Caught in the Flames

by Kacey Shea

  Me: OMG! Mean pancake lady is at the grocery store!

  Alicia: Aunt Jemima? I love that bitch.

  Jill adds nothing but crying laugh emojis. With tentative steps I wind my cart through the tempting aromas of sourdough and whole wheat.

  Me: What do I do? I’m scared for my life!

  Alicia: Calm down and finish shopping! You have a hot date to fuck tonight!

  The butcher lazily stocks fresh meat in the refrigerated display and I push my cart in that direction. I’ll feel safer shopping with a witness in case Meanie decides to approach me, but Alicia’s right. I don’t have time to waste. Chase is coming over in eight hours. I still have to shower, beautify, and make dinner.

  I contemplate the meat selection and my menu for tonight. Men like protein—a starving man is a grumpy man—but I don’t want anything that might upset my already nervous stomach. And then there are sauces and spices to consider . . . nothing too acidic or garlicy because kiss-burps are an immediate killer in the foreplay department. God, it’s all so much pressure! I blow out a frustrated exhalation and catch a flash of movement from the corner of my eye.

  Fuck! It’s her again. And if she thinks I can’t see her behind that display of chip bags she’s off her rocker. I decide to go with stir fry, sans onions, and grab a package of chicken breasts before pressing on toward the produce section. I stop every few yards to pretend to check my phone when really I’m using the selfie camera to watch this crazy woman dart behind aisle after aisle as she clearly follows me. Who the fuck is this chick and what does she want?

  Me: Okay. She’s totally following me. What do I do?

  Their replies come almost simultaneously.

  Jill: Finish shopping and LEAVE

  Alicia: Cut the bitch

  Sometimes these two are no help. I seize the peppers I need and wheel my cart toward the selection of rice. I can tell I’m being followed and it messes with my already frazzled nerves. Who does she think she is? Following another woman around the grocery story like a character from a psychological thriller. I toss a bag of brown rice into the mix and strut to the end of the pathway, where I nod a smile at the old woman sorting through her pile of coupons at the end cap. Well, I’m no victim and I sure as hell won’t let this woman think she bested me.

  I stroll into the next aisle at a lazy gait, but as soon as I turn the corner I race all the way to the end and turn into the next. Spinning around, I use my cart as a protective shield and wait. It doesn’t take long until she unsuspectingly rounds the corner, hot on my tail.

  Her steps halt and her eyes go wide, but not before she bumps my cart.

  I shove mine back in response, taking her by surprise. “What’s your game? Why are you following me?”

  “Are you talking to me?” Beauty bitch glances over her shoulder. Ha! Nice move, woman, but I’m not buying it.

  “Yes, I’m talking to you! You’ve been following me the entire time I’ve been here!”

  “I’m just shopping, hun,” she scoffs, and then adds beneath her breath, “You must be as crazy as the old lady.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve heard you like to spend time with Cuckoo Kiki.” She waves a hand as if she didn’t just offend me and then narrows her gaze. “You are the neighbor who’s been spending time with that old hag?”

  “Sometimes I stop and help Kiki with her cat, but she’s not crazy.” I don’t know why I feel the need to defend her, but Kiki’s been nothing but nice to me. This woman—well, she’s more like an evil witch.

  “Whatever.” Little Miss Bitch rolls her eyes. “I warned Chase to be careful with you.”

  “Chase?” Now she has my full attention. What does she know about Chase?

  “Yes, Chase. We spend time together.” I don’t like the way she says together. It’s probably just my jealous and protective inner bitch rearing her ugly head, but I reply without much thought.

  “Oh? Are you his mother?” I say sweetly. Her mouth falls open and a sound somewhere between a gasp and a choke comes out. Her cheeks turn a bright pink and her eyes narrow and blaze.

  “I never!” She turns on her heel, deserts her cart, and stomps toward the exit. I can’t help the wave of satisfaction that rolls over me in getting the best of that nasty woman. I never? Well, I’ve never been stalked through a grocery store.

  I finish my shopping, grab the last of the necessary items, and check out. My mind can barely focus on the task. Who was that woman and what does she have to do with my man? I’m loading my goods into the back of my Jeep when my phone pings from my purse. Crap! Alicia and Jill are probably worried I’ve been abducted. I jump into the driver’s seat and dig my cell from my bag.

  Chase: Hey, sorry I have to bail tonight.

  What the—? Tears sting the backs of my eyes. I’ve been anticipating this night for weeks. Really, since the moment we met, and now it’s not happening. And a text? Really?

  My fingers hover over the keypad of my phone while the cursor blinks in the respond box. I don’t even know what to say. He’s canceling our date tonight via text. I deserve better than that, a phone call at least.

  Chase: Callie?

  Me: Here.

  Chase: I’m really sorry. Lopez called out. He’s puking his guts out. I have to cover his shift. I’d rather be with you.

  Relief fills my gut. Oh. Thank God. It’s just work. And of course he wouldn’t call, not while on shift. Stupid that I even suspected his intentions were anything other than honorable.

  Me: We can reschedule. Be safe.

  Chase: Thanks, Callie. You’re the best.

  I hate coffee.

  Okay, that’s a lie. I just hate the way it’s impossible to jog and drink coffee at the same time. After tossing and turning alone last night when I should have been tangled up with Chase, I woke early and decided if I’m not getting lucky I might as well get in better shape. Besides, what else do I have to do on a Sunday morning?

  I lace up my sneakers and hit the pavement with purpose. But that energy fades with each advancing step. My abstinent morning exercise plan messes with my normally caffeine infused routine. So when I turn the corner about a half mile into my jog and Kiki flags me down with a cup of java in her hands, I have to stop.

  The cool morning air hits the hot brew and causes a swirl of steam to rise over the mug. She observes my infatuation and invites me inside to join her in a cup. I can’t not say yes. Not saying yes to coffee is like refusing Jesus. Okay, bad example. Lots of people refuse Jesus. I can still be friends with those people. But people who refuse coffee? I don’t trust those fuckers.

  So, instead of running to stay in shape for my hot ass fireman boyfriend, I’m having coffee with Kiki at her kitchen table. Enjoying every second. I inhale the roasted brew before cooling it with my exhale to take a long sip.

  Kiki’s interior décor is a mix between eclectic grandma and boho chic. Really, I wouldn’t expect normal from Kiki, so it fits her perfectly.

  “So, what is it you do for a job, Callie?”

  “I’m a graphic designer.”

  “Oh, that’s lovely, dear. Do you make T-shirts?” She furrows her brows and sips from her mug.

  I grin in response. “I actually do design for a firm that specializes in website development and company re-branding. Sometimes I get to design logos that go on T-shirts.”

  “A creative mind. I knew we were kindred spirits.” She pats my arm. “Plus, you’re a coffee addict like me.”

  “How did you know?” I sigh as I take another sip. She laughs, a throaty chuckle with a knowing look on her wrinkled face.

  “It’s written all over your face. I’m what I like to call seasoned. I’ve been on this earth a while. I can tell these things.”

  I bite my lip. She does seem exceptionally intuitive. Maybe she can help me out. “What else can you tell about me?”

  “You love yourself one of those fire boys,” she answers with a glint in her eyes.

  “How do you know that?
” I almost gasp. Maybe she’s psychic or a fortune teller. Oh, maybe she can read my aura.

  “I just know.” She shrugs as Silas jumps onto the table. Kiki shoos him down and he complies with an irritated meow. “That, and the ladies at tai chi told me you’ve been dating the captain.” She smirks. When she raises her mug to salute mine I have to let loose a little laugh of my own. No special mind reading powers, just good old fashion neighborhood gossip at its finest.

  “Yes, I’ve been dating Chase for a few weeks now.” Remembering the disappointment of yesterday and our missed date I have to resist the urge to pull out my phone to see if he’s called or texted. I’m sure he hasn’t. He won’t get off until nine and with this being his third shift in a row I don’t expect he’ll want to come over.

  “Trouble in paradise already? That’s not good! You’re a beautiful woman. He’s hot as sin. What’s the problem?”

  “No trouble. Really.” My lips pull into a frown as I remember the Evil Grocery woman. Maybe there’s more trouble than I’m aware of.

  “I’m not convinced. Tell Kiki about it and I’m sure I can help. Besides, I know everything about everyone.”

  I grin and consider her offer. I’m sure she does know everything. But I wonder how good she is with sharing secrets. I don’t have the time or energy to be involved in neighborhood politics. She scratches at her neck and it reveals a little of her weathered skin. I’m surprised at the colorful ink scrolled across her shoulder. This woman is full of surprises and there’s something in the way she smiles at me that makes me want to be her friend.

  “Okay. I’ll tell you my problems on one condition.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You tell me the stories behind all your tattoos.” I smirk and she does that throaty chuckle again.

  “You sure about that? That could take days. I have lots of ’em.”

  “Stories or tattoos?”

  “Both.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure. What’s that one on your shoulder?”

  “Oh, this ol’ thing? This is one of my favorites.” She pulls down the neck of her blouse and her bra strap so I can see better. It’s a bouquet of flowers. I recognize the violets, periwinkle, and lilies, but it’s the foreign words scrolling through the center in script lettering that captures my focus. It’s beautiful.

  “What does it say?”

  “Il dolce far niente.” The words roll off her tongue in a soft caress.

  “Is that Spanish?”

  “Italian. It means, it is sweet doing nothing. This was my first tattoo. I got it the summer I turned eighteen. My friend and I took our life’s savings and flew to Europe.” She chuckles that rough laughter. “You can imagine our parents weren’t too thrilled. We had been raised to grow up and find a spouse. Maybe spend a few years in college first, but then find a mate. Instead, Bets and I took off for an adventure. My parents tried to keep me from going. Insisted I was doing nothing with my life.”

  “So you got a tattoo about doing nothing?” I grin.

  “Yes. Though it was far from the truth. I ended up doing my fair share of Italian men that summer.” She waggles her almost translucent brow and I lean forward over the table. This woman is fascinating. Her fingers stroke the rim of her mug, and light bounces off the diamond on her left ring finger.

  “Did you marry one of those Italians?” Her eyes follow mine to her ring and she just grins.

  “My turn is up. Tell me about the captain.”

  I can’t help the way my face pulls into a smile just thinking about Chase. I take a gulp of coffee and try to put my feelings for him into words. “He’s the most attractive man I’ve ever dated. And I’ve always been a bit infatuated with his profession. But I didn’t pursue him. He asked me out, and, well, it’s only been a few weeks but I’m a goner. He really is the most perfect man.” I know I’m gushing and sound more like an infatuated teen than a grown ass woman but I can’t seem to stop. Kiki smiles warmly and then pats my arm before standing to move to the counter. She brings back the coffee pot and motions to my cup. I nod with a grin.

  “Beautiful men. They were always my downfall, too. And a man in uniform is difficult to resist. I’d warn you to be careful, but sounds as though you’ve already crashed and burned for this one.”

  “Is there any reason I should be careful with Chase?” I ask because something tells me if there is, this woman would know.

  “Oh, honey, there’s always a reason to be careful in love. Doesn’t mean the heart listens.” She smiles and I return it. I should excuse myself to leave now. It’d be polite after taking up so much of her morning, but I don’t want to take off just yet. I want to know more about Kiki—her tattoos, her stories, her life.

  “Will you tell me about another tattoo?”

  “If you have the time, dear. I’m sure you have other places to be than spending your day with an old woman.”

  “I have time.” At my answer her grin pulls into a smile that fills her entire face. Her eyes crinkle so much they almost close.

  “Well, how about this rose here . . .”

  I get so wrapped up in Kiki’s tales that it’s hours before I finally jog home. The afternoon sun beats down on my skin and the humid air makes it difficult to breathe, but there’s a lightness on my soul and even in my steps as I trot the familiar path home. I’m glad fate crossed my path with Kiki today. Rather than spending the entire day obsessing about Chase I gained a new friend, one whose wisdom and life adventures fascinate me beyond measure. I can tell she’s a little lonely, and who wouldn’t be, living in that house alone with no career and no family. But today I think I needed her company as much as she needed mine.

  I love sex.

  At least from what I can remember, I love it. It’s been a while. A hell of a long while. It’s almost embarrassing to admit the last occurrence was after a little too much eggnog at Alicia’s parents’ annual Christmas party. Not to mention, that interaction was severely lacking. I’m basically running on eight months of self-inflicted celibacy and pent up sexual appetite. But tonight that changes.

  A slight delay in the original plan, but that’s okay. Chase called to apologize profusely for canceling our date Saturday night, but I understood. His career is important. Then, as he anticipated, he was exhausted after three days straight at the station and decided to head home and crash. I would have loved to see him, but I know he needs his rest.

  The only downfall is that on top of working around his firefighting schedule, my company is piloting a new work week, four ten-hour shifts and three-day weekends. Supposedly it’s an attempt to boost employee morale, which I couldn’t care less about because I ended up working four fourteen-hour days and that meant no sexy Chase time.

  This weekend Chase works Friday and Saturday again but I refuse to wait until Sunday to see him. So even though I rushed home tonight to change and beautify myself all the while fighting exhaustion from a long week, I’m glad we’re not waiting one more day to see each other. Sure, I’m tired, but sleep can wait. I’m taking that boy to funky town.

  We’ve talked and texted all week and I know he’s aware of what’s on the table. I made it pretty clear apart from spelling it out. I only hope he doesn’t disappoint in the bedroom. I doubt he could, but my expectations are high. I’ve piled them up with every date, phone call, text, smile, laugh, and sweet word he’s said. That, and I’ve felt his very impressive erection during numerous make out sessions. High expectations for sure.

  The doorbell rings and I race to the door after a five second pit stop in the bathroom doorway to triple check my hair and makeup. Good enough. I step through the hallway and exhale deeply before unlocking the door to reveal Chase’s handsome face.

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  “Hi,” he says back.

  We stare at each other for about two breaths until Chase steps forward. His hands go to my hips and he backs us inside the house. The door bangs shut but I hardly notice because his lips cover mine with a demanding, unbridled pas
sion. He’s possessive, dominate, and scorching with his kisses.

  “Chase.” I moan his name between the graze of his lips. He hauls me into his arms and I straddle his waist, locking my feet behind him. He walks us to the wall, but must not be paying attention because my head hits the plastered surface with a bang, and the wooden edge of something digs into my scalp.

  “Fuck!” Ouch, that hurt.

  The portrait of me with my father at my high school graduation clatters to the hardwood floor and glass shatters everywhere.

  “Shit. I’m sorry, Callie.” Chase steps over the mess and walks us toward the living room.

  “It’s fine, I’ll just—”

  Chase kisses the words from my lips and I try to forget there’s clutter in my entryway. Honest to God I do, but when he starts kissing down my neck, sets me on the counter ledge, and his fingers go to the buttons of my blouse I have to stop him. I can’t make love to this gorgeous beast of a man when there’s glass all over my floor.

  “Wait—” I push him back from my body and hop down from the counter. He allows me space but his hands brace against the counter ledge and cage me in.

  “Callie?” Chase narrows his gaze and his lower lip juts out slightly. Is he pouting? “I’m sorry, Callie. I just thought . . . When you invited me over . . . I—have you changed your mind? Should I go?” He steps back and I grab his arm.

  “No!” I all but shout. Oh, God, why can’t I be normal? Why can’t I ignore the mess and get lost in Chase? I can’t, though. I crave order, and as much as I try I can’t focus on anything knowing a disaster of glass is scattered in the other room. I drop my head and cover my face. “This is so embarrassing.”

  “What, are you on your period or something?” I peek through my fingers and find Chase’s brow furrowed in confusion. Why is he so adorable?