My friend grabs my arm and pushes me out of the double doors into the back storage room. “It’s Clover and Goldie,” he says. “How did you not know she was coming?”
I cough, shaking my head. Nausea hits. “Well Einstein, you think I was stalking her social media for no good reason? That’s why I was obsessing.” Half of why I was obsessing.
“I thought you were trying to hunt down the guy she’s fucking. Didn’t know you were keeping tabs on her.” That’s all it takes to lose it altogether. Shuffling outside, I toss my cookies next to a rusted dumpster. Bent follows me out, the heavy metal door slamming shut. My hair is wet with sweat and I have on the same shirt as last night. A mess would be a nice way to describe my appearance. The thought of the woman I love fucking another man is terrifying, enraging. “Alright, alright,” Bent coos. “Get it all out.” He peeks down the alleyway to make sure no one is coming, and I vomit again missing our shoes by a few inches.
Leaning up, I brace my hands on my hips, catching my breath. “I haven’t been this drunk since high school.” I wipe at my face with my sleeve.
Bentley makes an annoyed noise. “You were this drunk last night. Why don’t you sober up and actually talk to Clover? Give yourself some closure of this whole thing. Or I can call up Billy-Jo and you can get this out of your system in an alternative way. What do you say, pal? Tit for tat?”
He’s trying to be helpful, wants to be a friend, but he doesn’t have a damn clue. I shake my head and stuff my hand into my pocket and pull out my mom’s diamond ring. I hold it up in front of my face. “I was going to ask her to marry me. It’s not something I can fuck out of my system. She was going to be my forever girl.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. My jaw works as I grind my teeth. “I need to give it back to my mom before I lose it.”
Bentley snatches it from my hand and holds it behind his back, his gaze surprised, glaring at someone over my shoulder. “My God, Goldie you are as bright as the sun,” he drawls.
I spin. Sure as shit. There’s Goldie, all perfect hair and makeup. “Good Lord, Mercer, did you sleep in that dumpster last night.” She winces, plugging her nose. “Good to see you, Bentley. Thank you for that compliment, you’re looking as fresh as ever.” Goldie’s accent is almost completely gone now. “You,” she says. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”
“I don’t have my phone,” I slur, holding a hand on my stomach all the while on alert for Clover. My phone pings from my pocket.
Goldie crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “She didn’t see your eloquent escape, but I did. Don’t worry. It’s just us. Bentley, would you excuse us for a moment, I have a bone to pick with this youngin’.”
Bent bows. “Of course, ma’am. Maybe we can catch up later? I’ll buy you a drink.” His eyes are bright and earnest, looking at Goldie in more than a casual way.
Goldie softens. “Sure. That sounds nice.”
Bent celebrates, shaking fists in the air. “Mercer, I’ll wait for you in my truck. Can you find it okay?”
Goldie answers for me. “I’ll make sure he gets to your truck. This will only take a few minutes.”
Why do I feel like I’m about to be tortured? My headache thumps against my skull. My friend abandons me with this scary, perfumed monster. Goldie was always the scary older girl in Greenton. There was a way she would catch your eye, lick her lips, and make you feel like she could kill you without making physical contact. Through the haze, I realize Goldie seems softer, a concern in her gaze that was never there before.
She pulls me away from the dumpster and my pile of puke. “You going to remember this conversation tonight?” she asks.
I sigh. “Depends on what you’re askin’ me to remember, darlin’.”
Goldie smacks me across the face. Hard. It’s going to leave a red mark. I cradle my cheek. “What’s that for?”
“First off, calling me darlin’, it’s not the stone age. And it’s for not calling Clover when you got home from deployment. It’s also because a good thump will help sober your dumb ass up. What’s your deal? Something bad happen to you overseas? Something so awful that you leave your girlfriend pining without even a text?” She holds out one manicured finger. “It better be good, Mercer Ballentine. I better believe it. You don’t know what she’s been going through all these months without you in Cape Cod. There was only so much I could do for her. Your circle is ruthless.”
Swallowing, I realize I’m going to have to do this drunker than Grandpa on Thanksgiving. “Listen,” I whisper. “I didn’t call her when I got home because I wanted to surprise her.” That doesn’t give too much away.
“And? She’s still waiting? You got back four days ago. Four. I know this because Sierra came into the salon the day before you guys rolled in and told me her boyfriend was coming back. I waxed her vagina and put in new highlights. Figured your ass was with him. Clover didn’t hear that of course, but she heard from someone else at the grocery store that you were home. You’re here drunk, so is that her surprise? Man, she’s a lucky woman.” Goldie raises one brow. “There’s a reason beauty is wasted on the young, you’re blooming idiots.”
I turn away to look at the brick wall of the bar, trying to catch a breath without tasting puke. “I’ll just come out with it then. Her fucking neighbor. I saw her with him. Clover had on sexy pajamas. It was really early in the morning.” Vomit rises at the horrible thought—transporting myself back into that moment. “He was shirtless.” I meet Goldie’s eyes. She seems confused, brows furrowing. “They kissed.” I sigh, shaking my head. “I should have killed him right there. I want to kill him right now. Still.”
“Wait,” Goldie says, adjusting her purse strap on her shoulder. “You saw Clover, kissing Jack?”
That’s right. The fucker has a name. An annoying one. The way Goldie says it like she’s surprised makes it more infuriating.
“He saved the bird from the chimney and she kissed him. They both came out of her house. Like he was sleeping there. I saw everything, Goldie. She’s the one who owes explanations. I’m not a bad guy.” I lay my other palm on the wall next to us. “I’m drunk right now, but in no universe am I at fault, you hear me?” My vision is double, and I stagger away from Clover’s cousin out of the alley, toward the street and the parking lot. I need to get out of here. Now that Clover is in Greenton I’ll have to hide out in places less public.
Tannie is walking with a man, heading toward the DR entrance. I don’t recognize the man at first, but he sees me before Tannie does and his gaze locks with mine. It’s the fucking neighbor. I don’t think about anything else this time. I’m on alcohol instead of coffee and that’s all that matters. Jack’s eyes widen as I approach and cock my fist back. I clock him in the face. Tannie screams as the fucker hits the pavement, cradling his eye.
“You are a bastard,” I mutter, eyes glassed over. Goldie runs over and pulls at my arms from the back.
“Mercer,” she screams.
“Ballentine,” Goldie says firmer this time. “Jack is gay. He’s gay! I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t what you thought.”
“What?” I spin to face Goldie, adrenaline mixing with bourbon. “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I know what I saw. Don’t try to stick up for her. Clover is a liar.”
Jack releases his eye, hand shaking. It’s already bruising and there’s a split with blood dripping down to his lip. “She’s quite right. I’m gay. One hundred percent gay actually. Don’t worry, you’re not my type if that’s the issue,” he reaffirms. “I’m here to meet a guy Clover is setting me up with. Nice to meet you, by the way. Guessing you’re Mercer Ballentine then?” His voice creaks with pain. Oh, balls.
The bells of the Dizzy Rocket front door jingle and I know I only have a few seconds before everything crashes down around me. “Fuck,” I mutter. Then because I’m a goddamn gentleman, I eat crow and say, “I’m sorry. I really am.”
Then, I run haphazardly, in the opposite direction, to the parking lo
t on the other side of the building where Bentley’s truck is idling. I get in, whole body shaking. “Fucking drive. Fast and far,” I tell my friend. “I fucked up, Bent.” My breaths are quick, and I can’t catch hold of the erratic pace of my heart.
“Which time?” he asks. “You’re looking mighty sober right now, so my guess is a new fuck up then?” Bent pulls out of the parking lot. He looks right and sees the scene I just left. Except Clover is out there now, fussing over Jack’s face. “Oh wow. Grade A fuck up. Gotcha.”
I blow out a breath. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Always start at the beginning, pal. You know that.”
I open his glove compartment. “Got anything to drink in here?” I’m frantic for escape.
Bless my best friend, he pulls a plastic bottle of Jack Daniel’s from under his seat and tosses it in my lap. I tell him the whole story, slurring through the kiss I saw and how I could have misconstrued the whole scenario. This is a nightmare I created. The chance to clear the air and stop this from snowballing was immediately after it happened. Now, I’m going to have to think of a Clover sized scheme to fix it. I pass out before we get wherever Bent is taking me, though, too drunk to even dream.
_______________
I open one eye first. I’m in bed at my parents’ house. My first thought after checking my watch is that I wish the past four days were a dream. Or a nightmare. Anything except reality. The engagement ring is sitting on the bedside table with a note from Bent. Your dad’s speech is at seven. Coffee in pot downstairs.
Sitting up, I hold the sides of my head trying to erase my splitting headache. I trudge to the bathroom, take something for the pain, and crank on the shower. I grab my toothbrush off the ledge, pour on some toothpaste and give my teeth and tongue a severe scrubbing. After I wash the last twenty-four hours off my body, I step onto the bath mat a changed man. My resolve is firm, and I know what needs to happen. Whether it works is a whole different matter entirely. Clover is here in Greenton. I need to talk to her. It was a misunderstanding. I think. First, I’ll start at the source. I grab my phone out of the pocket of the jeans laying on the floor. I scroll until I find the name Preston, and hit call.
Chapter Nineteen
___________________________________
Clover
“WHY WOULDN’T HE come to me and ask?” I cry out, holding Goldie’s hands over the picnic table. We’re in the middle of the town square and everyone is gathering for Mr. Ballentine’s speech. Well, everyone except my daddy. I expect he’ll willow on in fashionably late and try to hide in the back. Mr. Ballentine won the election by a landslide and I think that’s the sole reason Daddy didn’t blow a gasket and start a crusade against the world. Well, and he has good sense and stuff. It’s going to be a different way of life for him. It’s already wildly different.
He has plans to add on to my women’s shelter and is working on enhancing the work program for men as well. Mama says he’s doing everything and anything to fill his time to avoid clearing out his office downtown. A laughable point when you know he has a two thousand square foot office in his house. It’s merely a matter of pride and predictability at this point. I almost feel bad for Winnie for having to deal with him since the loss.
“Really, I just can’t believe he was there, in his house, watching me out there in my pajamas havin’ Jack chase my bird, and he didn’t come over. Surprise me? Like how? Jump out of a cake? I’m so lost, Gold. I really just don’t even know what’s going on right now. I’m sad, too. He ran from me today. What am I to make of that?” Not just a regular run, either. Bentley squealed out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.
Tannie sits down next to me on the bench and sets the three beers she just purchased in the center of the table as Goldie tries to comfort me. “Honey, he was so drunk he couldn’t tell which way was up. I told you he didn’t know Jack was gay. It was a complete mess. Maybe he’ll show up soon and you can talk to him about it. I’m as surprised as you are that he’s in ‘Bama. We came to support your daddy in his…time of need.”
That we did. This election was a big deal. Anytime I called home over the past four months it’s all I heard about. From my friends and my parents. Both candidates campaigned hard and I felt guilty the entire time. Like I was sleeping with the enemy. Except unfortunately, I wasn’t. Not even once. Not even a little bit. Unless personalized dildos count, that is.
I take a sip of beer. “Maybe I don’t want to talk to Mercer. Maybe he’s a jerk who is so drunk on testosterone that he can’t make rational decisions.” Translation: I am terribly hurt that I wasn’t the first thing he wanted when he got home. If the tables were turned, I would have been breaking windows and walls to get to him. To touch his skin and feel his lips against mine.
Tannie clears her throat, circling the brim of her beer cup with her forefinger. “Or he’s a man who just got home from war. Who maybe might be lacking self-confidence because of his absence. You have a whole new life in Cape Cod and he has nothing to do with it.” Goldie and I both turn to stare at my friend. Tannie shrugs, raising her brows. “Think about it, Clover. He’s away from you and home and everything that’s familiar, doing heaven knows what. He’s getting snippets of home from you, but he’s detached. If I put myself in his shoes, and I saw what he saw between Jack and you, I think I would have come to the same conclusion.” Tannie drinks her beer while eyeing me. “It was a mouth kiss, right? You and Jack? Tell us again exactly what Mercer saw.”
Guilt rears and I can’t deny my friend is making sense. She grew leaps and bounds after I left. Tannie wrote off Joe after he got some eighteen-year-old pregnant and now she’s being the responsible adult she’s always strived to be. In other words, moving on from Joe and worrying about herself.
“Clover,” she says, prompting my response about the kiss with my gay friend.
I sigh and tilt my head back to look at the sky. “Yes, it was on the mouth. Like a peck though. One you’d give Gammy. Not like an ‘I want you in my bed type’ of kiss. He’s gay, it’s like kissing you.” I stab a finger at Goldie. “Or you,” I add, pointing at my friend. “God knows if I knew Mercer was watching, and knew he didn’t know Jack was gay, I would have given him a high-five for saving my bird. A gesture of thankfulness, guys. That’s all it was.” I think about what I was wearing.
The bird escaped up the chimney while I was making coffee early in the morning. I keep the cage open before I go to work to let him stretch his wings. He stretched them too farm trucking far that day. I threw on my running shoes by the sliding glass door and ran through the back yard to bang on Jack’s bedroom window. I was only going to ask him for a ladder, but he insisted on helping me.
“He’s a cop, he is used to helping people,” I remark, thinking about the situation from a different point of view. “I was just so thankful; I didn’t even think much about it.”
Tannie clears her throat. “But you can see how if that’s what he saw why he’d freak out a little bit? Whatever is going on between you guys was in fledgling stages before he left, right?”
Goldie makes a noise in her throat. “Totally fledgling. You should have seen the way they looked at each other.”
I throw up my arms. “Oh whatever. Still, if he thought that I was cheating on him with Jack, why didn’t he storm over there and fight me on it? Mercer didn’t even fight.” My own fight drains from my body. Everything I thought I knew about my relationship proved to be a lie.
Tannie groans. “Maybe he didn’t feel like fighting both at home and while he was deployed. I understand where he’s coming from.” She gets a far off look in her eye. “If I witnessed Joe kissing another woman, I wouldn’t approach them.” Tannie shakes her head. “I wouldn’t give him another second of my life.” She’s literally inserting herself into the story and playing pretend right now. I can see it on her face.
“You’re really annoying tonight, Tannie,” I say, wrinkling my nose. “Mr. Ballentine is going on the stage now,”
I say, noticing everyone around us staring in the same direction.
The stage has a large projection screen behind it still up from the weekly movie night in the park. An American flag is projecting on the white screen. I let my gaze dart around, a careful maneuver in case I find myself staring into his eyes. He’s nowhere to be found. I do see my daddy lurking near the back. I wave him over and he reluctantly leaves the light post and sits next to me on the bench. I hand him my beer.
“Where’s Mama?” I ask when he takes my cup and drains the rest of it.
“Don’t have to worry about drinking in public anymore now do I?” Daddy says, a dramatic flair to his words. “She’s somewhere, helping someone.” He’s not upset she’s not next to him and that is a revelation and proof of his changing ways.
I roll my eyes and hiss, “Oh, stop it. You will still help Mr. Ballentine. He’ll need your guidance. You’ve been mayor for as long as these people can remember. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Change is good,” he says, repeating the mantra he’s used since he discovered he wasn’t re-elected. “It’s going to be good for the town,” he finishes, trying to convince himself.
I’m about to begin listing all the good things he’s responsible for in Greenton, but Mercer Ballentine walks up on the stage holding his mama’s hand and my heart stops beating. The crowd cheers, beers held up in his direction. Mr. Ballentine waves and takes his wife’s hand. With Mercer in his uniform, they are literally a picture of perfection. Not the kind of perfect you see in the movies, the kind that happens in real life and everyone else calls bull crap because it seems impossible. The kind of perfect when you don’t have to fib, or lie, because reality is grander than anything anyone can make up. The family raises their held hands into the air.
“First off,” Mr. Ballentine bellows, the mic booming his voice through the speakers. “Can we get a little more celebratin’ for my son right here?” Cheers erupt. When they quiet, he goes on, “And the end of the war.” More rowdy chants and hollering.
Almost Had You Page 21
