39. Darcy
THIRTY-NINE
DARCY
I’m on Aunt Sally’s porch when the commotion behind me makes me turn.
Jake’s shaking out his hand and Rob is doubled over. And from that position, he runs at Jake. He coughs as Rob’s head makes contact with his stomach, but Rob’s too weak to actually pick Jake up.
“You don’t want to fuck with me,” Jake warns. “Leave now and we won’t call the cops.”
“You hit me!” Rob shouts.
“And you stalked Darcy. How the fuck did you know to come here?”
I have the same question, and I meet Rob’s eyes over Jake’s shoulder, waiting for a response. “Bri posted pictures this morning. And I knew the barbecue would be here today.”
When Jake looks back for my reaction, Rob sucker punches him. I gasp, hands covering my mouth. Jake winces, but straightens his face quickly before turning back around and making quick work of popping Rob again and wrestling him to the ground. He pins him on his stomach and holds his hands behind his back. “You still want to stick around for the cops, or do you give?”
“Darcy,” Rob moans. “This is all a misunderstanding.”
“She doesn’t even like roses, you asshat,” Jake snarls.
I feel like I should intervene before Jake gets carried away.
I cross the lawn and crouch at Rob’s side. “Leave, Rob. It’s over.”
“It’s really over?” he asks.
“It’s really over.”
He nods and I gesture for Jake to get up. Sally tries to usher Jake toward the house, but he shakes her off, joining Maggie and my dad to stand around me. Nice that my dad finally decides to join the party now that the punches have been thrown. I never knew how much I just wanted someone to go to bat for me until this moment. Jake stands up for me, whether it’s to my ex or to some demon I fight inside myself.
God, I want to hug him.
Slowly, Rob gets up, presses the heel of his hand against where Jake punched him, and tips his head to the side. His eyes are so sad moving over my face, and I can’t help but feel a little bad for him. He thought he’d be walking out of here the hero—the guy who got the girl. But he isn’t.
He thought he’d be welcomed back with open arms, that my family would take him back. But they didn’t.
“I wish you could forgive me,” he says, nibbling his lower lip.
“I’m sorry that I can’t.”
He nods. “I know you think I don’t, but I really do love you, Darcy. If this is it, I wish you the best.”
My mind reels thinking back to minutes ago when he was mocking me for working for my family. “Okay. Drive safe.”
“Actually, I’ve been in the car all day. Mind if I use your restroom?”
Maggie simpers. “There’s a gas station right before the highway, hun.” At the same time, my dad barks out a “no.”
Maggie puts her arm around me as Rob gets in his car that’s far too fancy for a gravel road and drives away. Sally pulls Jake into the house, this time with a towel full of ice pressed to his cheek. I feel shell-shocked, unsure whether to follow Jake, stay right here, or melt into the ground somehow.
“You were brave,” Maggie says, patting my back.
I shake my head watching the dust settle on the road in Rob’s wake. “He doesn’t even realize what an asshole he is. I feel sorry for him.”
“Doesn’t mean you have to marry him,” Maggie says. “Or even have him in your life.”
I swallow hard. “I just feel really stupid.”
Maggie tuts and hugs me. “We all pick a stinker from time to time.”
My voice chokes as I rest my chin on her shoulder. “I picked him for years. Years of my life, gone.”
“Oh, honey, Lord willing, you’ve still got plenty more good ones to come.” She holds me back by my shoulders. “Why don’t we go check on that boy who got his knuckles bloody for you?”
Inside, Sally’s fussing over Jake. He’s got a plate of those mini-eclairs that come in a kajillion pack from Sam’s Club in front of him and a bag of frozen peas on his fist. She’s pressing a towel with ice in it to his face, holding him to her bosom with her other hand. Jake gives me wide, amused eyes from where he’s squished against her boobs.
“Um, Aunt Sally, I can take over,” I say, stepping forward and taking the towel from her.
“Thanks, though,” Jake says, stifling laughter.
“That just goes on there like that,” Aunt Sally says, still cupping Jake’s face in her hand.
“Thanks, I got it,” I say. “You know, I heard they ran out of plastic forks outside.”
“Oh, shoot!” Aunt Sally bustles out of the room.
A soft hand lands on my shoulder and Maggie steps to my side so I can see her. “You get to decide who you want to be now, sis. I think it’s going to be the best you yet.”
She squeezes my shoulders and I nuzzle my head against her hand. “Thanks, Maggie.”
With a wink, she sashays out of the kitchen.
It’s just me and Jake now. What do you say to someone who punched out your ex? To someone who’s willing to suffer to protect you?
“So,” I cut through the silence. “Thank you.”
Jake’s eyes move over me. “You alright?”
“Will be. Shaken up. How are you?” My eyes flood and embarrassment washes over me. “I’m sorry you got tangled up in my mess.”
Jake grimaces. “It’s my fault he was here.”
I sigh. “You might have set him off, but it’s not your fault.”
The air between us is bruised, aching. I slide into the chair across from him and he grumbles. “I’d rather have your boobs on my head than your aunt’s.”
“Sorry, bub. I’m not as full service as my kinfolk. I’ll just have to hold your ice pack the old fashioned way.” I put a finger under his chin to check his cheek. He’ll definitely have a bruise, but Rob missed important stuff like his nose and his eye.
“Want me to drive home?” I ask.
Jake smirks, though there’s a sadness to his expression that I can’t unpack. “Still can’t drive the truck, darlin’.”
“But your face,” I say.
“I’m okay. He’s not that good at fightin’.”
I chuckle. “I did tell Caleb if he got punched he’d probably be a wiener about it.”
Jake laughs. “I think maybe he came down here looking for a fight. I warned him if he bothered you again he’d have bigger problems than a lost fiancée.”
I whimper and rub his leg. “You said that for me?”
Jake’s voice is gravelly when he speaks again. “I’d do it again, baby. In a heartbeat.”
* * *
We’re loaded down with to-go containers of food that’s probably been sitting out too long, riding back to the farm in silence.
I don’t really know what to say. There’s a lot to unpack with everything that just happened. Every bit of it is exhausting. Jake’s letting me sit with it, and it seems like his mind’s elsewhere too. It’s only about seven when Jake pulls up to the homeplace.
“They probably won’t be back for a while. You need company?”
I wince. “I think I might need a little time to myself.”
Jake’s expression is hard to read. “Sure.”
“I’m sorry. I know you just beat a guy up for me and I should probably be grateful and crawling all over you, but?—”
“Hey,” Jake says, putting a hand over mine. “You don’t need to explain yourself. Take what you need.”
I lean to kiss his cheek, which he accepts then turns to face me more fully. “Thank you,” I whisper, then kiss his big soft lips.
Jake’s smile when we pull apart is wry. “You know where to find me.”
* * *
There’s a gentle knock at my door. I’ve been lying on my bed with my legs up the wall in a t-shirt and soft shorts since I got back.
“Special delivery,” Maggie sings, flourishing a Taco Bell bag around the door.
I gasp and sit up. “No way.”
“I knew there’s no way in hell you were eating somebody’s potato salad after it’d been out in the sun all day.” She comes to sit on my bed. “And I knew you’s a mess after all that.”
“Confirmed mess,” I say.
Maggie smirks. “Surprised there’s not a naked man in here, but I seen his truck was gone when I got back.”
A chill comes over me. “He left?”
“He’s back now. Looked like he got himself a little trashy dinner too.”
“I think he’s earned a little trashy after punching out my ex.”
Maggie shakes her head as I dig into my crunchwrap. “Gotta say, you need to nail down a man who’s willing to fight for you.”
“I know. I just don’t know if I want him wrapped up in all of this.”
“Pfft. All of what?”
“My rebrand. My identity crisis. My Saturn return. Whatever we’re calling this,” I say, wiping a dab of nacho cheese from the corner of my lips and sucking it off my thumb like a mongrel.
“I don’t know if you get a choice, sis. He cares about you.”
I snort. “I care about him too. God knows. But I care about him enough to know I’d just drag him down.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, honey. Always have been.” Maggie scoots closer to me and lowers her voice. “You want to know what I think?”
“What?”
“I know you and your folks don’t see eye to eye, but you’ve still got a lot of them in you.”
I recoil and she laughs.
“You had to grow up too soon, but there’s something to be said for embracing your wild. You’re almost thirty. Be wild. If you’re not going to now, you’ll never start.”
“I’m wild,” I object.
“I’m sure,” she teases and I snarl.
“Hey.”
“What would you do if there were no consequences?”
I know the answer right away. “I’d stay right here. Put roots down. Stop being afraid I didn’t do it right.”
I take a sip of my Dr. Pepper and Maggie’s grinning at me. “Then do that. Screw the consequences. Be wild.”
“It’s scary, letting go of a story I sold myself for so many years.”
She nods. “Letting go’s when the fun starts. And you are so stinkin’ beautiful when you’re wild.”
“It’s just . . . quieter than I imagined it would be. Not glamorous or flashy.”
She laughs. “You know those birds that do that crazy dance to make the girl birds sleep with them? They’re so flashy because they’re full of shit just like everybody else. Wild is way more fun than flashy.”
I can’t stop smiling and Maggie grins back at me. “Why are you always so amazing?”
“Never got a little girl of my own, so I think they sent me you instead.”
“Oh my god!” I squeal at her, fanning my face and pulling her into a tight hug. “How dare you make me cry more?”
“Because I love you,” she sniffles. “And you’re pretty when you cry. It’s annoying as hell.”
My laugh is wet but I squeeze her tighter.
“Why don’t you get on down the road and go see if that boy wants to be part of your wild or not?”
I groan. “God, he was probably just looking for some summer ass, and here I am having a life-changing event.”
“Never know when he might be ready for a change. And if not, who cares? Go get ye some.”
“From the messiest woman in America.”
She shrugs. “He’d be lucky to get ya. Now go on. Make me proud.”
“No pressure,” I say.
Maggie pats my leg as she climbs off my bed. “Sis, you always make me proud.”