by Erin Wright
No, she shouldn’t be doing this at all. Which was probably why she was so thrilled by it.
He helped her into his diesel truck that looked old enough to have been the personal transportation for Noah before Noah had gotten around to building an ark, but once inside, she found that it was shockingly clean. No stray dog hair or dirt clumps or old soda bottles or crumpled receipts; it looked like it had just come off the showroom floor.
As he turned the key and then waited for the glow plugs to warm up, she said sincerely, “I’m really impressed by how clean you keep your truck. No wonder you make such a good janitor.” Maybe she was a dork to be impressed by something like this, but she couldn’t help herself. He was certainly better about keeping his vehicle clean than she was about hers. Usually, she had stacks of things everywhere – stacks to go into her house. Stacks to go into her classroom. Stacks to go to the office of the school. Stacks to go everywhere else in town.
And that wasn’t even counting the miscellaneous trash that always seemed to pile up while she wasn’t looking.
The warning light for the glow plugs turned off and he started the truck, the rumble of the diesel vibrating straight through her as he turned to look at her. “It’s normally a disaster zone,” he admitted cheerfully with a shrug of his shoulders. “But I thought I oughta clean it up for tonight’s date.”
Somehow, that was an even bigger compliment than the comment about her beauty. The fact that he would take the time; that this date was a big enough deal to him to do that…
She snuck in another pinch of her arm, wanting to make sure this wasn’t some glorious dream.
Ouch!
Nope, definitely not a dream.
“So, did you decide where ‘somewhere’ would be for our date?” she asked teasingly as they began to head in the general direction of Franklin. A part of her was sad that they weren’t making the drive to Boise – which lay in the opposite direction from Franklin – if only because then they wouldn’t be in a car together for hours on end. Unlike Boise, the drive to Franklin was a mere thirty minutes away.
She wanted this night to never, no never stop.
He took a right onto the highway, his headlights piercing through the gathering twilight to show the way. “You know Villano’s?” he asked rhetorically. “It’s Brooksy’s favorite place to go for dinner, and hell, their pizza is divine, even if the cook loses your order half the time.”
“They do?” she said, surprised. She’d not heard that before, but then again, she wasn’t normally the one that people made sure to tell every last piece of information to. She wasn’t exactly the gossip queen of Sawyer, that was for sure.
“Long story,” he said dryly. “Anyway, I thought it’d be fun, and hopefully since it’s not a Saturday afternoon, there won’t be piles of shrieking children climbin’ all over the jungle gym and ball pit.”
At that, her stomach sank and shrunk into a bundle of nerves, tumbling and twirling endlessly inside of her. Now she remembered Villano’s. She wasn’t someone to go out to eat very often – a teacher’s salary didn’t allow for many extravagances, and just the coffee and muffins she bought during the meetings of the Early Spinster’s Club from the Muffin Man was stretching it – but she’d gone there once, with her dad. Before he…
Well anyway, Elijah was right – it was a pizza parlor with a ball pit and a jungle gym. Sure, it was adorable that he chose restaurants based on where his daughter liked to eat, but this…this was a recipe for disaster. The chances were roughly 100% or so that she’d know at least one child in the place, if not half of them.
She’d wanted to slide in under the radar; she’d wanted to keep a low profile and not have anyone notice that she was breaking every rule in the teacher handbook, and then some extra ones just for funsies.
A pizza parlor with a ball pit? Not the way to make that happen.
She sank down in her seat, anxiety overwhelming her. This beautiful, amazing, once-in-a-lifetime date was turning into a disaster real quick. But the idea of being brave enough to tell Elijah no, to say that she wanted to do something else…what if he told her never mind, I don’t want to go on a date with you after all? What if he turned around and dropped her off at home and drove away?
She couldn’t bear the thought.
She sunk further down into her seat, wishing for anything to save her – anything in the world. Tornado, earthquake, the Yellowstone super volcano erupting…
And still, the miles ticked by with nature blissfully at peace.
Chapter 17
Elijah
They pulled up to Villano’s and Eli quickly jumped out and hurried around to Hannah’s side, wantin’ to help her out like a gentleman would. He might come from the wrong side of the tracks, but he didn’t want Hannah to know it.
Okay, so she already knew it – they both grew up in Sawyer, so hidin’ his background weren’t exactly an option – but maybe she didn’t remember. And if she did, maybe she weren’t thinkin’ about it tonight.
But as he held his hand up to her to help her out, she just sat stubbornly in her seat, shaking her head frantically, her dark red curls goin’ everywhere from the force of the shaking.
“I can’t go in there,” she whispered, the panic as clear as day in her voice. He stared at her, the fact that she was sittin’ in his truck making ‘em eye to eye for once.
The easier to kiss her…
He pushed the stray thought away.
“What’s wrong? Are you…are you one of those gluten-free people?” He couldn’t help the accusing tone in his voice. If she knew she was gluten free, why, she could’ve told him anywhere along the way. She’d said hardly a word since they left Sawyer; it weren’t like she didn’t have 30 minutes of opportunity to share this little tidbit with him.
She shook her head. “No, I’m good friends with gluten.”
Silence.
“But you’re not gonna go into the pizza parlor with me,” he said, stating the obvious, hoping she’d contradict him and jump out of the truck to trail after him.
Silence.
“I just…well, you see, I’m breaking about 25 school district rules by sitting here with you, and going on a date with you, and I was hoping that we’d go some place without kids, and without a lot of other adults, and then no one would know that I’m breaking the rules because I’m not a rule breaker except in this case but I was hoping not to get caught since I’m just breaking the rules this one time.” The tsunami of words finally stopped and she drew in a deep breath. “So, I can’t go inside with you. See?”
He thought that Brooksy could really talk a blue streak when she got on a roll, but that…Hannah had just put his daughter to shame.
He tried to think back through what’d just spilled out of her. Not a rule-breaker? Ain’t that what rules are there for – so you can break them? They’re not there so you can actually follow them, right?
He stared at her. She stared at him.
She looked positively freaked out.
What he oughta do was get back in the truck and drive Hannah home. She knew it; he knew it. Despite being from the same tiny town in the middle of Nowhere, Idaho, they had exactly nothing else in common. Why, she probably didn’t even like country music. Or beer. Or spendin’ time down at the shootin’ range.
“Which is your favorite country singer?” he demanded.
“Who is my favorite?” she repeated, staring at him as if he’d lost his mind. He stared back, not moving an inch. If she says Faith Hill, I’m driving her ass back home. She ain’t no real country singer. “Ummm…probably Alabama. I know they’re a little older but their stuff from the 90s…” She shrugged. “Their songs always have a story to them.”
He nodded begrudgingly. Alabama did put out some good stuff. “Fine. What kinda beer do ya drink?”
Her mouth dropped open as she stared at him. He could practically see the wheels turn in her head as she tried to figure out where the hell he was going with this line of questioni
ng.
“I prefer red wine,” she started out, and he exclaimed, “Aha!” in triumph.
“But if I’m given just beer to choose from,” she continued on as if he’d said nothing at all, “then I’d go with a Coors.”
“Coors Light?” he challenged her. Shit, that ain’t nothin’ but colored water, so it don’t really count as beer.
“No, Coors,” she corrected him politely. “If I’m going to drink beer, then I want to drink the real stuff.”
Huh.
Now he was back to staring at her.
She’d passed his tests, and had done it calmly while he’d been doin’ nothin’ but actin’ like a jackass to her. There she was with her dark red hair and her pretty blue eyes and wearin’ lipstick and wearin’ a skirt that fit real nice, and all he could do was be a dick.
He felt awful.
And then inspiration struck.
“I got it!” he said, and headed back around to his side of the truck. He couldn’t afford to take her to some fancy restaurant – Villano’s was gonna be a stretch on his budget – but he could always cook a meal for her at home. He weren’t what he’d consider to be a chef or nothin’, but he knew a few dishes real good.
“Where are we going?” Hannah asked as he backed out into the street, clearly worried that he was just gonna pick another child-filled restaurant for them to eat at.
He shot her a grin. “Home. I promise you, there ain’t no children there, and the only parent you’ll find is me. I don’t normally see much reason to get fancy for just Brooksy and me, but I know a coupla dishes that you might enjoy. I bagged a deer this fall, so I have plenty of deer meat I can cook up.” He looked at her challengingly. “Unless you got somethin’ against eatin’ Bambi.”
She swallowed hard, her face going a little pale at the question. “I can’t say that I consciously try to think that I’m eating Bambi,” she allowed, “but I don’t have a problem with eating deer in general. In fact, I think that killing your own animals and eating them makes you more in tune with it all.” She waved her hand around the cab of the truck. “If the only meat you ever eat comes from the grocery store in a styrofoam container wrapped up in plastic, you just might start to forget that there was ever an animal involved in the process.”
He had a hard time seeing her face in the dim lighting of the cab, the sun having long ago set, but still he squinted through the darkness at her, trying to spot if she were serious. She looked like she were, which went a long way in making him feel better.
“That’s how I’ve always looked at it, too,” he said softly, a little surprised that their views were similar. He hadn’t thought he’d have much in common with Hannah – he’d asked her out ‘cause she was cute and like Aaron had said, he needed to just get her outta his system. He hadn’t expected to actually like her.
“So tell me about your family,” Hannah said encouragingly. “I know Aaron, of course, since we graduated the same year, but somehow, I don’t remember ever meeting your parents.”
He gripped the steering wheel hard, wishin’ for the miles to go by faster. Was it really another 25 minutes before they made it back to Sawyer? He’d be hard-pressed to pretend deafness for the entire drive.
He sighed.
“My parents are…interesting,” he finally settled on saying. “They ain’t your typical parents, really.” He shut up then, hoping she’d take the hint and leave the topic the hell alone.
But Hannah was a girl, and that meant that along with all of her fun curves came the inability to leave shit alone.
“‘Not typical’?” she repeated. “In what way?”
“In the ‘we should love our children but don’t’ way,” he said harshly, and then instantly regretted it. It weren’t Hannah’s fault that his parents were so screwed up. But the reason why they didn’t love him…well, it would probably be the reason why Hannah wouldn’t neither. It was time to lay his cards all out on the table and scare her the hell off.
It were only right.
“I knocked up my girlfriend the summer after high school graduation,” he said baldly. He snuck a look at her out of the corner of his eye, and found that she was just lookin’ at him steadily, waitin’ for him to continue.
Not what he were expecting, but it gave him enough courage to keep going. Tell her the truth that most people had guessed at but he ain’t never confirmed with ‘em.
“Sarah didn’t tell me that she’d stopped taking her birth control pills. She’d wanted to get married, and I’d told her that we was too young. I was gonna go to college and make something of myself. She thought that since we was out of high school, then we was adults, and so we was old enough to get married. She doesn’t…” He blew out a breath. “She don’t take no for an answer. Like, ever. I should’ve realized something was wrong when she stopped bringing up marriage every other sentence. Just a couple of months later, she was preggers with Brooksy.”
He paused, wantin’ to change topics and talk about something else – anything else – but somehow, he already knew Hannah well enough to know that she’d circle back to this topic at some point. She was more subtle than Sarah, that was for damn sure, but there were a streak of stubbornness in her a mile wide.
“What does this have to do with your parents?” Hannah asked softly when his pause had apparently gone on too long.
They were nearing the lights of Sawyer, and Elijah was already breathing a little easier. Soon, they’d be at his place and he could find somethin’ different to talk about. Them making dinner together. How Brooksy was doing in school. The position of Jupiter.
Anything at all except for this.
“I weren’t never the favorite child,” he finally said. “Aaron had his shit together. Still does. Bein’ the golden child and all, he graduated from high school and went straight to college for six years to get his degree in Criminology. He’d known since he was little that he wanted to be a cop when he grew up, and that he was gonna be the police chief someday. He’s still working on that last part, of course.” Elijah chuckled at that, and then continued, “I’d always wanted to be…well, never mind. So there was Aaron at college, gettin’ good grades, workin’ a part-time job to make it through without racking up lots of debt, and meanwhile, I’m struggling to keep my head above water in high school. You oughta know – I’m the dumb one in the family. My dad says that I were dropped on my head lots as a kid, and now it shows.”
He laughed humorlessly.
Hannah didn’t.
She weren’t moving or speaking at all, just watching him in the darkness and listening to him talk. He’d think that she’d fallen asleep on him, except he could see the light catch her eyes every once in a while and he knew she were still lookin’ at him.
He pulled up in front of his ramshackle house and cut the engine. The rumble of the diesel died away, leaving just the two of them in the darkness.
He realized with a start that it was easier to talk to her when he couldn’t see her face, so he plunged on, wanting to get the story over and done with, never to be mentioned again.
“My parents told me that if I were old enough to knock a girl up, then I were old enough to take care of her. They frog-marched me down to the courthouse and I got married to Sarah lickety-split, almost before I knew what was goin’ on. After that, they cut all support. Life was hard? Couldn’t pay my bills? Well, it’s what I deserved for getting a girl in the family way. They’re real religious, and the idea that their son was having sex before he was married…they was pissed, all right.
“Sarah, on the other hand, was happy as a clam since she got what she wanted, but soon, that wore off. She’d wanted to get married and play house; she hadn’t wanted to actually be married. You know, the hard stuff. After Brooksy was born, there was late-night feedings and stinky diapers – none of it was how she’d thought it’d be. I don’t know what she thought, but whatever it was, she sure was wrong. We was both kids and didn’t have a damn clue of what we was doin’.
“As for Brooksy…my parents don’t like her none. Oh, they pretend – they send a five-dollar bill on her birthday and another one at Christmas, and they sign the cards ‘Love, the Morlands,’ like they was the neighbors or somethin’, instead of her grandparents. Aaron ain’t had any kids, so this is their only grandchild. I think they have a closer relationship to the kids at the church they go to on Sunday. Since I weren’t married to Sarah when I knocked her up, Brooksy ain’t good enough for my parents. They’re waiting for Aaron the Perfect to get married so they can love on his kids.”
He trailed off then, nothin’ else to say.
They was sitting in his truck, staring straight ahead at the garage door, neither of them speaking, the croak of frogs the only sound breaking the silence. He didn’t want to look at Hannah and see the judgment in her eyes. It was a small town, so she’d probably already guessed that Brooksy was a bastard child – at least before he married Sarah – but maybe she’d forgotten.
Well, she remembered now.
Stupid Elijah, telling her all that. Stupid, stupid. Shoulda kept quiet. She’s never gonna wanna date me now—
“Your parents are idiots,” she said firmly, as if it’d been up to her to judge their abilities as parents, and she’d made the final decision on the topic. “Brooklyn is one of my most endearing, smart, loving, and precocious children in my class. If your parents are too close-minded to take the time to know her, then they don’t deserve her.”
Precocious. He turned the word around and around in his mind, trying to figure out what in the hell it meant. He vowed to himself to look it up after Hannah went home. He’d already told her that he was the stupid one; he didn’t need to prove it to her.
“I’m sorry to hear all of that,” she said softly, laying a hand on his arm. Warm tingles shot through him at her touch and he finally turned to look at her. Her red hair looked black in the darkness, and almost without thought, he reached out to run his fingers through it. It was as soft as it looked, and at his touch, she turned her face into his hand and nuzzled his palm.
