Smoke and Mirrors

by M. Mabie

  I pulled my truck out of the yard and out through the alley, and then saw Faith’s car down the road, coming my way. We both slowed in front of Willard’s Grocery Store. I had the right of way for the perfect spot, but I went past it, contemplating whether or not I should just go home and eat cereal, but I didn’t even have milk.

  Nevertheless, I parked on the end, and before I got out, I grabbed my two-way radio and turned the volume down so it wouldn’t be obnoxious if it went off inside.

  Leisurely, I strode up the sidewalk, thirty or so feet behind Faith. I was used to being around her, but not with her. Had things been different, and we were there together, I would have teased her about the cloth grocery bag tucked under her arm.

  Seriously, what did she use to line her bathroom trash, if not a plastic grocery bag? Didn’t everyone do that?

  The problem with running into her at the store—which I’d done before, but not on purpose, I wasn’t that psycho—was how all stores were laid out for everyone to follow the same path.

  When I came through the doors, she was still wrangling a cart and it busted loose as I walked up.

  “Hey, Aaron.” She tossed the cloth sack into the basket, and I pulled a buggy from the row over.

  “How’s it going? Night off?” Obviously, I wasn’t great with small talk with her.

  “Yep. Delaney’s at the diner with Mom. So I’m using the time to get a few things done.” She laughed. “Okay. One thing done. I’m out of coffee.”

  “Out of coffee? You can’t have that.” I pushed forward into the small produce section and grabbed a bag of apples.

  She rolled past me to the veggies and chose a bag of baby carrots. “Tell me about it.”

  It was a good time to stall so I wasn’t following her down every aisle, but Willard’s was only open for another thirty or forty minutes. Hopefully, that was plenty of time to give her space and still get what I needed.

  Hemming and hawing around the potatoes, I acted like I was choosy. In reality, I needed one or two to throw in the microwave when I grilled that week, and I wasn’t picky in the least. I’d eat them skin and all.

  There was only so long I could dick around beside the onions, so I stepped around her and reached for a bag of salad, deciding maybe it was best if I just moved on ahead. Tossing the bag in the cart, I took a breath and said, “Have a good one.”

  Bread aisle, here I come.

  Chapter Four

  FAITH

  I was pathetic and awkward and weird.

  Delaney would eat carrots, but we didn’t need two freaking bags. All I’d come in for was coffee and Del’s extra crunchy peanut butter, and there I was farting around the produce hoping for a real conversation.

  Talk about hard up for attention.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, I followed him to the next aisle. When he caught me looking at him, I smiled.

  What? Girls need bread. Sure, I still had a full loaf at home, but it would freeze just fine.

  We danced around each other down the aisle. A box of Zebra Cakes for him. Oatmeal Cream Pies for me. I crossed to the dairy case for a few yogurts, and he stepped around me for lunch meat and Kraft slices.

  “Excuse me,” he said over my shoulder as I stood in front of the milk. Yeah, I was pretending to think about which milk I wanted. So lame.

  His thick, tanned arm stretched over my shoulder for a gallon of 2%, and my mouth went dry. I couldn’t move. Then he reached for a second jug and ... what the hell was wrong with me?

  Move, Faith.

  That’s how cheap my thrills were. The highlight of my day was watching a big, strong man buy milk. I rolled my eyes, hooked my finger through a half-gallon of skim and spun to set it in my cart, but I ran into his chest instead.

  Very smooth.

  He’d been right there, but I hadn’t realized he was still that close. He already had two gallons. How much calcium did it take to get muscles like that? And, oh my God, his chest was hard.

  Stumbling back, I nearly fell into the cooler, embarrassed and clumsy.

  I waved a hand in front of my hot face. “I’m sorry. I need to pay more attention to where I’m going. I’m just out of it today.” I pointed down the aisle. “Eggs. I need eggs.”

  Someone should have shot me with one of those tranquilizer darts they use on animals so they don’t hurt themselves, and put me out of my misery.

  “You got it?” he asked, wrapping both his hands around the handle of his cart.

  I dropped the milk in the front basket thing where Del used to sit while I shopped, and shook my head. “I’ve got something all right,” I said, making light of my ridiculous behavior. It was as if I was right back to that sixteen-year-old girl who thought Aaron hung the moon.

  Maybe he had, but he hadn’t hung it for me.

  Leave him alone.

  “Have a good night, Aaron.” I shoved my cart forward and turned the corner.

  In a perfect world, in some parallel universe, Aaron and I would be shopping together because I could have, should have, waited. He was worth it, and I’d fucked up.

  “Didn’t you need eggs?” he called behind me.

  I stopped, looked over my shoulder, bopped myself on the head, and jogged over to where they were.

  Large and cage-free. Just like him.

  Without wasting time checking to make sure they were all okay, I took the dozen on top and moved along, leaving him behind to shop in peace. Somehow I stayed in aisles away from him, but he still met up with me at the only checkout lane open. Of course, it was Wynne, and there were only three.

  “Hi, Rhonda,” I said, unpacking my cart, totally aware that I hadn’t brought enough bags in to carry all of my random shit out. “I have this, but I don’t think they’ll all fit.”

  I piled my junk onto the conveyor and when my cart was empty, I placed the separator on the belt and moved ahead so Aaron could pile his things on the space that was left.

  “Did you find everything, Faith?” Rhonda nasally asked, and looked past me to Aaron. “Looks like you have.”

  She was meddling, and her smile indicated she had a new, juicy piece of gossip with which she’d no doubt blab on her phone the second we were gone.

  “We’re not together,” I corrected. “This stuff is mine.” I lifted the squared separator with an advertisement for Wilbanks Insurance on it and slapped it on the surface a few times. “That’s his.” Before I forgot, I pulled a phone card off the shelf and tossed it in my things.

  She’d always driven me nuts—you know the type. Biggest damn mouth in town. A busybody with nothing better to do than stir shit—or start it as the case may have been.

  Rhonda took her time gawking at the man behind me.

  That bitch was thirsty.

  “Rhonda,” I said, just loud enough to snap her ass out of it. She gave me a closed mouth smile and went about scanning my things. I bagged the stuff myself, and she all but completely ignored me.

  “I’ll be at the fish and chicken fry on Saturday, Aaron. Never miss it. You boys know how I like my meat. Hot and ready.”

  What a piece of work.

  He answered, “Yep, Saturday.”

  My head bobbed around to get into her line of sight. “Debit card, Rhonda.”

  She blinked and pressed the button. “Forty-one nineteen.”

  I slid my card through the reader and the horny heifer fluffed her frizzy, over processed hair. “Aaron, do you guys give fire engine rides?”

  Everyone has that one friend who wears their emotions, and every thought in their mind, on their sleeve. I was that girl, and I wore my sleeve on my face.

  “We always give the kids rides at the end.” His voice didn’t reveal anything, as he looked at a pack of gum in the checkout aisle. He tipped his chin just a hair and met my eyes. “You should bring Delaney.”

  Lost for words, I was stuck in the moment, locked on his striking eyes, and struggling to catch a breath. Admittedly, I had more than a few soft spots in my heart and he�
�d just touched the biggest one.

  There was a tickle in my throat. I cleared it and hooked my arms through my grocery bags. “She loves going.”

  I needed to get out of there. It was too hard to ignore my feelings, both old and new.

  “Bye,” I said in general, and lugged my purchase outside as fast as I could go. I opened the car door and piled the four or five bags into the free side of the back, noticing one of the sandals Del had been looking for that morning, sticking out from under the front seat on the other side. I stretched and swung my hand to get it. After pulling the jelly shoe free, I slipped it into the bag with the Elmer’s glue I’d picked up to make slime for the thousandth time.

  “The fish fry then?”

  Out of my periphery, I saw him standing in front of my car on the sidewalk. Quickly, I climbed out and shut the door.

  “Yeah, she always goes.”

  Mom closed the diner during the big fundraiser. We were always dead those afternoons anyway, and since it was for the town it was just the right thing to do.

  He didn’t say anything but didn’t leave either.

  “Del likes the petting zoo.” Mom took her last time because I got called into the bar, which had stayed open and was surprisingly extra busy that day.

  He must have had six bags, but held them in one hand, swinging them. “What about you?”

  My ponytail was falling apart. I probably looked like a hot mess, and I tucked some of the fallen hair behind my ears as I stood, instantly aware of my state of homeliness. “I go sometimes.” I needed to walk around my car to get in, but he was up there and walking around the back felt weird—even for me, the weirdest girl in history.

  The radio on his hip started to go off, but all I could hear was strange beeping. He grinned, almost apologetically, and his head tipped toward his truck. I mirrored his nod, and then looked at my feet. Too much of his smile was never a good thing for me.

  “I have to go,” he said and switched his bags to the other hand and turned the radio down a few notches. “See you later.”

  He walked off, and I rounded the hood of my car. Before I even had my Sonata in reverse, he was tearing down the freshly tar-and-chipped street with his emergency flasher on.

  Me: Guess who I just ran into at the store?

  Abbey: You only ever mention one guy. So what happened?

  Damn. She had a point.

  Emma: Was he wearing his firefighter shit? Fuck, I love uniforms.

  Noel: You’re all hopped up on hormones, Em. You’d trip over your feet to fuck a mailbox right now. Faith, did you talk to him this time or just blink at him like usual?

  Me: I talked, bitch. A little. Same old, same old. He invited me to the town fish fry.

  Well, sort of. It was a public affair. No invitation needed.

  Emma: He wants to bang you. I swear to God if you two don’t fuck soon I’m leaving this chat message. Four years of this cat and mouse crap. Leave Del with your mom and just go to his house and mount the poor man.

  I leaned my head against the headrest and gave myself a few seconds to think about what that would be like, and then snapped out of it.

  Me: Shut up. I don’t even think I remember how to have sex at this point. Hell, judging by my behavior in the dairy aisle, I can barely even hold an adult conversation.

  It was always going to be awkward for me to be around him because once upon a time I’d convinced myself that I was in love with him. Ha. I’d been sixteen.

  What did I know back then? Not too freaking much.

  What I knew for sure was that I had a perfect little girl I was proud of, but I was embarrassed about things I’d done when he left Wynne. Guilt built in my stomach for feeling that way as I drove home. I’d been young and stupid, but Delaney was everything.

  I packed my things in, finding my mom and Darrell on the couch watching TV. Delaney was at the kitchen table with a coloring book.

  “Whatcha coloring, Del?”

  “Trolls,” she said, but didn’t look up.

  Bag by bag, I piled things on the counter. “Why aren’t you watching TV with them?”

  Mom came in and rummaged through my haul.

  “Because Gramma and Big D are watching the Walmart Channel and it’s too much kissing for me.”

  “Hallmark,” my mom corrected and laughed, pulling a bag of pretzels out and opening them. “They’re showing Christmas movies.”

  “It’s summer, Mom,” I reminded her. If my mother had one guilty pleasure, it was those cheesy romances.

  “I know.” She snickered. “I can’t help it.”

  “I can’t believe Darrell watches them with you.”

  Popping three salty sticks into her mouth, she confessed, “Oh, he’ll watch anything. He doesn’t care.” Her hand dove back in for more, and then she helped me put everything away.

  I wadded up the plastic bags and shoved them into the bag holder hanging from the pantry door, hating that I had them at all.

  “Aaron was at the store.”

  Her eyes slid to Delaney, knowing how I didn’t like talking about that kind of stuff when she was around. Delaney only had one parent, and I would be damned if that kid only got half of my attention when we were together.

  Still, Mom knew the history I had with Aaron. How I’d had it so badly for him before he enlisted. How I’d thought about him, almost non-stop, until Chad and I started dating my freshman year at State. How I’d thought by dating Chad I’d finally forget about Aaron, the guy who—for lack of a better word—disappeared from my life.

  One of my weaker nights, after Aaron came back and Chad left, probably the fifth or sixth in a row with no sleep when Delaney’s colic had been at its worst, I’d told her how I never quit thinking about Aaron, and how I should have just waited for him to come home.

  Like I told him I would.

  Who knew what would happen when we were that young? I wouldn’t have guessed things would turn out how they did.

  Mom bowed toward the door and I grabbed the cloth grocery bag, knowing if I didn’t put it in my trunk right then, I’d forget to do it altogether. As I walked past Delaney I bent and picked up the Cornflower Blue crayon from the floor. “I’ll be right back in.” Then I kissed her on the top of the head.

  Outside, Mom waited for me while I walked to my car and she sat in the lawn chair I used when Del wanted to play in the yard.

  “Did you thank him for cleaning the gutters?” she asked.

  “Hell, no.” I hated thinking about the stuff he snuck around and did. My mom and I rarely talked about it anymore. Both of us were used to it by then. We weren’t dumb—neither of us had trimmed the yard in years. I knew where the swing set in our backyard came from because it had sat beside the oak tree at the Goodmans’ for years when I was a kid. That was, until I found it in our yard one day after work.

  We knew it was him, but he never said anything, and so I didn’t either.

  With annoyance in her voice and for the millionth time, she asked, “Why don’t you just ask him out?”

  “You know why, Mom.”

  “I still say he’s got a thing for you.” She knew everything, but she also watched too many sappy movies. “Leaving those tips, like he does. Going to the bar when he hardly drinks. Sweetie, you could make time.”

  “No, I couldn’t.” I slapped my palms against my thighs, frustrated. “I barely have time now to play with her. That’s not fair. It’s not her fault that all her father gives her is a check every month. I have to be both. That doesn’t leave much of me for anyone else.”

  Her knee bounced. She knew the life as well as I did. She’d been a single mom, too. One who never dated when I was young, so why didn’t it make sense to her?

  Instead of replying, she shot me an annoyed expression and a groan.

  “It’s not just that, Mom. Who’d want leftover scraps? Doesn’t he deserve someone who has more to give him than that? He’s a good guy.” He could do better.

  “Why not let him make
the decision if he wants your scraps or not. I think he does.”

  The conversation went in circles, like always.

  “Then why hasn’t he ever talked to me about it? He never brings up how things were before he left. He never asks me out. He’s not interested. He’s just a nice guy ... who deserves a nice girl.” Arms across my chest, I looked up to combat the burning in my eyes. My emotions flared at the worst times.

  She fired back, “What makes you think you’re not a nice girl? He ain’t doing all of that for me. Or anyone else in town.” She pushed Delaney’s tricycle with her foot and it lightly rolled into my shin. “Maybe you should just relax and talk to him. If you wanted the stuff he does to stop, that would be fine, but you don’t. So step out there a little more. It won’t kill ya.”

  I shouldn’t have even told her I’d run into him. I wasn’t even sure why I had. All I really wanted was to spend an hour or so with my baby before she went to bed. Then have vodka and diet cranberry and watch fancy makeup tutorials on YouTube.

  Instead, I was wasting time I didn’t have talking about something that wasn’t going to happen.

  She got to her feet as I walked to the door. “Sweetie, he’s a good man. Those don’t come around very often.”

  Before I turned the handle, I looked at her over my shoulder. “Mom, let’s just drop it.”

  “I will, but, Faith, you bought it up. Don’t you think you’ve waited enough?”

  What difference did it make?

  MOM AND DARRELL WENT next door, and it wasn’t long until Delaney had fallen asleep on the couch beside me and I was carrying her to bed and tucking her in.

  She deserved more. A mom with more free time. A father who loved her. A big backyard. A pet. Brothers and sisters.

  I wanted more kids. Wanted more in my life, but why did it have to feel like, to make it happen, I’d need to rob Peter to pay Paul?

  Maybe Mom was right, and he was interested in me—romantically. But would he be interested in Delaney? I wasn’t some young, free woman with a wide open social schedule and no responsibilities.