Fall for You: Boys of Alabama

by Mica Halstead

  “Alexandra Renee Carter, you were supposed to call me when you got to your new place last night and I haven’t heard a peep from you. I’ve been worried sick young lady.” I laugh a little at that. Did I forget to mention that Ronnie Vaughn is old enough to be my grandmother?

  “I’m sorry, Ron! By the time I got the keys and found the place it was midnight and I was so exhausted from the drive I just crashed. Forgive me?”

  “Of course I forgive you, child but next time call me. Tryna give an old lady a heart attack. Now, tell me about your day.” Ronnie is nothing if not nosy, so I proceed to tell her all about my day, minus the Ford James part.

  “Now I know you’re hiding something from me. I can tell by the tone of your voice. But that’s okay, you don’t need to tell me right now. I’ll beat it out of ya when I come visit.”

  “Ronnie, you are NOT driving down here to visit me. That is a long ass drive and I know you tend to forget but let me remind you - you are eighty years old,” I gently remind her of her age because I swear on all that is good this woman thinks she’s twenty.

  “Oh baby, don’t you worry about me. We will figure it out. Now what about the no-good-ex of yours? He staying gone?"

  I sigh heavily. "Yeah Ron, he's staying gone. I'm scared every day that he's going to find me." Finally admitting out loud something that’s been eating at me. It’s been years but I’m still afraid he’s going to decide to come after me.

  "You listen to me, Alexis, and you listen to me good. You escaped the pits of Hell with nothing more than the clothes on your back... Do NOT let that man have any more of your life, you hear me?" Her voice catches at the end.

  "I hear you, Ronnie," I say, a sob escaping me. "I Iove you. Talk soon, k?"

  Ronnie has been so good to me. I love her so much and she deserves all the happiness in the world. Her husband died from a massive heart attack when he was 60 and she was 58 so she’s been alone for a long time. Plus she’s spent the last four years practically raising me.

  The kitchen in my cottage is tiny, the stove and oven are set right into the cupboards to save space. It has a small island in the center for extra counter space that doubles as a bar. I fling the fridge door open to grab the bottle of wine that I stashed in there last night as soon as I got in, because priorities. Peeling the foil paper off the top of it and twisting the top off to take a swig right from the bottle, a sense of peace settling over me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt at peace.I grab my keys from the marble countertop that I sat them on along with my white zin, kick off my flip flops, and make my way back to the living room. Plopping down onto the floor cross legged, I use my keys to open one of the three boxes that are stacked in my living room, when you’ve spent the last four years hiding from your abusive ex fiance you learn to not hold on to too much.

  This box happens to be full of clothes. My wardrobe for work is slightly limited since I spent most of my money to get down here to Alabama and secure this cottage but that’s okay. I’m here and I’m alive and that’s really all that matters. I keep digging until I find what I know is nestled in between all the thrift store shirts and slacks, the picture of me and Ronnie. Her wrinkly face smiling up at me like I’m her favorite person in the world and my arm wrapped so tight around her bony shoulders like I can’t fathom ever letting her go. I jump up and put the picture on the fireplace mantle and take a satisfied look around the mostly empty cottage. Here’s to the start of a brand new beginning.

  Ford

  I throw my truck into park, scrubbing my hands up and down my face. I should have been home hours ago but between football practice, meeting with the school principal to go over my curriculum for the school year, and trying to finish setting up my classroom, the time just got away from me. My shoulders sag as I exhale. Both kids are probably in bed and I didn’t even get to tuck them in. I roll my neck to release some of the tension and glance to the right. There’s a jeep parked in the driveway of the house next door that’s been empty. I usually keep an eye on it for Mrs. Jenkins, the lady that owns it. Mostly mowing the yard and small repairs for tenants when it’s rented. I forgot she called me last week to tell me someone was moving in. I made a mental note to go over and introduce myself sometime this week.

  I grab my messenger bag and my gym bag and jump out of my truck, quietly shutting the door so I don’t wake the kids. I swear, Aria knows the sound of my truck door and the last thing I need is a grumpy five year old on her first day of kindergarten tomorrow. Jesus Christ. Kindergarten. When did my baby grow up? Grabbing my mail, I make my way up the wooden steps to my wrap around porch.

  “Oh sweetie, you look exhausted.”

  “What the hell, ma?!” I stumble, almost losing my footing and barely make it up the top step. I look over and she’s sitting on the porch swing in the dark. “You trying to give me a fucking heart attack?” I spit out. She throws her head back and laughs.

  “Sorry baby, I thought you saw me sitting up here. I got both the kids down about an hour ago. They were pretty disappointed you weren’t here to tuck them in on their last night of summer vacation.” She shoots me a little look that I know means she’s disappointed in me as well.

  “I know. Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t get much of my room set up this morning with both of them there, then I had practice.” I drop my bags on the porch and flop down into the swing next to her, slinging my arm around her shoulders. “Then I had that meeting at six with the principal and I meant to just go up to my classroom and arrange a few desks but then I started sorting through shit and time just got away from me. I’m sorry. I really am trying my best here, ma.”

  “Oh Crawford,” I wince at the use of my full name, “I know you’re doing the best you can, but you’re running yourself ragged trying to do it. I know you didn’t anticipate Zoe leaving you three like she did..”

  I cut in before she can finish her sentence, “Mom, please. I just can’t do this with you tonight. I’m exhausted and I need to get up early to get the kids and myself ready for our first day, I still need to shower and I haven’t eaten dinner yet…” before I can finish my sentence there’s an ear-piercing scream that comes from the now occupied house next door.

  “What the hell?” I mutter while jumping from the swing, vaulting over my porch railing and crossing my yard to the neighbors house.

  I bang on the door three times and when there’s no answer but more shrieking, I try the handle and the door swings open. “Hey!” I shout, making my way through the nearly empty living room towards the hallway where more shrieking and now some very colorful swear words are coming from.

  “Shit, mother fuck… oh my god. Make it stop. No, no you piece of shit. Not today, Satan! Not today!” I hear a voice chanting from down the hall. I chuckle a little as I make my way further and realize it’s coming from the bathroom. I glance around the doorway and well, well, well. If it isn’t the hot little number from school earlier. She’s dancing around outside of her shower, where the shower head has clearly busted off and there’s now a stream of water shooting all over the place, including on her. She’s in that same little tank top and shorts from earlier, only now her entire outfit is soaked. And judging from the view I’m getting of her backside, she isn’t wearing a bra.

  I prop my shoulder against the door jam and cross my arms over my chest. “Well howdy neighbor, what seems to be the problem?”

  “Ahhh!” Lex screams and whips around. Bad idea. Bad fucking idea. I was right when I said she wasn’t wearing a bra. She’s soaked through and I can see her tits through her white tank. And what a set of tits they are. Probably a 36 C. What? I’m a breast man. Her nipples are taut and poking through the shirt like they’re pointing directly at me. “What the fuck, Ford?!” her voice shakes me out of my thoughts and my eyes take their time finding hers. “How did you get in my house? You scared the shit out of me!”

  “Well, honey,” I start, stalking towards her, not even hiding the fact that my eyes are taking her all in, from her painte
d black toenails all the way up to the now soaked bun on top of her head. “I heard screams and thought someone was in trouble over here. So, being the neighborly guy that I am, I made my way over to investigate. I banged on your door and when I didn’t get an answer I turned the knob and came in. If you don’t want people in your house then you should probably make sure your front door is locked.” Her eyes are wide and her breathing has picked up. I lean in close to her, reach my hand out and make sure I graze her breast as I reach past her and shut the water off. “What are you doing anyways? Trying to flood your bathroom before you’re even completely moved in?” I manage to spit out before I take a step back from her, effectively putting some much needed distance between the two of us.

  She seems to snap out of whatever trance she was in and realizes her shirt is now see through. She crosses her arms over her chest, not yet realizing that all that manages to do is push her tits up a little bit farther and put them on display.

  “What?! No. I wasn’t trying to flood my bathroom. I was trying to take a damn shower and when I started the water this rusted up piece of crap shot off and water was going everywhere. I couldn’t get it to stop!” She screeches as she holds up a rusted old shower head. I take it from her hand, our fingers grazing each other and I feel a zap of electricity as I snatch it away from her. She stumbles, clearly thrown off by my sudden mood swing. Hell, I’m thrown off by my mood swing too. The piece that was holding the shower head onto the pipe is totally stripped and I proceed to tell her such.

  “Great,” she mutters, “just great. My first night in my new house and I can’t even take a damn shower. First day of work tomorrow and I’m going to be a screamin’ hot train wreck.” She props her hands up on her hips and drops her head back to look up at the ceiling.”Why me?” she murmurs, “can’t I get one stinking break?”

  I’m getting ready to interrupt her little pity party and let her know she can come over and shower at my place and that I can fix her shower head for her tomorrow after school when I hear the voice that deflates the erection that was quickly growing in my gym shorts.

  My mother.

  “Ford?! Crawford Winston James, is everything okay?!” I can hear her making her way through the house. I wince, again, at the use of my full name and glance over to Lex and she’s got this cute little smirk on her face. Crawford, she mouths at me. I narrow my eyes at her and give a quick shake of my head.

  “Ma, everything is fine. The new neighbor lady is just having a little trouble with her shower.” I call out as she rounds the corner of the doorway and comes to a stop. She has a worried look on her face when she glances at me and then at the piece of metal in my hand. Her eyes move up to my face and then cut over to Lex standing beside the tub with her arms still crossed. A slow smile works across my mom’s face and I can already see the wheels turning in her twisted little head.

  “Well my, my, my who do we have here? Oh sugar, you are soaked. You have to be freezing. Why don’t we just get you a towel, where are your towels at baby?” She drawls out while she’s glancing around the bathroom.

  Lex, trying to hide her embarrassment, tilts her head towards the hallway. “Uh, well, ma’am, the only towel I own is out there in the linen closet.” One towel? She owns one. Fucking. Towel. What the hell? Come to think of it, when I came in I only saw two, maybe three boxes in the living room. And I don’t recall seeing any furniture. I squint my eyes at Lex, attempting to make sense of the situation at hand. By the time I realize what’s happening my mother has a towel wrapped around her shoulders and she’s leading her past me out the door way.

  “Oh, ma’am makes me feel so old,” ma says as she walks Lex down the hallway. “Nina. You can call me Nina. Or ma. Whichever you prefer.” My mother looks over her shoulder and throws me a wink. I shake my head. Way to be subtle ma. Lex trips a little and starts stammering.

  “Oh. Well. Uh. Hmm. Nina, you said? Yes. Nina. That’s great, I think we’ll stick with that. Lexie Carter. I mean, Lex. Lex Carter.” She manages to spit out. Mom throws her head back and laughs.

  “Well Lex, what say we get you next door to Ford's house and get you that shower? Looks like yours is out of the commission for the evenin’, but don’t you worry. My Crawford is great with his hands and I’m sure he will get that fixed right up for you tomorrow.”

  By the time I realize what’s happening, my mother has made her way through the living room and out the front door, effectively walking my hot new neighbor next door to use my shower. What the hell just happened?

  Lex

  I step out of what has to be the nicest shower I’ve ever seen in my entire 27 years of life and wrap myself in the plush white towel that’s laying on the vanity. I’m trying to figure out how I got here. Twenty minutes ago I had just polished off a bottle of cheap off-brand White Zin and now I’m standing in Ford’s bathroom. And what a bathroom it is. Floor to ceiling glass panels encased the shower, with multiple jets on the walls and a glass bench seat. Matching his and her vanities sit opposite the shower. I run my hand across what looks and feels to be cement countertops. His and her vanities. Of course. He probably lives here with his wife. Ya know, the mother of his freaking children.

  A light knock at the door snaps me out of my trance. “Lex?” Ford’s deep voice cuts through the door, like a hot knife through butter. I grip the counter as the sound of my name on his lips slides through me. Good gravy, why is he so sexy? “I, uh, I got some dry clothes for ya. Do you want me to just leave em outside the door, or….” his voice trails off. He almost sounds nervous. I crack the door and peek my head out, reaching for the clothes.

  “Thanks,” I manage to squeak out. “I really appreciate this. Sorry to impose. Let me change quick and I’ll be out of your hair.” I reach my arm out, trying to grab the clothes without dropping the towel that I have secured around me. Ford tips his head and narrows his eyes at me.

  “Take your time, sweetheart. You don’t have to rush. Mom went ahead and took off but said to tell you it was nice to meet you. Go ahead and get changed. I’ll be downstairs.” He backs away with a small smirk. He scrubs his hand across his mouth and turns and walks out of the room. I’m practically fucking drooling he’s so hot. What the hell is wrong with me? His and her vanities, Alexis. He has children. He didn’t have those children alone. His wife has to be around here somewhere or on her way home. I shut the bathroom door and lay the clothes on the vanity, finishing drying off and changing quickly. I roll the sweats he gave me four times because they’re huge, and I’m practically swimming in the gray t-shirt he gave me. I bring his shirt up over my nose and inhale. Why do his clothes have to smell so good? I gather up all my things and hang my towel on the towel rack before making my way downstairs.

  What is that smell, I think to myself as I come around the corner at the bottom of the stairs. I peek into the kitchen that’s off to my left and find Ford pulling something out of the oven. My stomach growls. When was the last time I ate?

  I hear a low chuckle come from the kitchen. “Damn girl, when was the last time you ate? I can hear your stomach all the way over here.” Ford says as he turns around. He reaches his hand out and nods towards the clothes in my hand. “Gimme.” He says. And like an obedient dog, I hand the tank top and shorts over to him. He walks across the kitchen and turns the corner out of sight. I hear a dryer door slam and then kick on. He walks back around the corner and nods towards the bar stools that are placed around the island. “Grab a chair. I’m starving and there’s no way I can eat all of this lasagna myself.”

  I moan. No joke. I fucking moan. Because lasagna is my favorite. I slap my hand over my mouth and look up just in time to see Ford’s eyes darken. “Sorry,” I stutter. “Lasagna is seriously my fave. I haven’t had it in years.” Not since the last time I made it for Jason. He flipped the pan over on me and I had to go to the emergency room for second degree burns on my legs, but that’s neither here nor there.

  “Well, sit your ass down and I’ll grab us each a plat
e.” He saunters over to the counter where the food is and I pull myself up onto the barstool, wondering where his wife is and wondering what the fuck I’m doing having dinner with a married man. Wait. Is he married? I glance around the kitchen and it definitely looks like it’s been decorated by a woman. Floral prints and bright-colored dishes and utensils are scattered about in various places all over the counter. The farmhouse table has four chairs around it and looks very well loved. Ford turns around with both plates in his hand and sits one in front of me and one directly across from me. I glance at his ring finger as he pulls away. No ring. No tan line where a ring would be. He spins around and opens a drawer, I hear him rifling around, the door shuts and he turns back towards me with silverware in his hand.

  “Where’s your wife?” I blurt out. Ford snaps back like someone slapped him across his face.

  “Shit,” I say. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to just blurt that out. Sometimes I don’t think before I speak. It’s just the his and hers vanities upstairs, the kitchen looks like it was decorated by a woman, and well, you’re you. You have to have a wife hiding around here somewhere. Right? Unless…. Oh my god, unless you keep her locked in the basement?!” I seriously need to stop talking. Right now. I sound like a crazy person.

  He puts his hand on the counter and leans over to where I can only see the top of his head. His shoulders start to shake. He swings his head up and he’s laughing at me. Son of a bitch. This guy is laughing at me.

  “Sorry,” he says in between wiping his tears away because he’s laughing so hard. “Sweetheart, you have no filter. Why are you so interested in my life? Wait. Do you… oh my god. You think I’m hot, don’t you?” He smirks across the island at me. I can feel my face heating up.

  “Ew. No. God no. I think you’re annoying. You let yourself into people’s houses and I don’t know how your big ego fits inside this tiny kitchen.” I snap back at him. I jump from my stool, grab my plate of lasagna, spin around and storm through the house. I toss back over my shoulder, “Thanks for dinner, CRAWFORD. See ya never!” I fling the door open and shut it quietly behind me, because hello, his kids are probably asleep. Asshole, I think to myself as I make my way back to my cottage to enjoy my dinner and open another bottle of wine.