Old Habits

by Tabatha Kiss

  “Oh, shut up,” she says, shaking it off. “Why did you go to the toy store?”

  “Calm down. I didn’t get him anything. We were just browsing.”

  “I don’t care about that. Why did you go into the toy store?”

  I raise a confused brow. “Because I had to entertain your kid for an afternoon.”

  Her eyes narrow. “And?”

  “And he’s too young for a strip club.”

  Sara crosses her arms, standing a little taller every second until I finally cave.

  “Jovie was there,” I say.

  She exhales. “Dammit.”

  “Sara, it’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not fine, Will. This isn’t fine. Who told you she was back?”

  I pause. “Did you know she was back?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wha—” I throw up my hands. “Why was I the last to know this?”

  “Because Jovie destroyed your life and no one in this town wants to see that happen again. That’s why.”

  “She did not,” I chuckle. “Don’t be so dramatic. Wait a second…” I furrow my brow. “Is this why you tried to set me up with your friend? And why women have been coming into the shop all week throwing themselves at me? Because you all wanted to distract me from Jovie?”

  She hesitates. “Well…”

  My mouth sags. “So, that’s one mystery solved.”

  “Will, we watched you pick up the pieces of your shattered heart for months after Jovie took off—”

  “I guess you didn’t hear the part about not being dramatic,” I mutter.

  “I’m serious. We just want you to be happy.”

  “I’m not happy? Who says I’m not happy?”

  “You live here alone in a house meant for a family,” she says, gesturing around my kitchen. “You’ve barely gone out on a date in years.”

  “That’s not true. I date all the time.”

  “Name the last time you went on a second date,” she counters.

  I think quickly but I can’t come up with a single name.

  “So, what?” I ask. “I worked hard and paid for this house because I liked it. What’s wrong with that? And what business is it of yours who or when I date?”

  Sara presses her lips together. “Okay, Will… I want you to be honest with me. As your sister and your friend, just answer this question…”

  I sigh. “What?”

  “Have you spent the last four years waiting for Jovie to come back?”

  “No, I haven’t,” I answer, shaking my head at the floor.

  She takes a step closer. “You didn’t ask her out, did you?”

  I hesitate. “Well…”

  “Ugh…” Her face screws up in disgust. “God, Will...”

  “We’re just meeting up for drinks. As friends. That’s all,” I say. “It’s not a date. And hell, aren’t you the least bit curious why she came back?”

  “No, I’m not. And you shouldn’t be either.”

  “Well, I am.”

  She blinks her wide, begging eyes. “Will, please, do not go out with her.”

  “We’re just catching up, Sara. No one’s exchanging vows.”

  “Exactly. You’re not and you never will.”

  I flex my jaw. “I’m sorry. Was that an order?”

  “It’s a fact.” She shakes her head. “Jovie Ross is going to string you along just like last time. And then, just like last time, you’re going to get too attached to her and then she’s—”

  I laugh over her. “What the hell are you talking about? I dumped her, remember?”

  “And while she rode off into the sunset, you lived here like a damn shut-in. You didn’t get out of bed for weeks after she ran off because she never called your bluff.”

  A pang grips my chest but I power through it. “Well, she’s back now,” I say. “If you ride into the sunset long enough, you end up right back where you started, right?”

  She breathes a sad sigh. “That’s not how that works, Will. She doesn’t belong here. Sooner or later, Jovie’s going to pack up and leave again and when she does—”

  “Sara, stop.” I hold up a hand. “Like I said, we’re just catching up. I know you always hated her but it’s been four years. Cut her some slack.”

  Andy walks in with his backpack and hugs Sara’s knees, forcing the two of us to lower our voices.

  “Well…” she combs her fingers through his hair, “I hope you’re right. But I won’t be the least bit surprised to have to say I told you so again.” She pokes Andy’s chin. “Honey, come on. Say goodbye to Uncle Will.”

  Andy smiles at me. “Bye, Uncle Will.”

  “See you later, buddy,” I say, messing up his hair.

  Sara guides him through the house to the front door, all the while fixing his shaggy mane back down where it belongs as they step outside.

  I linger in the doorway and wave at Andy as he twists around to give me another floppy goodbye in return. Sara gets him into his seat and glances over her shoulder at me, flashing a hard, disappointing stare in my direction.

  I guess I can’t really blame her. I can deny it all I want to her face but Sara’s right when she says I was pretty fucked up for a few months after Jovie left.

  But she’s back now.

  I close the door and eye the coat closet in the corner beside me, feeling a sudden rush of excitement spike in my blood.

  My lips curl to one side. I open the closet and reach up onto the top shelf until I touch something smooth and round.

  The helmet carries a thin layer of dust, distorting the lightning blue color, but it’s nothing a quick wipe down with a cloth won’t fix.

  I turn it over in my hands, admiring its weight as memories of Jovie riding shotgun come rushing back to me.

  All those late-night rides through the town square, revving the Bolt as loudly as possible to try and piss off anyone we could.

  And — especially — the quiet nights together when we’d pull off the highway and fool around until some state trooper rode in and told us crazy kids to go home.

  And — even better — the nights when the trooper never showed up at all and Jovie made a man out of me.

  Christ, Jove.

  Where the hell have you been?

  I set the helmet down and grab my leather jacket off the back of the door.

  Chapter 6

  Jovie

  What the hell was I thinking?

  When I agreed to get drinks with Will Myers, I couldn’t focus through the thick haze of heat and confusion long enough to foresee myself in this moment.

  The last time I stood in this closet, it was grab and run. I took the items I couldn’t live without and left the rest. I often wondered what my father would do with this stuff. Toss it, maybe. Sell it for any spare change he could get for it, more likely. Can’t say I expected it all to still be here when — or if — I ever came back.

  But it’s all still here. Ripped jeans and band t-shirts. Miniskirts and knee-high boots. I’ve never been the poster girl for modern fashion but I had a look, that’s for sure. Little retro here, little modern chic there. No fucks given everywhere else.

  But I’m not that girl anymore.

  So, what the hell am I supposed to wear tonight?

  I remind myself again that this isn’t a date. I don’t have to look perfect. I’m just catching up with someone that I used to know. Someone I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with at one point but still just someone I knew before I knew any better.

  I stop staring and start sliding the hangers to the side, taking a closer look at my options. It’s still too cold for a skirt or sleeveless, so that eliminates these. I grab a pair of old jeans and slip into them. A bit snug, but at least they still fit.

  I find a black turtleneck in the back and step into a pair of matching boots. Good enough.

  The engine echoes up the street just as I finish applying my lipstick. I pause, letting the sound sweep over me for a few seconds as I stare at myself. M
y first thought is to shut off the lights and head toward the window. That’s what I did so many times before but this isn’t high school anymore.

  I stuff my house key and wallet into my jacket pocket and walk through the house toward the front door.

  Hank sits on his chair in front of the TV. “Where are you going?”

  “Into town to meet up with old friends,” I say, flicking the locks open.

  “What friends?” he mutters. “You never had friends.”

  I ignore the question. “I’ll be back later.”

  “Don’t think I don’t remember whose bike that is.”

  “I’m twenty-three-years-old, Hank,” I point out. “I think we’re past the age where you get to tell me who I can spend my time with.”

  “I think if you spent more time listening to what I told you then you wouldn’t have moved back home at twenty-three,” he says, popping a victory cashew into his mouth.

  “I’ll be back later,” I repeat, yanking the door open and stepping outside.

  And just like that, I’m seventeen again; walking outside with rolling eyes and a shitty attitude to run away from my drunken father and straight into Will Myers’ arms. It’s almost nostalgic.

  Will sits on his motorcycle at the end of the driveway and while my toes curl a little bit as he pulls his helmet off and smiles at me, my eyes instantly fall to The Bolt instead.

  “Oh, baby,” I say, admiring it. “I’ve missed you.”

  Will revs the engine once and the sound echoes throughout the neighborhood. “I’d feel jealous, but this is a really nice bike.”

  “Damn right.”

  He hops off his seat and lifts it open to grab the second helmet from inside the hatch. “For you...”

  I take it from him, smiling wide. “Wow, you really did keep it.”

  “Well, I’m a hoarder. Don’t take it personally.”

  I chuckle and turn it over in my hands. “So, who used it after me?”

  “Nobody,” he says. I raise a brow. “Jovie, I swear, nobody has worn that thing but you.”

  “The strap is wrong.”

  He pauses. “What?”

  I hold it out to him. “I made a notch in the strap to easily secure optimum snugness for my head.”

  “So?”

  “So, now, it’s moved.”

  “I move the strap when I clean it.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Jovie...” he smirks, “just put it on.”

  I sigh and adjust the strap to its proper place. “Fine.” I push my hair back to keep it from getting caught as I pull the helmet onto my head. “Smells like a nightclub in here…”

  “Who knew you were the jealous type?” he chuckles.

  I stare through the shield. “So, where are we going?” I ask, sliding onto the seat behind him.

  “Lucky’s?” he suggests.

  “Sounds good.”

  He revs the engine again, sending a flurry of delightful vibrations through my core.

  “Oh, baby...” I say again.

  He glares over his shoulder at me.

  “Who knew you were the jealous type?” I parrot back as I slam the shield down.

  We take off at top speed through the neighborhood. Wind rushes past and I rest my hands on his waist to hold me up. Fire and lightning shoot up my arms the moment I touch him. I flinch and hope to God he doesn’t notice my quivering fingers.

  Will, Jovie, and the Bolt. I can’t begin to guess how many times the two of us rode through town like this, swerving through the empty streets in the middle of the night. No one around. Nothing to stop us. Of course, if we rode in one place too long, the sheriff would show up, but we usually managed to stay ahead of him. We had our regular haunts. The quiet places where we could pull over and sit beneath the stars.

  My heart slams in my chest.

  It all comes back so quickly…

  We ride into the parking lot of Lucky’s bar at the far edge of town, just off the highway. The lot is mostly deserted, as it usually was on a weeknight. Will and I didn’t exactly spend a lot of time on the inside of the place before, what with the lack of legal drinking age, but we got to know the dark, abandoned corners of the parking lot very well.

  Will packs our helmets into the seat before we head inside. My ears fill with that soft twang of country music and I recoil from the stench of cigarette smoke but neither irks me as much as the dozen pairs of eyes burning holes through my skull right now.

  Every drinker and pool player, every bartender and waiter, Lucky herself included. They all come to a grinding halt as if my mere existence offended them. Hell, it probably does.

  “Uh-oh...”

  Chapter 7

  Will

  Jovie turns her head down the instant we step inside and it takes a moment for me to realize why.

  I shift between their judging eyes and her downturn face. “Come on,” I tell Jovie.

  She digs her heels in but finally caves, letting me lead her toward the back corner. I feel her one step behind me as we navigate the sea of pool tables and fluorescent lights. We settle at a small table-for-two in the back, farthest away from them as possible. As we settle down, the others go back to doing what they’re doing but there’s still the occasional glance in our direction.

  “You remember that old movie with the killer birds?” Jovie asks as she takes a seat. “Where the people walk through the center of the herd of crows, hoping they don’t suddenly get attacked and have their eyes plucked out?”

  “A group of crows is called a murder,” I say.

  She chuckles, glancing around. “Well, that’s fitting.”

  “Just ignore them.”

  “I don’t even recognize half of these people,” she says. “How do they know me?”

  “From the wanted sign poster up in the post office, I’d imagine.”

  “Okay, I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

  “It’s a joke,” I say.

  “Thank God.”

  Lucky arrives at our table, her red hair pinned up in a hive on the top of her head. She locks on Jovie and she throws on a sly smile. “Jovie Ross...”

  “That’s me,” Jovie says.

  “I wondered when you’d come rolling back through town.”

  “Well…” She shifts uncomfortably. “Here I am.”

  “Here for good?”

  “Here for now.”

  “Yeah,” Lucky chuckles, “I’ve been saying that for thirty years.”

  Jovie ignores it and throws on her classic, bullshit-eating smile.

  Lucky eyes me instead. “What can I get for you two?”

  “I’ll take a beer,” I say. “Whatever you’ve got on tap is fine.”

  “Same,” Jovie adds.

  “Coming right up.”

  Lucky walks off to the next table and Jovie twists her head around to watch her go. Her eyes slowly scan the place, shifting in her little skull as they land on one prying face to the other.

  I clear my throat, drawing her gaze back to me and we sit in a silent holding pattern until Lucky returns with our glasses.

  Once she’s gone, Jovie sighs.

  “Okay,” she says. “Go ahead. Ask away.”

  “Ask what?”

  “You have questions, right?”

  “One or two,” I confirm.

  “Then, go ahead.”

  “All right.” I take a sip of my drink first. “I’ll start with the most important question. How are you, Jovie?”

  She cracks a smile. “I figured the most important one would be ‘where have you been, Jovie?’”

  I shrug. “I figured baby steps.”

  Jovie nods once, gently biting the edge of her mouth for a moment. “I’m okay,” she says. “Being on my own was rough at first but I got the hang of it.”

  “So, you were alone?”

  “For the most part.” She exhales. “What about you? How are you, Will?”

  “I’m okay,” I answer. “I’ve got a
good job, supportive parents, a cool nephew, a loving sister — who, by the way, is really unnerved by your sudden appearance.”

  Jovie smirks. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah, she does not like you being here.”

  “She never did.”

  “Any idea why?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Her smile fades. “It sounds like you still like it here.”

  “Yeah, Clover’s great,” I say. “It’s quiet, simple…”

  Jovie’s eyes start to roll but she stops them. “I’m sure that’s great for some,” she says. “But there’s a lot more in the world than Clover, Kansas.”

  “I’ve heard that but…” I shrug. “They call it The Forgotten Paradise for a reason, right?”

  “Deceptive marketing?” she quips.

  “Come on, Jove.” I chuckle. “Tell me one place you’ve been that’s better than this.”

  She goes silent and presses her lips together. Her nail taps against the table before she reaches for her glass.

  I’ve already opened the door. Might as well walk on through.

  “Where have you been, Jovie?” I ask.

  “Around,” she answers.

  “Is that really all you’re gonna give me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “One day you were here and the next you were gone. You didn’t tell anybody you were leaving. Even your dad was blindsided.”

  “And everyone else threw a goddamn party.”

  “Just…” I lean forward. “Forget about everyone else. I’m asking for an explanation. I mean… don’t you owe me that?”

  “Why?” she asks. “It’s not like we were together at the time. You broke up with me.”

  “Yeah, like twelve hours before.”

  “Would a week have made a difference? Or a month? Pretty sure we were as broken up by hour twelve as we would have been by hour one hundred.”

  I sit back. “Okay. You’re right about that, but… Come on, it’s been a long time. I can hardly even remember what we fought about in the first place.”

  “I can.” She takes a slow, quiet breath. “We broke up because you wanted to get married and start pumping out kids… and I was a nineteen-year-old girl who’d never even seen the ocean yet.”

  “Yeah, I did. I wanted our lives to start. I didn’t want to wait. That makes me a bad person?”