by Devon Ashley
“Don’t get me going. I really don’t like her.”
That sentiment was ringing a familiar tune. Guess I had yet to see what personality traits Lis offered that made everyone carry around a facial expression that resembled smelling a squashed skunk. “Does anyone?” I asked.
Giving his frown plenty of time to make its opinion known, Brady muttered, “Owen, apparently.” His eyes lifted to meet mine and his frown very slowly righted itself. I suddenly felt the status of predator vs. prey, me being the latter. “So what do you say? You. Me. Drinks. Dance floor.”
I could tell by the gleam in his eyes he was already imagining our bodies pressed against each other, swaying with the rhythm. And I had to admit, the scenario wasn’t displeasing to my own imagination. I could already feel a tickle on my skin as I thought of his hands sliding down my body. “I suppose I could work with that.” But before he had the chance to get too excited, I tightened one eye and added, “The drinks, that is. We’ll have to see about the dancing.”
I was leaning back on my bed with my computer on my lap typing out an email to Francie, my old roommate back in Sacramento, when Nana called out down the hall. “I’m going out tonight, Tessie. Think you’ll be okay by yourself?”
Uh, hello? I was twenty-one, not seven. “I’ll try not to play with the stove while you’re gone,” I sassed. “Where are you going anyway?”
“Just meeting the girls for a nightcap.”
That got my attention. Enough I tossed the laptop aside and went down the hall to Nana’s room. She had the whole room done up in cottage chic. Her headboard was curvy and tufted in a pale blue, with white sheets and a soft white linen duvet cover. Heavy silk drapes that matched the blue hung to the side of her window, white polka dotted sheers just behind them. She kept her walls naked with eggshell white and her side tables reflective, made of mirror-like material. Her dresser and small desk matched, distressed and white-washed. A beautiful glass chandelier hung over her desk, though I doubt its light was ever sufficient enough to work by.
She was standing in front of her dresser, putting her earrings in. She had on a long crinkled skirt and an airy summer blouse. Way too nice for meeting just the girls, in my opinion. “Girls, huh? Sure you’re not meeting a man tonight?” I asked mischievously, crossing my arms as I settled into a lean against her door jam. No way she was getting past before I hustled a few answers out of her.
“Just the girls,” she assured me. But then she dropped her hands in the air palms up. “But should I happen to come across a fine gentleman in the process, I see no reason not to mingle.”
“It would be incredibly rude not to.” I watched as she secured a flashy piece of costume jewelry around her neck. “So where exactly are you and the girls going tonight? And which girls are we talking about here? Not that dirty-minded duo you’re always hanging out with, I hope. Such a bad influence.”
She narrowed her eyes at me as she crossed her room and disappeared into the closet. “Who says they’re the influence? And who’s the parent here?”
“It’s going to be me for once if you’re sneaking off to meet boys.” She cracked up with laughter, but that didn’t deter me. “And you still didn’t answer my questions.”
Her head peeked out just enough to catch my eye. “Are you going to start answering all of mine?”
My mouth opened a little. I knew exactly what she was referring to, how she wanted to know more about what was going on with me and Brady. Since I didn’t offer a reply, her finger popped out just long enough to point at me. “See?”
She disappeared into the closet again and I shook off my body freeze. “There’s nothing to share. Nothing happened between me and Brady.”
“Well, there’s nothing happening between me and the girls either,” she mocked, coming back out with a pair of leather sandals. She sat down on the bench at the foot of her bed to put them on.
I decided it was time to release the pouty lips and lay on the guilt. “So you’re really not going to tell me who you’re going out with and where? What if something happens while you’re out?”
“You’ve got my cell phone,” she said flatly.
With that, Nana got up, grabbed her purse and headed towards me. I stood there blocking the exit for the woman who raised me a hell of a lot better than that woman who took up the generational spot between us.
Suddenly she smiled and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m just messing with you, Tessie. I’m meeting Rose and Helen at the tea shop and then we might go dancing at the VA.” She squeezed by me and headed down the hall. “Don’t wait up!”
“But it’s Tuesday,” I whispered to myself. Who the heck went out on a Tuesday?
I waited at the top of the stairs to hear the door leading down to the shop close, a key locking it behind her, before I made my way slowly back to my room. I was beginning to think my grandmother had a better social life than I did.
Determined not to let that realization depress me further, I finished going through my emails and paid my monthly bills. Afterwards, I sat there with nothing to do. My eReader lay beside me, but I didn’t want to read. Nor watch TV or soak in a bath. And it was only eight o’clock.
I picked up my phone and thumbed my way through the contacts. I had just checked in with Francie through email, so I skipped right past her. My mom? Not even worth a second glance. Brady? I actually paused on that one a bit, but decided it was best to let him contact me. I knew he was taking summer classes, but I didn’t know his schedule. Nor did I really know what it was he wanted from me yet.
And I didn’t want to put that much effort into my appearance tonight, so I rolled past him until I found Sarah and dialed. For all I knew she was at work tonight. When she picked up after the third ring, it wasn’t a bar I heard in the background, but possibly a TV. “Yes’um?”
“Hey,” I greeted back. “What are you doing?”
“Just cleaning. Want to come over and hang?”
“You don’t mean clothes, do you?”
“Damn. You are smarter than us country folk.” I rolled my eyes even though no one could see them. “You can just watch some shows with me if you want, but I ain’t going anywhere tonight.”
“Good. Me neither. I don’t want to even change.”
“Well, then you’re in luck. Bring snacks.”
She hung up on me then. I grabbed my bag and slipped my phone inside. I probably should’ve thrown on a bra, but I seriously didn’t care. It wasn’t like I was wearing a white t-shirt or that somewhat revealing work outfit of hers. I grabbed a bag of Cheetos and a roll of thin mint cookies from the guilty-pleasure stash in the freezer and headed out. I got all the way downstairs and into my car before I realized I didn’t have a flippin’ clue where Sarah lived.
Her ears must’ve been burning, because right when I dug out my phone to call and ask her, a text message came through, telling me exactly where to go. Her apartment was only about a mile away, so I was there in less than five minutes. The apartment complex was a little rundown, but still cute. Each building was its own rectangle with a gated entryway. I used the intercom to get buzzed in. Inside a landscaped environment awaited me, a large running fountain in one direction, a small pool in the other. All the apartment doors were exterior and charming black Victorian railings were used throughout the two storied complex. I climbed the stairs and followed the path until I found 205.
As soon as she opened the door, I realized the excitement in her eyes was for the cookies she snatched rather than for me. “Ooh! You’ve got the good stuff. Okay, you can be my friend again,” she mocked playfully.
“God you’re easy. Guys must love you.”
“Yup. Have a seat girlie. We’re almost done.”
“We’re?” I asked suspiciously.
“Yeah, Rory lives here too. She’s cleaning the bathroom and I’ve got the kitchen. We’ve ordered a pizza too if you’re really hungry.”
I shook my head, taking up one of the barstools to watch her work. Their apart
ment was cookie-cutter squares and rectangles, with lower quality cabinetry and plain-ole-beige on the walls that seemed to magnetize dirt. Reminded me a lot of the space I shared with Francie back at school, so in a way, I felt right at home with the cheap furnishings.
“You didn’t mention Rory was your roommate.”
“No?” Sarah dried the items in the sink one by one, stacking them to the side. “Probably because she never made it that night. We actually met at work. I wanted to leave home and her roommate was moving on.”
“So you guys get along alright?”
“Hope so,” a new voice said as it entered the room. She was a few years older than us and wore thin-rimmed glasses that were a deep shade of burgundy. A sheer floral hairband held back her brunette hair, which was cut short halfway down her neck, with a fringe of bangs to cover her forehead. She had soft brown eyes and an even softer smile. “Otherwise she’s one hell of a liar.”
“Well, I actually am,” Sarah teased back. “But I don’t have to lie about this.”
“Spoken like a man,” Rory jested. Reaching her hand out to shake mine, she said, “Hi. I’m Rory.”
“Tessa,” I replied. “Nice to meet you.”
Rory laughed as she made her way around the counter. I could smell the soft trace of bleach in her wake. “Well now I know Sarah hasn’t told you anything about me.”
Sarah snapped the part of Rory’s bare thigh with the kitchen towel. “I didn’t want to scare her off.
“Rory,” Sarah began, “has a high percentage rate of being labeled the other woman. So don’t be surprised if you hear women talking shit about her in the future.”
“Won’t hurt my feelings if you do,” Rory added nonchalantly, “but just so you know, it’s not like that.”
Confused, I asked, “No?”
Hey, to each her own. Wasn’t my place to tell her how to live her life.
Sarah shook her head before drying another plate. Rory helped her out by putting away the ones Sarah had finished.
“No,” Rory replied, then turned to face me, hands flat down on the counter. “I’m a bartender. People have this incessant need to spill their shit to me.”
“And she lets them,” Sarah cut in.
Rory just waved her off, admitting what she said. “I have, on more than one occasion…”
“More like all the time,” Sarah interrupted again.
Ignoring her, Rory continued with, “…given the guy some advice to dump the needy, whiney, or just plain bitch-crazy woman draggin’ him down and move on. I can’t help it if several of those guys in turn tried to move on with me.”
“Of which she let them move on with her,” Sarah explained, her eyes shooting daggers at Rory from behind.
“Hey,” Rory said in a defensive way, “most women don’t wanna date the guy ‘cause they don’t wanna be their rebound girl. Me? I love being the rebound girl. Line ‘em up, I say. All fun, no drama, no expectations.”
“I don’t think it’s you playing the rebound that has all those girls so upset. It’s because you so easily convinced their men to dump them, so they automatically think you’re trying to steal them away.”
“Hence the other woman syndrome,” I finished.
“Exactly,” Rory replied. “But you know what? If any of those bitches were worth being with, their guys wouldn’t have been asking me what to do with them in the first place. Am I right?” she asked of me.
“Probably,” I reluctantly agreed. But only because I didn’t want to get dragged into all the reasons behind her actions. Besides, it was time to roll this conversation down a new path. “So what are we watching tonight?”
Rory had just opened her mouth to tell me when Sarah cut her hand through the air, crying out, “Na-uh!” She laid the towel on the counter and leaned over. “Not until you tell me what’s up with you and Brady.”
Rory’s interest piqued, her head turned eerily slow like that girl on The Exorcist. Sarah just stared at me with a knowing look.
I practically tripped over my words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh-no-no-no-no-no,” she muttered, pointing her finger at me. “I know something’s up. The way he gave you all that attention last week and then took you out for a drive a few nights ago?”
My eyes sort of ratted myself out. I shook my head, readying my defense.
“Don’t even think about it,” Sarah told me. “It’s a small enough town to be spotted. Plenty of ladies who would love to have him saw him with you, so don’t you even try denying he’s into you!”
“Me? What about you and Matt, huh?”
That completely caught her by surprise and I suddenly had the upper hand.
“Why? What have you heard?” she asked suspiciously.
“More like what I’ve seen. You’d have to be blind not to. I saw the way he kept watching you the other night.”
Rory literally jumped in then, her feet planting loudly on the floor next to Sarah, singing, “Ha! I told you.” Then she turned her attention directly to me with her normal voice. “I totally told her.”
Sarah snapped her with the towel again. “He does not, and I’m tired of waiting.”
Kind of in shock, I whined, “Sarah, come on. He was totally into you. And he looked like he wanted to beat the crap out of Brady for mentioning your little romps in the woods.”
“What romps?” Rory asked devilishly, looking to me instead of Sarah, knowing I’d be the one most likely to answer that particular question.
But I didn’t know the deets. “I don’t know. Ask little Miss Poison Ivy here.”
Rory cracked up with laughter, hooting and hollering over something I just didn’t get. “That’s why?” she asked Sarah, whose arms were now crossed, her head shaking back and forth as her eyes angled away from both of us, her lower lip getting chewed on a little too roughly. “That’s why you came home with poison ivy that one time? Oh, my God that’s awesome!”
With a more somber tone, I asked, “How could you possibly think he’s not into you?”
Her eyes lazily drifted my way. Rory was still chuckling, but she had moved to get something out of the refrigerator.
Sarah sighed. “He’s been friendly with me for months, but the guy’s never taken even one step in the direction of asking me out. I’m like the friend he thinks is cute and loves to practice his flirting on, but has no intention of actually dating. I gave up on that tease long ago.”
“No, you haven’t,” Rory refuted, a six pack of generic cola now on the counter between us. “She only likes to believe she has.”
“Why don’t you just ask him out?” I wondered aloud, shrugging my shoulders. And I didn’t wait to be offered a soda. I just reached for one and popped the top, then opened the Cheetos. This was better than a movie any day.
Rory helped herself to a handful too, getting comfy leaning over the counter. “Seriously. Women do it all the time.”
Sarah bent down to the cabinet below, coming up with a small bottle of Jack Daniels. She grabbed a glass from the cabinet that hung over our heads and began mixing a drink. “Then call me old fashioned. I still think the guy should have the balls to at least ask me out. Is that so wrong?”
“I suppose not.”
Rory tsked. “Doesn’t make you any less lonely though. And that boy looks like he’d be all sorts of fun in compromising positions.”
I practically choked on my chip, coughing repetitively to get it out from the wrong tube. When I looked up again, it wasn’t concern Sarah’s eyes were aiming my way. That devilish smile of hers was reappearing.
“I bet Brady would be too. So what’s up with that, Tessa?” she asked.
“Ooh, yes!” Rory chimed in, “Tells us about that!”
How in the hell had this turned around on me again?
“Www-what?” I finally got out. “He stopped by and showed me around a bit. It’s been forever since I’ve been here. He was just being neighborly.”
“Exactly how
neighborly are we talking here?” Rory interrogated suggestively. “What exactly did he show you?”
I threw a handful of Cheetos at her. “Nothing like that, you man-stealing whore.”
Rory’s lips spread wide as she sinfully giggled at my jab. “But you like him, don’t you?”
Now it was my turn to shake my head at the idiocy coming my way. I looked to Sarah, who cocked her eyebrows in amusement, loving that it was my turn to take the beating. Throwing my words back at me, she asked, “So why don’t you just ask him out? Hmm?”
“Because…” I said, dragging the word out. “I just met the guy. And if he’s interested, he’s clearly not in a rush to jump right in either, because I haven’t heard a peep out of him since Saturday night.”
“Nothing?!” Rory spat. “He took you out and you’ve heard nothing from him in three days?”
“He mentioned something about going to Britches Thursday night.”
“Ohhhhhh….” they both sang at the same time, looking to each other knowingly.
I redirected the Cheetos mid-flight to my mouth back from whence it came. “Ah, shit. What does that mean? That can’t mean anything good.”
Sarah waved off my concern. Rory just nodded along as Sarah said, “Nothing. He came up to the bar Sunday night and told us we hadn’t been to Britches in forever and that we should go as a group on Thursday.”
“You’re totally the reason he wants to go, because he’s never really wanted to go before,” Rory added, pointing her obnoxiously orange chip at me.
“Then why would he want to go now?”
“He probably wants to hang out with you again, but was too chicken shit to come right out and ask,” Rory explained. “So he’d rather get you to come out with us as “a group” so he can feel you out and see if you’re interested.”
“Ohh….” I sang myself this time.
“What?” they both asked.
“I kind of blew off asking him inside after he brought me home.” I had thought I was doing him a favor, not surrounding him with even more lilies that would sadden his mood. I never thought he’d take ending the night in the driveway as partial rejection. “That was when he brought up Britches.”
