by R. K. Ryals
I described the garden at the orchard, how I pictured it in my head—bursts of colors linked by the winding path, ending in flowers, a small backyard fountain, and a set of benches that Pops would have to get someone else to install.
After a moment, I realized Eli’s breathing was too deep. Too steady.
“Eli?”
Nothing. He’d fallen asleep.
Sleep made me brave. “I think I love you,” I told the phone.
Quietly, I hung up, satisfied knowing he’d just wanted to hear my voice.
Thursday
Deena made me run again.
Given the way my calf muscles still burned from the day before, I hated her. Or loved her, if my running with her again despite the pain was any indication.
Wait, I walked.
I’d be lying if I said I ran. I walked, calling out words of encouragement to her as we went.
“Thank you,” she told me afterward, her hands on her knees, her breath coming fast. “Thank you for doing this with me.”
“Hey,” I said, emotion welling up inside of me. I popped the band on my wrist. “I’m super proud of you, you know?”
She stared, her eyes brightening. “I was wrong, Tansy.”
“For what?”
“For blaming you for Dad. I’m not as angry as I was.”
Popping the band on my wrist again, I smiled and said, “I know.”
We moved on, past the moment. She returned to the rescue, calling out a greeting to Danny. I went to the orchard.
Two more plots had been cleared when my phone rang. It was the landscaping company. I hung up with them, smiling.
Later that night, when Eli’s name flashed on the screen, I answered it too quickly.
“I got the job,” I said in a rush. “With the landscaping company. I start next week. By then, I should be done with most of the big stuff at the orchard. The job is only three days a week to begin with. Luckily, they service a lot of businesses, so there’s plenty of work in the fall and winter, too. And they’re willing to work around whatever schedule I have at the school. Did I tell you I’d decided to go back? A two-year college in Atlanta to begin with.”
My words crashed together,
Eli chuckled. “Say that again. I didn’t catch the enthusiasm.”
“Asshole.”
“Last time I checked, I had one of those, too.”
I snorted, not so delicately.
The line grew quiet, and then, “You doing okay?” he asked “No more cutting?”
“Not much,” I answered, my heart clenching. “The desire to is still there, and I’ve made one new mark. Mostly, I’m okay.”
I’d been knitting a lot after I got off the phone with Eli at night, the activity keeping my hands busy. I was still knitting the sail from my dream, the one I’d had after Eli and I first met. I didn’t know why I kept working on it. People didn’t knit sails.
“What about you?” I asked.
He sighed, and it sounded like a roar over the line. “It’s been weird here. Mom’s behavior has been more erratic than usual. Jonathan says she walks the halls at night, murmuring things to herself. Pops called her therapist, but Mom refuses to speak to her. She’s taking the pills Pops gives her, but I’ve never seen her actually swallow them.”
I’d never heard Eli babble, so hearing him do it now, meant he was disturbed by the things his mother was doing.
“She started screaming the other night. It scared the shit out of all of us, but when we got to her room, she waved it off. Said it was a nightmare. I think Jonathan is ready to go home. Back to DC.”
“And you?”
“I don’t know. Despite all of that, I like being here. I like the work. Being near you.”
Something about his words made me think about the summer, about how fast the end of it was approaching.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered.
Silence.
“I’m going to be in a fight. Not this weekend but next. Against some guy named Duncan. It’s an amateur match for charity. You should come.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
We ended the call, each of us lost in our thoughts.
Friday
Deena ran.
I drove my car next to her, the driver’s side window down, music blaring. It was sprinkling outside, rain misting over her head.
“You’re pathetic,” Deena panted, throwing a look at the car.
Sipping the coffee I had in my free hand, I smiled. “At least I’m dry.” Eyes widening dramatically, I yelled, “Run, Deena! There’s a werewolf behind you, fangs dripping. If you don’t pick up your feet, you’re going to spend the next full moon in your room howling.”
“Is he cute?” Deena shouted.
“What?”
“The werewolf?”
I blinked. “You’re hopeless.”
A car honked behind me, and I stuck my head out the window, scowling. “Go around! My sister is training for greatness!”
Deena laughed, stumbling. It was a good thing she was almost done with her run.
Intermittent rain made it hard to do much at the orchard, so I took the paperwork I still needed to fill out for school. Sitting on the front porch of the main house, I filled out forms, setting them down whenever the rain stopped, and then coming back to them when it started again.
Rain: forms. Not raining: garden.
Sometime after lunch, I gave up, drove to town, and stopped at the small coffee shop. Taking a corner table, I drank a caramel macchiato and stared at the rain, anticipating the date I had with Eli the next day.
That night when the phone rang, the only thing Eli said was, “Tomorrow. 9 a.m. Pick me up?”
“That early?” I asked.
“I’m making it an all-day thing.”
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t dream once I fell asleep, Snow’s snout in my side, the knitted sail splayed over me.
FIFTY-TWO
Eli
Standing at the living room window, I watched Tansy’s Buick crawl down the orchard drive. She stopped twice, lifted her hands from the steering wheel, checked herself in the mirror, and then inched forward again.
She was nervous, and I wasn’t giving her the chance to back out.
Stepping onto the porch, I slid my hands into my blue jeans pockets, felt for the wallet, cigarettes, and pack of gum I’d slipped into them, and met the Buick in the yard.
Tansy’s gaze found mine through the car window, her eyes dropping to the untucked, button-up shirt and brand name jeans I wore.
Pushing the door open, she stepped out.
I inhaled sharply. She was a vision in a floral sundress, the chiffon overlay kissing her knees, and my gaze lingered there, lust and pride warring with softer emotions.
She glanced at the cottage. “That was too fast to be casual. You were watching for me.”
The wind blew, and the dress flirted with her thighs.
“I’m not giving you the chance to run away,” I told her.
“You thought I’d run?”
“I think if given the chance we both would.” My eyes fell to her feet, to a pair of strappy, high-heeled sandals.
She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, the movement and the heels drawing attention to her legs. “I put a pair of flats in the car just in case.”
My gaze traveled slowly up her frame, eating her up inch by inch. By the time I made it to her face she was blushing furiously.
“This is different for me.” She glanced down at the outfit. “Well, kind of. This is an older dress, and—”
“You look like a fallen angel who tempts men to sin, and then makes them feel good about being wicked.”
Her lips parted, her wide eyes locking with mine.
“You’re beautiful all of the time. Covered in soil, naked, or sunburnt. This is icing, roof girl,” he nodded at the dress, “but, rest assured, I’ve always preferred the cake.”
A surprised laugh escaped her. “That had
to be the most ridiculous, yet sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Stepping past her, I touched the car door she’d left open and flashed a grin. “It’s all about breaking the ice. Obviously, I’m open-minded. After all, I’m letting my date drive.”
Tansy sputtered, biting her lip to keep her laugh contained.
I wanted to nibble on that lip. Taste her. Be near her.
The first time we had sex, I’d been a distraction. She may never admit it, but I’d been aware of her need to get lost the moment my hand slammed the door shut, my body trapping hers against the wood.
Wanting her had been easy. Letting her get lost in me had been earth-shattering. Because, in the end, she’d stayed with me mentally rather than using the sex to forget other things. It surprised her. Hell, it surprised me.
We were going into this date with no distractions. Just me and her, and by the end of the day, we were either going to want each other or walk away.
Ducking into the car, she peered up at me. “Okay, roof boy, show me what you’ve got.”
I circled the car and climbed in next to her. “Let’s drive.”
We spent the first fifteen minutes in silence, with me pointing at turns she needed to take.
Once we hit the interstate, taking an exit that lead to a small town an hour and a half away, I leaned back. “It’s mostly a straight shot from here.”
Tansy threw glances at the passing road signs. “We’re not going to Atlanta?”
I bit back a smile. “You wanted to go to Atlanta?”
“No.” She looked at me askance. “I guess I assumed that’s where’d you take me. Distance and entertainment reasons.” She glanced at the passing trees.
“It’s too obvious,” I said, smirking. “Besides, no crowds today. No distractions, remember?”
“Did you do one of those quirky places to visit searches? Because I really don’t have any interest in seeing a giant peanut.”
“There’s a giant peanut in Georgia?” I asked, feigning surprise. “Then I guess you’ve heard of the world’s largest mattress in Jefferson. It’s about the size of seventy-two king-size mattresses.”
She snorted. “Whatever.” When I didn’t comment, she glanced at me. “You’re serious?” Her lips formed an O, a look of suspicion on her face. “Are we going there?”
“You can jump on it. Only you have to wear socks.”
Amusement transformed her, making her glow. “You’ve jumped on it before, haven’t you?”
“Nope. You caught me. I found it on one of those quirky places search. I mean, who doesn’t search world’s largest mattresses before going out on a date? Just imagine all of that space and all of the stuff we could do on it.”
She snickered. “I bet if you search world’s greatest bullshitter, your picture would pop up.”
“Right up there with jerkitude and assholery.” I threw her a smile. “But seriously, no world’s largest mattresses, no giant peanuts, and no quirky places to visit searches. Cross my heart.”
We fell silent, the passing scenery blurring, trapping us inside a green tunnel. Tansy, in her floral dress, was her own garden, growing brilliantly in the driver’s seat. She drove with her hands near the bottom of the steering wheel, sucking her cheeks in and blowing them out as she watched the road, a fish trying to figure out how to breathe, only she was way more beautiful than a fish.
The sun rose higher in the sky, turning the car into an oven.
Tansy fiddled with the air conditioner until it whirred around us, cool and startling.
Before she could touch the steering wheel again, I grabbed her right hand, lacing my fingers through hers.
Her gaze dropped to our joined palms and then returned to the road, her left hand clenching and unclenching the steering wheel.
Heat pooled between us, her skin hot against mine. My thumb caressed the top of her hand. Slowly. Deliberately.
She squirmed in her seat.
“Amazing what you can do with touch,” I murmured.
Silence.
“It’s nice,” she said finally. “Just holding on.”
I didn’t know anything about the science of hands, how many nerves they had hiding in them, but clasping hers had every single one of the nerves in mine singing. Looking down at our fingers, my sun-bronzed hand so much larger than hers, felt strangely disconcerting. As easy as it was to hold on to someone, it was just as easy to let go.
I loosened and unloosened my fingers around hers.
“It means more,” she looked at me, “knowing you can let go. Because you have a choice. Let go or keep holding.”
“I’m that obvious?” I asked.
She gave me a soft smile. “Kind of. What do you want to do? Hold on or let go?”
My hand tightened on hers.
Her smile grew.
In twenty years, I’d never talked to a girl about something as simple as hand holding. Truth be told, conversation hadn’t veered far from my typical bullshitting before ending in the bedroom. With Mandy, it had been about lust, money, clubs, and crowds.
My life in five words: boxing, parties, fucking, boats, and school.
“It’s so different from the city,” Tansy said suddenly, staring out the window. “Not that I don’t love the city. I love Atlanta. All of the places you can go, the city lights at night, the feel of the crowds, and knowing you can catch the MARTA and just go, you know? We did that a lot before my mom died. On her days off, she loved to go on adventures. Anywhere. She’d have us close our eyes, place our fingers on this city map we kept in the house, and just go wherever our fingers landed. It felt like we lived inside that map and those experiences.”
Tansy grinned, remembering. “Sometimes, when it would get late, when we were surrounded by lights and noise, by hot and cold air on our faces, and a million conversations swirling around us, I’d wonder what was beyond the city.”
“It depends on where you come from. Was your mom raised in the city?”
Tansy shook her head.
“I didn’t think so. You can tell by her excitement. People raised in the city always wonder what it’s like outside of it. People raised in the country always wonder what it’s like inside the city, to be a part of something so big.”
“Maybe. Where do you want to be one day … when you settle down?” she asked.
“The sea,” I answered. No hesitation.
“Is your grandfather rich enough to buy you an island?”
“Not even close, but even if he were, I wouldn’t let him. Notice I don’t have a problem with him supporting me now. But, in the end, when I’ve finished school, I plan to earn everything I’ve got. I’m just fortunate enough to have someone who can help support me while getting there.”
“You are that.”
Tansy had support, but not the kind I did. Her climb to success would be a lot harder than mine.
“You know, if—”
“Don’t even finish that thought,” she warned, smiling. “We all have different paths. Easy or hard, they’re ours. I don’t need help with mine, though I’m not going to pretend I don’t envy yours. You have a really awesome grandfather.”
“Your grandmother is pretty special, too.”
“Yeah, she is,” Tansy admitted. “She’d do more if I asked, but I kind of need to do this the hard way. It feels funny asking her for anything when she hasn’t been a part of our lives the last few years.”
No matter the drama with my mother and the horror my father had brought into our lives, my pops had always been there.
Tansy’s hand tightened in mine. “If you’re feeling guilty, don’t. We’re not playing the ‘whose life is better or worse’ game. I hate when people do that. Rich, poor, or middle-class, we’ve all got problems. We’ve all got secrets and shit in our pasts. I can think of a handful of people off the top of my head who have it worse than me, and another handful who have it better. It doesn’t change things.” She glanced at me. “It doesn’t change who you choose to be frien
ds with ... together with.”
My gaze slid to the road. “You’re going to take the next exit. That awesome grandfather of mine also has some awesome friends.”
“Oh, this is going to be extravagant, isn’t it?”
I laughed. “Actually, not as much as you think.”
Releasing my hand, she took the exit.
“Left,” I told her.
Turning, she drove a few miles down the road, before I said, “Stop there!”
She swung into a parking lot, peered up at the old brick building in front of us, and gawked. “A grocery store?”
Letting myself out of the car, I walked around the Buick, and pulled her door open. “Perfect get to know each other date. Are you more a meats and vegetables kind of girl, or do you prefer processed, microwaveable stuff?”
Climbing out, she grinned. “Ramen noodles. That shit’s all affordable. If you want something different, just stir in a little cheese or experiment with spices. That was before. Since moving in with my grandmother, it’s been a lot of casseroles.”
Placing my hand on the small of her back, I nudged her gently. “Come, let’s find something non-ramen and non-casserole.”
Shaking with silent laughter, she walked ahead of me, heels clicking against the pavement. I enjoyed the view, the way the dress clung to her curves while swinging softly against her legs.
Refrigerated air whooshed over us when the doors opened, the scarred tile polished to shine, and the smell of deli goods thick in the air.
Grabbing one of the baskets they kept near the shopping carts, I headed for the deli section.
“This is weird.” Tansy scrunched her nose. “I mean, not that I think you’ve never been in a grocery store, but … are you one of those guys who looks all tough but turns out to be a closet chef? You’re taking me to some restaurant, aren’t you? Where your grandfather knows people so that you can suddenly commandeer the kitchen and whip up greatness.”
“Again … too extravagant, and I can’t cook worth a damn. Unless you count frozen pizzas.”
Entering the deli section, I plunked cheese and sliced deli meat into the basket.
