NOVA SHAW #2
Nodding, I thought back to the day when I was nearly killed at the grocery store. My girls were in the back seat. I hadn’t noticed the man approaching me while I moved my groceries from the cart to my SUV’s cargo space. I felt the pain before I registered the gunshot.
Shivering with the memory, I leaned into Stevie’s hug. Her fingers brushed over the scar hidden under my shirt.
“You need to grab hold of life and make it your bitch,” Stevie whispered. “If you’re hot for Boone, talk him up. Or let me push you two together.”
“What if we don’t get along?”
“Then, you look for someone else. Not everyone is like your brother, who ruts with the first woman to interest him. You might date a dozen guys before you find a keeper.”
“What if I don’t want to keep a man?”
“Then slut it up,” Stevie said, making me laugh. “There’s no harm in using men for the fun stuff and bailing when the relationships get boring. Just have fun.”
Stevie’s words stuck with me. She wasn’t the first fox to push for me to make a move. Elle more than once mentioned Boone’s great qualities before giving me an exaggerated wink.
Despite their encouragement, I still fought my urge to flirt with Boone.
He had dropped by Lula’s house more than once without me giving him any special attention.
I was afraid he wasn’t interested. If Boone knew I was, he might feel awkward coming around me.
Better for me to dream of a romance than take my shot and look stupid.
My inner chicken was also why I didn’t get the tattoo before the wedding.
I kept coming up with excuses to avoid pain and possible regret.
Deep down inside, I was afraid I wouldn’t like the tattoo, or people would make fun of it.
All my old bad habits swallowed me up until I was too afraid to try anything.
During the wedding at the Sorority House, I remained focused on Dan and Lula. The girls were excited to be flower girls like Lula’s twelve-year-old daughter, Dillon. The event was so beautiful, and I’d never seen Dan so happy.
The romance in the air inspired me to consider slipping a paper face of Eddie Murphy into Boone’s jacket. The actor’s movies had helped Dan and I bond after I moved to Baton Rouge.
Eventually, I started hiding the little paper faces in Dan’s clothes or under his bowl at dinner. After moving to Little Memphis, I began doing the same thing with Lula and Dillon. I usually walked around with a handful of the paper faces in my purse.
Rather than do something silly, I considered walking up and talking to him. Each time I got near Boone, I chickened out because I wasn’t a wild fox. I wasn’t even a nice girl getting her second chance like in my romance books. I was the messed-up daughter of a monster and the woman who loved him.
Laverne might have married twice after divorcing my dad, but she never got over Dan Senior. Her heart had been frozen in the past. Was I destined to the same fate?
Halfway through the reception, I felt a dark cloud swirl around me.
I didn’t want Chris to be my “great love.” He barely liked me most days.
I only married him because no one else was interested in me, and I was desperate to get out of my stepfather’s house.
Now, Chris was dead, and I was nursing a crush on a man so far out of my league.
Throughout the reception, Boone moved around the Sorority House’s massive backyard.
I saw him stop to talk to Clint and Ivy.
If I had been standing with them, I could have momentarily felt his gaze on me.
I always seemed to be in the wrong place for us to casually meet up.
Instead of approaching him, I admired him from afar.
“What’s wrong?” Stevie asked me as I watched Boone carry Cher on his back around the party. “And don’t lie because I’m too stoned to know the difference.”
I glanced at Stevie and admired her pink hair wrapped up in a sort of Bride of Frankenstein design.
The girls had been so impressed when they first saw her hair.
Once again, I felt lame compared to the wild women around me.
Even my dress tonight was overly long and dowdy, like something my stepfather would have appreciated.
“I’m considering whether to stick this Eddie Murphy face in Boone’s jacket,” I said, showing her the paper in my hand. “But I’ll probably chicken out.”
“You wuss,” Stevie said and then told Vanessa nearby, “Distract this lovely fox, will ya?”
“What’s happening?” Vanessa asked.
Before I could answer, Stevie swiped the little paper from my open palm and dropped to the ground. I nearly leapt on her back as she crawled wildly toward the chair where Boone’s jacket hung.
“No, seriously,” Vanessa whispered in my ear. “What’s happening?”
“Stevie is doing what I can’t.”
Brushing aside her blonde hair, Vanessa asked, “Why can’t you do it? And what is it that is happening?”
Stevie shoved the paper into a jacket pocket. I waved wildly when I realized she wasn’t at Boone’s chair. Vanessa made a bird noise to get Stevie’s attention. Instead, she gained the notice of Cher, who directed Boone back toward us.
“No,” I mumbled and nearly ran away.
“Caw-caw,” Vanessa said and waved Cher off.
“Tweet-tweet!” Cher yelled back.
“Hee-haw,” Boone announced. “You know, because I’m Cher’s donkey.”
His gaze met mine, and I think maybe I smiled. I wanted Boone to know how much I liked him. However, based on his confused expression, my face did not, in fact, smile.
Once Boone walked away with Cher on his back, I scurried over to Stevie giggling on the ground next to the chairs.
“I don’t know what that bird noise means,” Stevie said, laughing against me as I fished the paper out of Clint’s jacket and tried to stuff it in my pocket.
“No, love is forlorn and lusting.”
“What?” I asked Stevie.
“I have no fucking idea,” she replied and began laughing again.
Vanessa crawled over to us and asked, “What’s the end game here, foxes?”
“She wants to stick this paper into Boone’s jacket pocket,” Stevie said and stole it from my hand.
Vanessa took the Eddie Murphy face and shoved it in Boone’s jacket. We all froze when we heard Cher calling for Stevie.
“Flee,” Vanessa whispered. “Tweet, caw, just go.”
We crawled in different directions. I ended up bumping into Rock, who frowned down at me. I lifted my gaze to meet his annoyed one.
“We’re playing a game,” I explained and stood up. “Sorry.”
After he eyed me like I might be fucking with him, I ran inside the Sorority House, where I nearly collided with Goldie.
Boone’s older sister smiled at me. She’d always been friendly, yet I feared sharing my feelings with her. What if she said Boone wasn’t interested? I couldn’t handle such truth.
Instead of fessing up, I pretended to be tipsy. Goldie walked with me to a family room couch, where my heart continued to race. Eventually, I got my butt back outside and located my daughters.
The next thirty minutes were spent dancing with Skylar and Lyric. Eventually, they got tired and snuggled on my lap.
I put on a smile despite how panicked I was about the ticking time bomb in Boone’s jacket. Would he understand why I put the Eddie Murphy face in his pocket? What if he asked people about my behavior and I looked stupid?
As the night wore on, I more than once attempted to steal the paper back.
That hope died when he slid on his jacket as the evening grew chilly.
By the time I traveled home with my sleepy girls, I had sunk into a panicked depression.
My attempt to go wild had ended with me making a fool of myself in front of my dream guy.