Sit! Stay! Speak!

by Annie England Noblin

  “This coming from the man who drives a tractor to community events. What’s that thing get? Five miles to the gallon?” Addie smirked at him.

  “Your senseless dog is in the backyard rolling around in the water.”

  “I guess I’m going to have to go outside and get him.” Addie sighed, pulling on her rain boots. “Unless, of course, you wanted to drive your tractor out there?”

  Felix was on the opposite side of the yard, ignoring her pleas for him to come to her. “Don’t make me come get you,” Addie warned. As she spoke, one of her feet slipped out from under her and she fell backward onto the soggy grass.

  Behind her, Jasper guffawed. Addie heard him sloshing over to where she lay staring up at the gray sky, droplets of slanted rain stinging her cheeks. “Need a hand?”

  Felix bounded over to the two of them. “Some friend you are,” Addie grumbled to Felix, allowing Jasper to pull her up. She trudged inside and headed toward her bedroom to change out of her wet clothes. “Why don’t you stay for a while?” she called out over her shoulder. For a moment, she cringed, realizing how hopeful she probably sounded. Screw that, she thought. I am hopeful. Besides, he was the one who’d offered to drive her home, anyway.

  “I’m pretty sure the low-water bridge close to the house is washed out, anyway.” Jasper was standing in front of her refrigerator, staring intently inside. “There sure is a lot of food in here for one person.” He turned around to stare at Addie, who was rushing toward him, one arm still outside of her T-shirt.

  “What do you need in there?” Addie asked, red-faced. She put herself between him and the fridge.

  “Did I see two bowls full of mashed potatoes?” Jasper asked, looking over her head. “And collard greens? And hush puppies?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Lord, Adelaide. What else have you got in there?”

  “I think you’ve about got it covered.”

  “Did you have a dinner party or something?”

  “No,” Addie said. She slunk away from the refrigerator, tugging at her shirt. “I was practicing.”

  “For what? The invasion of Paula Deen?”

  Addie avoided his stare. For you, she wanted to say. It sounded so ridiculous inside of her head. It was the twenty-first century. Women didn’t do that anymore, did they? She eyed her aunt’s recipe box, perched precariously on the edge of the counter by the stove. Maybe some women did. “Feminism is about choices,” she mumbled.

  “What?” Jasper was giving her his full attention now, the refrigerator and its contents forgotten. “What are you talking about?”

  Addie sighed. There was no avoiding it now. “My aunt left me her recipe box. I’ve been practicing my cooking.” She sat down at the table. “I’m not very good at it.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that,” Jasper replied. His eyes were dancing. “Those pies you made were pretty tasty.”

  “That’s a lie,” Addie said, not looking at him. “I tasted them myself.”

  “Well, they weren’t awful,” Jasper relented. “What did you make to go with the mashed potatoes and the collard greens?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  Addie wished she could disappear. “I haven’t worked up to main courses yet.”

  This time Jasper couldn’t keep from laughing, and it was contagious. Addie began laughing, too, and pretty soon they were both laughing so hard that tears were rolling down their cheeks.

  Twenty minutes later, Jasper stood hunched over her stove, stirring something that was beginning to smell delicious. “This would be working out a lot better if you had a cast-iron skillet.”

  “You’re lucky I own any skillet at all,” Addie replied. “But I think I have one of my aunt’s in a box in the closet. I thought it was junk because it was so gross-looking. What are you cooking?”

  “I’m attempting to fry chicken, and we can use some of that gravy you said you made this morning.”

  “Really?” Addie was impressed. She made a mental note to dig out the cast-iron skillet as soon as Jasper left.

  “You sound surprised,” Jasper replied. “I’m not always the brooding jackass groping women in my hallway, you know.”

  “Ah, so you do remember that.” Addie sat down at the table and took a sip of wine. “I was starting to wonder.”

  “Of course I remember.”

  “You can see how I might be confused.”

  “I felt guilty about it. I guess I still do.”

  “Why?”

  “Considering what happened in Chicago. The whole reason you’re here.”

  “I don’t remember saying that’s the reason I’m here.”

  “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to take advantage of you,” Jasper said. “Of your vulnerability.”

  “I definitely do not remember saying I was vulnerable.”

  “It goes with the territory.”

  “Of what? Of being the damaged ex-fiancée of a dead furniture dealer?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Jasper, what happened was horrible. It was worse than horrible. I swear there were days when I thought I was going to die, too. But I didn’t come here to be reminded of what happened.”

  “Why did you come here?” Jasper asked. “Lord knows it wasn’t to stay.”

  “You’re one to talk about staying,” Addie shot back. “You’re only here because you feel obligated. You’re tied to this place, just like me.”

  “At least I know why I’m here,” Jasper pressed. “Do you know why you’re here?”

  Addie shrugged. She didn’t know the answer to that question. She knew she could have sold the house and everything that came with it without actually moving to Eunice. “I needed a change. I needed something that wasn’t Chicago, and something that isn’t stained with the memory of Jonah. I know he’d want me to move on, but I can’t do that in a town that has his name written all over it.”

  “Well, I can tell you one thing about this house,” Jasper said. “It could use a little work.”

  “Couldn’t we all?” Addie muttered. “Couldn’t we all?”

  CHAPTER 27

  “THAT WAS WONDERFUL.” ADDIE LEANED BACK IN HER CHAIR. “Where did you learn to cook like that?”

  “It’s something I’ve always been able to do,” Jasper said. “Much to my father’s dismay, I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my mother as a child. Fried chicken was one of the first things she taught me. It’s a staple in any proper southern household.”

  “You’re an only child?”

  “Yes. My parents were both in their thirties before they had me. They never thought they’d have any children, I guess.”

  “So you were spoiled rotten.”

  “Hardly.” Jasper stood up and took Addie’s plate. “Rotten, yes. Spoiled, no.”

  “Here, let me do that.” Addie jumped up and took the plates out of Jasper’s hands. “Sit down.” She walked over to the sink, scraping the remainder of Jasper’s plate into Felix’s bowl. “So, you and your dad . . . you don’t get along very well?”

  “That’s an understatement,” Jasper muttered. “But we don’t really speak much, so I guess an argument could be made that we get along just fine as long as nobody talks.”

  “I always wondered what it would be like to have a father growing up. My mom was great, but she worked all the time trying to support us.”

  “Us?”

  “Herself and me. She didn’t meet my stepfather, Jerry, until I was in college. They’ve just been married a few months.”

  “It must be difficult being away from your mom. I mean, since it was just the two of you for so long.”

  Addie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to decide how to respond. “It is. But at the same time, I think it’s been good for my mother. After what happened . . . after—after I lost Jonah, I think she was afraid to be happy because she thought it would upset me. With me all the way down here, she’s finally able to have a life wit
hout worrying that she’s throwing it in my face.”

  “Is that why you left?”

  “Maybe.”

  Jasper stood up. “I guess I should probably get on home. It looks like it’s letting up, and I don’t think you need to worry too much about losing power.”

  “Okay.” Addie dried her hands with a dish towel. “Thanks for the ride, and thanks for dinner.”

  “Anytime,” Jasper said, opening the door. “You want me to go ahead and take you back to your car now?”

  Before Addie could respond, a gust of wind shot through the kitchen, and Addie shuddered. “Oh, wait, you forgot your hat.” She ran into the living room.

  “Is that coatrack some of that old barn wood?” Jasper asked.

  Addie pulled his hat off one of the old doorknobs. “Yes, so is the wine rack with the horseshoes in the kitchen.”

  “That’s amazing,” Jasper marveled. “You made these?”

  “I did.” Addie nodded. “And I don’t know if you noticed, but the kitchen table and chairs are the same ones you thought were trash the first time you were here.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” Jasper admitted. “But I’m noticing now.” He walked back into the kitchen, placing his hands on the back of one of the chairs. “I’ve never met anyone who could make something most people would throw away so beautiful.”

  “Thank you.” Addie was beaming. It had been a long time since anyone had praised her for her work. It had been a long time since she’d created anything for anyone to praise. “It’s my catharsis, you know?”

  “It’s raw talent, that’s what it is.” Jasper reached for his hat, accidentally catching part of her shirt, his hand brushing against her naked stomach. Goose bumps pricked up on her skin. Instead of pulling away from her, he let his hand wander around her stomach to the small of her back.

  It was too much.

  Jasper lifted her up onto the table, pushing her legs apart with his torso. His hands slid up her shirt, pulling her closer to him until she couldn’t breathe without feeling his chest against hers. “Tell me you want me,” he growled. “Tell me you want me to stay.”

  Addie couldn’t think. Her entire body was on fire. Finally, she found the word she’d been searching for.

  “Stay.”

  As Addie slid off the table, Jasper hooked his thumbs down into the waistband of her pants and pulled them down to find she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “Christ,” he mumbled into her ear. “I can’t control myself around you.” He placed one hand on her bare hip, and his other hand grazed her buttocks and found its way to the inside of her thigh. “I can’t think,” he rasped.

  Addie unhooked his belt as he fumbled with his shirt. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around the length of his excitement.

  Jasper moaned at her touch and launched himself forward, until she was lying flat on the table. Lifting up her camisole, he placed his mouth around one of her nipples. He bit down, and she writhed beneath him.

  “Please,” she begged him. “Please. I can’t stand it.”

  He placed his mouth over hers and then without any warning, thrust himself into her. She wrapped her legs tightly around him, raising her hips to meet his rhythm. His eyes were open, watching her as he moved inside her body. She writhed beneath him, but he whispered to her, “Be patient, just be patient.”

  Addie could hear her own heartbeat. She could hear Jasper’s heartbeat. His hands were gripping the table so tightly that she feared he would get splinters as he found his release. And then for a moment, everything was quiet.

  THE RAIN CONTINUED as a slow drizzle. Addie could hear it coming down outside, and she shifted in bed, prompting Jasper awake beside her. She still couldn’t believe he was here with her. Felix had been slighted to find him in his place, but had warmed quickly when Jasper invited him up, allowing the dog to curl up at his feet.

  “Are you still awake?” Jasper asked. “How long have I been out?”

  Addie grinned at him in the darkness as his fingers traced along her spine. “Not long. I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. I’m glad I’m awake. I love to listen to the rain.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s better on a tin roof,” he replied. “But I guess this will do.”

  “Rain makes me nervous,” Addie said. She scooted closer to Jasper.

  “How come?”

  “I don’t know,” Addie admitted. “Just seems like bad things always happen when it rains.”

  “The tree limb through the window was a freak accident.” Jasper stroked her hair.

  “It’s not just that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Addie was regretting this line of conversation. She didn’t want to talk about the rain or the bad things that happened in it. She wanted to lie here next to Jasper Floyd, in all his naked glory, and pretend like they were the only two people in the world. Damn rain.

  “Addie?” Jasper pried himself away from her. “Why don’t you like the rain? Does it have anything to do with”—he paused—“Jonah?”

  Addie cringed. She didn’t like hearing Jonah’s name coming out of Jasper’s mouth. It felt wrong. “It’s nothing,” she said. “Forget about it.”

  “I don’t want to forget about it.”

  She couldn’t see him in the dark, but she knew he was staring at her. She knew she was going to have to tell him. She took a deep breath and said, “Jonah died in the rain. I mean, he died in a car accident, but it was raining.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “We had a fight,” she went on. “I was running late, and we fought. I told him to go without me and he did.”

  “Where was he going?”

  “We were supposed to be getting married in two months. It was our last meeting with the caterer. The food was so important; I guess that’s maybe a bit of my aunt Tilda in me, to be so obsessed with food.” Addie squeezed her eyes shut. “Jonah didn’t understand, but he was so kind about it, even when I picked a caterer an hour away. God, I was so stupid.”

  When Jasper didn’t say anything, she continued, “The roads were slick. It was cold,” Addie replied. She fought the tears threatening to flood the space between them. “He was angry. He was driving twenty above the speed limit. He died on impact, and it was my fault.”

  “Adelaide, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “It was.” She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “It was my fault, and it was for nothing. He died for no reason at all, and I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “Don’t say that,” Jasper whispered, pulling her close to him. “There’s nothing you could have done. Nothing you could have said. Blaming yourself won’t bring him back.”

  Addie didn’t say anything. She couldn’t say what she wanted to say. She couldn’t say out loud that if Jonah hadn’t died she wouldn’t be here with Jasper, and that the only place she wanted to be was here beside him. The guilt of it all kept her mouth stitched shut. The guilt of it all kept the space between them real and fluid, an ocean of feelings she couldn’t explain.

  Addie awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the windows of her bedroom. She opened her eyes and saw that Jasper was still asleep next to her. She thought about reaching out and touching him, but was afraid that she would wake him and prompt an awkward morning-after-sex conversation that she wasn’t sure she was ready to have.

  She instead rolled over and glanced at her alarm clock. It was 7:40 A.M.

  “Oh, shit!” Addie shrieked, shooting up in the bed like a rocket. “Shit, shit, shit!”

  Beside her Jasper stirred. “What?”

  “Shit!” Addie said again, this time jumping out of bed. “I forgot to set my alarm!”

  “What?”

  “I have to work today. It’s my first day at the clinic. I can’t believe I’m going to be late on my first day!”

  “I’m sorry; I’m not really awake yet.” Jasper rubbed his eyes. “You have to what?”

  Addie ru
mmaged through her dresser for a pair of panties. She found a pair and plopped herself back down on the bed, jamming her legs into them.

  “Calm down. You just live five minutes away from there.” He glanced down at her underwear and said, “I like those, by the way.”

  Addie stood up and hurried over to her closet. “But my car is in a parking lot clear on the other side of town, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Do you think you could just take me to the clinic? I can have Wanda take me to get my car later.”

  Jasper turned away from her, pulling on his pants. He walked past Addie and to the foot of the bed where his shirt lay. He didn’t respond.

  “Well?”

  “What?”

  “Can you take me to the clinic?”

  “Do you think you could give Wanda a call? You aren’t the only one running late.”

  “Jasper, I’ve got fifteen minutes to get there, and I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet. Why can’t you just take me to work?”

  “I just have so much to do at the farm. I was gone all night and didn’t tell anyone.”

  Addie narrowed her eyes at him. He wasn’t looking at her. And he was standing in the doorway like he was ready to bolt. Why didn’t he want to take her to the clinic?

  “It’s not like I’m asking for a kidney,” Addie said. “What’s your problem?”

  “I know, I know.” Jasper shoved his hands down into his pockets. “It’s just Doc is good friends with my parents. If he sees me dropping you off, he might get the wrong idea. And I really need to be getting back.”

  “The wrong idea?” Addie could feel the color rising in her cheeks. She was furious. “Oh, you mean he might think that we spent the night together?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know exactly what you meant,” Addie hissed. “Just leave. I’ll call Wanda to come and get me.”

  “Addie, you’re overreacting.” Jasper stepped toward her.

  “You didn’t seem to mind yesterday, pushing my shopping cart all over the place like it was your goddamn civic duty.” Addie recoiled from his grasp. “But I guess everything’s different now, huh?”

  “Please. Please don’t do this.”