by Dodd, Lauren
“You’ll be fine,” she squeals. “Besides, Knox is going to be kind of rusty himself so it will be a good time for you to start.”
I feel the blood start to drain out of my face at the mention of her brother’s name. “Knox is going to be working there?”
“Just for the summer until he figures out which college he’s going to. I have to admit that he was instrumental in finally swaying Mom and Dad to hire you,” she admits.
My palms start to sweat and I’m glad I’m sitting down. “Knox wants me to work there?”
“He said it would be fun, the three of us together again. I’m sure it won’t last for long though, as soon as he starts whoring around again, he won’t have time for us,” she jokes.
How could I have been so stupid to agree to this without ever considering that Knox might work there? It would have been hard enough trying to hide this secret from Natalie all summer without Knox around but now I’m supposed to work closely with him every day and not let it slip out.
As I try to falsely match Natalie’s enthusiasm, I realize that I’m not really worried about the secret coming out. I’m worried that I’ll let it happen again.
******
After Natalie leaves, I realize that it has been a few days since I showered and I’m quite ripe. I strip down and step into the shower. As soon as the hot water rushes down my body I wonder how I could have forgotten how good this feels.
A million thoughts are buzzing around my mind as I lather up my hair and body. Most of them are about Knox. How in the world am I going to work so closely with him after the night we had together? I can barely stop myself from thinking about his strong hands running down my body right now.
I squeeze the remaining body wash into my hands and mentally remind myself to tell Mom I need more. Then I remember.
Mom is gone forever. She won’t be making any runs to Target to get me more body wash. All the tiny things she did every day that I barely noticed are now going to be continuous reminders that she is gone. I want to cry but I know that I can’t spend the rest of my life crying. I turn off the water and step out of the shower, feeling better as I resolve to quit sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I have to figure out some of the stuff that needs to be done around here to make Dad’s life easier. Mom did so much for us, I only wish I would have noticed it when she was alive.
I slip into a comfortable T-shirt and yoga pants and throw my wet hair into a ponytail. I head downstairs and grab a pad of paper and a pen from next to the phone to start a grocery list. I scribble down body wash as the first item then start going through the refrigerator and cabinets trying to figure out what we need. It doesn’t take me long before I realize I have no idea what I’m doing.
The doorbell rings and I cringe, not in the mood to deal with any weepy-eyed neighbors even though they mean well, I just can’t hear someone tell me for the millionth time that they are sorry. I consider ignoring it when Dad yells down from upstairs.
“Ripley, can you answer that? I’m getting ready to take a shower. I ordered us a pizza.”
My heart seizes in my chest knowing that we only order pizza from Mozzarella. I realize I’m being stupid. What are the odds that Knox would be delivering our pizza when he probably hasn’t even started yet? I make my way slowly to the door, wishing our solid oak front door was glass. I flip on the outside light and ease open the door to find Knox standing uncomfortably on our porch holding a pizza.
“Hey,” he says, his eyes cutting behind me, searching for Dad.
“Hi,” I stammer back, hearing the shower turn on upstairs. Knox must hear it too because his demeanor instantly changes.
“Ripley, we have to talk,” he says, handing me the pizza. I set it down on the table inside our front door and reach for the money Dad set there. I go to hand it to him but he refuses. I crumple it into my palm, step onto the front porch, then pull the door almost closed behind me.
“About what?” I ask, trying not to imagine his lips on my neck.
“About our night together,” he whispers through gritted teeth as he glances around making sure no one can hear.
As I stand there, physically holding back from throwing myself into his arms, I make a hard decision. I cannot betray Natalie again. I have to be the kind of person that would make my mother proud.
“Knox, it was one night. I had fun, but let’s not make this a thing. I was confused and lonely.”
I swear that I can almost see the wind get knocked out of him. He just stares at me as he tries to regroup. Could our night together really have meant something to him too?
“Ripley, I want to be with you. I’ve always wanted to be with you. Please don’t tell me that you didn’t feel the same that night. That wasn’t a one night stand,” he pleads, reaching for me. I will myself to jerk back although I really just want to fall straight into his arms. Hearing him say these things is like a dream come true, but it’s a dream I can’t allow myself to have.
“Knox, we can’t be together ever again,” I force out. “We’re going to be working together and Natalie can’t suspect anything. She would hate us both.”
He drops his head and I can’t help but wonder if this is all an act. I’ve never seen Knox get wrapped up in anyone, why would he have feelings for me? It doesn’t matter, I have to be strong and do the right thing.
He looks up, his intense brown eyes searching my unsure blue ones. “Is this really what you want?” He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he slowly comes closer to me. He reaches up and puts his right palm on the back of my neck, gently pulling my face toward his. He slowly brings his lips down on mine, never breaking eye contact until our lips meet. His tongue plunges into my mouth turning the embers between my legs into a full blown fire. My tongue dives into his mouth as my hands run all over his chest and back. Memories of our night together spin around us as he clutches me tighter. It is the best kiss of my entire life and I never want it to end.
I’m literally panting when Knox pulls out of our embrace. So much for doing the right thing. His eyes are smiling, knowing that everything I said was complete shit.
“I know you want to be with me,” he says confidently.
I hate myself for what I am going to do but if that kiss showed me anything it’s that I have no control of myself around Knox. I can’t be the person I need to be to make Mom proud.
“Knox, I didn’t say that I didn’t want to be with you, I said that I couldn’t be with you. A kiss isn’t going to change that.”
I wait for him to try and change my mind but he just backs away from me, gets in his car, and drives out of my life.
******
“So, Mozzarella, huh?” Dad says, grabbing a slice out of the pizza box. He grabs another slice laying it on top of his other one and carries his paper plate over to his recliner. He sinks down in his recliner and flips on the television for background noise.
“How did you know?” I ask, tearing myself off a slice. You would think after the whole interaction with Knox that I wouldn’t be hungry but I don’t think there is a time that I would ever turn down pizza from Mozzarella.
“Natalie’s mom called to make sure it would be okay. I thought it was really nice of her. They really care about you, Ripley.”
I can’t help but wonder if Knox cares about me, or if I was just a challenge, since I didn’t chase him like his usual conquests. I guess it doesn’t really matter.
“It’ll be good to make some money,” I reply, wiping grease off my chin with the back of my hand. It suddenly occurs to me that both Dad and I have been avoiding sitting down at the kitchen table since Mom died. All of our meals have been eaten either standing up or in front of the television. I guess neither of us can bear the thought of her empty chair.
“You don’t need to worry about money, sweetheart. We’re doing fine,” Dad reassures me, flipping through the channels even though I know once he settles on something his mind won’t allow him to concentrate on it.
“I’m not goi
ng to college in the fall,” I blurt out, figuring it will be easier to just get it out there, kind of like ripping a bandage off fast.
Dad drops the slice he was holding back onto his plate, he swings around to face me, his eyes bugged out unattractively. “Not this again. I just read an article that says you aren’t supposed to make any big changes after a loved one’s death for at least a year.”
“Right. Going away would be a change. I can still go to community college. I don’t want to leave you,” I admit.
“I don’t want you to leave either, Rip, but let’s just give ourselves the summer before we make any decisions. Deal?” The smile he is trying to force makes my stomach turn. He doesn’t want me leaving any more than I want to leave but even through his grieving he is trying to think of what is best for me.
“Deal,” I agree, knowing that my mind is already made up.
We spend the next hour dazing out in front of the television, both of us lost in our own thoughts. Finally, we walk upstairs together, parting ways at our bedrooms.
“I guess we won’t really see each other tomorrow,” Dad says. I can tell he is trying to be strong. We’ve been clinging to each other like life preservers and it isn’t going to be easy to separate.
“I’ll miss you, Dad.”
He pulls me in for a hug and plants a kiss on my forehead. “Same here. Sweet dreams, my beautiful girl.” He unfolds me and shuffles tentatively to his empty bedroom where Mom’s scent still hangs in the air.
I curl up in bed with my cell phone and dial a number I know it isn’t healthy to be calling every night before I fall asleep, but I don’t stop until I punch in the last digit. Mom’s soothing voice comes on the line telling me she isn’t available but urging me to leave a message. I leave her yet another message, a part of me wanting to believe that somehow she gets them, then tumble into another dreamless sleep.
Chapter Five
My phone rings, waking me up. I must have forgotten to turn it off after calling Mom’s voice mail last night. The unknown number that I now recognize as Tate’s comes up. I always thought I would do cartwheels if Tate ever called me, but all I feel is dread.
“Hello,” I answer groggily, part of me hoping that he’ll just hang up and never call again.
“Ripley? Hey, it’s Tate. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he rambles, clearly excited that I actually answered this time.
“Hi, Tate. Sorry about the other day. I don’t usually make it a habit to pass out or flee screaming from buildings,” I say, knowing he must think I’m a total loser. I bet his mom put him up to these calls just to check up on me. Suddenly, all the mothers in town feel the need to take care of me, which I should feel grateful for, but I just want my real mother back.
“I tend to have that effect on women,” he says, laughing.
It immediately lightens the mood and reminds me why I’ve been crushing on him.
“I really appreciate you calling to check up on me, but I’m fine,” I say, trying to cut the conversation short so that he doesn’t feel obligated to keep calling. He should be off enjoying what is left of our senior year, not worrying about me.
“Are you coming to school today? Because if you are, I thought maybe we could grab lunch together off-campus.”
Dad gave me a pass on school, telling me it was the last day I was allowed to blow it off. I was really looking forward to sleeping the day away but something in Tate’s voice makes me realize that this call isn’t just to be polite. He really does want to see me. I glance at the clock and realize that school starts in thirty minutes and I look and smell like a homeless person.
“I’m going to be a little late, but I’ll be there by lunch,” I say.
“Cool, let’s meet by the front door at 11:30.”
“Okay, cool,” I agree, numbly. Is Tate really asking me out after all this time? Something resembling excitement starts to rumble in my belly.
“See ya,” he says and clicks off.
I pop out of bed and race into the bathroom, glancing into my parent’s bedroom, or I guess I should say Dad’s bedroom, to see that he is already gone for work. I spend an exorbitant amount of time in the shower making sure that I am squeaky clean for my lunch date with Tate. After applying my makeup perfectly and blow-drying and straightening my hair, I realize that I look a little too perfect for a casual lunch date. Nothing that can’t be fixed with my driver’s side window partially cracked on the way to school.
I pull on my favorite jeans and a V-neck turquoise T-shirt then layer it with my gray cashmere hoodie. I clasp the gold locket Mom gave me for my sixteenth birthday around my neck and slip my feet into a pair of lace-less sneakers. I grab my purse and phone and head downstairs.
I reach for my keys off the decorative hook on the wall that Mom installed and realize they are missing. It hits me for the first time that Mom was driving my car when she got into the accident and it was totaled. How could I have forgotten that?
She asked me the afternoon before the accident if I would mind switching her cars. Natalie and I laughed our butts off the entire way to the movie theatre that night driving Mom’s mini-van. I never did ask her why she needed my smaller Chevy Cobalt. I nearly drop to my knees as I am struck with the thought that if Mom would have been in her bigger mini-van, she may have lived through the accident. I steady myself against the wall and try not to throw up. All I can think about is crawling back into bed. But that won’t make any of this go away.
I can’t keep doing this to myself. Mom doesn’t get a do-over on being dead. I palm her keys, the photograph of the three of us on her keychain smiling back at me, and head toward her mini-van in the garage. Once there, I open her driver side door and slide inside, her scent enveloping me. I want to sob uncontrollably but I hit the garage door opener instead. The door slides open and I start the car, slowly backing down the drive.
As I make my way toward the school, I can’t get over how normal everything looks. People are walking their dogs and jogging. Mothers are pulling their toddlers in wagons. Nobody even cares that Connie Edgecombe doesn’t exist anymore.
I see a blue Toyota coming toward me and the driver is waving like crazy then, as she passes me, a look of utter devastation crosses her face. I recognize her from our library. I don’t even know her name but she and Mom loved to trade book recommendations. She must have forgotten, for just a split second, that Mom was dead then it all came crashing back to her. For some reason, this makes me feel good. Like Dad and I aren’t the only ones who miss her.
I slow down and turn into the parking lot of Jasper High. It is a fifty-year-old nondescript, brick building that taxpayers have repeatedly voted down a tax increase to renovate even though we still don’t have air conditioning like all the other area schools. Luckily, I won’t have to suffer through any more of those sweltering August days.
I pull in to park next to a brand-new Charger and rusted-out Ford pickup with a home spray-paint job. That’s the thing about Jasper. You’ve got dirt poor and filthy rich but we all get along pretty good. Our hallways aren’t perfect, but I think it is about as good as you can get with all these hormones from different social standings flooding the place.
I glance at the clock and realize that I’m between first and second period. Walking in here for the first time since the accident is going to be bad enough, there is no way I’m busting into a classroom already in full swing. My hands are starting to sweat just thinking about going in there. I don’t think I can do this. I’m not sure which stage of grief Natalie would say I’m going through right now but I feel like I might lose my shit.
I grab my phone to calm myself down and see that I missed a text when I was getting ready this morning. I pull it up and see Knox’s name and a very old picture of him sporting shaggy hair pop up. I didn’t even realize that he was still on my contacts list.
Please.
A one word text is all it takes to make me put the mini-van in drive and make my way back to the house where Knox is
living. I pull into the driveway of the big house and slowly wind around to the garage. I shove the mini-van in park and shut it off, knowing what a huge mistake I’m making before I even climb the stairs. If I was smart, I’d turn right around and go back to school. But being around Knox is the only thing that makes me forget the horrible reality of my life.
I can feel myself come alive as I climb the stairs to his door. I hate myself but tackle the stairs faster all the same. Once I reach the top, I take a deep breath, and for a second, I convince myself that I’m just here to talk, but the minute he answers the door, shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist, I know there won’t be much talking going on.
Neither of us says a word, our eyes burning into each other. He steps back into the loft, his eyes challenging me. He wants me to be the one to make the first move. I guess I can’t blame him after all my crap about us being a one night stand. I step toward him, into the loft, never taking my eyes off him. He closes the door behind me, brushing my arm with his bare shoulder. The energy between us could power the entire town.
“Say it,” he demands, moving to lean against the couch.
“Say what?” I ask, knowing full well what he wants to hear from me.
“Tell me you want me,” he challenges, the smoldering look he gives me practically melting my clothes off. I think about being indignant and spouting some nonsense about how I only rushed over here because of his text but I know how ridiculous it would sound. Besides, the protruding growth in the middle of his towel has captured all my attention and I can’t seem to form a complete sentence.
Wordlessly, I walk toward him, stopping just short of his erection poking me. Making sure he is watching, I stick my index finger in my mouth, slowly sliding it out then running it along the top edge of his towel. He gasps with pleasure.
“Today only, then whatever this is between us has to be over,” I demand.
“What if I can’t agree to that?” he says, grabbing my wandering hand.