A young waitress, maybe twenty or so stopped at our table, “What can I get for y'all?” she asked in a hurried tone until her eyes landed on Rys and then her demeanor changed completely.
“Wings tonight. We’ll have a dozen buffalo, a dozen garlic parmesan, and a dozen BBQ. Throw some ranch and bleu cheese on there too.”
I gaped at him; he just ordered for me.
“What?” he asked when the waitress finally took her eyes off of him, and walked away to put our order in.
“You ordered for me.”
“Perfect gentleman, remember? I’m a Southern boy, that’s what we do.”
“Hmpf,” I let out.
“Elaborate on hmpf.”
“Southern boy,” I said shaking my head.
“Okay, you’re right. I’m all man,” he smirked.
“So, Maple. This boyfriend…”
“Ex,” I corrected.
“So, this ex. How long were you two together?”
“Too long.”
“Sounds serious?” he asked.
“Serious enough that we lived together, but not serious enough that I’d marry him. Funny thing is that I’m not even that heartbroken. I’m mostly just ticked.”
“Then, what were you doing living with him?” he asked curiously.
“I honestly don't know. I guess it was just comfortable. We probably should’ve ended things a lot sooner,” I paused for a minute soaking in the truth that I had just laid out. Deep down, I knew he wasn’t the one. “What’s your story, Keenan Rys?”
“Why do you keep calling me Keenan Rys?”
“It’s your name,” I shrugged although I wasn't quite sure why I was doing it, only that I liked it. “Your story?” I prompted again.
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, friends get to know each other, right? So, tell me about you.”
“Alright, I’m thirty-five. Divorced. Moved around a lot when I got out of the service. Then, one day I talked to Mom and she told me Earl wasn't doing well. She asked for help, so I came home. Been here helping Earl ever since.”
“Do you work?”
“Yes, I work. I have a construction business with a small crew,” he said this in a way that said any man that was any type of man worked.
Our waitress returned and set down a plethora of wings. Her eyes were still glued to Rys. I had to clear my throat to get her to look my way, “May I have a Coke, please?” I asked.
She shook her head for a moment as if she had to clear herself from the stupor that looking at Keenan Rys could induce.
“Sure, right away,” she said and walked away.
I shook my head at Rys.
“What?” he asked taking a bite of his wing.
“That girl is practically drooling over you. Didn't you notice?”
“Not really,” he shrugged and ate another wing in one quick bite. How he managed to get all of the meat off so quickly was beyond me. That man must have a talented mouth.
“Oh please. I’m not buying it,” I said, and then ate my wing drenched in ranch and buffalo sauce like I was out with my girlfriends and with not a care in the world.
“Very hot,” he joked.
“It’s super spicy. I wish your little girlfriend would come back here with my Coke,” I said gulping down half of my water.
A second later, my wish was granted and my Coke was delivered. We ate our wings and got on the topic of music. Our conversation flowed with ease.
“I’ll take Luke Bryan and Alan Jackson any day,” he said in between wings.
“What? No way. How can they even compare? It’s too twangy. I love a little Carrie Underwood, though.”
“She’s way too poppy.”
“My point exactly, and Luke Bryan isn’t?”
“Okay, fine. I concede. Country music is turning into pop music.”
“Finally, he sees reason!” I exclaimed and was suddenly very aware of what a good time I was having with my new “friend”.
Dinner passed way too quickly. I found myself enjoying my time with him. Every once and awhile, he would make me laugh and I would stop myself mid-laugh. I didn't want to like him, but the more I got to know him the more I realized that he genuinely was a nice guy. It was dangerous for me to be around him.
When dinner ended, Rys asked me if I want to get a drink with him, but I politely declined. I needed to talk with Grams tomorrow and find out why she hadn’t been honest with me and that was a conversation I didn't want to have with a hangover.
The bill came, and I reached for it. Rys placed his hand on top of mine and said, “No, you don't, Maple. I got this.”
“Men pay on dates.”
“We’re not on a date, remember? We’re two friends getting to know each other. That’s it.”
“Oh, I remember, but you need to remember this. The key word you just said was men. I am a man, and whether I am out to lunch with my mom or having dinner with a friend that just happens to be a woman, I pay.”
I let out a “hmph,” knowing I was not going to win this battle. One thing I was learning, was that Keenan Rys was most definitely a man who was raised in the South. He wouldn’t let me tell him how it was. No, he was firm in his Southern ways. He knew how a man was supposed to behave and he wouldn’t be told differently. Oddly, I found this refreshing. One thing that started to drive me nuts about Bradley was that I controlled the relationship. I told him what we were having for dinner and what our plans were. It got to the point that if I ever asked him what he wanted, his answer was ‘you choose.’ This can be nice, but after a while, a woman wants a man to be a man. Wait a minute! Did I just mentally compare Rys to Bradley?
“Fine, you pay, but I’m sending you home with something.” I said with a smile, then added, “Thank you for dinner.”
As we made our way to the door, I heard someone call my name.
“No fucking way! Maple? I didn't think this town would ever see you again. And look at you! Damn woman! Time has been good to you.”
I couldn't believe who I was looking at. Of all the people to run into, I run into Alex. His hair was sandy, but was mostly tucked under a baseball cap. Time had been kind to him, as well. He was fit in a, ‘I work on my farm all day’ kind of way. The men around here didn't need a gym, they were country buff.
“Alex, it’s been a long time,” I said not sure how I felt about seeing him.
“Alex,” Rys greeted him and by the first name acknowledgment I could tell they knew each other. It was a small town, so it was really no surprise.
“Well, come here girl,” he said ignoring Rys, then hugged me picking me up off the ground. I was taken aback. I expected a reaction when I saw Alex again, but this wasn’t it.
The last time I saw him was after he and I had had way too much to drink at a party. It was a coin flip on who would drive. I broke my femur when I crashed into a tree. I also was the cause of our town’s prized quarterback no longer able to finish the season due to the fact that his wrist was shattered and had to be reconstructed.
It’s something I’d struggled with over the years. I’d felt terrible. Logically, I knew that either one of us could have been to blame, but it didn't stop me from feeling the guilt that I could have killed him. I could have killed myself. I could have been just like her.
Since I was a minor, the incident didn't land me in prison. Once my leg healed, I spent hours of community service in the same nursing home that Grams’ place was associated with. I tried to stay away from the people in this town after that. They hated me, and I didn't blame them. Alex was angry, rightfully so. As soon as I graduated, I found a guy passing through and moved around with him. It was the start of my ‘relocation-with-the-next-best-thing’ lifestyle.
“Alex, put me down,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“Geez, you look great, Maple. I had no idea you were back. Have you been home long? Are you staying?” he shot off questions as he set me down.
Rys moved close to me, placing a hand on my
shoulder. It felt possessive, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I gave Rys a quick questioning glance, and then answered Alex, “Looks like I’m here for a while, at least. What about you? How are you? How’s the wrist?” I winced, afraid of the answer.
“Good as new. Like it never happened, Maple.”
“You’re so laid back about it. All this time, I thought you’d hate me,” I said conscious of the fact that Rys was standing beside me and I was going to have to make an apology in front of him. I wasn’t one to wait though, and I was certainly not one to bite my tongue simply because a good looking man was standing next to me.
“Well, I wasn't your biggest fan. When I finally healed and was able to get out of my old man’s sight for more than ten minutes I figured out you high-tailed it out of here with some douche.”
I ignored his comment about high-tailing it out of here, because it was true, “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about that night and wished one of us was smart enough to call Grams. I’m so sorry.”
Rys removed his hand from my shoulder and positioned himself behind me, placing a hand on my hip. This was intimate. This was not what friends did, but I couldn't call him out on it in front of Alex, whom I’d owed this apology to for far too long.
Alex noticed. I could tell by the way he subtly squinted his eyes on Rys. His eyes were saying ‘Watch it, buddy. I had her first.’
“I never blamed you, Maple. I don't care what this town thought. I never thought it. We should get together sometime. Catch up?”
“She’s busy,” Rys said and my whole body tensed. Oh, no, he didn't. It was bad enough he was trying to make it seem like we were more than what we were by putting with his hand on my hip, but I was not okay with him speaking for me.
“I’m working at Iggy’s. Stop in, I’ll buy you a beer.”
“Then, I’ll be seeing you, Maple,” he winked and walked away.
Once we are in the cab of the truck, I whirled on Rys, “What was that? Acting all possessive with your hand on my hip and then the whole, ‘she’s busy’. We’re friends, Rys. Friends don't speak for the other person, and they don't put their hand on their hip practically claiming them in front of another man.”
“Maple, you don't know who that man has become. You might have known him, but people change. So yes, friends do act possessive when they know that the man sniffing around their ‘friend’ is known more for sleeping his way through most of the female population in this town, not caring if they’re married, not caring if that married woman’s kids are home when he’s banging her, not caring about anything, but himself. Then, once he’s ruined that woman’s marriage, or sleeps with her best friend, he leaves. It doesn't matter to Alex, if he hurts a woman. Alex only cares about getting his. That’s it. That’s all he wants. So pardon me, if I was trying to keep him off of your scent. I didn't really think after what you’ve just been through with your ex that this would be what you’re looking for. So, don't worry I wasn't claiming you. When I claim you, there will be no questions on what I’m doing. When I claim a woman, she’s mine, and she knows it,” he said, and started the truck.
One major thing stood out for me in his speech. Besides the fact that Alex was still a dog, Rys said, ‘when I claim you.’ Was he talking in the general sense, or was he saying he was going to claim me? I was silenced by his words. I didn't have a rebuttal. The ride to my place was quiet. Rys opened his mouth again as he turned on to Grams’ street. “What’s the story with him that you needed to apologize as soon as you saw him?”
I had a feeling this was coming. I mean, how could he not ask?
“Senior year, Alex was my on again/off again boyfriend. I was wild. I had lots of boyfriends and partied like no tomorrow. One night, Alex and I went to a party. We both got drunk and smoked a bunch of pot. And then, when it came time to go home, we flipped a coin to decide who would drive. I lost the coin toss, then lost control of the car. I broke my leg and shattered his wrist.”
“And then, you healed and got out of here?” he asked finishing my story from what he must have surmised from my conversation with Alex.
“Pretty much,” I agreed nodding my head, “I was young and stupid. I can't believe how easy Alex let that go. I thought he’d hate me. I’ve held on to the guilt for so long, and it didn't seem like he was really bothered by it.”
“Is that one of the things that have kept you away from home?” he asked pulling into the driveway.
“One of many,” I sighed and put my hand on the door handle about to open the door when I heard Rys say in a stern voice, “Maple.”
I waited in the cab for him to come around and help me down. I was not testing him anymore tonight. “You,” I pointed at Rys, “wait here one second.” I hurriedly ran into the house and grabbed a jar of apple butter. I felt like I needed to do something for him. I ran back out and found Rys leaning against his truck with a smirk on his face. “Here, as a thank you for dinner,” I said handing him the jar. I was slightly embarrassed and my cheeks tinged pink.
He looked at the jar curiously and I said, “Keep it refrigerated. It’s fantastic on toast, muffins, pastry, pretty much everything. It will keep for about a week.”
He smiled at me. Those two dimples made me want to melt. He leaned forward and hugged me, “Thanks, friend,” he said, then turned and opened his truck door. Before getting in, he added, “If this is half as good as your pie, I think I can die a happy man.”
He liked my pie. Why did that thought make me smile?
I had been working on the house and at the bar for the last week and a half. Grams had been elusive and it was driving me nuts. Before my shift started tonight, I was going to the Senior Center. I wasn’t calling first. I was hoping an ambush would finally get her to talk to me and tell me what the heck was going on.
The Senior Center was busy. Are they giving out free Viagra today? I thought and chuckled to myself until I saw that there were, in fact, a few vendors passing out pamphlets that were indeed for Viagra. What kind of place was this? Viagra wasn’t the only vendor here. There must be some type of mini health fair going on. A nurse was set up taking blood pressure, and a table was set up from a funeral home selling gravesites, right next to a financial planner.
I spotted Grams with the same group of friends she plays cards with, only today there was a group of men surrounding them. Some I had met and some were new. Grams had her head thrown back laughing and Bob threw his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her to his side. And the reason for her laughter, Merv the Perv was on bended knee singing to Sugar, “Sugar, oh honey honey, you are my candy girl and you got me wanting you.” He had flowers outstretched to her only I noticed that in his back pocket was one of the brochures in bold blue lettering that read, ‘It ain’t going to fix itself’.
I laughed a good belly laugh at Merv and Grams finally noticed me. “Maple, I didn’t know you were coming,” she said shrugging out of Bob’s embrace and opening her arms to me. I folded into the embrace easily.
“Maple,” Bob said and hugged me next. It was strange since I didn't know him that well, “I wish I had known you were coming. We’re all about to go play a few holes of golf. I have golf carts reserved for ten. I bet we could squeeze you in,” Bob offered.
“That’s sweet of you, but Maple hates golf,” Grams told Bob.
Grams wasn't lying, golf was not my sport.
“Grams, I was really hoping I could talk to you? When are you leaving?”
“Tee time is in twenty,” she said looking at her watch. “Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything is fine, but I do need to talk to you. Can you schedule me in?” I asked with a bit of edge to my voice since I felt like she’d been avoiding me since I had returned.
“There’s a cocktail party, Sunday, by the pool. Why don't you join us, Maple?” Bob asked sensing my unhappiness.
“Okay, I’ll be there. Grams let me know if I can bring anything.”
“You bring tequila,
I’ll have margarita mix,” Grams said smiling as if she hadn’t been ignoring my calls for the last week.
“Alright, Grams. I’ll see you then,” I said and kissed her cheek, then waved goodbye to everyone. I was disappointed, yet again, that we hadn't talked. Could it be that her social life was that full, or was she avoiding me? It hurt a little. In the years that I had been away, we’d always talked. I’d always felt like she was my number one supporter, and now when I was near, it felt like for the first time in my life that Grams didn't want to deal with me. Could Grams just be over all of my drama? That question burned the back of my throat and I had to swallow and calm myself to make sure I didn't cry.
The bar was already packed when I walked in ten minutes early for my shift. “Thank God, you’re here. My kid’s sick and the babysitter keeps calling. I’ve only been here an hour, and she’s called twice,” Sasha, one of the other bartenders, said as she reached under the bar and grabbed her purse.
“Tell her Iggy said she hopes she feels better,” Iggy patted Sasha on the back and continued, “and don't worry ‘bout a thing with work. We got it covered.” Iggy said to Sasha, then turned to me, “Looks like it’s just the two of us, Maple. Prepare to get your ass kicked. I’m going for a smoke be back in five,” she grabbed her smokes and walked outside, briefly illuminating the bar.
To say we were getting our butt kicked was an understatement. The bar was packed with all different walks of life. A group of young twenty-somethings hovered around the Juke box while a larger group of middle-aged bikers, who were friendly with Iggy, took up several of the high tops.
I was so busy pouring drinks that I barely looked up to see who was ordering. It was pandemonium at its finest.
“What can I get for you?” I asked another person who looked just like the last.
“Four firebombs,” he said.
Another customer and forty-five seconds later, I was asking the same thing. This time, that familiar deep timber made me look up, “Budweiser,” he said and I was momentarily stunned to see Rys standing there. I hadn't seen him since our dinner and a brief glance at him had me remembering all the ways he was bad for me, because with his dark hair, nice build, and captivating eyes, he was so right for me.
Tainted by Crazy Page 7
