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Heart and Home Page 10

by Jennifer Melzer


  “You swear?”

  “Janice, I swear to you on my own life that I did not tell a single soul what you said yesterday.”

  I leaned back against the wall and tilted my head toward the yellowed ceiling tiles. “But you set me up.”

  “No, no, I promise I didn’t set you up. Sometimes he comes out on Tuesdays, and sometimes he doesn’t.” She reached out and touched my forearm. “I didn’t know if he’d be here or not, but I won’t lie and say I didn’t hope he’d show up after what you said yesterday.”

  The gaze I whipped at her was so quick she stepped back a little, her eyes wide with fright. I shook my head and squinted at her, “I will get you back for this.”

  An innocent grin touched the corners of her mouth. “Does that mean you’re not mad?”

  “How could I be mad at you,” I laughed. “I will get you back though, you better believe it!”

  “Good!” She smirked. “That means you’ll have another excuse to come back to town after you go back to the city.”

  Her statement set me back a little. “Did you really think I’d just never come back again after I leave on Sunday?”

  Shoulders shrugged up around her neck. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “You were like some old ghost or something after you went off to college. Your mom talked about you all the time, but sometimes I wasn’t even sure if you were real anymore, or just some figment of memory I made up as a kid.”

  “Becky…”

  “I mean, I know we weren’t best buds in school, and all that, but you never treated me like the other kids did.” When she looked away, I noticed she blinked quickly to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes. “And I was real sad to see you take off outta here and never come back.”

  It was the alcohol-tainted truth that made me burst into tears, and within a matter of minutes we were sobbing all over each other, and while it felt good to hear that my leaving actually mattered to someone other than my parents, it broke my heart that it saddened her so.

  “I’m sorry,” I stepped back and reached for a paper towel. I handed a wad to her, and then started to wipe my own tears on another. “I had no idea, Becky, and for that I really am sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she sniffled, and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “Really, Janice, I needed to learn to stand up for myself and be myself no matter what. Who’s to say I’d have ever done that? I mean, you never know.”

  I nodded. “And maybe if I’d stayed here, I might never have realized that this place wasn’t so bad.”

  The door opened and a woman I’d seen on the dance floor came bustling in to use the bathroom. Becky and I took a few minutes to pull ourselves together, and I tried to figure out how on earth I was going to face Troy feeling all weird and nostalgic thanks to a night’s worth of drinking coupled with Becky’s emotional admission.

  We were headed back out into the bar, but I paused for a moment and put my arm on Becky’s shoulder. “I just want you to know,” I started, “even after I go back to the city, I’m not going to forget again, and I will be back.”

  She nodded and smiled, “Good. I could use a friend like you in my life.”

  Blinking furiously to keep from breaking into tears again, I laughed and said, “So could I.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Troy was standing at the bar chatting with the bartender when Becky and I walked by, and I felt a slight sense of relief. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him, just that I couldn’t stand how nervous I felt around him. Sooner or later I was going to make a complete fool of myself again, and really didn’t need that kind of humiliation. Lastly, I didn’t need another reason to start thinking twice about never moving back to Sonesville.

  Anne Marie and Tracy were deep in conversation when we resumed our seats, and barely even looked up. I glanced toward the bar, and just looking in his direction made me nervous enough to reach for the mixed drink I’d left sitting on the table before we’d walked Lydia to her cab. Most of the ice melted, but I gulped down half the watery contents, and then wiped a drip from the corner of my mouth.

  He leaned casually into the bar as though he had all the confidence in the world. I don’t know why I’d been thinking of him as shy, and attributed it to the fact that my only real reference of him over the last few days had been in one on one conversation. He laughed at something the bartender said, nodding his head as if in agreement. Maybe he’d forget about Becky’s urge to buy us a round of drinks, and though I kept trying to tell myself that was what I really wanted, the thought alone convinced me otherwise.

  “We’re going to take off, Beck,” Anne Marie finally looked up. “I’m starting to get a headache.”

  “Awe,” Becky frowned and reached for Anne Marie’s hand. “Are you gonna be okay?”

  Anne Marie nodded, and a swift grin brightened her face. ‘“Too much fun for one night.”

  “We did have a lot of fun, didn’t we?”

  Tracy was foraging through her purse when she asked, “Do you want me to drive you home too, Becky?”

  “It’s probably a good idea if I don’t drive myself.”

  Troy moved soundlessly in behind me, I sensed him there almost before Becky looked up at him. Her grin prompted me to glance up over my shoulder just in time to catch him moving toward the chair beside me. “John couldn’t remember what you ladies were drinking, so he’s going to send Gabby over in a minute to take care of you.”

  “That was sweet,” Anne Marie noted in a sing-song fashion that actually made me giggle just a little. I reached for my drink and finished it off, plunking the glass down on the table. “We’re getting ready to take off,” she admitted. “I’m getting a headache.”

  “And I’m the designated driver, so…” Tracy shrugged.

  “You know, I don’t think I’m quite ready to go yet.” Becky’s admission came with a hint of alarm that almost confirmed my accusation that she was trying to set me up. “I think I’ll just split a taxi with Janice.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, then, we’re off,” Tracy pushed away from the table.

  Their leaving was an awkward flourish as they both expressed their joy at having finally met me. There were insistent promises that we all get together again the next time I came to town, and after about five minutes Becky promised she’d be right back, and hurried off to walk them outside before the fury of my stare could grab her attention.

  Troy and I weren’t alone long enough for it to get awkward because Gabby slipped in and asked me what I wanted to drink. I already had my share, that was for sure, and I knew I probably shouldn’t have gone that far, but I ordered a tall Long Island Iced Tea and inwardly cringed at the consequences I’d have to face come morning. I couldn’t remember the last time I drank so much, but there was a vague memory of a hangover promise that I’d never drink that much again.

  Gabby hustled back to the bar, and I looked longingly for some sign of Becky in the lounge.

  “You seem nervous.” Troy leaned into the table, a feat which must have been slightly uncomfortable for someone of his height. Despite that, he seemed perfectly relaxed, almost casual.

  “What?” I reached for my last drink, having forgotten it was empty. “Don’t be silly.”

  Don’t be silly? Silly—from the woman who was inwardly reminding herself to breathe. Yes, Janice, breathe in and then out, but not too quickly or you’ll pass out and create more talk for that one horse town than it can handle.

  “Good,” he smiled. “You know, I was surprised to see you here tonight.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Me too, I mean, me… I was surprised to see you here too.”

  “I don’t come out often, but sometimes it’s nice to get away from it all.”

  Momentarily fascinated by his hands, I watched his fingers curl around the neck of his beer bottle and could almost remember how they’d felt against my skin at the funeral. In a world spinning out of control he’d been a brie
f moment of comfort. There was a thick callus along his index finger, and though his hands were clean the evidence of how hard he worked was all over them.

  “It is nice to escape sometimes.” Good grief, one would think I’d never been attracted to a man before, or even spoken to one for that matter.

  “So, are you still planning to escape back to that big city of yours by Sunday?”

  I swallowed, “Yeah, that’s the plan for now.”

  “Plans change,” he shrugged.

  “They could, but I really don’t know that I could take any more time off from my job without getting fired.”

  “You write for some big paper out there, right?”

  “The Tribune-Review.” There was enough pride in my tone that even I recognized it, and for a moment I felt ashamed.

  “We’ve got newspapers here too.” I wasn’t quite sure what that was supposed to mean, and before I had a chance to ask him, Gabby returned with my drink. He watched me tear the paper from the top of the straw and take a long drink before continuing with this thought. “Don’t you feel a little more forgiving of the town now? I mean, now that you’re mom’s passed away…”

  “I don’t understand what you mean,” but I did. For the most part I was blown away he sensed the issue I’d been struggling with since Sunday.

  “We all wanted to get away from this place,” he pointed out. “It’s like some kind of switch turns on in every single one of us from the time we see our first big city on TV. But once you’ve had a taste of the city, of how cold and indifferent it can be to you and your dreams…”

  “Poor Anne Marie,” Becky seemed like she’d come up out of nowhere and though the news she brought was grievous, I was more than happy to see her. “She got sick in the parking lot.”

  “Oh no,” I looked away from Troy, grateful for the moment’s reprieve from his intensity.

  “She gets migraines, and it doesn’t really help with all the cigarette smoke in the air,” she explained, resuming her seat on the other side of me.

  The three of us were silent for a moment, and then Troy asked, “Did you want another drink, Becky?”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that, I was just teasing outside.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” he grinned, pushing away from the table. I watched him rise against the dim and smoky background, a strong shadow against the sporadic dance floor lighting.

  “Well, if you insist,” she gave in. “I’ll have one more White Russian, please.”

  “One White Russian coming up,” he started toward the bar. It could have been my imagination, but I swear he winked at me before he walked away. I could use that as an excuse, I decided, following the perfect fit of his Levi’s halfway across the bar before until Becky reached over and slapped my shoulder.

  “Good grief, girl, for someone who doesn’t want to make herself known, you’re sure as hell giving yourself away there!”

  “I thought he winked at me.” I reached for my drink and brought the straw to my lips without taking my gaze from Troy. “Besides,” from the corner of my eye, I noted that she was staring too, her head tilted slightly to the left, “how can you not look at that?”

  “Yeah,” a sigh escaped her. “I see what you mean,” and within seconds the two of us burst into laughter and turned back into the table. “Great! Now you’ve got me doing it.”

  “You can’t blame me,” I shook my head. “It’s the jeans.”

  “Great scapegoating,” she held up her hand for a high five. “So what were you two talking about?” She asked. “The conversation seemed like it was getting pretty deep when I ruined it.”

  “You didn’t ruin it,” I assured her. “We were just talking about forgiving the town or something. I don’t remember.”

  “You know, you probably aren’t gonna remember your own name by the time you finish that drink,” she mused.

  Another strawful, and I pulled the half-empty glass away to inspect it. “You’re probably right. Don’t let me make an ass out of myself, if you can help it.”

  “I’ll do my best, but I don’t know how many promises I’ll be able to keep after this next drink.”

  Not feeling reassured, I noted that the light numbness in my head had grown into a full facial tingling. There was one good thing about being drunk, I realized. My confidence would start to kick in. In fact, just realizing that made me sit up a little straighter, while my mind started plotting ways I could prove to Troy that he didn’t make me as nervous as he thought he did.

  Maybe I’d ask him to dance if they played another slow song. I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined melting against his chest as wrapped his arms around me. God, I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d danced with someone. Had it really been senior prom? Surely I’d been out in the city, danced with someone, but all memory seemed to have escaped me. That did it then! If the DJ dared play another slow song, I’d go for it. I’d ask him to dance, and then he’d see I wasn’t nervous.

  “Here you are, Madame,” Troy’s shadow preceded him, and I opened my eyes to look up at him. He slid a glass across the table to Becky and resumed his seat. “One White Russian.”

  He was still carrying the same beer he’d had when he first joined us at the table. “You’re not going to have another drink?” I gestured toward the bottle.

  “Oh, no,” he shook his head. “One’s my limit when I have to drive.”

  “You have to drive?” Becky dropped her straw on the table and took a small taste of the creamy drink in front of her.

  “Walking isn’t an option when you live out as far as I do.”

  “Maybe you could give Janice a ride home.” Under the table my foot shot out on instinct and connected with what must have been her shin. She winced and tried to hide the shock of it, then added, “Janice and me, I mean. ‘Cos we were just gonna get a cab.”

  “I can take you both home whenever you’re ready.”

  “Then that’s settled.” She avoided my glare and pretended to be interested in one of the ice cubes in her glass, but there was a sly grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. I was definitely going to get her back someday.

  An awkward quiet moved among us, and for a moment I concentrated on the music. The final chorus of some Aerosmith song faded, only to be replaced by the steady admission of country singer Toby Keith, who almost said, “I love you…” The slow trickle of piano keys followed, and my inner promise of drunken confidence reminded me that I was going to ask Troy to dance the next time a slow song came on. Couples were already shuffling onto the dance floor, and the lights dimmed to a slow, romantic pulse.

  I reached for my drink and took several long, through-the-straw sips, then set my glass down on the table. My dying brain cells were abuzz with the chaos, and in my newfound, drunken empowerment, I leaned across the table and asked, “Do you want to dance?”

  For a moment he seemed taken aback by the question, and I couldn’t stop the grin that followed. That’d teach him to ask if he made me nervous. In fact, it seemed like a good time to turn that question right back on him. After the shock wore off, he pushed the chair away from the table again, and held his hand out to me in silent acceptance. I took it and followed his lead onto the dance floor.

  I didn’t have to look back over my shoulder at Becky, I could sense her giddiness, or maybe it was my own. I’d never felt so many butterflies all at once, and I started to get scared that I was going to faint again. Troy swayed to the music and drew me close to him, left hand clasped my right and he drew me close with the other. Sounding alarms inside warned me to stay stiff and keep a respectable distance, but I relaxed against him with a sigh, and laid my cheek against his shoulder.

  “You’re full of surprises,” he lowered his head against mine.

  “It’s probably not really me,” I said. “You can blame it on the alcohol.”

  “You know what they say about alcohol and truth.”

  “I certainly would never have even thought of doing this if I were
sober.”

  “So I do make you nervous then?”

  I turned my face into his chest to hide the grin that would give me away.

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” he said.

  “What about you? Do I make you nervous?”

  He was quiet for a minute, and I wondered what his face looked like. “I won’t lie,” he started.

  Becky’s hand on my shoulder pried us apart, “I’m so sorry, it’s just that Marty just called and asked if I could come home.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Troy still had one hand firmly resting on the small of my back while the other clasped my own.

  “It’s Brennan,” she explained. “Galen was sick last week, I guess now it’s Brennan’s turn, and of course they never want Daddy when they’re sick.”

  “Oh no.”

  “If you guys want, I can just call a cab.”

  “No way, Becky,” I shook my head. “If you need to go...”

  Troy agreed, “We can leave right away.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He drew away, but still clasped my fingers for a moment, as if reluctant to let go. “Just let me grab my jacket.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The chill of the night air had a sobering effect as the three of us walked across the parking lot to Troy’s Ford pick-up truck. My face and head still felt numb against the cold, but I was also achingly aware of a raw feeling in my stomach from all that alcohol. Tomorrow was not going to be good, I could already sense as much. Becky and I stood huddled close as Troy walked around and climbed up into the driver’s side, leaning across the cab to unlock the door. Of course, Becky insisted that I hop in first and wedge myself between the two of them in the front seat. I strapped into the lap belt and crossed my arms against the cold as the truck roared to life.

  It wasn’t a brand new truck, but it had that new car smell about it. I didn’t move as his arm shot in front of me to turn down the radio, and I realized that would be nothing compared to the closeness we’d share once he started shifting gears. All part of Becky’s secret plan, I assumed, looking over at her with a hint of vengeance that quickly faded when I noted the worried expression she wore. Lower lip between her teeth, she watched out the window as we started down the road, and Troy made his first apology for shifting into my knee.

 

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