Who I Am With You

by Amanda Lanclos

  “Um,” I squirm uncomfortably under the woman’s kind but interrogating gaze. “I am. I just don’t remember much. I came back here hoping I’d be able to remember something. But all I remember is a ten year old me and a guy named Dallas.”

  “Dallas you say? Handsome guy with stunning eyes?”

  “Yes ma’am. Do you know him? Is he still around here?” Maybe this stranger will give me some kind of information on him.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll see him around.” She smiles coyly before drinking another sip of her coffee. “What are your plans while you’re here, Kennedy?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure. I don’t want to just mooch off my mother, so I may go and look for a job.”

  “Don’t you own a company?”

  “Oh, yes. But I can’t run it, because I don’t remember anything about it.” I hate that I have to admit that I don’t know a damn thing about something I built from the ground up and babied.

  “You know how to clean?”

  “Well, of course.” Who the heck is this woman?

  “Well, I’m needing someone to come help me clean up around my place. This ole arthritis just isn’t helping my hands lately.” She pats my hand and I can see how her fingers curve. That has to be painful. “I’ll give you three hundred a week to come out and help me a couple of hours a day. Give me some company too.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Stella. You’ve got yourself a deal.” She gives me a mischievous grin as she rises from the table.

  “Well good,” she reaches into her purse, pulls out a pen and a small notepad and writes down something.

  “You come on over to my house after church tomorrow and we can cook some red beans and talk about what I need you to help me with.”

  “Yes ma’am.” She turns to leave, but I stop her. “Mrs. Stella, thank you.”

  “Oh baby, I ain’t gave you nothin’ to thank me for yet. But I will.” She chuckles a little as she walks to the door. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that woman was up to something, but I just don’t know what.

  “Kennedy?” A guy’s voice comes from behind me and I jerk. I hate not knowing anyone. My head turns to the side, looking into a pair of brown eyes.

  “Um, hi?” I rack my brain, trying to figure out who this guy is. I realize he’s wearing a police officer uniform and his tag has Rodriguez on it. Do I know him? I take in his tanned skin and short black hair. He’s bulging with muscles and could probably outrun me on a good day.

  “You really don’t remember anything do you?” His eyes soften as he realizes I know nothing. “I’m Nelson. We graduated together.”

  “I feel like such an idiot, not being able to remember,” I complain as I try to fight back the tears. I want so badly to remember everything, but I can’t. “I’m so sorry,” I manage to choke out as I sniffle.

  “Don’t be sorry. You were in an accident. From what I heard, you’re lucky to still be amongst the living.”

  “I don’t know if it was that bad.” I smile through the sobs. “Small town living at its finest.”

  “What do you mean?” His left eyebrow goes up as he looks at me, both hands on his hips just above his utility belt.

  “Everybody dies famous in a small town,” I laugh softly. I’d always wanted to use that Miranda Lambert line, but never had an appropriate time to.

  “Yeah, word travels fast. But none of us knew you were coming back. I bet Dallas is gonna freak the fuck out.” He winces as he says it. “Yeah, probably shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why not?” Why won’t anyone talk about Dallas? What happened?

  “You guys didn’t end on good terms. Actually, you tore his heart out and stepped on it with your pretty little cowgirl boots.” He gives me a shrug as he looks out the window. “Look, I have to go back to the station, but it was great seeing you, Kennedy.”

  “Yeah, I um. You too,” I grumble as I throw the rest of my coffee in the garbage. What are you supposed to say when someone just tells you that the person you can’t remember was pretty damn ugly inside?

  Chapter Five

  Looking at the piece of paper that contained Stella’s address, I confirm that the place before me is where I’m supposed to be. Out in the middle of nowhere. Down the dirt road, there’s a huge sign that says Garrison Ranch and that name sounds so familiar, but I can’t peg it. I hate not being able to remember my life.

  I turn the Tahoe into the pebbled driveway that leads up to the older style trailer that is full of planters and trees all around it. I don’t know Stella enough, but this place seems like it would fit her. There are bird feeders all over the property as well as a few squirrel feeders.

  Climbing from the truck, I walk toward her front door, wiping the sweat on my palms. I don’t really know what to expect with this woman and that scares me. Not in a way that has me running for fear of my life, but on the unexpected. She’s a ticking time bomb with her words, but it makes her fun.

  “You just gonna stand there and stare at my door? Or where you gonna walk on up here and let an old lady know she gots company?” Stella’s voice comes from my left and I jump.

  “Oh my God!” I squeal as my hand clutches my chest as I try to calm my beating heart.

  “Now girl, in this house, we never use the Lord’s name in vain.” She scolds me as she shakes her finger at me.

  “Sorry,” I mumble like a child who’s been scorned for being caught sneaking candy before supper.

  “Come on ‘round this side of the house. I’m just picking some of the vegetables out of the garden. You can help me.” She waves me in the direction she came from, turning back around and walking without even waiting to see if I’m going to follow her.

  “Yes ma’am.” I take in her appearance, smiling as I notice her soft cotton pants and shirt. She reminds me of my Nana, even with the snarky comments she makes. Wait, I’m remembering me more of Nana?

  “You want a hat for your head, baby?” Stella asks as she continues to pick some tomatoes from one of the many rows of her garden.

  “Oh, no ma’am. But, do you have another basket? I can pick something else if you’d like me to.”

  “Well, I ain’t paying ya to sit around and look pretty,” She mumbles something that I don’t understand before she laughs loudly. “Goodness girl. Yes, over there on the back porch. Grab one and pick some of that okra for me, would ya?”

  “Yes ma’am,” I look around, spotting the old wooden baskets, grabbing one before going over to the okra a few rows down from where she’s picking tomatoes. “Mrs. Stella, this is a pretty amazing garden. What all do you have in here?”

  “I have a little bit of lettuce, a few corn stalks, tomatoes, radishes, green onions, snap peas, okra, bell pepper, squash, zucchini and some blueberry bushes over there in the corner.” Her voice carries over to me with the wind and I am in awe.

  “Mrs. Stella, can I ask you a question without you getting offended?” I put my basket down and walk over to her, hoping I don’t hurt her feelings.

  “Baby girl, I’ve lived through a lot. I’ve learned you can’t be too easily offended in this day and age.”

  “How old are you?” I blurt, hoping she doesn’t get upset with me.

  “I’m sixty-five, but don’t look a day over fifty,” she smiles as she picks another tomato and wipes the dirt off of it. “Why you asking?”

  “I’m just in awe. You get out here, tending this garden in the summer heat. You have to be exhausted.”

  “Well, Kennedy, I won’t lie, it’s hard work. But, I have a good looking neighbor who helps me out when I ask him and in return he gets lots of home cooking.”

  “I wish I could cook. I don’t even remember if I enjoyed cooking.” I rack my brain trying to remember anything from the past ten years of my life, but it never comes to me.

  “Well, come on girl. Let’s get to teaching you how to cook. I fried up some bacon this morning so I got a good cup of bacon grease. We’ll make some red beans since they been soaking all night
and put some of that good bacon grease in there to flavor it and the cornbread.” She grabs my hand, pulling me toward the house, but stops when she looks in my basket. “Better yet, you go pull some more okra. We’re gonna make some okra and tomatoes and that ain’t gonna feed a baby bird.”

  “Really? That’s like twenty pieces.” I gripe but the stern look in her face makes me move.

  “Get double what you got and when you get done I’ll have you a nice cold glass of sweet tea.” She reaches for the rail on the porch, climbing slowly. I don’t know how that woman does everything that she does with how her fingers are shaped. Arthritis seemed to have taken a toll on her and for the worst. I hate it for her, because she is such an amazingly sweet woman. Well, when she wants to be.

  I pick double what she told me before coming back to the porch where she’s standing with a glass mason jar full of sweet tea. “Lord, girl. You look like you’re melting out here. Come on inside and let’s get cooled off before we put you to the heat in the kitchen.” She lets out a soft laugh as we walk into her home.

  I take in the old plaid couch set and the huge armoire that encases her television set, sitting in her living room. There are pictures of her and her husband everywhere and one that has a prayer with his picture inside it. I don’t even have to ask, because looking at it, I can tell he is no longer on earth.

  “That’s Calvin. He passed away three years ago, right before I moved here. Got in an accident on the railroad.”

  “I’m so sorry Mrs. Stella,” I take a sip of my tea, because I don’t really know what else to say.

  “Don’t be. The good Lord blessed me with forty-six years with him. We got married when I was sixteen.”

  “Sixteen?”

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’m sixty-five years old girl. Times have changed a hell of a lot since I was young.” She gives me a stern look, before taking in my clothing. “Sure have. I’d never have been caught dead outside my house in what you’re wearing.”

  I look down at my tank top, shorts and tennis shoes. “And what’s so wrong with what I’m wearing?” I haughtily question. “If you want to throw insults, I don’t need a job that badly.”

  “Oh Kennedy, come on now. I’m just teasing, but your butt cheeks are almost hanging out. But, that’s what you wanna wear, so, so be it.” She lets out a laugh and I want to yell.

  “You don’t know a thing about me.” I grumble.

  “Well, neither do you. So I guess we will learn together.”

  “Oh my God! Do you not have any manners?” I stomp my foot and throw my hands into the air.

  “What have I told you about using the Lord’s name in vain in this house?” She gives me a cold glare before she turns toward the kitchen. “If I didn’t love that boy next door like my own kid, I swear girl.”

  “What are you talking about?” I cross my arms over my chest and stare at her. What boy next door? What the hell was this woman doing?

  “Nothin’. I need to bring that boy some dinner and I need help cooking. I get lonely here by myself. I ain’t got no family and I want some company. So, I’ll stop bickering and teasing you, but I’d like you to stay.” Stella looks at me, before tying a bandana around her head, similar to the way Aunt Jemima wears hers on the syrup bottle I saw the other day. “What you say?”

  “Okay. Let bygones be bygones?” I ask with my hand held out for her to shake. She slips her hand into mine before pulling me with her to the sink.

  “Come on, we’re gonna rinse these and get them cooking. We have about three hours before he’s expecting this,” she gives me a shy smile. “Kinda our tradition, and I may have gotten on his bad side this morning, too.”

  “You seem to be good at that.”

  “Yeah, this old mouth of mine gets me into trouble quite often,” she chuckles as she rinses the beans and sticks them on the stove. “Now, let’s get to work.”

  What the heck did I sign up for?

  Two hours later, I am sitting on the front steps of the Garrison ranch, waiting for the man to come home so I can give him Stella’s food and go home. I’d knocked on the green-screened door, but that warranted nothing. So instead, I sat on the wooden stairs picking at the weeds growing up through them. I’d only been here for a few minutes when I saw a gray-colored truck coming down the driveway. I didn’t really know what to expect but after spending a day with a woman that could probably rival Chef Gordon Ramsay, I would take anyone.

  The man’s vehicle slowly comes to a halt a few feet from the stairs I’m sitting on, which makes me stand. I brush my hands on my shorts then put them at my sides so that I don’t try to fluff my hair. He’s attractive with his wide shoulders, or what I can see of them anyway. I get this weird feeling as our eyes meet through the vehicle, but I don’t really know why.

  He slowly steps out of the truck, shutting the door and with the grace of a panther walks toward me. His body is like one smooth, well-oiled machine. My eyes scan from the tip of his baseball cap covered head, to his defined jawline, continuing their decent down to his strong shoulders covered by the black shirt he has over them. They travel down further to his slim waist, and lower still to his groin which by the look of it, shows that the man is perfection, because in a pair of Wranglers it’s kind of hard to hide anything; flaccid or not. My eyes trail his legs to his boots, but as soon as my name reaches my ears, they shoot right back up to his eyes.

  “Kennedy?” His mouth moves again and his voice comes over my ears, but I can’t speak because I am entranced. His back goes ramrod straight as he comes toward me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me softly. “Are you gonna answer me? Dammit!”

  “I, I’m sorry,” I say softly. “I’m Kennedy.” My eyes look toward the ground, because I can’t handle the emotions his are portraying when he looks into mine. The stunning hazel eyes I’ve dreamt of since I remembered them and they can’t even look at me without being laced with pain and hurt and anger.

  “Ten years, and you decide to show up on my fucking porch. Ten years, Ken! Wanna tell me why?” He lets go of me, pacing back and forth as he waits for my answer.

  “Because, Stella sent me with your red beans.” I don’t know what else he wants from me. It’s obvious that we had a rocky past, but I can’t remember a thing. I scramble to get the food Stella sent me down here with, but in my haste I trip over my own two feet and fall flat on my face.

  “Shit, Kennedy! Are you okay?” Dallas grabs me, pulling me up and into his arms so that he can see if I’ve hurt anything.

  “I’m fine, Dallas. Thank you. I’ll just leave the food on the step. Enjoy your dinner.” I dust my hands off, turning my back to him and walking to my vehicle.

  “That’s all you have to say to me? I’ve waited all this time for you to come back here and this is it?” He asks me quietly, but I don’t really know what he expects of me.

  I stand there for a moment, deciding the truth is the best way to go. Slowly turning around, I see him standing there with his hands on his hips, and a grimace on his face. Something tells me that this is not the reunion he was really expecting, but it’s the one he’s going to get.

  “Yes, because that’s all I can say.” I look anywhere but at him, because I know the look in his face is going to make me cry, even though I have no clue why. I don’t want to be the reason he looks at me in pain.

  “So, you have nothing to say about breaking my fucking heart out of my chest and leaving for ten years? Never coming back at all, no phone calls, nothing?” He glares at me as he spits the words out.

  “I can’t say anything because I don’t remember any of it. I was in a car accident two months ago,” I say quietly, blinking back the tears I’m feeling. I feel embarrassed that I’ve run into him and when he doesn’t say anything, and just stares at me like I’m crazy, I turn back. Running to the safety of my Tahoe, I climb in, crank the engine and speed down the dirt driveway before I let one tear fall.

  If I thought I would be happy to meet him again, I was
sadly mistaken. Now, I just prayed I’d never see him again.

  Chapter Six

  I stand there, watching the dust settle as Kennedy leaves me standing there for the second time in my life. Gripping my chest, I can’t breathe. I feel like this is what a person having a heart attack goes through. How can she not remember? Fuck, I feel as if it happened yesterday.

  Walking out onto the front porch of Mom and Dad’s place, I instantly see her. She looks beautiful in a white sundress with her dark brown cowboy boots with the gold crosses on them. Her blonde hair pulled to the side in a braid as she sits there, playing with a dandelion. Her head shoots up the second she hears the clip of my boots on the wood planks under them. Her eyes meet mine, but there’s something wrong. They don’t look at me with the happiness I’m so used to seeing.

  “You okay?” I hesitate, as I get closer to her, seeing her tear-stained face up closer. I don’t know what’s going on but I’m not sure I like it.

  “I’m okay, but I’m having a hard time deciding on something,” she almost whispers making me get closer to her to hear. Her soft smell comes into my nostrils and even with her so distraught I have to beg my damn dick to calm down. There is nothing quite like her scent, it’s unique, it reminds me of sunflowers and strawberries.

  “Well, talk to me baby. We can work this out.” I grab her hand, but she jumps up, stalking the stair she’s standing on.

  “I got the scholarship to the New York School of Interior Design.”

  “Baby! That’s amazing!” I stand, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. “Why are you so upset?”

  “Dallas, I’m leaving you for two years to be able to go to school,” she says sadly as she leans her head into the crook at my neck.

  “Well, that sucks, but I’ll come visit and you can come visit me. Baby, our love can withstand a few thousand miles.” I don’t know why she’s acting this way, we’ve grown up together.