Slightly Off Balance

by Kaylie Hunter

  “Huh,” I shrugged.

  I picked up the last pair of underwear, but they didn’t look like underwear to me. With the handles of the bag looped through my arm, I held them up and was turning them to figure out what body parts went where.

  Reel took the undies, turning them around and 90 degrees clockwise to show me which way they went.

  “No way,” I blushed, looking at the crotchless panties in a big-girl’s size.

  “Never seen crotchless panties?” Reel asked.

  “It’s not that,” I said, shaking my head. “Mrs. Crookburn gave me this pair.”

  Mrs. Crookburn was a retired teacher, very retired. She was pushing the hundred-year mark and still drove, despite the fact that Uncle Mike had pulled her license two decades ago.

  Reel looked at the panties he was holding and laughed. Laughed. I hadn’t heard him laugh since we were kids. Back then, Reel laughed all the time.

  “Go, Mrs. Crookburn,” he said, tossing the panties into the bag.

  After checking one last time to make sure I had picked everything up, I started walking again. “Sorry about trampling you. I have to be off now.”

  “You’re heading to the church resale store?” Reel asked, jogging to catch up.

  “They close early on Fridays,” I nodded, turning left to cross the street.

  “I’ll go with you. I just bought a house and need some things.”

  “You bought a house in Pine Valley? Why? You’re always out of town for work.”

  “I’ve been thinking of cutting back on the security jobs and staying home more.”

  After a tour with the Army, Reel had taken a job with a security firm that hired him to protect celebrities and other rich people. It required him to travel often, so he had never moved out of his father’s house, even though he was two years older than me.

  Rod had never moved out either, but with their father being the town drunk, I figured Rod stayed to keep him out of trouble. I also thought that Rod and Reel were the ones paying the bills, so really, Everett lived with his sons.

  “I’m sure your family will love having you home more,” I nodded.

  Reaching the store, Reel held the door open for me to walk through. I went straight to the register, dumping the ripped bag on the counter.

  “I was hoping to see you today, Tweedle,” Gail smiled warmly. “I heard everyone in town was buying you bloomers. We have several women that could make good use of them.”

  “I’m not sure all of them would be appropriate to hand out. Some of them might be a bit X-rated.”

  “Yes,” Gail nodded, holding up the pair of crotchless panties. “I’ll definitely sort them first.”

  “Deanna,” Reel called out. “Help me pick out curtains.”

  I meandered around a rack and stopped beside Reel looking at a large selection of curtains.

  “What room are you shopping for?”

  “The kitchen and living room. The kitchen is big and square, almost identical to your aunt Carol’s. The living room is combined with the dining room and has six oversized windows like your mother’s house.”

  “What colors are in your kitchen?”

  Reel looked at me, confused.

  “The counters, the flooring, the walls? What colors?”

  “The floor is wood planked, and the counters are tan.”

  “And the walls?”

  “White.”

  “Go with either the light blue or the bright yellow.”

  “Which do you like better?”

  “The blue,” I nodded. “And look, they have matching dish towels too.”

  Reel started loading up all the blue kitchen curtains and towels, and Gail brought over one of the two mini shopping carts for him to dump everything into.

  “Gail, do you still have the cream and navy satin curtains that my mother donated a few months back?”

  “They’re in the back,” Gail sighed.

  “Why are they in the back? Are they on hold?”

  “I was saving them for you. I know how much you love those curtains. And if you ever move out of your rental and buy a house, I knew you’d want them.”

  “That’s sweet. But I like my rental and don’t plan on moving anytime soon. Go ahead and dig them out to show Reel.”

  Gail returned a few minutes later with an oversized box.

  “It’s all here. Including the white sheers and the curtain rods.”

  Reel took the box and set it on the floor. I opened the top and pulled out a corner of the fabric to show Reel.

  “What do you think?”

  “I have no idea. I’d be happy with sheets hanging up with nails, so you tell me. Are they nice?”

  “These curtains are a lot more expensive than sheets. My mother redecorates every year, and these were by far my favorite, which explains why she only kept them for six months. But if you want to go cheaper, we can get some fabric, and I can sew some curtains for you.”

  “I don’t care about the money.”

  “Will they look okay with the carpet in your living room?”

  “Wood flooring throughout the house.”

  “Well, if money isn’t an issue, then I think you’ve got your curtains,” I said, standing back up. “Anything else you need?”

  “Everything. Pots, pans, dishes, furniture, pictures,” Reel sighed, rubbing a hand roughly across his forehead.

  Gail and I laughed.

  “Where’s your truck?” I asked.

  “By the post office.”

  “Go get it. Gail and I will keep shopping for you. Make sure you come back with your wallet. This is going to dent your bank account.”

  “No, it won’t,” Reel smirked, escaping the store.

  I released a long breath that I hadn’t noticed I’d been holding. I had purposefully avoided spending time with Reel over the past few years during his rare visits. Too many embarrassing memories.

  Realizing I was still staring at the door that Reel had left through, I shook off the memories and looked back at the shelves.

  “People in this town are scared to death to talk to Reel Thurman, and yet you trot him around like a puppy,” Gail said.

  “Why would anyone be afraid of Reel? He’s harmless.”

  “Please,” Gail laughed. “I’ve seen grown men turn and go the other way since that boy was a teenager. One glare from him has been known to cure addictions, stop affairs, and stop the birds from singing their morning songs.”

  “He’s not that scary,” I laughed, though I understood why others may have thought that. He wasn’t a mean person, and I hoped everyone knew that. He was extremely overprotective though. For as far back as I could remember, Reel wasn’t afraid to step in and give someone a good thrashing if they wronged someone he cared about.

  “It’s weird, Rod and Reel are such opposites, Rod being such an outgoing and happy person,” Gail continued as she put a variety of pans in a cart. “Hell, he’s the center of any good party.”

  “Hmm,” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I was close to both of them growing up. Maybe it colors my opinion of them. Hey, have you seen a homeless teenage boy around town?”

  “No, and I haven’t heard of a kid coming into the shelter. You sure he was homeless? My son looks like a derelict after spending a week at his father’s. I have no idea how he can stand the smell of himself.”

  “Maybe,” I shrugged, though I knew otherwise. I had noticed when I left the bakery that the bag of food I had set out was gone. At least I knew he had eaten something today. Until he asked for help, I supposed that was all I could do.

  It wouldn’t take Reel long to walk to his truck, so I dug into the shopping mission and started loading another cart with dishes.

  Chapter Five

  By the time Reel returned, I had finished going through the store, and Gail had recorded everything on the sales slip. We were piling everything outside on the sidewalk when Reel pulled up and stepped out of the truck.

  Anger was radiating off him i
n waves, and Gail stepped closer to the store.

  “What’s got you all bent out of shape?” I laughed.

  “I had a chat with Rod. Buck Peaton was kind enough to show me the video of the carnival yesterday.”

  “So?” I asked, confused.

  “Never mind,” Reel said, shaking his head. “Sorry I took so long.”

  “It’s fine. We just finished. You’ll need more stuff, but it’s a good start. I’ll load the truck while you go pay.”

  “I’ll load the truck,” he said, passing me his wallet.

  I followed Gail into the store to pay for the order. It felt a bit weird paying with cash out of Reel’s wallet. And I really wanted to snoop, but I scolded myself for the thought.

  I was putting the change back when I spotted an old photo staring back at me. Rod and Reel were about ten, both straddling their mountain bikes. Tansey and I stood next to Reel. He had his arm crooked around my neck and was looking at me. My eight-year-old self was laughing, with my arms wrapped innocently around his waist.

  I didn’t remember the picture, but it didn’t surprise me either. The four of us grew up within a three-block radius, and Aunt Carol was always close by, taking pictures.

  “Well, isn’t that cute,” Gail said, leaning over the counter to look at the photo. “What else is in there?”

  “I don’t know,” I grinned, closing the wallet. “And we aren’t looking.”

  I turned to leave and noticed Reel standing at the door, grinning at me.

  “I didn’t snoop. The picture was right there,” I laughed.

  “You can snoop,” he shrugged and held the door open for me.

  The sun was melting the air around us as I walked with Reel toward the truck.

  “You have time to go to the furniture store?”

  I checked my watch. It was almost 1:00.

  “Can we stop by The Bar for a burger first? Tansey’s working, so I’ll get us a discount.”

  “Deal. A cold beer sounds good.”

  Casey Pritchard had owned the local bar for half a century, naming it The Bar. The joke was that if you wanted to go out drinking, it was the only game in town, thus everyone would go to The Bar.

  Tansey had started working there when she turned eighteen, followed by moving into the upstairs apartment six months later. The apartment was spacious, with an open layout and industrial oversized windows that offered plenty of natural sunlight for Tansey to paint.

  “Why aren’t you at work?” Tansey asked as she walked by with a tray of beers.

  “Left early. There’s only so much ribbing a girl can take,” I answered as I slid into one of the large booths.

  Reel surprised me by sliding in next to me, moving me to the inside seat.

  Tansey delivered the beers to the nearby table and returned with a grin.

  “The usual?” she asked me.

  “Yup.”

  “The usual?” she asked Reel.

  “Yes,” he nodded without looking at Tansey. He was searching the room, his intense eyes making contact with anyone who dared look his way.

  Tansey snorted before walking off toward the kitchen.

  “You looking for someone?”

  “Habit,” he answered, looking down at me. “Downside of working security for a living.”

  “Any interesting cases lately?”

  “Interesting? No,” Reel said, shaking his head. “Dangerous, yes. But it’s finally over.”

  “What’s over?”

  “A friend of a friend had a kill contract out on her. But it’s been handled. She and her family are finally safe.”

  “Shit. A kill contract? Like as in a hitman? Is that why you were gone so long this time?”

  Reel nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “Did you kill the bad guy?” I whispered so no one else could hear.

  “No,” he chuckled, leaning back in the booth and throwing his arm along the top rail. “She wouldn’t let us.”

  “Good,” I sighed. “I mean, I get it. You are out there dealing with some real nut jobs, but it’s not very Christian to kill people.”

  “Sometimes it has to happen.”

  “But this was one less time.”

  “I’ll tell Kelsey you approve of her decision the next time I see her,” he smirked.

  For some reason, hearing Reel talk about another woman rankled me. I fidgeted in my seat. It wasn’t like Reel and I had ever dated. Nor had we spent any significant amount of time together since he left for the Army. But hearing him talk about his life, another woman, just reminded me that I didn’t really know Reel anymore.

  “I expect my friend Grady will marry Kelsey before the year is over,” Reel said, looking down at me, grinning.

  “That’s nice,” I nodded and started unrolling a set of silverware.

  Reel laughed and several people jumped in their seats, startled by the sound. Tansey rolled her eyes as she delivered a beer to Reel and a root beer float with whipped cream to me.

  “Kitchen’s backed up, so the burgers will be a few minutes,” she said, sliding into the seat across from us. “What are you two up to?”

  “Shopping,” I said before sucking the sugary syrup through my straw.

  “For what?” Tansey asked, looking back and forth between Reel and me.

  “I bought a house. Deanna’s helping me with the girly crap that I need.”

  “Do you need furniture?” Tansey asked.

  “I have bedroom furniture being delivered, but I need everything else.”

  “The furniture store in Cooper City is going out of business. Everything is on sale.”

  “They’re closing? Dang it. I don’t have the money for that sectional couch yet.”

  “I know,” Tansey pouted. “I called to find out how much they’d lowered the price, but even if we pooled our money, we wouldn’t have enough. Unless, of course, you dip into the Master Plan account.”

  “I’m not breaking the rules for a couch,” I laughed.

  “The Master Plan account?” Reel asked, turning those intense blue eyes on me.

  “Don’t make fun of us,” I scolded, pointing my index finger at him. “We’ve been setting money aside in those accounts since we were twelve. We are quite proud of them.”

  “And yet, I still can’t get my account balance higher than Tweedle’s,” Tansey sighed. “I swear, every time I get close, she pulls a rabbit out of her hat and caters some big job on the side and blows me away.”

  “How much could either of you have possibly saved, working minimum-wage jobs?” Reel chuckled.

  “$36,220.52,” I grinned.

  “$32,400.11,” Tansey smirked.

  Reel looked from me to Tansey and back again. “You’re serious?”

  “We’ve only kept out enough money to pay the bills, and everything else goes toward the Master Plan,” I shrugged.

  “I’m almost scared to ask. What’s the Master Plan?”

  “I want to own my own paint studio and gallery,” Tansey said, her eyes lighting up at the thought.

  “And I want to own my own bakery,” I said.

  Reel nodded, drinking his beer as he listened to us detail our dream business ventures. Our conversation ended when the kitchen bell rang, indicating an order was ready. Tansey delivered our food a few minutes later and handed me a to-go container before checking on her other tables.

  I cut my burger in half and placed it, along with half of my fries, into the container. I then shoved the container to the other side of the table, far away from me.

  “What are you doing?” Reel asked.

  “Saving the other half for dinner.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my thighs thump when I walk. I sound like a baby elephant.”

  Reel reached over and dumped the food back onto my plate. “Eat, damn it. You don’t need to lose weight.”

  “Tell that to my mother,” I sighed, taking a bite of my burger.

  “There are a lot of things I’d like to
tell your mother. But I’m afraid you’d never speak to me again if I did,” Reel grumbled, eating his own lunch.

  I didn’t ask what he would say to my mother. I didn’t know a single person in town, including her own brother, who liked her. She took snippety to a whole new level.

  My uncle had told me that the only time she was ever happy was when she had first married my dad. But, as the years went by, she returned to being bitchy. By the time I hit kindergarten, my dad had moved away in the middle of the night. He never came back. He never wrote a letter, sent a birthday card, or called. On many levels, I didn’t blame him. By the time he left, my sister Darlene, being a year older than me, was already starting to follow my mother’s uppity habits and criticizing everyone for everything. They both targeted Dad on a regular basis.

  But it still hurt. He didn’t love me enough to stay in touch. To my knowledge, he had never contacted Grandpa Sullivan, either. He walked away from all of us and never came back.

  “You’re thinking about your dad,” Reel whispered, looking down at me.

  “How’d you know?”

  “I just know,” he shrugged. “He loved you. I remember.”

  “You sound like Grandpa,” I sighed.

  “How is Vince?”

  “Not good,” I said, shaking my head. “I spent the day with him last Tuesday. He kept getting me confused with Grandma.”

  “That’s a compliment,” Reel said, nudging me. “Remember that time she taught us kids how to build a go-kart?”

  “The one you broke?”

  “It was your grandma’s idea to race it down Devil’s Hill.”

  “And you were insane enough to try it. At least she made you wear your football helmet and pads.”

  “If I wouldn’t have hit that big rock, I would’ve made it.”

  “I was scared to death, gripping Grandma’s hand as we watched you zoom down the hill. You smiled the whole way down.”

  “Adrenaline. I think your grandma was an adrenaline junkie too.”

  “I know she was. She made me go zip-lining with her once. When it was over, I was puking and she was telling me to hurry up, because she wanted to go again.”

  “She was a lot of fun,” Reel laughed.

  “She was,” I grinned, looking up at him. “What’s gotten into you? You never laugh and smile.”