by Rue Volley
Thomas and I were only one year apart in high school. He graduated when I was a junior. He was what was referred to as a jock. He played football, but he was sweet. I think he had a crush on me, but he never acted on it. It was either that or I had something hanging out of my nose every day because I always caught him staring at me. Who knows? Obviously, I’m not good at understanding any signals given to me by men. Jack was undeniable proof of that.
I reached up and brushed my nose with the back side of my hand, out of habit. He stopped about four feet in front of us and let his eyes take me in. He placed his hands on his waist. I stared at the apron that he was wearing. It had his family’s name and logo on it. His eyes matched the enthusiasm in his voice. “Abigail Watson, look at you.”
Lilyanne smirked, giving me a quick once-over. “I know, she is just gorgeous, right?” Her gum popped. The sharp sound that it created forced me to flinch involuntarily. All I wanted was a chocolate fix. I should have known better. Extended absences from this town only created more drama. Other than Birts store and the mill, this town ran on gossip. If they could convert it into fuel, we would all be filthy rich.
I rubbed my neck, causing a small red splotch to appear on the surface of my skin. I felt uncomfortable. I wasn’t quite sure how my cut off jean shorts, hello kitty t-shirt and flip flops constituted gorgeous in Lillyanne’s mind, but whatever, I’ll take it.
“Thanks,” I said reluctantly, but with enough conviction in my voice to convince her that I was sincere.
Thomas smiled. “I heard you were in town.”
Lilyanne leaned in and spoke quietly like we had a love connection going on in the candy aisle. “I’ll see you later, catch up with her,” she added a wink, thumbing in my direction.
She walked away, glancing back every now and then while continuing to smile. Great, the whole town would think that I was marrying Thomas Birt by the end of the day. Wedding gifts would start arriving come morning.
I looked down at my feet and smiled, thinking about where I should register to score really good stuff. I need some things, like a new Keurig, maybe some super soft towels—the oversized kind, of course. A smoothie blender. I laughed and looked back up at poor Thomas. If he only knew how my mind worked, then he would run.
He pointed behind him. “Hey, she’s, well you know.”
I nodded, reaching up and playing with my long braid that lay over my shoulder. “I do, thanks for the save. I was getting grilled.”
“No problem. So, home, huh?”
I nodded to him and scooped some maple nut clusters into my white paper bag. I stood back up and caught him looking at my legs. I cleared my throat, noticing the absence of the wedding band on his finger.
Thomas had married his high school sweetheart, Becky Baldridge, Prom Queen, circa 1996. She was beautiful, smart, and ambitious. It also seemed that she was gone.
I eyed his barren finger. He rubbed it with his thumb. “Becky and I—well, she left. Took the kids with her.” He rubbed his hand with the other one, pressing his thumb firmly into the center of it and massaging it. He seemed uncomfortable, I felt sorry for him. I knew what it was like to be left alone. It had such a reverberating effect on everything that you would do. Even simple conversations, like this one, could trigger anxiety.
I tilted my head, wanting to comfort him. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He paused and took a long look around the store. “Yeah—but anyway. It’s really nice to see you, Abi. Really nice.” His tension in his brow started to relax. He cleared his throat like he wanted to say more. He parted his lips.
I folded the top of my bag down. “You too, you look healthy.” I immediately heard my inner voice sighing.
Healthy? Abi, come on. That’s the best you can do? This man is obviously distraught, and he finds you attractive.
I rubbed my hand on my jean shorts. The sweat started to collect on my palm. I walked past him, glancing back as he watched me walk toward the front of the store. My pace quickened. I rang up and left as quickly as I could. He was still tending to the candy aisle and sneaking peeks at me when I rushed out of the store.
I stepped outside and shook my head. I must be sending out weird vibes. Like I’m single, come get me, stuff. I wasn’t trying to. I started to walk toward home and then it hit me.
Mom. Damn it. You told people that I’m single!
I returned home, passing by a cable truck in the driveway. I stepped inside the house, hesitating as I heard groaning. I looked back and eyed the truck. This better not be a booty call. I called out to her, only to walk in on her doing some crazy yoga move in the living room. I stopped dead in my tracks.
Her butt was sticking up into the air, wagging back and forth as some strange guy did yoga right alongside her. His neck was straining as he eyed her goods. I cleared my throat to interrupt him. The man fell over as she turned her head and smiled at me. The enthusiastic wave quickly followed.
“Hi, baby.”
“I was only gone for like thirty minutes, Mom.”
The man stood up and waved at me. His nervous grin told me everything. He grabbed his toolbox and left the house without saying another word. I felt like kicking him in the butt as he passed me by.
I pointed behind me. “Who was that?”
“Utility man. Cable was all whack-a-doodle. Now it's fine, he did his magic.” I looked at the TV and saw a woman doing some yoga on it. I laughed.
“Were you going to, you know, with him?”
She winked at me. “Mom, they have a name for this, it’s a condition. Maybe you need like AA or something?” I snapped my fingers, “They call it SAA, Sex Addicts Anonymous. I saw it online.”
“Why are you looking up sex addict stuff online, Abi?”
I bit my lip. I wasn’t about to tell her that after Jack had left I had spent a lot of time looking things up. I looked up things on BDSM, on submissives, on dominants and sexual addiction. I needed to understand how I felt. I needed to try to understand the attraction I had to him and why I couldn’t hate him and still don’t to this day.
I could feel a slight tingling in my fingertip. I wiped my open hand on my shorts, letting the small scar on my finger find some relief. I would rather not think about him, it only drums up old feelings of confusion and hurt. I was thankful that she could provide a distraction with her new found sexual freedom.
Anything was better than wallowing in the Jack file.
She stood up and stretched her arms out to her sides. She lifted them over her head and then lowered them, repeating it again as she spoke to me. “They say that the orgasm is the ultimate form of meditation, in that one explosive moment your body and soul become one.” She lowered into an awkward squat. I shook my head as she rolled her hips in a circle. Then she thrust them forward and back. It was disturbing.
I snapped my fingers. “Good to know, listen. Did you tell every man in town that I’m single?”
She lowered her arms and stood up straight. She grabbed the small white towel on the coffee table and wiped her neck with it. She walked over to the wall and did a handstand. She pressed her feet against the wall above her. I tilted my body to the right and turned my head sideways so I could talk to her. My black braid fell over my shoulder and hit the side of my arm. My hair is getting so long. I had considered cutting it all off, just to shed the weight of it and the previous year, but I just couldn’t do it. I love my hair.
“Mom?”
“Well, honey, I may have mentioned that you were recently dumped.”
I slapped my hand on my leg. “Oh great, dumped? So I am marked as on the rebound?”
“What?” she asked as her face started to turn red from the blood rushing to her head.
I waved my hand in a circle. “Rebound—it’s like blood in the water and you have the sharks circling me here.”
She let her legs fall, she straightened her shoulders and shook out her long hair. She approached me, placing her delicate hands on my face. Her eyes were
lit with enthusiasm.
“Are you on your period?” she said discretely like others may hear us.
I laughed, my eyebrow promptly shot up. “Oh my God, no, I’m not. That’s not what I meant at all, Mom.”
She winked at me. “They can smell the fertility, I read that in the book. Or was it their penises? I can’t remember. It's pheromones. It’s all animalistic in nature.” Her precarious assertion amused me. I reached into my bag, searching for some chocolate. I grabbed one and jerked it out, taking a prodigious bite out of it.
I pointed one finger at her. “You need therapy.”
She shook her head. “Don’t we all?”
I turned and walked out of the room, snatching another maple nut cluster from my paper bag and gobbling it down.
When in distress turn to chocolate.
Always chocolate. Trust me.
CHAPTER FOUR
TATTOOS AND ICE CREAM
__________________________________
I sat on the porch with my feet up on the swing. Man bun Brad hammered away on the side of the house off to the right of us. He was standing on an extremely tall ladder. My mom had his crew installing new shutters and then a roof. The project would take a while, from what she said.
I caught him looking at me. He gave me a quick smile and then turned back to hammer some more. I took a sip of my pink lemonade and coughed on it. Mom had spiked it with some Vodka.
I tapped my chest a couple of times and it helped the liquor go down easier. I set the chilled glass on the small table between us and tried to ignore how the large muscles in Brad’s arms flexed while he hammered away. The sun lit up the sweat on his skin. It was ridiculous. He was like someone’s wet dream, not necessarily mine. Mine wore a suit and tie.
I bit my lip and thought about Jack’s tie, wrapped around his hand in that room while we played strip poker. Damn it, he was so hot. I drew my legs up and wrapped my arms around them.
Mom jerked me out of my thoughts. “So—the lake festival is coming.”
My eyes lit up with excitement. “The lake festival?” She nodded to me.
I loved the lake festival when I lived at home. It was one of the highlights of the year. It was packed with craft vendors, rides, games, a Ferris wheel that overlooked the large lake. It had cook-offs, car shows, and multiple bands of all genres. It was a perfect ending to summer and signified the beginning of fall. Which just so happened to be my favorite time of the year.
I am a Halloween junky.
She grinned. “Yes. This year I’m going to make apple cobbler with homemade ice cream, sprinkled with cinnamon, of course. I’m in it to win it. Last year Lillyanne won for best dessert with her peach pie, I have a sneaking suspicion that it was blowjobs in the back of her car, but whatever.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Mom, you crack me up, I swear.”
She laughed as she shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not kidding, my dessert was better.”
“What did you make?”
She bit her lip and waved her hand. She mumbled under her breath. “Cherry pie.”
I leaned forward. “What? You have been on a pie strike forever, thanks for telling me that you came out of retirement, Mom.”
She laughed. “Well, I know that I swore off pies, ever since that unfortunate incident in home economics.”
“What incident, hon?”
We both looked over and saw a man standing there holding a decent size white package in his hands. My mom smiled. “Oh Frank, how are you?”
I narrowed my eyes as she approached him. The hug between them lasted a little too long. She took the white package from him. She pointed back at me. “With, Abi. The poor thing murdered a cherry pie her freshman year of high school, and the news spread like wildfire. You would have thought that I did it.”
I sighed. “Oh yes, I almost ruined her spotless reputation as a cook. By the way, I’m Abi, her daughter.”
He walked over to me and extended his cumbrous hand. I shook it, watching as my small hand disappeared within his own. “Frank, the butcher.”
I pulled my hand back, and my mom winked at me. “Ahhh—Hi, Frank.”
“So, you didn’t inherit your mom’s phenomenal cooking skills, huh?”
I sized him up. “No. I inherited my dad’s skill with a gun.”
My mom nervously laughed and stepped up next to him. She shook the package in her hands.
“Thank you so much for the steaks. I appreciate it. You didn’t have to deliver them. I was planning on dropping by to see you tomorrow.”
Frank grinned at me. In all actuality, he was an attractive older man. He reminded me of George Clooney, with his salt and pepper flecked hair and weathered looks. He was just a little taller.
Frank leaned in toward me, adding a playful wink. “I like to hunt.”
My eyebrow arched. It was too soon for him to take liberty with me. “Awesome.”
Mom touched his arm. “Sorry, Frank. Abi and I were in the middle of something here—not to be rude.” She was acting weird. Frank nodded to her and then leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. I saw the light blushing in her skin as he walked away from the house and got back into his car.
I crossed my arms over my chest, and she turned back to face me.
“Spill it.”
She shook her head and messed with her hair. “I don’t know what you mean.”
I pointed at her. “You like him, don’t you?”
She nervously laughed, I recognized it because it was the same way that I laugh when I feel cornered about something.
She walked into the house and made a b-line for the kitchen. She shoved the steaks into the freezer and yelled when she turned and I was standing right in front of her. She grabbed her chest. I tapped my foot on the wood floor.
“Abi, leave me alone.”
“No, you like this guy. I mean you are all up in my business, so now I get to be up in yours.”
She laughed and walked toward the front door. I followed her. She stepped back out onto the porch and sat down. She took another drink of her spiked pink lemonade. I sat back down on the swing, and she refused to tell me anything else about him. I decided to drink some more of my pink lemonade and save this battle for another day.
I glanced at Brad while he hammered away. “Well, I’m excited about the lake festival and you will win. You should win, your food is the best anyway.”
The vodka continued to relax me. I could feel it coursing through me and taking all of my anxiety right along with it.
“I plan on it.” She eyed man bun while taking a sip of her drink. “You should ask him to go this year, I’m sure he would love that. He doesn’t have a girlfriend, I checked.”
I glanced at him. “I’m just, I—Mom. I don’t think that I should be dating people,” I paused.
“Well then who should you be dating, honey?”
I placed my mouth to the edge of my glass and rolled it on my bottom lip. I didn’t have an answer for her. In fact, this conversation was making me antsy. I shrugged my shoulders.
“Abi,” she said softly as she touched my arm. “You have to move on, I mean there are plenty of penises out there, nice ones.” She pointed at Brad.
“I wish that you would pick a different word, or maybe just bleep yourself out or something.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Cock?”
“Okay, no. I meant something a little less b-film pornish, but—”
I got up, and she laughed. “Honey, lighten up. I am trying to make you smile.” I stopped when she took my hand. I looked down at her and smiled, showing off all of my teeth.
“Very attractive, Abi.”
I let my fake smile fade. “I try.”
She called out to man bun. “Hey, Brad.”
I whispered to her, “No.”
“Yeah?” he yelled back. He had a nail hanging out of the side of his mouth.
“Abi wants to go to the lake festival, why don’t you take her?”
He grinne
d and the nail fell, he tried to catch it, but it was no use. “Sure, I’d love to.”
I gripped her hand as she laughed. “Good!” My eyes said no.
She looked back at me. “See? Easy.” She shook my hand in hers.
I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it, the situation was going from bad to worse. “I’m taking a walk before you have me engaged to one of these guys.”
She looked at Brad again, tapping her index finger on her lip. “Oh, can you imagine the babies you could make with that man?”
I let her hand go and walked down the steps, ready to escape my mom’s insanity.
I ended up wandering downtown. I took in the sights along the way.
I remembered every house, every tree, and every cobbled street. It was picturesque. People took pride in their homes here, one neighbor upgrading as the next would notice and upgrade their property too. The result was stunning. It looked like a postcard, a place that people would settle down in forever, to find their forever home, so to speak.
I dreamed of that too, with the right person, of course.
The lake festival and Birts Store were the reasons this town flourished, well, that and the Mill. The Mill provided many jobs, jobs that were handed down from generation to generation here in New Weston.
All of those things combined had kept the town growing. The sign heading into town now had a population count of 38,000. When I graduated, it was at 36,000. To add over two thousand people in just under seven years was amazing. It was a migration of sorts. Some were people coming back here to settle down and some were tourists who came and fell in love with the town, which was easy to do.
Between the beautiful homes, friendly, yet eclectic atmosphere and vintage feel, this town was becoming a small metropolis.
I won’t lie and say that it never crossed my mind that this is where I would end up living when it was all said and done. I loved New York City now, but I would assume that in time I would long for the quieter life that this town could provide to me.
Then again perhaps it was the sign heading out of town that made most people smile and remember us. It simply read.
