by Debby Mayne
39
Tim
As promised, I’m the first person to arrive at the bonfire location. Pete’s cousin knew someone who worked with someone else who had a connection who said his farm was available. I expected to see a farmhouse and a barn, but when I got here to build the fire pit, I realized all we had was a chunk of hilly land with a few trees and nothin’ else. Not even an outhouse . . . and that can be a problem when you got a bunch of folks eatin’ and drinkin’. So I called Laura who called around and found someone to bring portable potties. Now they’re here, about ten feet from the fire pit.
I call Laura again. “Whatcha want, Tim?” Her testy tone throws me a curve.
“Can you call them potty folks and tell them I need ’em to come back?”
She grunts and pauses. “They said they delivered ’em.”
“They did, but they’re too close to the fire pit.”
“What do you want from me, Tim?”
I’d like to ask her the same question, but I’m not about to with her in this kinda mood. “All I want you to do is ask them folks to come move the potties.”
“Why can’t you just move the fire pit?”
“ ’Cause there’s trees ever’where, and we can’t have the fire too close to the trees.”
She grunts again. And then she don’t say nothin’.
“Laura, do you wanna give me their number, and I’ll call ’em?”
“No, I’ll do it. Just don’t go anywhere.”
“Call me back and let me know what they say, okay?”
She hangs up on me without givin’ me an answer. If anyone else did that, I’d be hoppin’ mad, but I know that’s just how Laura deals with stress, and I’ve learned that organizin’ a class reunion is about the most stressful thing a person can do.
I’m not about to light the fire ’til the potties are moved, so I walk on over to my car, open the door, and sit down sideways on the seat, my legs stretched out. This farm is peaceful—the kinda place I might like to have for my own one of these days. I lean back and fold my hands behind my head to ponder what life might be like years from now. Until the last Piney Point reunion, I imagined I’d be with Priscilla, but now that I think about it, that was nothin’ but a pipe dream. What would a woman like her ever see in a man like me? Don’t get me wrong. I know she likes me . . . and maybe even loves me in her own way, but not how a woman would love a man she would wanna marry.
I hear the sound of a vehicle approachin’, so I hop up with the hope it’s the potty folks. But it’s not. It’s the catering van.
A middle-aged woman approaches, while a man goes around behind the van and opens the doors. “Where you want the tables?” the woman asks.
I originally thought the food should be where the potties are now, but even after they’re moved, that don’t seem right, so I point to the other side of the fire pit. “How’s about over there?”
“You got it.”
I start to help them, but the woman gives me a dirty look and says they’ll go faster without me, so I back off. “Just let me know if you need somethin’.”
“Any running water around here?”
I shake my head. “Not that I know of.”
They exchange a glance and continue about their business. I turn and stare in the direction of the highway, hopin’ to see the potty folks, but the next vehicle I see is Laura’s old minivan—same one she had five years ago.
She don’t waste a minute gettin’ out to look things over. “Why’d you have them set the food out over there?”
I look down at the five-foot-nothin’ woman who scares me more ’n anyone else ever has and take a step back. “It makes the most sense. Where would you have put it?”
Laura turns around, surveys the layout, and shakes her head. “The portable potties need to be moved.”
“I know. That’s why I called you.”
Without another word, she whips out her cell phone, punches in a number, and immediately starts ragin’ to some unfortunate person on the other end of the line. With an exaggerated motion, she punches the phone off, plants her fists on her hips, and announces, “You stay here and wait for ’em, while I go see about the music. Zeke and the Geeks were s’posed to be here already.”
I wonder why she hired them again, but I’m not about to say nothin’ for fear of her wrath smackin’ me in the face. “Would you like me to have the food tables moved?”
“Where else ya gonna put ’em with the potties right there?”
That’s exactly what I was sayin’. I just shrug and don’t say a word.
Laura lifts her hand to shield her eyes from the settin’ sun as she looks toward the highway. “I hafta get back home, so ya think you can hang out here for a while?”
I nod. “I’m here all night if you need me.”
“Okay, good.” She don’t say another word as she takes off toward her minivan and zooms away in a cloud of dust. I reckon that must mean she trusts me to take care of things.
She’s barely gone when Zeke arrives, without the Geeks. He parks next to my rental car, jumps out of his truck, and heads straight over to me. “Hey, my band was s’posed to be here already.”
“I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
Zeke laughs and glances around. “You don’t know some of those dudes. They have to ask directions—” He scrunches his nose and turns to me. “Are those portable potties, right there by the fire pit?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“Weird.” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have put ’em there, but I guess you know what you’re doing.”
“I wouldn’t have put ’em there either, and that’s why I’m expectin’ the potty people to come move ’em.”
Zeke gives me a curious look and smiles. I chuckle, and within seconds me and him are both laughin’ real hard, lettin’ out some of the steam built by all the stress. And we don’t stop ’til we hear the sound of a truck makin’ its way over the bumpy grass.
“Oh, good. They’re here.”
Zeke lets out one more snort before leavin’ me to deal with the potty folks. He walks over toward the food tables, pulls out his cell phone, and starts punchin’ in some numbers.
The man gets outta the truck and walks straight toward me. “Ms. Moss says you wanna see us?”
“Yeah, we need those moved.”
He looks over his shoulders at the two aluminum structures. “What’s wrong with where we put ’em?”
I stare at him for a few seconds and decide not to explain nothin’. I mean, after all, if he can’t see for himself, he won’t understand nothin’ I say. “I just want ’em moved, okay?”
He shrugs. “Sure thang. Where you want ’em?”
I point toward some trees. “How ’bout over yonder by them pine trees?”
“Okie doke. Will do.”
Good thing the potty folks came when they did ’cause folks start arrivin’ to help light the fire and finish settin’ up minutes after they’re gone. Some security guys man their posts between the designated parking area and the bonfire pit. For the next hour and a half, I’m directin’ parkin’ and tellin’ people where to put stuff. The rest of Zeke’s band finally arrives, and they get all their equipment set up. I’m relieved they knew enough to bring a generator. Too bad they don’t sound no better than they did last time I heard ’em. A couple of the band members have changed, but I can’t tell the difference.
No one tells me when Priscilla arrives, but everyone gets real quiet and turns to look at her as she slams the car door shut and struts toward us. Jimmy and Celeste take a little more time gettin’ outta the car.
Priscilla’s wearin’ a pair of skin-tight jeans, a pink tank top, and some sneakers. Even from a distance, I can tell she looks more refined in her casual get-up than any of the rest of these folks prob’ly look on Sunday mornin’.
I’m on my way to greet Priscilla when Celeste darts past me. “I gotta get to the potty and fast,” she says. “Why’d you have ’em put them things all the way ov
er there?”
“Sorry.”
Jimmy comes up from behind. “Ever since my wife found out she’s pregnant she spends half her time runnin’ to the bathroom.”
“Oh.” I turn around toward Priscilla, who is less than two feet away from me, a smile playin’ on her pretty lips. I swallow hard. “Hey, there, Priscilla. You’re lookin’ mighty fine.”
“Thank you, Tim.” She glances around at the crowd. “Looks like the party is in full swing.”
“I reckon’ you could say that.”
She turns to Jimmy. “Pregnancy becomes Celeste. She practically glows.”
Jimmy puffs his chest up and gets one of them full-of-himself looks on his face. “My wife is the purtiest girl here.”
Priscilla smiles and pats him on the arm. “I agree.”
Trudy and some guy I never seen before walk up. “Hi, Tim . . . Priscilla . . . I’d like you to meet Darryl.”
I shake the guy’s hand and see the way he hangs on to Trudy with the other hand. Trudy looks around, actin’ all nervous. No doubt she’s lookin’ for Michael, who is here—alone. I heard one of the guys say Michael don’t like hangin’ out at home with his naggin’ wife. Just goes to prove that the high school class hero don’t always turn out to have the best character.
When I spot Maurice comin’ toward Priscilla, I hafta force myself to take a deep breath and unclench my teeth . . . and my fist. He’s the guy she always fancied herself bein’ with, ’til he tried to take advantage of her after the tenth reunion. Priscilla wised up and told him to hit the road when she saw him for what he was. I still wanna punch his lights out, but I know better.
“Hey, there,” Maurice says as he cuts a narrow-eyed glance in my direction. “How about—”
Before he has a chance to continue, Priscilla cuts him off. “How about nothing, Maurice. I think your fiancée wants to see you.” She points toward Didi who looks like she’s ready to pull someone’s hair. “You better go see what she wants.” Then she smiles at me.
He looks surprised, but he nods. “Okay.” Then he walks off without another word. Trudy does her best to hide her amusement, but I can see the smile playin’ on her shiny red lips.
After Trudy and her guy take off to get some food, Priscilla gets real close. “I appreciate all you’ve done, Tim.” Her breath tickles my face as she speaks softly into my ear.
“You know I like doin’ it.” Her smile makes my heart thump hard, but I force myself to play it cool.
Pete and Laura walk around, hand in hand, and that just looks weird. After all, in the past, I don’t think they even spoke two words to each other at either of the reunion parties, and now they’re here as a couple. I look real close at Pete’s face and see it’s a strain for him to be at a party without a beer or somethin’ to loosen him up, but I hafta hand it to him. He’s behavin’, even though I’m sure he knows there’s a keg over by the food tables. A few of the guys are imbibin’, but there’s not a whole lotta action over there, and the party is tame . . . so tame it’s finished two hours after it started.
40
Priscilla
Throughout the night, I’ve been watching Tim in action. Not only has he singlehandedly set everything up for the bonfire, he’s turned into the go-to person for everyone from my class. On top of that, he has the ability to make me feel as though he’s doing all this for me. And maybe he is, but after all these years, I suspect there might be something else.
Now that the party is winding down, I look around and see that most of the people in attendance didn’t bother using the trash receptacles to dispose of their plates, cans, napkins, and marshmallow roasting sticks. Tim somehow manages to follow after them, picking up trash, and telling them he’ll see them tomorrow night—all the while smiling and acting as though he’s enjoying himself.
I walk up to him and place my elbow on his shoulder. “How do you do it?”
“What are you talkin’ about, Priscilla?”
“All this. You’re like a one-man show. If it weren’t for you, none of this would have happened.”
Tim chuckles. “And that might not be a bad thing. Don’t look to me like the bonfire was all that successful.”
“Oh, I think it was. People seemed to be having a good time.”
“Didn’t last long, though.” He glances around at the half dozen people still lingering. “We had to shut the other two parties down.”
I take a step back and tilt my head toward him. “People have grown up.”
Tim shrugs. “Maybe.”
Laura approaches, with Pete right on her heels. “Let’s get everything cleaned up so we can leave. I’m glad this thing’s over. Now all we have to deal with is tomorrow night.”
She makes it sound like such a chore I wonder why she continues being in charge. Tim nods. “Okie dokie. I’ll go tell the caterers they can shut down.”
By now, everyone else has left, so the four of us finish picking up trash and getting it ready to be carried away by the cleanup people Laura has hired to come in the morning. An hour and a half later, Tim and I are on our way back to town.
As he drives, I study his profile. Tim is a nice-looking man who is aging quite well. The strength of his jaw shows a rugged determination, and his deep-set eyes appear to notice everything.
I’m compelled to touch him . . . to connect with some invisible force that’s making me want to get closer to him. He gives me a quick glance and smiles as I place my hand on his shoulder.
“What’s that all about?”
I sigh. “I don’t know. I just wanted to touch you.”
“That’s nice.” His shoulder relaxes.
We ride in silence for a few minutes before we come to our first turn. “Wanna hear some music?”
“No, not really,” I say. “I’m really enjoying the silence.”
He chuckles. “I bet you don’t get much of that.”
“You’re right. Sometimes it seems as though my life is way too noisy.”
“Ya know, I think there might be a country song in that.”
“There probably is.” I pull my hand to my lap but continue looking at Tim. “So how do you like living in New York?”
He shrugs. “It’s okay.”
“Do you ever feel like life’s living you rather than the other way around?”
Tim frowns for a moment then nods. “Yes, that’s exactly how I feel sometimes, but I don’t see any other way.”
I scooch down as far as the seatbelt will allow, lean my head back, and close my eyes. “I always thought my life would be perfect once I had a successful run on TVNS.”
“Are you saying it’s not?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Tim, I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I feel restless—like there’s something I’ve been missing. Every once in a while, I get a flicker of what it might be . . . then it disappears before I can identify it.”
“That’s real deep, Priscilla . . . real deep.”
“Sorry, Tim. I didn’t mean to end the night on a down note. You did a fabulous job with the bonfire.”
He smiles. “Do you think folks had fun?”
“Absolutely. Even Trudy. And I don’t think she even gave Michael a second thought after he tried to talk to her.”
“She seems to be into that Darryl guy.”
I agree. “I hope so. It’s so hard to let go of who we were back in high school, but I think she’s finally managed to do that.”
Tim clears his throat. “Have you done that?”
“What? Let go of the old Priscilla?”
“Yeah.”
“Ya know, I thought I already had, but now I realize that’s always been my driving force. And now that I see it, I want to move on and stop holding myself back.”
Tim gives me a look of disbelief and shakes his head. “I don’t see nothin’ holdin’ you back, Priscilla.”
“That’s just it. Appearances are so deceiving, no one would know that everything I’ve done has been to p
rove myself to everyone else.” This thought has been playing in my head, ever since I realized how unfulfilling reaching my goal has been, but it’s the first time I’ve ever verbalized it. And now, I need to do something about it. But what?
As if he could read my mind, Tim nods. “It’s never too late to fix what’s broken.”
Now I’m ready for some music, so I turn on the radio. Tim cuts a glance at me, and he gives me one of his eye-crinkling smiles. We ride the rest of the way to my mother’s house with only our thoughts and the sound of music between us.
He pulls into the driveway and gets out. I know better than to open my own door because Tim, being the consummate southern gentleman, likes doing it for me.
On our way to the front door, I take his hand in mine and hear a quick whoosh of his breath. But he doesn’t say anything until we reach the doorstep.
“I . . . ” He looks down at me, and I feel something stir in my heart. “What’s going on?”
I swallow hard and let go of his hand. “I’m not sure.” And that’s exactly why I need to tread carefully. I want to kiss Tim, but doing that will change the dynamics of our relationship, and I don’t want to risk losing something wonderful that we already have.
“Good night, Priscilla.” He touches my cheek but quickly draws back his hand. “I’ll stop by the salon sometime tomorrow while I’m out runnin’ errands for Laura.”
He waits for me to unlock the front door and step inside before going back to his car. I stand by the window, watching his taillights disappear as he turns toward town.
Mother isn’t home, so I have the house to myself. It still irks me that she’s dating Mr. Barrymore, but I’m not the one living her life, and she seems to be happier than ever. I know Dad has dated a few people who work at Piney Point Community College, but he says he’s too set in his ways to be in a long-term relationship. I wonder why I never noticed how little attention Dad gave Mom before. And when I come to town, he doesn’t go out of his way to see me, and that hurts.
My thoughts wander to all the years I’ve been away from home and how my life has seemed to be gilded. Now I know that’s only perception. In reality, I’m still the same insecure, lonely person I always was. I’ve had occasional dates when time has allowed, but no man has hung in there with me . . . except Tim.