And Then He Kissed Me

by Kim Amos

  The boys were gathered around a bright red SuperLow, a motorcycle that reminded Audrey of the movie Easy Rider. They were smiling, pointing at different features, and of course pretending to hump the back tire.

  Typical.

  She strode forward. “Boys,” she said, just as one of them—Braden Acola, if she remembered correctly—pretended to jerk off one of the long handlebars. Their howls of laughter faded as she approached. “These machines aren’t toys. Either you act respectfully around them, or I’ll need to ask you to leave.”

  She looked from Braden to Cody Sims to Hunter Haglund. All faces she knew. They stared back at her—or at least at parts of her. Their open-faced, teenage ogling was almost humorous. Almost.

  “Ms. Tanner, you work here now?” This question was from Cody, whose white-blond hair flopped so far forward it was nearly hanging in his eyes.

  “I do,” she replied, thinking that they knew this already. She gritted her teeth. Was it wrong that she just wanted them out of here? She could be as altruistic about it as she wanted, but deep down she hated this mixing of her past and present.

  She lowered her voice in her best I-am-the-teacher tone. “Unless one of you is going to buy a motorcycle today, then you need to stop goofing off and leave.”

  The boys didn’t move. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping us?” Braden asked. His round face and thick body reminded Audrey how much she’d had to push him to do anything in gym class. “Aren’t we your customers now?” He smirked at Cody and the two of them burst into laughter.

  The third one, Hunter Haglund, stayed stone still. He was a sharp-jawed kid who hadn’t spoken much in gym class. Audrey had remembered thinking he was a good, quiet kid who was sometimes too serious. It was a fact that was evidenced now by his furrowed brow and dark look.

  “You’re only customers if you buy something,” Audrey said. “And I’m not sure you can afford anything in here.”

  “Hunter can.” Braden smirked. “He’s a customer.”

  “Yeah,” Cody added. “Hunter wants a bike.”

  Audrey studied Hunter again, this time taking in his crisp shirt, his jeans that probably cost more than she made in a month. It reminded her that the Haglunds lived up by Willa. Hunter’s dad was a…surgeon, maybe? He worked in medicine, anyway, practicing nearer to Minneapolis.

  “Then perhaps Hunter should talk to a sales manager while you two wait outside,” she said.

  “We could wait with you,” Cody said, his eyes shining with laughter. “Seems like you have a super cool job now. You could tell us about it.” He and Braden cracked up all over again. Audrey inhaled, ready to give them her best I’m-still-the-teacher lecture when Hunter intervened.

  “Knock it off,” he said. His eyes were obsidian with seriousness. His friends wiped the smirks off their faces immediately. “We’re leaving.”

  Hunter turned his dark gaze to Audrey. She wanted to thank him for his maturity, but instead found that a cold prickle of unease rendered her wordless. This quiet, introverted boy had just helped her, and here she was, muted with something she couldn’t explain. She gave him a small smile instead, the best she could do, and watched as the three boys exited the showroom.

  When the door closed shut behind them, she gripped the nearby motorcycle and steeled her resolve. Those boys were the first students to come ogle her, but they wouldn’t be the last. She straightened her posture while mentally recalling her list of all the tricks she knew to get kids to pay attention, to listen, and even to fear her if needed. She’d be darned if, next time, she was anything except ready.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  That Saturday, Audrey turned her face to the sun as she walked to meet her sister for lunch. Her new wedges—a burnished silver color that glinted in the light—were from Willa, as were the hip-hugging jeans and her designer T-shirt.

  Her friend had given them to her, along with a pile of other fashions, claiming she was getting rid of many of the clothes she’d bought when she’d lived in New York. “Early on in New York.” Willa had laughed, her emerald eyes sparkling. “I’ve gained weight since then.”

  Audrey had tried to refuse. After all, these were designer clothes—they must have been worth a fortune. But Willa had insisted, and Audrey had finally accepted, admitting she was ready for a wardrobe change.

  The clothes were more form-fitting than what she was used to (everything was, compared with yoga pants and track jackets), but the expensive material landed on her curves just right, helping Audrey feel the same boldness she did in her dealership attire without showing all the skin. Audrey had taken time today to apply some makeup as well. Again, not as much as what she wore at the dealership, but even a little gave her a sense of boldness from the inside out. It wasn’t the makeup per se, but the idea that she could change if she wanted to. She wondered if this was what it was like to feel beautiful—an in-your-skin kind of power that had her wondering what this new version of herself was capable of.

  She hummed a little as she approached the Paul Bunyan Diner. The awnings on Main Street flapped in the breeze, and the scent of warm soil and new grass was everywhere. Bonnie Lufson slid a wooden asparagus into the window of Loon Call Antiques, its smiling face reminding Audrey that in another two weeks, the White Pine Asparagus Festival would be in full swing. The trees lining the sidewalk would be wrapped in green crepe paper, kids would careen around with their faces painted green and asparagus crowns on their heads, and the local restaurants would begin serving their custom dishes: asparagus pasta, asparagus focaccia, asparagus pizza, asparagus ice cream, and, of course, her favorite, asparagus beer.

  Not even the experience of Kieran could dim her love for the Asparagus Festival. She smiled to herself until she spotted Evelyn Beauford a few yards ahead, walking right toward her. The sight of the older woman, her pale blue coat flapping behind her like wings, sent Audrey’s stomach sinking. She still didn’t have a replacement for her role on the Good Shepherd Walk committee, and she was sure her lack of backup meant she was going to have to just suck it up and do it again this year.

  As the older woman got closer, Audrey steeled herself for the inevitable. She stood waiting for a wave, a smile—any sign of recognition—to begin the dreaded conversation, but it never came. When Evelyn was just a few feet away, it hit her: She didn’t recognize Audrey.

  Whether it was the clothes, the hair, the makeup—or a combination of all three—it didn’t matter. Audrey suppressed a giggle as she turned her back and pretended to be window-shopping at Loon Call Antiques. Evelyn Beauford walked right past her without so much as a glance.

  Audrey stood there for a moment until she was sure the older woman wasn’t going to turn back. Then she let out a chuckle and headed for the Paul Bunyan Diner, wondering if anyone else would fail to recognize her, and feeling excited about the prospect.

  * * *

  The cowbell over the door of the Paul Bunyan Diner clunked as Audrey entered. She took note of the giant stuffed asparagus propped up next to the hostess station as she slid into a knotty pine booth and smiled at her sister. “I’m so glad we could meet up!” she said, reaching across the white ceramic coffee cups to take her sibling’s hands.

  Casey started to reply, then stopped. Audrey watched the hard lines around her sister’s mouth deepen with shock. Casey pulled her hands back as if she needed them to steady herself.

  “What happened to you?” Casey asked. She glanced around the diner as if she thought one of the other customers might have an answer for her—or perhaps the rusty saws or old frying pans on the walls might talk, or the gingham curtains over the windows could offer some enlightenment. Audrey followed her sister’s gaze, thinking how they both might share the same dark brown eyes and hair, but that her sister’s face had been shaped by more cares and worries. It was all too visible in the wrinkles around her sister’s eyes, the stubborn thrust of her jaw, and the strain in her neck. A thousand spa treatments for a thousand years might never ease this look off Casey’s f
ace; it was part of her now.

  “You don’t even look like yourself,” Casey whispered, as if trying to keep Audrey’s new look a secret. “Are you all right? I have some workout clothes in the car. You could change into those if you need to.”

  Audrey blinked. She’d expected her sister to have some comments about her new look, but she was surprised at how vehemently Casey seemed to think it was a mistake.

  “I got these clothes on purpose,” Audrey said, trying to make her voice light. “And I did my makeup like this intentionally, too. I kind of like it. It’s better than the old lip stain, right?”

  She smiled at Casey, willing her to remember the cheap gloss they’d bought when they were teenagers, just ahead of the homecoming dance. They hoped the makeup would make them more noticeable, so that at least one of them would get asked to go. The gloss had dyed both their lips a red bright red that they’d loved at the time, thinking it was glamorous. A few weekends ago, however, they’d pulled out pictures from that time, catching sight of their clown-looking lips and laughing so hard that they could hardly breathe.

  Audrey wanted Casey to laugh, to make a reference to Bozo, to pretend to squirt water from an imaginary flower in her lapel. Instead, Casey’s eyes roamed from Audrey’s styled hair to the form-fitting T-shirt to the sparkling silver bangles on her wrist. The perpetual V-shaped wrinkle between her eyebrows grew more prominent.

  “Why would you do all this?” she asked.

  “I’m shaking things up,” Audrey replied, grabbing the menu and pretending to study the breakfast options. “A little change will do me good.”

  “If you’re trying to find long-term employment, then I don’t think this is a good—”

  “Do yah know what you want today?” the waitress asked, interrupting the conversation.

  “Coffee,” Casey answered briskly, “one egg over hard, and rye toast with margarine on the side.”

  The waitress jotted it all down, then looked at Audrey. “What can I get for…”

  She stopped in mid-sentence, her pen poised. “Audrey Tanner, for gosh sakes, is that you?”

  Audrey smiled up at Pauline, who had worked at the diner for years. “Sure is,” she replied, “in the flesh.”

  “Well, my goodness. Don’t you look glamorous!”

  “Thank you,” she replied with a pointed look at Casey, as if to say See, other people think I look just fine.

  Pauline’s bright blue eyes squinted with happiness. “Really. You look great. I mean, you always did, but you’re just fantastic now.”

  Audrey felt her cheeks pink with the compliment. “You’re being too kind.”

  “Am not,” Pauline insisted. “Cripes, looking like that, you should throw your hat into the ring for Asparagus Queen this year. It’s always a pretty young thing that wins it.”

  Audrey smiled. She’d watched the contest for years now. Women between the ages of twenty-four and forty would line up onstage, talk about how much they loved White Pine and what they’d do for the community as queen, and a panel of locals would pick the winner. The queen got a satin sash, an asparagus bouquet, and a thousand dollars in prize money.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Audrey said, “but I think I’ll forgo any pageant gowns just now. I will take a Paul Bunyan omelet with a glass of orange juice, though.”

  Pauline winked at her. “You got it.”

  When they were alone again, Casey took a deep breath. “There’s a job opening in Eagan, not too far from where I live. I already talked to the assistant principal about it. It’s head track coach, boys and girls, but there’s no teaching—only coaching. They’re top of their division and you get an assistant coach, plus athletics has its own secretary. You’d have administrative support as well as coaching staff.”

  Casey finished just as Pauline came back to pour coffee and drop off Audrey’s orange juice. Audrey was grateful for the interruption because she wasn’t sure what to say.

  Of all the scenarios she’d imagined when she got fired from her job, her least favorites were the ones that had her leaving White Pine. Her stomach twisted at the thought. But what else could she do? She couldn’t stay at the dealership forever, dressed in leather and working with Kieran Callaghan. But could she really put on her old track pants and go back to coaching again?

  I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up, Audrey thought.

  “Well?” Casey asked after a minute. “What do you think?”

  Audrey took a steadying breath. “Thank you for looking out for me,” she said. “I am so grateful for the help, but I’m not sure I’m ready to pack up and leave White Pine. Losing my job was hard, but it’s also given me time to—I don’t know, explore my options. I think I’ll always want to teach and be around people, but maybe there are other ways to do that besides coaching.”

  “Nonsense,” Casey said, waving a hand. “You have a master’s degree and you need to put it to use. You can always stay with me until you get settled.” When Audrey didn’t answer right away, Casey reached for her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “But if you simply had to stay in White Pine, you could always commute.”

  Audrey considered this, wondering if she’d be happy spending so much time in her beige car every day. She thought about the crowded school hallways and the anemic paychecks. Was that what she wanted? She stared at her orange juice, unsure.

  “You’re not glad we live far apart, are you?” Casey asked after a moment. Her tone was teasing, but Audrey could hear the concern just underneath.

  When Casey had first moved to Eagan for her accounting job, Audrey would have happily considered abandoning White Pine altogether. She’d missed her sister terribly, an ache that for a long time didn’t want to subside. But Casey’s absence had forced her to branch out in her friendships, and eventually she’d reconnected with her high-school pals Betty, Stephanie, and Anna—and then Willa. The separation from her sister had forced her to expand her family, and she had a new sisterhood as a result. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to walk away from that, especially when she was still in the process of figuring out what she wanted to do next.

  “I don’t want us to be separated by miles and miles,” Audrey hedged. “I just wonder if I can make a go of it here.”

  “Doing what, exactly?”

  Audrey shifted in the wooden booth. “That’s the thing. I may have found employment for right now. The pay is good, by the way.”

  “Is it teaching?”

  “It’s more like sales.” She stared at the scalloped edges of her paper placemat. “At the new Harley dealership in town.”

  Casey went very still. “Where Kieran works?”

  “He’s there, yes.”

  Casey eyed her sharply as Pauline delivered their food. Audrey picked up her fork, but her sister’s hawk-like gaze was quickly eroding her appetite.

  “Audrey. Whatever game you think you’re playing, just stop now. You need to leave that job immediately. Kieran Callaghan was bad news the first time around, and nothing has changed.”

  Maybe I’ve changed, Audrey thought, staring at her puffy, golden omelet.

  “Kieran’s not an issue,” she said. She wanted to believe it.

  Casey scraped a tiny amount of margarine over her toast. “No, he’s trouble. He is going nowhere fast, and you shouldn’t let him take you down, too.”

  Audrey’s insides sank. Casey had given her the same lecture before—after Casey had met Kieran for the first time. Casey had grilled him about his past, about how much he had in his savings account, even chiding him at one point about not having a Roth IRA. Kieran had played it cool, but Audrey had been mortified.

  Later, she’d confronted Casey, saying she didn’t care what Kieran looked like on paper, that her feelings for him wouldn’t be swayed. Casey had fought right back, saying Audrey was making a terrible decision that she’d regret soon enough.

  To her credit, when Kieran left, Casey had never once said “I told you so.”

  Audre
y set down her fork. “Kieran aside, the hours are good and it pays well. And I think I can make a difference there.”

  “Doing what, exactly?”

  “Well, a few days ago, for example, there was this woman who came in and no one spoke to her. Not one salesman. So I went over and helped her as much as I could, which wasn’t a ton, but at least I talked to her. And I was thinking this dealership isn’t targeting women very well as a point of sale. So what if I got some training—”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Audrey, just stop right there. You are not going to spend your time thinking about how a motorcycle dealership can sell bikes to women. It’s ridiculous.”

  Audrey bit the inside of her cheek. It hadn’t felt ridiculous when she’d thought of it. In fact, the only reason she hadn’t moved forward with pursuing her idea was because Kieran, who had promised her riding lessons, had been racing from meeting to meeting, taking lunches with executives, and even getting his hands dirty in the service bays while he chatted with mechanics. She figured she’d use their lesson time to pitch the idea of women’s sales to him, only there hadn’t been any lesson time. Yet.

  “I know it might sound a little odd,” Audrey admitted, “or at least very different from what I’ve been doing, but I think this position could work.”

  “Right. Because everything you do around Kieran works out so well for you, doesn’t it?”

  Audrey stared at her food, silent, until Casey set down her fork and folded her hands. “Come on,” Casey said, “look at me.”

  Audrey raised her eyes and found her sister’s matching pair, shining with concern and love, staring back. “I know I sound like a jerk,” Casey continued, “but I’m worried about you. Losing your job was tough, but you’re talented and hardworking. I don’t want to see you throw away good opportunities so you can stay in White Pine and get hurt all over again. At least, if you stay, find something else besides that awful dealership with him inside of it.”