The Outskirts

by T. M. Frazier

  a pastry. Some sort of donut wrapped in sugar and cinnamon. “I don’t think that was it.”

  All thoughts of Finn were momentarily smashed from my mind. “Holy hell that’s good,” I said with a mouth full of pastry deliciousness.

  “Ha,” Josh laughed. “I like it when you swear.”

  That’s exactly what Finn had said.

  “Let me ask you this.” Josh leaned on her elbows against the counter. Her fluffy pink robe opening at the neck to expose a t-shirt that read MILLER SUCKS. “I know for a fact that the swamp shack only has one bedroom and one bed. After Miller checked on you the other night, where did Finn sleep?”

  “On the couch,” I replied, the lie getting stuck on my tongue on the way out. Since I was terrible at lying, I switched to avoidance. I lifted my bag and started rummaging around with the contents like I was looking for something.

  “Uh huh,” Josh said. “Sure, he did.”

  “So, not to change the subject,” I started.

  “But changing the subject,” Josh interrupted.

  “What’s the deal with you and Miller?” I pointed to her shirt.

  Josh tightened her robe. “I told you. He’s just Miller…” she poured herself another cup of mud-coffee.

  “That doesn’t exactly answer the question.”

  “Neither does your liiiieeee,” Josh sang. She looked me dead in the eye and we both burst out laughing until tears pooled in her eyes and my ribs ached and cheeks burned.

  For the first time in my life, I’d laughed until it hurt.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sawyer

  It was only eight and my shift didn’t start until noon. When I left Josh’s I decided that a walk around my new town was in order. I’d been an Outskirts resident for a while and had barely gone anywhere besides work and home.

  And home was no longer an option.

  I ignored the pain in my gut. I didn’t want to spend the morning dwelling on what no longer was but on the possibilities the day might bring.

  When I came across a junkyard I was about to pass right by it, not giving it too much thought, when something caught my eye. I pushed open the metal gate which had a sign on it that read LET YOURSELF IN. I passed a mound of tires and rows upon rows of kitchen sinks, making a beeline right for my target on the far side of the yard. When I reached it, I sighed and butterflies danced in my stomach.

  It was even prettier in person.

  It was a house. And not just ANY house.

  It was the house.

  The one from the billboard in town. Same white siding, blue shutters, and grey shingles. The biggest difference was that the one in front of me was split in half right down the center. The right half sat lopsided on the ground and contained the red front door. The left half remained upright, leaning against a rusted tanker truck. A flimsy sheet of plastic was stapled over the contents, but it was torn just enough so I could see inside.

  “The door was unlocked,” a deep and very familiar voice said. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the words licked across my skin like a cool breeze.

  “What door?”

  Finn stepped up so close behind me I could feel the heat radiating from his chest to my back and I resisted the temptation to lean back into him.

  “My front door,” he said. “I left it open for you last night.” His breath tickled my neck. “You weren’t there when I got home.”

  “Should I have been?”

  “Yes.”

  I felt heated in a way that even the ninety-degree weather couldn’t make me feel. “I’ve been staying at Josh’s.”

  “So I heard.” Finn stepped beside me and I got a good glimpse of his tight white t-shirt over his muscles. The stubble on his jaw made me remember how it felt against my skin when he kissed me. My neck. He glanced over and caught me staring. “You like what you see?”

  “Yes,” my answer was immediate.

  Finn chuckled and placed his hand on my head, turning me back to face the house, the entire reason why I was even in the junkyard, to begin with. I mentally prepared myself for some sort of snarky comment or for him to say something to make me feel more embarrassed than I already was, but luckily, it never came. “It’s not very big,” he said instead, taking in the house.

  “Neither am I.” I sighed with relief. “It’s perfect.”

  Finn walked up to it and tugged on the plastic covering of the upright side until it gave and fell to the ground.

  “Wait, can you do that?” I asked in a screamed whisper, looking around for anyone who could be watching.

  “It’s a junkyard. They don’t care if you break it. It’s already broken,” Finn pointed out.

  I was too short to step up into the house like Finn had done. “Here,” he held out his hand. I reached for it and he pulled me up and against him, holding me for a beat too long before finally releasing me. He smelled like cigarettes and soap.

  On the inside, I was ecstatic to find that it was ten times the size of my camper, although still pretty small. “How big do you think it is?” I asked.

  “Both halves together?” he asked. “Probably around eight hundred square feet. Give or take.”

  There was no flooring, just wood boards. “The sellers of these things usually waited to get a buyer before they put down the floors. That way whoever was buying it could choose their own,” Finn explained like he was reading my mind.

  The walls were real drywall. It had windows with white trim and marble windowsills. In the kitchen was a table style island and a big white farm sink with matching white cabinets and grey and white marbled counters. “Wow,” I said, admiring my surroundings. There was a bedroom in the back big enough for a king size bed and an attached bathroom.

  “You really like this thing?” Finn asked.

  “No, I don’t like it.” I looked around. “I love it.” I held out my arms and spun in a circle. I was drunk on the possibility that I could somehow make the house mine. “It’s like a mini version of the house I saw when I first came in. That one was three stories with a picket fence. It looked like the kind of house where people could laugh.” I turned to Finn. “Where kids are tucked into their beds at night and read bedtime stories. Where family meals are full of laughter and jokes and plans for the weekend instead of a run down of what you did wrong that day and how God wasn’t happy with girls who didn’t obey his every command. Who showed too much skin. Who wanted to go to a real school instead of being home-schooled.” I stopped when I realized I’d gone off on a tangent. Finn was watching me curiously.

  “And you didn’t have that growing up,” Finn said. It wasn’t a question.

  I shook my head and ran my hand over the counter. “No. Did you?”

  I expected him to avoid the question or change the subject but he surprised me when he said. “I had that. My mom and dad were there for every baseball and football game. My mom was the loudest in the stands and I used to be so embarrassed,” he chuckled while recalling the memory, running his hand over the stubble on his chin. “And now I think how lucky I was to have the loudest mom in the stands.”

  “Where are your parents now?”

  “Georgia mountains. Mom and Dad always talked about having white Christmases so the second I graduated high school they followed their dream.”

  “And you stayed? Why?” I asked.

  “Because I belong here,” Finn answered simply. “This is home.”

  “Josh said you moved out to the swamp a few years back. Where did you live before?” I didn’t look at him when I asked but I could see his entire body stiffen out of the corner of my eye. This time he did evade the question. Well, not so much evade as didn’t even attempt to answer.

  “Come on. Let’s go see the other side.” Finn came over to me and lifted me up by the waist, setting me down a few feet on the ground below. He followed me down in one easy hop that he made look effortless with his long legs and confident movements. He grabbed my hand and led me over to the other half of t
he house. He tore down the plastic like he’d done on the other side. When he released my hand, he kept his pressed lightly on the small of my back.

  When we entered, I was surprised to find another bedroom, a small alcove with a built-in desk, and another bathroom, this one accessible from the main living space, which would be substantial in size if the two pieces were put together.

  “Why is it in half?” I asked, running my hand over the dusty walls as I walked from room to room.

  “It’s a park model,” Finn explained, following me but staying a few steps behind.

  “Park model?” I scrunched my nose. I’d never heard the term before. “So, it’s not a real house?”

  “It’s a real house all right. It’s just constructed off site, probably in a warehouse somewhere, instead of being built directly on the land. Same destination, just two different kinds of journeys to get there,” Finn said as he watched me admire the built-in laundry room off the back bedroom. “It’s delivered to the site in two parts because it’s too big to fit on a flatbed in one piece without blocking the highway.”

  “So it CAN be put back together then?” Excitement was growing inside of me. My wheels were turning.

  “It can.” Finn’s lips turned upward in a crooked smile that made my mouth water.

  There were no appliances and everything inside and out was beyond dusty. I had no idea how long the house had been sitting there, but it was long enough for some of the laminate on the cabinets to start peeling in the corners.

  But it was salvageable.

  I glanced back to Finn and clasped my hands together. I hadn’t even realized I was smiling until he came up to me and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile,” he said; his words and touch were surprisingly soft and tender.

  I craned my neck. “Thank you again for rescuing me the other night.”

  Finn took a step back against the wall but tugged me against him so that my chest was pressed to his torso and his knee was between my legs.

  “Thank you for rescuing me,” he said, lowering his lips to mine.

  We’d barely touched when a voice broke the spell, sliding between us and breaking us apart. “Who’s out there?” a man called out. I stepped out to find Sterling coming our way. A huge dimpled smile across his clean-shaven face. “Sawyer is that you?”

  “It’s me. Hi, Sterling.” I gave him a small wave.

  “Here, let me help you down from there,” Sterling offered, grabbing my hands and lifting me to the ground.

  Finn muttered something under his breath and followed me down.

  “Finn?” Sterling asked, seemingly confused. “Wow, I didn’t see you back there.” Sterling pointed from me to Finn. “Are you…with him?” he asked hesitantly. I didn’t know if he was asking if we were there together or THERE together but either way the answer was no.

  I shook my head at the same time Finn said, “Yes.” He stared Sterling down as if he’d offended him in the worst of ways.

  Sterling cleared his throat and turned back to me. “I saw you admiring the park model. Did you know it was the one from the billboard?” he asked, smiling even bigger than before. “They used it for the ad. Never built a single one except this one before the bubble burst though. It’s been here ever since.”

  “Do you work here?” I asked. “I thought you said you owned the feed store?”

  “And the junkyard. And the paint store,” Sterling said, rubbing his hands together.

  “Wow,” I responded.

  Finn grunted.

  “You think you’d be interested in buying it?” Sterling asked, waving his hand back to the house.

  “How much is it?” Finn chimed in, snatching the words off my tongue.

  “This baby here retails for over forty thousand dollars.”

  I felt myself instantly deflate. Finn put his hand on the back of my neck and I’m not sure if it was a sign of dominance or reassurance but either way I found myself liking that he was there.

  Even if he was doing more grunting and growling than actual talking.

  “But THIS particular one,” Sterling started, wagging his finger at the house. “Can be yours for…” he moved his fingers in the air like he was calculating something. “MMMM…say seven thousand dollars, plus transport fees. So around eight thousand five hundred. Well, of course you’d have to get someone to prep the land as well. That runs right around three grand.”

  And that was that. My short-lived dreams of homeownership were gone.

  “Thanks, Sterling.” I looked back at the house. “Maybe someday.”

  “Do you need to get anything?” I asked Finn who only shook his head and led me back toward the front gate.

  “Sawyer, don’t forget I owe you that walk,” Sterling called out. “Are you working this weekend?”

  “Lunch and dinner shift,” I called back.

  Finn answered too. By tightening his grip as he led me back through the gates of the junkyard and steered me in the opposite direction of the way I’d come in. Behind the junkyard, where his boat was waiting in the waterway, tied up to a small rickety dock covered in metal and plastic hubcaps.

  “You got here by boat?” I asked.

  “You can get most anywhere in this town by boat,” he answered. “How do you know Sterling?”

  I glanced back at the junkyard “I should have looked for truck parts for Rusty,” I said.

  “Rusty?”

  “My truck. That’s what Mom called him,” I explained.

  “I have to come back this way tomorrow. I’ll look then,” Finn said.

  “I’m working tomorrow.”

  “I’ll get you what you need.”

  “But how do you know what Rusty…”

  “I know,” Finn reassured me, holding out his hand. “Now tell me how you know Sterling.”

  I was hesitant in getting in the boat with him. I took a moment to take in his appearance. He wasn’t wrinkled or disheveled. He looked tired but didn’t reek of alcohol.

  “Why are you hesitating?” Finn asked curiously, still holding out his hand.

  “I’m just…”

  Finn grabbed my hand. “I haven’t had anything to drink today. I’m not going to say I won’t, because I’d be lying but I’m not your father, Sawyer. I don’t beat on girls or women although I’ve given my fair share of beatings to men who for the most part had it coming.”

  “And some who didn’t?” I questioned.

  “Something like that.”

  “What do you do? For work?” I suddenly blurted.

  “Various things. A lot of unrelated things. Why?” Finn’s grip on my hand tightened.

  “Because maybe you should think about changing professions. You’d make an excellent mind reader,” I said, keeping my tone light.

  It worked. Finn chuckled.

  My stomach flipped and I wasn’t even on the boat yet and already I was suffering from some sort of pre sea-sickness.

  I stepped onto the boat which wobbled the second I got one foot in. Finn reached out with his other arm and guided me onto the boat. An electric current raced up my arms. I looked up at Finn and our eyes locked. He held onto me long after I’d steadied myself.

  “I’ve never been on a boat before,” I admitted.

  His eyebrows shot up like I’d just told him that I’d never eaten food or breathed air before.

  Finn guided me down onto the bench facing forward and he untied