The Simple Life

by Tara Sivec

  “I didn’t understand a word of that sentence,” I mutter. “Anyway, the girls are with one of many people right about now. The beauty of being out in public in a small town is that there are always built-in babysitters. Last time I saw them, Rita Clifton was taking them over to the chocolate fountain.”

  Brooklyn tightens her arms around my shoulders, bringing her body completely flush with mine from chest to thigh. One of her hands rests against the back of my head, and she starts lightly running her fingernails against my scalp, making a shiver run up my spine and my cock start to harden in my pants.

  “So, that means we only have a few precious seconds before Rita comes running over here with a chocolate-covered Mia, who tried to swim in the fountain,” she says softly.

  “It would probably be wrong to disappear behind a tree somewhere so I could rip those Cookie Monster underwear off your body and fuck you silly, right?” I ask.

  She trembles in my arms, and knowing I have that kind of effect on her makes it almost impossible not to drag her off this dance floor and do exactly what I suggested. It’s been twenty-four hours since the last time I was inside her. Twenty-four hours is entirely too long.

  “I’m really happy. You know that, right?” she suddenly asks, cocking her head to the side.

  “Me too,” I tell her, rubbing soft circles against her spine with one of my palms.

  We continue dancing to the slow beat of the music, just staring into each other’s eyes, everyone else around us completely disappearing.

  “The girls go back to school next week,” I remind her, the song ending and another slow one taking its place.

  Our school district never starts back until the end of September. There are so many farm kids around here, that the school gives them plenty of time to help out their families with the end of summer and beginning of fall crops.

  We still haven’t really talked about what the future holds. I think both of us just wanted to live in the moment, enjoy every minute we have together, and not ruin anything. But with the summer coming to an end, as well as Brooklyn’s “job” working for me, we can’t exactly ignore this anymore. I need to know where her head is at. I need to know if I’m enough for her. If staying here in White Timber has more to offer than the life she left behind in New York.

  “I can’t believe Mia’s going to be a full-time kindergartener. Her preschool teacher only had her a few days a week, for a few hours at a time. We should probably send Mrs. Knightly a fruit basket. Or a case of industrial earplugs. Or a coupon for free therapy,” Brooklyn jokes, referring to Mia’s kindergarten teacher.

  “Mrs. Knightly taught both of us for kindergarten. If she can survive that, she can survive anything,” I remind her.

  We continue dancing for a few more quiet seconds, and I finally bite the bullet and just fucking come right out with it.

  “Are you gonna go back to New York? It’s okay if you do. We’ll make it work. There’s planes, and Facetime, and now that I’ve cut back working so much at the farm, I can take time off and—”

  She cuts me off by placing her hand over my mouth, and I’m grateful for that. Each word I said to her was like a fucking knife to my heart. I wasn’t lying. I would do whatever it took to make it work, because I refuse to lose her, now that I finally have her. Long distance would fucking suck. Not having her here every day, not being able to see her, kiss her, touch her, laugh with her, listen to her insult me…. I don’t even want to think about it.

  “I love New York. It was my home for twelve years, and it was good to me for the most part. I got to experience the place I’d always dreamed about going to for a really long time. But I realized, the only thing that made me happy there was my job. I loved what I did. And I don’t have that anymore.” She shrugs.

  My heart thunders in my chest at the possibility that she just might stay here.

  We’re interrupted when Ember lightly taps on Brooklyn’s shoulder.

  I drop my arms from around her, and Brooklyn turns to face her, leaning her back against me as my hands rest on her hips.

  “Sorry to interrupt you two love birds, but Brooklyn’s phone has been ringing off the hook in her purse over at our table,” my sister states, holding Brooklyn’s phone out to her.

  Brooklyn thanks her, looking down at her phone. Her body suddenly jerks away from mine, and I see over her shoulder that she has a ton of missed calls from someone named Nicole, and someone else named Diane Clarkson. Her phone suddenly starts ringing again in her hand, Diane Clarkson’s name flashing across the screen.

  “I… I have to take this,” she mumbles, looking back over her shoulder at me as she starts to walk away. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

  Ember and I watch her quickly walk off the dance floor, twisting and turning her body to get through the crowds of people, pulling her phone up to her ear as she goes.

  “You look really happy,” Ember muses, as I look away from Brooklyn and down at her.

  “I am happy. I think she’s gonna stay.” I smile at her.

  “Of course she’s gonna stay. She’d miss me too much if she left,” my sister jokes. “But seriously, I’m happy you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses. Don’t fuck it up.”

  “Help! Sweet mother of God, help me!”

  We both turn to watch Rita rush toward us, holding onto Mia’s head and guiding her to us. Mia is, of course, covered in melted chocolate from her fingers all the way up to her shoulders, a big toothy grin on her face, also surrounded by chocolate.

  Ember and I laugh as Rita deposits Mia in front of us and then runs away without another word.

  “I love chocolate!” Mia shouts at the top of her lungs.

  “I can see that,” Ember states, pinching the one part of the shoulder of her dress that isn’t covered in chocolate with her fingers.

  She looks up at me as she starts to tug Mia toward the direction of the library, where they kept the doors unlocked all night for people to use the bathrooms.

  “Don’t worry; I got this one. But you owe me big time.”

  I mouth a thank-you to her as she takes my messy child away, warning her not to touch anything or anyone as they go.

  Sliding my hands into the front pockets of my slacks, I walk off the dance floor in search of Brooklyn. I find her walking back in this direction, staring down at the phone in her hand, not paying attention to where she’s going. I quickly pull my hands out of my pockets and grab her shoulders before she walks right into me, letting out a little chuckle.

  “Watch where you’re going there, fancy pants.”

  Her head jerks up when she hears my voice, and my smile falls when I see her flushed cheeks and shocked, wide eyes with a dazed expression on her face.

  “Hey, you okay? What happened?” I ask gently, pressing my palm to one of her cheeks.

  “That was my old boss on the phone, from Glitz. She… she offered me my job back. But not really my job. A different job. A better job. Jesus Christ… she wants me to be the Editor-in-Chief. She’s retiring, and she’s giving me her job. She wants me to run the whole fucking magazine,” she rambles, looking back down at her phone.

  My body instantly breaks out in a cold sweat as my hand slowly drops from her cheek. My stomach rolls with nausea, and I feel like I’m getting dizzy as I watch her continue to just stare at her phone in shock. I wonder if this is what a fucking panic attack feels like. I do my best not to show Brooklyn that I’m having a goddamn breakdown right now, because I know this is huge for her.

  “That’s amazing, baby,” I whisper. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “Can we go back to the farm?” she suddenly asks, looking back up at me. “I just… I just want to go home.”

  Hearing her call the farm home should make me happy, but there’s a cloud of doom hanging over me right now that prevents me from feeling anything but sick to my stomach.

  “Yeah. Yeah, we can go home. Let me just wrangle up the girls, and I’ll meet you out by the truck,” I
tell her, giving her a kiss on the head before I go, each footstep I take away from her feeling like a bad omen for the future.

  Except she’ll be the one walking away from me.

  Chapter 25

  Pros and Cons Life

  I’m numb. There’s no other way to describe it. I was so fucking happy being on that dance floor with Clint, finally talking to him about our future, thinking about the possibilities, and then I just had to answer that damn phone call.

  It’s everything I’ve always wanted, and more. Running Glitz, being in charge of every article that goes in there, it’s a dream come true. It’s what I’ve been working toward since the day I was hired. I don’t even have to ask myself why I’m not jumping up and down and screaming with excitement. Two months ago, I would have been. Two months ago, I wouldn’t have even hesitated to pack up my shit and get on the first plane back to New York.

  Now? Now, I’m torn. Going back would be the responsible thing to do. I can’t just continue living with my dad, taking care of the girls when they get home from school, and let love pay the bills. I stopped cashing the checks from Clint a few weeks ago for being his nanny, much to his annoyance. I stopped feeling like their nanny a while ago, and it wasn’t right to keep getting paid for something I actually enjoyed doing.

  My dad worked his fingers to the bone, taking every available chance for overtime just to make sure I never had to take out a student loan for college. I owe it all to him that I have a degree in journalism and never had to pay a penny to get it. It would be a slap in the face to him if I don’t seriously consider taking this job.

  Clint said we’d make it work if I went back, but I could see the fear and pain in his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hide it, and it killed me knowing I did that to him. I can’t just stay here and flounder, but how in the hell am I supposed to leave Clint? And the girls? And my dad? And Ember, and Katie, and Rita, and Shannon, and Mrs. Sherwood, and even Jack the Bathroom Pisser? How am I supposed to leave this town when I finally realized how amazing it is and no longer have the desire to run as far away from it as possible?

  “I want more chocolate,” Mia mumbles in her sleep, her cheek pressed against my shoulder as I carry her up the stairs.

  I smile to myself as I hug her warm little body tighter to me, climbing the last few steps right behind Clint, who guides a barely awake Grace with his arm around her shoulders down the hall.

  We separate when we get to the girls’ bedrooms that are across the hall from each other. I gently put Mia in her bed, thankful that Ember stripped her out of her chocolate-covered dress before we put her in the truck. There is no way in hell I’d wake a child who crashed from a sugar high thirty seconds after Clint pulled out of town, just to put her in pajamas. Tugging the covers up to her shoulders, I tuck them all around her body.

  “Snug as a bug in a rug,” I whisper as quietly as possible by her ear, the same thing I’ve said to her every time I’ve tucked her in, my throat clogging with emotion as I gently kiss the top of her head.

  How in the hell am I supposed to leave this?

  How in the hell can I possibly stay?

  Tiptoeing out of the room, I quietly pull the door closed, turning around to find Clint leaning against Grace’s closed bedroom door.

  After a few minutes of staring at each other in the dark hallway, he pushes off the door and comes over to me, lacing his fingers through mine and pulling me down the end of the hallway to his bedroom.

  He doesn’t bother turning on the light when we get inside; he just closes the door behind us and leads me over to the bed.

  The room is bathed in bright moonlight shining through the window on the other side of the room, and I keep my eyes on his when he reaches for the hem of my dress and wordlessly starts pulling it up my body. I lift my arms above my head so he can pull it all the way off, tossing it to the side as I take a step forward to start unbuttoning his shirt.

  Neither one of us says a word as we strip each other naked. His window is cracked, and the only sound that can be heard as he lays me down on the king-sized bed and crawls over my body is the chirping of crickets.

  He rests one of his elbows on the pillow next to my head, grabbing my thigh with his free hand and pulling my leg up around his waist as he settles between my thighs. My hands press to either side of his face, and I tilt my head up to press my lips to his, as he slowly enters my body. I whimper quietly into his mouth when the hard thickness of him fills me and stretches me in the best way.

  Tears prickle the backs of my eyes when he starts gently pushing in and out of me, and I deepen the kiss to try to push them away. For the first time since that day in the stables, there are no naughty words muttered between us, no quick and dirty fucking; there’s just the slow and steady rocking of our bodies against each other. It’s more powerful than anything I’ve ever felt before, and nothing can stop the tears from spilling out of my eyes and down my cheeks.

  How in the hell am I supposed to leave this?

  How in the hell can I possibly stay?

  Clint pulls his mouth away from me, resting his forehead against mine as he continues the slow, measured strokes in and out of my body. I squeeze my eyes closed, and whisper “I love you” to him over and over. I need him to know that no matter what happens after this night, that will never change.

  His hand slides up my thigh where he was holding it in place, moving it between our bodies. When the tips of his fingers start circling my clit as he slowly thrusts in and out of me, my hips jerk and I instantly push all the depressing thoughts from my mind. I concentrate on what he’s doing to me, how he makes me feel, how he knows my body like the back of his hand, and how he can pull a release out of me even when I think it’s impossible.

  Clint peppers kisses down the side of my cheek, kissing away my tears as his fingers swirl faster and he starts pumping into me harder. He gently nips and sucks the side of my neck as my hips jerk up to meet him, taking him deeper as he drives me wild with every swipe of his fingers over and around my clit.

  My orgasm quickly works its way up my body, fluttering through me and stealing the breath from my lungs as I arch my back, gasping from the pleasure. Clint’s face stays buried in the side of my neck, and I smack my hands down on his ass, helping him move his hips harder and faster between my legs. He quickly finds his own release, a muffled groan vibrating against my neck as he jerks and thrusts and pulses inside me.

  My arms wrap tightly around him, not ready to lose the heavy weight of his body on top of mine. His own arms slide under my body and he hugs me close, neither one of us making any move to roll away from each other to start dealing with whatever comes next.

  My eyes start to grow heavy and they flutter closed, the feel of Clint’s heart beating steadily against my chest.

  How in the hell am I supposed to leave this?

  How in the hell can I possibly stay?

  I have officially lost my mind.

  Telling Clint I needed to take a few days to think about everything was the worst possible decision I ever could have made. He told me he understood, and he’s been sending me texts to check up on me, but I know I hurt him. I know he wanted me to immediately tell him I was turning down the job because I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him. It was on the tip of my tongue when I got dressed the morning after the Rotary Club dinner and quietly left the farm before the girls woke up, but I couldn’t make the words come out. I was already freaked out that I’d fallen asleep in Clint’s bed and spent the night with him. Even though he constantly tried to tell me it would be fine, I always refused and went back home to my dad’s house no matter how late it was. I didn’t want to confuse the girls if they found me in there before we woke up. And now, all I did was confuse myself.

  It felt so good waking up in his arms, with his chest pressed against my back and our legs tangled together. It felt too good. Too comfortable. Too normal. I couldn’t possibly make the right decision by being around him, which is why I told him I
needed some time.

  God, I fucking miss him.

  And I miss the girls, even though they Facetimed me yesterday to show me all their new school supplies. Which just made everything worse. Clint took them shopping. Without me. That’s like, a capital offense, punishable with jail time. At least he only bought supplies and didn’t try to set foot in a clothing store. But he’ll have to, right? If I leave, he’ll have to take them clothes shopping, and that thought just makes my eyes cloud with tears. He’ll probably put Mia in a polka dot shirt and plaid pants. Or try to make Grace wear a dress, which will in turn make her kill him, and I don’t want him to die!

  Jesus Christ, get it together, Brooklyn!

  I angrily swipe the tears off my cheeks, staring down at the notebook in front of me that lists all the pros and cons of moving back to New York. I quickly scribble Clint will ruin the girls’ lives and die under the cons.

  I mean, he’s the one who’s done their school shopping every year before I came back, so I shouldn’t be freaking out about this. But goddammit, it hurts. The thought that I won’t be here for things like that kills me.

  Sure, Clint was right. There’s such a thing as planes, and I can easily hop on one and come back here, but not all the time. I’ll be able to come back for the big things, like birthdays and holidays, but not for everything. I’ll be running a fucking magazine. I can’t just be like, “Good luck with this month’s issue. Gotta head back to Montana to watch the girls get on the school bus, get a look at Mia’s first report card and sigh when the teacher writes a note on it that says she talks too much, and have a chat with the principal because Grace punched a boy in the face when he told her she threw like a girl. Oh, and I won’t be here for the budget meeting with the art department, because Mia lost a tooth and I need to play tooth fairy. Toodles!”

  I’ve never said “toodles” in my life, so I start to add Talking like a dumbass under the cons column, naturally, but my pen runs out of ink. I smack it down on the kitchen table and go in search of a new one. I know my dad keeps a box of pens in his top dresser drawer for all those late night crossword puzzles he likes to do, so I head into his room and fling open the drawer, moving a ton of old receipts, a box of change, and a few spare crossword books aside. I don’t find any pens, but I do find a large photo album buried at the bottom. Pulling it out, I flip open the front cover and gasp.