Sticks & Stones

by Rachael Brownell

  “Make your decision, Reese,” she replies, my words not having any effect on her.

  “Fine. I’ll go, but if anything happens, you will call me. Understand?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just go. We’ll be fine. Nothing ever happens anyway.”

  She says that now, but as soon as I’m soaking in a mud bath, the place will catch on fire. Just to be safe, I think I’ll opt for a massage instead. At least, that way, I can escape quickly if I need to.

  Gentle, soothing sounds play from a speaker on the ceiling. The room smells of lavender and vanilla. My masseuse Joy is strong yet gentle. She’s working on the back of my neck as I stare at the ceiling. My eyes start to close as the sensation begins to relax my entire body.

  Joy nudges me awake, asking me to flip over. As I do so clumsily, the sheet slides off my body, but I don’t care. I’m still half asleep. Joy says something as she covers me back up but I don’t hear anything beyond a mumble. I’m back in la-la land seconds later.

  “You must have been exhausted, Ms. Kennedy. You’ve never fallen asleep on me before,” Joy says as she runs my credit card.

  “I was, but I feel much better now. I hope you didn’t take it easy on me because I was asleep. You know how much my lower back bothers me.”

  “Never. In fact, I may have pushed a little too hard because you weren’t awake to tell me if it hurt or not. If you’re sore later, put a warm cloth or heating pad on your lower back.”

  Thanking Joy, I make my way back to my car, a little pep in my step. The stress of the last week is gone. The stress of the weekend is at bay. Knowing I’ll need it, I made an appointment with Joy on Monday afternoon. As great as she is, the knots she worked out of me today will be twice as bad the next time we see each other. It’s not her fault. When I get nervous, I flex the muscles in my back, causing them to lock up. This weekend is going to be filled with stress. By the time we return, I’ll be one big knot.

  The muscles in my lower back start to burn as soon as I walk through my front door. Rummaging through my medicine cabinet, I’m out of the heating pads that work best. If my options are to suffer through the pain or take a warm bath, I’d rather sit in the tub, one of my least favorite things to do.

  Baths are pointless. People are literally sitting in dirty water. No matter how much bubble bath or Epsom salts one adds, the water is still filled with dead skin cells. The thought causes a shiver to run up my spine. Ewe!

  I can’t even relax like most people.

  My phone chimes with an incoming text as soon as I step in the water. Snagging it off the counter, I slip beneath the bubbles.

  Hunter: Are we going anywhere besides the hotel? Trying to pack accordingly.

  Me: We have to stop at my parents. I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you that.

  Hunter: That’s fine. What did you tell them about me?

  Me: I haven’t yet. I’ll tell them you’re a colleague. Sound good?

  Hunter: That’s fine with me. Should I wear a suit then?

  Me: No. Whatever you wear on the plane is fine. Casual. Besides that, we’ll have dinner at the hotel, or we can go out. Whatever you prefer.

  Hunter: Let’s go out. Somewhere nice. Pack a skirt or dress. I’ve heard of a place.

  Me: Okay, sounds good.

  Hunter: How about I pick you up at six?

  Me: You live closer to the airport. Why don’t I pick you up instead?

  Hunter: That’s fine. Six o’clock Friday morning. See you then.

  Me: Perfect. See you then.

  Tossing my phone on top of my towel, I lie back against the tub. I have two and a half days before I see him again. That makes me sad and excited at the same time. On one hand, I’m excited to spend time with him, even if it is business related. On the other, I’m not excited for the reunion. Maybe we could skip that, stay in our room, and play checkers or something stupid.

  No! I didn’t pay him all that money to play checkers with me. I paid to show him off. I paid to have a fiancé on my arm when Tiffanie approaches me. I paid for her smug smile to disappear when she hears how fantastic I’m doing. Closing my eyes, I try to picture her face. I wonder if she’s aged well or not?

  The reunion is going to suck, but it’s also going to be amazing. It’s my chance to prove to everyone that their words didn’t destroy me. They tried the best they could, but they failed. Sure, I thought about killing myself, more than once. I almost brought myself to do it one night. Those nights don’t define me. Their words don’t define me.

  My choices, my successes… that’s what defines me. My life is my own. I made something of myself. Chew on that, Tiffanie!

  Laughing out loud, water splashes in my mouth and I almost choke.

  Gross!

  Dead skin soup!

  In my mouth!

  Pulling the plug on the tub, I close the curtain and turn on the shower. Time to clean up and enjoy a nice glass of wine before calling my parents.

  It’s been a few weeks since I’ve spoken to them. We text back and forth a few times a week, but for this conversation, I feel like an actual phone call would be better. I want to make sure they understand clearly. There’s no room for error here.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Jane! How are you, sweetie?” Mom’s voice rises an octave or two when she says my name causing me to pull the phone away from my ear.

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “Fine, fine. We just ate dinner. Your dad’s asleep in the chair already.”

  Like clockwork. Nothing ever changes in that house.

  “That’s okay. I was calling to talk to you anyway. You know I’m coming home this weekend, right?” I ask, taking a sip of my wine.

  “You are? That’s wonderful. I’ll change the sheets on your bed.”

  “You don’t have to do that, mom. I–”

  “Yes, I do. It’s been forever since you’ve been home, and I can’t remember the last time I changed the sheets. I should probably dust and run the vacuum, too.”

  “Mom,” I holler as soon as I can get a word in. She would continue to ramble on if I didn’t interrupt.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. What were you saying?”

  “I’ll be staying downtown. The reunion is this weekend,” I explain.

  “That’s right. I almost forgot.” She tries to hide it, but I can hear the sadness in her voice that I won’t be staying with them.

  “Anyway, my plane gets in early Friday afternoon. I was thinking I would come visit before I check into the hotel. Will you both be home?”

  “Where else would we be?” she asks, sounding confused.

  Who knows? Last time I tried to make arrangements, they weren’t there when I arrived. I waited two hours, outside in the rain, for them to get there because they moved the hide-a-key. This is part of the reason I always rent a car now.

  “Okay, well I guess I’ll see you Friday afternoon, then.”

  “That’s great, Jane. Your father will be excited when I tell him.”

  Maybe. Not if you tell him I’m bringing a man with me. He won’t like that at all. Time to suck it up and tell her. It’s not like I can hide him from them. He has to go with me.

  “One more thing, Mom. I’m bringing a friend with me.” The words spill out of my mouth before I lose the nerve.

  “Oh! That’s exciting. We haven’t seen Ireland in years. It’ll be nice to see her again. She has a way of making your father laugh. Remember?”

  “Yes, I remember. Ireland couldn’t come with me, Mom. Her sister’s getting married this weekend. I’m bringing a male co-worker with me. His name is Hunter.”

  Silence. This shouldn’t be that much of a shock to them. I’m twenty-eight years old, damn it! I’m allowed to have male friends. I’m allowed to date. It’s not like I’ve never had a boyfriend before. Not that Hunter’s my boyfriend, at least not while we’re around them.

  “Mom?” I finally ask even though I know she’s still there.

  “I’m here honey. I was just thin
king about how I’m going to tell your father. He won’t like this.” She’s not lying. I’ve brought exactly one boyfriend home with me, and it was a disaster. I can only hope that Hunter being a “friend” doesn’t turn out the same way.

  “Listen, Mom. He’s just a friend. I swear. Dad will be fine.”

  “It’s just you’ve never talked about him before.”

  “Why would I? We’re not dating,” I explain.

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  “It’s going to be fine. We’ll head to the house straight from the airport, visit for a while, then head to the hotel to check in. Sound good?”

  “Sure, sweetie. Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’ll make a nice Chicken Parmesan.”

  By the time I hang up, she sounds relaxed again. I knew bringing Hunter would put them both on edge. For different reasons. My father seemed to enjoy threatening the only man I ever brought into his house. I swear he’s still waiting for another opportunity. My mother, on the other hand, will start talking about marriage and children. She’s waiting on grandchildren and tends to remind me every year on her birthday that she only has so many years left to enjoy them.

  As true as that statement is, she’s still only turning fifty-three this year. She’s not that old. She has plenty of time, and she can wait a few more years for me to find someone to settle down with. If I even decide that’s what I want. Kids are not in my future, though, but I can’t tell her that. Breaking my mother’s heart will never be on my to-do list.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hunter

  The last two days have been excruciating. Reese consumed my every thought. That’s both a good and bad thing. There have been moments I was happy she was on my mind, like last night after I fell asleep when I dreamt of her. Other times, not so much–like this morning when I woke up at four o’clock and packed up my bag. The entire time I was freaking out about what lies ahead of us.

  Tiffanie.

  Her parents.

  Playing pretend.

  As good of a job as I do “acting” on a daily basis, this might be more than I can handle. I know these people. Correction. I knew these people. I’m hoping they’re better versions of who they used to be. If not, I might go ape shit and punch someone.

  That’s why I’m freaking out.

  If I punch someone, my cover will be blown. Reese’s plan will go down the drain. All of this will be for nothing.

  Not to mention I’ll make her situation worse for her.

  So I’ve made my own plan for the reunion. Hopefully, it helps ensure my identity remains a mystery.

  Keep quiet. Only speak when spoken to. Avoid Tiffanie at all costs. In and out, as quickly as possible. If Reese wants to stay and hang out with the assholes that used to make her life a living hell, I’ll fake being sick or tired. As my “fiancée” she’ll have to be understanding. Either she’ll leave with me or let me leave on my own.

  Looking up at the clock on the wall, I grab my bag and make my way downstairs. Reese should be pulling in any minute. The second I get in her car, I need to be in character. She’s my fiancée. We’re a happy couple. I desire her.

  That last part won’t be hard to fake. In fact, it might be hard to hide. I need to keep my dirty thoughts under control while we’re there. Once we get back and I tell her the truth, then I can think about making my move. Until then, I need to keep it professional in private and personal in public.

  Knowing how hard that is going to be makes me wonder if this is a good idea after all.

  “I told my parents you were a colleague. They seemed skeptical at first. Please make sure you act accordingly,” Reese begs as we make our way toward my old neighborhood. The same neighborhood she grew up in. “Oh, and make sure you call me Jane. They hate when people call me Reese.”

  “I can do that. It’s probably a good idea for me to practice calling you Jane anyway. I don’t want to slip up later on,” I reply as we pass my house. My mom’s car is in the driveway, sparkling in the afternoon sunshine. My dad must have washed it recently. It’s his favorite thing to do.

  “Even if you call me Reese, it’s not a big deal. That can be easily explained away.”

  “Does that mean I can call you Reese’s Pieces, then?”

  Shooting me an evil glare before returning her focus to the road, she doesn’t bother to reply. I know I’ve asked her before, and she hated the idea, but if I get nervous or start to think we need to turn it up a notch, I’m going to go for it. The best part is that she won’t be able to do a damn thing about it in public. That fact alone makes me want to do it even more.

  Pulling into her parents’ driveway, I suck in a deep breath and shake my head at the person I used to be. Damn Tiffanie for causing all this.

  Halloween, the only one we spent together, she convinced me to dress up and walk the neighborhood. We weren’t looking for candy, and I knew that the moment she showed up at my door dressed in all black. I hadn’t put my costume on yet. She probably would have broken up with me as soon as she saw me dressed as Batman.

  After trying to convince her for twenty minutes to leave the neighborhood, I finally gave up. She was on a mission, and my words meant shit to her. That should have been my first clue about the kind of person she was.

  We stopped in front a few different houses, tossing toilet paper in trees and wrapping it around shrubs. We even wrapped a couple of mailboxes. This house–Jane’s house–was the last place we stopped. At first, I was confused. There wasn’t a tree anywhere in sight and we were out of toilet paper according to Tiffanie. What I wasn’t aware of was the fact Tiffanie has a carton of eggs in her bag.

  When she pulled them out, I took a step back and refused to help her. She didn’t seem to care. She popped the carton open, took two eggs out, and threw them. One hit the pavement in the driveway, the other hit a red car. I remember thinking how it was going to eat the paint off the car if it dried overnight.

  Leaving Tiffanie behind, I walked back to my house, knowing what I had to do. Looking out the front window, I watched for her to come back. When she finally showed, she got in her car and drove away. She never bothered to say goodbye. She didn’t even care if I made it home. I guessed was she was mad at me. Monday proved me wrong when she jumped into my arms and kissed me in the parking lot.

  After she was gone, I gathered my bucket and scrub brush. After filling it with soapy water, I made my way back to clean up the mess Tiffanie made. When I got there, a man was in the driveway, surveying the damage. He noticed me standing there before I had a chance to walk away.

  “Is this your handy work?” he asked, attempting to keep his anger in check.

  “No, sir. My friends did that, but I didn’t help. I came back to clean it up,” I replied honestly, holding up the bucket as evidence.

  “As long as it gets cleaned up, I won’t press charges. I’ll be back out to check on you. I need to calm my daughter down. This is her car.”

  Making quick work of it, I cleaned up the car the best I could. Once I was satisfied, I gathered my things and ran home. As much as I trusted him, I wasn’t about to stick around and give him my information in case he changed his mind. I wasn’t going to take the fall for what Tiffanie did.

  “Ready?” Reese asks.

  Not really. That’s what I want to say. Instead, I nod and pray that her father doesn’t recognize me.

  “Jane!” her mother says excitedly as we walk through the front door.

  “Hey, Mama,” she replies as her mother pulls her in for a hug. “Where’s Daddy?”

  “He’s not home yet. He wasn’t planning on working today, but you know how that goes. They call, and he goes running. I can’t wait for him to retire. Only a few more years.”

  Her mother continues to ramble while we stand in the foyer. Neither of them acknowledges my presence, and that’s fine. This visit isn’t about me. The fact that her father isn’t here makes me a little less on edge. Once he arrives, I’m sure that’ll change. Maybe we’ll b
e gone by then.

  “Mama, this is Hunter,” Reese says, the mention of my name drawing my attention to her.

  “Hello. I’m Nancy,” she replies, extending her hand in my direction.

  “Nice to meet you.” I shake her hand. “You have a lovely home, Mrs. Kenn–Sharp.”

  Shit! I hope she isn't offended by my slip up.

  “Call me Nancy, please,” she replies, kindness the only thing I hear in her voice.

  Making our way further into the home, Reese seems to relax. This is a side of her I haven’t seen before. She’s comfortable in her surroundings. I would have thought she would be on edge right now, filled with memories of a different time. You can tell she had a great home life. Considering the shit she went through in school, I’m happy for her.

  Two cups of coffee later, I hear the garage door jump to life. A few minutes later, Reese’s father walks into the kitchen, pulling Reese into a hug the second he reaches her. That’s when his eyes start scanning the room until he finds me. Staring at each other while he hugs his precious daughter, I notice the moment he recognizes me.

  This can go one of two ways, neither of which have a good outcome. He’s either going to out me right here, right now, or, he’ll pull me aside later and do it in private, which I think might be scarier. I’m not sure I want to be alone with her father, even if it’s just for a few minutes. The anger he held back that night might still be lurking underneath.

  “And who might this be?” he asks as Reese steps out of his arms.

  “This is Hunter, Dad. We work together. He’s going to the reunion with me since Ireland couldn’t come,” Reese explains, sounding confident in each word. She’s getting better at lying. That or maybe she believes what she’s saying. It’s not a complete stretch of the truth. We are working together.

  Stepping forward, Mr. Sharp extends his hand. “Nice to meet you, Hunter.”

  Taking my hand in his, he squeezes it harder than necessary, letting me know he’s stronger than he looks.