by Mj Fields
She reaches in the bag that was hanging off her shoulder and pulls out a smaller bag. Inside is something wrapped in foil. She pulls it out and opens it up. “Phoenix brought this home. Apparently, that friend of hers at the bar, the sweet, little one with those eyes and the perfect skin, made enough chocolate covered bacon to feed half the town. You care to try it?”
“No,” I say, pulling the guitar up on my lap.
“No?” Mags says on a laugh. “My boy is saying no to bacon and chocolate?”
“Suppose I am.” I shrug then run my fingers across the strings.
She puts her hand over my forehead like she is checking to see if I have a temperature. “Don’t feel warm. Gotta be something else. Tell me, Gray, what has you so upset you’re avoiding looking at me and eating something you specifically asked for a couple weeks ago?”
I’m ready to tell her to mind her business, but I love this woman and don’t want to do that to her, not ever. So, I tell her something else.
“Love for bacon was tainted, Mags. That awful shit they tried to pawn off on us has made me leery.”
She laughs as she stands, pats my shoulder, then sets the bag on the bench as she kisses my cheek. “Get some sleep, my boy.”
I watch her make her way up, half-tempted to scoop her up and carry her the rest of the way to Gage’s house. However, I know she would beat the hell out of me with that cane of hers. Woman is as stubborn as the day is long.
Once she’s inside, I scowl at the bag of bacon, cursing myself for being weak when I saw her coming out of the lake.
I strum the strings, hoping to hear something in them that I can make a temporary escape into.
“That girl, Mandee, she’s messing with my mind.
That girl, Mandee, she’s one of a kind.
That girl, Mandee, such a pretty little thing.
That girl, Mandee, is the woman of my dreams.”
I pull my hand away from my guitar and look at… “No.” Then I set it down and look over at the bacon. “Fuck it.”
I reach over and grab it, opening up the Ziploc bag. I fold the foil back and take out a piece of chocolate covered bacon. I eat it. Fucking delicious. Then I eat another piece, and another, and another, and yeah, I eat the whole fucking bag.
When I am done, I sit back and look up at the sky, watching the fireflies dance. My fucking belly is full, and I’m ready to sleep.
“You gonna crash right here?”
I open my eyes, seeing Garrett standing above me, and shrug.
“You can still crash with us,” he says as he sits next to me. Then he reaches under him and pulls up the empty bag, “What the hell?”
“Sorry,” I say as I reach over and take it.
“Still have the nighttime binge, huh?” He smiles, looking down.
“Sometimes, yeah,” I answer.
“Look, I know that started out because you couldn’t sleep at night because of my shit.” He shakes his head and sighs. “Sorry, man.”
“It’s all good, Garrett. Wasn’t your fault that...happened to you.”
“Wasn’t yours, either, man. But little brother, things are turning around. Good times and all that shit Mags talked about when we were kids, they’re right there in arm’s reach now.”
I nod. “Happy for you.”
“You sure?” he asks, looking at me.
I have no idea why he is asking that. Of course I’m happy for him. He fucking deserves it. All the hell he lived is done.
“Of course I’m sure,” I answer honestly.
“Do me a favor?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“Sing at the wedding?”
I want to tell him hell no, especially knowing that girl, Mandee, is going to be in it. But I can’t tell him no. Can’t tell anyone in my family no.
I nod, and he sighs.
“Thanks, man. ‘Bless The Broken Road.’ That’s the song I want. You know it?”
“Better hope so. It’s only a couple days away.”
We both sit back and look up at the sky. Then he sighs, claps his hand on my knee, and stands up. “Thanks, Gray.”
I nod.
“Do me another favor?” he asks.
“Sure,” I answer.
“Find her, man. Find the one who makes you believe shit can glitter.”
“Shit can glitter?” I half-laugh.
“All that shit we went through, Gray, all our lives, it’s part of that broken road. Shit still gonna happen in life, bad shit, man, but when you find your person, your girl, your best friend, she can make that shit glitter.”
“Interesting.” I nod.
He looks at me for a long minute. I know he wants to say something, ask something. I don’t want either.
I grab my guitar and stand up. “Happy for you, Garrett.”
“Stay with us tonight?” he asks.
“Sure.” I nod as I grab the bucket beside me, toss the water on the burning embers in the fire pit, and start walking.
The night is dark, but the sky is clear; therefore, the path is easy. So fucking easy. From point A to point B. Years and years of walking it, in the dark and sleepless nights. I know it like I know the back of my hand. There is peace in darkness, as long as you don’t worry about what it is the darkness hides. Peace here, too, that I wish I could take comfort in, like Gage, like Garrett, but I can’t.
“No interest in what Xavier Steel offered?” Garrett asks, breaking the silence.
“None.”
“Huh,” he says quietly.
“Huh,” I repeat, and he laughs.
“Gray, it could be a really good thing for you and that.” He stops for a minute. “What’s that thing’s name again?”
“Glory,” I tell him my guitar’s name.
He smiles and nods.
“Not my thing.”
“But you’ll sing in little bars and shit sometimes. Why not—”
“Small time, I’m good with. Fun to let go. But no, I’m not gonna become Xavier Steel’s next big thing.”
“How about being Grayson Falcon’s? You are a big thing, man.”
“Been told that a few times,” I attempt to turn this conversation around. It works.
He laughs. “Genetics are a great damn thing.”
The fuck they are, I think. The fuck they are.
§
Sleep? Impossible. But this time, it’s not Garrett’s nightmares keeping me awake. It’s thoughts of her. That girl, Mandee.
I push myself up off the bed and rub my hand over my face as I try to talk myself out of taking a walk to the woods, my fucking sacred place, now tainted by Blue’s interruption of what would have no doubt been a mistake.
I stand up, grab Glory, and walk out the door. Once outside, I sit on the picnic table and run my hands over her strings.
The song he wants me to sing isn’t one I have done often, and although I know it, I don’t actually feel it. I have to feel a song to get lost in it. I have to connect with it.
I have never had professional training. I can’t read music. It’s all through feeling and by ear. I want this to be good for him, for her, for Brand.
After a few minutes, I get the chords straight. And the words, once I hear a song, I don’t forget it.
I begin, “I set out on a narrow road many years ago.” To connect with this line, I think of Garrett and how damn hard it must have been for him to leave home, knowing what he was leaving behind.
“Hoping I would find true love along the broken road.” The line forces me to step back to where he was broken, torn the fuck apart by what had happened to him when we were kids, back to when he found her—Juliana.
I stop playing because it’s out of fucking sequence; the story doesn’t flow. I shake it off. This is for Garrett.
“But I got lost a time or two. Wiped my brow and kept pushing through.” I close my eyes and continue through the entire song, over and over, until it’s perfect.
Why the hell do I care if it’s perfect when I know
love is a fucking joke? Because the more time spent here, the more I watch them and see that girl, Mandee, light up when she’s helping them plan, the more I am starting to believe that maybe, just fucking maybe, it’s a choice.
Lightning may have struck not once, but twice here in these trees, but it certainly couldn’t hit it three times without fucking things up.
I would give them happiness, above my own, and love is no different. They can have it. It would be wasted on someone like me.
§
The next two days are spent mowing, planting, building, and working my balls off next to Gage, Garrett, and little Brand.
It’s a fucking amazing time, lost in the feelings of everything’s going to be all right, until night falls and I can’t sleep. Then I get on my bike and drive. Done it two nights in a row, trying to work up the courage to walk in the bar, face her, that girl, Mandee, who was my first female friend, and whose friendship I pissed on. I want to make it right, especially knowing I’m going to be facing her again for the wedding.
However, I can’t erase the image of the hurt in her eyes. I saw it and know there is no making it better. I can’t trust myself to not give her what we both want without hurting her worse.
I won’t lie and say I haven’t sat outside the bar on my bike, looking in through the window just to see her. I have. I won’t even pretend it was just the past two nights. It’s been almost every fucking night.
I won’t lie and say that when I see him, Blue, in there, for the first fucking time in my life, I wish I could trade places with another man, be fucking normal. I don’t even hate his ass enough to want him to have to carry the burden I do.
Then reality hits, and I ride. I ride until I get just far enough away that I know if I go one mile farther, I’m not going to be back, and I have to be back for this wedding, for them.
Today, I am twisted up, angry, and I know it’s because they will be here soon.
When I see the SUV pulling down the drive and kicking up dirt, I know damn well I have to get the fuck out of here.
“Uncle Gray?” I look down at Brand, who is holding my guitar. “Teach me more?”
I take in a deep breath and nod. “Sure thing, Brand, sure thing.”
Chapter Ten
Cop Car
Mandee
“Today is the day I have prepared for all my life, Tritt,” I say, laughing as I step out of the shower.
He rubs against my wet leg. I swear he looks up and rolls his eyes at me.
“Okay, fine, it’s not my big day, but it’s something I have dreamed about for as long as I can remember.” I stick my tongue out at him and grab my brush. As soon as I turn on the blow dryer, he is out the door. “Chicken,” I call after him and laugh.
Blowing my hair out, I reflect on the past week and sigh. It’s been emotional, confusing, almost sexual, and kind of disappointing. Above all, I feel like life is again being breathed into my lungs.
The positive. My freak out seemed to have pushed my father. Dad seems to have had seven years of weight lifted off his shoulders. More than seven, I suppose, but the past seven have been the hardest. The years Mom was here, until the light left her eyes, he had fight in him. A fight and a calm that mixed as well as Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey and peach iced tea.
I breathe out as I roll my round brush through my hair and continue doing the thing that I, Mandee Carlen, do best—reel in the feelings.
Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey and peach iced tea is the drink that fills one of the new coolers. All in pretty, little mason jars with handles and red and black flannel ribbon tied around them.
Juliana, the bride, is pregnant, so a champagne toast is off the proverbial table, and she wanted something her future husband would like. Phoenix took my suggestions, and he tasted all of them. Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey and peach iced tea won.
Most of our planning has been over FaceTime. Juliana has a broken leg, is pregnant, and isn’t really into being too far from home—their home.
No bachelor or bachelorette parties and no showers. Just a small and very personal wedding to be held at their home. Then the reception is at Carlin’s.
I have not allowed myself to feel since that day with Grayson, and then when he told me it wasn’t going to happen.
My feelings, the ones we cannot control and try to avoid, I knowingly allowed them to happen. The hurt caused by allowing myself to think that a man like him would honestly be as attracted to me as I was to him, I am almost embarrassed I allowed them. He has never been anything but straightforward, yet I find myself wishing I could somehow change his mind.
Blue has been around a little more than usual. It’s weird. He calls himself my boyfriend. Hell, everyone calls him that. Sometimes I think maybe, just maybe, I am a horrible human for allowing desire to trump reason. Regardless, he leaves soon.
I have been coming to terms with the realization that if everyone else believes Blue and I are good for each other, then I should do the same. They all seem more at ease around me and that always makes me happy. However, it’s only for a summer.
Yet, Grayson creeps in. Every time Blue kisses me, hugs me, gets close to me, his words...those possessive and sexy words, creep in.
“He doesn’t get to touch your body. The second my cock is splitting you in half, that motherfucker doesn’t even get to cop a feel.”
I am thankful I am in a towel, because the panties and bra I ordered special for today are different than my everyday white, and they would be a tad...wet right now if I were wearing them. Special ordered panty and bra, the first since moving home.
Dad takes care of all the finances and gets all the statements. I always stick with virgin white, because once I ordered lace, and he didn’t say a darn thing about it, but I saw him get tense, almost angry while at his desk. I waited until he left his office to look over what it was that had sprung on that discomfort in him and realized what it was. I never did it again. This transaction was cash to Phoenix when she was ordering from Victoria Secrets on her card. No questions asked or explanations needed. Thank God.
Thankfully, this week has been busy and thoughts of Grayson were only once in a while. Maybe more than once in a while, like when I saw a motorcycle light outside the bar, or heard a song that was overtly sexual, or when I had to stop myself from going to the lake, not wanting him to see me as desperate. Nevertheless, I have been busy all the same, with wedding preparation and working side by side with Dad to learn the things about the bar he’s never taught me, like ordering, the banking, payroll, and scheduling hours.
I walk out into the bedroom and toward my closet. The bridesmaid dress is with Phoenix at Falcon’s Landing, so I grab a pink floral sundress and toss it on my bed. Then I turn back to my closet and dig deep behind the clothes, pulling out the little bag my goodies are in.
I smile while pulling out the black corset and matching black thong. After I put them on, I stand in front of my full-length mirror and look myself over.
I feel sexy, almost naughty, which also makes me smile. Then I scold myself inside for allowing those thoughts before quickly realizing these will be under my dress and no one will know. It is and will be my secret.
Once again, I smile.
Dressed, I finish packing my overnight bag since I will be staying at the Landing tonight with Phoenix in her cabin. Dad was fine with the idea since he will be leaving at four in the morning for his much overdue vacation.
He has been constantly repeating to himself that I am a grown woman who can handle the added responsibility. I am unsure if he’s trying to convince himself or me, but I am truly excited about a girls’ night with my best friend.
I am also excited that, with added responsibility, seems to come added me time. Two people have been added to our staff of now five, including Dad and I. Phoenix and I will always work nights together. Those also happen to be the only two nights I am now scheduled to work. Pearl and I will work Monday through Friday days, and I will do a swing shift Friday night. Sa
turday, I will be working during the day, unless we have live entertainment, which for the next three weeks while he is gone, we won’t.
Dad thinks it’s too much for me. I think, if that’s what it takes to see him smile even if it’s just every so often, and it makes the possibility of us both living more and existing less, I will do just about anything.
I walk out of my room to find Dad at the counter with my coffee. When he hands it to me, I take a big sip.
“You look beautiful, Mandee,” he says, and I nearly choke. “Just like your mother.”
The choking sensation is replaced with a smile and tears filling my eyes.
He continues, “I trust you. And although this is going to be hard, the thought of you...” He stops and looks down. “I don’t want you to not live, Mandee.”
“I don’t want that for you, either,” I tell him.
He nods. “I’m trying, Doodlebug.”
The word “Doodlebug” brings a smile to my face. He hasn’t called me that since I was about ten.
“Still that girl.” He nods and clears his throat. “Not crayons, paints, or tape anymore, but still always happiest when creating. That’s your gift. Your mom knew it. I must have forgot. Seeing you with that planner, the decorations in the new addition, I’m thinking maybe when I get back, maybe that’s your focus—events.”
I set my cup down and hug him tightly. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, Doodlebug, I’m sure.” He squeezes me back. “You better get up to the Landing. Those girls are gonna need you and your attention to detail. Nothing more important than the day you commit to loving one person for the rest of your life.”
“In sickness and in health, Daddy,” I tell him, hoping that’s a reminder that the vows he said didn’t say you died the day the person you loved did. “You did that. You—”
He kisses the top of my head then steps back. “I know that. Now get out of here. I’ll see you at the bar.”
“You mean the venue?” I smile.
“Sure do, Doodlebug.”
§
Turning down the driveway about a quarter mile past the main drive into Falcon’s Landing, onto the dirt road to Garrett and Juliana’s home, the place they will get married, my phone rings.
