by Joanne Ganci
“See. This is new for her. She’s going to need some time to wrap her head around it. Let her have some time.”
“Mama, I don’t know—”
“Just trust me. I’ve never steered you wrong, and I don’t plan on starting now,” she chides, leveling me with a glare. “You better clean that plate before you get to work. Think about what I’ve said while you’re out there.”
∞∞∞
I’m up before the sun again. I will say, this is the one thing I didn’t miss about living on a farm. When I was in Nashville, I never woke up before 9 AM, on principle alone. Unfortunately, I have a lot more on my plate today with one of the farm hands out, so I make my way outside, grabbing a couple granola bars on the way.
While working yesterday, I thought long and hard about what Mama said. I never thought about it that way, but she was damn right. Lydia and I don’t know the grown versions of each other, not really. I still believe in my whole heart that this woman was made for me, but a lot needs to happen before I can get her back.
After turning out the horses for the day, I go back to the stable to start my daily routine: mucking out the stalls, then changing the water and feed. Once that’s done I move over to the chicken coop to collect the eggs the hens laid, bringing them to the barn. There, I go through the process of packaging them and stacking them in the crates for the farmers market.
I check in with Tommy, the foreman, to make sure that everything is going well with the crop harvest. He’s been handling the booth at the Farmer’s market while I got situated, but I’ll be picking that up next weekend. I go over all the details of this past weekend's sales and any issues he faced. Thankfully they were minor, and he handled them well. “Thanks, Tommy. It means a lot to me and Mama that you’ve done this for us.”
“Max, I’ve been working for your family nearly as long as you’ve been alive. I’d do anything for y’all.”
I shake his hand and clap him on the back, “Would you just let me thank you, old man?”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t you have some work to do, boy?”
“Not much with how well you’ve been running things!” He laughs and shakes his head, and I leave him to keep doing his thing. Dad always said, treat your employees like family, and they’ll treat your business like their home. And in our community, that equates to the utmost respect.
When I get done with my list of things for the day, I realize I still have a few hours before dinner. I decide to take on rebuilding the fence on the south side of the property. That will give me a chance to think over what to do about winning Lydia back. But most importantly, more work will kill time and prevent me from jumping in my truck and going to see her. I know Mama’s right, but that doesn’t make me want to see her any less. Patience was never my strong suit, but I’m willing to work on it if it means getting my girl back.
Max
20
I really hope six days is long enough. I’ve been going out of my mind, trying to decide when the right time was. By the time I got done with work today, I was itching to see her. I figure if she’s open to the idea, I’ll take her out for a proper date tomorrow. Maybe we can make it a thing, Friday night dates. After I graduated, we didn’t get much opportunity to go out on any dates, one of us was always busy, between her senior year, and my farm work and gigs, we only really got to steal away a couple hours at a time. Most of that was spent lounging in our spot by the oak tree.
Hopping in my truck, I drive down to the library without actually considering the time. Now I have about an hour to sit here before Lydia actually gets out of work. Running my sweaty palms down my blue jeans, I realize I probably should have gotten changed. A dirty t-shirt and jeans probably aren’t the best things to wear when you’re attempting to win your girl back. There isn’t enough time to go all the way back to the farm now. But there is enough time to pop into the store and grab her some flowers.
Switching the ignition off, I get out of the truck, and start walking down main street. I pull my ball cap down, in an attempt to keep the bright Florida sun out of my eyes. When I get inside, I wave to Mikey, same as I’ve done every time I’ve walked into Midland Grocers. In fact, this is exactly what I did the first time I asked Lydia out.
October 2 - Twelve Years Ago
“Hey, Mikey.” I throw him a quick wave, and make a beeline to the produce department in search of the perfect bouquet of flowers. When I reach the display, I start pouring over my options. I don’t want to go with roses. They’re too cliche. Lydia is different, special. None of these bouquets scream Lydia. But there is one that is a nice mix of different flowers. It’s pretty and stands out among the rest of them, just like her. I grab that one and make my way to the checkout counter.
“Ahhh, nice choice. These for your mama?" When I shake my head no, he plasters a wicked grin across his face. "Whose mama are you going to give a heart attack, taking their baby girl out?” Mikey asks.
“Well, I hope there aren’t any heart attacks, but I’m asking Lydia Lancaster out,” I say, proudly.
“Good for you, boy. That Lydia is a good one. A bit feisty, but I suspect you don’t mind that one bit. You prepared to deal with all them brothers of hers?”
My heart sinks, and my eyes nearly pop out of my skull. “I honestly hadn’t thought of that, sir,” I stammer out.
His booming laughter seems to fill the entire store. “Don’t look so scared now. As long as you treat her with respect, I’m sure they won’t rough you up too bad,” he reassures me with a wink. I’m not sure how reassuring that was, but I think he meant well.
I pay for the flowers and take them from the counter. “That won’t be a worry. I wouldn’t dream of treating her any other way. Respect is what she deserves. Plus, Dad would beat the snot out of me if I ever treated a woman with disrespect.”
“That’s ‘cause your father is a good man. Glad to hear he’s raisin’ you right. Good luck, kiddo.”
*
Flowers in hand, I check my phone for the sixth time in the last several minutes. 6:12. Lydia’s little purple car is the only vehicle left in the lot, other than my truck. She should be walking out of those automatic doors any second now.
My heart is pounding.
There is a significant chance she’s going to run right past me again. I honestly don’t know what I would do if she did.
“Dammit!” That’s not a good sign. My gaze darts over to the big glass doors, where Lydia is standing, digging in her purse and cursing to herself. I chuckle and a grin splits my face. I don’t think she’s noticed me, her expletives are aimed directly at her purse. She must have lost her keys.
I had planned on staying back and giving her the option to approach me, but as soon as I see her it’s as if there's a mystical pull, drawing me to her. She drops down to the ground and dumps the contents of her bag onto the concrete, searching frantically. When I’m a few feet away, I clear my throat. I don’t want to startle her. She jumps and scrambles backwards. So much for not scaring her. “Dammit, Max! Why are you sneaking up on me?” she hisses out.
“Blondie, I tried my damnedest not to scare you.”
“Well, you failed. Miserably.” The irritation in her tone doesn’t match the smile she has across her face. The sight of that smile causes my entire body to relax. I don’t think I realized the extent of my nerves until then. “What are those?” she asks skeptically.
I’m so mesmerized by the fact that she’s not running away, I almost don’t catch her question. “Oh. These? Blondie, surely you know what flowers are?”
“Har har. Of course, I know what flowers are. I guess the better question would be, why do you have them?”
“They’re for you, Lydia.”
“Oh.” She looks shocked. “That makes sense. Sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve received flowers from a man.”
“I know you must have seen other men. There’s no need to spare my feelings, Blondie.”
“Of course I’ve seen other men,” she scof
fs. “They just weren’t the flower giving type of men, I guess.”
I’m torn between rage and relief, thinking she hasn’t received flowers in the past nine years. I know I might be a bit old-fashioned, because that was how I was raised, but I don’t understand how a man could take someone as special as Lydia out and not bring her fucking flowers. I’m guessing they certainly didn’t treat her with the respect she deserves and that thought brings me a lot further into the rage side of the spectrum. I force myself to take a deep breath and tamp down my anger. “You deserve flowers! Every man that even dreamt of takin’ you out should have done so much more than bring you flowers. You love flowers. Clearly they didn’t take the time to find that out. I’m sorry, that just doesn’t sit right with me.”
Her mouth ticks up at the side, “So...you gonna give me these flowers that I deserve so much?”
“Right,” I laugh, “I should probably do that shouldn’t I?” I reach my hand out to help her off the ground. She slips her delicate fingers into mine, and I pull her up a little too forcefully. She stumbles a bit and falls into me. My other hand is full, with the flowers, but I wrap my arm around her, anyway. I nudge her slightly closer into me. With her hand splayed out across my chest, her gaze crawls up until our eyes lock. Staring into those deep blue pools, I see my future. Come hell or high water, I’m gonna marry this girl.
“Go out with me.” I meant to say it as a question, but there’s no taking it back now. And I wouldn’t even if I could. “Tomorrow night. You and me, Blondie.”
She shakes her head, “I can’t.”
“One date. That’s all I’m askin’. Anything you want to do.”
“Max, I really can’t—”
“Lydia, I am so fucking sorry for the way we ended. I’m back. I’m right fucking here, and I ain’t going anywhere. I’ve missed you every single fucking day for over nine years. I don’t want to keep missin’ you. I want to be with you more than I want my next breath. Just give me one date. If you don’t want to keep seein’ me after that, I’ll back off. I can’t promise to stop loving you, but I won’t pursue you.” She just stares at me. Not blinking. Her mouth is slightly parted, and we’re so close I can feel her breath spread across my cheek with each exhale. “So...what d’ya say? You in, Blondie?”
She blinks rapidly for a moment, then her mouth opens and closes. I mentally begin preparing myself for rejection when she starts...laughing. Damn. I drop my hands away from her, and she takes a step back, her hand snapping to her mouth in an attempt to control her laughter. My heart sinks. Not only is she rejecting me, she literally just laughed in my fucking face. She looks up at me and swoops in closer, one hand on my face, the other resting on my shoulder. “No. Max. I’m so sorry. I was trying to tell you that I can’t go out with you tomorrow. We do Friday night dinners, so I can’t go out with you tomorrow.”
“Oh,” I sigh in relief.
“I’m glad you interrupted me, though. That was sweet.”
“Well, does this mean I can take you out on Saturday?”
“I mean, I guess,” she says blandly, shrugging her shoulders. Despite how hard she tried to come off nonchalant, the huge smile that creeps over her face gives me my answer. Not only has she agreed to go out with me, but she might even be excited about it. Without thinking, I grab her in a massive hug and swing her around. She lets out a giggle, and I’m brought back to so many years ago. I hope we can get back to that. Once I stop swinging her, I push my hand into her wavy blonde hair and pull her in. We crash in a fiery kiss. One I hope conveys how much I truly want this. How much I want her.
When we pull apart, I can’t help the massive smile spreading across my face. “I should get goin’, Blondie. I’ll see you Saturday. I’ll pick you up at seven.” After dropping one more quick kiss on her delicious lips, I pull away and start walking back to my truck. When I get there, I realize I still have the fucking flowers. Shit. Turning right back around, I see her standing there laughing at me. I mentally smack myself when I realize all of her stuff is still scattered on the ground. “They’re a little worse for wear, but still yours if you want them,” I tell her, holding out the flowers.
She chuckles and reaches out, accepting the ruined bouquet. “Of course I still want them. Thank you, Max.”
“You’re welcome, Blondie. I promise next time I get you flowers I won’t ruin them before I give them to you. Let me help you with your stuff.”
“Ugh. I totally forgot about that. I can’t find my damn keys.”
“Don’t worry, Blondie. I got you,” I tell her with a wink, before dropping down to the ground. Searching through the various items she has laid out, I try my damnedest to find her keys.
“I probably left them inside. Dammit.”
“I can tell you two things. You carry weird shit around with you and there are definitely no keys here,” I inform her, as I put all the items back into her bag.
“Hey! Everything I have in there is a vital necessity,” she insists.
“How exactly is a package of baby wipes a vital necessity? You have a secret baby I haven’t seen or heard of?”
“No, you idiot! That is probably one of the most important things in my purse, though. Everyone should carry baby wipes with them.” I raise my brow and look at her skeptically. “You poor narrow-minded man. I wear makeup. I can clean off my face with them. How about the cart at the grocery store? So gross. Mess on a table at a restaurant? Easily fixed. You can do so much with a baby wipe. They’re for much more than wiping a baby’s ass.”
I chuckle and put the very important baby wipes back in her bag, rolling my eyes. “Okaaaayyyyy…” She smacks me in the back of the head. “Hey! What was that for?”
“Don’t roll your eyes at me!”
“I wasn’t even looking at you, how could you possibly know I was rolling my eyes.”
“It’s like a sixth sense, I always know when someone is rolling their eyes at me.”
“I’m sure that’s exactly it,” I laugh. Without looking up, I know she’s glaring at me with her hands poised on her hips. “Blondie, put your sass away. There is no eye rolling going on.”
“Better keep it that way, mister,” she says sternly.
When I get the last of her things into her bag, I grab the handle and stand up. “Damn! How do you carry this thing around? I’d ask if there was a brick in here, but I already know its entire contents. Don’t worry, by the way, I won’t ask about the Duct tape. Plausible deniability and all that.” I wink at her, and duck out of the way of the blow I saw coming a mile away.
“You’re an ass. You know that, right?” she asks, snatching her purse away from me. “Thanks for picking my shit up. I guess I have to go back inside to search for my keys. I’ll see you later.” She smiles at me and starts walking back to the sliding doors.
The doors. “Hey, Blondie! Check your pocket.”
Her steps falter, and she brings her palm up to smack her forehead. Slowly she reaches into her pocket, and I hear the clang of keys immediately. “I used them to lock the door. Dammit.” She turns around, with a sheepish grin on her face. “I never put them in my pocket, I swear.”
“I can’t believe you still lose your keys in the most obvious places. You probably should have learned by now.” I chuckle, remembering the countless times we searched for her keys when we were together.
“Oh, don’t even start with me. It could happen to anybody.” She starts at a brisk walk toward the parking lot. I probably shouldn’t poke the bear, but she’s so fucking cute when she’s mad.
“Nope,” I say, draping my arm over her shoulder. “Only you.” She tries to shrug me off when we get to her car, but I draw her into me, pressing her up against the side of her car. “Blondie, I’m kidding.” She huffs, staring off to the side. I grasp her chin between my fingers, turning her head, so I can look into those baby blues. “I’m kidding.”
“Whatever. I gotta go, Max.” She rolls her eyes and averts her gaze.
“Blondie…�
��
“What?!” she barks. At least it got her to look directly at me.
“You’re cute when you’re pissed off.”
“Fuck off.” The slow smile that creeps over her beautiful face lets me know she really isn’t that pissed anymore. Mission accomplished.
“I’m about to. But I’d like to kiss you again, if that’s okay?” I ask, caressing her cheek.
“You’ve never stopped to ask before.”
“Hm. You have a point.” I lean in slowly, giving her a chance to deny me. When she parts her lips and her eyelids drift shut, I take that as the invitation I was waiting for. Pressing our lips together, I take my time to savor her. My tongue darts out, and I can taste the cherry chapstick I saw in her things. She opens up to me, and I let my tongue glide into her mouth, twining with hers. The hand I’ve had on her cheek slides back into her hair and my other moves to grasp her hip, tugging her towards me. I get lost in the kiss, feeling as though I’ve slipped into a time warp. Her lips are so familiar to me. I could be somewhere in my past, when I was surrounded by the love of my life on a daily basis. Or maybe this is a taste of the future. A forever with my woman. In reality, it’s all of those combined. Because we’ve been apart for so long, I think I’ll always kiss her like it could be our last. And with Lydia, every kiss has always felt just as magical as our first. That zing of pleasure and the wonder of possibilities this one kiss could lead to. I feel it all with her, always.
I pull back, pecking her lips once more before staring into her eyes. “I’ll see you Saturday, Blondie. Thank you for giving me a chance.” Backing away, I revel in the happy, love drunk look in her eyes that my kiss left her with. I know we’re nowhere close to that, but a guy can hope.
Just before I close the door on my truck I hear a whispered, “Bye, Max.” I watch on, as she gets into the purple car that fits her so well, before driving off with a massive grin on my face.
Lydia
21