling, but she was also hurting, and that wasn’t something I could stand.
She didn’t flinch, even when we were close enough that our chests could touch. With my chin down and hers up, our noses were only a breath apart. I liked the tough exterior she had. She wanted so badly to believe that she wasn’t vulnerable, that she was invincible. I knew differently, though. There was a soft side to her, and I wanted to be the man to make her feel safe enough to let her guard down.
“Sarah, how’d your brother find out?”
Her cheeks puffed up as she let out a deep breath. “Jameson texted me while I was in Alabama.”
I straightened my back as I felt the anger surge through my body. The bastard wasn’t leaving her alone. It was clear Sarah wasn’t going to tell me more by the way she was currently walking away, but maybe if her brother realized we were on the same side, he would share more. I quickly caught up to her and followed her into the building.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to talk to your brother.”
“That’s not necessary.” She blocked the stairs like a security guard, if security guards had the body of a porn star. “I gave the information to the assistant district attorney assigned to my case. Jameson was angry about the restraining order. I haven’t heard from him since. You don’t need to talk to my brother about it.”