by Kelly, Hazel
He put a second jar of spinach dip in the basket.
I crossed my arms and cocked my head. “Is it the main course, too, then?”
“No,” he said. “I thought you might like an extra jar to take home since you’ve got nothing but bird feed at the moment.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
“What else would you like for our picnic?”
“Alcohol.”
He laughed. “I thought maybe we’d get that last since it’s the heaviest.”
“Right.”
“Plus, then we’ll be able to choose something that complements our menu.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I’d say our options are pretty wide open considering all we’ve got so far is spinach dip.”
“How about some finger sandwiches?” he asked, nodding past me.
I looked over my shoulder and let my eyes scan the row of readymade sandwiches. “Those look alright.”
He held out the basket. “Chuck a few in there.”
I grabbed three different kinds and stacked them in the corner of the basket. When I looked up, he was staring down at me.
I raised my eyebrows. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said. “What would you like for dessert?”
We rounded the corner, and a cheesecake caught my eye.
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Your eyes almost fell out of your head.”
I felt my cheeks burn.
“Why don’t you pick it up?” he asked.
“I don’t think it’ll keep.”
“I have a cooler in the car. We’ll get some ice. It’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” I stole a glance at the price tag, knowing there was a good chance he wouldn’t let me pay.
“I insist.”
“I think we’ve got enough then,” I said. “We should probably just get the alcohol and go.”
“What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just cost conscious.”
He rolled his eyes.
“What?”
“First of all, I can afford it.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, trying to guess how much he could possibly earn doing odd jobs. I didn’t want him to go broke trying to impress me.
He narrowed his eyes. “Am I sure I know what I can and can’t afford?”
I swallowed.
“I appreciate your concern, but you really shouldn’t make assumptions about people-”
“I wasn’t making any assumptions-”
“Yeah you were, but it’s okay. I know you were just trying to look out for me,” he said. “But second of all, you’re lying.”
“Lying?”
“Yup.”
“I am not.”
“Really? Cause I could’ve sworn you wore Zapattinos to the Billy Goat Inn last night.”
“So?”
“So either you’re loaded, or you’re not that cost conscious at all.”
“I worked hard so I could buy those shoes.”
“I’m sure you did,” he said. “But unless they’re knockoffs, image is a lot more important to you than being pennywise.”
“How dare you make assumptions about me,” I said, taking a step back. “And how the hell do you know what kind of shoes they were anyway? You have some kind of fetish or something?”
“Yeah, I do.”
I felt my eyes double in size.
“For women,” he said. “And I’m in deep enough that I have that kind of crap in my brain.”
I was seething so intensely I couldn’t speak.
“Plus, I’ve met the guy.”
“What guy?”
“The guy who makes those shoes.”
“No you haven’t.”
“Okay, fine. I haven’t.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Are you seriously so small minded that you don’t think I could possibly know a good cobbler?”
“It’s not that I’m small minded,” I said, lowering my voice. “I just- you’re a- you’re a…”
“What?” he asked. “What am I?”
“A handyman.”
He groaned.
I put one hand on my hip and balanced the cheese cake in the other. “Are you not?”
“No, actually. I’m not.”
“So what are you doing spending your time doing DIY in Pine Island?”
He grabbed the cheesecake with his free hand and started down the aisle.
“Well?” I asked, wondering if he was some kind of psycho all over again, posing as a repairman to prey on vulnerable women like me. “I think that’s a fair question,” I said, walking just behind him as he headed towards the booze.
He turned around, and I ran right into his chest, but he didn’t even wobble as I stumbled back. “I’m doing someone a favor.”
“Who?”
“My brother,” he said. “He’s in property development.”
“Oh.”
“And before you ask-”
I pushed my hair out of my face.
“He couldn’t do it himself because he’s at my niece’s ballet recital this weekend.”
I pursed my lips.
“And he figured I could use some fresh air.”
I glanced down at the shiny tiles on the floor between us.
“Speaking of which, the air in here has gone a bit stuffy so- if you don’t mind- I’d like to get out of here.” He stared at me with raised eyebrows until I became aware of the florescent lights buzzing overhead.
“Okay.”
“Here.” He set the cheesecake on top of the other items in the basket and handed it to me. “I’ll grab the booze and meet you at the register.”
It was obvious that the man at the counter wasn’t aware of the marvels of modern dentistry, but I didn’t stare out of respect for my appetite. And by the time I’d unloaded the basket, Wyatt was setting down two bottles of wine and a case of beer.
“Red okay with you?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“Can you add a bag of ice to that?” he asked the man scanning the items. “We’ll grab it on our way out.”
“Sure thing,” the cashier said, taking a moment to spit into an empty bottle full of black liquid.
Wyatt reached for a small can of bug spray and rolled it up behind the other stuff.
I opened my purse and pulled out my wallet.
“Put that away,” he said. “You’ve offended me enough.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you-”
“Right.”
“That’s not fair,” I said, turning towards him. “You’re acting like you haven’t made a single assumption about me, and we both know that’s not true.”
The cashier raised his eyebrows and looked up without lifting his head.
“Why don’t you go get the ice,” Wyatt said. “And cool down while you’re at it.”
“Unbelievable,” I said, turning around. I stopped after two steps and looked back over my shoulder. “Where is it?”
“Outside,” he said. “In the big white fridge that says ICE across it in blue letters.”
I squeezed my hands into fists and marched out of the store without looking back at Wyatt.
What was his problem?
That I tried to be considerate? That I didn’t want him to think he had to spend a bunch of money on an entire cheesecake just to impress me? I mean, shit. I know it was just a cheesecake, but I never even let colleagues pick up my Starbucks.
I was only trying to be a nice person! Who the fuck knows why? I wasn’t all that convinced he was a very nice person, but still. No one had ever made me feel this crazy, this out of my mind, this- this- ugh!
I took a deep breath and lifted a heavy bag of ice from the freezer, my feet nearly leaving the ground as I hoisted it up.
Wyatt was right about one thing.
I did need to cool down.
I just didn’t see how the heck I was ever going to do that with him aro
und.
Chapter 11: Wyatt
As I paid for our picnic stuff, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was why I stopped seeing women more than once.
After all, for years, I had been content to love ‘em and leave them as efficiently as possible. And now I remembered why. Cause they were infuriating, opinionated, and hardheaded.
Except that wasn’t the whole story. It couldn’t be. Because a lot of the women I’d fooled around with in the last few years didn’t have that much going on between their ears. In fact, I’d say most of their brains weighed less than the vacant beehive I had to break off a chimney earlier that day.
So maybe it was only clever women who were more trouble than they were worth.
If I had to pin it down, I’d say the smartest woman I knew was my mother, followed by my sisters, followed by Austin’s wife Karen. And not surprisingly, they were all pretty much at the top of the list of women who did my head in.
Surely that was no coincidence.
But I’d never tolerated that kind of insolence from any woman that wasn’t family. So why was I doing it now?
I honestly didn’t see why I shouldn’t get in the car, drive Addison back to her cabin, and go home for a quiet night.
Okay, so that’s not true. I could think of one reason.
Her.
Despite how assumptive, rude, and self-centered she was, I was insanely attracted to her. I don’t know if it was just the Cherise thing and I was living out some adolescent fantasy or if there was more to it than that, but she was as tempting as a box of matches next to a pile of dry leaves and I just couldn’t walk away.
I sighed as I walked out the door of the grocer, concentrating so I wouldn’t drop the booze or the food, which was all rather precariously bagged by the cashier as if he were playing Tetris
The parking lot was empty except for two cars several spaces down from where Addison was leaning against my truck. Her red hair still shone brightly even though it was dusk, and she had a sheepish look on her face and a bag of ice at her feet.
I set the stuff down, unlocked the car, and pulled the cooler out of the backseat. “Can you bring me that ice?” I asked.
Addison waddled around the car holding the ice by the top of the bag, which caused her breasts to squeeze together so a hint of cleavage showed at the top of her shirt.
I opened the box of beer and put half of them in the bottom. Then I dumped half the ice in.
“Hey,” she said, putting a cold hand against my arm.
“What?” I asked, righting myself.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared at her green eyes. “It’s okay.”
“No, please,” she said. “I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t afford a cheesecake.”
“I know,” I said. “You were just trying to be nice. I get it.”
“You know that’s all it was, right?”
“Sure.”
She sighed and dropped her hands at her sides. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to make a fuss over me.”
I leaned an ear towards her. “What?”
“That’s all.”
“It’s just a cheesecake.”
“I know, but-“
“It’s really not a big deal,” I said. “And if you’re worried I’m going to think you owe me something cause I bought dinner, then let me put those fears to rest right now.”
Her shoulders dropped several inches.
“You’re going to sleep with me because you want to,” I said, bending over to put the rest of the beers in the cooler. “Not cause you were seduced by a cheap cake.”
“If that’s all this is about, why even bother with the picnic?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.
“Because your rice cakes didn’t exactly fill me up, and I’m not the kind of guy that can take it or leave it when it comes to food.”
“Or sex, apparently.”
“Huh,” I said, glaring at her pouty mouth. “I guess you know me better than I thought.”
She groaned and stomped around the car.
I finished loading the stuff into the cooler before lifting it into the backseat.
“So how did you meet him?” she asked.
I climbed into the driver’s seat. “How did I meet who?”
She buckled her seat belt. “Christiano Zapattino.”
I started the car. “I met him at a party.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, leaning her head back against the seat. “But I’m obviously missing something.”
I laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“You sounded so surprised there, like you were shocked. As if you never miss anything.”
“What did you say you do for a living?”
“I’m a songwriter.”
She laughed.
“You find that amusing?”
“Yeah, I do. I find it absolutely sidesplitting.”
I looked both ways and pulled out of the parking lot in the direction of the secluded place I had in mind, hoping to god she might calm the fuck down by the time we got there. “You weren’t laughing when I played at the bar last night.”
She twirled her hair and pulled it over one shoulder. “That’s true,” she said. “I was actually surprised by how talented you were.”
I pulled over and slammed on the brakes.
She threw her hands against the dash. “What the fuck?”
I sat up and looked at her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Cause you just said something that was almost kind, and I’m worried you might have a fever or something.”
She rolled her eyes. “Very funny. The only thing that’s wrong with me is the bruise I’m going to have from my seatbelt cause of that gag.”
I pulled back onto the road. “You’re so restrained all the time I’m surprised you even needed the seatbelt there.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a comedian?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“So what kind of songs do you write?”
“Mostly love songs.”
Her head fell to the side. “You’re serious.”
“Deadly serious.”
“Can I ask what makes you think you’re qualified to write about love?”
I smiled. “Cause I know all about it.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is lust.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not just lust I know about.”
She exhaled and looked out the window.
“What?”
“I’m just surprised you make a living peddling that sort of garbage.”
“Sorry. What is it that you find so appalling? Music or-”
“No,” she said. “Love.”
“What?”
“It’s a scam.”
“That’s an angle I haven’t heard.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Well, I must be a fool then cause I’ve fallen for it.”
“That’s why they call it fools in love. Only morons fall for that crap.”
“Is that what you really think?” I asked. “That love doesn’t really exist?”
“I can only speak from experience.”
I furrowed my brow. “What happened to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I think you might be the first woman I’ve ever met that doesn’t want to believe in love.”
“There’s always one, eh?”
“Is it just love at first sight you don’t buy or all kinds?”
She shrugged.
I exhaled. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Oh come on. It’s not that crazy. I used to believe in it.”
“So what happened?”
“I grew out of it, I guess. Just like I grew out of believing in the tooth fairy. And Santa Claus.”
“Something tells me you might have done that at an advanced age.”
“Probably.”
“And
I used to think it was possible to love your job,” she said. “But then the recession happened, and people’s jobs became as unreliable as romantic love.”
“I see.” I swallowed. “So you’ve never been in love then?”
“No.”
“And you mustn’t believe that anyone’s ever loved you?”
“Wyatt!”
I saw her hand shoot forward out of the corner of my eye and slammed on the brakes just in time to make room for a deer that came bounding across the road.
“Jesus,” Addison said, covering her chest with her hand. “Why didn’t it just wait? It must’ve heard the car.”
“Cause,” I said, pointing towards the woods to my right. “Its fawn is on this side.”
Her eyes darted between the trees. “Where?”
“Here.” I leaned back. “Look.”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and crawled over to my side, putting one hand on my door as she leaned towards the window.
Suddenly, my side of the car smelled amazing.
“Oh I see it,” she whispered.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked.
But all I could see was her.
Chapter 12: Addison
“I never get to see wildlife in the city,” I said, trying to keep my eyes on the white spots and tails moving between the trees.
“Whereas I like to see the deer because it means there are no bears around.”
I whipped my head around. “Bears?!”
He covered his eyes with his hands.
“Sorry- did I whip you in the eyes?” I asked, resting against the steering wheel.
His eyes were watering when he opened them. “It’s fine.”
I leaned back to get a look at him, but when I accidentally laid on the horn, it startled me so much I fell forward against him.
He caught me in his arms. “Well that should take care of the bears and the deer.”
I winced up at him and put a hand on my chest. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, hoisting me up.
I scooted back to my seat and buckled up again.
“I’m glad you got to see them.”
“Me too,” I said. “Before you plowed into one.”
“I wasn’t going to hit it.”
“Of course not.”
“Weird how it ran across, though,” he said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the Mother dear really loves her fawn.”
“Give it a rest,” I said. “That’s not love.”