Chapter 18
When Ozzie entered a room, his presence was felt. From the porch he was banging on the door and beat boxing to some made up tune.
“Keep your pants on,” I shouted from upstairs while I shrugged into a robe.
“Fancy, oh Fancy girl. Let me in.”
I swung the front door open, irritation written all over my face. “What the fuck, Oz?”
“Don’t tell me you were still sleeping. Not on a beautiful morning like this.” He pushed past me.
“I like to ease into my day. Thank you very much.”
“Whoa.” Oz retreated, bumping into me. “Edison’s a hoarder? I would’ve never guessed.”
“He’s not a hoarder. I mean sure this place has a lot of?—”
“Shit. It’s a crap load of shit.”
“Edison bought the house as is. And he’s sorting through the items at his own pace.”
“A snail’s pace. He’s lived here for almost a year. You’re dating a squirrel.”
“What?”
“Have you ever come across a squirrel’s stash house? Tons of acorns, mushrooms, and plants all stuffed to the gills.”
“I’ll have you know many of these items are sought after collector finds.”
“One man’s trash is another’s treasure.” His tone didn’t match his words.
“Exactly.”
“Like that two headed goat over there.” He pointed to what I called the parlor of curiosities.
“It’s not real.”
“Ehh, are you sure about that?”
I wasn’t sure. But I preferred my claim over the possibility of Mr. Castle beheading conjoined goats. “Do you want coffee?”
“Yep, you know how I like it.” Ozzie followed me to the kitchen, sniffing the entire time. “Are you cooking?”
“No.”
“Then why does it smell like cheese?”
It was too early for Oz to be picking at every single flaw in this sweet little house. “I don’t know.” I surrendered my arms in the air. I don’t know what to tell you. The house smells like cheese. But it’s just downstairs.”
“Let me get this straight, Edison has your nose so wide open you are willing to shack up with him in his creepy old man house that smells like Limburger.”
“Okay, first off who still calls it shacking up? And second, I happen to like this old smelly house.”
“Whoa, lil Eddy got that thumpity thump thump.”
“What?”
“That’s the sound it makes when he drops trou. It’s significant and heavy.”
“We are not going to have a conversation about my boyfriend’s penis.” I added water to the coffee maker and selected a mug.
“You’re right because we need to be talking about your possessive adjectives. How many boyfriends can one woman have?”
“I only have the one.”
“What happened to Chap?”
“He got replaced.”
“Is that what Edison is … a replacement?” His lips took on an unimpressed shape.
My eyes narrowed as I detected the bullshit. “Did Dial put you up to this?”
“She and I barely talk.”
Stomping my foot like a child, I replied, “Don’t lie to me.”
“Dial may have mentioned something when I was dropping off Maple.”
“She asked you to check on me?”
“No, she was venting. I listened and took it upon myself to check on you.”
“Well, I’m fine.” I did my best to add an air of finality to my words.
Oz took a long sip from his mug, any trace of humor fading. “Do you know what you’re doing?” Serious Oz was almost as bad as life of the party Oz. In fact, I think serious Oz was harder to swallow because when Ozzie wasn’t smiling he looked just like my father and now I felt like I was in trouble.
“Yes, kind of … sorta.”
“Emm, Edison deserves for you to be all in.”
“I am all in.”
“Baby girl, I love you to bits. But you don’t think things through. You never have. You ran off to LA and struggled for the good part of three years. Sleeping on people’s couches and surviving on SpaghettiOs and the dollar menu at Taco Bell. You’re impulsive and Edison is steady.”
“I’m impulsive? Pot … kettle.”
“I own that shit; us Palmer kids are like the wind. Now Edison, Dial, and Cy are more like the earth. Edison is a redwood tree. You know the kind with the massive trunk not easily moved. And you are like the Santa Ana Winds. It sweeps down from the desert and into California bringing with it smoke, dust, and the makings of wildfire.”
“But I can also bring a nice breeze on a hot day.”
“Breezes never stick around for long.”
“So, Dial tells you to jump and you drive right over here and start stirring the pot.”
“That’s not what this is. You came to Hume to get away and in less than two weeks, you’re in love.”
“Just because it happened fast doesn’t make it any less real.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever been single. You are what they call a serial monogamist.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is because it means you can’t be alone. Why is that Fancy?”
I’d always been popular, and people gravitated toward me. Not trying to brag, just stating facts. So yes, when I lost one man, I usually had another one within three to five business days. What was happening with Edison and me wasn’t planned but it was a sweet surprise. I was fully aware there were a ton of questions that needed to be answered. Primarily, was Edison interested in a long-distance relationship?
Normally I was a go with the flow type of woman, who often allowed fate to decide my next move. These are the things I know for certain; Edison loved me, and he was never going to leave Hume. Eventually we’d have to make decisions but right now I just wanted to fill his cup the same way he was filling mine.
“Thank you for your input. But if you want to help me, maybe start with suggesting how I can get on Dial’s good side.”
“Dial doesn’t have a good side.”
We both shared a laugh. She was a tough nut to crack, that was for sure. “I just want to reassure her that I have Edison’s best interest at heart. What can I do to win her over?”
“You’re asking the wrong person. I’ve been trying for years to get off Dial’s shit list or at the very least get bumped down from the number one spot.”
Tilting my head to the side, I examined his face. “What did you do to make her so mad?” I raised a silencing finger. “You know what don’t tell me. Most men are fuckboys, and I do not have the heart to hear that my brother may be among the ranks.”
“Listen, Dial is moved by actions not words. So, if you claim you’re not going to hurt Edison, then don’t. Now can you give me the penny tour because I’m nosy.”
“Okay, but don’t touch anything.”
We’d driven to a big box store several hours away because I needed some essentials you just couldn’t get at Welborn’s Grocery Mart. I claimed I only needed a few things, but the cart Edison was pushing proved that was a lie. Inside the buggy was everything from body scrubs to a cute green vase.
“Ooo, I need a hot water bottle.” It was that time of the month, and I didn’t have any of my creature comforts, which is what prompted this trip. Edison navigated the store like a pro and led me to the appropriate aisle.
“Should I get the one with the pink fleece cover or go traditional?” I held up both bottles as if the fate of the world rested on him providing the right answer.
“Uhm, I’m not a heating bottle connoisseur.”
“Pink fleece it is.” I tossed it in the cart. “Now for the tea.” He dutifully followed my directions and stood in silence while I debated over green or orange blossom tea. Back at the farm, all he had was black and I was craving something more exciting. I settled on the ginger-turmeric green tea. “Can we check out the board games?”
Edison’s brows mashed together. “Board games?”
“Yeah, you don’t have any games. You have one hundred vintage lighters, but not a single board game.”
“I live alone?”
“How do you host game nights?”
“I don’t.”
“Your hermit lifestyle ends now.”
In the games section, I tossed Scrabble, Pictionary, and Jenga into our cart. “What are your thoughts on Monopoly?”
“I hate that game. Not only is it outdated, it’s boring. And when people think about board games, the first game they mention is Monopoly, which is embarrassing because the mechanics of Monopoly are the worst of any game. Candy Land is a more enjoyable experience. And don’t get me started on the consumerism agenda.”
“So no on Monopoly. Do you have any strong feelings about Taboo?”
“Taboo is acceptable.”
We searched the shelves for other games vetoing suggestions we didn’t agree on.
“How was your visit with your mom?” Edison’s hand cradled my neck, occasionally massaging my muscles.
“It went well, we made more jam. I brought some home. Best apricot jam you will ever try.”
“I hope she doesn’t feel like I’m monopolizing your time.”
“My mom loves you. With a capital L. She low key thinks you walk on water and are the nicest guy in all of Hume.”
“Okay, I know your mom didn’t say all that.”
Leaning closer, I grabbed hold of his side, rubbing his rock-hard obliques. “She’s not so silently rooting for the hometown boy.”
“My mother has similar thoughts about you.”
“Glad to hear someone in the Birch clan is pulling for me.”
“My dad and Cy like you too.” He said as if Dial hating me was just common practice … like breathing.
“How have things been with you and Dial?”
“We’re giving one another a wide berth.”
“You can’t avoid her forever.”
“I’m not avoiding her. I see her every day at work. I’m just not entertaining conversations about my personal life. I’m keeping it strictly professional.”
“With your sister?”
Edison shrugged. “Dial and I have fallen out before and we always make amends … eventually.”
“I really want us to fix this.” My face brightened and I grabbed the Scrabble box. “What about a game night?”
“No.”
“What, why not? Games, snacks, music.”
“Sure, we’ll just play Battleship and whoever’s fleet gets sunk has to apologize.”
“I mean—” I hopped a shoulder.
“No.”
“I want to help.”
“You help by staying out of it. I set clear boundaries with Dial, and she needs to respect them.”
“Okay,” I said before chucking Battleship into the cart, just in case he changed his mind.
Driving at night with Edison was peaceful because at night he preferred jazz or instrumentals, and his playlist was the perfect backdrop to the town whizzing by. I believed every human was allocated a certain number of perfect moments. And what that looked like was different for every individual. For me this drive home, with the stars puncturing the sky, the windows rolled down as a gentle breeze whispered through my curls, and Edison’s hand absentmindedly stroking my thigh, was a perfect moment I’d recall in my final minutes on this earth.
I interrupted the serene silence after passing a billboard advertising Hume’s upcoming fair. “I’ve been seeing flyers for Hume’s festival.”
“Yep, The Sweet Summer Jubilee is still going strong.”
“When I was a kid that was my favorite thing about summer. Well, that and not having to go to school.”
“And it’s gotten bigger since you’ve left. If you can believe it.”
“Is Ms. Irma still winning the cornbread cook off?”
Edison’s face lit up. “Actually, Janette from high school is now the reigning cornbread queen.”
“Shut up, I thought Ms. Irma would die wearing the crown.”
“Janette uses a cold-water recipe, so her bread looks more like pancakes, but the taste is out of this world. She earned the fuck out of that title.”
“Can’t wait to try them.”
He shot me a glance. “You want to go to the Jubilee?”
“Why not?”
“Because everyone in Hume will be there.”
“Yeah, that sounds like fun.”
Edison puckered his face with surprise. “I just assumed you’d want to keep it low key.”
“Wait are you saying you don’t want to be seen together at the fair?” I thought we were both all in.
“Going to the fair is a statement. People will ask questions and make assumptions.”
“I mean yeah … that was kind of the point. I want everyone to know you’re off the market.” Edison tried his best to prevent a smile from curving his lips. “So, what do you say? Is it a date?”
“I’ll be there with a bell on.”