by Penny Reid
“But if you don’t have mint, I’m fine with decaf coffee.”
And I swear, if Cletus gives me shit about this, I’ll quit. I’ll cash out and quit and open my own shop.
Mrs. Cooper tugged on my arm, bringing us both to a stop and forcing my attention to her.
“Beau.”
“Yes? Mint tea, right?”
Mrs. Cooper studied me, her smile more a press of lips than a grin. “You know what I like best about growing older?”
“What’s that?” I blinked at her, trying to focus on what she was saying. My mind was elsewhere, concocting scenarios that would lead to the eventual firing of Miss Shelly Sullivan.
“Before a person even opens their mouth to speak,” Mrs. Cooper’s grin widened, “I already know whether or not they’re an asshole.”
A giant smile split my face and I laughed. “I’m sorry about Shelly, ma’am. She’s not—”
“Honey, that woman isn’t an asshole.” Mrs. Cooper took a step toward me, gathering one of my hands in hers and making sure I was giving her my eyes before she continued. “She’s afraid. Lashing out. Maybe even wounded. I guarantee . . .” The older woman looked to the side, drawing my attention along her line of sight.
Shelly was scratching one of her dogs behind the ears. She kissed the mammoth beast and leaned close, whispering words in its ear as she patted its head. The dog ate it up, licking her face, its tail wagging wildly.
She smiled.
And the sight of her smile blinded me. It was brilliant.
“I guarantee there’s more to that one than meets the eye.”
6
“Those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.”
― George Bernard Shaw
*Beau*
“What are you doing out here?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I found my sister hovering in the doorway. I was sitting on the porch steps, facing the acreage at the back of our family’s property.
Well, Jethro’s property.
Our oldest brother, Jethro, had inherited the homestead last year, a big old sprawling farmhouse set on fifteen acres, backing up to the Great Smoky Mountains National Forest. A field of wildflowers separated our land from the yellow buckeyes, red maples, basswoods, white ash, and black birches, all of which were clinging stubbornly to their summer colors.
Fall hadn’t arrived. It wasn’t chilly. The air was temperate and dry. A light breeze touched the field, enough to gently rustle the flowers yet not strong enough to steal their petals. Nonetheless, I was cold.
I’d placed my hands between my legs as I stared up at the stars. It had been cold this time last year, colder than was typical. I remembered despite my fierce desire to forget, because this was the anniversary of our mother’s death.
None of us had called it an anniversary dinner, nor had anyone explicitly brought up the fact that today was the day. But that’s what it was. Conversation over dinner had been subdued. To lighten the mood, I’d taken it upon myself to tell some dirty jokes. Sienna and Jessica then took the ball and ran with it, lifting everyone’s spirits.
Jennifer Sylvester—a bit of a local celebrity known for her award-winning banana cakes—had shown up unexpectedly just after dinner. She’d brought a cake (not a banana cake) as well as other various and sundry baked goods.
The unannounced interruption gave everyone something else to occupy their thoughts, and I’d been able to slip out of the family room undetected. Until now.
“Hey, Ash. I’m just looking at the stars and listening to the bugs.” I gave her a welcoming grin and patted the wood next to me. “Plenty of room if you want to sit.”
She was backlit by the kitchen. Even though I couldn’t see her expression, I sensed she was hesitating.
Eventually, she closed the door behind her. “Why’re you avoiding everybody?”
“I’m not.”
“Really? Because it feels like you are.” She crossed to me and sat, wrapping her arms around her drawn-up legs.
“Because I came out here for fresh air?”
“No. Because other than telling jokes at dinner and introducing Jennifer Sylvester to everyone, you haven’t said more than three words.”
My eyes were on the sky, but I could feel my sister’s stare moving over my profile. I considered a lighthearted remark to make her feel better. Instead, I said nothing. I hoped she’d assume it was the anniversary of our mother’s death that had me quiet.
And that wouldn’t be a lie, because the day had been difficult. I couldn’t stop remembering the last time I’d kissed my mother. Or how we’d gathered around her hospital bed in the den a few nights before she died; we told terrible jokes about chickens and roosters, and that was the last time she’d laughed. And then the moment I saw Ashley’s face and knew Momma was gone, I remembered that, too.
But it wasn’t only the memories that had driven me outside.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head, reaching for her and tucking her under my arm. She rested her head on my shoulder and cuddled close to my side.
I didn’t know what to say. The pinch in my lungs had grown over the last few weeks, making me feel like I had one of those thick rubber bands around my chest.
“I wish you’d talk to me, Beau. I’m a good listener and I promise I’m good at keeping secrets.”
Maybe it was due to her warmth seeping into my side, easing some of the cold and tightness in my chest, but without thinking too much about it, I said, “I don’t know what to do about a woman.”
And then I grimaced because as soon as the words left my mouth, an image of Shelly Sullivan flashed behind my mind’s eye. And that didn’t make a lick of sense. Shelly wasn’t the woman on my mind.
Or rather, she’d been on my mind, but she wasn’t who I was referring to.
Does she have friends in town? Does she have more pets besides the foul-mouthed demon bird and the hounds from hell? What does she do after she goes home from the shop? Is she alone? Is she lonely?
Ashley shifted a little, lifting her chin to look up at me. “Who is she?”
Shoving aside the bombardment of never ending questions about Shelly Sullivan, I forced my mind to the woman I should’ve been thinking about. “You know Darlene Simmons?”
“What? Why? No! No way.” My sister stiffened, pulling away and shaking her head adamantly, continuing in a higher pitch, “Of course I know Darlene, Beau. She was in my grade and made my life a living hell in high school. Please don’t tell me you’re hooking up with Darlene Simmons?”
The band around my chest tightened and I rubbed my face. I hadn’t known Darlene had mistreated Ashley during high school. I’d been more interested in teasing my sister than protecting her from hurts when we were growing up.
“I’m sorry, Ash. I didn’t know you and Darlene had a history.”
“No. I’m sorry.” She held up her hands between us. “I’m being a dummy. It was high school and I should let it go.” Despite her words, my sister still sounded irritated.
“Well, I like her. We’re not just hooking up.”
Ashley groaned and then caught herself, swallowing the end of it. But before she could say anything, I corrected myself.
“Actually, I guess we are just hooking up.” I stared out at the field, the shadows of wildflowers against the inky darkness of the forest beyond. “I told her I want to be exclusive and she said she needs time to think about it.”
“When was that?”
“A few weeks ago.” I rubbed my jaw.
My sister stared at me, saying nothing. The buzz of cicadas and chirps of crickets rose to fill the silence.
Finally, she sighed. “I’m sorry, you caught me unawares. Let me back up for a sec.” Wrapping her arm around mine she squeezed. “Okay, so. Tell me why you like Darlene Simmons.”
“She’s smart.”
“Okay. What else?”
“Did you know she’s in med school?”
“You like
her because she’s in med school?”
I shrugged. “Not really, but it does mean she’s focused. Mature. Has a plan for her life.”
Ashley snorted lightly. “Just ’cause someone is a medical doctor doesn’t mean they’re mature.”
Bumping her shoulder with mine I gave her a little grin. “You know what I mean.”
She grumbled something I didn’t catch, then asked, “What’s her specialty? Or has she chosen one?”
“She’s applied for a program in anesthesiology.”
My sister’s reaction to this news was to stare forward with her lips rolled between her teeth. She did this when she was struggling against an unkind impulse.
After a moment, she asked in a meticulously even tone. “Okay, she’s smart. What else do you like?”
I shrugged, realizing I hadn’t given the subject much thought before now. “I’ve known her for a long time, and she likes me. She asked me out a few times this last year, whenever she visited her folks in town.”
“So, you like that she likes you?”
“I guess so.”
Ashley’s eyebrows did a weird thing on her forehead. “But what do you have in common?”
I struggled with that one, lamely saying, “She likes my car,” and then I winced because that sounded even worse out loud than it had in my head.
Damn.
“Beau.”
Taking a deep breath, I turned a rueful smile on my sister. “Ashley.”
She mimicked my grin, cupping my jaw and shaking her head at me like she thought I was cute. “Do you really like this woman? Really?”
“She’s . . . fine.”
My sister sputtered a laugh. “What is going on? As far as I’m aware, this would be the first time you’ve wanted to be exclusive with anyone, right?”
I nodded, turning my attention to my hands. “If you don’t count my ten or so girlfriends in middle and high school, then yes. That is correct.”
Contrary to popular belief around town, I wasn’t one to sleep around. At all.
Yeah, I flirted. I always had a date when I needed one. But other than my last two girlfriends in high school, I hadn’t had sex with anyone.
Darlene and I had messed around on our dates in Green Valley and when I visited her in Nashville, but I’d been holding out on moving to the next step until she gave me assurances.
Andrea Poole was the last, and for good reason.
Duane and Billy were the only ones who knew the story about Andrea, about what had happened between us, and I wasn’t of a mind to discuss the details with Ash.
“I’m not counting your girlfriends in high school, because you were just a kid and were never serious about those girls. Then why, as a man, are you settling for someone who is merely fine? You should be with someone amazing.”
When I said nothing, she added, “You know you can have your pick of anybody.”
I rolled my eyes at my sister’s statement, sighing, which just caused her to shove my shoulder. “Don’t huff at me, Beau. You know it’s true. Everywhere we go in this town—and out of it for that matter—all the ladies swoon over your smiles.” Tucking her folded hands under her chin, she batted her long, dark eyelashes at me.
“Quit it, Ash.” Duane and Hank’s teasing was one thing, but coming from my sister those statements made me tetchy.
Girls liked me, this was true. But I didn’t want a girl, I wanted a woman. I wanted what Jethro had, what Duane had, and what Drew had with my sister.
She laughed at my expression, shoving my shoulder again. “Why Darlene?”
Out of nowhere, and before I knew what I was saying, I blurted, “What if there is no one else?”
“What?”
“I’m stuck.” I swallowed on the last word, my neck hot with the admission.
Ashley flinched. “You’re stuck?”
“Jethro has Sienna. They’re perfect together, getting married, have a baby on the way. He’s moved out to the carriage house. Things are happening. And then there’s Billy. He’s been promoted twice this last year and people are talking about a run for state senate. We hardly see him because he’s too busy. And then you and Drew have each other, and it’s like you were made for each other. You moving back here last year, living together, you’ll probably get married next year.” This last part came out sounding like an accusation and I didn’t know why.
And I didn’t know why my heart was beating fast, or why the rubber band around my chest had tightened, making breathing difficult.
“Honey—”
“Duane has Jess, and she’s all he ever wanted. They’re leaving—he’s leaving—before Thanksgiving.” I needed to clear my throat before I could continue and I shifted my attention to my hands. “His entire world has changed, opened up, and he has what he’s always wanted. I want to be happy for him. And then Roscoe,” I gestured to the house behind us, “graduated college. He’s going to vet school. He’s grown up, moving on with his life.”
Ashley covered my hands with hers. “Oh, Beau.”
I cleared my throat again and reminded myself I wasn’t angry with Ashley. I wasn’t angry with the rest of my family either, for living life, for finding their soulmates, for moving forward.
When I spoke next, I made sure to keep my voice even and returned my eyes to Ashley. “Cletus is the only one—other than me—who hasn’t changed. Except, you’ve noticed, right? He’s been different. He’s fixating on something. Jethro thinks it’s a woman. Sure, he’s being sneaky, playing the banjo Friday nights at the jam session and shuffleboard on Sunday, same as before. But how long is that going to last?”
A kind smile stole over her lips and behind her eyes. “Keep in mind, Cletus doesn’t much like change. When he changes, it’ll be kicking and screaming the whole way.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be happy to hear that, but I am.” I huffed a laugh, shaking my head and giving my gaze back to the sky. “I’m not opposed to change. I’m ready for things to change. I guess I hate being the only one stuck.”
“But settling for someone, or pushing for more with a person you don’t have strong feelings for, isn’t the way to go about getting a jump-start on living life.”
“It’s like y’all are . . .” leaving me behind.
“What?”
I turned my palm up, captured my sister’s hand in mine and swallowed, unable to complete the thought. Ashley slowly sucked in a breath—the way she did when she was preparing to lecture me about something—but footsteps approaching from the side of the house derailed her.
We both turned, squinting at the darkness just beyond the ring of light provided by the porch lights. Our youngest sibling emerged. His attention was on the ground and he was wearing a distracted scowl.
“Roscoe?”
He stopped short at the sound of his name, wide eyes meeting Ashley’s, and then mine.
“Oh. Hey. Didn’t know y’all were out here.” He took a half-step back.
Ashley and I swapped a quick glance. She looked as suspicious and curious as I was.
“Where were you?”
“Huh?”
“Huh?” Ashley echoed, teasing him. This was classic Roscoe, pretending he didn’t hear or understand a question in order to delay answering it.
“It’s a simple question.” I grinned at our brother. “Do you need me to provide you with some multiple-choice options?”
Roscoe glared at me, but I could tell he was working to cover a smile.
He was our little brother, but he’d been taller than both Duane and me—and Cletus, and Ashley—since about fourteen. He was now the tallest, his height having eclipsed Jethro’s three years ago. His face was a younger, less world-weary version of Billy’s, but his rascally, good-natured disposition was the direct opposite of Billy’s stoic and oftentimes jaded temperament.
And this difference was understandable. We’d all worked to protect Roscoe from our father’s violence, and Billy had been the shield that saved all of us.
&nbs
p; “Let’s see, option A: you were hunting snipe.” I rubbed my chin.
His glare intensified.
“Okay, option B: you were making love to a sheep.”
“Shut up, dummy.” Roscoe climbed the steps and sat next to Ashley.
“Option C: a sheep was making love to you?”
Ashley snort-laughed and Roscoe ignored me, skootching real close. As soon as Ashley was squeezed between us, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
“Roscoe! You have the entire step to sit on. Get off me.” She tried to shove him off, laughing at his antics.
“I want hugs.” He rested his big head on her little shoulder, like he used to do when they were little. He’d sit on her lap and she’d read him a book, or help him finger paint, or rock him to sleep.
Ashley really was the best.
Inspired by my brother, I wrapped my arms around her and placed my head on her shoulder as well.
“Oh good Lord,” she huffed. I couldn’t see her, but I knew she’d rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine.” Her arms came up and encircled each of us, squeezing then rubbing our backs. “You’re a bunch of big babies.”
I took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of her perfume mixed with the aroma of apple pie and coffee. Of Ashley. Of a soft place I could count on. Of a person I loved.
I was so glad she’d decided to come home.
Why was it you never realized how much you would miss someone until they’d left?
7
“Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”
― Edgar Allan Poe
*Beau*
Ash was right.
I was going to call things off with Darlene. I didn’t have strong feelings for her. I’d been using her, though I hadn’t realized until the talk with my sister. She wasn’t sure about being exclusive, and she’d been right.
Duane was fond of saying that the best thing about having Darrell Winston as a father was knowing what not to do.
“What would Darrell do? Once you figure it out, do the opposite,” he’d say.
