Over the Fence Box Set

by Carrie Aarons

  But, in typical Kelsey fashion, she says, “Um … no. That’s girlfriend shit. I’m not a girlfriend. And also, ew Omaha? Boring!”

  I try not to let the hurt show in my eyes. We aren’t dating, she’s right. No matter how hard I’ve been trying or how much I want her to be mine and only mine. I’m not going to admit just how much that kills. I thought I’d been making headway with her, easing her into this thing that I think deep down she wants.

  So why did I come home from downtown, where I picked up my brand new chest protector from the special store I ordered it from, with a purring orange and white furball?

  Who the fuck knows? Because I’m a sucker. Because I’ve been in love with my best friend for two years and will hopelessly follow her off a cliff? Because I saw the kitten and imagined the look on her face when I presented it to her?

  Yeah, all of the above. I’m such a goner.

  The tiny ball of fluff purrs loudly as I pull her little travel crate out of the passenger seat of my car. I saw the small crate in the window of the pet store with a sign that said, “$50 per kitten.” And I knew as soon as I neared the window and saw the little orange baby cat that I’d be bringing her home.

  Kelsey goes to see her animals every single day at the preserve. She’ll love to have one at home. And I should basically hand her my balls with this kitten.

  As I walk into the house, my hands begin to sweat. What if she thinks this is some overly grand gesture? If she decides to end what we have because I’m getting too clingy. Kelsey has been spooked by much less. I ‘m still trying to figure out what happened with her parents that day she almost fled the country.

  Parker, Owen, and Minka litter the couch as I open the door. Great. I really didn’t need to face them yet with the kitten. I haven’t even come up with a full story to tell Kelsey, much less sell this off to everyone else.

  “Um, what is that?” Minka’s high-pitched squeal interrupts my tiptoeing through the living room. Busted.

  “What is what?” Really, Clint? She already saw it!

  “That tiny baby in a cage that is just mewling to be let out!” Minka is off the couch in two seconds flat, babbling baby talk at the cage in my hand.

  “Dude, you got a cat?” Owen moves next to her, watching his girlfriend in awe. “Wait a minute? Is my girl a total softie for baby animals? Who would have known? The tough girl has a weakness. I should have thought of this years ago, thanks, buddy!”

  Minka shoots him a look that could literally freeze ice, and then goes back to cooing at the orange puff.

  Parker looks over, a flicker of interest in his eyes for two seconds, and then he meets mine. Worry and judgment flash across his expression. He knows why I brought this home, and he’s not happy. As much as I love my friend, he will give it to you straight, no matter if you want to hear it or not. At this moment in time, I don’t. Even if she’s going to break my heart in time, I don’t want to hear it. Because right now, it all feels too good.

  Kelsey walks in, her beautiful hair just sweeping over her shoulder. She looks like a ravishing sprite, or a fairy, sent into this world to cause just a little more mischief. “What is that?”

  She points to the cage where Minka’s face is literally plastered to the bars. I set it on the floor and open the latch, pulling out the baby cat that almost fits the size of my palm.

  “I saw this little girl in the window downtown and couldn’t say no.” Hey, it wasn’t completely untrue.

  And then I get the look I’ve been waiting for since I made this purchase. Kelsey’s face lights up like one of those overly done Christmas displays. Her cheeks fill with a pinkish flush, those amber eyes flash and sparkle, and she’s clapping her hands and jumping up and down.

  “Oh my God! She’s precious! What should we name her? Can she sleep with me? Oh my God!”

  The kitten is out of my hands in two seconds, Kelsey grabbing her gently and going to sit with Minka on the floor between the couch and the TV to play with her.

  “I like the name Lucy!” Minka puts in.

  “Too common. And you’re only saying that because she has orange fur. Let me think …” Kelsey puts her fingers to her chin and bites her lip. I want to take her back to my room so bad. “I got it! Marnie!”

  “Perfect,” I say too quickly, and Parker and Owen turn to look at me with funny expressions on their faces.

  After about half an hour of playing with the new kitten, Owen puts an end to it by telling Minka they need to get to bed. She doesn’t live here, but she might as well.

  “We have an early flight in the morning. We should all be getting to bed. We have a trophy to bring home!” Parker is in a more chipper mood.

  They all trek to their rooms, and when I hear both of their doors latch, I turn to Kelsey.

  “Come to my room?”

  She stares at Marine, enthralled by the little creature. “Can we bring her?”

  I smile at her love for animals, the way she hasn’t taken her eyes off the cat since I brought it through the door. “Sure.”

  We’ve done nothing but watch the kitten pounce around between us on my bed for half an hour. No kissing, no touching, just her and I watching the adorable kitten I brought home sleep.

  “She’s adorable. Thank you for bringing her home! She’s just a kick-ass addition to our rowdy band of misfits.”

  As if she could ever be called a misfit.

  “Of course …” I don’t know if I should let on that I got Marnie for her. But I need to push my luck if I am ever going to get anywhere with her. “I saw her and instantly thought you would love her.”

  Kelsey’s eyes float to mine, but she stays silent. I can’t get into that impenetrable brain.

  I try a different tactic. “You sure you don’t want to come tomorrow?”

  This time she grins. “Nah. I’ll only be a bore the whole week. You’ll do much better without my unathletic, know-nothing ass.”

  “I always do better with your ass. Every time.”

  This gets a high-pitched laugh from Kelsey. “Don’t I know it.”

  But I can’t help pressing her more on us. “What do you think you’ll do when we have to get out of the house?”

  I want to know if she has any plans to stay with me. To give us some sort of shot in her own way.

  “Oh, who knows? Probably another country, maybe South America? Wherever the animals call me, I’ll go.”

  She holds her hand up like she’s committed to some faithful mission. I chuckle at her quirkiness. “Not Africa?”

  Her usually bright face turns dark, extremely so. A cloud of gloom crosses her hazel eyes, and I can tell I’ve hit some horrible memory.

  “No. I don’t think I’ll be going back there anytime soon.”

  “How come?”

  She shrugs, trying to throw me off of the subject. “Just don’t want to.”

  I think back to the day she had a near mental breakdown in her room. “Does it have something to do with your parents?”

  Kelsey gasps and stares straight into my eyes. “How do you …?”

  Her question hangs in the air. “I just remember the day you came home in a panic. No one, no one told me a thing.”

  She’s shaking now, and I reach out to put my hand on her face. It’s all I can think to do. I want to comfort her so bad. I want to see my sassy, biting girl come back. “What happened?”

  Kelsey shakes her head, and whether she’s trying to erase some thought from her mind or if she’s trying to avoid me, I’m not sure. Her eyes look haunted, like someone who has lived through something horrific that they can never, ever forget.

  “Talk to me. You can trust me, Kels.”

  Cautiously, she raises those beautiful, round eyes to me. And I see hope mixed in with all of that pain and fear. Then, in a low, slow-paced voice, Kelsey starts to talk.

  10

  Kelsey

  The lit path up to the scientific and research trailers simply glows tonight beneath the amazing-as-all-fuck Af
rican sky. Out here, it’s like you can feel the whole world in your tiny palm. Like the whole universe is speaking right through to your soul.

  The fireflies buzz around me, sparkling as I trek the paperwork from the latest lion birth up to the office. I know it’s necessary to track and mark every single thing on a preservation. I know we need to keep order and files on our business to keep it running. But it doesn’t mean I want any part in the task. I’d rather get beaten over the head with a rubber mallet than spend my night documenting.

  I’ve been in Tanzania almost eight months and I doubt I’ll ever feel the urge to leave. The work I am getting to do here? The people? Top-notch. It’s like living in a less jungle-like Jurassic Park. Without all the murder by dinosaur and bad Jeff Goldblum impressions.

  Sure, I miss my friends at home. I wish that the time difference wasn’t so terrible so that I could talk to Clint more. I miss sleeping three to a bed with Chloe and Minka. I miss hanging out with Jackson at the East Coast preserves. But I feel my work here is too important. The things I’m doing, the animals I’m saving, they are too vital.

  As I near the small complex of buildings that has been deemed the administrative offices, I notice the lit panel of windows. It’s late, no one is supposed to be in the office at this hour. As it is, I am way past due with my paperwork and it’s the only reason that I’m up here.

  All the buildings are basically walls of glass windows that allow the office staff to watch the animals throughout the day.

  Which is why, as I near the conference room that is lit up like the Fourth of July, I can see two people clearly in the middle of fucking each other’s brains out on the sustainable wood table.

  Awkward! I feel like I find myself in these situations a lot. Must be the world’s way of confirming just how odd I am. I giggle, trying to figure out a way to let myself into the building without disturbing their obviously secret tryst.

  But then they move. And I see their faces. The woman, Candace, my parent’s executive assistant has her chest and stomach flat against the surface, trying to grip at something as she is fucked from behind.

  The person giving it to her? My father. My very married father.

  The whirring in my ears is so loud that I almost can’t hear the erratic beat of my heart. My face is burning with shame and embarrassment. One at finding them, but also because this is my father. The one who has never shown any ounce of compassion or warmth toward another human being, especially my mother.

  I learned a long time ago that my parents did not have a typical marriage. They are not warm or loving, most of the time they seem so uninterested in each other that I wonder why they are still together. And they can never be bothered with the needs of me, their child.

  But for him to be screwing around on her? Behind her back? In such an obvious and cheap way. It’s disgusting. My mouth fills with saliva and I know I’m going to be sick. I run for the bushes that will hide my retching and let my stomach come up and out my throat.

  When I glance up again, I can see they are still there out of the corner of my eye. I can feel the big, salty tears dripping onto my shirt and realize I’m crying. My mother is not a saint, she can barely be concerned with anything outside of her animal science projects, but she does not deserve this.

  I run for the dirt path I’ve just cheerily walked up. My thoughts are going a mile a minute as I sprint back down to the housing village. And then it all comes clear. If it were me, I would want to know. Not that it ever would be. My parents have guaranteed that. Love between two people is not everlasting, and hardly even exists. This cemented that even more.

  My mind is made up. I have to tell her.

  Checking her tent, I find it empty, as usual. There’s only one place she eats, sleeps, and breathes.

  Trekking across the grounds, my stomach balls into ugly pit-sized knots, I still feel like I might toss my cookies. How do you tell your mother that your father is up in the office right now screwing the woman she works the most closely with every single day?

  I find her in the lab, poring over dozens of stacks of papers on her wide, metal desk.

  “Mother …” My voice catches in my throat, threatening to unleash the well of tears behind my eyes.

  She can’t even be bothered to look up at my entrance. “What is it?”

  “I … up at the offices …” I don’t know how to proceed with this. I’ve never had a bonding or intimate moment with my mother, and this is certainly not an easy way to start.

  Finally, she looks up, her fiery hair tamed back as usual in a sleek bun. “Spit it out, Kelsey Elizabeth, I have work to do.”

  “Dad, he’s up at the offices with Candace.” I try to convey with my eyes just exactly what they’re doing up at the offices. I know she gets the message the minute her eyes fill with concern and upset. But after the flicker, it’s completely gone. Replaced by the cool exterior I have come to associate with Madeline.

  “What your father does with his free time is none of my concern. As long as his work on the preserve is uninterrupted, he can have whatever flings he likes.”

  I feel like she’s told me Santa Claus isn’t real all over again. I’m gobsmacked, and I know I’m crying at this point even if the rest of my body is numb. “How the hell can you say that? He is your husband! He is your family!”

  I can feel the anger and upset clouding my vision, building into a full-on shit fit. “You’re just going to let her tear your marriage apart? How can you just sit here?”

  My mother sighs, finally picking her head back up from where she’s been writing some notes with her signature expensive black fountain pen. “I know you are a young woman, naïve and inexperienced. So you won’t understand when I tell you this, but marriage is not about love. Love is a farce, a young girl’s fairy tale. Real marriage? It supplies surety, a partnership to a better living. Your father and I have not been a married couple, the way you think one should be, in a very long time. He has his ‘friends’ and I get to keep the rousing scientist as mine. The intelligent business partner that I came into this partnership for. Humans are so fickle, trying to make fate and feelings part of our cohabitation decisions. You’ve seen how animals are. They mate, they move on. No attachments or hard feelings. We would all be better off if that’s how we lived our lives.”

  “And then I left the next day. I couldn’t stand to be there. I couldn’t stand them anymore,” I say to Clint as he stares quietly at me, Marnie snoring in her little kitten way between us.

  What I don’t tell him is that my heart turned to stone that day. That while I couldn’t believe my ears, I actually could. My parents have been ice cold my entire life. It’s part of the reason I have no idea how to love another human. Sure, I love Minka and Chloe because they’ve been there from a young age. They’re ingrained in my soul like my own heart is. But a man? I’ve never seen how to healthily connect with one, let alone fall in love.

  And after that day, I never want to. My mother solidified my mission to never be tied down. To never enter a relationship, because look what it turns you into. Either a lying, cheating son of a bitch. Or an ice queen too buried in work to actually live. No thank you on both counts.

  And I’ve been running from them ever since. I don’t want to see them, to face what they both put me through.

  I’m suddenly exhausted. The catharsis has come and gone, only to be replaced with a bone-deep tiredness. My big yawn gives way to Clint moving closer on the bed and wrapping his tree-trunk arms around my waist. Marnie’s soft fur brushing both of our arms.

  “I’m so sorry, Roo.”

  It’s the last thing I remember hearing before I submit to the dark, blissful cloud of sleep.

  11

  Kelsey

  Am I back in Africa?

  It’s the first hazy thought I have as I blink the sleep dirt out of my eyes and begin my morning crack and roll routine. Except when I go to put my arms over my head, they’re trapped.

  Sliding my eyes all the way
open, I’m greeted by a solid chest, soft snoring coming from somewhere above. What the fuck?

  I’m trapped against Clint’s body, our legs tangled together in an intimate embrace. I fell asleep with him in his bed, without even fucking his brains out first. This is a problem.

  The fact that it feels so good and natural is another problem. A very, very bad problem. A pimple on your nose on a Friday night kind of problem. When you get your period right before your hot hookup comes over kind of problem.

  He stirs, mumbling something in his sleep and I can’t help but stare up into his face. His beard has grown longer as they move toward the championships, something about not cutting it out of luck and superstition. It’s adorably flattened on one side, and his face is just basked in a blissful, deep sleep.

  He’s so gorgeous sometimes I wonder how I overlooked it. And then there is that typical guilt buried in the pit of my stomach. I realize that it’s shallow … me sleeping with him now. After he’s turned his body into a better version of the Michelangelo statue. And maybe I am. But I just can’t help myself.

  I don’t admit that in the back of my mind, I’ve allowed myself to keep hooking up with him for this long because I feel safe. It’s not just fun and hot. It’s something else. But I won’t allow myself to dig that deep.

  Marnie is curled up in a ball at the end of the bed, her drowsy kitten eyes lazily eyeing me as I look down at her. I’ve got to leave before Clint wakes up. He’ll take this some sort of way, and I really don’t need to put myself in that position.

  Moving as quietly as I can, I creep off the bed, stopping at the end to pick Marnie up and stuff her in the crook of my arm. Tiptoeing out, I slowly close the door and make a clean escape without Clint waking up.

  “Did you sleep in there?”

  Busted. Minka stands outside the bathroom door on Clint and Owen’s side of the house, her hair pulled up into a curly brown rat’s nest. She’s gaping at me like she just saw a ghost.