Chapter 6 #2
A part of me, deep in my marrow, wants to look at Evangeline in that way.
I can’t stop thinking about her. I haven’t been able to really stop looking at her since Open House, if I’m being honest with myself.
Even then there was some energy or aura that you couldn’t miss.
An inner beauty that spoke to how compassionate of a woman she is.
I know she’s beautiful, and the way that Addie dotes on her paints this picture of everything we missed out on with her mom.
But I can’t put Addie and myself in a vulnerable position.
I can’t set us up to be disappointed by another woman that I misjudged so severely.
I refuse. The harsh reality of it is that I don’t think I’m misjudging her in the slightest. I think she’s truly everything I see in her and more than I could imagine.
The prospect of that reality is paralyzing.
But it’s not just letting a woman into our lives. It’s the small town gossip and the idea that she could probably lose her job even if I did pursue her.
My drone drops down beside me and I pack up my equipment, along with my feelings. The only difference is my equipment comes back to my SUV with me and I leave my feelings there. In that copse of pines. Where they’ll always stay.
Once I’ve got all of my equipment stowed and locked away in my office, I do a mental checklist of the ingredients I need to make dinner.
Today is typically pizza night which is one of mine and Addie’s favorite.
Homemade pizza that we make together and use whichever toppings we want for our own pizzas.
She always tells me she feels like a little chef when she’s making hers.
Little does she know, she can make way more meals on her own than the average seven year old.
I’m just getting in my car when I realize we don’t have any tomato sauce.
I usually make everything from scratch that we use for tonight’s dinner, but I just don’t think I have the mental capacity for it today.
I shoot off a quick text to Ms. Wilma letting her know I’m going to be a few minutes late so that I can stop by the store and grab some sauce.
Which of course, she has no problem with.
She loves spending time with Addie and I’m thankful for it.
I pull into the market that really only carries the essentials, and my objective is simple.
Get in, get out, talk to no one. I do a quick scan of the parking lot because in this town, we almost know everyone’s cars and who they belong to.
I release a deep breath seeing there probably isn’t anyone here that’s going to want to talk to me about anything.
The sliding doors swoosh and I’m hit with a blast of stale air from above me.
When Addie was younger, she would act like it was some kind of revolving door and continually go in and out just to feel the air hit her face.
Those are the simple kind of everyday memories that I hope I remember forever.
Our market is small, but besides the stale air that smacks you when you walk in, the rest of the store smells like the old wood it’s made of, and being someone in the timber industry I deeply appreciate it.
There are very few people here tonight and everyone seems set on their own shopping missions. Most of the time you’ll find people shooting the breeze together like the market is some kind of social hub for sharing the latest news and gossip.
I b-line it directly to the sauce, grab a couple of jars just so I have enough on hand for next time, and successfully make it to the self-checkout without incident.
The doors swish open and I walk back into the cool, mountain air, and I instantly feel refreshed.
That is until the crisp air is sucked straight out of my lungs by an argument I see unfolding in the parking lot.
There’s a man and woman in a heated disagreement, arms gesticulating and stances firm, mostly coming from the man. The woman I’d recognize in any crowded area. Picking her out of a Where’s Waldo? book wouldn’t even be a struggle. It’s Evangeline.
My feet are moving before I can even think better of it.
I can easily say this is none of my business, that it doesn’t involve me, but no man should even come close to talking to a woman the way he’s talking to Evangeline.
And basic decency aside, I’m irrationally overcome with an innate need to defend and protect this woman in particular.
I’ve crossed the lot faster than I thought possible, both of them so engrossed in the argument that they don’t see me coming.
Evangeline finally sees me right as I reach for the man’s shoulder.
I grip him much harder than necessary and it causes his body to bow sideways.
“Do we have an issue here?” The question is firm, harsh, and if Evangeline’s eyes are any indication, slightly intimidating.
The man, if you can even call him that, turns to face me and I recognize him as one of the dads from the open house.
He wasn’t too enthusiastic then and he definitely isn’t right now.
“Can I help you?” He spits back like I’m the problem here. I still have a firm grip on his shoulder even with him facing me, and based on how white her knuckles are, Evangeline is grabbing her shopping cart just as tightly.
“Yeah man, you can help me by absolutely never talking to a woman like that again.” He tries to shrug out of my grasp, but I don’t relent and he’s not strong enough to overpower me.
“Back off. This has nothing to do with you.” He commands and I can see Evangeline in the corner of my eye slowly trying to back away.
“Given that Ms. Jake is my daughter’s teacher, and that makes me just a little concerned about her well-being, it absolutely has something to do with me.
So how about you share your issue with me and we can see if it can be resolved without violence.
Because you’re towing the line of my patience right now.
” His eyes go wide like they’re taking in as much of the seriousness of my threat as they can.
“She’s your kid’s teacher too? Best of luck to you.
She’s the worst, and I want my kid out of her class.
” Evangeline shrinks in on herself a little at his remark and I’m vibrating with anger.
I release his shoulder and he winces slightly.
I needed to let it go or it was going to break in seconds with how spitting mad I am.
Men like this, who yell at women and make them feel small, are always the easily breakable ones.
I take a step closer to this coward, whose name I can’t even remotely remember at the moment, and I tower over him.
“August, please don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” I'm dimly aware that Evangeline is talking to me and just called me August instead of ‘Mr. Von’, but there’s no way I can’t ‘worry about’ what’s going on right now.
“First, consider yourself lucky that I’m allowing you to keep your teeth after a stupid comment like that.
” My fingers flex on the one hand with the impulse to punch him, but I’m honestly not a violent guy and I don’t want Evangeline witnessing something like that.
Maybe I can use my software skills to put some ridiculous virus on his computer, or hack his phone and change his autocorrect to something annoying.