Seven

by Susan Renee

“No, no! Yeah, I do. I’m sorry. I…haven’t been on…a…umm…”

  “A date?” he asks. I’m grateful that he’s saying it so I don’t have to. Why does this make me so nervous all of a sudden? I wasn’t like this a week ago.

  Maybe because I actually care?

  “Yeah, a date. I haven’t done this in a while, Bryant. I’m just being stupid. I’m sorry.” I shake out my hands quickly to try to brush off the nerves. “Just make me talk so I don’t sit here wondering what to say or what not to say.”

  Bryant tries not to smile or laugh at me but I notice his small chuckles and see his cheeks rise under his sunglasses. “Okay, umm…well, tell me something I don’t know about you.”

  “Dude, that could be a lot of things. You don’t know much about me at all…but then again, it sort of feels like you know everything.” I answer quietly.

  “I know you like to lay on the couch and watch silly television shows about girls trying on wedding dresses, and I know you like oatmeal.”

  I shake my head in partial embarrassment over his reference to Say Yes to the Dress. I suppose it could’ve been worse. I could’ve been watching old reruns of Full House.

  Have mercy.

  “I know that your bathroom is blue and white, which I liked very much by the way…not too girly, but not too plain. You can tell a lot about people by looking at their bathrooms.”

  “Yeah? So you were snooping through my bathroom? Hope you got a good look at my hairbrushes and tampons.”

  Bryant lets out a loud laugh. “Tampons? No, but I did assume that you’re not someone who takes forever to get ready for something…you don’t have enough products on your counter to justify the time.”

  Wow. Perceptive.

  “Ten points for you, Bryant. You would be correct with that assessment.”

  “Want to know one other thing I know about you?” he proudly asks.

  “You don’t have to say it.”

  My husband is dead.

  My daughter is dead.

  I’m alone.

  “You’re cute when you sleep.”

  “WHAT? What the fuck? You watched me sleep?” I shout. “Oh my God, are you a creeper or what? How long did you watch me?”

  “Only for a few minutes, Savannah. You were so peaceful.”

  “Oh shit, did I snore?” I ask. “Because if I did, it has to be because I was sick, you know.”

  Ugh, how embarrassing.

  Laughing at my outburst he replies, “Relax okay? I watched you sleeping hard enough to know you deserved to sleep in your bed for the night and not on a couch. That’s when I carried you back to your room, remember?”

  “Oh…yeah.” I breathe. “I remember now.”

  I felt comfortable in his arms.

  “Anyway, you’re beautiful when you’re awake and every bit as beautiful when you’re asleep too.

  “Oh, God! That can’t be true.” I scoff lightly. “I probably looked like Medusa on steroids or something.”

  “Nah, nothing like that. You look…peaceful. Content. Beautiful…” He trails off.

  I look down for a moment sliding part of my hair behind my ear so it’s out of my face. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “You’re welcome. Now answer my question and tell me something I don’t know.”

  Without thinking I just blurt out, “Ranch flavored Doritos are my favorite. I can’t ever eat just one. Your turn.”

  Bryant nods in appreciation of my answer, however random it was. We’ll see if two can play at this game.

  “I don’t like the sound of Saran Wrap when it crinkles together,” he says with a disgusted look that makes me laugh.

  Yes, two can play at this game!

  I almost bust a gut laughing. “What? Does that even make sense? Is that a thing? That’s not a thing.”

  He looks at me playfully insulted by my words. “It is most definitely a thing. You know how when it sticks together and you try to pull it apart it makes that gross sticky sound? Or what it feels like when you’re wearing it and it sticks to itself…ugh, no.”

  I can’t stop laughing! “Bryant Wood, when have you ever worn plastic wrap in your life?”

  “Quit your giggling. They wrapped my arm and shoulder in it when I got my tattoo, just to keep the bandage on. It was the most disgusting feeling ever and when it would rub together…” he pretends to shiver in disgust. “Ew. No. Never again. I hate the stuff. Your turn.”

  I take a deep breath to compose myself and try to think of something interesting about me. “Okay, okay, I used to spit my lima beans into my milk and then pour them down the drain after dinner. I hate beans. All beans. The texture of them is disgrossting.”

  Bryant cocks his head to the side. “Did you just say disgrossting?”

  “Yeah…disgusting and gross…disgrossting.”

  “Disgrossting…” he lets the word roll off his tongue and then nods. “I like it. You know what else is disgrossting?”

  He’s using my words.

  This is fun.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Mustard.”

  “Mustard? Why the heck don’t you like mustard? Isn’t mustard like…one of the American staples of all condiments?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe it is, but when your mom puts mustard on your grilled cheese sandwiches as a kid, and refuses to make you one without mustard simply because you don’t like mustard, which let me remind you would be one less step for her in making dinner…I just couldn’t ever learn to like the yellow smelly goop. It kinda looks like baby poop on bread anyway…disgrossting.”

  This conversation makes me smile. I don’t know why I was so worried about talking to Bryant. Words just flow easily from both of us. It’s comfortable in that get-to-know-you sort of way. “Okay…mustard is disgrossting. I’ll give that to ya, but it’s still your turn since you just piggy-backed on my turn.”

  “Alright…I’ve got a good one…but no judging.”

  Already I get a case of the giggles. I wonder what this could be. “Okay,” I say holding my hands up in defeat. “I promise. No judging.”

  Bryant takes a moment to look in the rearview mirror and changes lanes again so that we can make the exit onto 55-S. “I can pee and brush my teeth in the shower at the same time while washing my hair with my non-tooth-brushing hand.”

  Okay, I can’t. Oh my God, I need to laugh so hard that my eyes are watering as I bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.

  “Hey!” Bryant yells at me laughing. He points to me as if he’s trying to parent me. He’s totally trying to adult me right now. “Don’t think I don’t see you trying not to laugh. You said you wouldn’t judge.”

  In the best effort to not laugh out loud I quickly pretend to cough and wipe my nose with my hand. “I’m not laughing, I swear. I just…have…something in my eye.”

  “Uh huh…I’ve heard that one before, Seven. You wouldn’t believe how much time it saves me though when I need to shower and Ivy is awake by herself. I try to wake up before her but when the sky’s awake, she’s awake.”

  “Ah, so she’s a Frozen fan is she? Who does she like better, Anna or Elsa?”

  Bryant rolls his eyes but smiles which tells me he’s not really that annoyed by Ivy’s obsession with Frozen. “Elsa and Sven if I had to pick one other character. You know, she asked me this morning if you liked princesses and if you liked Elsa.”

  What?

  “You told her about me?” I gasp.

  “Yeah. Well…yeah I guess. I mean, she asked where I was going today and I told her I was hanging out with my friend, Savannah.”

  “Oh. Right. Yeah. Okay.”

  “Anyway,” he continues. “One of these days she’ll want to tell you all about her love of princesses. It’s your turn, Seven.”

  My mind drifts to another place – another time, when I would dream of my little girl playing dress-up and being her daddy’s princess. Every now and then I think I can handle talking about someone else’s kid or even knowing that another
friend of mine has kids, but right here, right now, but I can’t. I’m stuck here in this truck with a man who doesn’t understand yet that sometimes talking about children can be a trigger for me. I’m not ready to tell him though, so instead, I look out my window and say the words before I even realize I’ve said them.

  “I hate the number seven and sometimes I wish I could live someone else’s life…even just for one day.”

  Silence.

  More silence.

  One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand…

  “I’m sorry Sev…Savannah. I…I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anyth…”

  “No, no. It’s okay. You didn’t,” I interrupt. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No. You said it because you mean it. There’s no fault in that. So tell me whose life you would want to live for even just a day? If it could be anybody…who would it be? Jennifer Lopez? Carrie Underwood? One of those Kardashian girls?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Some days I wish I could just wake up and have a completely different life, you know? Like a restart.”

  “Yeah…I understand. Life likes to throw tons of shit our way and it would be nice to step out of it for just a while. I wished that for Ivy so many times, and I would be lying if I said I never wished it for myself.”

  “Yeah…I know that feeling,” I whisper. “I read this book once, called What If by Rebecca Donovan. It’s a story about having a second chance to meet someone for the first time.”

  “Yeah…go on…” Bryant says.

  “Well, so this girl goes missing in high school and this guy sees her over a year later in his college town and is convinced it’s this missing girl, only she doesn’t recognize him at all.”

  “Sounds eerily familiar in a way,” Bryant says winking at me.

  “Yeah?” I ask. “How so?”

  “Well…you didn’t recognize me when you saw me in the bar that night, so I guess that sort of gave us a second chance at meeting each other for the first time.”

  “Yeah, I guess, but I never went missing. And I certainly don’t come with a satchel full of secrets. At least it feels to me like I’m a walking open book for the world to read at their leisure.”

  “Hmm…” he murmurs. “So what happens in the end?”

  I shake my head. “Can’t tell ya that.”

  “What? Why? You just told me what it’s about and now you can’t tell me how it ends?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because that would be a huge spoiler. If you want to know how the story ends, you should read it for yourself and find out.”

  “Ugh, you women and your books! I don’t even know the last time I picked up a book and just read.”

  “Well maybe now you should consider it.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” He smiles. We’re quiet for a few minutes, both lost in our own thoughts. I jump slightly when I feel Bryant’s hand on my left leg. He squeezes just enough to get my attention.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m glad I got the second chance to meet you. I enjoy hanging out with you, and I’ve really liked getting to know you all over again.”

  That was sweet of him to say.

  Warm and fuzzy.

  “Thanks, Bryant. For what it’s worth, I’m enjoying hanging out with you too. Sorry for being the Debbie Downer for a minute.”

  “Hey,” he says placing his hand over mine. I can feel him rubbing his thumb over the top of my knuckles. “You don’t ever, EVER, need to apologize to me. I understand, and when I don’t, I’ll try really hard to so that you don’t have to feel anything but happy. You deserve that. I just want to show you a nice day outdoors in the beautiful weather.”

  I watch him from my side of the truck. If the Bryant of years past were sitting here beside me I’m pretty sure his hands would be trying to get in between my thighs right about now; he would have a ball cap on backwards and would be trying to impress me with his big bad truck. His face would be insincere and his body would be so aloof because he used to never give a damn about anyone but himself, or so it seemed to those of us on the outside. The Bryant I see today is different. He’s older, wiser, a little more weathered in the face. I can tell life hasn’t been parties and shots of whiskey all these years for him, and even though it’s unfair of me to say so, I like that about him. At least he has even a little bit of something I can relate to.

  “Bryant?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I never take the last bite of my food, no matter what it is. It’s just a thing with me I guess.”

  “Never?”

  “Nope. Never.”

  He watches the road for a minute, nodding his head, taking in my words. He smirks before looking over at me. “Well it’s a damn good thing I like to eat. I’ll always take your last bite for you, okay?”

  “Okay.” I nod and smile as I rest my head on the back of my seat. I’m still somewhat facing Bryant so for a moment I just watch him drive. He’s really done an outstanding job making me feel comfortable when I’m with him, I’ll give him that. I’m excited to see where we’re going today. I don’t have to wait long as I see us head west toward the big sign that says GREEN RIVER LAKE.

  “For real?” I exclaim. “Green River? I’ve heard great things about this park but I’ve never been here before!”

  “Well, good! I used to come down here with my family in the summer time, do some fishin’, hikin’, that kind of thing. I thought it would be nice to just be out in the sun, maybe walk one of the trails or something? And I packed us a picnic lunch if that’s okay?”

  How perfect.

  He really planned this out.

  Just for me.

  “Yeah, Bryant. That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”

  We park the truck and he comes around to open my door. He first takes my hand to help me out but then moves his hands to my waist to help steady me as I jump down from my seat. I’m not five years old and can certainly make the jump on my own but I let him hold me anyway. I don’t want to spoil these moments of our date. Immediate sparks of warmth shoot through my body when he touches me. I didn’t expect that feeling at all and wobble just slightly when my feet hit the ground.

  Because my mind is somewhere in the clouds.

  “Thanks.”

  Bryant takes my hand and leads me towards the lake. “Come on, let’s see what we can get into.”

  Chapter 15

  Bryant

  Damn she feels good. Her hand in mine as we make our way across the parking lot feels natural, like we’ve been doin’ it for years. What doesn’t feel natural is the feeling that someone just jumped into a ball pit inside my stomach. Damn if I’m not nervous. Bryant Wood doesn’t get nervous. What the hell is making me feel this way all of a sudden? I can’t remember a more enjoyable car ride with a woman. Savannah makes conversation so easy. It’s been years and although I had my eye on her in our high school years, we definitely didn’t talk often so there’s so much I have yet to learn about her. Walking the trails here at the park, in the fresh air where she won’t feel trapped, is the best place I could think to bring her. There’s nothing like the natural beauty of the outdoors.

  And nothin’ like the natural beauty of the girl whose hand is in mine.

  We start out along one of the easier hiking trails, making small talk and taking a minute every now and again to marvel at the beautiful environment surrounding us. Leaves are growing back on the trees, and the robins are obviously having a family reunion somewhere close by.

  “Do you know these trails well?” Savannah asks me.

  “Uh, not like the back of my hand but I’ve been up and down this one several times as a kid. It’s one of the easier trails and not too long. I didn’t want us to have to work too hard, hope that’s okay.”

  I watch as her eyebrows raise and she shakes her head. “Yeah, absolutely. Besides, trying to remember all the new things I learned about you in the car will be hard enough.”

  I feel the s
light squeeze of her hand that lets me know she’s teasing me.

  She squeezed my hand.

  That means something right?

  Why do I feel like a fucking teenager?

  Damn this girl.

  “I don’t know, but I have a strange feeling you’re going to remember every damn thing I told you about myself.”

  She doesn’t answer me, but when I look at her she’s blushing and hiding behind her smirk.

  “So why the bar? Have you always wanted to do something like that? Own your own business I mean?”

  “You wouldn’t think so. Since my last name is Wood it was preached to me for years and years that I would take over my dad’s distillery one day. I mean, when in Bardstown, drink the bourbon, right?”

  “That’s not what you wanted? Not that I would blame you, but I don’t remember you as the rebel child.”

  Not with a grandfather on the school board.

  “Nah, I was a pretty good kid. Did what I was told. Studied in school, was good at sports. That kind of thing. I just spent too many years playing around the distillery ya know? I didn’t want to spend my life doing the same damn thing, not that I don’t have tons of respect for what my dad does. I do, it’s just…”

  “I get it. There’s a whole world out there so why not take a risk, right?”

  “Yeah. I mean, that’s what I wanted. I never thought it would be a bar though. I used to spend my evenings at that bar before Jerry retired. That’s where I met Samantha, Ivy’s mother.”

  Savannah’s head whips up quickly as if she’s shocked by that news but nods in understanding. “Right. Yeah. I forgot you said you met her at a bar.”

  “Yeah. Well…I already told you what happened after meeting her. When she told me she was pregnant I really wanted to step up and try to do the right thing. I was already a disappointment to my family at that point for knocking up some girl I barely knew so you know, why not take the plunge and leave the family business too.”

  Savannah stops walking. I feel the slight tug on my arm from her hand still in mine. She’s looking at me with disbelief in her eyes.

  Or is that pity?

  “You okay?” I ask her.

  “Yeah. I didn’t know your family saw you that way. Do they still? I mean, it looks like you’ve been pretty successful and all. I would think your family would be proud of you.”