Southern Storms

by Cherry, Brittainy

Now I was dealing with my anxiety alone, and there was no secret that it was getting to me. I wasn’t sure what was more exhausted, my body or my mind.

  I tried to do as much as I could to keep busy. I made lists of things I wanted to do to be brave. I tried my best to meditate. I cried sometimes, too, because Yoana said crying was brave.

  Then I waited for the storm to pass, and thankfully, I knew that no matter how big the storm, they’d always pass no matter what. After every storm, the sun would shine again.

  It took a few days for the sun to come out, and when it did, the landscaping team showed up. Even though I was extremely fatigued, I was ready to see what they had planned to whip the yard into shape. It was a beautiful space, and I could only imagine that Yoana had her own outline and plans already forming in her mind for what she wanted her yard to look like. I couldn’t wait to see the landscapers make it come to life.

  When two trucks pulled up with materials to get started, I headed outside to greet Lars, the owner of the company. I’d heard from Louise and Kate how he was the best landscaper in town—granted, he was the only one—and that he was smoking hot and dreamy.

  They weren’t wrong about his good looks. With his blond shaggy hair and a deep left dimple, I could see the charm.

  Lars spoke to three of his employees, giving them each their set of tasks before he turned to me for a greeting. First, his eyes greeted me as they danced up and down my body. When he met my stare, a sinister smirk curved his lips.

  “Well, hello there. I’ve heard many things about the new girl in town. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “It seems news travels fast around here. I’m Kennedy.”

  “I’m Lars, the owner of Lars Landscaping. It’s an honor to meet you,” he said, holding his hand out toward me.

  I went in for a handshake, but he scooped my hand into his palm and placed his lips upon my skin.

  Gross.

  I quickly pulled my hand away from him.

  Just like that, his good looks got knocked down a few pegs. He was being so cocky about—well, everything. It was clear Lars knew he was good-looking, and he probably received a lot of attention from many females in Havenbarrow. For me, though, there was no bigger turn-off than a man who knew he was handsome and thought he could get away with things based solely on his looks.

  Even though I hadn’t known Lars for more than two seconds, I was getting a lot of bad vibes coming from him.

  He kept smirking, looking like a sly fox. “It’s nice to have someone new in town. It’s easy to get sick of seeing the same faces around all the time. Is it just you and your”—he glanced down at my ring finger, which was bare—“boyfriend…?”

  I rubbed my hands together and shook my head. “No. Just me.”

  “Single?” he asked, perking up.

  I smiled, but in the pit of my stomach, I felt sick. I didn’t like where this was leading, and I would’ve loved for the conversation to shift directions, so that was exactly what I was going to make happen. What was it about that man that made me uneased? Something about him felt so familiar.

  “Yes, I am. Well, let me get out of your hair. I just wanted to say hello. I won’t be a bother at all. If there is anything you need, I’ll be inside. As you know, this place actually belongs to my sister and brother-in-law, so most changes should probably be run past them, but I can get in touch with them quickly if needed.”

  “Don’t feel as if you need to stay hidden in that house. If you want, you can always come out here and get down and dirty with me,” Lars said. Then he winked.

  He winked, and I wanted to throw up right then and there.

  Instead, I pushed out a Southern charm smile, nodded once, turned on my heels, and walked back toward the house. I was almost certain the guy was looking at my ass as I turned my back to him, and that thought alone gave me grossed-out chills.

  I nearly jumped out of my skin and flinched when Lars unexpectedly touched my shoulder.

  I shot around to face him with panic in my eyes.

  He tossed his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, whoa. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spook you.”

  My heart was pounding rapidly in my chest as I took a step back and wrapped my arms around my frame. “No, it’s okay. Sorry. Just easily jumpy.”

  “I just wanted to say you look beautiful today,” Lars stated, allowing his eyes to roam all over me once more. The discomfort started to rise from the pit of my stomach and settled heavily within my throat.

  “Thank you,” I said even though I wanted much more stern words about his inappropriate comments to leave my mouth. Instead, I turned back around to leave.

  Before I walked up the steps to the house, I noticed Mr. Personality sitting on the front porch next door with Joy, sharing a cup of coffee. His eyes were zoomed in on me, and the intensity of his stare sent chills down my spine. I tilted my head in his direction as confusion washed over me. His eyes looked as if he was thinking something, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was he was expressing toward me. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the first time I’d be left perplexed by his distant, cold stares.

  I had a strong feeling Mr. Personality and I would share many looks of bafflement with one another.

  Maybe one day, I’d be able to look away faster, but for now, my eyes had a way of lingering on his. Something was different about him this time. Something was holding his stare on me. For the first time since I’d come to town, Mr. Personality didn’t quickly look away from me. He focused in, tilted his head, and—for a moment—his eyes looked concerned.

  He turned away, and I went back inside to take a shower and wash off the discomfort Lars had created in me.

  Before the afternoon was over, Lars made three more moves on me, leaving me feeling completely uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure how the next weeks were going to go with having him work on the property. I’d spent five years being uncomfortable in a loveless marriage. The last thing I wanted was to be uncomfortable with a complete stranger.

  Not only was I dealing with Lars seemingly coming on to me, but I was also still having plenty of ‘friendly’ visits from various townspeople.

  People were still showing up at my house to introduce themselves to me, and frankly it was getting exhausting. The more they came, the more invasive they were becoming—asking me questions about my dating life, curious if I was interested in a date with their cousin Bernie who hadn’t dated a girl ever in his life, wondering if I was interested in donating to the elementary school’s autumn performance of Macbeth. That seemed a bit heavy for a kid’s show, but hey, who was I to say?

  I somehow ended up writing a check for that one—those ladies were pushy.

  If you thought the mothers of Havenbarrow were aggressive, wait till you hear about the daughters selling their Girl Scout cookies. Somehow I ended up ordering enough cookies to feed an army—or a sad self on a Friday night.

  The worst of them all was still Louise and Kate, who found themselves more and more interested in knowing about who I was as a person and even more intrigued by digging up some kind of dirt from my past.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” the two sang as they stood in front of my front door one Saturday afternoon. “We wanted to check in on you and see how you’re adjusting to little ole Havenbarrow. Lord knows it must be a big change from being a city girl like you were before.”

  Fact: I never told them I was a city girl. I told nosy Nancy that when she stopped by the other day with muffins.

  Another fact: Don’t trust nosy Nancy, no matter how good her muffins are.

  “I’m doing good, ladies.”

  “Oh, yes. That’s good and all,” Kate said, pursing her lips, “but if you don’t mind me prying, what are you going to do here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean no offense, Kennedy,” she started, which meant something offensive was about to be said. but you can’t just sit around here and not have a job. Don’t you have bigger ambitions than that? I mean, you’re w
hat, twenty-nine, thirty?” she asked.

  The insult was loud and clear through her tone, and I wasn’t sure how I restrained myself from slamming the door in her face.

  “Twenty-eight,” I answered.

  They both frowned. “That’s a shame,” Louise said. “You’re too old to be doing nothing. Maybe you should come to the mani-pedi nights I host with a few other gals. We have one next week. Perhaps one of the girls in town can get you started with a job. You know what they say—network, network, network! And honey, I’m sure your nails will thank you for the pampering. Plus, what about dating? Mary’s cousin Bernie is single. He’s a bit odd, too. Quirky, I should say—like you. I bet you two would be a great fit!”

  Not Bernie again. “Thank you for the offer, but I think I’m going to have to pass.” Part of me wanted to tell them about my novels. About how I’ve had a successful career. A bigger part of me knew I didn’t own them a thing.

  “You should really consider having Bernie take you out on a date. At your age, you should settle down, don’t you think? I bet you want kids at some point, don’t you? Time is ticking, and it only gets harder the longer you wait.”

  Wow.

  They had crossed a line, and they didn’t even care that they had. More and more each day, I was becoming certain that I wouldn’t be able to stay in that house with these two women living right down the street.

  “I’m sorry, that’s kind of a private question, and—”

  Louise cut in. “Did you know you can freeze your eggs? I read an article that you can do that.”

  Before I could reply, Louise was waving over at Lars, who was digging up some dead plants. “Hey, Lars. It’s good to see you,” she sang, eyeing him up and down like he was a T-bone steak she was going to devour. “I see you’ve still been working hard as always.”

  He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and gave a devilish smirk. “You know I can’t keep myself from getting my hands dirty, Louise.” He then winked at me, and my stomach flipped fifty-seven times.

  Louise fanned herself and blushed as if she wasn’t a married woman while Lars went back to work. “Wow, my gosh. If I were still a single girl, I would love to get down and dirty with that man.”

  “Amen,” Kate sang along with her sister. “Anyway, let us know about the pedicures, Kennedy! And about Bernie. You two would get along so well. I just know it.”

  The two hurried away, and I’d have been lying if I said I missed them when they left.

  At the end of the day, Lars came knocking on the door to let me know his team had headed out. “Let me show you what we’ve accomplished today,” he said, gesturing to the front yard.

  With a hesitant smile, I followed after him. We walked around as he gestured here and there, explaining what it would look like a few months from now. He spoke about the garden that would be placed in the back yard and went on and on about the lighting fixtures that would be put in place. He boasted about how talented and intelligent—and single—he was, sometimes touching on the amount of success his business had achieved in Havenbarrow. Then, as we were looking toward the corner where the lilac bush would go—Mama’s favorite flower—he placed his hand on my lower back, and I shot forward.

  “What are you doing?” I said, feeling a jolt of nerves rushing through my system.

  He cocked an eyebrow, apparently baffled. “I’m sorry? I was just—”

  “Touching my lower back without my permission,” I spat out. “And frankly, that is highly inappropriate.”

  Instead of apologizing for his actions, Lars rolled his eyes. “Come on, lady. It’s not like you haven’t been coming on to me all day since I arrived here with my team. The signs seemed pretty clear.”

  “There were no signs. I wasn’t coming on to you at all.”

  “There’s no need to lie about it,” he argued, raking his hands through his hair as if he were the most confident man alive. “I get it. You’re a good-looking girl. I’m a good-looking guy. It only makes sense that”—he placed his hand on my shoulder, sending chills down my spine—“we’d be attracted to each other.”

  “I’m not,” I said, my voice growing louder as I tossed his hand from my shoulder. “And if you touch me one more time, you’ll regret it.”

  “No need to be a bitch,” he huffed. “The truth is, you’re not even my type.”

  What is it with men who can’t accept the fact that a woman isn’t interested in them and therefore become defensive?

  “You’re a little too plump in all the wrong places,” he said, eyeing me up and down.

  “It’s time for you to leave,” I ordered, my voice stern even though I was shaking a little bit on the inside. At least in my marriage, I knew the monster that was coming home to me each night. But with Lars? A complete stranger? I didn’t know where he drew his lines of anger.

  “Whatever. I’ll be back tomorrow to get to work.”

  “It’s probably best if you don’t come back,” I said, knowing there was no way Yoana would be comfortable with someone like him working on their property. She’d never want me to feel uncomfortable. And Lars? He was the definition of discomfort.

  He snickered, shaking his head. “You don’t have the right to fire me. As you said, your sister is my client—not you.”

  “And my sister will be getting a call from me the moment you leave. Now, leave.”

  “Listen, lady—” he said, stepping toward me, making me flinch backward. Gosh, I hated that. I hated him seeing reaction escape from me. I hated how I saw the flicker of confidence my flinching gave him. I hated looking weak in front of men. I hated feeling boxed in.

  His chest puffed out as he stood taller. “I can’t have you messing with my income, so we are going to have to figure something out.”

  “Or how about this? How about you listen and leave her property,” a voice said, making Lars and me both look in the direction of Joy’s house. There he stood, Mr. Personality at the short fence that separated Joy’s yard from mine. His eyes were stern and filled with…anger? Was that anger? Only this time the maddening look was focused on Lars.

  “How about you mind your own fucking business, buddy?”

  Mr. Personality walked around the fence and then over to my yard. He stood face to face with Lars, and within seconds, Lars looked like a little fish about to be eaten by a shark. Sure, Lars was a bigger guy, tall and somewhat fit, but Mr. Personality was fit. Like fit fit. Like, will lift a car with his pinky and not break a sweat fit.

  They had a staring contest for a few moments before Lars stepped back and surrendered. “Whatever, man. I don’t have time for this.” Lars turned his stare to me, and his blue eyes looked a little colder. “Good luck finding another landscaper to finish this shit. I’m the only one in town, so congratulations—you’ve fucked over your sister’s yard.”

  “Leave,” Mr. Personality hissed, his stare still throwing daggers at Lars.

  “Okay, okay, asshole.” With a sinister snicker, Lars tossed his hands up into the air. “Don’t shoot.”

  Those words rolled off his tongue in a disturbing fashion, and now it was time for Mr. Personality to stumble backward a bit. His eyes flashed with emotion before he blinked it away. What was that? What was the story behind his slip of emotion?

  Lars hurried away, and I watched a slow exhausted sigh fall from Mr. Personality’s lips as his shoulders dropped. The grizzly bear before me let go of his growl.

  Relief rolled through me as I smiled toward Mr. Personality. “Thanks for that. I was about—”

  “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, his hard tone throwing me for a loop.

  “What?”

  “Why would you let him harass you like that for the whole day? Then, on top of that, you keep letting these nosy people come to your house and belittle you.”

  I stood a bit straighter. “What are you talking about?”

  “Every day, these people have been bringing you shit while shitting on you with their backhanded comment
s. They were pretty much spitting their disrespect straight into your face, and you just allowed it like you don’t have a freaking backbone.”

  Wow. Okay. Apparently we were back to the aggressive, rude guy I met in the woods. “It’s really none of your business.”

  “If you don’t shut them down right now, they aren’t ever going to pull back on being so aggressive and in your business.”

  “And why do you care how people treat me?”

  His eyes flashed with a softness, and I swore I saw a person I’d once known. He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and shrugged. “I’m just saying. The people in this town are walking trolls. If you have to play the bad guy, take on that role. Don’t stay timid, though. They love to break the timid. They’ll drive you crazy, push you up against a wall, attack you repeatedly until you snap—and believe me, you will snap—and then they’ll ask you why you snapped.”

  “You still didn’t answer my question. Why do you care how people treat me?” I asked.

  “I don’t,” he harshly muttered, brushing the back of his hand across his forehead. “But you don’t care how they treat you, either. Pretty sure that’s the real problem at hand.”

  I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, say I didn’t care a lick what these townspeople thought of me, but the truth was I did care. I wanted them to like me, because more than being bullied, I feared being unloved.

  My husband had made sure to put that fear into me—that I was unlovable. All I wanted to do was be loved, even if it meant breaking my own heart in order to get people to like me. That was a very depressing fact.

  “A word of advice from the town asshole?” he offered.

  “By all means, enlighten me.”

  “Get a solid backbone. Stand up for yourself. Push back when they push up against you.”

  “I don’t know if taking advice from the town asshole is such a solid idea. I don’t want to be a loner like you. I want to have friends.”

  His eyes shifted away from me for a split second. When he looked back, I swore I saw…hurt? Had I hurt him with my words?

  “I have friends,” he said, sure as ever. “People who mean the goddamn world to me. People who get me when the rest of the world tries to break me.”