Indecision

by Brittany Fuller

  “Behave.” I laugh as I hug him and follow after her.

  I take a drink and let the warmness of the alcohol mix with the bass coming from the music. I slowly feel some tension leave my shoulders as we make our way to a corner not far from the bar. I see Gwen locking eyes with a stranger and watch as she flashes him her “I’m available” smile. My phone vibrates in my clutch, and I pull it out to see I have a new text from Noah.

  Noah: I wasn’t kidding when I said you know how to drive a man crazy. Dinner Friday can’t come soon enough.

  Doing my best juggling act, I try and balance my drink in my arm so I can type a reply. I pause for a moment because I have no idea how to come back with any kind of witty “I want you too, but I still want to make you chase me” kind of response.

  Me: Are you sure dinner with me is the answer to your madness?

  I smile as I notice he reads it right away and can see that he is typing a response. Taking another sip of my drink, I look up as Gwen’s stranger makes his way over to us. I smile at him as he starts to talk to her, and I focus my attention back on my phone.

  Noah: Baby, at this point I don’t care if they lock me up as long as I get my fix before they take me away. Your pull on me is habit-forming. An increasing addiction I have no plan on breaking.

  I giggle a little too loud, which gets Gwen’s attention. She rolls her eyes and goes back to her conversation. Switching gears, butterflies start to rise in my belly as I type my response.

  Me: I get off work at 5.

  Noah: Pick you up at 6. Dress casual.

  Me: Can’t wait.

  Noah: Likewise. See you then.

  Putting away my phone, I see Gwen take a few steps back from the guy she had been chatting up, annoyed. Quick to notice when to step in, I grab her hand.

  “I love this song,” I exclaim about the music that I have never heard before in my life. “Let’s dance. Sorry, buddy,” I yell as I pull her onto the dance floor, and we make sure to push our way further into the middle and away from the guy who’s quickly approaching creeper status.

  “Thank you,” I hear her say behind me.

  Turning around to face her, I smile. We finish off our drinks so as not to spill, and hold the empty glasses while we laugh and dance for a few songs. Maybe I will get out of here as planned, but for right now, it’s nice to let the world go and dance with my best friend—a girl that knows me better than any sister ever could.

  Noah

  Getting ready to pick up Evelyn, I hadn’t thought I would be as nervous as I am. Grabbing the items I planned to take with me, I take one last look at myself in the mirror and try to get ahold of the emotions I’m feeling.

  “Get a grip, Stewart,” I say out loud. “It’s just a date.”

  Then why do I feel like it’s so much more, I silently plea with myself. Shaking my head and shutting the thought down, I head out the door and towards my truck. The sun set a little while back and the weather has turned much colder than I expected as December begins setting in. Backing out of the driveway, I try my best to suppress things—and people—I haven’t thought about in a very long time as I make my way out to the main road.

  Turning on the heater in the truck, the anticipation to see Evelyn grows almost unbearable. A familiar tune on the radio fills the cab, reminding me of another time I allowed myself to feel the same way about a woman—a woman I forced myself to forget a long time ago and swore I would never let myself think about again.

  Becky.

  Rebecca Brown to be exact. It was my senior year of high school and she had caught my eye faster than any girl I had yet to meet before, much like Evelyn. I debated long and hard before asking her out, seeing as she was only a junior, a year younger than myself, and I had already accepted a scholarship at Ole Miss—a full ride, playing baseball for the Rebels. Having lived with less rather than more, growing up on the family tobacco farm and working the grounds as soon as I was able, I knew passing up an opportunity like that would kill any chance at building a better future for myself.

  The more I allowed myself to think about her though, the more I began to cave, and the harder I began to fall after our first date. She was addictive as well, just like the woman I’m headed to see tonight. Only Evelyn I can’t seem to get enough of and know I never will no matter how hard I try.

  Becky’s family came from old southern money. She looked and even smelled like the kinds of things I could never obtain in life, and boy did her parents let me know it.

  Looking back, I have come to accept that was the only reason Becky probably even wanted to be with me—rebellion against her prim and proper life. I remained blind to all the reasons and stayed love struck like a fool all the way to the end. And what an end it was.

  I ignored the reasoning of friends saying it could never work, even when I traveled back and forth the first two years of college, before eventually finding a way to take classes online because the distance was too hard for her. I even took a job with her father’s company to prove I could fit into her world. Balancing online courses and a new career was hard, and it has made graduating college take a little longer than it should, but it was worth it. Or at least I thought it was.

  Becky’s father came from a long line of upper-class men that had built somewhat of an insurance and bonds empire in the south. Trading in my usual duds for a three-piece suit and tie, I tried my best to show her and her father that I could provide for her. That I could and would fit into a world I knew nothing about and prove them wrong. I believed I could and would be the man she deserved.

  I even continued to ignore the feeling in my gut when she showed up in tears, swearing she was pregnant, even though we hadn’t slept together in over a month because I had been out of town on business. I was planning on proposing anyway, but popped the question that night and wasn’t surprised when she said yes. With a baby on the way, there was no way she would shame her family name. I made myself believe that in some way giving up everything for her, because of how much I loved her, would make everything ok. It would always be enough because the love I thought we shared would always be there. She was all I ever wanted. And I believed as long as I always showed her that, then we couldn’t fail.

  It was the tears that she cried when I walked in to find her having sex with her father’s partner, a younger man only about ten years older than the both of us, that finally broke the spell she had on me. It was also the tears she cried over how he was a mistake she promised to never make again that slammed the door shut for me, never wanting to allow another woman in.

  When I found out the truth that it was her father’s partner’s baby and she had told me it was mine because she knew the bastard would never leave his wife to make an honest woman out of her, I was already long gone. Having packed my bags and changed my number, heading out west to live with Rex.

  Feeling the way I do for Evelyn is exactly what got me into trouble the first time. It’s what had me giving up a life for someone who didn’t love me the same and lied about everything I thought was true between us. It is exactly why I don’t want to have the feelings I have been trying to fight since I first met her ten days ago. Maybe cutting things off now would be a good idea. After all, I’m still going home in six weeks. I don’t belong here, and I’m not about to change myself and my life on the chance that what we’re building could and would be all we’ll ever need. I’ve been burned that way before, and I am not about to make the same mistake again.

  But this time, as I think about leaving, there’s a nagging feeling in my gut. The thought of not being near her makes me feel sick—homesick almost, knowing that a part of me may always be missing. That part of me that feels whole when I am with her. A part of me I surprisingly never realized I was missing before.

  Pulling up to a stop in front of her house, I notice there is no light coming from the windows in her part of the building. Maybe I should just leave, text her some lame excuse that I am sure she will never buy, and call it a night. Maybe go d
rink some beers with Rex and try and forget about her before I am in over my head. More panic hits as I realize I think I already am.

  Grabbing my phone, I begin tapping my finger against the screen a few times, thinking. Maybe distance from her is a good thing. I promised myself I would never let a woman take control of my life or my feelings again after Becky. Walking away now could possibly save me a lot in the long run. If I walk away now, it will make it easier when I leave at the beginning of the new year.

  Then why does my heart sink just thinking about leaving? And why am I, after everything I’ve promised myself, suddenly debating not moving home at all? The thought startles me and I shove it away as fast as it sprang up.

  Moments away from typing out a text message, I jump to the sound of someone tapping on the window. It’s Evelyn, bundled up in a coat, scarf and beanie. Her cheeks are rosy from the chilly night air. She looks beautiful standing there, smiling, and it takes a moment before I come to my senses. Opening the door, I step into the freezing night air alongside her.

  “You have to be chilled to the bone! How long have you been out here?” I ask, grabbing both her arms and rubbing them up and down, a sorry attempt at trying to warm her.

  “Just walked out,” she answers, bouncing up and down to keep warm. She bounces in a way that’s so adorably attractive, I can’t help but grin as I reach out and pull her closer to help warm her more.

  “I was watching from the window,” she confesses as I feel her warm breath against my shirt. “What were you thinking about, sitting in your truck so long?”

  Pulling her back and looking her in the eyes, I smile before lying. “Football.”

  Her eyebrows knit together, clearly expecting a different response. “Football?” she questions back.

  “Uh huh! Titans lost their last game. I need to make some adjustments to my fantasy league.” I’m such a bad liar. Hardly ever having watched much football—baseball is more my sport—I hope she doesn’t catch on. She shrugs like she couldn’t care less, and I smile knowing that I’m in the clear.

  “Come on,” I say, pulling her in closer and kissing the tip of her pink nose. “We’re wasting moonlight.”

  I look down into her big blue eyes and start to feel her winning the war that’s ragging inside me. Pulling away, I immediately feel cold without her near me and walk her around the side of the truck, opening up her door and helping her climb in. Settling into the driver’s seat, I put the car in drive and turn to face her, noticing she is already watching me, anticipating me telling her where we are headed. I stay silent and watch her start to squirm as I know the many ideas of where we might be headed have to be dancing around in her head.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asks.

  “I want to show you something,” I say. “Tonight’s just for us. No bar, no party, no outside friends for distractions,” I joke, and she giggles knowingly. Pulling away from her house, we settle into a comfortable silence as a Luke Bryan song quietly plays in the background and my thoughts invade again.

  Her eyes sure did seem to sparkle in pure excitement over the idea. Maybe she wants to be alone with me as much as I need to be alone with her. All I’ve wanted since I set eyes on her is to have her all to myself, but allowing that to happen means I’m slowly allowing her in. Being near her makes me question my future. Makes me want to rearrange everything just to allow room for her to stay, even if it’s just for as long as she will want to.

  I have spent so much time strategically putting up walls so as never to let any woman have the smallest amount of control over me. I still have no idea as to why I am hopelessly allowing her to break holes into those walls I never intended to let anyone in again. As we merge onto the highway, I crack the window for a little fresh air as anxiety starts to build inside me.

  “So,” I hear her say, bringing my thoughts back to the present. “Since you won’t tell me where we are going, let’s play a game.”

  “A game.” I laugh. “What kind of game can we play right now in the cab of my truck?”

  She adjusts in her seat so she is sitting somewhat Indian-style, facing me. I glance over at her and see her smile at me mischievously. This might not be good.

  “Well, I could think of a few things actually, but first …” she trails off, laughing. “I ask you a question and you have to answer with the first thing that comes to mind,” she says. “Then you get to ask me and I have to answer. Then again and again, vice versa, you know. That way we get to know more about one another than just the way it feels to be pressed up against each other.”

  “But pressed up against you is my favorite place to be,” I tease, resting my hand on her thigh, my tension finally slowly leaving.

  I look over and see her roll her eyes as she smiles and swats at me playfully. I grab her hand and hold it, smiling back at her while I drive. I notice her cheeks blush and more tension seems to lift as I realize I needed this. I needed her, and there is no other place I would rather be in the world right now.

  “Come on,” she says. “It will be fun.”

  “Ok, who goes first?”

  “I do,” she exclaims, excited, and sits up a little straighter. I laugh at her enthusiasm as I glance at her again and see she is in deep thought, making me laugh harder. She gives me a playfully hateful glare, and I can’t help but snicker at her.

  “Stop it. I am trying to think … Ok, I got it,” she says after a moment. “What is your favorite color?”

  “Orange.” I smile and pull her hand up to kiss the top of it, noticing her smile. “Although, I do love it when your cheeks turn that adorable shade of pink … like right now.”

  She looks down, embarrassed. “What’s your favorite food?” I ask.

  “Oh, that is easy,” she says. “Anything southern BBQ.”

  “Really?” I ask surprised. A girl after my own heart. “Well, I can definitely help you out with that, sweetheart.”

  “I bet you can.” She laughs. “What is your favorite hobby?”

  “I’m a southern boy, miss. I’ll let you guess that one. Shouldn’t be too hard,” I reply.

  “I’m not sure,” she says, thinking hard for a moment. “Maybe hunting?”

  “Good guess,” I say. “Throw in a little fishing and you got it darlin’.”

  “Well, I don’t know much about those things,” she says. “But I could learn.” Her eagerness to try something that I love makes me smile.

  “Your turn,” she says.

  “Hmm,” I say, trying to think about my next question for a moment. “What made you want to be a writer?”

  Smiling, she says, “That isn’t really a one word answer.” When I don’t respond, she continues, “I don’t know, really. It is just something that I have always done. When I was little, before I could ever really write, I would make these books with scribbles for words and pathetic stick figures for people. I would staple them together and be so proud of my little creation. Over time, it has just morphed into more. I love the catharsis I get reading something really well written, and I love the idea of being the one that could write that for someone else.”

  Speechless, I just look ahead at the road in front of me, not quite sure how to answer such honesty.

  “Good answer,” I finally manage.

  “So what about you, then? Have you always worked construction, or is it something you fell into?” she asks.

  Cringing a little inside at the thought of my past, I try my best to shrug it off as I reply, “I worked briefly in the nine to five suit and tie world…” I glance over her way “…wasn’t my thing.”

  “Gotcha,” she smiles.

  We talk more, trying our best to dig into each other’s nooks and crannies without prying too much. This being our first date, it’s never too polite to dig deep into someone’s closet.

  I find out her favorite color is blue, favorite holiday is Christmas, she never watches scary movies, and just the smell of green beans makes her want to vomit. I admit to having a guilty
pleasure now and again to a good romantic comedy, and she’s shocked to find out that I’ve never gone swimming in the ocean.

  I slow my truck as I reach the top of the hill. Looking at Evelyn, I see her eyes are wide in amazement. Backing up, I turn the truck around so we can sit on the tailgate and take in the breathtaking sight.

  The night sky is mostly clear and the stars are endless above. In the distance, clouds roll over far away hilltops and lightning can be seen as a thunder shower approaches. Below is a valley with just the slightest twinkling of lights from a few houses.

  I grin as I put the truck in park and kill the engine.

  “Want to sit on the tailgate?” I ask. She nods, unable to speak as she looks out the back window of the truck.

  I jump from the truck and run over to her door. Opening it, I help her down and grab a backpack from the backseat. Setting the backpack down, I lift her up onto the tailgate of my truck. Running back to the cab, I grab the two blankets I had stowed away as well and quickly return wrapping one around her to keep her warm.

  “This sure goes down as one unforgettable surprise,” she says as I hop up on the tailgate to join her.

  Shrugging, I let a few moments pass before I answer her. “I’m trying to make it hard for anyone to follow in my footsteps, is it working?” I ask.

  “Oh, so you don’t want someone else to come and sweep me off my feet, is that it?” she nervously asks looking out in the distance.

  “Not if I can help it,” I confess, shocking both me and her. With no idea where to go from there, I begin opening the backpack I brought with me.

  “Seeing as I had no idea that your favorite food was my home state’s staple, I did the best I could when I packed us dinner.”

  “You packed dinner,” she asks, shocked.

  “I made a promise to feed you, didn’t I?” I say with a smile. “Now pickin’s are slim when it comes to what will keep and pack away easily, so I did the best I could.”