The name I saw almost caused me to drive off the road.
Mallory.
I pulled over onto the gravel shoulder before responding. I’d learned my lesson before my senior year in high school when I was texting Trish and ran my truck into a shallow ditch. I got lucky.
Mallory: I’m sorry.
I debated about how to respond when another text came up.
Mallory: I don’t want to hurt you.
Me: Friends don’t lie.
Mallory: Are we still friends?
Me: I don’t know.
There was a long pause and I put the truck in gear when I heard the ping. I threw it back into neutral.
Mallory: I hope so.
Me: Can we talk about this when I get back? I’m driving home now.
Ten seconds after I hit send, my phone rang.
“Hel—”
“Please tell me you aren’t texting and driving.” Mallory’s panicked voice ripped through me.
I had to remain calm. “Relax, I pulled over.”
She exhaled audibly. “Thank God. But you could’ve waited until you got to your house.”
“No, I couldn’t. You would’ve freaked out.” I paused for a moment. “I couldn’t do that to you.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was steady, but the quiver underneath it was undeniable.
“Hold on a sec.” I turned on my Bluetooth and put the earpiece in. One day I’d have a truck with built-in Bluetooth, but there’s something about driving a classic. I slipped the truck into first and eased back onto the highway. “Can you hear me?”
“Sure. Are you driving now?”
“Yeah, I’ve still got an hour and a half before I get to the farm.” The Iowa landscape rolled by. Field after field of harvested corn and soybeans peppered by the occasional barn and house. A few tractors sat in the middle of their fields, abandoned for the weekend celebrations. God, I loved Iowa.
“Maybe we should hang up. I don’t want you to get in a wreck or something.” The quiver in her voice was unmistakable.
The last thing I wanted to do was hang up. “You realize this is the first time you’ve called me?”
“I had to. I thought you were being stupid.”
“Well, that’s a given.”
“Very funny, Aaron.”
I smiled at the quick change in her voice. “If I’d known that was all it took, I would’ve done something stupid earlier.”
She coughed to cover her laugh. “I heard about what happened last night. Are you okay?”
“You mean with Trish? How’d you find out about that?”
“I ran into Chuck at Markum’s this morning. He was picking out a turkey.”
“Ah, the gossip king of Westland. If his therapy career fails, he might have a future as a member of the paparazzi.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she said.
“You don’t answer any of mine.” I let that sink in even though it was a little assholey. “Sorry, that was—”
“No, don’t be. Friends don’t lie.”
I hated ever saying that to her, but I wasn’t going to take it back. “No, they don’t. And, to answer your question, I was pissed at first. But she said something, well, that I needed to hear. She told me I needed to grow some balls.” Mallory inhaled sharply, but I kept going. “But the fact is, I had. She used to walk all over me. She thought she could manipulate me into driving her home and playing like we were still together.”
“I heard she slapped you,” Mallory said, anger raising her voice to a higher pitch. It was kind of sexy.
“Chuck must have spies everywhere.” I laughed. Seth had probably shared it with him. He was just as bad as Chuck. “Yeah, she did. It stung, but it didn’t hurt.”
Mallory’s anger hadn’t abated one bit from my joke. “What a bitch. She was in the lounge last night. I guess it was before she came over to your room. Anyway, she was at a table with that Candy girl. They were talking in great detail about…”
“About what?”
“I shouldn’t tell you this,” she said.
“I think you should.” She sighed, and I wanted her to sigh in my ear sometime. I was such a lovesick wuss.
“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She didn’t speak for several seconds. I could almost see her sucking her lip into her mouth. “They were talking about how bad you are in bed.”
I almost drove off the road.
“And they were doing it loudly enough that I could hear them.”
Words failed me. Nothing sarcastic. Nothing even slightly humorous. I couldn’t think of a damned thing to say to her. The need to explain, to justify their accusations, overwhelmed my vocal cords.
“Aaron?”
“Uh…”
“Well, I was still mad about…earlier. When they started going into graphic detail about certain…parts of your anatomy, I went over to their table and put an end to it. Candy looked a little embarrassed, but Trish acted like I’d stolen her high.”
“What did you do?” I forced the words from my mouth.
“Um… I told them that if they hadn’t fucked half of the school, they’d know what a real man is like and that you’re one.”
The image of five-foot-nothing Mallory facing off against Trish and Candy took some tension from me. But that white elephant still sat on my chest. Taking a quiet, deep breath, I ripped off the Band-Aid. “I never slept with Candy.”
Mallory didn’t say anything right away. I waited for her to respond. “It’s not really my business, is it?”
“Isn’t it?” My voice sounded all throaty and breathless. It wasn’t me at all, but it felt right in a way. That’s how Mallory made me feel. If it was possible to see tension across the digital cell line, this would’ve been visible. I cleared my throat. “Thanks. For standing up for me. I don’t think anyone’s ever really done that for me before.”
“You’re welcome.” A distinct sniffling sound came through the line. “I’m sorry. For the way I’ve been the last few weeks. I’m trying to be better at this. It’s just…it’s so easy to shut myself down.”
“Yeah, I get that.” And I did. Mallory had been alone in that house since she was eighteen. She’d cut herself off from the world. Letting me in even a little was monumental. I loved that she trusted me enough to try.
“Aaron, when you get back, maybe we can…talk. I mean really talk.”
“I’d like that.”
“I think I would, too.”
“So, what’s your grandma doing for Thanksgiving?” I changed the subject to the only thing that popped into my head. Probably wasn’t the best subject to change it to, though. Until Mallory chuckled.
“She’s cooking for Aunt Chrissy and a few of their neighbors.” Mallory’s voice lit up at the mention of her grandmother. It wasn’t what I expected. “I wish I could see her, but I have to work all weekend, and a round trip ticket to Phoenix isn’t cheap. At least I know she’s enjoying herself with her new friends. She deserves it.”
“All grandparents do.” I pictured Grandma Eddie and Grandma Jean showing up at a neighbor’s house. They’d hate it if they couldn’t do their own cooking. They have a hard enough time letting Mom do most of the work. “So, what’s up with the cat?”
Mallory laughed. “You mean Mickey? He’s a troublemaker but a good kitty.”
“You seriously didn’t name your cat after Mickey Mantle.” It was hard to keep the amusement out of my voice.
“No, he’s named after the famous mouse. When I found him, his ears were too big for his head.”
“Found him? Tell me about it.” I settled into my seat.
“After…after I moved in with Grandma, he showed up on the steps.” Her tone darkened for a moment. “I snuck him into the house and hid him in my room, but you can hide a cat for only so long. Grandma found him the next day when she went in for my laundry.”
“Was she mad?”
“Yes and no.” Mallory sighed. I loved how she opened up more
to me every day. “It felt like he was sent to me. Grandma understood, or just played along. Either way, Mickey moved in.”
“He hissed at me. Not sure how much of a good kitty he is.”
Mallory chuckled. “He doesn’t do well with strangers.”
We stayed on the phone for the rest of my drive. Our conversation steered toward simple things, even a little history quiz. Mallory told me a few historical facts that would’ve bored me to tears if someone else shared them. She made history come alive with her passion. I didn’t want to hang up when I pulled onto the gravel road leading to the farm. I slowed to almost a crawl until the truck crested the small hill and the two-story white house with wraparound porch came into view.
“Mallory…I have to go, love.” The word slipped out, and I wanted to take it back because there was no way Mallory wanted to hear that.
The familiar Mallory Fine pause filled the space. “Have fun with your family, Aaron.”
“Thanks. What’re you doing besides working?” I put the truck in neutral, letting it idle while my mom waved from the back door. I waved back and motioned that I was on my phone. Mom shook her head, and I couldn’t stop the smirk spreading. Mallory didn’t ask me not to call her love. It felt like a huge victory.
“I’m behind on my reading.”
That was impossible. I laughed, and Mallory’s giggle joined me. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Or text.”
I laughed. “Or text.”
We said good-bye, and like some lovesick junior high girl, I waited until I knew she had hung up before I took the Bluetooth from my ear. I turned to open the door and almost shit my pants. Bright blue hair filled the view out my window. My sister grinned like she had eaten the last of the pie. That’s when I saw the lip ring. And the fucking nose ring.
Oh this was going to be a great Thanksgiving.
Mom and Chelsea weren’t talking, but I had known that for weeks. Dad wasn’t home from the shop yet, and my grandparents weren’t due until later this evening. My aunts and uncles had rolled in throughout the day and were hiding in their hotel rooms in town.
My Thanksgiving weekend with the family was starting out just great.
I took my bags to my room and immediately realized some redecorating was in order. I’d finally gotten Trish out of my heart; it was time to get her completely out of my life. Taking the stairs faster than I had in months, I went into the kitchen to grab a trash bag.
“I talked to the Hendersons yesterday. They were excited to see you and Trish this weekend.” Mom kept wiping the already clean counter. “I thought you two had split up.”
I tugged the bag free from the box, letting the cabinet door beneath the sink slap shut. “We did.”
“I don’t understand, honey. Why hasn’t she told her parents?” Her cleaning frenzy moved to the doors of the stainless-steel fridge. “I know boys will be boys and you wanted to see other people—”
“Trish ended it with me, Mom. Not the other way around.” I leaned against the counter and watched her disinfect the door handles. “I told you that.”
She stopped and opened the door, tossing a water bottle toward me. “I know what you told me, Aaron. I just thought that you were trying to…”
“Trying to what? She wanted to see other people. I didn’t.” I put the trash bag on the counter, walked up to her, and planted a kiss on her forehead. “But it was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Mom sighed. “You may think that now, but you two were—”
“I know you liked Trish, but she treated me like shit. That’s not how I want to live my life.” I grabbed the bag and started toward the stairs when I stopped, turning around to confront her. “Are you ever going to talk to Chelsea?”
The frustrated scrubbing moved to the already clean sink. “She won’t listen.”
I snorted and spoke before thinking. “She’s not the one who won’t listen.”
“What?” Mom spun on her heel, her face reddening with anger.
“Tell her the real reason why you don’t want her to leave, Mom. Tell her what you told me after I was drafted. Tell her that you’re scared. She needs to hear you say it instead of just telling her how dangerous it is. Tell her you don’t want to lose her. But let her go to New York. Let her have her dreams.”
“New York’s dangerous—”
“Yep, so’s Madison. So’s Iowa City. So’s Cedar Rapids. She’ll be fine. Don’t let your fear stop Chels from living her life. Just trust her.” I took off down the hall and up the stairs before she could respond.
Chelsea sat on the top step, grinning at me sadly. “Thank you.”
I patted the top of her head. “Get rid of the blue hair. Mom’ll come around, but you need to stop acting out like a kid.”
“I am a kid.”
“Kids don’t get to go to New York.”
“Fine. I get it.” She stood and pointed at the trash bag. “What’s up with that?”
“Throwing out some bad memories. Want to help?”
“Hell yes. I’ve wanted to do it myself for months.”
I threw my arm around my little sister and laughed. “Wish you would’ve.”
We spent the next hour removing all the stuff Trish-related. Chelsea went to the basement for a box to keep the things she didn’t think I should throw out. I let her pack up that shit. The love notes, some photos, and a couple of stupid Tshirts (that I never wore) got tossed into the trash bag. Once my room was devoid of my ex-girlfriend, Chelsea and I went out to the burn barrel. I grabbed the lighter fluid and the box of matches. Chelsea was a little too excited to empty the trash bag into the barrel, and she laughed when I put more lighter fluid onto the memories than I needed to.
“You ready?” I asked, poised to light the match.
She smiled, but it faded fast. “Wait. Can I tell you something and you won’t be mad at me for not telling you sooner?”
I raised my eyebrows, promising nothing.
“You remember Mitch Larsen?”
“Yeah, he was a year ahead of me.”
She took a deep breath and a step back. “Remember your senior year when you missed the spring bonfire?” I nodded. I’d been down with the flu and missed the first week of baseball season. “I saw her. With him. In a way a sister should never see her brother’s girlfriend, if you get my drift.”
Unfortunately, I did. “You’d think it would bother me more, sis, but I’m not surprised. Sad, but not upset.” I shrugged. “It’s the past. I’m ready to start a future.”
“I should’ve told you, but…well, I—” She closed the distance between us, pulling me into a bear hug. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll tell you if your next girlfriend is hoe-skank.”
“Thanks. I think.” I grinned as I let her go. “Let’s burn this shit.”
Chelsea laughed, and I struck the match. Neither one of us really expected the big whoosh followed by a wave of heat that erupted as soon as the match hit the lighter fluid. It almost knocked me on my ass. Chelsea’s laughter grew hysterical, and I joined in. We watched until the flames died down.
“Guess I’ll go fix my hair,” Chelsea said, a hint of sadness coloring her voice. “You know, I did this today to piss Mom off. It washes out.”
“Yeah, I know why you did it. Ditch the nose ring and lip ring, too. Grandma Eddie might kick your ass all the way to New York if you don’t.”
Chelsea popped off the magnetic rings and slid them into her pocket. “She’s not going to let me go, is she?”
“She will. But you have to understand why she doesn’t want you to. The real reason, not the bullshit she keeps throwing at you.”
“Thanks, Aaron.”
My cell rang and I pulled it free from my back pocket. The shit-eating grin on my face was a dead giveaway.
Chelsea leaned over and raised her eyebrows. “Who’s Mallory?”
I didn’t respond as I walked toward the barn, answering the phone. “Hi.”
“Hey.” She sou
nded distant, like she was hiding behind something.
“Is everything okay?” I pulled open the side door and stepped into the darkness. The lights flickered on like the lights of Fenway, slowly then—bam—the entire inside of the barn lit up. The combine and two tractors shone red with fresh wax. Dad always waxed his implements for winter. I used to think it was stupid, but Dad told me it was his way of thanking them for another good year. His baseball superstitions bled into farming. He used to do something similar with his glove, a habit I picked up.
Confusion clouded her voice. “Yeah, I just…I don’t know why I called.”
“You don’t have to have a reason, you know.” I climbed into the cab of the combine and settled into the leather seat. “Anything exciting going on in Madison?”
“Other than the usual, no.” She laughed. “How’s the family? Your sister?”
My heart almost stopped. She always avoided family. Instead of holding back, I told her about the drama between Mom and Chelsea. She listened, not once interrupting me.
“You have a great relationship with Chelsea.” There was something I never thought I’d hear from Mallory. A hint of jealousy in her voice.
“Yeah,” I said, knowing I’d need to tread lightly here. But it wasn’t like she had any siblings of her own. “We fight sometimes, but we’ve always had each other’s back.”
“That’s nice. That you care so much for her.” She inhaled deeply into the phone, and I half expected more, but she changed the subject to the book she’d finished reading. She told me the entire story. Her voice soothed me as she talked about a torrid love affair gone wrong and the injustice of the fictitious murder. I told her about burning the past.
“Sometimes that doesn’t help,” Mallory said. The joy that had just been in her voice was gone.
“It doesn’t change anything, but it felt like I finally closed that door. I needed that.” I held my breath before letting the words out as gently as I could. “I’m ready to start my life with the right person. With someone who loves to read. Someone who loves history.” I let out my breath. “With the only someone who gets me.”
“What if she’s not?” Mallory asked.
“Then I’ll wait until she is.”
Full Count (Westland University) Page 12
