Hope's River

by McHeyzer , Margaret

  Charlie smirks. “Seems you’re liking it here.”

  “I am, but I also know what you’re saying. We’ll be out of here soon enough.”

  “Yeah, so avoid him ’til we sell and leave.” I nod, but I’m not feeling it. I want to get to the bottom of what happened the last time we met. “Oh yeah. You’re screwed!” Charlie chuckles, staring at my face.

  “What? Why?”

  “This history you both have. It’s deeper than you’re letting on. And not to mention you’re loving the town too.”

  “No, I’m not,” I say in an unusually high-pitched voice. I clear my throat. “Let me try that again. No, I’m not.”

  Charlie takes a deep breath. “Look, sis, I know you. Usually you come, you’re all business, and you get things done. This place though.” He looks around the house. “Maybe it’s this old girl.” He places his palm to the wall. “Maybe it’s the town. Or maybe it’s the people.” He pointedly glares at me. “But whatever it is, it’s crawled under your skin.”

  “Are you saying I should go on a date with River?”

  “Funny, isn’t it? I didn’t say a thing about him, but that’s the only thing you heard. Seems to me you’ve already made your mind up.”

  I glare at Charlie. He gives me his cheeky smile. “Get back to work,” I say as I walk away from him. “I’m going to look at flooring, tile and cabinets.” I slide my sunglasses on as I start walking away.

  “Want me to come with you?” Tilting my head down, I look at him from above my glasses. “That’s a no, then?”

  “Get back to work,” I order.

  I hear Charlie laughing as I walk out of the house. Getting into my truck, I look in the rear-view mirror, and see the same gray and white cat sitting in the bed. “Hey.” I knock on the window.

  Meow.

  “Don’t give me attitude. Get out.”

  Meow.

  The cat looks at me, and I swear to fucking God, he rolls his eyes, then turns his head, not acknowledging me. “Hey!” I yell through the car to the back. The cat looks at me, then yawns, and lays down.

  Getting out of the car, I go to the rear of my truck, where the cat’s still laying, watching me. “Go,” I say to him.

  Meow.

  “Don’t meow at me, buddy. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

  Meow.

  “You can’t stay there. It’s dangerous.”

  Meow.

  “Go!” I point, as if the cat knows what I’m talking about. “Go.” This time I add a foot stomp.

  Meow.

  “Wait, are you hungry?” His coat is scruffy, and he appears to be under weight. Maybe he’s a stray.

  Meow.

  I don’t have anything I can feed him. I’ll stop at the convenience store in town and get him some food. “You have to move; you can’t stay there. But, I promise, I’ll bring food back for you.”

  Meow.

  Why am I talking to a damn cat? It’s not like it understands what I’m saying. “Move!” I yell at it, but instantly I feel bad for being horrible to the cat. “Look, I’ve got somewhere I need to be, can you please get off my truck, and I’ll bring you some food when I return.”

  “Are you trying to bribe the cat?”

  I startle when I hear River behind me. “No, don’t be stupid.” River’s brows fly up. His face lights up with a cheeky smirk. “Yeah, I’m trying to get him to move. I’ve seen him here before, and I think he might be a stray.”

  “He probably is. Do you want him gone?”

  “No, don’t hurt him,” I say automatically thinking the worst.

  “Why would I hurt him?” He approaches the cat, and gently reaches out to grab him.

  Hiss—grrr. The cat’s ears perk up, and he looks like he’s about to pounce on River.

  “He doesn’t like you,” I say.

  “Feral cats don’t like anyone.”

  I walk forward, and pat River on the arm. “Stand aside, let me show you how it’s done.”

  River steps back, and raises his hands in surrender. “Go on, cat whisperer. Do your thing.”

  “Pss, pss, pss, pss.” I step forward carefully, making sure I don’t make any sudden movements. “Here you go.” I slowly reach forward so the cat can smell me. He’s looking at me skeptically, but the moment my hand is inches from him, he stands and rubs his head on me. “Hey there, buddy.”

  Meow.

  “You have to move, okay? I’ve got to be somewhere. I’ll come back with food, okay?”

  Meow. He jumps down, and circles himself up around my leg, brushing against me as he continues to meow.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” River steps closer and reaches to pat the cat. The cat hisses again at River. “He doesn’t like me.”

  I can’t help but laugh. I lean down, and scratch under the cat’s chin. “Okay, I have to go, but I’ll bring you food.”

  Meow.

  “Do you want company?” River asks.

  “You don’t have work?”

  “I just finished a job, and my next job starts in two hours. So I have two hours to kill. I thought I could come by and help.” He looks toward the house, then back to me.

  “Charlie might need a hand.”

  River’s smile drops slightly. “Sure.” He nods, and walks up to the house.

  Ugh. I can’t believe I did that. There’s a question that’s been burning in my mind since the moment I saw him, but I feel so conflicted. I know I have no right to ask, but in a way I do, too. I owe it to myself to find out as much as I can about what happened. “River,” I call before he disappears inside. He turns, and I walk toward him, meeting at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll go out with you for dinner, but,” I hold up a finger before he gets too confident. “We’re only going as friends. Nothing else. Because I deserve to know the truth.”

  He nods as he takes in a deep breath and lowers his gaze. “That’s fair,” he says. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “Hey, didn’t you hear what I said. This isn’t a date. I’ll drive myself to wherever we’re going.”

  “The only reason I said I’ll pick you up, is because you’re still new here, and don’t know the town or neighboring towns like I do. But okay, I respect you, and if you want to drive yourself, then I’ll message the address to you. I assume it’s okay if I make the reservations?”

  What a brazen bastard. “Yes, that’s fine.”

  “Okay. Until tonight.” He goes into the house, where I hear him call, “Charlie. You need a hand, man?”

  I head back to my truck, and I’m happy to find the cat is nowhere to be seen. I have to remember to stop in town on the way back from checking out flooring, to get supplies for the cat.

  The convenience store is small, but packed with a lot of things. The range isn’t overly large, but there’s enough of everything to get through.

  “You must be Hope,” the man behind the counter calls as I peruse the tightly stocked aisles.

  I pop my head out when I hear my name. “Sorry?”

  The older man behind the counter, says something to the person he’s working with, then comes to find me. “You’re Hope, right?”

  “I am.” I smile as I look for pet food.

  “You’re fixing Old Roger’s house. There’s a huge buzz around here about what you’re going to do with it. Some of the folks were scared you were going to rip it down, but I knew from the moment you and May came to the flower festival, that you’re not into destruction, are you?”

  I could say this is creepy, but it’s kind of endearing. And weird. More weird than endearing, but whatever. “I like giving things a second chance at life.” I smile as I continue looking for cat food.

  “I must say, I’m extremely grateful you’ve decided to restore the house. It would’ve been such a shame if you tore it down.”

  “Did you know him well?” I ask.

  “I did. I’d take him his groceries every Wednesday. He’d invite me in, and he’d pour me a beer. We’d talk for an hour or so,
then I’d leave. Did that every Wednesday, for many years.”

  I notice the thinning, gray hair, and the lines of experience on his face. “I heard Old Roger’s wife died of cancer. Did he ever re-marry?” I ask, wanting to really know about the earrings, letter, and shirt I found in the tin.

  “Old Roger?” he asks, I nod. “He never loved anyone ever again after Jean passed away. It kind of broke him. Then when Henry died, it sent him over the edge. He became more of a recluse. He’d let me in though, every Wednesday, like clockwork. But the death of Henry really changed him.”

  “What’s your fondest memory of Old Roger?” I ask.

  “He loved his family with so much fierceness. One time.” He starts chuckling. “That boy of his, Henry, took Old Roger’s car and crashed it into Gran’s parents’ car. Old Roger was so mad with Henry, he made Henry go to Gran’s parents’ house every weekend for a year to do yard work to pay off the damage.”

  “Wow.”

  “Henry was only a child, maybe fourteen, or fifteen. But he went, every weekend. He’d be there as the sun rose, and he’d stay until the sun set. Old Roger had a firm way with Henry. But he was fair. Everyone respected Old Roger for being fair. One day, one of the young kids blew his mailbox up, all in fun. Old Roger didn’t get mad. Instead, he went to the kid’s parents, and told them what he did. Then told the parents the kid would have to clean his house for two months for payment.”

  “I bet that kid didn’t do that again.”

  “Next time you’re in Elle’s café, ask Murray. He was the kid.”

  “Was he?” I squeal a little too loud.

  The convenience store guy nods. He looks in my empty basket. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “Oh, yes, please. A stray cat has shown up at the house, and I’m looking for something to feed him.”

  “Is that the black cat?”

  “No, this one is gray and white.”

  “Ah, the black cat wasn’t friendly toward anyone. He’d go to Old Roger’s house, eat, then leave. He was almost like a community cat, but he disappeared once Old Roger died.” He rakes his hand through his hair. “Ha.”

  “How bizarre. This cat likes sitting in the back of my truck. Weird cat.”

  “Do you know how old the cat is because you’ll need to get him food for his age. Here.” He walks down an aisle, and I follow. “Are you adopting him?”

  “Not exactly. I thought I’d feed him because he shows up.”

  The guy laughs. “Looks like he’s adopted you. Anyway, here. Wet food, and dry food. Do you need bowls?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Here you go.” He hands me two metal bowls. “Anything else I can help with?”

  “Um, no, thank you…” I wait for his name.

  “George.”

  “Thank you, George.” I hold my hand out to him to shake, and clutch the handle of the basket in my other hand.

  “You’re welcome, Hope. Now, if you need anything, I’m here to help. I’m glad I got to meet you. Maybe, I’ll get to meet your brother, Charlie.”

  It still blows my mind that everyone knows who we are. “I’m sure you will.”

  I walk up to the cash register, where George rings up my purchases.

  Past

  The music is loud, and I’ve been drinking since we got to the club.

  “That guy’s checking you out,” Lydia yells over the loud music.

  “I don’t care,” I reply as I look at who she’s pointing out.

  “Come on. You can’t celebrate your twenty-first without a guy. Pick someone, and have a one-night-stand,” she says.

  “Who’s having a one-night-stand?” Annabella asks.

  Lydia and Annabella are the girlfriends of a couple of guys I work with, and they’re great fun to hang with. But sometimes I think they forget I’m not into one-night stands. Not since the one guy I picked up, and went back to his place. He failed miserably at everything sex-related. “I’m not having a one-night stand with anyone.”

  “Come on, it’s not like you and Grady are serious.”

  “We’re not anything. We’re just friends.”

  “Then you can have a one-nighter with someone. Look around, and pick someone. Anyone. If Grady and you aren’t bumping uglies, especially on your birthday, then you have to screw someone tonight.”

  “No, I’m not doing that anymore. I’m happy just being here with you two. And I think Charlie and his girlfriend will be here soon too.” I check my phone, in case Charlie’s messaged. He hasn’t, of course. That’s normal for him.

  “What about him?” Annabella says as she picks her drink up to sip.

  I don’t even bother looking. I grab my drink, slam it back, and stand. “I’m going to dance. You coming?”

  “After my drink.” Lydia holds up her half-full glass.

  “Me too.” Annabella copies Lydia.

  I walk out to the dance floor, close my eyes, and move to the music. This feels fantastic. Just me, and the seduction of rhythmic music. I feel a pair of hands on my hips. I open my eyes, and turn to see the guy who was staring at me, grinding up against me. “I’m gay, and not interested,” I say to him.

  “It’s okay, baby.” He grips me harder.

  “Not interested,” I say again, then smack his hands off me.

  “Come on, baby. It’s just a dance.”

  What is it with guys and baby? “I said no.”

  He leans in and says, “You’re a bitch. I could’ve rocked your world.”

  “I’ve been disappointed enough today. I don’t need to see your micro penis to add to my frustration.”

  “Fuck you,” he says as he grabs his crotch and thrusts toward me.

  Thankfully, he leaves. Closing my eyes, I get myself back into the rhythm the music playing. Swaying and moving to the side, I give myself over to the bass. The DJ layers Rolling Stones songs, making the old tunes so interesting.

  Another pair of hands grip my hips. I swear, I’m going to kick this guy so damn hard he’ll be shitting out my shoe for a month. Opening my eyes, I clench my jaw, and turn to find myself staring into the beautiful dark eyes of someone I never thought I’d see again.

  “River?” I yell as I stop dancing.

  “Hey.” He leans down, and gives me a small kiss on my cheek.

  “What… how? I… what?”

  He laughs. We’re moving together to the music, but the music has now been long forgotten. “Drink?”

  “Yeah.” We entwine our fingers together and he leads us off the dance floor. Lydia and Annabella both stare as we walk past them, hand-in-hand. I smile, and give them a small nod. We approach the bar, and River turns to me. “White Russian,” I say.

  “White Russian, and scotch, neat.”

  Oh, scotch, neat. Sexy. River pays for our drinks, and we take them to an available booth, away from Lydia and Annabella. I look over to them, and both are staring. Annabella gives me two thumbs up and nods eagerly. She then brings her hand up to her ear, making a telephone gesture. Call me tomorrow, she mouths. She’s presumptuous. But yeah, she’s probably right. My twenty-first and River. Thank you, God!

  I nod before taking a sip of my third White Russian so far tonight.

  “What happened?” River asks, breaking the non-existent ice between us. I know exactly what he’s referring to.

  “You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

  “Try me. At first I thought you were ghosting me, then when I came back, I found out you moved. I even got on social media to try and find you.”

  I shake my head, trying to forget what happened. “After that night.” I indicate with a flippant hand gesture. “You dropped me off home, and I went to bed so happy. When I woke in the morning, I quickly discovered that I’d lost my phone.”

  I watch as River’s eyes widen, then close before he drops his chin. “Shit.”

  “Yeah. I went back to where your grandmother had her birthday party, begging for a phone number, but they refused to give
it to me. So I pleaded for them to call whoever organized it, to get in contact with you.”

  “No one called, or Mom would’ve told me.”

  “Yep, and then we moved.” Even saying all this aloud sounds ridiculous. “I joined social media, and couldn’t find you.” I can see the disappointment on River’s face. “I searched for you,” I said.

  “I came back to find you, but there was nothing. No forwarding address. Nothing. It was like you disappeared.”

  It took me a long time to get over River. He was my first love, and the man who took my virginity. Just like I was his first too. It’s almost like it’s cosmic; the universe pushes us together, only to tear us apart.

  “Tell me you’re not seeing anyone?” River asks.

  Grady immediately pops into my mind. I’m not feeling guilty because nothing has happened. I could probably grow to love Grady, but River… I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since the night we lost our virginity to each other, and it feels like not a single hour has passed. “I’m not with anyone.” But I also feel like I owe River the truth. Not like I’m lying though, because nothing’s happening with Grady. “But there is someone who I’m kind of seeing.”

  River picks his drink up, stills his hand before it reaches his mouth. “Oh.” He lowers his hand without taking a sip. His shoulders slightly drop before he asks, “How serious is it?”

  “We’ve gone out twice, and we haven’t even kissed. We’re still kinda getting to know each other.”

  River smiles, obviously feeling okay with what I just told him. “Good.”

  “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”

  River’s face tenses. His eyes slightly widen, and his jaw stiffens. “I was,” he pauses and takes a long breath. “But I’m not now.” He drops his gaze for a split second, before lifting it to look into my eyes.

  He’s never been untruthful to me, so I shouldn’t worry. But he seems unusually tense, like he’s under pressure. Still, that could be anything. It doesn’t have to be related to this woman he’s no longer with. It could be work, home, anything.