Chapter 17
Chastity
“DidMr. Boucher next door cut the grass again?” I ask Nevaeh when I get home from my shift. “I’m going to have to bake him cookies.”
“No, it wasn’t the neighbor. It was Hank,” she says with a knowing look.
Instantly, I feel warm all over. “Oh. He just showed up?”
“With a lawn mower. And hedge clippers.” She’s eating a cup of instant oatmeal over the sink and shaking her head. “Then he said if I still need a job by the time his restaurant opens, I can be a server. I would start training about four weeks before open.”
Kicking my shoes off, I sit down at the kitchen table with a sigh. Today was my short shift of just eight hours, but I had done a lot of lifting. My back hurts. “That’s nice of him.”
“That’s him wanting to get with you.”
“Hush.” I immediately glance left and right, even though I walked right past Josiah in the living room watching cartoons. I know he can’t hear us. “Have you talked to your grandma? I’ve been meaning to call her, but time keeps getting away from me.”
“Because you spend every spare second with Hank.”
She’s right. He’s been over once at night after Josiah was in bed to watch a movie with me, and he’s brought me food four times at work during my break over the last ten days. Ostensibly, it’s when he’s visiting his grandfather, but Mr. Young himself told me Hank usually only visits him once a week. Which is still sweet and reminds me how much Hank loves his family, but four times is definitely a tiny bit suspicious. We also went to The Swamp Saturday night, but ended up sitting in Hank’s truck talking most of the time because bars aren’t really my scene.
I have not gone on any other dates since Nick. The Dylan date is on hold because he had a family emergency out of town, and I can’t say I’m disappointed.
“I don’t know if that’s true,” I say, because it feels like I need to put up a protest.
“Listen.” She points her spoon at me. “You know I support the idea of dating. But that’s not what you’re doing here. Or actually, that’s exactly what you’re doing, but with Hank instead of other guys, and y’all are pretending like you’re not. I feel like you need to have a conversation with each other about what is going on, because this isn’t nothing. The man is mowing your grass and trimming your bushes.”
We looked at each other and burst out laughing. “That sounded kind of weird.”
“It did, but you get what I’m saying. You can’t play around, Chastity. I know you. You’re going to end up hurt.”
That’s the last thing I want. “Why would I get hurt if we’re not even dating?”
“Because sooner or later, you’re going to hear that he hooked up with so-and-so, or you’re going to see him out with a woman who will have sex with him, and you’re going to be hurt. Admit it.”
I make a face. “I don’t like anything about what you just said. You’re right. I would be very upset if that happened, and why wouldn’t it happen? He’s thirty years old and enjoys a healthy s-e-x life.” I spell it out in case Josiah can hear us.
“At least someone is.” She tosses her oatmeal container in the trash. “I’m going crazy here, taking it slow with Parker. I don’t know how you do this whole dried-up prune thing.”
Prunes might be a slight exaggeration.
Then I remember there hasn’t been a penis inside me in five years, and I realize she’s one hundred percent right.
“Dried-up prune is a little harsh.” Nevaeh is pacing now, and it makes me nervous. “And why are you taking it slow with Parker if you don’t want to?”
“Because she wants to. And you’re still living like a seventy-year-old.”
It’s always been something of a joke between us, but she looks truly exasperated now.
“I like my life,” I tell her. “For the most part. Every part but the no man part. I’m still planning to see that Dylan guy when he gets back in town. He seems cool.”
“But you don’t really mean that. You want one man, and one man only. You want to settle down with Hank and make babies. God, just admit it.”
I’m a little stunned by the ferocity with which she’s speaking.
“I…” I can’t say it out loud. It sounds like I’m still clinging to a teenage crush.
“I’m not trying to upset you. Or push you. It’s your life, I know, I know.”
“I’m not upset. Though it is starting to feel like you think I’m too boring to be around.” I’m a little hurt, but at the same time, she’s young, she’s fun. She wants to go out and meet people, and she should. “Do you want to find your own place? Do you need space from me?”
She sighs. “I don’t think you’re boring. I love you. You’re my best friend. Hell, you’re family. And I love Josiah.”
“I know that.”
“But maybe once I have a little more money, it’s not a bad idea for me to find my own place. If we’re both going to be dating”—she gives me a pointed look—”we need more privacy.”
I swallow hard. I know this is right for Nevaeh, but it still makes me sad. “I understand. I’m going to miss you, but you need more excitement in your life. I get it.”
“I feel very restless. I don’t like this feeling at all.”
“Not having a job probably doesn’t help.”
“It doesn’t. I’m bored and broke. It’s a shitty combination.”
“That is a very bad combination. I’ve always been broke, but I’ve never had time to be bored.”
“It’s how I usually get in trouble.”
“Don’t do anything crazy.”
She grins. “I probably won’t. But I’m not making any promises.”
“Please don’t. You know that gives me heartburn.”
She laughs. “You are such a mom. And I mean that in the best way possible.”
I roll my eyes. “I am what I am. So aside from the fact that you’re…restless with Parker, is everything else with her going well?”
“I like her a lot,” she admits. “Which is scary.”
“Uh…how about you just enjoy it? Have fun? Take your own advice you gave me?” I’m thrilled for her. “You’ve put your life on hold to help me, and I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate that and you.” I reach out and give her a hug, even though she’s not a hugger.
“I didn’t put anything on hold,” she protests. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do, so nothing was being held up.”
“Well, whatever you want to call it, I’m happy if you’re happy.” I give a sigh. “Everything is changing. Josiah starting preschool, you moving out soon.”
“You falling in love with Hank Young…”
That makes me laugh. I mean it to sound casual, but the sound is a little louder than I intend. “Hey, do I think I should bake Hank cookies?” I ask. “I would if it was Mr. Boucher. I want it to be friendly, normal.”
“I think you should suck his dick, but that’s me.”
I laugh. “Stop! That’s so…”
“So what?”
“I don’t know. Intriguing.” I wonder if Hank is into that, then realize that’s a stupid question. I can assume most men are into that. “You know I have never actually done that.”
“I know. I can’t believe you’re the mother of a four-year-old, and you’ve never had a man in your mouth.”
“It’s called a cruel irony.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
I’m starting to wonder if she’s right. I’m getting all confused and jumbled. Then I remember that bad things happen right after whenever I’m with Hank. Well, with him, with him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she adds. “It’s written all over your face. That you’ll wind up pregnant again. Go on the pill. Get an IUD. Now. So you can stop using that as an excuse to deny yourself fun.”
More harsh truths. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’ll call the doctor tomorrow.” Better safe than sorry.” It is an avoidance tactic, always playing it safe.
“Good. Maybe then you can relax a little.”
I open the refrigerator and get out the eggs.
“I’m going to bake cookies.” I lean my head around the wall and call out to Josiah. “Come help me make cookies, baby.”
“Yay!” He jumps up and comes running.
“Turn the TV off first.”
He runs back and clicks the remote before dashing into the kitchen and going to the cabinet where his step stool is stored.
I text Hank.
Thanks for cutting the grass. That was really sweet of you.
You’re welcome.
I try to think of something else to say after that, but nothing seems right or necessary. I set my phone on the shelf above the counter that houses our microwave.
Suddenly, it occurs to me Hank could be with another woman right at this very moment. Why wouldn’t he be? He has every right to be.
As I help Josiah crack eggs one at a time, fishing out a few errant pieces of shell, I picture Hank meeting up with someone at The Swamp. Or going to The Swamp to find a random hookup. An experienced, sexually adventurous woman with no baggage and a penchant for incorporating food into sex. She’s probably older, in her mid-to-late thirties, with a smokey eye and a smokey laugh and total confidence in what she”s doing when she goes down on him. He’s enraptured by her boldness, by her worldly experience…
It makes me feel a little nauseated.
My phone buzzes. I just about leap for it.
It’s Rachel, my friend from nursing school.
Hey! What’s going on? We should hang out soon.
It’s great to hear from her. I don’t have a ton of friends, so I try hard to keep the ones I have. I’d love to hang out with Rachel.
But it’s not Hank.
Which clearly means he’s with this sultry brunette with painted-on jeans I’m picturing in my head. Maybe it’s a country music star whose tour bus broke down. Or a con woman on the run who is going to steal his money.
Or maybe it’s just Jeannette, who I went to high school with, who, like Faith, hates me.
I pour way too many chocolate chips into the batter. Twice as many as is necessary. I could use the chocolate for comfort. I’m going to have to double this batch anyway. I thought I would just make cookies for Hank and give Josiah one or two, but now I basically want to stick my whole face in the raw dough and eat it trough-style.
My phone buzzes again. It’s Hank.
Painting sucks. I just spilled an entire bucket of paint. On my feet.
Do I feel bad for him? Absolutely. Do I feel ridiculously giddy that he’s grinding away at Conviction, instead of grinding away on a woman at The Swamp? Yes.
Oh no! I’m baking cookies now. Want me to bring you some?
Yes. And a fifth of Jack.
I’m stirring absently.
“Mama!”
“Hmm?” I look at Josiah.
“You need to stir harder. Your butt needs to go like this.” Josiah does some kind of wild wiggling back and forth while his arm wildly approximates stirring.
I laugh. “Maybe you can try.” I hand him the spoon, knowing I’m probably about to get nailed in the face with a flying chocolate chip. Folding the chips in with Josiah is more like he tries to stir, but can’t get through the batter. The spoon gives way, scattering the chips like baking shrapnel.
But I don’t mind a little mess if he’s feeling included.
I pick up my phone and text Hank back.
I can be there in an hour.
You’re an angel.
I have no idea what I am, other than completely confused. I shove a chocolate chip into my mouth.
“Hey!” Josiah says, looking mortally wounded. “You said I couldn’t eat a chip.”
I did. So I pick up another chip and put it to his lips. “Here you go, baby.”
He smiles and my heart melts.
“Okay, my turn to stir.” I take the spoon and give him an exaggerated show of stirring, making him burst out in a childlike cackle that makes me laugh too.
This is what matters. This little man right here. Not who Hank Young is hooking up with.