6.
FARRAH
This morning, instead of having my coffee wearing no bra and without so much as a glimpse into the mirror, I pulled my hair into a cute messy bun, put on a bra and a T-shirt that almost matched my sleep pants, and then took the entire carafe and container of creamer out onto the porch with me.
I fumbled to get the door open with my hands full and casually stepped out onto the porch as if I didn’t have a care in the world while I forced myself not to look over at the field where I could hear the machinery starting up for the day.
Instead, I stopped dead in my tracks when I found five women crowding my front porch as they drank their coffee.
“Look who got all dressed up for the morning show,” Fiona teased. “In a different time and a place, I’d expect a hot man to walk out behind her, but no sense breaking the rules this early in the game.”
“Did all of you wake up extra early just to come over and give me shit?”
At the same time, they all said, “Yes!”
I turned around to go back inside, but then heard a loud honk and looked toward the field to find Lynn waving at me from the cab of one of the big machines. I couldn’t wave because my hands were full, but I did lift my coffee mug in greeting.
The women around me went wild - whistling and yelling as if Lynn could hear them while they made a show of waving frantically like they were trying to help land an aircraft.
I watched Lynn tip his head back as his body shook with laughter, and I resisted the urge to pour the carafe out on their heads. I probably would have if it hadn’t been five counts of assault and a waste of good coffee.
“Come on, Farrah! Tell us what happened last night.”
I frowned at Moe, but I knew it was inevitable. They’d hound me until I finally spilled all the details, so I sat down and smiled as I remembered the details of last night.
“Dinner was wonderful. I’m so full I’m about to pop!”
“Can’t have that,” Lynn said as he put the truck in gear and pulled away from the curb.
“I’m going to sleep like the dead. I think the server was trying to put us in a coma by refilling the bread basket so many times.”
“I wanted to ask you to dump that last round in your purse, but I resisted the urge.”
“If you promised to split them with me, I might have agreed to that plan.”
“Next time we go to that restaurant, make sure to put a gallon baggie in your purse, and we’ll fill it up gradually.”
I felt a jolt at the thought of him already making plans for us to not just go out again, but so often that we rotated back to the restaurant where we’d just eaten. I couldn’t figure out what else to say, so I agreed. “I’ll do that. If we fill it up a little at a time, they might not get suspicious.”
“I hope you’re not too full for what I have planned.”
“I’d be able to tell you if I knew where we were going.”
“You’ll find out in a minute. As soon as I turn on that light up there, you’ll probably figure it out.”
“I have no idea.”
“I was wondering earlier, but I didn’t ask - you’re not from here, are you?”
“I wasn’t born here, but I’ve lived here off and on since I was a kid.”
“And your son was raised here?”
“Yes.”
I could tell he was doing the math in his head, and I wasn’t ready to explain Colt’s childhood and all the trauma I had caused him yet, so I asked, “Were you born and raised here?”
“No. My ex-wife moved here a few years after our divorce, and I followed to be closer to my daughters.”
“That’s good.”
“I hated only being able to see them every other weekend, and if I had stayed down south, it would have been even longer between visits.”
“I’m sure they appreciated having you near.”
Lynn chuckled, but I could tell that he didn’t find it funny at all when he said, “Yeah. Being close to them came in handy many times.”
“Are you still close to them?”
“I am. We’ve had some bumps in the road, and life has made it hard to keep in touch at times, but they’ve still got my heart right along with my grandkids.”
“That’s sweet.”
I looked at the sign on the front of the building and gasped when I saw what was written there.
“You brought me to a dance studio?” I asked.
“I wanted to take you dancing, but you said you weren’t interested in going to a bar, so I improvised.”
“That’s so . . . Wow, Lynn!”
“You may not be quite so impressed if I suck at this. I can two-step and waltz just fine, but tonight, we’ll be doing ballroom dancing.”
“I’ve never tried that. I’ve seen videos, but I have no idea how to do any of the steps.”
“That makes two of us, honey.”
“Since he couldn’t take you to a bar, he took you to dance lessons?” Ginger asked. When I nodded, she whispered, “Holy shit.”
“He signed us up for six more classes. We go once a week.”
“Holy shit,” Taylor whispered, repeating Ginger’s sentiment..
“I’m not sure we should consider her the guinea pig,” Fiona mumbled.
“The what?”
“Listen, we didn’t say anything because we didn’t want you to feel any pressure, but you know how this whole thing . . .” Serana motioned to the houses around us before she said, “It’s a sort of trial. A work in progress. Never been done here. Zoey is flying by the seat of her pants, testing new waters, sort of experimenting.”
“Right.”
“You’re our experiment.”
“How am I . . .”
“We all want to tiptoe into the dating pool - at the complete opposite end of where we were fishing before, considering how all of that worked out. You’re the first, so you’re our guinea pig,” Taylor explained. When I just stared at her in confusion, she said, “You’re the trial run, Farrah. We’re watching you to see how we should proceed.”
“I’m not sure that this is a good test because he’s not natural,” Fiona added.
“He’s a book boyfriend, not a real boyfriend,” Moe chimed in.
“He’s not a boyfriend at all!”
Moe scoffed. “You made plans for the next six weeks. Very sweet, well inside your comfort zone plans, no pressure, just slow burn excitement. Book boyfriend.”
Serena agreed. “He is very much book boyfriend material, but he’s nudging toward actual boyfriend status, Farrah.”
“I barely know him. I promised myself that if I ever started dating, which I wouldn’t have if Moe wasn’t such a pushy hag, I’d find a guy that’s the polar opposite of any man I find attractive.”
“He’s definitely attractive,” Serena said as she lifted her mug toward where Lynn was working. I realized he was keeping an eye on us when he honked again.
“He has a job. That’s obviously a point in his favor,” Moe pointed out.
“He doesn’t just have a job, he owns the company.”
“And he still works?” Ginger asked. “I mean, obviously an owner has work to do, but he comes out here and gets dirty every day like a regular employee.”
“Yeah.”
“Obviously, he’s a horrible boss,” Moe drawled.
“What about family? He’s got some silver knowledge sprinkles, so he’s close to our age . . .”
“He’s fifty,” I interrupted Taylor. “He has two daughters, and it sounds like he’s close to them, but there’s some tension there I’m not sure about. And he has four, almost five grandchildren. When he talks about them, his entire demeanor changes and his face lights up.”
“Damn. He’s a dedicated father and grandfather. What an asshole,” Moe muttered sarcastically. “Next thing you’re going to say is that he’s a homeowner with a good credit score.”
“Oh, the horror!” Taylor said as she dramatically clutched her chest.
“How could he?” Ginger gasped, playing along with Taylor.
“The audacity!” Serena chimed in.
Moe and Fiona couldn’t add to the drama because they were too busy laughing at my exasperation and the antics of our friends. I wasn’t nearly as amused.
“I didn’t ask him about his credit score, and I don’t know if he owns his own home.”
“My guess is that he does, considering he owns a business. The man can clearly manage money because none of those monstrosities out there are cheap by any means.” Taylor looked over at Ginger and suggested, “Let’s Google and see what those things cost.”
Ginger laughed and said, “I don’t even know what those things are called!”
“That’s a land grader, and the one Lynn’s on is called a trencher,” I explained.
“Already looked ‘em up, huh?” Taylor asked.
“No. I asked him to explain what all of them did because I have no idea why there are so many machines out there working.” I laughed before I said, “Not that I’m complaining because I thought we were going to have to till all that land up and then water the plants with hoses or something.”
“He’s putting in irrigation?” Taylor laughed before she said, “Thank God!”
“Yes. But first, they have to break up the soil to make it easier to plant, build it up to a certain grade so there’s runoff and it won’t become a swamp when it rains, berm it up so that it won’t erode, and . . .”
“Does anyone else hear the teacher from the Peanuts cartoons?” Moe asked.
“I was listening!” Taylor retorted before she nudged Moe’s arm. “Ass.”
“It is fantastic, isn’t it?” Moe preened. When Taylor rolled her eyes, Moe laughed and said, “Okay, so you know what all of it does and we can tell by looking at the machines that they cost a mint, but we’re getting off track. How did the date end?”
I closed my eyes and sighed, which caused the women around me to laugh. I said, “Lynn is the first man I’ve kissed in years, and he did not disappoint.”
“Details, bitch! Remember, we’re living vicariously.”
◆◆◆
LYNN
The only thing keeping me from walking over to talk to Farrah was the fact that we were on a tight schedule with rain in tonight’s forecast. It would bench my entire team for a few days if we got as much as they predicted.
So, instead of going to get a good morning kiss, which I knew would be fantastic if it was anything like the kisses we shared last night, I was sitting in the tractor, busting my ass to cover as much ground as possible before we hurried to grade it and set up the berms. If we could finish in time, the storm on the horizon would actually help our work, letting us know if we were on the right track or needed to change our calculations and reset any of our plans.
It took everything I had in me to leave last night, but Farrah had sounded very firm when she explained that she wanted to take things slow.
We had so much fun at dance class, laughing together as we fumbled and stumbled through the steps the instructor was trying so valiantly to teach us that I didn’t even consider whether signing us up for the next six weeks of classes was too much too soon. Obviously, it wasn’t because Farrah seemed excited at the prospect of continuing our lessons and even seeing me again.
The problem was that I wasn’t sure I could wait a week.
I glanced over at the porch where she was sitting with her friends and remembered my shock when I realized that she lived on site. As a single woman who had recently moved to town, I didn’t blame her. The houses were brand new. I would know since I regularly subcontracted for Conner Construction, and just a few months ago, I had been the one to level the ground for their foundations.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at my watch to see that I had a text from Lanna. I waited until I got to a particularly smooth area and grabbed my phone from the cup holder to glance at her message.
School called. Berk and Brinn are in the office for fighting. I can’t pick them up - on the way to doc for my checkup.
“Shit!” I yelled before I replied, letting her know I was on my way to the school. As soon as that was sent, I picked up the radio to call my foreman. I stopped the machine and hopped out so he could take my place and took just a minute to tell him what I wanted him to do and that I’d be back as soon as possible.
I trusted Manuel to run the crew and knew that when I made it back to the jobsite, everyone would be working as if I’d been there the entire time. I expected no less, and neither did Manuel - that’s why I put him in charge.
◆◆◆
I had flashbacks to the days when my daughters attended this school every time I so much as walked through the parking lot. I’d been to countless school functions, from meet-the-teacher nights to holiday programs. Since the girls were in my custody now, there were even more in my future.
I had my license ready to scan so I could get a badge and be buzzed into the office. The second I opened the door, I could hear Berklee and Brinlee bickering.
The principal came around the corner with a frown on her face, and I instantly went on high alert. With Berk and Brin, there was no telling whether they’d jumped a kid on the playground or had been fighting each other. So far, the staff at the elementary school had been very understanding of the fact that the girls were going through a rough time with the changes going on in their lives, but I knew that grace would only extend so far, especially since the girls had decided violence was the answer today.
“Mr. Serrano,” Principal Eudy, a woman I’d known since she was a teacher when my daughters went to this school, said as she walked around the counter.
I wiped my hand on my jeans before I shook hers, mindful of the fact that I was covered in a layer of dirt, and then asked, “What’s going on?”
“Let’s go to my office and talk,” Mrs. Eudy suggested before she turned so I could follow her. Once the door was shut and we were seated, she explained, “The girls got into an argument, and it escalated quickly.”
“With each other?” Mrs. Eudy nodded, and I asked, “How? We put them in separate classes so that they could have their own space.”
“We had an awards assembly, and Berklee won a ribbon for the paper she wrote about her family.” When my eyes narrowed, Mrs. Eudy said, “My guess is you didn’t see the paper.”
“No. The calendar said that they were going to be working on it in class, and they haven’t brought anything home about it.”
“That’s what happened. Brinlee wrote about what’s going on at home and how much she misses her mother, but Berklee wrote an entirely different story.” When I frowned, she winced and said, “About how wonderful her family is, complete with Mom, Dad, and a dog named Rufus.”
“What the hell?”
“In her defense, Berklee’s teacher, Miss Williams, hasn’t been here for very long. She took over for Ms. Baker when she left suddenly for medical reasons.” I nodded because I’d seen the message about that on the school app. “Miss Williams wasn’t apprised of what had already transpired because the documents I’ve received from DCFS show that it’s all over and done with. You’ve got custody.”
“I do.”
“Miss Williams had no idea that all of it was a lie. That means Berklee will now lose the award she received because it was an autobiographical assignment rather than fiction. However, I’ve spoken to Miss Williams, and she insists that her work was excellent and she should at least get credit for how well the paper was written.”
“No. She doesn’t get points for lying,” I said firmly. “Tell Miss Williams that Berklee will be writing another paper, and she can be graded on that or get the zero she deserves. Either way, she’s writing another truthful paper.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
“Now, why are they both in the office?”
“We had an assembly that included all the third graders. Berklee was asked to read her story, and before she was even halfway through, Brinlee stormed the stage and punched her in the face.”
I looked down at my boots and sighed before I asked, “And then?”
Mrs. Eudy cleared her throat before she said, “It took a couple of teachers to separate them, and as you can hear, tensions are still high.”
“Shit,” I hissed before I looked up and found Mrs. Eudy smiling.
“They remind me so much of Lanna and Leanne that it’s uncanny.”
“If by uncanny, you mean terrifying, then I completely agree.”