The Milkman

by Tabatha Kiss

  She gives a soft shrug. “The offer still stands.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “Look, I know it’s kind of town policy to air my dirty laundry for all to see but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anybody about this.”

  “Of course.”

  “And please…” I pause. “Please don’t tell Will I’m here. I shut the car in the garage for a reason.”

  She nods. “He won’t talk to me right now anyway. My calls go to voicemail, he ignores my texts. Talking to you was the last resort I had to get my brother back.”

  I shake my head. “Probably going to take a lot more than a casual chat with me to do that, Sara.”

  “I know.” She bites her inner cheek. “Jovie, I am truly sorry that you never got to meet your baby… but who knows how it works, you know? Maybe you will someday.”

  I look at her, sensing real compassion from her for the first time. “Yeah. Maybe someday.”

  She fidgets for a few seconds before standing up from her chair. “Anyway, I have a lab that I’m late for, so…”

  “Sara.” She stops and turns back. “If you ever need to talk to someone whose been there…”

  I let the rest of it fade off but she nods, understanding.

  “I will,” she says. “Thanks.”

  I sit still, glancing at her dark pink scrubs as she reaches for her purse. “Hey…”

  She pauses. “What?”

  I debate the question for a second before giving in. “Where do you go to school?”

  Thirty-Eight

  Will

  “Will, open up!”

  I recognize Tucker’s voice. I’d hoped he’d turn around and leave after I didn’t answer his knock twice but I guess he’s more determined this morning.

  “Will!”

  He bangs harder and I grunt.

  “Tuck, it’s open!”

  The knocking stops and the knob twists, instantly opening on his confused face.

  “Has that always been unlocked?”

  I nod from the couch. “For the last two days.”

  “Huh.” He steps inside and closes it. His eyes focus on me for a second before he scans the room with his hands on his hips. “So, what ya been up to?”

  “This.”

  “You sleeping on the couch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  Because the bed smells like her.

  I sit up and scratch my shadowed face. “Just am,” I say instead.

  He exhales, hesitating for a moment. “No Jovie yet, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  “Just… no idea where she is?”

  “Nope.”

  “Or whether or not she’s even still in Kansas right now?”

  I flex. “Nope.”

  “But hey — you’re engaged. Right? She’ll probably be back by tonight. So, get up, hop in the shower, throw on some clean undies, maybe get in a shave or two, and let’s go to work.” He claps twice. “Come on.”

  “We weren’t really engaged, Tuck. It was all fake.”

  He blinks. “Beg pardon?”

  I sigh and stand up from the couch to pace around. “It wasn’t real. We just told people we were so she could get on the party committee. It was her stupid idea. She thought getting involved with the town would make people take her seriously. The funny thing is, it actually worked. People were all over her, complimenting her, thanking her…”

  Tucker’s closed fist flies at my face. I twist away out of reflex and his hand slams into the bookshelf behind my head.

  “Aw, fuck…” he groans, cradling his wrist as he slinks away from me.

  “Did—” I stare at him with wide eyes. “Did you just take a swing at me?”

  “You’re damn right I did!”

  “Why?”

  “For fake engaging my cousin, that’s why!”

  “Did you miss the part where I said it was her idea?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Then, why swing at me?”

  “I don’t know.” He winces as he opens and closes his fist. “It felt right at the time…”

  I roll my eyes and head into the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the freezer. Tucker follows me in with his head down but he keeps his distance.

  “Also,” I say, tossing it at him. He flinches but manages to catch it to numb his knuckles. “It was real to me. Hell, there was a minute during the dance when it seemed real to her, too.”

  “Then, what happened?” he asks.

  I look at him as bile from my stomach infects my throat. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she’s coming back, and when she does, I’m going to be here. I have to be here.”

  “Will…”

  “No. She lives here. Her stuff is here. She has to come home eventually. I am not leaving this house until she does.”

  “Okay, but…” He discards the ice pack on the counter. “Marv sent me down here to tell you that if you don’t show up to work today, he’s gonna fire you.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He holds his hands in prayer. “Look, I know this shit is rough and I’m worried about her, too, but… you gotta look at the bigger picture here. You don’t have to even pick up a wrench. You’ll be on desk duty until you’re ready but you have to come in.”

  I hesitate.

  “I mean…” He shrugs. “You had to have known this was a possibility. It’s Jovie.”

  “Fine,” I say.

  Tucker heaves a thick sigh. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll go get dressed.”

  He holds up a hand. “I was serious about the shower thing.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I walk out of the kitchen toward my bathroom, briefly pausing in the doorway to our bedroom as I pass by it.

  It’s Jovie.

  Same old, sad Jovie.

  I almost expect her to be in there, sleeping soundly. But she’s not. She’s out there somewhere, alone and scared, and that’s my fault. I could sit here and dwell on that for a few more days while my life crumbles to pieces but Tucker is right.

  Bigger picture.

  The pink and red ribbons are gone.

  Valentine’s Day is over. Soon, the town will be lit up a bright green for St. Patrick’s but until then, it’s back to normal. Back to the basics.

  Just regular Clover Folk.

  I stare out the windows of the car shop from my stool behind the counter, watching each face as they pass by. A few actually peek inside the garage, no doubt looking for me. Gotta get that taste of juicy gossip between boring and mundane moments of their pathetic, little lives…

  Jesus. Maybe Jovie really is rubbing off on me.

  I straighten up as the door opens and Coach Rogers walks inside.

  “Hello, William!”

  “Coach.” I force a smile to match his own. “Van giving you trouble again?”

  “No,” he says. “I just figured I’d stop by before classes today to check in on you. See how you were doing. I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been a little MIA the last few days…”

  I glare at him. “Sex-ed and dodge ball, Coach.”

  He tilts his head. “Now, that’s a four-point frown, William. I had high hopes for that six-point smile you flashed when I first walked in.”

  “Go away.”

  “Okay. Fine. Suit yourself.” He steps back from the counter. “But, for what it’s worth… I’m rooting for you guys.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “I’ve never wanted to watch people suffer, William. I am not a monster.”

  “Does that mean you’re done with the psych profiles?” I ask.

  He hesitates. “Well…”

  “Have a good day, Coach.”

  “Bye.”

  He spins around and walks out as I shake my head with annoyance.

  Tucker emerges from the garage. “New job?” he asks, looking hopeful.

  “False alarm,” I say.

  He huffs onto the stool beside me and groans. �
�So slow today.”

  The phone rings on the counter.

  “Well, maybe we got a live one.”

  Tucker leans forward as I pick up the phone.

  “Marv’s Auto Repair,” I answer.

  “Hey, this is highway patrol. We’ve got a traveler in need of assistance in your area. Are you available for a tow?”

  “Yes, we are,” I say. I snap my fingers at the notepad next to Tucker’s arm and he slides it closer to me. “What’s the location?”

  “About fifteen miles east of you on 70.”

  I write it down. “And the vehicle?”

  “She said it’s a powder blue POS.”

  I pause. “A POS?”

  He chuckles. “That’s what she said.”

  “Thanks,” I say through my teeth. “I’ll take care of it.”

  I hang up a little too hard and Tucker stares at me.

  “What was that about?” he asks.

  “I need the tow,” I say, rounding the counter.

  “But you’re on desk duty—”

  “Tucker, give me the keys.”

  He grabs them from his breast pocket and drops them into my open palm. “Need help?”

  “No.”

  I shove the door and stomp around the building to the tow truck.

  Jovie freakin’ Ross.

  She’s running away again. Or she tried to and her old, beat-up car broke down on her way out of town. Not really surprising considering all the miles she put on it over the last few years.

  I climb into the truck, feeling fueled by anger and frustration.

  I can’t believe she’d do this to me. Again. After everything we’ve been through. After all the times I stuck up for her. This is how she repays me?

  Why am I so surprised?

  This is exactly who Jovie Ross is. Who she’s always been.

  I speed down the highway, heading east, passing every car I come up on. It’s reckless and a little stupid, admittedly, but after the last few days, running on passion is about all I have left.

  I see her car on the other side of the highway. Jovie’s little, blue car.

  She’s standing outside of it in her ripped jeans and a black sweater, leaning against the front bumper with her arms crossed and her head down. A familiar pose but it’s not enough to soften my resolve.

  I deserve an explanation for this.

  I make a U-turn and speed up to park the tow in front of her. Her head rises in surprise and I watch her brow furrow with confusion through the rearview mirror.

  Her face softens as I hop out and slam the door closed.

  “Will…”

  I point a finger at her. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, Jove.”

  She frowns. “What are you talking about?”

  A rush of adrenaline powers my tongue, completely decimating any filter I have. “I’m talking about exactly what this looks like.” I gesture at her car. “You’re running off again. I can’t believe you! One setback and that’s it? You’re done? Bye bye Jovie for another four years?!”

  “Okay, Will—”

  “No, I don’t want to hear another one of your dumb excuses.” I fill my lungs, feeling them burn as she stares at me with eyes of stone. “I was right about you all along. You’re a selfish, irresponsible child! You don’t care about me. You don’t care about anything or anybody but yourself. Did you stop to think about what this would do to me? Especially now after you’ve already uprooted my life?”

  “Will—”

  “I’m not done!”

  She pushes off the hood and walks around to the driver’s side.

  “Where the hell are you going?” I ask.

  Jovie says nothing. She reaches inside and withdraws a stack of papers from the passenger seat. She returns to me with her head down and her hand extended, silently waiting for me to take them.

  “What’s this?” I snatch them from her fingers. “My Dear John letter? An itinerary for bumming around Europe?”

  My attention falls to the papers and I scan them, feeling an aching regret growing in my gut with every new word.

  I lower my voice. “A community college application?”

  Jovie nods. “I met with an adviser in Overland Park today. He showed me around the campus a little.”

  “You’re applying to school?”

  “It seems like a good fit and the commute won’t be too bad, assuming my car doesn’t explode by then.” She stares at her shoes. “I can start in the fall if I want. I was going to tell you tonight.”

  “… Oh.”

  “But, please, finish your little outburst,” she says, crossing her arms again. “I bet it feels quite liberating to dig into me like that.”

  “Jove…” I swallow the black void down my throat. “I am so sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” She shrugs. “You have every right to assume.”

  “No, I don’t. I feel like an asshole. What… what can I do to make this up to you?”

  “Well, you can start by cinching up my car,” she says, back-kicking her bumper. “Then, you can spend the entire ride home singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow at the top of your lungs.”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  “With the windows rolled down.”

  “I can do that.”

  “In your underwear.”

  I squint. “Getting weird now but I’m still in.”

  She smiles. “I wouldn’t leave again without telling you, Will.”

  “I know.”

  “You didn’t seem to know that five minutes ago.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

  “It’s okay,” she says.

  I glance down the abandoned highway. “So… where have you been, Jovie?”

  “Hanging out with my dad.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, he and I had a few things to work out.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “Not bad but we’ll see. Baby steps and all that.” She swallows. “Seems like we have some trust issues to work out, too.”

  I nod. “I agree.”

  “Before the fake wedding.”

  “That…” I pause, holding back the smile begging to shine through, “is gonna have to be one hell of a fake counselor.”

  “They certainly have their work cut out for them,” she quips. “You’re all sorts of messed up.”

  “And you’re about one mental break away from a straitjacket.”

  “And yet…” she nods slowly, “I think we can make it work.”

  “Me, too.” I step around her to release the cinch off the truck. “So, what are you thinking of majoring in?” I ask.

  “Business,” she answers.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I figure Mr. Trin’s gotta kick it at some point and I basically already know how to run his shop. Doesn’t seem like a bad gig; bringing toys and happiness to all the little children of Clover.”

  I attach the cinch to her front bumper. “And it’ll make it so much easier for you to slip them doobies and condoms with each purchase of twenty dollars or more.”

  “I know you’re kidding,” she says, “but that’s exactly what they’ll say, isn’t it?”

  “Pretty much but hopefully by then the name Jovie Ross won’t need a positive spin anymore.”

  “Hopefully.”

  I step around her toward the truck.

  “Will…” I pause mid-stride, feeling her fingertips graze my arm but she doesn’t latch on. “I’m sorry,” she says. “About everything. Everything that I could control, everything that I couldn’t control…”

  “Hey.” I cup her face. “I know. And this is going to be the last time you ever apologize for it. Okay?”

  She nods. “Okay.”

  I kiss her forehead. She tilts up and we lock lips for a brief moment, too. “Let’s go home.”

  Jovie looks up at me with clouded eyes, the same ambiguous stare I’ve seen in her since we were kids. She could turn and run. She could stay and fight. Two extremes, both eq
ually as possible and impossible as the other.

  Finally, she smiles.

  Since day one, people have asked me what the hell I see in Jovie Ross.

  At first, I wasn’t sure how to answer them. What business was it of theirs anyway? Over time, I’d mostly shrug off the question.

  ‘Just look at her,’ I’d say.

  She’s beautiful. She’s witty and smart. Sexy and great in bed. She can dish it out and take it right back. Strong yet vulnerable. Courageous yet shy.

  I’d list off all of these amazing qualities that came as naturally to her as breathing does to the rest of us but I never stopped to think about why I could see those qualities when everyone else clearly could not.

  Was I just naïve? Was my attraction to her all just some innate, biological urge, like an animal craving blood and sex? Why this girl? Why her? Why me?

  Why did I love her and why couldn’t I stop loving her, even during the darkest days of my life?

  Tonight, somewhere in this mess of wrinkled bedsheets and condom wrappers, the answer became so clear and focused that I haven’t been able to sleep.

  Jovie lies on the bed next to me with her eyes closed. Her hair is scattered beneath her head, creating a wild, brown halo against the white pillowcase. Her lids twitch in deep slumber as if they’re about to open at any moment but they don’t. That dinosaur necklace rests against her collarbone, rising and falling with her breath. Our blanket only covers part of her side, leaving her right breast and hip exposed but it’s a warm night and I don’t dare risk waking her by tucking her in.

  Moonlight shines in from the window above our heads, illuminating her face and body. Angelic yet sinful.

  So, what the hell do I see in Jovie Ross? It’s simple, really.

  My future.

  I ease off the bed and reach for my cell phone on the nightstand, passing by that old torn and taped photo of us above my desk on the way out into the hall.

  There’s one thing left to do and I can only think of one person capable of making it happen on such short notice. Luckily, he doesn’t sleep much.

  It rings once before Tucker answers.

  “Hey, Will. What’s up?”

  I lower my voice to a whisper in the kitchen. “I need you to do something for me,” I say. “It has to happen fast. Like tomorrow fast.”

  “Sure. Whatever you need, man.”