by Ashley Lyn
Crud Muffin
Parker
If there’s one place in a small town to get a feel for things and get the pulse of the city, it’s the local watering holes like Bailey’s Bar or the Greasy Spoon. So here I am, sitting on my stool at Thelma’s Plate.
Sipping my coffee, I listen to Bruce, Paul, and Walt debate their next group shopping trip. Walt is a recent transplant that the dastardly duo, that is Bruce and Paul, have taken under their proverbial wings. He moved here from Florida to get away from his crazy ex. He used to live in a retirement community, and some of the stories he tells you would make you think he used to live in a brothel. I’ve started calling his story times, Real Life of Sunny Hills Retirement Community. Walt could pass for Benjamin Button. His stooped over form tops out at five foot even, and that’s being generous. Bruce took him shopping, unfortunately, and he’s here in workout shorts that would probably fit a toddler, and a white T-shirt. Both Bruce and Paul are dressed identical, except for their shirts. Bruce is in an eyeball melting pink, and Paul is in neon green.
They might cause me endless headaches, but when I get old, I hope I’m just like them. They give zero fucks and live their golden years in bliss and happiness.
I start thinking about getting old. I try to picture an older Amy in one of those getups that Margo and Cleo are known for and I almost laugh. A tap on my shoulder has me turning my head to find Bruce, Walt, and Paul standing there.
“We have a question,” Bruce declares.
I swallow hard because you never know what’s going to come out of his mouth. The whole restaurant seems to get real quiet, and I curse.
“How bad did it hurt when you got your nipples pierced?” I choke on my coffee as the restaurant takes a collective gasp.
“What the fuck, Bruce. How did you even know that I—I mean, that I have them done?”
“I overheard Margo and Cleo talking to Ali on the phone when they were here earlier.”
“Bruce, seriously, I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“My wife likes to get rough sometimes. She pinches my nipples all the time, so I think they’re numb. I don’t believe it would hurt as bad as yours,” Bruce tells me while rubbing his nipples.
Walt slides onto the stool next to me, studying me with this oddly intense look. “You got your dick done too? Knew a guy back at Sunny Hills that had that done. All the old birds were giggling about it.”
Bruce’s eyes are so wide, it’s comical. “No, I don’t, and this conversation is over.”
Throwing down a twenty on the bar top, I head out and run across the street to my office. Unlocking the door, I hear the phone ring and run to grab it.
“Spartan Sheriff's Office, Parker speaking.”
“French cut or boy shorts?”
“What?”
“Parker, its Ali. Get with the game. I’m shopping with Amy and she stormed out when I started grabbing thongs and crotchless panties, so we compromised. I’m calling to ask French cut or boy shorts?”
I can hear Amy in the background. “Who is that? Ali, get off the phone! Steven, stop her!”
“Boy shorts, and if you can sneak in some thongs, I’ll pay you back.”
“SWEEET.”
Hanging up, I smile and get to work, checking emails and touching base with the residents I do regular welfare calls on.
Amy
I feel like crying, I'm so upset. What should have been a fun experience turned into a nightmare. Ali kept trying to get me into these tight, short, revealing outfits. I’m used to clothes that I got out of the church donation bin, or clothes that I made myself. If there’s one thing my mother drilled in my head, besides ‘ladies never cuss,’ is that ladies also do not show skin above the knees, or their breasts. Every dress and pair of shorts that Ali was grabbing were too short, and every shirt showed my boobs, causing me to have a mild freak out.
The clothes made me feel sexy in the dressing room, but paranoia and anxiety kept me in the room. I felt exposed and on display. I was so happy that Steven came with us because he’s excellent at reining Ali in. The clothes I came home with are pieces I can live with. They’re definitely not what I’m used to, but at least all the important parts are covered.
I thought I was going to stroke out when she took me to Fredrick’s. Steven gave her a look and pointed to Secrets, a lingerie store that was more my speed.
It’s dark, and my stomach’s growling something fierce, but I just can’t seem to work up the energy to make something to eat. Surrounded by bags, I lay down and close my eyes.
I picture my mother's stern face, dirty and worn, wearing secondhand clothes. My mom always reminded me of a queen or a princess. Her mannerisms and speech were so deliberate and precise. The values she drilled into me regularly once I hit puberty and started venturing into town were very fire and brimstone.
Ladies must never flaunt their bodies, or God will strike them down. Ladies do not think impure thoughts or they will go to hell and burn for eternity. I lived in fear that God was lurking around every tree.
When I was sixteen, I met Ali and Roger. They were so different. They were open and knew so much. I’m sad to say that we raised hell. I tried my first alcoholic drink with them, learned to drive, and got a more accurate sex talk from Ali since the one my mom attempted made no sense. After hanging out with them for a couple months, I went to town and spoke to the pastor's wife. Annabell Mclaren was my lifeline for many years, and after my mother passed, she was my rock. She graciously tried to explain that no, God isn’t lurking around every corner to punish me for every little thing. They’ve been gone on a missionary mission for years now. I miss her and her invaluable guidance.
In just one week, I have moved into a house, bought (somewhat) scandalous clothes, and sat astride a veritable sex god. This is too much change all at once and I feel like I’m drowning.
Getting up off the couch, I open the door and leave. I start walking, then running, like the hounds of hell are after me.
The panic attack I can feel coming on is blurring my vision. Rounding the corner, I blow past Ali’s place and up into the woods across from her.
I’m running like hell, jumping over trees and rocks, running up hills. The sweat is pouring off me in buckets. Stopping to get my bearings, I turn and head west. Before long, I find the tree marked with a cross and start the blistering path to my mother's grave.
Seeing the ramshackle cross marking her final resting place, I drop to my knees and give into sobbing. Every inch of my skin feels blistering and brittle. I know that Ali and Steven meant well, and Parker is everything I could want in a husband, but he’s pulling me through this too fast, and I feel like I’m being skinned alive.
All my life, everything about how I lived, what I wore and what I said was controlled and dictated by my parents. I made the decision to move to town and forge my path because the quiet of the mountain was suffocating me. The crippling loneliness was covering me in a lead blanket of depression.
Now I feel like the nice easy path that I took is being demolished by others. I have to stand firm in my resolve to stick to my path.
The quiet of the forest is interrupted by the sound of a lumbering bear. “Fucking hell, Amy. Where are you!”
Christ. He’s going to wake the dead.
“Parker, what are you doing out here? I need you leave!”
I see a flashlight and wince as the light hits my eyes. “Amy, I’m not leaving—not now, not ever.”
“Please, Parker, I just need a minute.”
He plops his big sexy butt right next to me and shines the light on Momma’s grave.
“Talk to me, beautiful. What’s going on in that busy brain of yours? I was at Ali’s when I saw you running down the road.”
“I just needed to calm down. Shopping was so…”
“Fun?”
“Frustrating and annoying. Ali was pushing all these clothes on me. I hate taking charity from people. It makes me feel weak. The clothes are j
ust too much—too tight, too revealing, too everything. Then I have you pushing for sex, and I can’t, Parker. I can’t just…I want this, whatever this is between us, but you have to understand that I need you to slow down. My whole life, every aspect was dictated by my parents to such extents that it makes me panic to think for myself. When I moved to town, I was ready to take that step to living my life the way I want to. But here’s you and Ali, and everyone else, jerking me around, trying to force your ways onto me. It’s just all too much too fast. I need everyone to back off.”
Parker picks up my hand and laces our fingers together. Bringing my hand up, he kisses my knuckles and takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry I pushed you. There’s no amount of apologizing or groveling I can do to make up for that, for making you feel that way. I want you to know that I’m in this for the long haul. I want to marry you, put babies in your belly, and grown old with you while I run around this town raising hell like Bruce does. We can take this as fast or as slow as you want. If you want to take back the clothes, I’ll go with you and help. So, let's talk specifics because I need to know your limits and expectations for this relationship. I never want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable or embarrassed.”
“No sex. Well, not right away, at least,” I blurt out.
“Can you be more specific? Oral pleasures? No penetration?”
I bury my face in my knees. I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with him next to my mother.
“Can we go home and talk about this? I feel weird talking about it with my mom right here.”
He looks at my mother’s cross with an uneasy expression. Standing up, he pulls me with him and we start walking back in a comfortable silence.
Walking inside the house, I wince when I see all the bags. Without saying a word, Parker kisses my forehead and begins going around, picking up the bags and placing them in the office.
I’m snuggled up on the couch when he comes back in with to-go containers. I burst into tears, feeling like a crazy person. He sits next to me and holds me until I stop crying.
Pulling away, he opens the food containers and hands me a fork. Looking down, I see he stopped at Dominga’s and picked up chili rellenos and tacos, which almost pulls more tears from my already exhausted eyes. Taking the first bite, I can’t help but moan a little. Damn, so good.
Taking my time, I gather my thoughts, wanting to answer his question from earlier. “No naked time for a bit. I’m not saying no to everything...” I trail off to clear my throat. “I just need some time to adjust to everything. The whole living in town, work, and all the other stuff. Just think about circa 1950 dating for a while, keeping it PG.”
His lips quirk, and I can’t help but smile back. “Just call me Wally Cleaver, then.”
Bumping his shoulder, I get back to my tacos. “What hours are you working tomorrow?” I ask. I have some errands to run, and originally, Roger was going to take me, but if Parker’s available, maybe he wouldn’t mind doing it.
“I’m working a double tomorrow. Tanner has to go pick up his daughter from her Mom for the summer. Why? What do you have going on tomorrow?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met Tanner.”
“He works part-time. He lives down in Madison and helps me out when I need a day or two off. His ex-wife is a piece of work and called him this afternoon, asking him if he wanted his daughter for the summer since she’s going on a cruise or something. Nice guy, just a bit sour right now because of their nasty divorce.”
I give him the side-eye and debate on telling him what I’m doing tomorrow.
“So? What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks.
Cringing, I mumble into my food. “I have to go get my driver’s license, and a copy of my social security card. Then open a bank account and stuff.”
“Driver’s license? You mean to tell me you stole my truck and you don’t even have a license?”
“Yes?” I look at him out of the corner of my eye.
He just smiles and shakes his head. “But you know how to drive? Like, have you studied for the test and stuff?”
“Ali taught me to drive after she got her license and gave me the study book. I read that book a hundred times. When I took it to my parents and asked them if I could get a driver’s license too, they both looked completely horrified. My dad burned the book and I never asked again.”
He gets up and starts throwing away the empties and cleaning off the table. “I gotta get going, babe. Text me tomorrow and let me know how the test goes.”
Reaching down, he pulls me off the couch and into his arms. Burying my nose in his neck, I can’t help but think of how amazing he smells. His arms are wrapped around me so tight, it feels like heaven. Looking up at him, I give him a gentle kiss and walk him to the door.
Getting ready for bed, I pull out the shirt he left in the dryer and grab the pillow he used last night and fall asleep, surrounded by my future.
Fartknocker
Amy
What a long freaking day. The DMV was a nightmare of epic proportions. They were running behind, and it was packed with so many stressed out people, you could have cut the BO with a knife.
I’m so excited to have a driver’s license, I want to frame it. I also got my social security card and opened a bank account.
With all my accomplishments today, I feel like I deserve a reward. Heading into the kitchen, I pull out all the ingredients I need to make chocolate chip cookie dough. Throwing everything in the bowl and mixing it up, I dump it right into a Tupperware container and dive in with a spoon. Egg free cookie dough is the ultimate in comfort food.
I’m settled into the couch in Parker's shirt and a comfortable pair of lounge pants I bought with Ali when my doorbell rings. Putting my cookie dough on the table, I get up and open the door. I’m momentarily caught off-guard by the sheer amount of pink spandex when it registers that Bruce is at my door.
He goes in for a hug, but I don’t know where to put my hands, so I pat his back and try hard to control my gag. His hairy back is so sweaty, it feels slimy. I pull back, trying to figure out what to do with my wet hand.
“Hey, Amy girl!”
“Hey, Bruce.” I heave a big sigh and wipe my hand on my pants as I take in his full outfit. The tight pink spandex workout pants are blinding. He has on (thank God) a long tank top that says, I don’t sweat, I sparkle, and I can’t help but giggle.
“I like your shirt.”
He grins and puts his hands on his hips, proud as a peacock, then cocks his hip and gives me a supermodel walk. “I bought it online. The boys and I are going to get into shape. I just got done at the gym.” I laugh out loud because he’s still posing.
“Something I can help you with, Bruce?”
“Nope, but I think there’s something I can help you with.” He winks at me and tells me to close my eyes as he leads me outside.
“Okay, Amy girl. You can open now.”
Bruce is leaning against an older model Toyota Camry, and I look at him in confusion.
“Heard you got your driver’s license today, and my wife and I bought this car for our daughter years ago. We don’t drive it, and I figured you might have more of a use for it than us.” I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off with a genuine smile. “Tell you what. Because I can see you getting sassy, you can borrow it for now. When you can, you can start making payments on it. Let's say five hundred total for the car. You just give me what you can whenever you can, and we’ll call it even.”
I don’t even care if I get covered in Bruce’s sparkle. I hug him hard. Pulling back, he smiles at me with tears in his eyes. I give him a questioning look.
“My daughter passed away a couple years ago from breast cancer. She was everything to me and my wife. Never thought I would outlive my kids, but I’m very happy that I can give her car to someone who deserves it. I know living out there like your folks did was hard, and if I can help you with anything else, you just give me a call. The boys and I
will be here lickety split.”
Hugging him again, I step back and he hands me the keys. “Now, Amy girl, go get ready. There’s a little get-together down at Bailey’s tonight in your honor.”
Paul pulls up on his scooter in a matching outfit to Bruce’s pink number, except his is green. Shaking my head, I laugh at the two of them squished on the tiny scooter.
I practically run inside to jump in the shower, ready to head to Bailey’s.
Parker
I’m taking a bit of a break at the office, so I pull up my Pinterest search I’d started before I left. I’m planning my date night with Amy for this coming Saturday. I enlisted the help of Steven. He told me to check out Pinterest and get an idea of what I wanted, and he would help me pull it all together.
I setup a date board, and I think I have most of it planned out. I just need to figure out a gift. I’m thinking a necklace of some kind, but I just don’t know what kind to get her. She isn’t the type to wear something large and chunky. I run my hand through my hair in frustration, and keep scrolling when the perfect necklace comes up.
It is a delicate, single gold bar on a chain, and stamped in the middle is BE STRONG. Clicking on the picture, it takes me to the retailer’s site. I order it online and choose to have it expedited and delivered by Thursday.
Going back to the main Pinterest board, I’m about to send the board to Steven when the front door opens. Paul and Bruce practically skip into my office in two of the brightest outfits I have ever seen.
“Gentleman, what can I help you with?” My lips twitch when Bruce cocks a hip, and Paul mirrors him.
“Thought we’d come by and let you know that your girl will be at Bailey's tonight. We’re having a party to celebrate her being in town, and on account of her getting her driver’s license today, and all the birthdays we missed. So, you might want to pick up a gift and swing by and kiss her.”