Chaos and Control

by Season Vining

  “You mean infamous,” she corrects.

  “That, too.” I laugh and nod. “What do you think Preston is up to today?”

  “He spends most Sundays in the workshop.”

  “Hmm,” I answer, making a note to check out that space at some point. I wonder if I could talk him into letting me watch him work.

  A group of guys walks by, all toned and tanned. They’ve got big smiles for me. One even waves. I nod back, remaining indifferent to their attention.

  “Man, boys that age didn’t look like that in my day. They were all skinny with big hair and stonewashed jeans.”

  “How come you’re still single, Bennie?”

  She folds her book closed, her index finger inside marking her spot. “I don’t know. I guess I just never found anyone who really got me.”

  “My guess is you would have to look outside of Crowley to find that,” I say.

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just a lonely soul, looking for love in all the wrong places.”

  “If you break into that ridiculous 1980s Johnny Lee song right now, I’m going to throw your book in the lake.”

  Bennie clutches the paperback to her chest protectively. “You wouldn’t!”

  “I would.”

  “Oh, all right. I won’t sing. But, that was one hell of a soundtrack. Don’t you think?”

  I flip over and untie the strings of my top, tucking them beneath my body.

  “The soundtrack to Urban Cowboy? No. What I think is that you have a huge crush on John Travolta, even when he plays a sexist man-pig cowboy.”

  “I won’t deny that.”

  “Aren’t you hot in all those clothes, Bennie?”

  “No, I’m comfortable. And I’m an old lady. Nobody wants to see this in a swimsuit.”

  I pull up onto my elbows and frown at her. “What is it with you and age? You’re forty-two, not dead. Fuck everybody else. I say do what makes you happy.”

  Bennie eyes me, and a sly smirk pulls across her face. “You mean like flashing your tits to everyone at the lake?”

  I look down and remember that I’d untied my top. I drop back onto the blanket as we both burst into a fit of giggles. We laugh until we are breathless and there are tears in our eyes.

  When the clouds do show up, we lie on our backs and play our favorite old game. The sun is still up when we leave, so I put my shorts back on, but stay in just my bikini top. I leave the window rolled down the whole drive back. My arm hangs out the window, and the wind blasts my eyes closed. I smell like grass and sunshine.

  At the top of the stairs, Bennie makes a joke about me flashing my boobs out at the lake, and we laugh again. Around the corner, we find Preston leaving his apartment. Bennie walks right past him as he locks his door and tests the knob six times. When he turns to find me standing there, his expression changes. Those eyes scan my body and stay fixed on the tattoo visible above my shorts.

  “Hi, Preston.”

  He looks edible in all black—jeans low on his hips, belt, vintage button up shirt with white piping, and boots.

  “Hey,” he answers. I see him swallow, and his fingers twitch. Other than that, Preston remains motionless.

  “So, I missed you last night. I had to get drunk Bennie home all by myself.” I look toward her door, and she’s already slipped inside and disappeared.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I was…busy.” His gaze is still fixed on my ink.

  “Remember the list, Preston.”

  “I’m not lying.” He finally meets my eyes, and there is obvious panic.

  I take a step toward him.

  “Did you come by early last night?”

  He doesn’t say a word, but after a few seconds nods. His eyes look dark and dangerous in the overhead lighting. There are harsh shadows cast across his pretty face.

  “Did you see me outside with Sawyer?”

  He looks away. The muscles in his jaw twitch. “I don’t want to play games, Wren.”

  “Then tell me the truth. I always want the truth,” I say, taking another step toward him. He is on one side of the hall, and I stand directly across from him. The space is tight.

  “Yes,” he says. “I saw you there with him. It looked…intimate.”

  I reach over and place my hand on his forearm, sliding my fingers down to intertwine with his.

  “Nothing happened.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do say so, Preston. Nothing happened between Sawyer and me, and nothing will.”

  “I didn’t wait around to find out,” Preston answers. “But I did listen at my door to make sure you got home safely.”

  I nod. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “Well, I have to go.”

  “Where are you off to, Preston-who-spies-on-me?”

  He is quiet for a while. I’ve learned that this is his method. He is thinking and overthinking, debating the pros and cons of spilling some kind of confession.

  “Coffee Call.”

  “Really? That’s great. Can I come? Are you going to read your work?”

  “No. I’m just going to check it out.”

  “No to which question?”

  “You can come if you’d like, but I’d rather go alone.” Preston sees my disappointment and works to explain himself. “This is something new for me, Wren. I need to go by myself. Plus, if I freak out and have to leave, I’d rather you not be there for that.”

  I nod and look at Bennie’s wide-open door. I drop Preston’s hand and pick up my bag from the floor.

  “I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow, and you can tell me all about it.” I force a smile on my face and head for the door.

  “Good night, Wren.”

  “Good night, Preston.”

  Ink

  Permanent purple ink

  Over ribs and flesh of hips

  Ribbons of black and rounds of gold

  No straight lines on her curves

  Flowing flowering beauty in an

  Asymmetric pattern

  Interrupted by clothing

  I want to peel away

  Like the skin of a fruit

  Every negative association

  With this needled practice

  Is forgotten as my eyes

  Trace and follow and wonder

  How it feels beneath my fingertips

  This brand, this embellishment

  Sinks and swells with her breaths

  As does my infatuation

  - Preston

  Chapter Twelve

  Renegades

  I’m startled from another nightmare by a loud ringing noise. At first I think it’s my alarm, but I remember I never set one. It continues for a few seconds and then stops. I hear Bennie’s footsteps and then a knock at my door.

  “Yeah?”

  She opens the door and sticks her head through. “There’s a phone call for you.”

  “What? Here? You still have a landline? Who is it?”

  “Yes, I still have a landline. Come on. It’s some guy.”

  I grumble and fight my way free from the covers. Bennie points to the pantry. I step inside and pick up the hanging receiver.

  “Hello?” The line is silent. “Hellooooo?” I sing.

  “Wren, baby,” the voice says. “It’s so good to hear your voice.”

  I feel like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over my head. My heart stops in my chest, my lungs won’t take in air. I’m trembling. I hold the phone away from my face, sure that he can somehow reach me through the line.

  “I know you’re there, baby. Answer me,” the voice says again.

  I don’t answer him. I step to the base, slam the phone down, and back away from it. I don’t even realize I’ve crossed the room until my back hits the opposite wall. I slide down, landing hard on my butt.

  “Wren? Wrenie, what’s the matter?” My vision is blurred, unable to focus on anything. I can barely make out Bennie’s face in front of mine. She grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “Wrenie, I’m here. What is it?”<
br />
  I clasp my shaking hands together and press them between my knees. I force deep, slow breaths in and exhale. I feel nauseated, like the room is spinning. Finally, I close my eyes and count down from ten. When I reach one, she’s still there, waiting for an answer.

  “You called me Wrenie,” I whisper.

  “That’s who we are, Bennie and Wrenie.” She sits on the floor next to me, her legs stretched out in front of us. I give her my best smile and feel my pulse returning to normal. I’m here with her. I’m safe. “Do you want to tell me what that phone call was about?”

  I don’t meet her eyes and shake my head. I can tell she’s not happy with my answer, but Bennie lets it go. I know I can’t hold on to this secret forever, but I am grateful for whatever time she gives me. She stands and stares at me as she silently prepares her coffee. The only sound is the clinking of her spoon against the ceramic mug. I feel like she can see every skeleton scratching to get out of my closet.

  I squeeze my trembling fingers into fists and force more deep breaths into my lungs. Dylan’s voice echoes in my head, fluttering around like a spooky noise in the night. It jars me from my place on the floor. I jump up and hurry toward my room.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” I mumble. “Save me some coffee, please.”

  She nods, and I can feel her gaze on me until I’m across the kitchen and safely behind my door. I lean against it and claw at the wood, fighting the tears that threaten to fall. I tell myself not to be afraid of him, not to let him make me a hostage again. I convince myself that he’s halfway across the country. But there is that nagging voice pointing out the GPS device from my bag and the fact that he has Bennie’s phone number.

  I grab the snow globe from my windowsill and hold it up in the light. It’s such a peaceful scene, so tranquil. The memories from that day flash through my mind. It was a cool, sunny day. Seagulls squawked overhead as we leaned against the railing and watched the rushing water fall over the edge. We were all smiles and sweet flirting, completely infatuated with each other.

  It was the calm before the storm. I shake up the globe in anger and set it back down, trying to hold on to the last bit of my strength.

  After my shower, I sit on my bed, staring at the wall separating me from Preston. All I can think about is seeing him. This intrusion of Dylan into my small-town escape is enough to have me thrown off guard. But I don’t let him win. I make myself get dressed, I force myself to stay calm. I stare at this wall, willing Preston to know that, despite feeling strong right now, I need him.

  “Wren?” Bennie says through the door. Her voice is accompanied by a soft, hesitant knock.

  I walk to the door and open it to find her worried face on the other side.

  “Yeah?”

  “I was going to go spend some time with Laney again. Unless you need me here?”

  With that little question, she is asking me for answers without actually asking. This is one of my favorite things about Bennie.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”

  “Not yet,” I beg.

  Bennie nods. “I’ll give you a couple of days, but that’s it.”

  “Thanks, Ben. More man bashing today?”

  Bennie gives me a smile. “Something like that.”

  “Go on. Have fun. I’ll find some way to entertain myself.”

  “Okay, kid.”

  She gives me a nod and is out the door before I can change my mind. I let out a breath and slump against the wall. It’s Monday, so the shop is closed. I can’t see Preston that way. Looks like I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.

  In the hall, I knock on Preston’s door and wait. Music pounds through the walls; all I can make out are heavy bass beats. It’s a full minute before he opens the door. It’s the exact same scene as last Monday. He is in a black beater and gym shorts and glistening with sweat. He hasn’t shaved yet, and I want to scrape my nails across that stubble. This time he has a towel in one hand. I stand there, silent, as he wipes his face and chest down.

  “What exactly are you doing in there?” I ask. The unmistakable lyrics and heavy guitar riffs of Rage Against the Machine spill into the hall and give my words a pulse.

  Preston shakes his head as if he’s not going to answer, but then he does. “Just working out.”

  “Every Monday?” I step toward his door.

  “Every day,” he answers.

  I take another step and now stand within arm’s reach. He doesn’t stink like a sweaty gym sock. He smells like man and a sweetness that I want to know more intimately.

  “Did you need something, Wren?”

  I shove my hands in my pockets and take a deep breath. “I just, uh, I wanted to see if you could hang out today. But I mean, you don’t have to. You’re busy, I’m sure. Bennie’s gone, and I don’t want to be alone.”

  Preston frowns at me, his brows dipping heavily over concerned eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Why? I’m fine,” I say. I meet his gaze in an effort to convince him. I try to ignore what a hypocrite I am, demanding the truth from everyone while I hide behind my own lies.

  “Well, I leave for my appointment at 12:15 and won’t be back until after three o’clock.”

  “Oh,” I say, retreating. I shrug and look back toward Bennie’s apartment. “I didn’t realize that was every Monday.”

  He nods and moves forward when I move away.

  “But, you could come with me to Franklin,” he offers. “If you could find something to do while I’m at my appointment, we could hang out after?”

  His words shoot through me like sun through gray clouds. I am warmed and overjoyed by his offer. I can’t help the smile that lights up my face.

  “I’d love to.”

  Preston returns my smile and wraps the towel around his fist before unwinding it again.

  “Okay,” he says. “Don’t be late. I have to leave at 12:15.” Preston taps his watch.

  “I won’t be late.”

  “Good. I’ll see you at 12:15.”

  “You certainly will, Preston-who-works-out-every-day.”

  He chuckles as his gray eyes shine in the ambient light from the hallway. I head back toward Bennie’s as he pokes his head into the hall and watches. When I reach her door, I spin and face him once more.

  “Oh, and Preston? Don’t shave today.”

  His look of confusion is the last thing I see before entering the apartment and closing the door between us. I lean against it and smile to myself. This longing for him, this hunger for Preston, seems to multiply every time I see him. I feel like I can never get enough. He’s in my thoughts, in my dreams, the memory of his lips and hands on me burned into my skin. Though I know my infatuation doesn’t come close to the inner torment he goes through, I want to understand it more. I sigh and wonder if his obsessions are anything like this.

  …

  “Do you hear a ticking sound? I think I hear a ticking,” Preston says.

  We’re both quiet, listening to the sound of his truck on the road to Franklin.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t hear anything.”

  Preston frowns. His eyes squint as if this helps him to hear better.

  “Maybe a valve is sticking. Or it could be the U-joint. I’ll have to check it tonight.”

  I nod as we pull into the parking lot and come to a stop.

  “So, I’ll pick you up right here around three,” he says.

  Preston puts the truck in park and opens his door. I hold up my hand to stop him.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to get out. I’ll get my own door this time.” I give him a wink and slide out of the truck, closing the door behind me. With the window rolled down, I stack my forearms there and lean back into the truck. “See you at three.”

  I turn and make my way into the shopping center. I can feel his possessive glare burning through me. How does my ass look in these jeans? Is my walk sexy or just awkward? Am I
trying too hard? I look over my shoulder when I reach the door. As I suspected, Preston has one arm thrown over the back of the bench seat and one hand on the steering wheel. He is watching me with no apology. I slip inside the store and lean against the glass door in relief. This guy makes me question everything I ever thought I knew about myself. It’s refreshing and terrifying.

  Because I was here last week, I don’t really need anything. So, I wander around from store to store, browsing, and willing time to pass more quickly. I grab a slice of greasy pizza for lunch and take a seat at one of the empty tables in the food court. After piling on extra cheese and red pepper, I fold the slice in half and take a huge bite. With a mouth full of cheese and pepperoni, I hear a familiar voice.

  “Wren?”

  I look up to find Laney Daniels staring down at me. She’s pushing a stroller, leaning on it like the sleep-deprived, exhausted mother she is. Her hair is a knotted mess, and there’s a bright orange stain on the front of her shirt.

  “Hi, Laney,” I say before looking around for Bennie. “Who’s this?”

  She glances down at the kid in the stroller and back to me. “This is James, Jr.”

  “Hey, JJ.” I offer my finger to the kid, and he wraps his chubby little fingers around it. “Where’s Bennie?” I ask.

  Laney frowns at me and shrugs. “That’s a great question, Wren. Where is Bennie?”

  “I thought she was with you today.”

  “Today? I haven’t heard from or seen Bennie in months. Not since Jack, Jr.’s first birthday party. It’s like she fell off the damn planet.” Laney’s hands flail around as she gets more and more agitated. “I mean, here I am, going through this divorce, restarting my life at forty-two, and my best friend is nowhere to be found.”

  “Oh,” is all I say. My insides tighten as I think about Bennie lying to me.

  Laney takes a deep breath and blows her overgrown bangs from her eyes. She seems to calm herself as JJ lets go of my finger.

  “When you see her, please tell her to call me. I just, well, I could really use a friend right now. You know?” I stay quiet and nod. “It’s good to see you, Wren.”

  “You, too.”

  With barely a wave, she is gone, pushing the stroller toward the parking lot. I watch her retreat in her sweatpants and stained T-shirt and am hurt that Bennie lied to me. Twice. I want to be angry with her, but find it easier to blame myself. This is my fault. I should have never left Crowley. My leaving has done irreparable damage to our relationship.