Come Back for You: Boys of Alabama

by Mica Halstead

  “Happens every year,” Jax says, “Genevieve has to tag along because we know that no one will be able to pitch by the last inning.” He grins at her like a proud dad.

  She winds up, pitches the ball, and…

  “Strike!” The ump calls. Whitley huffs out a sigh, knocking her bat against the plate and taking her stance again. Gen winds up again, the whole crowd silent. We’re down by one point and if Whit hits a homerun then it’s game over. She releases the ball, and it sails towards home plate and crack! Whit makes contact and the ball is up and over the fence and everyone’s on their feet screaming. We Are the Champions plays over the loudspeaker as she rounds third base and heads home. I’m up and lifting her on to my shoulders as she clears home plate.

  I know I said it once but damn, it is good to be home.

  ***

  The wind whips through the truck as we fly down this old back road, one hand on the wheel, other hand out the window. This is what life is about. I glance over at Whitley, dark hair loose, blowing in the wind. She’s got her hand out the window, the Alabama humidity making her hair do that halfway frizzy thing that it always does.

  It’s dark out, just after ten on a Friday night. I may be eighteen with no curfew, but she’s two years younger and her daddy likes her home by midnight on weekends, so we’ve only got a couple hours left. I turn off the back road, bumping along down an old dirt road. She lets out a squeal because she knows what’s next. I park and cut the truck out as she leaps out, flip flops long forgotten and left in the truck, just the way she likes it. I grin and shake my head, following her to the bed, where she’s already pulling blankets and pillows out of my toolbox.

  I climb up after her and snag her by the waist, spinning around with her in my arms, and she squeals.

  “Dean, put me down!” She hollers, kickin’ her feet a little, but she isn’t fooling me any. She loves me.

  “Sure, you just have to pay the tax,” she shakes her head but obliges, pressing a kiss to my lips before dropping down onto the makeshift bed.

  “You’re such a dork.”

  “Yeah, but you love this dork.” She hums in agreement and we both lay down on the blankets she laid out, eyes pointed at the sky.

  The night is black, no clouds. Perfect night for stargazing, which just happens to be Whitley’s favorite pastime. She sighs, reaching for my hand and sliding her fingers through mine.

  “Thank you,” she says, and I roll my head towards her.

  “Whitley Jean, I don’t care what we’re doing, so long as I’m doing it with you.” She rolls to her side and smiles at me.

  “Do you…. Do you ever want more than Monroeville?” She asks and I think for a second, before shrugging my shoulders.

  “I mean, I guess so, yeah. But I don’t want more than you. And you’re in Monroeville, soo….” I trail off. I may graduate this year, but she’s still got two years left, and all my plans include her. I’d wait forever if I had to.

  “What if we just, took off when I graduate? I mean, I’ve got some savings from workin’ at the diner and you’ve been putting money back from the grocery store.” She says, hope written all over her face.

  “Baby, anywhere you are is where I want to be. So, if that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.” Her face lights up and she squeals, sitting up and pressing a kiss to my lips. We both lay back down, taking in the night. Staring at the stars, talking about anything and everything. I could talk to this girl forever and never get tired. My watch chirps, letting me know we’ve got twenty minutes to get her home before curfew.

  We quietly pack the bedding back inside the toolbox and when we’re done, I help her out of the bed, walking her back to the passenger side of the truck. I round the front and jump in, firing the truck up and Whitley slides to the middle of the bench seat, settling herself under my outstretched arm.

  “I love you, Dean Allen.”

  I love you more, Whit.”

  Little did we know, life had different plans in store for us.

  Whitley

  Every Thursday night is girls’ night. Some nights we go out and some nights we stay in, but we always make it a point to get together. It’s usually just Lex, Clarissa, Avery, and me but this week we somehow managed to convince Lainey to join us.

  Placing the last piece of cheese on the charcuterie board, I take a second to appreciate it before these vultures destroy it. I’ve added colby-jack and habanero cheese along with salami and pepperoni. There are crackers and pepper jam as well, the jam is my mama’s recipe and it’s to die for. Sighing, I grab the bottle of blackberry wine off the counter and head back to the living room with my tray.

  “Now listen, I worked real hard on this, so if y’all could just not destroy it that would be great,” I announce, laying the board on the coffee table and dropping onto the couch beside Clarissa, Lex’s best friend from Jersey. Avery and Lex completely ignore me, making a total mess out of it in thirty seconds.

  “She was so beautiful,” I whisper longingly and Riss pats my knee, handing me a glass of wine.

  “She really was,” she murmurs in agreement, pouring herself a glass of scotch. No wine for this chick, she only drinks the hard stuff but that’s pretty understandable given what she’s been through. A few months ago, at another girls’ night, she got pretty tipsy and spilled the entire story to us. She was raped at her yoga studio in downtown Jersey and the guy who did it has never been caught. She spent weeks living in fear, holed up in her apartment before she couldn’t stand it anymore. Hung a for sale sign up at her studio, packed everything she could fit in her car, and left town. She’s been here in Alabama ever since, first living with Lex and just recently taking over Lex’s cottage rental next door to Ford’s when she moved in with him.

  “You’re so good at these things,” Avery proclaims, snagging another cracker before dropping cross legged on the floor with her glass of wine. Lex comes back in the room with face masks and nail polish, laying everything out on the table.

  “Alright, Lainey. What’s your story?” Avery asks the question we’ve all been dying to know the answer to. Lainey sighs and looks around at all of us.

  “If you don’t want to tell us, you don’t have to,” Lex, ever the peacekeeper, says.

  “Speak for yourself. I want the deets.” Clarissa exclaims and Lainey laughs.

  “It’s really not that interesting,” Lainey says, sipping her wine.

  “Let us be the judge of that.”

  “Clarissa!” Lex hisses and Riss just shrugs her shoulders.

  “I’m just a recently divorced mom who moved to a new city for a fresh start.” She says, shocking us all.

  “Wait, you have kids?!” I screech, not believing that I didn’t know this. She’s been doing my hair for months. Lainey laughs.

  “Yes, I have kids. My son is thirteen and my daughter is five. Well, Rowan is my stepson. My ex-husband had a son from a previous relationship. Rowan’s mom died when he was just a baby and Tim is a total flake,” she gulps down some more wine, “so when we split, I put in the divorce papers that I wanted custody of Rowan, as well. Tim can have the kids on holidays and one month out of the summer, but Rowan needs stability, not a parent who forgets to pick him up from school because he’s too busy getting high with his friends.” She shrugs her shoulders.

  “How does Rowan feel about you having custody of him?” That question comes from Avery, who knows all too well what it’s like to raise kids that aren’t yours.

  “He’s okay with it. He knows Tim isn’t a great dad, plus he loves being a big brother and I couldn’t imagine how it would affect him to not see Belle every day.”

  “And where are you guys staying?” I ask and she blushes, rolling her eyes.

  “With my grandma,” is all she says, and we wait, waitin’ for more information. She huffs out a breath. “Polly Peters.” Avery gasps dramatically and I bust up laughing. Clarissa looks around the room at all of us, clearly confused.

  “I don’
t get it, what’s so funny?” Riss asks and I laugh even harder.

  “Polly is….” Lex trails off, searching for the right word. “Unique.”

  Avery joins me in laughing and Lex rolls her eyes.

  “Polly is the epitome of a town gossip,” Lex starts, and I snort. “Jesus Whitley, get your shit together.” She scolds me and that makes Lainey laugh.

  “Gossip is an understatement,” I say once I have control of myself. “She will tell anybody and everybody’s business and she always knows it first.” The girls murmur in agreement.

  “I think I need to meet her.” Clarissa says, sipping her scotch.

  “She’s one of a kind,” Lainey says, “but she’s the best grandma and great grandma. The kids adore her. She watches them while I work and they’re at home with her right now. She insisted I come out tonight.” We all talk amongst ourselves for a while, consuming more wine and cheese. I shoot Dean a dirty text, promising him some grade A head later, when Clarissa asks a question that has me choking on my wine.

  “So, just how big is Jaxson’s dick?” Clarissa says and Avery chokes on a carrot. Lex pats her on the back, handing her the bottle of wine. She sucks some down.

  “Fuck, Riss. Can you give a girl a warning before you ask unwanted questions about her boss’s dick?”

  “Oh my god, you have seen his dick!” Lex squeals and Avery’s cheeks turn pink. She’s barely twenty-two and we are not subtle women.

  She sucks in a breath.

  “Yesokayhefuckedmeinhisofficelastweek,” she says in a rush, trading the bottle of wine for the bottle of Scotch and pouring some down her throat.

  “Get it girl,” Lainey says, raising her glass in a toast.

  “Fuck yes!” I fist pump.

  “Thatta boy, Callaway,” Clarissa says, greedily taking the bottle of Scotch away from Avery. “Now, tell us all about it.”

  Avery sucks in a breath. “We were working late one day last week, he has a new client that he’s been working with and their finances were a mess, so it’s put him at the office later and later each day. I stuck around to finish up some filing since I was off from the bar. I popped in to see if there was anything he needed before I took off and one thing led to another and before I knew it, I was sprawled across his desk naked.” Her cheeks turn pink at the admission, and she huffs out a frustrated sigh.

  “But he’s been avoiding me all week. He’s already in his office when I get to work and he’s there long after I leave. I think maybe he regrets it.” Her eyes well up with tears and Lex wraps her up in a hug. We all know she’s head over heels for him, the only one who doesn’t see it is Jaxson. “Before that night, he was over at my place all the time. It was always under the guise of needing help with work stuff, but we never really worked. It was us up late, laughing after the kids went to bed. Him in my kitchen making dinner. Now I can’t even get him to open his office door.”

  “He’ll come around, sweetie,” Lex says, eyeballing me.

  Waiting until later, when Avery is distracted by Clarissa in the kitchen, I grab my phone and fire off a text.

  Whitley: I will castrate you.

  Jax: Well, hello to you too.

  Whitley: What the hell is wrong with you?

  Jax: Lots. Be more specific.

  Whitley: Uh, a certain secretary…. :eggplant emoji:

  Jax: Shit.

  Whitley: Yeah Jaxson, SHIT. What the hell?

  Jax: Stay out of it, Whit.

  Whitley: Bite me, Jax. My girl has a broken heart, and you seem to be the cause of it.

  Jax: Listen, it shouldn’t have happened.

  I see red. I growl just as Avery flops down on the couch beside me. I tuck my phone under my leg and grab the bottle of scotch, pouring myself a shot.

  “You okay?” She questions, brows furrowed. The scotch burns my throat and I cough a little as my phone vibrates again.

  “Fine, fine. Excuse me,” I leap off the couch with my phone and go to the bathroom, hitting dial as I shut the door.

  “I know, I know,” Jax groans on the other end of the line.

  “Don’t you dare tell me it was a mistake, because I will call Fred to come get me and drive me over there. He’d be an accomplice to murder, obviously, but he would be compensated well.”

  “I’m just not sure it should have happened, Whit. What if I mess it all up?” Genuine concern laces his voice. I sigh.

  “I mean, sure. It could all go to shit. But what if you don’t mess it up, Jaxson? What if it turns out to be the best thing to ever happen to you?”

  “It’s such a huge responsibility. It’s not just Avery, she’s got the kids, too. Am I ready to be a father figure?” I chew on his question for a few seconds.

  “Let me ask you a question Jax. I’m goin’ to assume you’re helping Gen with homework at night and readin’ books to Blake at bedtime. Am I correct?” He sighs, signaling that I’m right. “So, it’s safe to say you’re already playin’ that role in their life. What happens when you stop showin’ up?”

  Nothing but silence on the other end of the phone, though I know he’s still there.

  “I have to go. I think you maybe owe someone an apology.” I end the call and it’s not long after, when we’re all cuddled together on the couch watching a chick flick that Avery’s phone dings, and I can tell by the way her face lights up that it’s Jaxson.

  Dean

  Whitley and I stroll through town, hand in hand. Things are moving fast between the two of us, but I still want to treat her the way she deserves, so I asked her out on a date tonight. Picked her up from her place at seven and told her to wear something sexy. You could have knocked me over with a feather when her front door swung open and she was standing there in this deep purple dress, a long slit up the thigh, these platform wedge sandals that were doing great things to her ass, and her hair pinned up in this twisty bun, leaving her neck exposed. It took everything I had to not drag her inside and fuck the shit out of her before we left.

  I was able to keep my hands to myself though and we just finished dinner at the little restaurant in town and now she’s walking me through the square, pointing out new businesses that weren’t here before I left and some that were. Giving me the low down on the who’s and what’s of Monroeville since I’ve been gone. She nods her head towards a hair salon that never used to be there, the awning painted in bright swirls of color and a giant pair of scissors painted on the window.

  “That is run by a woman named Lainey. She blew into town about three years ago and opened up a shop. We invited her to girls’ night on Thursday and she came!” She steers me towards a little coffee shop and drags me inside.

  “Coffee at nine o’clock at night? What are we, eighty?” I grumble and she rolls her eyes, stepping up to the counter to order herself some foofy latte and me an Americano. There’s a guy behind the counter who looks like he’s stuck in the seventies. He’s wearing round sunglasses even though we’re inside and its night. He has on a tie dye shirt and I shit you not, flared jeans.

  “Who’s your man-friend, doll?” He asks, eyeballing me as he rings her up. Whitley hitches her thumb over her shoulder.

  “Leaf, this is Dean. Dean, this is Leaf. Him and his wife, Indigo, bought this place a few years back and turned it into the best coffee shop in town.” I choke a little at his name, but Whitley shoots me a glare.

  “He is fine, sugar. Where have you been hiding him?” Leaf asks as he goes about making our drinks. Whitley slides her arm around my waist.

  “He just moved back to town not that long ago and this is our first date night.” She shrugs her shoulders and I drop a kiss on her head, kicking myself for not thinking about taking her out sooner. There’s a commotion from the back, the sound of something shattering. He laughs and shakes his head.

  “Uh, is everything okay?” I question, raising an eyebrow and Leaf waves me off.

  “Oh, everything’s fine. My wife is super clumsy, she probably broke another plate.”

  “J
ust my bong!” I hear shouted from the back and Whitley coughs out a laugh.

  “Jesus Christ,” I murmur, “please don’t let Darla find out about these people.” I say quietly, referencing my mother. She’s always been one of those ‘free spirits.’ She smokes a lot of weed and only believes in herbal medicine.

  “Darla?!” Leaf sputters, “we just LOVE Darla.” I drop my head on a groan.

  “Of course, you do,” I mumble, and Whitley elbows me in the side.

  “Darn tootin’, she’s always got the best weed.” Whitley doubles over in laughter at his comment and Indigo shouts her agreement from the back somewhere. Leaf hands our coffees to us and bids us farewell.

  The main drag in Monroeville is this little town square, almost looks like something straight out of a movie. Planter boxes line most of the windows of the shops up and down the street, all filled with flowers bursting with color. After a short walk we find a bench to sit on and sip our coffees, taking in the warm night air. The humidity is still heavy even though it’s late. Being gone for so long, I had forgotten how humid Alabama can be. We’re silent for a long while, me with my arm stretched across the back of the bench, my hand toying with her shoulder. She leans against me and lets out a content sigh.

  “Happy?” I ask, sweeping her hair off her shoulder and dragging my hand down the slope of her neck, causing her to shiver.

  “Mmhm,” she murmurs, resting her head on my shoulder. “Do you... Do you ever think about how things might have been had things worked out the way we thought they would?”

  She’s asking a question I’ve asked myself a thousand times. What if Everly had lived? Would we still be one big happy family?

  “All the time,” I answer honestly, and I can tell by her face that my response surprises her.

  “Really?”

  “Of course, Whitley. Spent a lot of years running all the ‘what if’s’ through my head. What if Everly had lived? What if I wouldn’t have left town?” I shrug my shoulders and take a sip from my coffee cup. “I try not to live in that world, though. Stuck in my head. Do I wish things had played out differently? Hell yes. But even though it’s probably shit of me to say, I’m grateful for the time I spent outside of this town. Those years shaped me and made me who I am. Made me able to come back, ask for your forgiveness.”