It Was You
by Kim Hartfield
It Was You
Published by Kim Hartfield
Copyright © 2018 Kim Hartfield
All Rights Reserved
May not be copied or distributed without prior written permission.
Cover photo: © Deposit Photo
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One – Ella
Some families are normal. One husband, one wife, two-point-five kids, and a white picket fence. Mom cooks dinner every night, they all eat together while politely discussing their days, and then the kids wash up while Dad relaxes on the couch with a beer.
Then there are families like mine.
“Heads up!” Sam launched a snowball at my head.
I dipped down and grabbed a handful of the white stuff, ignoring the way it soaked through my thin gloves as I formed it into a ball. “Back at you, prick!”
Coco raced in front of him, jumping to slap the snowball down before it could find its target. “Not on my watch.”
“Oh, you’re taking Sam’s side, are you?” I advanced on my kid sister, picking up another handful of snow. “You two can team up if you want. I’m still going to take you down!”
“Not a chance,” Sam said, flicking loose snow in my direction. “I could take on both of you with my hands tied behind my back.”
“Yeah right, dipshit.” I kicked up a cloud of snow. “I’m the undisputed champion of snowball fights, in case you’ve forgotten since last year.”
He’d surprised me with a snowball on my way home from work every day, and it’d spiraled into a full-on war. My crowning achievement had been the time I waited for him to get home, letting him think he was safe, and then dumped a bucket full of snow over his head as soon as he came inside the house.
“Kids!” Mom called from the porch.
I turned toward her, my laughter fading. It was annoying that she still referred to us as “kids.” Sam and I were grown adults with jobs – I was twenty-four and he was twenty-one – even if we still lived at home. Coco was an actual kid, only nine years old.
“You need to watch your language,” Mom said, coming down the porch steps. “And for the record, I’m going to be the snowball champion in 2019.”
She raced toward us, perfectly molded snowballs already in her hands. She whipped one at Sam, hitting him smack in the face. Another flew at Coco, who was too stunned to duck.
Well, she wasn’t going to get me. I ducked – but she must’ve anticipated the movement, because next thing I knew I was spitting out snow.
“Dammit!” I yelled. “That doesn’t count.”
“Again, honey, language,” Mom said sweetly as another snowball hit me square in the chest.
Oh, well. I’d make lemons out of lemonade. “Since I’m wet anyway, I’m going to make a snow angel,” I said, flopping down to the ground. “And since you’re still dry, Madam Snowball Champion, you won’t mind making dinner.”
It was my night to make it. Sam and I usually traded off; cooking was one of the chores we did in order to live here rent-free. The deal worked out well for all of us. Mom always had someone around to look after Coco, which was a big help since none of our dads were around anymore. And Sam and I could save money instead of spending it on rent.
“Fine, I’ll cook,” Mom said. “I need one assistant, though. Somebody to chop and stir.”
If she was trying to imply that should be me, it wasn’t working. “I volunteer Coco,” I said, moving my arms and legs along the ground. “She needs to practice her skills more than Sam or me.”
“That’s not fair,” Coco said.
“Life’s not fair,” Sam said, flopping down at my side. “I’m all wet now, too. I can’t go in.”
Coco’s brow furrowed. “What if I…”
“Nope! You can make snow angels after dinner.” Grabbing her arm, Mom tugged her inside.
I moved my head lazily from side to side, making a big head for my angel. The snow was fluffy and fresh, and so white that it glittered in the bright sun. Soon I’d be sick of this weather, but this was the first snowfall of the season, and it felt magical.
“We’re not going to go crazy this year,” I said, squinting at Sam as he worked on his angel. “I’m not having a full-on war. I have too much going on in my life. I don’t want to be worrying that I’m going to get soaked on my way to work in the morning.”
“You’re no fun,” he said playfully. “Mom wants to take your title. Coco’s old enough to have a fighting chance, too.”
“I’ll give up the title if it means I won’t have to be hit with snowballs at random times.” I stood up and took a look at my handiwork. The snow angel was a little lopsided, but not bad for a first try.
“We’ll see.” Sam got up, too. His angel looked even worse than mine. “I don’t want to show up to work all wet, either. I just got a cute girl’s number, and I’m trying to make a good impression before I start my new job.”
I cut my eyes toward him. “Really? A coworker?”
He scuffed a foot over his angel’s foot. “Yeah, we’ve kind of been dancing around each other for a while. I figured things can’t get too messy since I’ll be leaving the job in two weeks anyway. I finally asked for her number, and she actually gave it to me.”
“I didn’t know you had a crush!”
Most brothers might not have told their sisters about stuff like this, but like I said, we weren’t the average family. Sam’s love interests were frequently the subject of dinner-table conversation during our high school years, and we teased him endlessly about them. Even Coco got in on the jokes.
They’d teased me about boys for most of my life, then been thrown off a few years ago when I told them they should’ve been worrying about girls all along. These days, the three of them made fun of me just as much as Sam. The difference was that I kept my crushes to myself, so they had a lot less ammunition.
“I don’t tell you everything,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes at me.
The thing was that he normally did. That was who he was – blunt and upfront, simple even. He couldn’t keep a secret if his life depended on it. Or was he finally changing?
His job as a barista had never required much from him, aside from the people skills that he innately had. Now that he’d graduated college and was moving on to a “real” job, he’d have to master office politics. Maybe he’d become a whole new person.
“How long has this crush been going on for?” I asked.
“Two weeks. Maybe three.”
My shoulders relaxed. Maybe he wasn’t becoming a master of deception, after all.
I kicked snow over my angel until it was nothing but a mess on the ground. Heading to a fresh spot, I lay down and started over. “So, who is this girl? What’s so great about her?”
“Her name’s Judi,” Sam said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “She’s so cool and funny. She’s really smart and nice, and she’s into basketball and soccer.” He paused. “Oh, and she’s really pretty, too.”
Hmm… he’d started by listing her personality characteristics rather than what she looked like. “Pretty” was only an afterthought at the end. He really was into this girl.
His love life had been slow since his last break-up several months ago. He’d dated that girl for almost a year, and they’d seemed pretty serious about each other. Our whole family had loved her, and the split had taken us by surprise.
Still, Sam’s love life was better than mine. I’d never had an official relationship – only a few dates here and there. It was hard to meet LGBT people when you lived in a small town like Fronton. Half the lesbians I knew were permanently single and biding their time until they could move to a bigger c
ity. The rest were in long-distance relationships with people from Denver, the closest major city. Some of them were dating people they hadn’t even met in person.
Fronton was going to have its first Pride festival this summer, which was something. I’d actually signed up to volunteer to organize it. With a little luck, I might meet someone – either another volunteer, or a festival-goer.
At this point in my life, I could use some luck.
“She sounds pretty great,” I said. “Have you texted her yet?” I stood up and surveyed my snow angel. It’d turned out slightly better than the last one, although it still might not have looked much like an angel. Icy water was seeping into my clothes, and I shivered and hugged myself.
“No, I haven’t.” Sam moved to a new spot and lay down again. “I was actually hoping you could do it for me.”
“Say what?” I kicked him more gently than I wanted to. “What are you talking about?”
He sat up with a sigh. “This girl is amazing, Ella. Seriously, she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. She could be the real deal.”
I hadn’t heard him talk about a girl this way since his break-up. Still… “How does that relate to me texting her?”
“You’re better with words than me, library lady.” He brushed snow off his knees. “She’s into ideas and stuff. I want her to think I’m smart, too.”
“What is this, a sitcom?” I shook my head. “This kind of thing never works. No matter what I say over text, she’s going to interact with you in person eventually. She’ll see the real you then.”
“Who cares?” Sam asked. “You can make a good first impression, and I’ll take it from there. It won’t even be a big deal.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. He seriously wanted me to do this – and I was starting to actually consider it. It sounded fun, with a little dash of evil. But really, what harm would come of it? Even if I gave him a helping hand, he’d still have to hit it off with Judi in person, or their potential relationship wouldn’t go anywhere.
“What’s in it for me?” I asked.
He stood up. “I’ll do your chores for a week.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Which chores?”
“All of them. Cooking, dishes, sweeping, laundry, snow shoveling…”
Now this was getting seriously tempting. “And you won’t launch any surprise snowball attacks?” I asked. “Morning, afternoon, or night?”
“I’ll even throw some at Mom and Coco if you want me to.” He made puppy-dog eyes at me. “Please, Ella. I really like this girl.”
“All right.” I held a hand up before he could get too excited. “Ground rules. I text her long enough to set up your first date. Once it’s scheduled, you’re on your own. Even if that only takes a day, you still have to do my chores for a week.”
I expected it’d be easy to set up a date. If this girl liked him enough to give him her number, surely she’d be willing to go out with him once.
“Okay,” Sam said.
“And I was planning to deep-clean the upstairs bathroom this week,” I said. “So that’s going to be included.”
He didn’t even blink. “Sure.”
He was willing to scrub the toilet for a slightly-increased shot at getting a date with this girl? He was even further gone than I’d thought.
I smiled. I hoped Judi could actually be the love of his life. He deserved some happiness.
And if that meant I might be able to get him to do more housework for me, even better.
Two – Judi
Yawning, I took the used grinds out of the coffee maker and dropped them into the trash. It was finally closing time, and I was ready to lie down in front of the TV and unwind. I’d been on my feet for eight hours straight, with only a ten-minute break for lunch.
I moved out of the way so Wren could close up the cash register. I still had to take the baked goods out of the display case, but I took a moment to pull my phone out of my apron pocket. I hadn’t had a chance to check for new messages for an hour or two.
“Waiting to hear from Sam?” Wren asked with a grin.
Although there was a new text, Wren had me feeling self-conscious, and I shoved the phone back into my pocket without looking at it. “Go away.”
“Come on, it’s adorable. A coffee-shop romance…”
I rolled my eyes. I could’ve killed Sam for asking me for my number in front of another coworker. Sure, we’d been lightly flirting for a couple of weeks, and I’d guessed the ask might be coming, but couldn’t he have done it in private?
He hadn’t even been subtle about it. He’d been telling both of us about how he’d gotten a “real” job and he’d be leaving Caffeine Hut. Then, with a huge grin, he’d turned to me and said, “I guess this is the moment to try my luck. Judi, could I get your number?”
My cheeks went hot all over again as I thought about it.
I stepped behind Wren and grabbed a tray of donuts. “It’s not a romance yet. I don’t even know if I’m interested.”
He wasn’t my usual type at all. He seemed like the typical straight guy, a bit of a meathead even, and I had no idea how he’d react when he found out I was bisexual. Being queer was a huge part of my identity, and I’d been volunteering with LGBT organizations for years. Still, he was kind of cute, and we’d gotten along fine so far. I was open to going on a date and seeing if anything came of it.
“Sure, sure.” Wren sounded dubious. “And save the sprinkle ones for me.”
Getting to take the baked goods home was one of the few perks of working at Caffeine Hut. Six months in, and I’d gained a pants size.
Hopefully one of these days I’d get a grown-up job like Sam had. Too bad I hadn’t been thinking about my career prospects when I decided to get my bachelor’s degree in gender studies.
I bagged the sprinkle donuts for Wren and a couple of chocolate ones for me. The rest, I covered in plastic wrap and placed in the fridge. A worker from a local charity would come by to pick them up tomorrow.
“I’m all done, if you don’t mind locking up,” I said, untying my apron and slipping on my winter coat. “See you tomorrow!”
“See you.” She looked up at me and winked. “Say hi to Sam for me.”
Cursing at her silently, I walked to my car. I checked my phone before even getting inside. Sam’s message simply said Hey you, with a smiley face.
Hey yourself, I wrote back. How was your day off? What kind of hijinks did you get up to?
I got behind the wheel, expecting to see another message from him when I got home. My phone dinged again before I could even put the key in the ignition.
Family snowball fight, he’d written. There was no clear winner, unfortunately, but this was just the beginning of this year’s snow war. Give it some time, and the others will bow down to my wrath!
I blinked at the screen. He sounded wittier than he did in real life. Maybe he wasn’t a total meathead after all.
You can do it! I typed. You’ll be the Snow King before you know it. I had a more boring day – just finished work, and I’m on my way home to crash with some Netflix.
I reread it to make sure it was clever enough. It didn’t seem as good as his message had been, and I found myself wanting to match wits with him.
Then again, why should I have to impress him? I wasn’t even sure if I liked this guy. I hit “send” and drove home, trying not to wonder the whole time about what his response would be.
I gave in to temptation and checked my phone before I got out of my car. Seeing he’d already responded made me feel a little warm inside. Clearly I was more into this guy than I’d thought.
What’s good on the ‘flix? he’d written.
The ‘flix? Who calls it that? I typed. And I’m not sure. I actually just finished watching Day Parade. Sooo romantic, they were perfect together! Now I’m ready for a new show… any recommendations?
I headed into the house and said hi to my roommate, Chelle, who was in the living room with her girlfriend Sabrina. Chelle held thei
r bowl of popcorn toward me, and I waved it away. “I just want to crash.”
“No worries,” Chelle said. “You don’t look tired, though. You look excited, if anything.”
“Do I?” I blushed.
“Yeah,” Sabrina said, sitting up straight to examine me. “It’s like you’re glowing.”
“You two are imagining things.”
I beat a hasty retreat to my room. I had a flat screen connected to my laptop, and I tended to stay in here rather than socializing with them. Although they were both nice and friendly, I tended to like to spend my free time alone – especially because seeing their happiness was a constant reminder of my own singlehood.
I turned the computer on and checked my phone again. Sam was replying so quickly – it seemed like he was really into me. I’d already known he was, but wow. I hadn’t been interested in someone who was also interested in me in… well, a long time.
I hadn’t prioritized dating for a while now. My last relationship had lasted six months, and it wasn’t too serious. The girl was pretty into me, but somehow the feeling wasn’t quite right. We weren’t perfect together, and I didn’t want to settle for less than that.
In the end, the girl had moved to the other side of the country to get her master’s degree. We’d thought about staying together, and maybe we would’ve made it work if I was really crazy about her. In the end, we decided the distance would just be too much. We’d cut off contact, and I rarely thought about her at all.
I just watched something amazing, Sam said. It’s not a show, though, it’s a documentary. Interested?
I lay on my front and texted back, How can I say I’m interested if you didn’t tell me anything about it? Tease.
I scrolled through a few of the offerings on Netflix. Nothing immediately caught my attention, and I grabbed my phone the second it dinged with a new message.
I don’t know if I should tell you, Sam said. I might scare you off.
What? Tell me!
Well… it’s about a serial killer.
I laughed out loud. I couldn’t see Sam sitting down and watching a doc about a serial killer at all! Clearly we had a lot of getting to know each other to do.
It Was You Page 1