The Milkman

by Tabatha Kiss

“There’s always a choice.” She glances at me. “It’s just the options usually wound up being damned if you do damned if you don’t.”

  I nod, letting it sink in. “Yeah.”

  We walk in silence down the street, the road quickly brightening as we move closer toward Lucky’s bar. The dark concrete lights up beneath the red and blue neon bulbs promising half-off wings and Ladies’ Night specials.

  Kimber’s stride slows again and I get another close look at her face. She holds her breath with nearly-closed eyes as if the bright lights bother her. The large group hanging out at the entrance laugh out loud and she cringes, though I’m positive it has nothing to do with her.

  “Hey,” I say, extending my arm. “Let’s have some fun, eh?”

  She looks at my elbow, her smile inching up as she slowly hooks her arm with mine.

  “Let’s have some fun,” she repeats.

  Seven

  Kimber

  I can’t believe I said yes to this.

  Lucky’s bar on a Saturday night? Of course, it was going to be packed. Of course, people would stop and laugh at me, trying to get just one peek at my damaged face. Why the hell do they care so much anyway? But this is Clover, after all. Your business is their business. It’s always been this way.

  What was I thinking?

  That I needed to get out of the house, that’s what. That I needed to break out of this prison I’ve made for myself.

  But I’m not ready for this.

  Maybe I should just leave.

  Maybe I would… if Nate Scott weren’t holding my arm right now.

  Well, that’s a strange thought.

  “Hey, Nate, over here!”

  Will and Jovie sit at a small table just off the entrance, right behind the large group congregating by the bar. I stiffen but I pretend not to as Nate leads me toward them.

  We stop by the table but Nate doesn’t sit down in the two empty chairs waiting for us.

  “Hey! Let’s move to the back,” Nate shouts over the noise, pointing toward a vacant booth in the back, shadowed corner.

  I almost smile.

  Will follows his finger and nods, giving a thumbs up as he and Jovie grab their glasses and the pitcher of beer off the table.

  I keep close to Nate as he pushes between the crowd. I can practically feel their eyes boring holes into me, recognizing me and whispering my name. We pass the pool tables and the jukebox and I keep my head down beneath the bright, fluorescent bulbs.

  Oh, dammit, Kimber. Come on. You’re out here. You’re doing this. Just raise your head and try.

  Just try.

  I turn my head up to meet the eyes around me... only to realize that they aren’t following me around at all like I feared.

  They’re following him.

  Looks of pity and solemn head shakes. The latest death in the Clover family.

  Nate takes it all in stride, calmly issuing a few quick salutes and waves. It follows us all the way into the back corner until Nate plops down into the booth and slides in to put his back against the wall next to a small lamp on the table. Will and Jovie take the bench across from us and I lower into the empty spot next to Nate.

  He leans closer to me. “You ever get the feeling everyone is staring at you?” he whispers.

  “I thought it was just me,” I say.

  “Let’s ignore them together, shall we?”

  He pushes the small table lamp away, setting it on the far corner and it grows just a little bit darker on our side.

  I smile a thank you and he nods as a tall, red-headed woman appears over our table.

  “Hey, Lucky,” Will greets her with a smile.

  She smiles back, her little eyes scanning around the entire table. “Well, this is an array of faces I haven’t seen in a long while.”

  Jovie shrugs. “We’ve been busy with the baby.”

  “How’s the night off so far?”

  “Excellent,” Will says, raising his pint glass. “Can we get two more glasses, please?”

  Jovie gestures to hers. “And a refill on mine. Water with lemon.”

  “Coming right up.” Lucky pauses with her painted eyes locked on Nate. “Welcome home, Mr. Scott.”

  He flashes an awkward grin. “Lucky. How are ya?”

  “Lonely,” she answers, her red lips curling. “You?”

  “Not particularly,” he answers.

  Jovie’s soft snort draws my eyes across the table. She and Will try hard to stifle their laughter and I swear I feel Nate’s shoe kick out to strike Will in the shin beneath our table.

  “I’ll go get your glasses,” Lucky says, her eyes finally straying from Nate.

  “Thanks, Lucky,” Jovie says, her voice a bit too loud.

  Lucky barely makes it three feet away from the table before Will and Jovie finally crack and Nate deflates onto his hands.

  I stare at them with confusion. “Okay, what did I miss?”

  Jovie gasps. “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Nothing,” Nate says. “Can we not?”

  Jovie ignores him. “You remember the rumors about Nate?”

  I look at him as his eyes pinch shut. “Yeah, but they were just bull, right?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Will says. “They were. All except...” he smiles at Nate, “for one.”

  Nate groans.

  My jaw drops. “You banged Lucky?!”

  “And these assholes won’t let me forget it,” he mutters.

  “I actually had forgotten about it until she flashed you those fuck-me eyes,” Will says, batting his lashes.

  “Me, too,” Jovie says.

  Will straightens up. “Really, man, I would not have suggested this place if I thought it’d make you uncomfortable,” he says. “We can leave if you want.”

  “No,” Nate says. “I’m not uncomfortable. It’s fine. It’s ancient history.”

  I bite my cheek, barely able to contain myself. “So, did she pick you up, or what?”

  Jovie slaps a hand over her mouth as she snorts again.

  Nate exhales. “Okay, now I’m uncomfortable.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, holding in a laugh. “You don’t have to answer that. Never mind.”

  “No, it’s all right.” He clears his throat and smiles. “Actually, I picked her up.”

  I raise my brows. “Really?”

  “I know, right?” Jovie says. “You wouldn’t expect it but I’ve seen Nate sweet talk his way beneath a lot of skirts.”

  Nate frowns. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She cocks her head. “Oh, come on. Kimber, you know what I mean.”

  He looks at me. “What does she mean, Kimber?”

  I hesitate, muttering my words. “I guess… she… means that you…” I pause as I look into his amused eyes. “Okay, it is a little shocking. I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to have it in you to pick up a woman like Lucky.”

  “Nathaniel Scott,” Will says. “The man. The myth. The milkman.”

  Nate squints. “Shut up.”

  Lucky appears over our table again and the four of us freeze in a pin-drop silence. She bends over way too far and lays down the two empty pint glasses, one in front of me and the other in front of Nate — her seductive, green eyes locked on the latter the entire time.

  Without a word from any of us, Lucky turns around again and walks off.

  Jovie nods. “She forgot my refill.”

  We all crack up, Nate included. I cover my mouth, laughing against it and making sure my hair doesn’t stray too far out of place.

  When I look at Nate again, I realize he’s gazing at me. His eyes drop quickly and he reaches for the pitcher of beer on the table to fill his glass.

  I lower my hands to my side but my grin stays high.

  I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. My pink cheeks hurt from smiling all night and I can’t remember that last time I drank this much but I can’t seem to make myself care either.

  At some point, so
mewhere in that dark corner surrounded by people I never once thought could be my friends, I felt a piece of the old me coming out again. That carefree Kimber with bright eyes and an infectious laugh. I’d forgotten what my own laugh sounded like.

  I’d forgotten what my own laugh sounded like.

  Wow.

  The door opens behind me and I roll my shoulders back as Jovie walks in. She lets out a happy groan and joins me by the mirror.

  “You all right?” she asks, raising her fingers to just beneath her nostrils.

  I nod. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I breathe out. “Just needed to splash some water on my face. Been a while since I’ve had this much to drink...”

  She chuckles and rubs a glob of soap over her palms as she soaks her hands beneath the tap. “That’s gonna be me in a few months.” She brings her soapy hands to her nostrils again and winces. “I’m never going to rid myself of this onion ring smell, am I?”

  I laugh. “They are quite pungent.”

  “Blegh.” She finishes washing up and rips off a fresh paper towel. “It feels so good having a night out, though. One of the first we’ve had since Joanne was born.” She glances at me in the mirror. “You and Curtis don’t have kids, right?”

  “We haven’t... crossed that bridge yet.”

  “It’s an interesting bridge, that’s for sure.” She tosses the paper towel away and turns to face me. “So, what’s the deal with you and Nate?”

  I pause. “What do you mean?”

  “We were kind of shocked he asked you to come along,” she says, smirking. “You weren’t exactly on each other’s radar in high school.”

  “I’m just as surprised as you are.”

  “Oh, I’m not surprised. Just shocked he had the nerve to talk to you at all.”

  I tilt my head. “Okay, you’ve lost me, Jovie.”

  She fidgets on her feet. “Okay, so this was a million years ago, but... Nate had quite the eye for you back at Clover High.”

  Heat pours into my cheeks again. “He did?”

  “Well, everybody did. Obviously. But especially Nate. We used to give him shit about it.” She waves a hand. “Don’t take that the wrong way or anything. You remember how teens can be assholes to each other about crushes and whatnot.”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “So... shocked.” Her smirk deepens. “But not surprised.”

  “I get it,” I say with a nod.

  “I am a little surprised you said yes, though,” she says. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you outside of your garage.”

  My gaze falls to the old, chipped sink in front of us. “Yeah, I just... I’m trying to branch out and feel normal again, if that makes sense.”

  “It does.” Her face goes soft. “Kimber, I’m sorry if I haven’t been very neighborly to you this year. I’ve been wrapped up in my own baby-centric world and I never really made myself available to you when I should have...”

  “No, it’s not your fault. I haven’t been very approachable in a long time.”

  “I know what it’s like,” she says. “Not what you went through, specifically, but loss, grief. I’ve been to some dark places before.”

  I nod. Everyone in Clover knows a thing or two about Jovie Ross’ family history and her epic falling out with Will Myers.

  “If you ever need to talk to somebody, I’m right next door,” she says. “I probably should have said this a year ago, but... I’m hoping for a better-late-than-never situation here.”

  I smile. “Thanks, Jovie. That means a lot, actually...”

  “I’m happy you came out with us tonight,” she says. “We should make it a regular thing — if you want.”

  “I might take you up on that.”

  “Or if you’d prefer something a little lighter, there’s always Will’s sister’s book club.” She rolls her eyes back and makes a long snoring noise. “He makes me go. They meet on Tuesdays. I’d really dig the friendly company.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, sure. That sounds fun.”

  “Fun is a stretch,” she chuckles, “but we’ll power-through the horrendous quote-unquote literature together. Do you like to read? I usually just throw on an audiobook while hanging out with the baby, to be honest. Sitting still for too long makes me antsy.”

  “I love to read, actually,” I say.

  “Oh, good. You’ll fit right in and show me up. It’ll be just like high school again,” she quips, gently nudging my elbow with hers.

  “What are they reading now?”

  She pauses, glancing up in deep thought. “Some romance by... something Rose? Not my genre of choice. I’ll stop by and let you know before this week’s meeting.” She gestures at the door. “Anyway, we should get back out there before the guys find their way over to the karaoke machine.” She raises a palm. “Trust me, no good will come of it.”

  “I’ll be right out. Just gonna wash my hands.”

  “Okay.”

  Jovie opens the bathroom door and a wave of sounds carry in, everything from voices to laughter to music to the clack of billiard balls.

  The door swings closed behind her and the noise falls away. I turn to stare at myself in the mirror again. Bright, blue eyes. Full, pink cheeks. The old Kimber shining through…

  But...

  I slide my beanie off my head and tilt forward, allowing for my hair to fall thicker in front of me. I fix the hat back on, sliding it down to secure the hair in place over the scars tearing their way down my right cheek.

  But I’m still the new Kimber, no matter how much the old one wants to come back.

  Eight

  Nate

  Will and I stumble out of the bar, our arms loosely wrapped around the other’s shoulders.

  “I’ve got friends in low plaaaaces!” we bellow together, out-of-sync and pleasantly tone-deaf.

  I turn my head in time to see Jovie rolls her eyes at Kimber.

  “See? No good,” she says.

  Kimber laughs.

  “Hey, hey!” I say, pointing a finger. “Are you dissing us?”

  Will spins around. “Oh, hell naw. You can’t say a disparaging word about the talented vocal duo of Willon and Natefunkel.”

  I frown. “I thought it Naten and Willfunkel.

  He scoffs. “Uh… no. That’s never been a thing.”

  I push him off me. “I beg to differ, sir.”

  “Boys…” Jovie says.

  Will raises a few lose fists. “I’ll fight you for it.”

  Kimber cringes. “Uh-oh.”

  Jovie shakes her head. “This man fathered my child.”

  I keep my hands at my sides and stand up tall. “She’s got a point,” I say to Will. “We should be role models for your little girl.”

  Will nods and drops his arms. “All right—”

  I reach out and smack his cheek. “I win!”

  “Cheater!”

  “Wuss!”

  “Boys,” Jovie warns again.

  Will and I straighten up and present our hands in surrender.

  “Sorry, Jove,” Will says.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Sorry.”

  She crosses her arms but she’s unable to hold back a smile. “We should get them home before Sheriff Thompson does his rounds,” she says to Kimber. “You guys want a ride back?”

  “Nah,” I say, as Kimber’s eyes fall downward. “Want to walk it off with me, Kimber?”

  She lifts her head and nods. “Sure,” she says.

  “Okie-dokie.” Jovie latches onto Will’s arm. “We’ll see you later, then. Goodnight!”

  I wave goodbye. “Night, Jove.”

  “Goodnight, Jovie,” Kimber says.

  Will throws up a hand. “Bye, Kimber. Bye, Natefunkel.”

  I frown as Kimber chuckles.

  Jovie sighs and yanks Will toward her car. “Come on…”

  We watch as she gets him inside and swings back around to the driver’s side.

  “Thank you.”

  I look at Kimber to find her stari
ng at me with light, serious eyes.

  “For what?” I ask.

  She shifts on her toes. “For not making it too obvious why we’re walking,” she says.

  “Oh, that?” I swat the air. “No big deal.”

  “No, it is. Really. I haven’t...” She slides her hands into her pockets. “After the accident, I got into Curtis’ car at the hospital and I couldn’t breathe. They had to sedate me just to get me home and ever since, I just...”

  “Hey,” I say. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

  She swallows hard. “Thank you.”

  I gesture to the sidewalk and we make our way there with slow, comfortable strides.

  “Thank you, actually,” I say. “To be honest, I was kind of dreading this. You made it somewhat bearable.”

  “Why were you dreading it?” she asks. “I thought you, Will, and Jovie were close.”

  “Oh, we are. No, it wasn’t them. I was just dreading... you know, Clover. In general.”

  She goes quiet for a second. “And Lucky?” she finally asks, her lips curling.

  I hold my breath. “Okay, yeah. Her, too.”

  Kimber chuckles. “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right.” I shrug. “I just always felt like a joke around here. It’s hard to be taken seriously when you drive around in a white truck with a cow on the side, you know?”

  “I see.”

  “It’s all just temporary, though,” I add. “I’ll be out of here again soon.”

  “How soon?”

  “Three weeks, tops.”

  “Where are you living now?” she asks.

  “A tiny shack just outside of Portland,” I answer.

  Her brow piques with interest. “Oh, yeah? Do you like it out there?”

  “It’s...” I pause. “Well, it’s not Kansas. So, yeah, I do. If that makes sense.”

  She nods. “It makes perfect sense.”

  I glance over at her just in time to catch a street lamp igniting her pink cheek. “You think you and Curtis will ever get out of here?”

  “Uh...” She takes a breath. “I don’t know. Part of me hopes so.”

  “And the other part?”

  She raises her head and looks around. “Part of me thinks this is home,” she says. “it’s hard to imagine settling down anywhere else. Raising kids, growing old. That’s what Clover was made for…” She peeks over at me and we lock eyes for a second. “If that makes sense.”