When She Least Expected It

by Jeanette Lynn

  People were laughing as they walked by, listening to our constant banter, bickering back and forth, shaking their heads at our antics.

  "Auntie Bit! Auntie Bit! I wanna dunk Willy!" Jeremy said excitedly, Rita waddling up behind him, Toby and Josiah bringing up the rear.

  The little man put ten dollars on the table and walked up to the area to pick up a ball and aim for the dunk target.

  "Come on, Jeremy!" Will taunted. "Dunk me! I dare ya!"

  Jeremy grinned and took aim. The ball flew but fell short, missing it by a mile.

  "That's okay, bud!" Rita called. "Try again, sweetie."

  Everyone called out to Jeremy supportively, cheering him on.

  He threw two more and missed, stepping back, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

  "Give him three more, Bit," Will called out to me, hopping into the water to swim to the edge, handing me a soggy ten dollar bill from his pocket.

  I walked over to get it and he grabbed my arm, tugging me close. Taking my face in his wet hands, planting a deep one on me, he kissed me thoroughly, pulling away when Toby and the boys started making gagging noises and Rita started cat calling.

  His eyes bright with happiness, he grinned at me and winked, turning to climb back up the small ladder and hop back onto the platform. "Come on, Jer! Dunk me!" he yelled, grinning at little Jeremy encouragingly.

  Will spread his arms out wide and shouted helpful tips, making a big production of it when Jer hit the target and dunked him.

  "Wanna dunk me, Josiah?" Will called, motioning for Josiah to come try.

  Josiah shook his head and walked over to the tank, lifting his arms for Will to pick him up.

  "What's up, Jo?" Will asked, swimming over and looking down at him from over the lip of the rim of the tank.

  "I want to yell at people and holler at Auntie Bit, too!" he said excitedly, getting a laugh out of everyone.

  Needless to say, our booth made the most money.

  Have I Got News For You

  Three months later

  "Will? Where are you? I have something I want to talk to you about!" I hollered, clutching the invitations for my next opening.

  I'd tried to broach the subject before, but it had never seemed like the right time. That, or I'd chickened out. I'm a wienie, I knew. Oh, how well I knew.

  With my next art show less than a month and a half away, it was now or never.

  Poking my head around every room, coming up empty, I couldn't find him anywhere in the house, and his truck wasn't out front. Must still be at work.

  That’s fine, I thought, I can just start on dinner and- I smiled suddenly, glancing towards the front door as the sound of Will's truck pulling up a few minutes later reached my ears. Walking to the window to watch him, I spied his engine cutting off, and then he was hopping out, practically running for the front door. He seemed excited, which was perfect. It meant he’d be in a receptive mood.

  "Bit!" he called, rushing up the steps as I opened the front door, towards me excitedly. Picking me up when he reached me, he twirled me around the room.

  Giggling at his exuberance, I moaned into his mouth as he kissed me feverishly, whimpering a protest when he pulled away just when things were just starting to get good.

  "Mmmm.” I wanted to purr. “What's got you all fired up?" My lips tipped up until I was smiling like a loon against his smiling lips.

  "You're never going to believe what happened," he told me, his hazel eyes bright.

  "What?" I asked, taken in by his excitement.

  Will set me down, following me into the kitchen so I could start making dinner, knowing that was what I’d intended, glancing at from over my shoulder, motioning that he should follow.

  "You know how my dad and I have been talking again lately?" he began, waiting for me to answer.

  "Yeah," I said slowly, with a short nod. Taking the meat out of the fridge to set it on the counter, then the pan off the hook over the stove to set it on the burner, I stopped to look at him.

  "My dad came by my office today and said he wanted to talk."

  "Oh?" I paused, about to make for the pasta sauce in the cupboard, freezing on the spot.

  "Yeah, he said he wants me to come back and work for him again!" he burst out happily.

  Spinning around to face him fully, I gripped the countertop behind me, swallowing hard, trying not to panic. "What did you tell him?" I asked quietly.

  "What do you mean, what did I tell him?” He gave an exuberant whoop. “I said yes!"

  My stomach dropped, filling with dread. “Will...” Closing the distance between us, I walked to him, wrapping my arms tight around his middle, and buried my face in his chest, trying to calm down my stampeding heart as it tried to pound out of my chest.

  "You just said yes, just like that?" I asked, pulling away to stare up at him.

  "Well, yeah.” His smile fell fractionally. “I can't turn down an opportunity like that, Bit. It would be crazy!"

  "Are you going to drive into the city every day?" Taking a deep breath, I held it, dreading the answer.

  "We won't have to,” he said slowly, his smile continuing to slip. “We can move into my old condo, it's huge. You can turn one of the spare rooms into an art studio. It-"

  "I don't want to move, Will," I told him calmly, cutting in. "I like my house.” And us in it, I tacked on silently. “And you don't have to move, either. We've been doing great without your dad's help so far. Why change it up now? Don't you want to keep doing things on your own?"

  "Bit...” Will looked shocked, like he’d expected me to be jumping for joy at the idea of him being back in his parents’ pocket. “What are you saying? I can't turn down a chance like this! I could have my life back.” Taking my shoulders in his hands, he gave them a meaningful squeeze. “I could have everything I've ever wanted! You could, too."

  Only, I couldn’t. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I shook my head, gently sloughing his hands off, and backed away from him. "I already have everything I've ever wanted, right here, with you," I argued softly but determinedly, making my stance on this whole thing clear.

  Will was flabbergasted, flat out dumbfounded. "You can't be serious? Bit... we could be rich."

  Until a few moments ago, I kinda already felt like I was, just not with a boatload of greenbacks. "Money isn't everything, Will. I'm happy just the way things are. I thought you were, too." How did I explain this to him if he didn’t, wouldn’t, maybe couldn’t see? I couldn’t. My arms wrapping around myself, I held myself back, watching him intently.

  "We wouldn't ever have to worry about money, Bit. We could have more than we know what to do with," he said soothingly, and made to step towards me. My hands shot out, holding him off.

  "I make good money from selling my art work, and there's more than enough in the bank that we don't need to worry now. Heck, you don't even have to go back to work at all, for all I care. But you can't ask me to just move away from everything I've ever known, everything I hold dear. This is my home, Will."

  "Everything, really? Then what the hell am I to you?" he demanded, hackles raised.

  "I meant you, too! We're building a life here together. I love you and I love it here. I'm happy! I really, truly thought you were, too... Don't throw it all away on the promise of more money, Will. Money really isn't everything, and I truly have more than enough. Really."

  "I don't think you understand, Bit. This is a lot of money. I know you feel that your art work draws a lot of money, and I'm not saying you don't make a nice tidy sum from it, but this is the big bucks, not a few hundred extra a month," he said, trying to reason with me.

  Hah, if only he knew. I scoffed at him. He doesn’t believe me, I thought, feeling more than hurt, his placating tone just setting me off even more.

  "Are you saying I'm too stupid to tell the difference between a few thousand dollars and a couple hundred thousand? I'm not an idiot, Will, and I'm not moving anywhere!" I countered, my voice rising with my ire.
/>   His expression pulling into a deep scowl, his hands fisted at his sides, but he didn't interrupt me.

  "This is my house, these people are my friends. They're my family, Will. I want to see my nephews grow up and be an active part of their lives... When my parents died and left Toby and me all alone, with no one but our grandmother, who didn't really want us anyway, these people took us in and made us feel welcome, made us feel like we belonged. I love them, too. Will, they've always been there for me. Do you understand what you're asking of me?" I pleaded, trying to find understanding somewhere in his expression.

  "I already told him I would. Are you saying you won't come with me?" he asked angrily.

  Well if that didn’t feel like a jab to the gut. "Will... are you saying you're going with or without me?"

  Will ground his teeth together, just standing there, staring down at me. Throat clogging with emotion, eyes burning, I simply stared back. He didn't say anything for the longest time.

  Jaw clenching, his eyes closed and he took a few deep breaths, opening them back up when he seemed to calm down. "This isn't my home, Bit. You're asking me to stay here and pass up everything I've ever wanted. This is an awesome opportunity. This is what I want, what I've always wanted. I can't pass it up. Don't you understand? I've always known I would go back some day, I've said that from the beginning."

  "I understand perfectly," I whispered, my arms banding around my middle so tight my ribs ached.

  "You didn't really think I was going to want to stay here forever, did you?”

  When it looked like my face might crumple at any moment, and I might actually freaking cry, his voice softened, along with his expression.

  “Bit... we could have everything. Say you'll come with me." He took a step towards me, holding his hand out to me.

  "I'll always love you, Will," I told him honestly, staring him directly in the eyes as I took a huge step back, "you know that, but I can't ask you to stay here if your heart’s not really in it, and you can't ask me to pretend to be something that I'm not. I don't need tons of money and fancy clothes and cars to be happy. If you'd just think about it a minute, you'd realize you don't, either."

  "So that's it, then?" he said grimly.

  "If those are my only options, then yes. Yeah, I guess it is," I whispered, resigned, tears prickling the backs of my eyes.

  Fiddling with the hem of his shirt, Will cleared his throat a few times and managed to get out stiffly, "Then I wish you well, Bit, and I, uh... I, uh... I gotta go. I have to pack my shit."

  Turning his back on me and everything we’d come to have here, he hurried out the door, slamming it hard behind him, not bothering to look back once as I watched him go. Standing by the window, I watched as he stomped to his house, slamming that door shut behind him.

  I watched from my living room window, clutching at the windowsill, as he left later that night, loading a couple of things into the back of his truck, hopping in and taking off, his tail lights fading into the distance as he took off for his old life; leaving me and my house, filled with reminders of him, behind. Leaving us behind.

  A sob escaping me, I let the tears fall then, silently sliding down my cheeks as I stared off in the direction he'd just left.

  I wondered if he realized he’d forgotten to give something back before he left. Can you even get your heart back once you've truly given it away?

  ****

  Does It Really Matter Anymore?

  Four weeks later

  "Is this seat taken?" Elliot asked as he came up behind me.

  Staring off straight ahead, glancing over the lake, I shrugged.

  "How've you been?" he asked, settling himself beside me, his feet slipping into the water.

  The action just reminded me of the first time Will and I sat on the dock together and shared peanut butter cups. What the hell am I saying? Everything reminds me of Will and it's driving me insane!

  Nowhere is safe, either. My house is full of constant reminders. The pillow he used to use still smelled like him, and all of his shit was still at my house. It was torture.

  I should just throw it all away, I thought acidly, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  You're getting bitter, Tabs, I scolded myself. And to top it all off, home just doesn't feel like... home anymore.

  "Maybe I should just move," I muttered out loud. Why not, what else do I have to lose?

  "You're movin', Bit?" Elliot asked, overhearing the gist of my mutterings.

  "I've been thinking about it..." I trailed off, figuring I might as well do something other than moping around feeling sorry for myself for the rest of my life.

  One place is as good as the next, isn't it? And if I kept myself close enough to my old house, I could still come and see everyone all the time. I just wouldn’t have to be surrounded by memories of him. Just thinking about him, even now, made my chest ache something horrible.

  "I heard Mrs. C does realty on the side now, got her license last year and everything."

  "Mmmm," I murmured noncommittally, contemplating the idea.

  "Bit?"

  "Yeah, Elliot?" Realizing he was staring down at me expectantly, I snapped out of it, glancing over at him.

  "For what it's worth, I really am sorry things didn't work out for you,” he said sincerely, sadness and worry filling his eyes. I could handle sadness and worry, just not pity.

  "Thanks." I inclined my head towards him, quickly looking away again. My hands tightened on my fishing pole. The way I was feeling, I wanted to break the thing in half and toss it into the water.

  "If he can't see how awesome you are, then he doesn't deserve you."

  "It wasn't me he had a problem with. I wouldn't go live with him in his hoity toity life, and he didn't want to live in mine," I admitted "So both of us are to blame really."

  I'm an idiot. Will's an idiot. We're all idiots! Hooray!

  "I really need to get out more... I'm even beginning to annoy myself!"

  "Huh?" Elliot blurted, more than confused.

  "Nothin'. Hey, I'll catch ya later, Elliot,” I said as I stood, pulling my line in. “I still have to get my things together for the art show and I have to leave early in the morning."

  "Jackson said you don't have to leave to help set up. She says she can handle it if you don't want to head out early."

  I frowned at that, but kept packing everything up. "Your cousin has a big mouth, and there's no way in hell I'm leaving her in charge of anything." I shuddered. "She'd probably insist they paint the room fuchsia or some other such nonsense."

  Elliot chuckled, glancing up from his seat at the edge of the dock, and shook his head at me. "Then why did you hire her?"

  "She's good at everything else she does, just not that." My features pinched yet again in a grimace.

  "Gotcha,” he said on a chuckle. “Well, I'll see ya later then and, not that you need it or anything, but good luck!"

  "See ya, Elliot," I called back, and with my things now all packed up, took off for my house.

  ****

  Still muttering to myself, I set my things down on the front porch and walked quietly into the house. Tackle box, cooler, fishing pole, jacket, methodically, almost mechanically, I put everything away.

  Slowly, I went through the motions, making dinner, packing my bags for tomorrow, anything to keep me busy. Walking back toward the stairs with a drink in my hand, I paused and looked around my living room later that evening, wondering just what the hell I was going to do. It felt almost claustrophobic in this place anymore. Suddenly, it was like I couldn’t breathe.

  Will hasn't called or stopped by, or even looked back once since he'd left.

  "Just like you knew he would," I said out loud. "Because if he’d really cared at all he would have come back, right?" I asked my empty living room.

  You didn't go to him either, Tabs. At this point, I didn't even think I could. What if’s, when I’d even contemplated the idea, had assailed me. What if he's with someone else
now and I find him with her?

  My gut clenched at the thought.

  What if he acts like he doesn't even know me when his rich friends are around? No. I couldn't take the hurt a second time.

  Best to just leave things the way they are, miserable as they may be.

  Walking to the small end table, I picked up the phone, decision made, and called Mrs. Carolton.

  And The Show Must Go On...

  "The place looks fantastic!" Jackson gushed cheerfully, bouncing on the balls of her feet in her hot pink heels.

  That was our compromise—the hot pink heels.

  Jackson gets to wear the garish pink heels, and in exchange, I got to pick out the black—not crazy, eye blinding pink—fancy enough, dress she was currently bouncing around in.

  Even I drew the line at some things.

  She’s going to give me a migraine if she keeps bouncing around like that, I thought, maybe a smidge enviously at her exuberance. I wonder if this is what it looks like when a bunny’s on crack.

  "But I still say it would have looked awesome with a splash of color in the background. I was thinking a purplish pink!" Jackson called out excitedly, her hands spreading wide to encompass the space.

  Not bothering to hide my reaction, not with her, I snorted.

  Fuchsia is purplish pink, isn't it? Guess I wasn't too far off of my mark on that one.

  "Hey, Bit!" someone greeted.

  A fake smile at the ready, I turned around and was truly surprised to find Dean as he hobbled his way over to us through the quickly growing crowd on his crutches.

  "Hello, Dean," I greeted, giving him what I hoped was a friendly smile.

  "Who's your friend, Bit?" Jackson purred, treating Dean to a sultry smile.

  Dean, his eyes widening at Jackson’s come-hither looks, looked scared all of a sudden, and I just couldn't muster up enough oomph to laugh about it. Meh. Maybe later.