I mentally chastise myself for letting so much of my past seep into my present, and before I can wrangle up another issue to internally debate, I pop a sleeping pill and go out.
********
“What was I thinking? Too much wine. That’s it! I was drunk. There’s no way in hell we’re going tonight, so don’t even think about trying to persuade me.”
“Why are you freaking out on me?” Lizzy asks, her long luscious lashes batting hard to show her annoyance.
“Lizzy, I accepted a double blind date from a customer. That’s completely unacceptable!”
“Why?”
“Because!”
“Will you quit yelling, and for goodness sakes, quit pacing. I’m getting motion sickness watching you.”
“You call him. Tell him I’m sick. Tell him I’m missing. Tell him I…”
Lizzy grabs my shoulders and forces me to face her. “Stop. Breathe. Relax. We’re only meeting for pizza. You’re totally blowing this out of proportion. Look, I know it’s been forever since you’ve had a date, and this must be super frightening for you, but you have to calm down. Honestly, you’re scaring me. I’ve never seen you like this.”
I close my eyes, and while pinching the bridge of my nose, I release a pent up breath. “You’re right. I need to calm down. If I’m uncomfortable, or if things go awry, we’ll leave. Right?”
“Yes, we’ll leave.”
“But what if you’re having fun with your guy and Fletcher turns out….”
“Did we switch roles or something?” she asks, mockingly touching her face as she turns to look in the mirror. “I’m supposed to be the ditzy neurotic one, while you’re supposed to be the wise and mature one—even if you are emotionally distant. I think you get docked a few maturity points for indifference.”
“Oh, hush! Yes, that’s right. I’m SO mature, just not where men are involved, obviously.”
“You do have a history of… hmmm, how do I put it nicely? Finding the most rottenly craptastic men to start relationships with, but this one is different. I just know it.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to meet Ben.”
“Pretty much.”
“You’re such a witch.”
“But you love me anyway. Please tell me you’re not wearing that tonight.”
“What’s wrong with this?” I ask, hands on my hips as I tap a sneakered foot against the floor.
“Nothing, if you’re about to play softball.”
“There is nothing wrong with this!” I say while checking my reflection. “A t-shirt and jeans are classic.”
She sighs. “Whatever. Let’s get going.” She shoos me out of the door and pushes me towards her car. Oh, her car! My frustration with Lizzy’s vehicle is best understood if I explain a few things.
For as long as I’ve known Lizzy, her sense of style has been quite unique. Her dresses are generally retro fifties housewife, complete with the short strand of pearls and perfectly styled coif. When she isn’t channeling her inner Donna Reed, she dresses in clothes too cutesy for doing anything of substance. For instance, the day she helped me to clean out my parents’ house so I could put it on the market she wore a nautical themed outfit. Her ensemble consisted of white, high-waisted shorts adorned with four plastic knot buttons, a tucked in navy blue sailor’s shirt with white trim and anchor patches, as well as cherry red patent leather heels and the lips to match. Her heart was in the right place, but her mind? I often wondered about her.
So, back to Lizzy’s car. It’s green. Seafoam green. With gigantic white polka dots, eyelashes above the headlights, a pair of pursed pink lips on the front bumper, and a huge pink bow fastened to the roof. The car’s rims are white daisies with yellow centers, and the luggage rack in the back is adorned with a customized sign that says Luvsy Wuvsy My Little Bugsy. Beetle Power! Did I mention how much I DESPISE riding in that thing?
Regardless, I suck up my reluctance and let Lizzy take the lead in this situation. We arrive at the pizza place, and I tell Lizzy to bring me home. She refuses. We get out of the car. I tell Lizzy to bring me home. She still refuses. We make it to the door of the establishment, and before I can say it, she snatches the back of my shirt with some sort of superhuman strength. She smiles politely at the family standing behind us.
“Hi. Please go ahead of us. Enjoy your evening. Your children are adorable.” As soon as the door closes behind them, the smile is gone and she’s pushing me aside. “Listen to me, and listen well. I’ve had enough of this childish behavior. If you want to go, then go. My goodness!” She stops snapping at me long enough to smooth her dress.
“Me? Childish? You have a pink bow on top of your car!”
“Leave my car out of this! Seriously, I’m not going to spend my evening running after you. If you want to go, then go.”
I give my feet a shameful glance. “We really have switched roles, haven’t we?”
Lizzy’s face softens. “It certainly seems so tonight. Are you in, or are you out?”
After a brief pause, I relent. “I’m in, and I promise to pull myself together.”
“That’s my girl!” She hugs me tightly, then swats me squarely on the behind when I turn to walk inside. This earns her a scowl, but it doesn’t faze her in the least. Instead, she hops up and down in the entryway, squealing while happily clapping her hands together. The entire restaurant stops and stares our way, and I want nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.
“Lizzy Lou? No way! Is it really you?” A tall, clean cut man with a strong, chiseled jaw and the most amazing hazel colored eyes quickly moves towards my friend.
“Mercedes Benz! Oh, my gosh! I had no clue that YOU were the Ben Thibodaux I’d be meeting with tonight. This is so amazing! I’ve always wondered what happened to you.”
He smiles down at her while taking one of her hands in his. “I haven’t been called Mercedes Benz in years. You look amazing, Lizzy. How long has it been?”
“We moved from Baton Rouge my eighth grade year, so… TOO LONG!” Another squeal rocks the restaurant. The manager peeks from behind a semi-closed door, shakes his head, and loudly pulls it closed.
“Lizzy, I’m sorry to interrupt, but maybe you should..”
“Ben, you have to meet my friend, Savannah! Savannah, this is Ben.”
“Very nice to meet you, Savannah,” he says, barely stealing a glance my way. Lizzy Lou and her perfect appearance clearly dominate his attention. I look past Ben, and there he is, staring our way with a confused look on his face. How is it possible for him to look even better in person than in the pictures? My heart starts racing, my palms get sweaty, and my breathing turns a little erratic. Nerves clench in my stomach, and I fight the urge to bolt. He smiles as his large hands leave the back of the chair he pulls from under the table to gesture that I should join him.
This can’t be. It can’t. People as beautiful as he is don’t go on blind dates at pizza parlors. Something’s wrong. Something’s very, very wrong. I try to stop the negative thoughts by smiling as I go around Lizzy and Ben and make my way to the table. “Hi, you must be Fletcher. It’s so nice to meet you.” That’s what I intended to say when I reached the table. What poured out of my mouth was a mix between a nervous giggle and, “Pizza. Yum.”
Fletcher’s brows furrow, but only briefly. It’s long enough to make me want to smack my head against the table repeatedly. “Yeah, pizza’s one of my favorites.”
“I like hamburgers, too,” I mumble. SHUT UP! Oh, my God! Why won’t my brain freaking work? Run! Just cut your losses and run!
Fletcher gives me the old “bless her heart” look. “That’s two things we have in common,” he replies.
I shake my head from side to side. “I’m sorry. This isn’t me at all. I’m so embarrassed.” Taking the seat he’s offered, I extend my hand to him once he sits across from me. “Hi, Fletcher. It’s nice to meet you.”
He accepts my outstretched hand and squeezes with a firm, but fa
r from bone-crushing, grip. “I’m glad you accepted my invitation. Please, don’t apologize. Truth be known, I’m nervous, too. I’m pretty much a homebody, but Ben keeps pushing me to get out more. I finally take his advice, and this happens.” He points towards Lizzy and Ben who are still fawning all over each other. “I swear he knows everyone.”
I let out a chuckle. “Yes, Lizzy is quite the social butterfly herself. I’ve been hearing the same things from her. ‘Let’s go dancing, Savannah. We should go to a ball game. Ball games are full of men, Savannah. You’ll never find your perfect match if you refuse to leave your apartment.’ I’ve heard them all.”
“So what’s your issue? Why don’t you venture out much?” Fletcher inquires.
“What?” I ask, slightly taken aback.
“Why do you choose to be a homebody?” he clarifies.
“Can’t it just be because I like staying home?”
He shakes his head. “Not likely.”
“Damn, straight to the intense stuff. Okay, I don’t like venturing out much because I work a lot. I’m usually wiped out when quitting time rolls around, and on my limited days off, I visit with my grandfather. It doesn’t leave much time for club hopping and such.”
“I never was into that scene. I’ve always been a simple country boy. I’d rather be in a tree stand than on a dance floor any day.”
“So you’re a hunter?”
“I don’t get to as much as I used to, but I manage to make a trip every once in a while.”
“Then tell me, what’s your issue?”
Fletcher lets out a deep laugh. “My own words come back to bite me.” He sighs. “It’s kind of a long story, and Ben and your friend are heading this way. Can we talk about it later?”
“Sure, as long as it’s not something malicious you’re keeping from me.”
“Malicious? Me? No way,” he says with a grin.
With her arm laced through Ben’s, Lizzy storms the table with gusto. “Sorry about that. I’m still in such shock that the Benz here is your friend!”
“Who’d a thunk?” Fletcher replies in what I immediately pick up on as sarcasm, but Lizzy remains clueless. Ben shoots him a warning glance. None the wiser, Lizzy continues to ramble about their childhood until the waitress comes by to take our order. She takes a breath long enough to order a sweet tea, and the rambling immediately commences. Ben listens to each of her words intently, but Fletcher and I were over the conversation the moment it started.
At first, Fletcher’s gestures were simple and barely noticeable, but as soon as I realized what he was doing, I join in. Before long, we are secretly trying to outdo one another. He very casually starts out with a yawn/stretch combo, and as soon as he’s sure they aren’t looking, he gestures as though he’s hanging himself with an imaginary rope. I cover my mouth to conceal my smile then slowly roll my hand to the side of my head to make a gun gesture with my fingers. Before I can “pull the trigger,” Lizzy turns to ask me a question. Smiling, I quickly redirect my finger to my ear and pretend to scratch an itch. Fletcher quickly looks away to hide his grin from the clueless two.
“Am I missing something?” Lizzy asks looking between me and Fletcher.
“I don’t think so. Savannah, is Lizzy missing something?”
“Lizzy, my love, the only thing you’re missing is a mute button,” I toss out, and Fletcher nearly hits the floor from laughter.
Lizzy squints at me while smirking playfully, and slowly, her lips erupt into a full, lopsided smile. “So, I’m talking too much? Okay, you asked for it. I’m zipping it the rest of the night. All future conversation is on you, and you alone. Good luck with that,” she asserts while pantomiming zipping and buttoning her mouth shut before haughtily crossing her arms over her chest.
“What’s that mean?” Ben asks, looking confused.
“It means that she knows that I’m not much of a conversationalist, and instead of picking on my dear sweet friend for her incessant chatting, I should thank her for jumping in and taking some of the pressure off me,” I answer. Lizzy smugly raises an eyebrow while a smirk crosses her lips.
“I have an idea,” Fletcher offers. All eyes are now on him. “It’s obvious that Lizzy and Ben have a lot of catching up to do, so why don’t you guys do that? Savannah, if you’re okay with it, why don’t we get our own table and let these two do their thing?”
Lizzy’s eyes light up. “Actually, I’m not really in the mood for pizza.” I shoot her a nasty look because I know what’s coming.
“I was just thinking that, too,” Ben volunteers. “I’m more of a steak kinda guy. What about you, Lizzy Lou? In the mood for a steak?”
“Why yes I am!” she giggles while abruptly standing. “Savannah, if you need a ride home, just call and I’ll swing by to pick you up. Unless…” she flashes a pearly white smile in Fletcher’s direction.
“I have the bike outside. I don’t mind bringing you home,” Fletcher says, catching the tail end of the non-verbal, gesture-laden scolding I’m giving to Lizzy for abandoning me with a man who is practically a stranger. “Unless you’re uncomfortable with me bringing you home.”
Lizzy replies, “If it’s an issue, I’ll just ride with Ben and leave my car for you, Savannah.”
“Uh, no. I’d rather take my chances with Fletcher,” I retort.
“Chances?” Fletcher says with a laugh.
Lizzy’s hands are on her hips. “There is nothing wrong with my car, Savannah Rose Mason.”
“Your car is wearing mascara, lipstick, and a hair bow, Elizabeth Jordan Cole.”
“No way! I’ve got to see this!” Ben exclaims, dashing to the parking lot.
“Wait for me!” Fletcher says, tossing a twenty onto the table to cover the drinks we’d ordered. I’m right behind them, and everyone is laughing and cackling once we get outside. Well, everyone but Lizzy.
“My car is cute!” she defensively calls after us. “Don’t pick on her! You’ll hurt her feelings.”
The guys stop mid-stride when they spot the bug. All is quiet for a few beats before one of the men lets out a loud belly laugh. He is quickly joined by the other, and before long, peals of laughter resonate throughout the parking lot.
“I thought you were joking,” Fletcher directs to me.
“Nope.”
“She’s a beaut,” Ben offers. “Don’t expect me to go riding around town in her, though.”
“No one asked you to,” Lizzy says with a pout. “She’s my baby, and I love her no matter what you meanies have to say about it!”
“It’s a great car, Lizzy. I’m sorry I laughed, but I really thought that Savannah was exaggerating. It caught me off guard, that’s all. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” Fletcher remarks.
“Yeah, me too,” Ben affirms once he stops laughing.
“Me, three,” I say, pulling Lizzy close with a one-armed hug.
“What?” Fletcher says, looking in Ben’s direction. “I think that’s a great idea!” Ben gives him a confused look. “Ben just whispered to me that he’s going to let you drive to the steak restaurant as a way of saying he’s sorry.”
“Wha…” Ben barely has time to stammer before Lizzy excitedly bounces up and down.
“Yay! Beetle power! Get in!” she squeals after unlocking the doors and climbing into the driver’s seat. Ben shoots Fletcher a seething glare as he climbs into the passenger seat of the seafoam green automobile. Fletcher pulls out his phone and steadily snaps picture after picture as the duo drives away. His laughter is heavy as he reviews them, and I join in when he holds the screen so I can see them, too.
“This is some serious blackmail material!” Fletcher says before tucking his phone back into his pocket. Our laughter fades, and it’s just the two of us in the dark parking lot near the pizza house. “Should we go back inside?” Fletcher asks.
I shake my head. “I’m not really in the mood for pizza anymore. You said you have the bike, right? Can we go for a ride?”
“Of cours
e,” he says, leading me to the far end of the lot. There it is, and it’s exactly as Dad left it. My emotions threaten to mutiny, but my brain overrides them. With all that I’ve had to overcome in my life, I’ve gotten really good at swallowing down my emotions and keeping a perfect poker face—at least until it was time to meet Fletcher this evening. I still don’t know what that was all about! Stuttering, stammering, and talking gibberish: those are Lizzy traits, not Savannah traits. Regardless, I’ve regained my composure, and no matter how sexy, good-looking, or amazing this man may be, I’m in complete control of my actions and emotions.
He offers me a helmet. “Where to? Do you have any suggestions?”
“Not really,” I answer while fastening the chin strap.
“I have an idea,” he says as he straddles the bike.
“Care to share?” I ask, taking the seat behind him.
“Nah, I’ll let it be a surprise,” he says, revving the engine. He kicks it into gear, and we’re off on our adventure.
Chapter Four
“What in the world?” I ask, removing my helmet. While doing a slow one-eighty degree turn in the parking lot, flashing lights, roaring rides, screaming kids, and sinfully delectable aromas bombard my senses. Suddenly, my mind is screaming for funnel cake, and my gurgling stomach seconds the demand. “A carnival? Why are we here?”
“Would you rather go somewhere else?”
“I was six years old the last time I went to one of these things. It doesn’t really look as though they’ve changed all that much.”
“Six? Wow, why so long?”
I shake my head. “Too long of a story. Do you think they still sell funnel cakes at these things?”
“I have it on high authority that they do. Come on,” he says. Taking my hand in his, he begins to lead the way to the concession area. Uncomfortable with what I consider an unwanted act intimacy, my body stiffens, and he feels it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
Yours Always Page 3