6+ Us Makes Eight_Baby Makes Three

by Nicole Elliot

  It sounded like I was going to have to make a stop at a junkyard before I made my way back home.

  After scouring through a junkyard and finding a few things, I headed to the grocery store. One of the things about heavy rain storms like the ones we were getting was that it washed away the seeds I planted. I knew I was going to have to start over with the little garden I planted in the back of my cabin, which meant I needed fresh vegetables until I could sprout my own.

  I walked through the grocery store and grabbed a few items. Things like toilet paper and cleaning supplies. Kleenexes and paper plates. I didn't have a lot of proper dishware in my cabin because the only person eating it was me. Paper plates, napkins, and plastic silverware just made things easier for me. I walked through the produce section and pick out a few things I knew I could use. Nice red peppers and some spaghetti squash as well as some vegetables that were already chunked up so I could make a nice stir fry. I ran down some recipes through my mind as I walked up and down the aisles, grabbing snacks I didn't need and a case of beer just to help the time fly by.

  But when I turn down the spice aisle to pick up some things for dinner, I saw a very familiar face.

  There she was, with her long brown hair and her dazzling hazel eyes. She carried a small handheld basket as she stuck a few spices in her carrying case. It was the first time I had gotten a good look at her since I found her on the side of the road. I got a moment to take in just how beautiful she was. Her rounded hips and her luscious breasts. The way her hair cascaded down her back and the way her legs were toned and full. She stood with her shoulders rolled back even though she was hunched over a spice, her teeth biting down on her lower lip as she concentrated.

  My eyes scanned Ava as she stood there, turning the bottle of cumin around in her hand.

  “It’s a good spice,” I said.

  I watched her eyes whip over to mine and take me in.

  “If you’ve never tried it before. It’s a good all-around spice,” I said.

  “I have,” she said. “Tried it, I mean.”

  “I thought you said you lived in Seattle.”

  “I do. I mean, yes. On the outskirts of the city. But my parents own a house not too far from here,” she said.

  “Which mountain?” I asked.

  “They aren’t on one,” she said.

  “So, you didn’t recognize the area when you got lost?”

  “Never been up the mountains. I thought my GPS was taking me through a shortcut. I hit some traffic coming in on the main road and I told my phone application to reroute me.”

  “Yeah. You’ll hit a lot of traffic on Main Street. It’s the only way in and out of Kettle,” I said.

  Her eyes settled onto mine as a small grin twitched her cheek.

  “I’m sorry I never called you or anything. To thank you properly for fixing my car. But I didn’t have your number and you struck me as the kind of person that isn’t listed in any phone book,” Ava said.

  “Well, I don’t have a cell phone, so it wouldn’t have done you any good,” I said.

  “Ah,” she said.

  I watched her stick the bottle of cumin in her cart before she turned her body toward me.

  “Could I buy you a cup of coffee?” she asked. “You know, to thank you for fixing my car.”

  “You don’t need to thank me.”

  “You’re just glad I got home safe?” she asked.

  “Not really,” I said. “I’m glad that you’re safe, but not that you went back home.”

  “Oh,” she said.

  “But, if you want to buy me a cup of coffee and just… sit and talk… that would be fine.”

  Her eyes lit up and I had no idea why that made me as happy as it did.

  The two of us walked around the grocery store together until we had everything we needed. Then we went through the lines, purchased our stuff, then stored it in our cars before we went to get coffee. She followed me to this coffee shop I was familiar with. It was the only place in Kettle where someone could get a decent cup of coffee. I ushered her into the shop and the two of us ordered, and I tried to convince her to let me pay.

  But she wasn't having it.

  “I told you, I’m buying it,” Ava said.

  “Then the next one’s on me,” I said.

  “Deal.”

  “So,” I said as I grabbed my cup, “what happened when you got home?”

  “The usual. My parents tried to railroad me, my brothers came to my rescue, they helped bail me out, and now I’m back to figuring out how I can get away,” she said.

  “How many brothers do you have?” I asked.

  “Three. Do you have any siblings?”

  “I do. Two twin brothers. Both younger than me,” I said.

  “Do they live on the mountain, too?” she asked.

  “Nope. But they do live in Kettle. Just on different mountains. My parents moved to Florida a couple of years back, but we stayed here.”

  “Born and raised?” she asked.

  “Yep. You?”

  “In Seattle, yes.”

  “Did you enjoy it there?” I asked.

  “I enjoyed it when I wasn’t at home. I loved my schools and the friends I made. But once my father started having opinions on who I was to hang out with, only one of my friends made the cut.”

  “Your father doesn’t sound like a very nice man,” I said.

  “I’m sure he’s got his redeeming qualities somewhere, but I don’t see them. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about them.”

  “Then what would you like to talk about.”

  “You,” she said.

  My eyes rose and connected with hers as she took a sip of her coffee. She eyed me carefully, like she was sizing me up. And I couldn’t blame her. I was still a stranger to her. A stranger that couldn’t get her out of my thoughts at night.

  “What do you want to know?” I asked.

  “Have you always been a recluse?” she asked.

  “I’m not a recluse.”

  “You live on a mountain by yourself with no friends to speak of.”

  “I have friends,” I said.

  “What are their names?”

  “Leo and Jasper,” I said.

  “Those are your twin brothers, aren’t they?” she asked.

  “Why can’t they be friends as well as siblings? Aren’t you friends with your brothers?”

  “Yes, but they don’t count.”

  “That’s not fair. You just said they counted.”

  Ava giggled as she took a sip of her coffee and the sound warmed my chest. Her smile lit up her bright hazel eyes, pulling from them yellow specks that reminded me of the sun. She was easy to talk to. Easy to banter back and forth with. It had been a long time since I enjoyed mindless conversation like this with someone.

  And it had been even longer since I had been willing to open up about myself.

  “What do you do for a living?” Ava asked.

  “For now, I’m an investor of sorts. Until it’s time for me to take over the family business,” I said.

  “Ah, so you have one of those, too.”

  “One of those what?” I asked.

  “Pesky family businesses. We have one of those. But I’m not allowed anywhere near it because I don’t have a penis.”

  “Good piece of information to know,” I said.

  “I don’t understand that. Why I can’t be a part of the family business because I’m a woman.”

  “I don’t get it, either. It’s an archaic notion. Some of the world’s top companies were built and are currently run by women,” I said.

  “I could do great things with that company if my father would just get out of my way,” she said.

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk about them.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said, grinning.

  “Right now, I’m living off the trust fund that opened up when I turned thirty. I worked for my family’s business all through college and set all of it aside in savi
ngs. But life happened and it threw me down a different path, so when my trust fund opened up I invested it wisely. I live off my savings and the quarterly dividends I get from some of the companies I’ve invested in,” I said.

  “Sounds smart. You’re a smart man, Mr. Travis Benson,” she said. “I’d love to live like that. Off money I invested so I wouldn’t have to deal with people. You’ve got the life.”

  “It was a very hard road getting here, so I wouldn’t be too envious of it,” I said.

  “Why?” she asked.

  I sighed as I looked up into Ava’s eyes.

  “It just was,” I said.

  “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine,” she said.

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Okay. What’s your favorite color?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your favorite color.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t. It’s a change of subject. That’s what you wanted, right?” she asked.

  I snickered and shook my head as I took another sip of my coffee.

  “You’re a piece of work, you know that?” I asked.

  But then, a movement caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.

  I turned my head over toward the shadow, but there was no one over there. I studied the darkened corner and could’ve sworn I saw the outline of someone there, but Ava’s voice pulled me back to the conversation.

  “I try to be,” she said. “My favorite color’s yellow, by the way.”

  “For your sunny disposition?” I asked.

  “No. Because I really like lemonade,” she said.

  The two of us sat there and talked for hours, but now I had this darkness looming over me. It felt like someone was watching us. Like someone knew we were sitting together. I wasn’t sure why that weirded me out as much as it did, but I tried my best not to alert Ava to my worry. With everything mounting between my family’s company and Breathline Energies, I had to prepare myself for the idea that someone might be watching what I was doing.

  “Travis? You okay?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “You look a bit dazed,” I said. “Am I boring you already?”

  “Nope. You were talking about how if you went to college, you’d get a business degree, wait out your parents, then take your family’s company over anyway,” I said.

  “So you were listening,” she said, grinning.

  “To you? Yes,” I said.

  I looked back over at that corner and it was now filled with people. The corner was no longer dark, and in its place was a shelving of books and board games. I shook the feeling from my mind as Ava continued to talk about all the things she wanted to do with her life. I needed to not get so paranoid.

  After all, it wasn’t like I was doing anything that could get my family’s company in trouble. Just having some coffee with a beautiful woman with a fire in her gut to make something of herself.

  There was nothing wrong with that.

  Nine

  Ava

  The library was quiet this morning. People came and went with checkouts and returns, but I was tucked away in my little corner. It was my favorite spot in all of Kettle. Well, the part of Kettle I knew. My father kept close tabs on me whenever we were in town. Always wanted to know where I was going, what I was doing, why I was doing it, and when I would be back. Things were a little looser whenever we were in Seattle, but that was mostly because I had a driver to cart me around everywhere.

  I knew the driver reported back to my father on our whereabouts.

  But in Kettle, I was granted more freedoms. I could drive on my own and even go out with my brothers. But if I did, I had to be very specific with what was happening, and my brothers came under scrutiny whenever we came home. So, I didn’t go out much with them. I hated subjecting them to that kind of torture whenever we would come in from dancing or hanging out at the coffee shop.

  The library was my favorite place for two reasons. One, my father would let me stay here as long as I wanted for reasons I still didn’t understand. And two? It was quiet. No questions. No judgement. And certainly no risk of impropriety anywhere. I would tuck myself away in my favorite corner with the latest books the library shipped in and I would read. For hours. It was how I escaped. It was how I envisioned other lives for myself. It was how I learned about the great businesswomen and how they succeeded in their lives.

  All of my education came from books. My understanding of the business world. My understanding of mathematics. My understanding of politics and history and love. All of it came from the books that surrounded me. Here, no one kept up with me. Here, no one tried to influence what I read. Here, I was allowed to make my own decisions regarding where I wanted to sit, how I wanted to sit, and what I wanted to read.

  I loved the library.

  But sometimes, it was shit.

  Like today, for instance. Word had already circulated that I had been in a car accident. I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know who started it, but everyone who saw me in my little corner came up and asked me if I was all right. If the storm had caught me off guard. They asked me all sorts of things, like what roads I had gotten lost on and what roads I needed to stay away from. It seemed that everyone in Kettle knew I had broken down somewhere and floundered during the storm.

  I just hoped and prayed they didn’t understand anything more than that.

  Kettle was a smaller town. It spanned the length and width of many mountains, but very few people lived here. So gossip spread like wildfire. And if you didn’t want to be caught up in it, then you didn’t come into town. Ever. But if I wanted the library, I had to come into town. Which meant I was met with people who kept interrupting me every page just to make sure I was okay.

  Which was code for “figure out exactly what happened.”

  “Miss Ava, I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  I looked up from my book and stared directly into the eyes of Miss Mabel.

  “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it,” I said. “It wasn’t a bad accident. The car runs just fine. The water just took me off the road a bit.”

  “Do you know what road you were on?” Miss Mabel asked.

  “No, ma’am. I’m sorry. I was so frantic and there was so much rain pouring down that I didn’t get a chance to look at any signs,” I said.

  “That makes sense. You were probably up in those mountains anyway.”

  I stiffened at her response as she sat down in the chair next to me.

  “Don’t worry about it. No one’s gonna tell your father. He’s a sweet man, but we know he rules with an iron fist,” Mabel said.

  “My father is a decent man,” I said.

  “Spoken like a true robot,” she said with a giggle. “I’m familiar with men like your father. Mine was one of them, too.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I said.

  “Abides by tradition. Looms over your every move. Expects you to look and act a certain way. I hated growing up with my father.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.

  “My favorite game was to swing around the columns of our porch out back and fantasize what it would be like to live without my father. I used to dream of owning my own home, buying my own clothes, and going to the school I wanted.”

  “At least you got to go to school,” I murmured.

  I swallowed hard and looked up into Miss Mabel’s sparkling eyes. Mabel was a force in the community of Kettle. Her father had been the mayor for quite some time, which was a position her grandfather and her great grandfather used to occupy. Her family was well-known, well-off, and well-spoken in their manners. Her eyes were comforting and her smile was knowing. I felt that I could trust her, even though I’d only ever had a few conversations with her. She seemed to understand my circumstance more than most, and as she settled back into her chair, I drew in a deep breath.

  “I was never really in any trouble anywa
y,” I said.

  “So you did get lost up there in the mountains,” Mabel said. “Don’t worry. I’ve done that more times than I could count.”

  “There was a man that helped me. Travis Benson. He’s the one that got my car up and running the next day so I could get home,” I said.

  “Travis Benson?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. Quiet man? Big beard? Light brown eyes?”

  “No, no. I know who he is. I’m just shocked he helped,” she said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “First off, I’m shocked you don’t know the name. The Bensons own half of Kettle. Travis lives in the part of the mountains they own. But he’s been a recluse ever since that disgusting woman broke his heart.”

  “What woman?” I asked.

  “Alicia Burnheart, and her last name suits her perfectly. A gold-digging, good-for-nothing woman who had that man wrapped around her finger. Those two were all over one another, and when they announced their engagement, no one was shocked.”

  “Engagement?” I asked. “I don’t think I can see Travis engaged.”

  “Maybe not now. But back then? In his early twenties? He was a stunner. Still is, if he’d trim himself up a bit. They planned the wedding of the century.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “She never showed up. Left him standing at the altar making excuses for two hours before Travis accepted the fact that she wasn’t showing up.”

  “What?” I asked flatly.

  “She did. Rumor has it she ran off with one of the groomsmen. But I don’t think that’s what happened.”

  “What do you think happened?” I asked.

  “I think his mother intervened. That woman always thought there was something off about Miss Burnheart. I think she saved her son from a great deal of grief he would’ve suffered later. Either way, he hasn’t been the same since. Travis, that is.”

  “Well, I don’t think anyone can blame him.”

  “It wasn’t too long after that he renounced his job in the family business and had that cabin built for him. He built one for all of his children, the head of the Benson clan. Everyone was heartbroken after that wedding. I think he did it partially out of grief.”