Something Complicated (Dirty Southern Secrets Book 1)

by J. L. Leslie

  There have been plenty of firsts that I have missed with Willow. I can’t be with her every second of the day and I’m completely aware of this. Why was this one so important to me? Why does this one matter so much?

  Because I wanted to do this one. That’s why.

  Jenna

  I laugh into the phone and then take a sip of my beer before plopping down onto my couch. I’ve only been home a couple of hours, but I’ve already had a shower and changed into my favorite pair of pajamas, eaten cold pizza and I’m on my second bottle of beer. Perfect way to relax after my first day at work.

  “I can’t believe he had a mullet,” I laugh again, listening to Brynn tell me about her blind date.

  “I was shocked, and I mean, I don’t know that I hid my shock well. You need to practice doing that for your date. Better yet, FaceTime him first so you don’t waste your time if he isn’t who he says.”

  “I may do that, but I doubt he’ll be some creeper. He is Principal Hawkins’ nephew, after all,” I tell her, liking her idea about my impending date for Friday night. I didn’t feel that I could tell Principal Hawkins I wouldn’t go out with his nephew since he had just hired me.

  “I no longer trust that online site. He looked nothing like the picture on his profile. He was supposed to be 6’2, clean-cut, with a goatee.”

  “So, you’re officially dating again?” I ask her, still giggling.

  “I guess so. I mean, it’s been five years. I think it’s time I moved on.”

  I don’t usually prod her about Kaler or Willow, rarely even mentioning them to her, but after seeing them both today, it’s hard not to say something. Five years may have passed, but he was her husband. Willow is her daughter, no matter how badly she pretends she doesn’t exist. It’s not something that just goes away because you convince yourself that part of your life didn’t happen.

  “Five years. Wow. When was the last time you spoke to Kaler?” I question and then quietly add, “And saw Willow?”

  For a moment I don’t believe she’s going to answer. I can hear her breathing on the line, so I know she didn’t hang up on me.

  Finally, she replies, “I haven’t spoken to Kaler, but I saw Willow a few months ago. She is my daughter, Jenna, so it’s not like I don’t see her. It’s difficult with the distance.”

  Brynn lives six hours away in Tuscaloosa. It’s not thousands of miles away or across the continent so her tone annoys me. She could see Willow every weekend if she wanted to. She chooses not to. This is the part of Brynn that I don’t understand.

  “I didn’t realize you’d seen her. You hadn’t mentioned it.”

  “It’s not as though Kaler allows me to see her. He pretends like I’m not even her mother! If it wasn’t for Kipton, I wouldn’t have seen her the few times I have. I swear, Kaler thinks I wanted to leave her!”

  I shift on the cushions and take another sip of my beer, trying to find the right words to say to her. We’ve been best friends since high school. We met after I moved to Chapelwood to live with my grandparents. Her and Kaler were already dating.

  Kipton and Tauren, Kaler’s younger brothers, seemed to be part of the package of being friends with Brynn. I didn’t mind. I knew no one here and all of the sudden I had four friends. Four great friends. Brynn and I have always been close and I can’t imagine not having her in my life, but she isn’t the type who likes to be told the cold, hard truth.

  “Did you ever tell him what was going on, Brynn? Why you left?”

  “Enough about me,” she deflects. “Tell me about your first day at work. You’re a real teacher now!”

  I laugh at her excitement and at how easily she changes the subject. She was always so good at that. She was always good at avoiding the tough conversations.

  I decide to tell her how I love the kids and the updates I plan to make to the classroom. I leave out the fact that Willow is one of my students. I don’t want to rub in how I’m getting to see her daughter when she isn’t, especially since she’s blaming that all on Kaler.

  “Ugh, Mr. Mullet is actually texting me. Can you believe that?” she says, and I can practically hear her rolling her eyes through the phone.

  “It could always be worse.”

  “And how could it possibly be worse?” she groans.

  “He could have a mullet and no teeth.”

  She bursts out laughing and we say good night. I leave her to Mr. Mullet, and I start channel surfing, doing my best to ignore the lingering feeling that she’s keeping more from me about her and Kaler while at the same time, I’m keeping Willow from her.

  Chapter Three

  Kaler

  It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that my little girl, my sweet princess, is a kindergartener. I knew she would grow up, don’t get me wrong, but she’s in a classroom with other kids. Normal kids. Hell, she’s had homework! Can you believe that?

  Her second day of school, Willow came home with these worksheets in her bag. They were printed out on different color sheets of paper like blue, pink, and green. One sheet was for tracing the letters of the alphabet and another for tracing numbers.

  I don’t know if Jenna is aware how hard it is to get Willow to sit still and hold a pencil in her hand. She honestly has no grip strength for something the size of a pencil but try to pry the iPad out of her hand and she has a damn death grip.

  Needless to say, her homework looks awful, but I doubt she’s being graded like that of the other kids. I knew when I enrolled her, she was not going to be on the exact same level as the other children. I only want her to be given a chance. To learn how to interact with those kids. To feel normal.

  “How was your day?” I ask Willow as I buckle her in.

  Every day this week I have taken her to school, walked her inside to Jenna’s class, and then picked her up from Jenna. We’ve done her homework each night and each morning she appears to be excited about going to class. I’ve seen the transformation Jenna has made to the classroom in only a few days, including the disappearance of the shit-brown rug. I’ve seen her excitement as well and I know the kids can see it too.

  Every day I ask Willow how her day was and every day she tells me the same thing. She went to school. Always the same answer. She slipped into this routine easily, almost as though she’s always gone to school. Most of the time she tells me she had chicken at lunch and that she “pwayed” at P.E. One day she even told me she had “keshup” for lunch.

  “Kaler!” I turn at the sound of Jenna’s voice and she’s jogging toward me with Willow’s backpack in hand. “You forgot this.”

  I take it from her, my fingertips brushing over hers. She’s slightly breathless and she stands beside me a moment, catching her breath. I realize she must’ve run from her classroom to ensure she would stop me.

  “Didn’t you run track in high school?” I joke and she laughs.

  “That was a long time ago, Kaler Holt, and how dare you point out how out of shape I am!” she teases with mock sensitivity.

  I find myself gazing over her figure, the curve of her breasts and the way her jeans mold to her hips. She might be out of shape, as she put it, but her shape is nice.

  Shit. I scold myself for having that thought about my daughter’s teacher. Not only that, she was my ex-wife’s best friend. They probably still talk although Brynn no longer lives in Chapelwood. I have never looked at Jenna Winston that way and I won’t start now. I can’t.

  “Were you just checking me out?” she questions me, calling me out, and my eyes go wide.

  “Hell no!” I deny and she bursts out laughing.

  “I was only joking, but thanks for that,” she replies. “That ‘hell no’ was a real boost to my ego. Not only am I severely out of shape but I’m ugly too.”

  She’s joking again, I know this. I tell myself to correct her, tell her she isn’t ugly, but I can’t find the words. What would I say? That she’s beautiful, or some corny shit like that? I don’t know how to even talk like that anymore.

/>   “Thanks for bringing her backpack out.”

  Yeah, that just made this situation a shit ton better. She glances down at the sparkly backpack in my hands and then takes a step back.

  “Not a problem. I’ll see you Monday,” she says. “Hope you and Willow have a good weekend.”

  “Yeah, um, you too.”

  Real smooth. Real fucking smooth.

  “Oh, and nice haircut!” Jenna calls over her shoulder.

  I toss Willow’s backpack into the floorboard, running a hand over my shortened locks, and shut her door. I look back once as I walk around and watch Jenna as she heads back inside the school.

  On the way home, Willow and I stop for donuts, not necessarily Willow’s favorite but one of mine. Willow only eats chocolate or strawberry sprinkled donuts and even then, she only eats the top part where the icing is.

  By the time we get home, she has pink icing covering her cheeks, chin and nose. I knew she would make a mess when I handed the donut back to her while I was driving.

  “Let’s get you inside and get you cleaned up,” I tell her.

  I carry her in our house and grab one of the baby wipes from the case on the coffee table. She only fusses a little while I clean the icing off of her, but stops with her antics as soon as I’m finished. Immediately after, she asks for the “game” and goes to the outlet where my iPad is plugged in.

  I’m entering my password when I get a text from my brother Tauren.

  Call mom to babysit. We’re going out.

  I’m tempted to turn him down and stay in tonight, but after checking out Jenna’s figure and thinking of how good it would feel to have her long legs wrapped around my waist, it’s probably a better idea that I get out.

  Jenna

  My stomach rumbles as the waitress places my loaded nachos in front of me. Principal Hawkins’ nephew, Ben, is seated across from me and he thanks her while I’m already digging in.

  “Hungry?” he smiles, and I get the feeling that he’s being rude despite the smile on his face.

  “Starving,” I answer, managing not to roll my eyes. “Nothing like cold beer and nachos.”

  It’s nearly ten o’clock and we are just now sitting down to eat dinner. So, yes, I am starving. We watched an “exciting” rendition of Annie Get Your Gun, performed at the local college, and Ben insisted that we stick around after to meet the cast. Apparently, he knew a few of the actors. Sticking around turned into a whole one hour ordeal!

  “I haven’t eaten here before,” he admits. “I didn’t realize it would take so long to meet the cast, but I haven’t seen Tommy and Hazel in years. I forget that the restaurants in Chapelwood close early.”

  Yes, all four of them. Happy’s Place is the only establishment you’ll find serving food past ten o’clock. Chapelwood is a small town with small town values. There is only one twenty-four-hour convenience store and that store is the only one open on Sundays. Restaurants are closed and you won’t find an empty pew at Chapelwood Baptist Church. You also won’t find any alcohol being sold anywhere on Sundays either. According to my grandma, if you want to drink alcohol on Sundays, buy it on Saturday night.

  “It’s no problem. The play was good,” I tell him, shoving another nacho into my mouth.

  “Yes, I agree. It was very exciting. I think I enjoyed it better than the movie.”

  I’ve heard him say how “exciting” the play was so many times I want to scream! I flag down the waitress as she walks by and order another beer. When I see Ben purse his lips, I tell myself I should’ve FaceTimed him like Brynn suggested. He’s not a bad looking guy. In fact, he’s pretty good looking with close-cut blonde hair and light brown eyes. But we’re not a match. That’s clear.

  “There’s no way you can make that motherfucking shot!” a loud voice yells from across the room.

  I turn around and see three men at the pool tables set up in the back. Two are standing with their arms crossed. The third has a pool stick in his hand, a smirk on his face.

  I’m instantly transported back to high school, watching the three Holt brothers play pool and argue over who would win. Brynn and I would sit in the corner and watch them, both of us making our own predictions on how the game would play out. Winner always received a six-pack.

  “Some people have no couth,” Ben remarks.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Couth, Jenna. Some people have no couth,” he repeats. “We are trying to enjoy our meal and people like that ruin it.”

  “I actually know them, and they’re good people.”

  I reach for my beer and he tosses his napkin onto his plate and stands up, mumbling about how his uncle is crazy. I raise my eyebrows in question, somewhat surprised by his gesture and comment. The date hasn’t been going great, but I don’t expect him to walk out.

  That’s exactly what he does though.

  Leaving me with the damn check.

  Asshole.

  I lean back in the chair, beer in hand. I sip on it and decide to make the best of it. I do have nachos after all. I won’t allow them to go to waste because some jerk decided to stick me with the check. He obviously was not raised in Chapelwood because the men around here don’t do that.

  “That’s a lot of nachos for one woman.”

  I shove my nacho down into the loaded heaven of toppings. “Listen, asshole‒”

  “Jesus, Jenna! I’m only joking,” Kaler explains, coming into view.

  My cheeks heat red as he takes the empty seat across from me. He peeks at the plate of the house salad and makes a face. I can’t help but to smile. He would never order a salad.

  “I apologize for what I said earlier. I never meant to insinuate that you’re ugly.”

  “You don’t have to apologize, Kaler. I knew you weren’t trying to say that,” I assure him. “Did you sink the shot?”

  When he looks confused, I point over to the pool tables. “Of course.”

  “You always beat Tauren. I don’t know why he thought you wouldn’t. Now Kipton is another story.”

  “Are you saying I can’t beat Kipton at pool?”

  “No,” I answer. “Just saying he was a worthy opponent for you. I mean, any guy who rides bulls has to know how to play pool.”

  “Hey I rode a bull…once.”

  I eat a nacho and he watches me with curiosity before taking one for himself. I arch an eyebrow at him, a silent warning for him to keep his paws off my food.

  “Where’d your date run off to?” he asks me, testing his limits and eating another nacho.

  “I wouldn’t share my nachos, so he bailed on me.”

  “Seriously?”

  I grin as I chew. “The nachos part, no, the bailing part, yes.”

  “Kaler! You’re up!” Kipton calls and Kaler gets up.

  “Apparently, I need to go prove you wrong. Kipton is not a worthy opponent, regardless of his bull riding skills. Sorry about your date. He sounds like a fucking douche.”

  He leaves me alone, allowing me to finish off my nachos and a third beer in peace. I can hear him and his brothers laughing and making jibes at each other when the waitress comes to clear the table. She informs me that my tab has been taken care of by one of the gentleman playing pool.

  I smile over at Kaler and he grins back at me. I knew there were still some of those out there.

  Chapter Four

  Kaler

  I sit in the pew listening to the pastor and doing my best not to fall asleep. It doesn’t matter that I stayed out with Kipton and Tauren until well past three a.m., there is no such thing as missing church on Sunday morning in Chapelwood, especially when the chief of police is also the pastor.

  My mama gives me a hard nudge to my side and my eyes fly open. I’m certain I was doing that embarrassing head bobbing thing. I probably have drool running out of the side of my mouth also.

  “Next time, it’ll be a pinch,” she warns in a harsh whisper.

  I scoot over a few inches, knowing the short distance will not save me from
her nails. I barely escaped childhood with my ears intact. I tune in to the preacher, willing myself to stay awake.

  “Sometimes sin is right here in Chapelwood,” Pastor Jacobs says. “Right here in our homes and in our schools!”

  At the mention of schools, I see movement to my left. Jenna tucks her hair behind her ear, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. She’s sitting with her grandparents, in the same pew they’ve been sitting in for as long as I can remember.

  “Tell me, my friends, do you consider it to be a sin to go out on the town and have a beer? What about two or three or four?” Pastor Jacobs asks the congregation.

  I know although no one is answering, half the people in here were in Happy’s last night. In fact, I bought Parker Dellway a beer last night and he’s a deacon. He took up our morning offering.

  “What if that person having those beers was the same person teaching your child at the local elementary school? Would you be okay with it then? I would think not! We must set an example for our children, my friends! We must show them how they need to conduct themselves and we cannot do that if we are guilty, stained with our sins!”

  I’ll be damned. Pastor Jacobs is condemning Jenna right there from the pulpit. I don’t know who else he could be talking about. Jenna was out last night, and I know she had a few beers. I saw them on her table. She teaches at the elementary school. It isn’t hard to put two and two together.

  Her grandma leans over and whispers something in her ear. Jenna nods and her grandma says something else. I’m curious as to what is being said between the two of them but it’s not like I can interrupt church to go ask.

  Once Pastor Jacobs is finished condemning Jenna and anyone else who was out drinking last night, we pray, and he dismisses us. He’s been preaching the same sermon since I was a kid, only this is the first time I’ve heard him calling a particular person out.