by Hart, Cary
Nodding, I take her hand in mine. “Hand hugging while talking is always good.”
I step next to her and we both become mesmerized by the darkness that is overcoming the summer sky.
“My dad, he owned Woody’s. He was Woody.”
Turning her head slightly, she looks up at me. “Do you look like him?”
“Yeah. Just a younger version,” I answer. I’m not sure if she knows that she is setting me at ease, giving me time to tell the story I want to tell, but she is.
“Lewis men, very handsome.”
“My mom thinks so.” I rub circles around her thumb with mine. “She loved him so much. They had everything.” I shake my head. “The memories are overwhelming at times. You would think after seventeen years it would get easier, but it doesn’t.”
“I understand.” She takes my hand in both of hers. “So, tell me about this place.”
“Well, my dad inherited this land from my grandfather, his dad. It had this small, run-down cabin that had no running water and a porch that barely could handle one rocking chair, let alone two.”
“Two?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a neat story.” My lips curl up at the memory. “He would come out here to get away from the world and when I was old enough, he let me tag along. One day he asked me what I thought about living here.”
“I could only imagine what a young you thought of it.” She giggles.
“Yeah, I wasn’t too thrilled. Remember, no running water.” I join in the laughter. “But I took him around the yard and told him what I thought it would take for us to be a family here.”
“I bet he loved that.” She pulls my arm a little closer. My arm is tangled in hers, hands hugging, shoulder to shoulder.
“He did. Each weekend he would bring me out here and together we would sit in these metal folding chairs at a card table, drawing out plans for our dream home.”
“Patient man.”
“Very much so. He taught me so much during that time. By twelve I knew how to draw out floor plans.”
“Good to know.” She beams.
“A few months before the accident, my dad and I built two rocking chairs and set them on that rundown porch. He set a milk crate upside down to use as a table. Surprised my mom by setting out two glasses of Lipton iced tea and the rolled-up plans for the cabin.”
“That’s so romantic.”
“It really was. My dad fell head over heels in love with my mom in grade school and fought like hell to keep her every day.”
“What did she say? Did she like it?”
“He blindfolded her and had me walk her up to the porch where he was standing behind her rocking chair. Of course, she was apprehensive, but warmed up to it quickly once she saw the plans.”
“It never happened?” She looks up, eyes watering, mirroring mine.
I shake my head. “He died the next year, from a forklift accident. That is why I’m so adamant about wearing safety equipment. If he would have had his on, this house would have been his.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me too.”
Her stomach chooses this moment to growl.
“Oh, my.” She unhooks our arms and covers her face, fingers splayed. “So embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing is me just now feeding you.” I hold out my arm, letting her lead the way. “Let’s feed you.”
“Have you even cooked in this kitchen?” She runs a finger over the countertop, then walks over and opens the cabinets. “Holy hell!”
“Yeah, I went a little crazy.”
“A little?” She begins to open every cabinet and just watching her in here, feeling comfortable, gets me thinking things I shouldn’t after less than a week. “You bought the whole store.”
“I bought them after I put the finishing touches in the kitchen.”
“Amish cabinets,” she mumbles. “sTm.” She brushes the cabinet with her hand, appreciating the design. “Why didn’t you build them?”
“Honestly, you can’t beat the craftsmanship that they put into it. Could I have done this? Yeah, but I wanted to be in this place within a year and it’s been just about that since I started the place.”
“You did all this in a year?” she asks in astonishment.
“Yeah.”
“WilliamSon Construction during the day, you own Woody’s…” She puts her finger to her chin. “Kyle, you had to work on this every night and weekend.”
“Just about,” I confess. “It kept me out of trouble.”
I quickly turn before she can read anymore into that comment. This night is going better than I could have thought and I refuse to let any more of my past invade the night.
“How about shrimp alfredo?”
“I love it.”
“Good, it should only take twenty minutes or so start to finish.” I reach into the cabinets, pulling out pots and seasoning.
“What can I do?” She looks around, unsure of what to do or where to sit.
I have two pieces of furniture, a bed and couch. Haven’t made it to full livable status.
“Here.” I set the pot down, going to stand in front of her. “Can I?”
“Yes.”
Hands on her waist, I set her on the counter, her legs spread, welcoming. My hands slide to her hips, and I can’t think. I take a step, inching myself closer. “Nina?” I’m so close. Her scent consumes me.
“Kyle.”
“I need a hug.” I opt for the cowardly way out.
“This would make five. You only get three more. So, choose wisely.” She reaches around my neck and pulls me close to her.
Leaning back a little, I arch a brow. “This makes four.”
Shaking her head, she pulls me back in, forcing herself to the edge of the counter. “Nope, window hand hug.”
“I thought maybe that was a freebie.” I lean in, rubbing my hands along her back. “You know, tragic story and all.”
“Kyle Lewis.” She leans back, smacking my chest. “Don’t use that to get your way.”
“Hey! No breaking the hug till I’m ready. You already cheated me out of one.”
Her stomach growls again, a warning the hug has to end. Turning my face into her neck, I inhale her scent.
“Did you just sniff me?”
I tense, realizing I just got caught getting wrapped up in the moment. “Maybe.” I take a step back. “Creepy?”
“Nah, I’m a sniffer too.”
“Did you sniff me?” I reach into the freezer, grabbing the shrimp.
“I’m a professional, you wouldn’t know if I did.” She hops down off the counter and comes to my side. “I can’t believe you know how to cook.”
“Only child until my mom remarried. I guess you could say I was bored and liked the constant attention.” I turn on the stove top, adding butter to the skillet. “You cook?”
“Just the basics, but nothing like this.”
“This is pretty simple.” I hand her the wooden spatula. “Here.” I turn her toward the stovetop.
“Ummm?”
I stand behind her, reaching around to pour in the shrimp. “Push them around in the butter.” I cover her hand with mine, forcing my other hand to go to the counter and not to her waist. “Yes, just like that.”
“Mmm.” She turns her face up toward mine. “Smells good.” Her lips are so close, but as inviting as they are, I can’t.
Self-control, Lewis. Think about port-a-potties. Those stink. Everything Nina is not.
“I’ll grab the spices.” I break away before she starts to notice exactly how turned on she makes me.
Port-a-potty.
“So, tell me about your family.” I’m now back at her side, throwing in a dash of this and dash of that. “You found out a little about my parents and how I became who I am today. What about you?”
Tensing back up, she hands me the wooden spoon. “Can you finish?”
“Nina, I didn’t mean to…”
“I just need a minute. Do you car
e if I use the restroom?” She walks around the counter and heads toward the master bath I showed her during the tour.
I’ve obviously hit a nerve. I can only hope that since I was so open, she will feel comfortable enough to confide in me.
And if not, we still have hugs.
Nina
It’s been forever since someone even cared about my life, let alone what happened to my parents. Niki buried it deep within, refusing to talk to anyone.
I wanted to talk and I tried to with Brandon, but he told me the best medicine was moving on. Now, Kyle, he wants to know and after sharing his past, why not let him in on mine? Show him he isn’t alone.
Excusing myself wasn’t a cop-out. I wasn’t running away from Kyle, not this time. I just needed a moment to deal with emotions I wasn’t allowed to feel for so long.
Placing my hands on the sink, I lean forward and examine the new me. The person who is looking back is different. I’m not who I was when I was with Brandon, but I’m not the me from before him either. I’m changing.
Healing.
“Nina.” Kyle is on the other side of the door. Just a day ago I would have been embarrassed, but now, after he has opened himself up, showing me something so special and private, I know telling him will only help heal me.
“I’m coming.” I swing open the door to see him leaning against the wall.
“I thought maybe you needed a hug.” He opens his arms wide, inviting.
“How did you know?” I walk right into them and secretly breathe him in as his strong arms enclose me, securing me and my heart.
“A hugger just knows.” I can feel his smile against my hair. “I caught that.”
“Caught what?”
“You sniffed me.” He brings his arms up, hands combing through my hair.
“Yeah, well, it comforts me.” I push off the wall. Breaking free, another hug checked off the list. “Plus, you’re hot,” I holler back as I walk toward the kitchen. I’m shocked to find that plates and drinks are made. “Umm…” I point to the kitchen. “How long was I gone?”
“It doesn’t take long.” He walks over to the island, picking up the plates. “Can you get the drinks?”
“Sure.” I grab the tea and follow him into the great room.
“This is the only table I have, for now.” He sets the plates down and sits on the floor, patting a spot next to him.
“Best table ever.” I crack a smile and cop a squat. “God, Kyle, this really does smell delicious.” I begin to twirl a small bite around the fork, stabbing a shrimp to secure my noodles.
“I ran out of parmesan.” He waits for me to take the first bite.
“Oh, my.” I cover my mouth trying to talk and swallow. “It’s soooo good.” I roll my eyes to the back of my head.
“Good.” He takes my response as his cue to dig in.
Setting my fork down, I decide now is the time.
“You asked about my family…”
“Nina…” He tries to swallow, grabbing for his tea to wash down the food. “You don’t have to feel pressured. That’s not what I wanted.”
“I know.” I reach out and grab his hand. I’m not sure if this time it’s to comfort him or me. “I want to.”
I pause, then begin my story. “Niki and I grew up in a family that had its ups and downs, but not because my parents didn’t love each other. They really, really did.” I reach for my cup. I’m not really thirsty, but need the break. “My parents were very much like yours except they were high school sweethearts, marrying as soon as they turned eighteen. Everyone thought my mom was pregnant, but they just didn’t want to spend another night apart so they got married to avoid living in sin.”
“Sounds like my parents,” he says between bites.
“Since they got married so young they went straight to work building a life for a family they so desperately wanted. Skipping an education.”
I roll the fork, going for a bigger bite this time.
“Sounds like they knew what they wanted. My mom did the same thing, but my dad, he took night classes to get his business degree.” He waits for me to take another bite before he continues. “His father owned the lumber yard, which consisted of a small pole barn and metal fence. My dad built it to what it is today.”
“My father always wished he would have done that, but once they had Niki, he took on another job. Always gone.” I take one more quick bite. “That’s really good, but if I eat another bite, I’m going to explode.” I push the plate away.
“Keep talking. I’m going to take these to the kitchen and clean up.” Kyle stands, clearing away the plates. I follow, taking a seat on the couch that is only a couple feet away.
“With my father working so much, it created a divide within the family and arguments were part of the nightly routine. The weird thing about it though, it was fighting over wanting more time. That’s all she wanted. Him.”
“Did your mom still work when she had you guys?” He begins drying the dishes he washed while listening to me.
“Only for a minute, but she hated leaving Niki with strangers. So, she made up for it by watching other kids. That only lasted a little while. She didn’t have the patience to deal with Niki and others. Niki was hard enough.” I laugh thinking of some of the stories Mom used to tell.
“I can see that. She is something else.”
“She really is a good person. Niki has just had a wall up for so long. Anyways, my life was just average, with parents who fought about needing to spend more time together.”
“And now?” He comes strolling in, plopping down, arm across the back, facing me.
“Well, eventually things got better. He worked his way up in the factory to management. The house eventually was paid off. Niki and I were older so they were able to do more just the two of them.”
“Did that upset you?” He lays a hand on my leg. Palm up.
Hand hug.
Reaching out, I grab it, scooting a few inches closer. “Yes and no. I mean, I loved that our parents were finally happy. When they were happy, Niki and I were too. You know?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m just thankful they got to travel before my mom got sick…” I take a deep breath before saying the words I haven’t said in years. “…with breast cancer.” I look up to the ceiling, rubbing my temple with one hand, while still holding his with my other hand.
Kyle doesn’t try to say anything. Just being here, listening, is enough.
“When she found the lump, it was too late. She tried to fight, but it took her over so fast…” The tears begin to fall and instead of running to the bathroom, I do the one thing I have been afraid to do, ask for help. “I need you.”
I break my hands free to wipe the tears and before I can say anything else, Kyle is enveloping me in his arms. “I got you.”
“Kyle, it was so bad. I was a senior in high school when my mom passed and my dad…”
“Shhhh…”
“He shut down, Kyle. He checked out and died of a broken heart. He fell asleep one night and didn’t wake up the next day. Died of a massive heart attack.”
In this moment, I release the years of holding it in, letting Kyle hold me as sobs rack my body.
“I got you,” He whispers over and over again, rocking me in his arms. “It’s going to be okay.”
And here, right now, I know they will be because he makes me believe they will.
Nina
“Hey sleepyhead,” Kyle whispers in my ear.
“Mmm.” I reach down and pull the blanket back up over the both of us.
Both.
Of.
Us.
Me.
Kyle.
Oh! My! God!
Throwing the cover back, I lift myself up, arching my back. “Did we?
“No, we didn’t…I wouldn’t.” He reaches for me. “Come back.”
“I need to go.” I start to move to get up, but what he said has me wondering. “What do you mean you wouldn’t?”
“Oh! I definitely would and if you keep on moving like that,” he holds my hips down, trying to still my movements, “you are going to see exactly how much I want to.” He winks. “But, something tells me you aren’t ready for that and Nina, I’m perfectly fine with it.”
“Why do you have to go and say stuff like that?” I collapse back onto his chest, burying my face.
Last night, he held me until the tears stopped flowing and even then, he curled me under his arm while we watched movie after movie. I knew I should’ve had him take me home the minute we both started getting drowsy, but I didn’t want the feeling to end. Especially after I got a taste of what this could be.
“Nina, don’t go,” he whispers a plea, brushing a simple kiss across my lips.
There was nothing sexual about it. Just a guy who wanted a girl to stay and a girl saying yes.
Staying the night wasn’t really the plan. So, when I woke up after one of the best nights of sleep I ever had, I was confused until I felt him. A tad rough, yet tender.
“Well, I like to think honesty is the best policy.” He chuckles, his laugh vibrating through me.
“Is that so?” I lift my head, covering my mouth to shield him from the dreaded morning breath.
“Yep.” He pulls my hand down. “Don’t hide.”
“I haven’t brushed.” I put my hand back in place and he smiles.
“You’re too damn cute.” He grins, gum between his teeth.
“You have gum?” I bring my hands up, placing them on his chest.
“Sure do.”
“Gimme.”
“It’s in my front pocket, just reach in…” He suddenly stops.
“What?”
“You better not.” He places a hand on my lower back, shifting our bodies, to free a hand and secure me a piece of minty freshness.
“Oh!” I pretend to see what he’s talking about, but it’s the bulge further south that is causing me to get a little excited.
“Here.” He unwraps the piece, placing it into my mouth and setting the wrapper on the coffee table.
“Honesty, right?”
“Always.”
