Chapter 10
After dinner, the tour of Hume continued with a stop at the post office. Not your typical first date destination but … Wait was this a first date? Fancy literally dumped her boyfriend in front of me and I still wasn’t sure. We all know what happens with assumptions. You end up going in for a kiss at the end of the night and someone laughs in your face.
When we jumped out of my truck, Fancy scanned the building. The office was closed, so I’m sure she was wondering why I brought her here. “It’s the post office. Looks exactly the same,” she said.
“Yes, it hasn’t changed much.”
Fancy shimmied the skirt of her dress in place. This may not be a date, but Fancy had taken her time on the finer details. Her nails were red with cherries on them, which meant she hit up Arnelle shop for this occasion. Francesca’s curly hair was fluffy and made her look like a true rockstar. The body was tea with her dress hugging curves I’d long admired.
“So what are you about to show me, the new mailboxes?”
“No.” I held my hand out to her and my heart jerked against its reins in anticipation. Fancy’s eyes flickered from my face to my outstretched arm, sizing me up. When she slipped her hand in mine, my stomach fluttered like someone was inside, unspooling ribbon. We walked to the back of the building, and I pointed to an adjacent wall.
Fancy slowed in her tracks, dropping my hand, which I didn’t like, but it was worth it to see the look on her face. “Is this for real?”
“Yes.”
She spun around, shock etched across her face. “Edison, that’s a mural of Darla and me on the back of the hardware store.”
“I see it.” The lot behind the hardware store was home to a community garden. Figs and Twine partnered with the elementary and junior high schools, donating seeds and tools for the students to use to grow their own vegetables and plants. Dial and I took turns leading the classes. I had nothing to do with the mural, but I did think it was cool Fancy and Darla were kind of overseeing the garden and inspiring the kids who volunteered.
The mural was colorful and captured the vibrant spirit of Whiskey Wild. The two women were painted with guitars in hand. Fancy’s hair looked like it was in motion and her torso was bent back as her fingers played a riff. Underneath Fancy and Darla the name of the group was emblazoned in bold font.
“How long has that been here?”
“A few years.”
“Years? My mother has all the tea on what’s going on in Hume, but she forgot to mention this mural.” She pulled out her phone to snap some quick pictures. “This is unreal. Who made this?
“Some kids from the high school.”
“High school, are you shitting me?”
“Almost as impressive as the billboard in Times Square.”
Fancy shook her head in denial. “How’d you hear about that?”
“You know your momma likes to brag.”
“She is president of our fan club. But seeing how she never mentioned this mural, I may have to strip her of that title,” she joked.
“Listen you and Darla are global superstars, but some of us in Hume remember the humble beginnings and we are so proud.”
“I remember you were our security guard when we’d sneak into some sketchy bar a town over to perform. For a scrawny fella, you had one hell of a right hook.”
“When you’re skinny like I was, you have to be able to protect yourself. Plus, I grew up with Cyrus, Dial, and Ozzie picking fights all the time. I had no choice but to hold my own.”
“I know. I always felt safe when you were around.”
“That’s because you didn’t have any sense. We were three baby faced kids frequenting bars and taverns we had no business in.”
“True, but we got free beer after.”
“That was the least they could do since they weren’t paying you.”
“They paid us in beer and cheeseburgers. And they ignored our obviously fake ID’s.”
“Yeah, and I never got to drink because I was always the designated driver.”
“Well you couldn’t expect the talent to drive. We had to rest our vocal cords and guitar fingers.” She pressed her lips together to stifle a smile.
“Chauffeur, security guard, water boy.”
Fancy invaded my personal space, reaching for my hand with a squeeze. “Friend. You were a good friend.”
“Yeah.” And that’s what it boiled down to, Fancy always saw me as a friend and nothing more. The guy who’d lugged their guitars and equipment to the truck. The guy who held her hair back when she barfed. The shoulder to lean on when some dude that didn’t deserve her fucked up. And I was happy to fill the role. Because being Fancy’s friend was still important to me. I wasn’t her friend because I was in love with her. Love may be too strong a word. I admired her passion and perseverance. Francesca made me curious about a world beyond my backyard. She owed me nothing, and I learned to keep my expectations low. Fancy was my friend before anything else. And the fact that she still saw me as a friend after all this time meant what we shared was just as special to her as it was to me.
I wasn’t a pick me trying to get chosen. I genuinely wanted her to be happy. Sure, I thought I had the ability to make her happy. But the minute she got stars in her eyes, I knew I’d never be enough. She was too big for Hume and it was impossible and unfair of me to expect her to dim her light or make herself microscopic for me.
“Do you still play the guitar?” she asked.
“I don’t know if you can call what I do playing.”
“You’re being modest. I used to love to sing while you accompanied me on guitar.”
“You sang like an angel while I missed every other note.”
“You never missed a note. You never overpowered my voice. It’s like I was made to sing to your melody. You were so good without even trying. I wanted people to hear my music. Sing my lyrics so bad I could barely stand it. And you could take it or leave it.”
Instruments came easy to me. I’d been playing since I was seven, guitar, piano, and the trumpet. I was in band alongside Fancy and Darla. Music allowed me to feel things I couldn’t articulate. “I just wasn’t as passionate about it as you were.”
Studying my features, she asked, “What are you passionate about, Edison?”
Just because I was reserved didn’t mean there weren’t things that fired me up.
“I’m passionate about beautiful sunsets, summer lemonade, my goats, who hop around when I come to feed them in the morning. I like to think they’re excited to see me and not the bucket of food. I get a kick out of guitar solos, and that first cup of coffee in the morning. I have a basin in the barn out back and sometimes I’ll fill it with piping hot water and just soak, listen to the whistle of the wind through the trees or the birds chirping hello. I lost my shit when my cow had her calf. How she got pregnant is a story for another time. When I come into town, I’ll get taffy from Sweet But Sinful and I can’t have a piece until I’m headed home. That first chewy sweet bite is always the best.”
Fancy’s chest heaved and her words were low and breathy. “You are a rarity, Edison Birch. And it seems wrong that I’m just now figuring that out.”
Ducking my head, I said, “You can just call me simple it’s fine.”
“I didn’t mean simple, I meant rare, unique, one of one. Like no one I’ve ever met and I’ve met a shit ton of people. Take the fucking compliment.”
“Okay, thank you. Are we ready to move on?”
“Yeah.”
Back in the truck, we drove for a few minutes to MetCalf Park. It was lush and green, with walking trails and ponds. I’d racked up hundreds of hours at the park on a lazy weekend eating homemade PB&J sandwiches with Doritos stuffed in between just people watching while Fancy wrote songs.
I pointed to the massive jungle gym and Fancy offered an enthusiastic nod. She lowered herself into one of the swings and I settled in beside her. The night was clear and the sky was like a map with limitless possibilities. I thought about Fancy in some shape or fashion every single day since she left. Usually it wasn’t obvious, just a whisper of a memory from our childhood. Swimming at the lake, skinned knees, and timeouts to catch our breath. She’d been part of my life for so long it was hard to find a memory she wasn’t a part of.
“I had my first kiss in this park,” she said, lazily swinging back and forth.
“With who?”
Her eyes grew wide. “With you.”
“Me?”
“You don’t remember our first kiss?”
“I remember kissing you, but it wasn’t my first kiss.”
“Wait a second, we were twelve. Who else were you kissing?”
“Ma’am sometimes my business ain’t your business.”
“I thought I was your first.”
“Just because you weren’t my first doesn’t mean it was any less special.”
“I was so nervous. And you were looking at me funny. My palms were sweaty, kind of like they are right now.”
“I remember thinking you were going to push me away and say ‘Eww Edison, gross.’ But you never did.”
“I leaned into it.”
“You leaned all the way into it, even slipped in a little tongue.”
“I just figured if you’re going to kiss, you should make it a good one.”
“It was a good one. Best kiss I ever had.”
Fancy rolled her eyes. “I seriously doubt that.”
“No it was because it was sweet, and there were no expectations for anything more. The kiss, our kiss wasn’t building up to a bigger moment … it was the moment.”
The swing she was gliding on came to a stop and Francesca examined my features. All night her eyes were acutely affixed to my face as if she was looking for deeper meaning or a sign. “I remember thinking after, so that’s what the love songs are all talking about.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Life was so simple back then. Hanging out in the park, feeding the ducks, catching fireflies. When puberty hit, all that shit changed. The boys were now young men and they had mischief in their eyes. When did it all get so complicated?”
“When you’re younger, you can’t wait to be grown. I remember thinking in high school once I graduate can’t nobody tell me what to do. But the joke was on us because adulthood comes with responsibilities and expectations, and you can’t blame your fuck ups on youth. I spend more time worrying about the farm, the shop, and my parents then anything else. Still, it doesn’t have to be … complicated. I mean some things you can’t avoid. We all have choices, and some choices lead to more treacherous paths.”
“Do you regret staying in Hume?”
“No, I’ve never regretted that.” When Fancy and Darla decided to leave Hume for California, they asked me to come with them. We were best friends, practically inseparable. They said I could be their stage manager, and we’d get a place and be roomies. But California was never my dream, so I passed. “Do you regret leaving?”
“No, I can’t say that I do.”
And that’s where we stood. I wanted to milk my goats and sell eggs at the farmers’ market, and she wanted to perform on stage and travel the world. In so many ways she and I were similar. We loved the tranquility of country living, our families were paramount to us. Trust if her parents or Ozzie needed her, it didn’t matter where she was in the world, she’d make the trek back home to support them. Despite that, when it mattered the most, our views on life were starkly different. All I needed was the love of a good woman and maybe a dog and Fancy … well she wanted shit I couldn’t provide. But I was willing to pretend none of that existed if she was.
Taking a deep breath I surveyed the sky. You’d think I’d be able to identify the consolations for all the nights I stood in the yard with my head upward. The world was vast, but at the end of the day we all looked to the same stars with hope. I found the biggest star in the sky and made a wish. People claimed you could only wish on shooting stars, but that was bullshit. The luminaries were magical and filled with inspiration. After casting my deepest desire to the heavens, I spoke it into existence. “Would you like to come back to my place?” I asked.
There she was looking at me again. Probably plotting on the nicest way to let me down. Sometimes wishes didn’t come true and that was fine. Fancy’s eyes brightened and an easy smile took over her face. “Yes, I would like that.”
Warmth radiated throughout my body as a surge of energy invigorated my muscles. I dragged my feet back and swung high. Fancy giggled and mimicked my moves, inertia pushing her forward as she swung her long legs back and forth trying to gain momentum. Our timid, excited laughter peppered the air just like when we were kids. All our adult struggles washed away, and it was just me, her, and the power of what could be.
Back at my place, we both knew what was about to happen, but we went through the motions of acting surprised when my lips found hers in the entryway of my farmhouse. Fancy wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pressing her supple body against mine. We tumbled back and forth, knocking tacky artwork askew on the walls as we made our way to my bedroom on the second floor. I kicked my door open, never letting go of her lips.
The sixteen-year-old inside of me was freaking out. Francesca Palmer was in my bedroom, kissing me with an urgency I could never have anticipated. You know the saying good things are worth the wait. Well Fancy was a good thing and I’d waited a lifetime for her.
She giggled between kisses and I pulled away slightly to make sure she wasn’t having second thoughts. “What?”
“I just can’t believe I’m kissing little Eddy Birch.” I grabbed her hand and placed it on my dick, which had expanded substantially in my jeans. Fancy’s jaw dropped into a slack smile. “I stand corrected. Little isn’t the correct adjective.”
I gently pushed her onto my bed and bending down, I removed her boots and socks, massaging her feet.
“Edison, you are not about to suck my toes. They’ve been in those boots for hours you can’t?—”
“I don’t care, Fancy. I don’t care. I’m going to savor every part of you because I’ve been wanting this forever.” When I put her big toe in my mouth, she crashed to the bed. It didn’t even taste bad, it was just salty. If this was my one opportunity to fuck Fancy Palmer, I was going to fuck her good and proper. After giving my attention to both feet, I worked my way up her frame. Skipping her sweet center, I placed strategic kisses across her stomach, leading to her neck.
Nuzzling into her collarbone, I kissed and licked as her hands slipped under my T-shirt, exploring my muscles. “Take that dress off for me,” I asked, rolling back on my heels.
Fancy stood unzipping the side of her dress and pulled it over her head. She was perfection and I needed a moment of silence to take her all in. Her long legs and curve of her waist that rounded at the hips. Her breasts, which were a little less than a handful and exposed because she never wore a bra, the slope of her long neck. Her plump lips that were swollen from our endless kissing.
I leaned in, kissing her side until I landed at the space between her leg and hip joint. She dissolved into laughter. “That tickles.”
“Right there?” I pointed to the spot I’d just finished kissing.
“Yes.”
I made a second attempt to kiss her sensitive spot, and her giggles quickly turned into a long moan. When I looked up at her, her eyes were hooded and clouded with lust.
“Lay back on the bed.” When she complied, I planted kisses on the inside of her thighs slowly and deliberately. I wanted her to know what was about to happen next. Anticipation would upend her breathing, as her bodice heaved with longing. The warmth of my breath hovering over her pussy would cause her legs to twitch. When I opened her wide, I would feast on her from the rooter to the tooter.
Pressing my lips to her clit through her cotton panties, I got the reaction I was looking for.
“Oh, fuck me,” she groaned.
“I’m gonna get to that part,” I promised her.
The moonlight casting shadows made everything feel surreal even though her pussy was inches from my mouth. Hooking my fingers into the sides of her underwear, I removed them with an assist from Fancy who lifted her hips. I resumed kissing her thighs and every area around her pussy without ever making contact. Fancy squirmed underneath me. Her breathing pattern was erratic as she groped at the duvet.
She grabbed my face and said, “Please don’t tease me.”
I offered an apologetic smile. But between you and me I wasn’t sorry. I wanted her to need it, need me. I wanted her to beg for it, so when I gave her what she asked for, she had no choice but to rejoice. Sliding my tongue across her slit, she seeped in air. With the second pass, she tugged at my shirt. When I plunged deep on the third lick she melted in my mouth, her juices coating my tongue.
I moaned against her clit as her hips worked in tandem with me. Fancy sat up, folding her body over mine. She kissed the back of my head while my face was submerged in her. Finding my ear, she groaned, kissing the side of my face.
“You’re gonna make me come,” she whispered. Grabbing hold of her waist, I worked hard to make that a reality for her. Brushing my fingers over her slickness, I inserted a finger or two. Fancy fell back to the bed, her voice crisp and clear as she called for me. “Edison, you’re making me see stars.”
I didn’t let up fucking her with my fingers while practically French kissing her clit. When her left leg wouldn’t stop shaking, I knew I had her. Fancy’s screams filled the room as she shivered. She tried to run away from my tongue, but I wouldn’t allow it, laying claim to that pussy with suckles, slurps, and messy kisses until her juices were dripping down my throat.
Pulling away, I climbed onto the bed next to her. Brushing the hair from her face, I asked. “Are you okay?”
“Actually, I’ve never been better.”