by Elise Noble
“So? What’s new?”
“It’s his birthday. Can’t you at least try to stay on his good side for a couple of days?”
“Pop only worries about appearances. As long as I stay out of his hair, he don’t care.”
“Won’t you just come home for the weekend? For me? I could do with some company.”
Mason sighed and stubbed out the cigarette he shouldn’t have been smoking.
“Since it’s you, Stef. Nobody else in that house gives a shit about me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is. Pop spends most of his time working or hanging out with his buddies. Mom’s happy as long as Pop’s happy, and everybody thinks they’ve got a perfect life. Screw reality.”
Much as I hated to admit it, Mason did have a point. That was my family in a nutshell. I sank down on the swing seat beside him.
“Maybe we could just have one more beer before we go back.”
“Now you’re talking.”
Mason and Reggie caught me up on the happenings in Hartscross, and I heard that Darly had bigger problems than me leaving the salon—her fiancé had run off with a podiatrist from the next town. At least that took some of the heat off me, gossip-wise. Then I glanced at my watch and found half an hour had flown by.
“We need to get back. I’m surprised Mom hasn’t called yet.”
Mason pulled out his phone. “Eight missed calls. It’s on silent.”
And I realised I’d forgotten to turn mine on again after I got off the airplane.
Even though we should have hurried, we ambled back through the streets, neither of us particularly wanting to get to our destination. Mason kicked at a stone on the sidewalk before sighing.
“You here for long, Stef?”
“A week. Why?”
“I’ve missed you being around. What’s the big city like?”
“Richmond’s got its good points and its bad points.”
“I think I’m gonna move there. The city, I mean. Maybe New York or Atlanta. Ain’t nothing to do around here, and I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life workin’ at the feed store.”
“Mom’s not gonna be happy about that.”
“It’s my life, not hers.”
Mom saw us through the window as we walked up the drive, and by the time we reached the front door, she’d opened it with a list of tasks already pouring from her mouth.
“What took you so long? Mason, you need to help your daddy edge the path. Pippi, I need a hand setting the tables.” She handed me a scrawled diagram. “That’s where everybody’s sitting. Write a name on each place card and stick those little silver flowers in the corner.”
I turned the paper around until I saw where I was sitting, and immediately wished I hadn’t.
“Mom, you’ve put me next to Randy Bose again.”
“Yes, he’s still single.”
“But I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”
She patted me on the hand. “Nonsense. Every young princess needs their prince.”
Princess? I nearly choked. “I sort of already have one.”
Okay, so Oliver still had a way to go, but he already held my heart in his hands.
“A man? What, in the city?”
“Yes.”
She stared at me. “Well, why didn’t you say something? You could have brought him with you for us all to meet.”
The thought of Oliver sitting down to dinner with Auntie Ethel and Uncle Chip made me snort, but I turned it into a cough.
“It’s not that type of relationship, Mom.”
“If a man doesn’t want to meet his girl’s family, then it’s not serious. You should give Randy some consideration. At least he’s making the effort to come.”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” I muttered.
“What was that, Pippi?”
“Never mind.”
The child in me wanted to run to the bus station and jump on the first bus back to Richmond. Or, in fact, anywhere. As well as the prospect of Randy to deal with, Uncle Clovis was slouched in an armchair, snoring loud enough to trigger an earthquake warning, and Mom had informed me I’d be helping her make crab mousse in the morning. I’d never loved seafood, and the thought of scooping out crab guts turned my stomach.
But the adult in me sat out on the porch swing with Mason for one last beer while the sun went down, then trailed up the stairs to my room.
I couldn’t resist checking my phone before I went to bed, just in case Oliver had sent me a message, but there was nothing. Not that I’d truly been expecting to hear from him.
Still, I couldn’t resist typing out a couple of lines myself.
Stef: I can’t believe you bought me a first-class ticket! You didn’t need to do that, but thank you. Hope work’s going okay. Can we get together next Friday?
So bland, when what I really wanted to say was I miss you like crazy and I’ll fall asleep dreaming of you. Xx. But Oliver would most likely run for California if I wrote that.
Instead, I closed my eyes in the darkness and slipped my hands into my panties, and then Oliver came and I did too.
A soft knock at the door woke me up, and I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. Eight thirty, and I bet Mom was freaking about the crab mousse. But at least she always brought me coffee, and boy did I need the caffeine this morning. Visions of Oliver had kept me awake for half the night.
“Come in.”
The door clicked open, and Randy sauntered through into my bedroom as if he had every right to be there.
“Randy? What the heck are you doing here? Get out!”
But the little toad didn’t. He closed the door behind him and sat on the bed instead. Arrogant. Smug. Both things I’d once accused Oliver of being, but now I knew there was a world of difference between the two men.
“Your mom told me to wake you.”
I gathered the comforter around myself like a shield. “I’m awake, so get the hell away.”
“I can see that.” Randy reached out and stroked one pudgy finger down my cheek, leaving a trail of slime in its wake. “But I wanted a little word.”
CHAPTER 37
“JUST GET OUT of my room!”
I tried to stay calm, but my voice rose to a screech and gave away my panic.
“Oh, Stefanie. You disappeared in such a hurry last time you were here, but I knew you’d be back. Lucky for you, I’m a patient man.”
Randy reached out again, and I smacked his hand away.
“Don’t touch me.”
He laughed. Well, it was more of a cackle. “You won’t be doing that tonight. Tonight, Stefanie, or tomorrow your whole family will know your sordid little secret.”
“I can’t. I won’t. I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“Sure you do. Yet you still came here alone.” He stood up. “Tonight.”
The second the door clicked behind him, I flew out of bed and locked it. Now what? I couldn’t tell my family Randy had threatened me without revealing my past, so that wasn’t an option. I leaned my head against the window, looking out over the backyard. Chester’s old Ford lay rusting beyond the twisted apple tree, same as it had for the past decade. Nothing ever changed in Hartscross. And it probably never would. It was me who’d changed, and this place didn’t feel like home anymore.
I turned to my suitcase and stuffed my clothes back inside, leaving a pair of jeans and a T-shirt out to wear. I needed to get out of there. Mom would be furious, but better that than hurt if she found out the truth.
Once I’d tugged a pair of socks on, I crept next door to Mason’s room, praying he hadn’t broken his lifetime habit of sleeping in later than me.
Luckily, he was still dead to the world.
“Mason?” I shook him gently.
“What? What time is it?”
“That doesn’t matter. Can you call Reggie? I need a ride to the bus station.”
I’d have to sneak out while Mom was distracted in the kitchen. She’d be upset when she realised I’d gone,
but not as upset as I’d be if Randy got his way.
Mason sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “You want to start at the beginning?”
“Not really. Please, could you just call him?”
“You’re leaving?”
“I have to.”
“Well, I can get him to drive you to the bus station, but it won’t help.”
“Why not?”
“You didn’t hear about the strike? The whole bus network’s in chaos.”
No, I didn’t hear. Since I’d flown, I hadn’t looked up the bus timetable or anything else. I rubbed my temples, trying to counteract my blossoming headache. How could I get home? And by home, I meant Richmond, because that was where I belonged now. My fragile finances wouldn’t run to another plane ticket, but maybe I could change the one I had?
“I need to make a phone call.”
“You still want me to ask Reggie?”
“Not yet, but I might need a ride to the airport later instead.”
Back in my room, I pulled the ticket out of the envelope Oliver had given me, but apart from the airline name and the flight times, there wasn’t anything useful on it. No phone number and no information on switching flights. In desperation, I picked up the phone anyway.
One ring, two. Please, let him answer.
“Steffie?”
“Oh, thank goodness.”
“What’s wrong?”
I so hadn’t thought this through.
“Uh, I need to get back to Richmond and the buses aren’t running. Can I exchange this plane ticket?”
“Why do you want to come back? You only just left.”
Why did Oliver have to ask so many questions? Damn him and his lawyerliness. Was that even a word?
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Steffie, you’re worrying me. Did something happen?”
I sniffled and snatched a tissue from the box on the nightstand. “Nothing important.”
“You’re crying and trying to flee the state. Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
The whole sorry story came tumbling out, from the first time Randy threatened me to his words this morning.
“So you told this asshole you’ve got a man, and he still thinks he can fuck you?”
“I won’t let him, I promise. But I need to get out of here. Help me, please? I promise I’ll never ask for another thing.”
Oliver’s voice softened. “Give me a couple of hours, princess, and I’ll sort it out. Just sit tight. Can you do that?”
“I have to get out of here.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then wait. I’ll fix everything.”
Sit tight, Oliver said. An hour came and went as Mason dragged his ass out of bed and helped with the crab mousse. Every so often, Randy would meander into the kitchen to help Mom with something and give me a sickening smile.
“Such a nice young man, isn’t he?” she said every time.
“He’s an asshole,” Mason muttered under his breath.
At least someone else in this house shared my opinion of him.
Another hour ticked by as I polished silverware, and Oliver still hadn’t called me back. I began to obsess over it, checking my phone every thirty seconds. When fifteen more minutes passed, I gave in and called him again, but all I got was his voicemail. I didn’t leave a message. What could I say without sounding even more pathetic than I did already?
Beside me, Mason dropped another fork onto the table. “I hate Mom’s parties. Who cares if the cutlery’s shiny?”
“Mom does.” I checked my watch again, then the phone. Nothing. “Mason, would you do me a favour?”
“Does it involve illegal substances? ’Cos I don’t know nothin’ about those, I swear.”
Oh, Mason. “Can you keep close to me this evening?”
“You’re staying now?”
“It looks that way.”
“Any particular reason?”
“I don’t want to be alone with Randy.”
Mason fisted a knife in his hand, and his eyes flashed. “Did he do something to you?”
“No.” Not yet, anyway. “He just creeps me out, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I’ll stick around. I can’t stand the guy either.”
Mom flitted into the dining room. “Pippi, I need you to be on door duty. Guests will be arriving soon, and I’m up to my arms in cake batter.”
“Sure, Mom.”
I conjured up a smile as I showed neighbour after neighbour into the lounge. Each time I opened the door, I got an, “About time you came back to help your mom again,” or an, “I thought you’d left town for good.” Between the snide comments disparaging life in the city and Randy circling in the background like an overweight vulture, I reminisced about Bradley’s jail party. Even handcuff Twister with no underwear would have been less awkward than this.
“Are there many more people left to come?” I asked Mom.
“I don’t think so. You can help serve food in a minute. Oh, there’s the doorbell again.”
What if I opened the door, let whoever it was in, and kept walking? Out of the driveway, out of town, out of Georgia. Honestly, what was stopping me?
“Afternoon, princess.”
What the actual hell? “Oliver? What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, hands stuffed in his pants pockets.
“Trying to talk myself out of killing some kid named Randy.”
“But…but… All I asked for was help with an airplane ticket.”
“I know, but I’m not letting that little fucker get away with threatening you.”
A tear popped out as I stepped forwards into his arms. He wrapped me up and kissed my hair, and for the first time in months, I began to think things might turn out all right.
Then I heard my mom’s voice behind me. “Pippi? Who’s this?”
“Uh, this is Oliver. He’s…”
Well, this was awkward. What did I introduce him as? A friend? A date? I could hardly explain he was the guy I fucked three times a week by arrangement, could I?
Oliver let me go and kissed Mom on both cheeks. Her blush said he had the same effect on her as he did on me.
“I’m Stefanie’s boyfriend. I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it, but my schedule cleared at the last minute.”
She beamed at him. “Oh, isn’t that just wonderful? We’ll have to set an extra place at the table.”
As we walked inside, Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Pippi?”
“It’s a childhood nickname. Pippi Longstocking, from the books.”
He rubbed the back of my thigh. “Long stockings? I like that idea.”
With Oliver’s arrival, Randy got bumped off to the third table in the kitchen. No doubt the devious asshole would be furious his plans had been thwarted, but I breathed a welcome sigh of relief. I was safe. With Mason on the other side of me, the only wandering hands I was in danger of feeling were Oliver’s, and I had no complaints about that. I inched my chair close so our thighs touched under the table, and every time he moved against me, the flames in my belly flared a little higher.
Mom beamed at him as she passed the vegetables. “So, Oliver, how long have you known Stef?”
“The best part of a year.”
“Stefanie! Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Uh, I…”
Chester cut in. “How old are you, boy?”
“Thirty-five.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit old for our Stef? What are you, some kind of sugar daddy?”
Mom elbowed him. “Don’t say things like that. Can’t you see the way he looks at her? It’s so romantic.”
“You need to think of the practicalities, Maxine.”
“Oliver’s not a sugar daddy, Chester. I have two jobs, and I earn my own money.”
That got Oliver a sharp look. “So you don’t look after her? Do you have a job?”
“I’m a partner in a law firm.”
&n
bsp; Chester nodded. “Oh, one of those. Outrageous fees, those lawyers charge, and for what? There’s nothing like a good, honest day’s hard work in the great outdoors.”
“He’s always like this,” I whispered to Oliver. “You won’t win.”
“I always win,” he whispered back, squeezing my hand before facing Chester again. “I hear you about the outdoors, sir. I grew up on a ranch in Colorado…”
Throughout dinner, Oliver surprised me with tales of his childhood and teenage years, how he’d learned to ride horses before he could walk and later how he’d put himself through college on his own dollar. I’d thought he’d be totally out of place with my family, but by the time dessert came, he’d won Chester over and Mom practically swooned at his feet. And me? I had even more respect for the man I’d fallen in love with. Randy, on the other hand, was stuck with Great Aunt Margaret in the kitchen. I could hear her educating him on the merits of different brands of denture fixative from here, which only made me smile wider.
“It’s so wonderful you’ve found each other.” Mom dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. “And you’ll be staying for lunch tomorrow as well, Oliver?”
“I guess I can find a local hotel.”
Mom chortled. “There’re no hotels in Hartscross, and the guest house is full of our relatives already. You’ll just have to bunk in with Stefanie.” She gave him a wink. “I’m sure you’re used to that.”
His hand tightened on my thigh under the table. “That’s very kind.”
Oliver was going to stay with me overnight? Suddenly, this weekend had turned from a nightmare into a sweet, sweet dream. The thought of him wrapped around me as I slept made my heart sing.
I longed to go to bed right away, but as usual, Mom had other plans for me.
“Pippi, can you and Oliver help to clear the table? Mason, the empty glasses need to be collected up and washed.”
If Oliver minded being put to work, he didn’t show it as he carried dirty dishes out to the kitchen. Uncle Mike got the task of washing up and looked far from thrilled. The guests moved into the lounge again as Chester brought out the whisky and birthday cake, and I was glad to be out of the spotlight. Randy was nowhere to be seen, and with any luck, Oliver and I could sneak off without anybody noticing.
“Could you take this trash out?” Mom asked.
