Straight from the Heart

by Layce Gardner

“Whoops,” Mabel said. “My bad.” She giggled.

  Bernie rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Remind me to wear a helmet the next time there’s champagne.”

  “My god! Are you all right?” Millie asked.

  Bernie chuckled. “It’ll take more than that to bring me down.”

  “Apologize,” Clara demanded of Mabel.

  “Sorry about that, ol’ gal,” Mabel said to Bernie. “Let me try again,” she said, plucking another bottle out of the crate.

  “No!” Parker and Clara said simultaneously. Parker grabbed the bottle out of Mabel’s hands.

  “Buzzkills,” Mabel said. “Party poopers.”

  “Who wants champagne?” Steph asked, lifting a bottle in the air.

  Everyone raised their hands.

  ***

  It was almost midnight by the time Parker pulled her van into the driveway. Amy was passed out drunk, sitting in the passenger seat. She leaned heavily against the door, her face smooshed into the window. She was leaving slobber streaks on the glass just like Rascal did on the sliding doors.

  “Okay, birthday girl. We’re home,” Parker said, turning off the engine.

  Amy snored in response.

  Parker walked around the van and opened the passenger door. Amy fell out of the van. Thankfully, Parker was sober and had quick reflexes. She caught Amy before she splattered on the ground.

  Rascal jumped out of the van and began to explore the perimeter of the yard, marking every bush and tree.

  Amy opened her eyes and was surprised to find herself in Parker’s arms.

  “Hi there, gorgeous,” Amy slurred.

  “Hi there, yourself,” Parker said.

  “I think I’m drunk,” Amy said.

  “Ya think?”

  Amy nodded her head vigorously. “A wittle bit.”

  “Just a wittle bit dwunk?”

  Amy nodded again. Then winced. “Champagne and nodding don’t mix.”

  Parker kicked the van’s door shut behind her, and carried Amy to the front door of their house.

  “Are you going to take advantage of me?” Amy asked dreamily.

  “No.”

  “Oooooh… why not?” Amy said with a lopsided grin.

  Parker laughed. “I am going to get you inside the house. Give you two aspirin with a big glass of water and put you to bed.”

  “Are you going to carry me across the threshold?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Just like we’re married.”

  Parker stopped before the front door. She put Amy down on her own two feet, and leaned her back against the front door so she wouldn’t topple over.

  “What’re you doing?” Amy asked.

  Parker dropped to one knee in front of Amy.

  “Did you drop something?” Amy asked.

  Parker looked up at Amy. Her eyes were moist.

  “Uh oh,” Amy said. “Are you…?”

  Parker nodded. “I am. I’m proposing.”

  “Right now?”

  Parker took Amy’s hand in her own and asked, “Amy Warner, love of my life, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  There was a long pause. Long enough that Parker became worried. “Did I do it wrong?”

  Amy shook her head. “No. You did it right. You did everything right.” She pulled Parker to her feet, saying, “I can’t accept your proposal.”

  “You don’t want to marry me?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said I can’t accept. Not right now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m drunk. I’m afraid I may not remember this in the morning. Or I will and then your whole life you’ll be wondering if I said yes just because I’m drunk. And this isn’t the story I want to tell my children and grandchildren. Does that make sense?”

  Parker stood. She stared at her toes for a moment. “Does that mean you want me to propose some other time?”

  “Yes. I want you to propose. Just not now. Not tonight.”

  “Okay,” Parker said. “Can I kiss you?”

  “Please.”

  They melted into a kiss.

  Rascal jumped up on his hind legs and tried to get in on the action by nosing between them.

  “Somebody’s jealous,” Parker said with a laugh. She quickly unlocked the front door and Rascal ran inside the house.

  Chapter Ten

  At the newspaper office, Amy, Jeb, and Luke played Nerf basketball. They didn’t bother with rules. They took turns shooting and didn’t keep score. The only hard and fast rule was that they had to remain sitting in their office chairs. They could roll across the floor, even spin, as long as they stayed seated.

  “I hate slow news days,” Jeb said. “I never thought I’d say this, but I wish Trump would tweet something stupid so we could write about it.”

  “I have an idea,” Luke said. “How about I do food reviews of all the local restaurants?” He shot and missed.

  “How much money do you have?” Jeb asked.

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Because you’d be paying for the food that you’re writing about,” Jeb said. “I insist you pay,” he added. He shot and sank it. “Nothin’ but net!”

  Luke rebounded and tossed the ball to Amy. “It was just a thought.”

  “And not a good one, unless you want half the restaurants in town to hate you,” Jeb said.

  “It’s investigative reporting. I’d have to be objective,” Luke said.

  “People don’t want objective. They have definite ideas about the food they like and they patronize whichever restaurant has it. If you give a good review, those owners will like you. A bad review and owners will hate you. It’s a small town.”

  Amy shot and missed. She rebounded her own ball and shot again. The ball spun around the rim and finally dropped out into Jeb’s hands.

  Luke held his hand up. “I get it. Be a reporter, not a critic.”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up,” Jeb said. “Critics don’t have many friends. And food critics always eat alone.” He shot and missed.

  Amy rebounded the ball. But instead of shooting, she tucked the ball under her arm. “Hey, I know,” Amy said. “Let’s do an article on pets.”

  “What kind of article?” Jeb asked.

  “How about freaky pets?” Amy answered.

  “Freaky like how? I refuse to run anything about alien cats,” Jeb said.

  “No, I’m talking about Mr. Walker’s farm,” Amy said. “He has all those different animals. I bet he’d like the publicity, too.”

  “And I’ll take the photos!” Luke exclaimed. He opened his desk drawer and excitedly pulled out his camera.

  Amy smiled. It was good to see Luke passionate about something. He used to be so lethargic. Luke was one of those who got stuck in the cracks after college. He had no career waiting for him because the job market had stalled. He’d returned home defeated and sullen.

  “What’s at Walker’s farm nowadays?” Jeb asked.

  “He has iguanas, hedgehogs, a mini-pig, an earthworm farm, three rescued otters, and a panther,” Amy said.

  “A panther?” Luke asked, alarmed.

  “She’s old and doesn’t have any teeth,” Amy said.

  “Good to know,” Luke said.

  “He had a roadside attraction zoo, but it failed so now he takes in weird pets that people get tired of having,” Amy said.

  “Take some cat and dog food with you,” Jeb said. He pulled out his wallet and gave Luke some money. “I don’t know what the other animals eat, but I do know that he’s got lots of cats and dogs.”

  Amy grabbed her purse. Then it dawned on her, why not go and pick up Rosa? It would get her out of the house. Millie had said that Rosa was having a hard time adjusting to being at home so much.

  On the way out the door, Amy said, “I’d like to drop by Rosa’s and see if she wants to come with us.”

  “To cheer her up?” Luke asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “F
reaky animals ought to do the trick,” Luke said. “We can put her chair in the back of my truck.”

  “Perfect.” Amy tossed the ball to Jeb on her way out the door.

  ***

  “You want me to do what?” Rosa asked.

  She had an unlit cigar hanging out of her mouth and was playing dirty rummy with Bernie who wore a green-tinted visor. Millie was chomping on another unlit cigar. They had turned Rosa’s kitchen table into a mini Las Vegas.

  At least they weren’t drinking beer at ten thirty in the morning, Amy thought. “I thought a road trip would be nice for you,” Amy said.

  “I’m not a child,” Rosa said, slapping four queens down on the table, “who needs to be entertained.”

  “I realize that,” Amy said. “I’m sorry I asked. I just thought you’d like a chance to get some fresh air.”

  “Come on, Rosa. Go with them. You said yourself you’re getting antsy,” Bernie said.

  “Mr. Walker has hedgehogs,” Millie said. “And it’s mating season. When will you ever get another chance to see hedgehogs dirty dance?”

  Rosa laughed. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. What’re you two going to do while I’m gone?”

  “I’m taking Millie out to lunch and pie.”

  “How about having pie for lunch? Then we’ll follow that with pie for dessert?” Millie said.

  “Two pieces of pie?” Bernie asked.

  “I’m making up for lost time. I didn’t eat pie for a lot of years, you know,” Millie said.

  “Okay then. On that note, I’ll go,” Rosa said. She put her cigar in the ashtray and rolled over to get her coat hanging by the door.

  “Why do you have a cigar?” Amy asked.

  “Chief Bob Ed stopped by earlier and gave us a box. The guys at the station all chipped in for them because they heard I was learning to play dirty rummy. Men think you can’t play cards without a cigar,” Rosa said. “It’s phallic.”

  She chuckled at Amy’s wrinkled nose. “Don’t worry. I don’t smoke them. I just chew a bit.”

  “That’s still kind of gross,” Amy said.

  “I know and it really pisses Susan off,” Rosa said. “So, it’s well worth it.”

  ***

  Steph and Eric were lifting free weights in the firehouse gym. Steph was on her back on the bench with Eric spotting her.

  “More weight,” Steph grunted. She slipped the weight bar back onto its holder and sat up.

  Eric put another ten pounds on the bar. “How’s it been going?”

  “You mean with Rosa?” Steph asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay, I guess. She called me an abilist the other day,” she said. She lay back down and put her hands on the bar.

  Ruth came in with a towel around her neck. She got on the stationary bike and rode hard and fast. Steph was impressed. Ruth was already proving to be a great asset. They’d had a brush fire in Claremore County last week. A farmer had been burning stumps and the wind came up. It wasn’t technically in their jurisdiction, but she and Ruth went to help. The boys stayed behind in case Fenton had an emergency. Ruth ascertained what to do within moments of arriving at the fire. They helped the volunteer fire department and the fire was under control quickly.

  “What’s an abilist?” Eric asked.

  “It means you’re being a bigot with regards to handicapped people,” Ruth said with sweat already dripping off her face.

  “Oh,” Eric said. “I’d never heard of that one.”

  “Yeah, I hadn’t either,” Steph said.

  Steph pumped the weight ten times before putting the bar back in its holder.

  “What were you doing wrong?” Eric asked.

  “Who knows? It seems I do everything wrong,” Steph said. She stood and moved over to the hand weights. She picked up a forty-pound weight and began to do curls.

  “I know you won’t believe me yet, but her attitude will change. She’s not going to be in that chair for long. T-12, S-5 injuries have a good chance of a full recovery,” Ruth said, swiping her face with a towel.

  “That’s not what Susan said,” Steph grunted. “She said the odds were more like fifty-fifty.

  “And how do you feel about it?” Ruth asked.

  “She’s making me really angry,” Steph said. She was glad she’d gotten that off her chest. Rosa had been a tyrant since Amy’s birthday party.

  “Who, Rosa or Susan?” Eric asked. He dropped to the floor and began doing his three hundred crunches, touching elbows to the opposite knee.

  “Both of them,” Steph said. She dropped the weight with a thud.

  She probably shouldn’t be sharing any of this information, but the firehouse had the “what happens in the firehouse stays in the firehouse” rule. She needed some outside input because her other friends were too close to be a good judge of anything. Besides, it wasn’t fair to expect them to choose sides.

  Steph picked up the weight with her left hand and began another set of curls. “Then to top matters off Rosa is having a hard time with physical therapy. She walked out of PT the other day,” Steph said, then stopped herself. “I mean, she rolled out of there all in a huff because she didn’t instantaneously walk. What the hell? She should know better. She broke her wrist a while back and had therapy. She knows how it works. And then Susan is on my case because she thinks Rosa should live in some rehabilitation assisted living place because of my job. Right now, I hate Susan,” Steph said, her voice cracking with emotion.

  Steph dropped the weight and it clanked to the floor. She walked out of the gym, leaving Ruth and Eric behind. No way she was going to cry in front of her fellow firefighters.

  Eric started to follow Steph out the door. “I’ll go,” Ruth said.

  He nodded.

  Ruth found Steph in the sleeping quarters. She was sitting on her narrow bed, destroying a book. She was methodically ripping out pages, crumpling them up one by one, and chucking them on the floor. Ruth sat down on the bed across from her.

  “I hope that isn’t a library book. Because that would be a federal offense,” Ruth said in a futile effort to lighten things up.

  “No, it’s mine.”

  “Was it that bad of a read?”

  “No, but it got me in big trouble. Rosa saw it and got really mad. She told me in no uncertain terms to keep my pop psychology to myself.” Steph held up book so the cover was facing Ruth. The title was How to Deal With the Handicapped. “I thought it would help me help her. I didn’t realize it would make me an abilist.” She ripped out another page and wadded it up.

  “Do you mind?” Ruth asked. She ripped a handful of pages out of the book, wadded them up, and shot them one by one across the room at the waste can.

  “Why do people like to do that?”

  “Because it’s there,” Ruth said, making a perfect shot.

  Steph chuckled. She tore out a page, wadded it up, shot, and missed the can entirely. She did it again… and missed again.

  “You really need lessons,” Ruth said.

  “Okay, teach me.”

  “It’s all about the backspin,” Ruth said. “Watch my wrist.”

  ***

  The hedgehogs weren’t mating. At least not at that moment. Amy and Rosa were looking over the short fence, watching the dozen or so hedgehogs play with each other.

  “I never thought I’d say this, but hedgehogs are really cute,” Amy said.

  Rosa had been quiet on the ride out. Luke had put on vintage Nirvana so that music filled the void.

  “They are,” Rosa said.

  “I’m selling them for twenty dollars each,” Mr. Walker said, walking up behind them. He didn’t look like Amy’s idea of a farmer. He looked more like one of the aging members of ZZ Top—all beard and belly.

  “Hey! Don’t get too close to the llamas!” Mr. Walker shouted at Luke. Luke was a short distance away, leaning over the fence of the llama pen. The old man shuffled off toward Luke, leaving Amy and Rosa alone with the hedgehogs again.

  “I
should get Susan a hedgehog. It might get her off my back for a day or two,” Rosa said.

  “Why is she on your back?” Amy asked.

  “I walked out of my physical therapy appointment,” Rosa said sheepishly. “And I may have cussed out the therapist.”

  “Why?” Amy asked. She looked over at Luke who was pointing his camera close to the llama’s face.

  “Because he was a supreme asshole,” Rosa said.

  “Her name’s Elvira. She don’t like people much,” Mr. Walker warned Luke. “Especially people who get in her face.”

  “But she likes me,” Luke said, leaning in closer and snapping more photos. He lowered his camera and reached out his hand to pet her. Suddenly, the llama drew back her head and scrunched up her face. Then she spat in Luke’s face. It wasn’t a little spit either. It was a large amount of gooey, slimy spit.

  Amy and Rosa burst into laughter. Even Mr. Walker smirked, though it was hard to tell exactly what his lips were doing under all that beard.

  Luke stood frozen with llama saliva dripping off his chin. “Yuck,” he finally said, backing away from the offending beast. He wiped his face with his hand but seemed at a loss as to what to do the goo on his hand.

  “The water spigot is over there,” Mr. Walker said, pointing toward the barn.

  “I guess she doesn’t like me,” Luke said.

  “Don’t take it personal. Elvira doesn’t like anyone,” Mr. Walker said. He looked over at Amy and Rosa who were still giggling. “Let me know if you want one of them hedgehogs,” he said before strutting off toward the chicken coop.

  Rosa laughed as she watched Luke trying to get the spigot to work. “Pull up on the handle with your clean hand. I don’t think Mr. Walker will appreciate llama goop on his handle.”

  “Thanks,” Luke said, pulling up the handle. The water spewed out in a hard gush, splashing dirt and mud all over his shoes and pants.

  This sent both women into fresh gales of laughter. Luke finally managed to clean himself up. Somewhat.

  “You ever need a career change, you could always be a circus clown,” Amy said.

  “Ha ha ha,” Luke muttered. He walked off to explore on his own.

  Amy and Rosa toured the farm. Amy let Rosa set the pace. The dirt was hard-packed from years of being walked on. Rosa had no problem with her wheelchair. Amy didn’t push Rosa to talk. She figured Rosa was being pushed enough by Steph and Susan.