by J. R. Rogue
Kat was my ear through all of this. My life seemed exotic and intriguing to those living here, but I had nothing in common with the friends I had left behind. I was the minority among the females that lived here. I was nearly 30 and had no urge to get married. I did not have baby fever. I think I wanted children one day, but my clock was not ticking, though some would argue that.
I had accomplished so much on my own already; I saw no need to lean on anyone else. Maybe that was why I never found myself in a serious relationship, save for Tristan, the closest I had ever gotten to anything real.
I never felt out of place with these views in New York, but here I felt out of sorts. Despite my lack of warm giggly feelings towards diamond ring commercials, since returning home, I felt the need to find someone. The one-night stands and casual flings needed to stop. Suddenly, I wanted someone who could stay over at my place without me feeling the urge to kick them out at dawn. My relationship with Tristan lasted longer than normal due to the strangeness of it. He was the hottest celebrity of the moment. When I felt suffocated, I could stay home while he was on location. When I craved him, I could fly out to him, once spending two months in Scotland while he filmed. We didn’t have to wake to each other every day and go through the standard trials and tribulations of a normal couple.
Possibly, because of my lifestyle, an ordinary relationship was out of the cards. At least that was the excuse I often made for myself. I could write from anywhere. My job was as flexible as it could get. I debated staying here in this small town. My mother would love that. Wait. Why was I even toying with that idea? I escaped this tiny prison years ago. I certainly wasn’t going to find anyone to settle down with here. New York was ripe with attractive, smart, successful men. I was here for work. If I planned to take someone seriously, it could wait until I returned to the City.
Whether near or far, my mother called me every day. One weekday I visited her classroom while she took lunch and learned a few things about Chace in the process. I was sitting at one of her student’s desks with my feet propped up on another across the aisle when I brought him up.
“So how are things going out at the house?”
“Great. It’s been forever since I lived with anyone, although Chace is gone so much, most of the time I feel like I’m living alone.”
“Are you two getting along?”
“Yeah,” I laughed. “I don’t see how anyone could not get along with the kid.”
“He’s a good one. I wish Andrew would, you know, take after him more.”
“Yeah, you mentioned that, I know. Maybe he’ll figure it out,” I shrugged. I hadn’t seen my stepbrother since returning home yet. He was up north, in Kansas City with his mother. He wanted to get away after another disagreement with his father. My mother said he would be returning soon. “So, Chace mentioned being out at the house a lot. It sounds like he practically lived with you guys.”
“He did. He was like Andrew’s brother.”
“Why wasn’t Chace at his own house much?”
My mother set her fork down. “Well Sera, he had a hard childhood. I thought I told you years ago.”
“No, I don’t think so,” I replied, taking my own lunch from my lap and putting it on the desk.
“It was just Chace and his father at home. I’m glad he was with us so much.”
“He wasn’t, like, abused or anything was he?”
“No, he wasn’t abused.”
“Did his dad work nights or something?” I pressed.
“You’re awfully curious about him,” my mother fished.
I grabbed my salad and brushed it off. “You know me. I ask questions. I’m a writer. Anyways, lunch this Sunday. I’m going to invite Kat.”
“Oh, that’d be great. I haven’t seen her in forever. How is she doing with everything?”
“I don’t know. When I got here I could tell everything had hit her hard. Something is up. The past two days she has been blowing me off. I’m worried about her. I don’t know of any other friends she has. She doesn’t need to be holed up in that place all alone. It’s not good.”
“A couple days are nothing. Sometimes you need solitude. And maybe you can get her out here Sunday and things will swing back around the other way.”
“I hope.”
“Is Chace coming on Sunday too?”
“He hasn’t mentioned anything.
“I’ll make sure he comes out. If he can get off work. That boy works too much. I told him he could live there for free so he would work less but he insists on working long hours.”
“Use your Mom-voice. It always worked on me as a kid.” I laughed. “I’m really surprised Andrew is living there with you guys and not out here with Chace. Wouldn’t that be the ideal place for a 22-year-old slacker to live?”
My mother rolled her eyes. “Well Andrew got the bright idea that he could live out there with Chace rent free as well. But his dad said he would have to pay rent because he isn’t in college.”
“Ah, makes sense.”
“Now they just drive each other crazy. Andrew with his music, his father with the constant ‘get your life together’ talk. That’s why your brother had to get away for a while. I agree with Paul, he needs to get a plan, but I’d be foolish to believe college is for everyone.”
“Mom, you’re getting soft,” I smirked.
Later that night I replayed the conversation with my mother repeatedly in my head. I still couldn’t believe she said that. She shoved college brochures down my throat. I hadn’t put up a fight. Poor, Andrew. I hated that he was fighting with his father. I hated that he felt like he needed to run away from his home. I knew the feeling. At least Andrew had a place to run. When I ran away, I didn’t have anywhere to go. With Chace’s case, it sounded like no one at home cared about him growing up.
In my teens, I might have fantasized about trading places with him. I stared up at the ceiling, on my mother’s old bed. When this house suffocated me, I ran to the woods. I ran to the words trapped within the pages of the journals that littered my room. I loved to run. I learned to cope that way from a young age. I ran away from my mother’s questioning eyes on the nights I would cry for no reason. I ran away from the truth, blaming my tears on a sad book I had read, any excuse I could find. I felt a tear run down my cheek, landing on my mother’s comforter. I sat up and wiped my eyes. A sound outside my window pulled me from my past. It was the distinct sound of a basketball methodically hitting pavement.
I didn’t hear Chace pull up the driveway. He must have made it back while I was showering earlier. I needed more friends here. It wasn’t like I was writing. I pulled off my robe and searched for warm clothes. The nights still held a chill. I found him outside shooting the ball with his dog relaxing close by on the pavement. I intercepted the ball and he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight of me.
“Shit! You scared me.” He clutched his hand to his chest. “I’m sorry. Were you asleep? Did I wake you up?”
“Nah, I was still up.” I couldn’t help but grin at his scare. I walked to the edge of the pavement and plopped down, pulling my ankles in close. “Do you normally play basketball by yourself on Friday nights?” I rolled the ball back to him.
“What can I say? I’m a party animal,” he joked. “It’s been a long ass week. I’m glad it’s over.” He dribbled the ball around slowly.
“You seem to be a pretty busy guy. Do you ever have free time?”
“Yep, you’re looking at it right now.”
“So you go to school full time. You have two jobs. And you keep up with the house.” I was genuinely impressed.
“Yes, Ma’am. Although you have been helping with that a lot lately. Again. Thank you.”
“No big deal.” I didn’t think he had caught on yet to the fact that I was now paying someone to do the work. “Maybe you should quit one of those jobs.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “Have you been talking to your mom about me?”
“Maybe,” I hinted and looked
up at the sky, faking innocence.
“Has she recruited you to her side?”
“I don’t really have a strong opinion on it. You’re young. If you want to burn the candle at both ends, that’s your prerogative.”
“Well, I am actually considering quitting one of my jobs, so your mom should be happy.”
“Mom always knows what’s best.”
“Your tone implies you know that all too well.”
“Oh, growing up her and I would get into so many arguments. I was convinced I was right. I was stubborn. I am stubborn. Still, she was always right in the end. I don’t regret testing her. And I think she liked that I did, and maybe she wasn’t always right. When I decided to go to school in New York she said I would end up back home.”
“But, you are back home.”
“Technicality. Not for good. Just a short while.”
“I see.”
“I did miss this place though. I didn’t realize how much until I got here. It’s beautiful. I couldn’t sit outside and listen to the crickets at night like this, I couldn’t see the stars. There are a million places like this across the Midwest. But it feels different here.” The open Ozark air was invigorating. Outside, I didn’t feel the ache that house inflicted.
“It’s home. I would love to raise a family in a house like this. On land like this.”
“You know, you and my brother are so different. I can’t believe you two are friends. You seem very mature. You have your priorities together.”
“I think Andrew will get it together. Once all of his friends start to settle down and he sees he is the last one acting like a teenager it will kick him in the ass. At least I hope. He has to do it on his own time. No one is going to make him do anything.”
“You’re right.”
“He’s a good guy. He would do anything for anyone. He’s like family to me.”
“Seems like the rest of my family feels that way about you too.”
“Yeah. You’re step dad is kind of a hard ass though.”
“He always has been. I mean, ex-marine-turned-lawyer. What else could he be?”
“True. He didn’t really stand a chance.” He stopped dribbling and pacing, making his way to me, taking a seat on the pavement as well. I felt nervous at his nearness.
“The way he looks at my mom, though. He’s never a hard ass with her. What are your parents like?” I couldn’t help but ask. I hadn’t learned enough from my mother.
“Ah, well. I just have my dad. He lives up in Saint Louis. I was born there, and once I graduated high school, he went back up there. I try to get up and see him when I can.”
“Any siblings?”
“No.” He twirled the ball in front of him, focused on it.
“Well I know what it’s like to be the only child.”
“Did your father ever have any other kids?”
“No. He didn’t even want to have me.”
“What?” He turned to me, away from the ball spinning in his hands.
“I always asked my mom about my father. She never wanted to tell me anything, so I invented stories in my mind. All of my friends had families that were whole, ya know?”
Chace nodded like he understood what I was saying all too well. “It took me a while to realize how lucky I was to have the mother I do. We were an odd household, with my grandparents here. It wasn’t what some would consider to be a ‘normal family.’ Eventually, when I was around 17, I got her to confess.”
“What happened?” Chace asked me, leaning back on his elbows, looking up at me.
“My mother met my father her freshman year of college. He was a senior. When she graduated, he proposed. She said yes. It wasn’t until after they made their vows that he admitted that he didn’t want to have children. He had misled her. She took her vows seriously and promised to love him forever. She felt cheated. According to my mom, he had agreed that children would be in their future before they wed.
When my mother turned 31, she couldn’t take it anymore. She desperately wanted to have a child. Despite his begging, she filed for divorce. He fought to keep her. Promised her the world, but the one thing he couldn’t promise was all she desired. After my mother moved back in with her parents, she learned of her pregnancy. When she told her estranged husband the news, he stopped begging for reconciliation. He no longer wanted her back. He didn’t want to be a father. He confessed that if she hadn’t filed for divorce, he would have after she revealed she was pregnant.”
I had never told anyone this story before, not even to Kat. I looked down into Chace’s eyes. They were the reason for my confession.
“What a fool.” He didn’t need to say anything else.
“I don’t even know why I am blabbing about all of this.” I never opened up to strangers, I barely opened up to those I held close, but here I was doing just that.
“I don’t mind.”
“I’ve never talked to anyone about this.”
“Sometimes it’s easy to tell someone you don’t know very well the things it’s harder to tell those tied closest to you.” Was this guy in my brain?
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I couldn’t stop myself. I thought back to my first day here when that pretty girl got into his jeep once he dropped me off at Kat’s shop.
“No. Not anymore. Recently single. Does it look like I have time for one?”
“You must have a ton of girls your age chasing you.”
“I’ve never actually had a serious girlfriend before. If you don’t have time for someone you shouldn’t be in a relationship. No one wants a half-assed boyfriend. My ex ended up resenting me because I never took her anywhere. I just never had any time. I knew it would happen so it was my fault really.”
“She was hot, huh?”
“You are correct in that assumption,” he laughed. “That’s what got me. A pretty face can turn a man to goo sometimes.”
“Well if you quit that job you will have more time on your hands.”
“I don’t know.” He sat up and tossed the basketball in front of him, we both watched it roll over to the grass. He leaned back on his elbows again.
I turned to him. “Would she be willing?”
“Yes.”
“Whoa, no hesitation there.” I leaned back as well. “Has she mentioned it?”
“She comes up to the bar a lot. Her eyes. It’s there.”
“You’re a heart breaker.”
“No. No, not true,” he laughed, softly. “So, do you miss it?”
“Miss what?”
“The City?”
“Yes and no.” He hopped up at my answer, startling me.
“I’m going to get a beer. Do you want anything?”
“Wine. I need wine.” He returned quickly, handing me a glass of Merlot.
“How much traveling do you do with your job?”
“A lot lately it seems. When you mix in the promotion I did for the books and then the traveling for the movies, that’s a lot of frequent flyer miles.”
“I’d love to travel.”
“Have you been anywhere?”
“Not since I was a kid, really. Well, no, about two years ago I drove down to Nashville for the weekend with your brother.
“Oh, I like Nashville.”
“I’d live there.”
“Do you think that when you graduate you will teach here?” Though he mentioned raising a family here, I could see him leaving. I could see him doing anything he desired.
“I haven’t really decided yet.”
“Well, you have time. What two years left?”
“Yep.”
“What made you want to become a teacher? Please don’t say my mom.”
“Your mom.” We both laughed.
“So, her persuasion worked on you then. She tried with me.”
“Nah, she didn’t have to say anything to me. I think I knew for a long time, but never admitted it. The two years after high school where I just goofed off, it wasn’t really at the surface of my
mind. I did great in school, I really thrived there. Sometimes that’s the only place a kid can be around people who truly care. Your mom was one of them. I’d love to be that to someone too.”
“Like Aiden.”
“Yeah, like Aiden.”
“I’m glad my mom has you around to help out.” I glanced around at the flowers and greenery surrounding the driveway.
“I owe her a lot. So, did you always know you wanted to be a writer?”
“Yes. I just never expected to make any money. Or to be writing in the genre I am.”
“Would you ever write anything else?”
“It’s hard to switch once you have a solid fan base that expects a certain product from you.” I thought of all the magical places my writing took me as a child and during high school. I missed it. I missed the creative freedom. My words had become a burden.
“You can do anything you want,” he encouraged. “Even if it seems scary, it doesn’t mean it isn’t worth a try.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I took another sip of my wine.
“Don’t let fear sway you. You’re not your past.”
His words felt like a knife. They slipped between my rib bones and nestled in with the poisonous parts. If he only knew. “So do you ever write anything besides music? Do you ever write lyrics?” I wanted to hear him play again. My balcony was cold without his guitar below it.
“Ah, yes. But never for anyone else’s ears.” He crossed one arm over his eyes.
“Why?” I turned on my side, facing him.
“I don’t know. I just couldn’t imagine someone else singing my words, and expressing feelings that belong to me. But, I have been thinking of letting Andrew do a couple of my songs at a show soon. Maybe. It’s scary, you know?”
“Yes, I completely understand that. It’s hard to be vulnerable in that way. And for all I know, you write crappy songs.” I did not believe this for a second. But I was enjoying the back and forth between us.
“This is true.”
“I find that hard to believe though.”
“Why’s that?” He removed his arm and looked up at me.
