by Tyla Walker
“Your loss, baby. But I’m gonna see my kid. He’s not growing up with this pretty boy bad mouthing me all the time. I’m not going away, Cindy. You can’t run me out of this town. It’s my town. I grew up here.”
“And then you left,” I throw back at him. “Since you have some experience with that, why don’t you see yourself home? Get the fuck out of here.”
“Fuck you.” Andrew yells, and almost turns to get back into his truck. Then, almost as if he thought better of it, he turns back to face us.
I’m a head taller than him and a few years younger. From the looks of him, I’m definitely in better shape, too. He’s had years of heavy drinking and probably some hard throws from horses that knocked him around a bit. Plus, at the moment he’s wasted, and I’m sober as a Sunday School teacher.
Andrew takes all of this in too, and I watch him weighing his options. He glares at me, purses his lips, and spits onto my boot. ‘Coward,’ I think, giving him a smug smile. He turns away and heaves himself into the driver’s seat. Once he’s settled, he takes another hard pull from his flask.
He throws the thing into gear, then squeals off into the dark. I let out a sigh before turning back to Cindy. There are tears in her eyes, but she’s working hard to blink them away.
“What the fuck?” Cindy asks and then she starts to laugh. The stress of the past few minutes has caught up to her. And to me. I’m laughing with her, thinking of Cindy swinging that baseball bat at Andrew’s head. As she stops laughing she cuts her eyes over to me.
“Thank God you came back,” she almost whispers.
“It looked like you were handling yourself alright with that baseball bat,” I say. I place a hand gently on her back. Now that Andrew’s gone and we’re no longer pretending to be a couple, I’m tentative about touching her.
“Remind me to give Ernesto a raise.”
“Are you alright?” I ask. She looks up at me, and I see the tears never really left her eyes. I want to draw her into my chest and let her cry, tell her to let it all go. But I’m waiting for some sign from her. ‘Do you want me to hold you?’
“I should have known it,” Cindy says. “I just feel so stupid. I thought he was gone for good. I practically put him out of my mind. Like some bad dream that didn’t really happen.”
“And now the nightmare’s alive and in the flesh.”
“Exactly.” Cindy wipes her eyes and takes a breath. I watch as she pulls herself together and tries to put that two-headed-monster-Andrew out of her mind. She looks up at me with a fierce gaze, both grateful and questioning.
“Fiancé?” She asks me.
I can’t help letting out a small laugh as I shrug.
“If you’ll have me.”
* * *
Twelve
Twelve
Cindy
Did I hear that right? I know I look startled, jaw hanging wide enough to catch flies. Is he actually asking me to marry him? He barely knows me. I barely know him. He was just thinking on his feet. Right?
“Sorry, I meant…” I’m searching desperately for the right words. My ears are still ringing with adrenaline and my knuckles have turned white gripping Ernesto’s bat.
He smooths back his hair and casts his gaze around the restaurant.
“It’s all good. We should probably lock up and get you home,” he says, taking the bat from my grip and the keys from the counter. Suddenly I’m back on planet earth where it is very late.
“Oh shit, I’ve got a sitter tonight.” I pull out my phone to call her. She’s only in high school, so her parents are firm about her curfew. She lets me know Nate’s fast asleep, so I tell her I’m on my way and she should head on home. I hate to leave Nate alone in the house, but a reliable sitter I can afford is a rare and precious commodity.
Hank is waiting for me at the front door, hovering protectively. It’s almost like he expects Andrew to come squealing back into the lot at any minute. Hell, me too.
“Everything’s locked up,” he says. “Do you need to do anything else?”
“I just need to get the hell out of here,” I sigh, stepping out into the yellow light of the parking lot. Then I lay eyes on my car. My damn car with its dead battery. My shoulders slump. Hank steps up next to me matching my gaze.
“That car is still basically a lawn ornament, isn’t it?”
“It’s been such a crazy day. I forgot all about getting a tow,” I say. “This day is just not going my way.”
“Well I am,” he says. “I know where you live.” Before I can protest he’s opened the passenger door of his truck. I know he’s fibbing. My place is absolutely out of his way, but I pull myself up into the cab with relief.
I feel safe in here, warm and protected. I could get used to riding shotgun with him. I’ve spent the last few years learning how not to need someone else, but Hank is turning all that upside down. Does he know what he’s doing to me?
We ride in the glow of the radio, Hank’s classic country station low and soothing. It’s not my thing, but when Willy Nelson comes on I smile a little. If you grew up in my house, you had to love Willie.
The gravel crunches as Hank pulls into my drive. We sit in the idling truck for a breath and then I lift the handle. My heart starts to race. I can’t leave it like this. I don’t know what’s happening between us. I don’t know how he really feels, but I know I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t get some answers. I let go and a turn back to Hank. He’s gripping the wheel, staring at my garage.
“Nate’s inside, or I…”
He blushes.
“Of course. I wasn’t expecting you…”
“Oh, I didn’t think you…”
We are both talking over each other and I feel like an idiot. We fall into silence.
“I’ve got a dribble of bourbon left,” I say. “Meet me in the back yard.”
I don’t wait for his reply. Either he will or he won’t, and I’m just too damn spent to worry right now. I peek in on Nate. I will never stop loving the sight of my baby boy sleeping peacefully. I grab the bourbon and then step out the back door.
There he is, perched on the end of my cheap old lawn chair. His thigh muscles pressing against his jeans and his big hands knotted in his curls. A hot flame licks up from my clit to my belly. I want him. Like I haven’t wanted anyone in years, like I had forgotten how to want. I need to get a grip. I inhale the dewy night air and it steadies me.
“I swear to you,” I say as I pour the drinks, “My life isn’t always this dramatic.”
He laughs.
“Well, I swear to you, I don’t normally go around announcing engagements out of nowhere.” He blushes again. It makes me want him even more.
“It just came out of my mouth. I just needed to defuse him, y’know? I’m sorry.”
“Are you kidding?” I say. “It was brilliant. Andy looked like he’d swallowed a spider! I really owe you one.”
Hank meets my gaze and holds it.
“If Andy wasn’t such a piece of shit, I’d feel sorry for him,” he says. “Losing a woman like you. He must kick himself every damn day.”
The hot flame licks through me again. Now I’m blushing.
“Andy just wants what he can’t have,” I say, trying to control my heartbeat.
We’re still locked in each other’s eyes. I have so many questions I want to ask him. I look away. This man could really hurt me if I let him in. Suddenly he shifts forward and is sitting on the edge of my chair, his leg pressing into mine. He puts down his glass.
“I know you’re a Mom before anything else,” he says. “And a damn good one. You’ve got so much you take care of. I feel like I might have moved too fast for you last night. And then I left that stupid note. I hated leaving early, but Ma sometimes forget her meds, so…Hell, just, I’m sorry if I messed up with you.”
“God no!” I say and put my hand on his. “I’m sorry things got so crazy and we couldn’t talk. I thought you might have got gun shy. I didn’t want to make it weird,
you know…being your boss and all.”
A sly smile creeps across his perfect lips.
“Oh dang, did we violate company policy?”
He brings his mouth right up to mine. I can smell the pit smoke lingering in his hair mixing with his own intoxicating scent.
“We definitely did,” I whisper.
I lower my face to his neck and bite.
He takes my earlobe between his teeth and pulls gentle and firm. Shivers run through me.
“Are we going to do it again,” he whispers.
My body is on fire now. My lips are full I’m worried they will soak though my jeans. The crickets, the distant highway and the beating of our hearts become a symphony of desire. I’m giddy and I want him, but suddenly my face is wet. And my arms. It’s raining. Out of nowhere the sky is opening up. I leap up.
“Oh, hell no,” I say. “I just got my braids done. I am not letting the rain ruin six hours of my life!” I bolt up the back door, pulling Hank with me. Out of nowhere the rain is sheeting down around us. We wrap ourselves into each other in the tiny shelter of my back awning.
His arms are firm and warm. In the distance lightning flashes across the sky. I want so badly to ask him in, but everything is already so complicated. If Nate woke up…
He takes my face in his hands and looks into my eyes. I can feel the calluses and scars from his years in kitchens, but his eyes are soft and warm. I swear he can read my mind.
“Go inside to your baby,” he says. ”We don’t need to rush anything. I know you’re worth the wait - boss.”
He steps out into the raindrops.
“Hank?”
He turns back. I suddenly feel awkward again, but I have to ask.
“You know, Andy really did seem defeated by our engagement,” I say. “I don’t want to put you in a tight spot, but are you okay if we just let him think it’s true for a few days? Just until I can figure out how to handle him being back. And with Nate and all.”
His shirt is beginning to cling to his sculpted chest and he cracks his wide smile.
“Are you asking me if I mind having folks think the most beautiful woman in the whole damn state has agreed to marry my useless carcass?” he says. “ I surely do not mind.”
And he strides into the dark, leaving me leaning against my back door in what my Momma would have called “A state.”
Thirteen
Hank
“Hey little man, what’s up?”
I look up from the brisket I’m slathering with sauce to see Ernesto holding out his hand to get a high-five from Nate. The boy’s busy reading a comic book as he walks into the kitchen. Superman this time, but he half-heartedly touches his palm to Ernesto’s without looking up.
“Mom says I can have some ice cream.”
“I dunno,” Ernesto says to Sarah. “Do you think we can trust him?”
Sarah smiles and sets down her knife to get the ice cream from the freezer.
“Chocolate or Vanilla?” She asks as she goes.
“Both?” Nate asks. It’s the first time he’s looked up from his comic book since walking in. He gives Sarah a hopeful look, and she gives in with a smile, nodding at him. As the kitchen goes back to its usual hum of activity, I keep an eye on Nate across the room. Well, that is when I’m not stealing glances at Cindy rushing around the dining room. God she’s charming,’ I think as she tops off coffee and takes orders, smiling at everyone.
I’m also keeping an eye on the front door. After Andrew’s surprise visit last night I half expect him to burst through any minute. The other half of me wonders if he’ll stay away like a dog with his tail between his legs. That’s probably more likely. ‘He’ll stay away until he has a plan,’ I think.
When I showed up for my shift earlier, Cindy discreetly pulled me into the walk-in freezer before I even had my apron on.
“Hey there,” I said before dropping down to take her mouth in mine. For a moment, she gave in. I felt her mouth relax and her hands found their way under my shirt and up my back. She opened her lips and let my tongue slip into her mouth. I heard her groan before she pulled away.
“Enough of that,” she said.
“So, you didn’t drag me into the freezer to make out?” I asked, as I smiled at her and put a hand on her cheek.
“Sadly, no. We’re already busy out there.”
“What’s up?”
“I just wanted to show you.” Cindy lifted up her left hand to show me a ring that she wore on her middle finger. It was a simple band with a small stone in the center. Up close you could tell the stone was plastic or cubic zirconia, but if no one looked too closely it could certainly pass as an engagement ring.
“If Andrew comes in I’ll switch it to my ring finger. I thought it would make it seem more real. In case he starts poking around here, you know.”
“Of course. But if I ever propose to you properly you’ll be getting a much better ring,” I said as I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm, letting my tongue linger.
As I think about it now I can’t help kicking myself. ‘If I ever propose to your properly?’ The woman’s going to think I’m crazy. I barely know her and I’m talking about a proper proposal. I return to the meat in front of me and keep going over it in my mind, trying to read Cindy’s thoughts as I watch her through the window in the dining area.
“Can I watch?”
Nate’s behind me, his ice cream bowl nearly empty.
“Sure thing. But there’s not much to do now. Barbecue’s a waiting game. Hop on up here.” I grab Nate by the waist and he jumps up to sit on the table behind me.
“Uncle James says you have to have patience. That the best pit masters know when to do nothing.” Nate sets his ice cream bowl down next to him. His comic book is closed too.
“So, what? We’re not doing anything?”
“Not really,” Nate shrugs.
“Aren’t we getting to know each other?” Nate doesn’t respond. He looks at the cover of the comic book he’s laid on the table. I think about the poor kid’s past few days. After years without a father, Andrew shows up claiming he wants to know his son. It’s a gamble, but I broach the subject.
“That was pretty crazy with your dad showing up, wasn’t it?”
He doesn’t look up and only shrugs again. It seems to be his go-to response.
“You know, I didn’t have a great dad either.”
“Really?” He asks.
“Really. I don’t think he really liked having a kid. He didn’t want me around much.”
“But I bet your dad didn’t show up all of a sudden. And I bet your mom didn’t yell at him in front of everyone. The whole school knows about it.”
Poor kid. In a town like this, everyone knows everyone’s business. I can only imagine what he dealt with at school today. I sit on the table next to him and listen to the meat hiss and the logs pop underneath the smoker.
“That sucks, man. Kids are awful.”
“Yeah. They suck.” Nate peeks up at me. “I’m not supposed to say the word ‘suck’”.
“I won’t tell,” I whisper. He smiles and looks down again.
“Here’s the thing, Nate. You and I are actually really lucky, I think.”
“We are?”
“Yeah. Because even though we don’t have great dads, we got some of the best moms in the whole world. I mean, your mom is out there working hard right now, and then she’ll take you home and work hard there too. And, even with that, still she’s smiling at everyone. And I bet she even reads you comic books at night and lets you have dessert after dinner.”
“I can read by myself.”
“Of course. Yeah, of course man. But she would do it, right?”
“Sometimes she lets me stay up with her and watch TV.”
“See? Don’t you think that’s pretty lucky? Some people don’t even have one great parent.” I let the silence stretch out for a while, seeing if Nate will continue the conversation.
“My mom said you
moved here to take care of your Ma.”
“I did.”
“But you didn’t grow up here.”
“No. My mom and dad moved here after I graduated high school. I grew up in Kansas.”
“Where’s your dad?”
“He died a few years ago.” My mind drifts back to that phone call with my mom when she told me the news. I was just starting in the barbecue scene, working hard on my recipes and starting to win some competitions. “You know, I didn’t even go to his funeral.”
“You didn’t?”
“Nope. My Ma wasn’t too happy about that. But I wasn’t interested in stopping my life for a man who didn’t want me to be a part of his.”
Nate nods as if he understands this, and I feel a pang of sadness at his serious expression. ‘Too heavy,’ I tell myself. ‘He’s just a kid.’
“I think this meat needs a flip. Want to help?”
Nate jumps down from the table and watches eagerly as I lift the lid on the smoker. I’m nervous about leaving the lid open for too long and letting the temperature drop too much, but I stifle this fear and hand some oven mitts to Nate. Then I pass him a pair of tongs, the closest utensil I can find for him to hold, and together we flip the brisket.
“Alright, now close it up quickly.”
“We don’t want to let the heat out,” Nate says, eager to show off his knowledge. I imagine he’s been watching his Uncle James work since he was a toddler.
“That’s right. You know, we should add your name to the ‘Specials’ board tonight: ‘Brisket by Nate’.”
He smiles, but I sense there’s something else he wants to say. His mind seems stuck on our previous conversation.
“Are you angry at your dad?” I ask.
“I know he wants to see me,” Nate says. “But...I wish he never came back.” He looks at me, and for the first time in our conversation Nate is really watching me, looking to see what I’ll say.
