Chapter 1 #2
But more than anything, she had romance issues.
It was something she craved deep within her flesh.
Straight down into her blood she ached for that affirming touch of a protective man.
Evelyn often imagined his hands would be calloused from a hard day’s work, and he would be sweaty and tired, and she would have dinner ready for him.
It was such a contrast to the man she used to want.
Those men were fantasy characters with flaming onyx hair riding valiantly on black stallions to rush to their maiden’s needs.
But the real world hit hard.
And dreams were apparently for children.
But those men in her beloved fiction books taught her something, and that was to never settle for less than feeling loved and protected. It took her only three times to realize she was not to be played with but loved.
She was always used and left in one way or another.
To hell with it all. She curled up and hugged her teddy bear and cried.
“Face it, you’re becoming middle-aged, and by now no man is going to want you.
You’ve been told this your whole life.” Tears slowly rolled down her face as she whimpered harder into her bear.
“Men don’t want a woman past her prime. Here in the damn Midwest, no man wants you unless you’re thin with blue eyes, blonde hair, tanned, and either a fucking nurse or a teacher. ”
But she tried to calm herself down before the crushing feeling in her stomach got too obnoxious. Was it anxiety? She wasn’t so sure. “I’ll be okay,” she whispered to herself. “I’m fucked up, but I’ll be okay.”
The next day, she woke early to collect a few more boxes at Pawpaw’s house.
And it was once again another hot and muggy day, and everything she put on felt like it was suctioning to her skin.
Her hair felt slimy all over her neck, like she had gotten out of the shower.
She could have blow-dried it, but the heat on her face would have made her want to scream and escape to Antarctica.
Once more, she put on a light-pink tank top, pulled up her denim shorts, shimmying her hips to get them up.
When she tried to button them, it felt like she was trying to stuff biscuit dough back into the canister. “Agh!” she wailed as she once more pulled and tried to button them. “I bought these damn things at the thrift store last month! Don’t even tell me they’re too tight now!”
She kicked her legs out and put her hand to the baggy crotch area and tried to pull it up.
Pulling the waistline and sucking in, she got them fastened.
“There!” She panted in sweat. “Damn, it’s so hot. I swear even Satan’s sweating today.”
She looked at herself in the mirror. Yep. She certainly looked like biscuit dough popping out of the canister. Her dark eyebrows were bushy, and her chin seemed rounder than ever.
“Oh, hell the fuck no to this. I look about as ‘well-insulated’ as I feel!”
She changed into a cotton wireless bra, a white cotton tank top, and some light-blue cotton lounge shorts.
Then came the jingle of “Honky Tonk Women” on her phone. She fell onto the bed and answered, “Hey, Pawpaw!”
“Hey, baby girl! Could you do me a favor before you come over?”
She snickered, “What makes you think I was gonna come over today?” She was trying to play coy because she wanted to surprise him with muffins from the local café up in her nearby town.
“There are some black-eyed Susans sprouting up alongside Highway 42. Can you pick a few for me?”
She rubbed her face and let out a sigh of frustration. “Pawpaw, taking that highway takes me out of my way to you.”
“Okaayyy…fine. I see you don’t love your old man no more.”
They both cackled. “Your lame pity parties don’t get far with me, you know.”
His tone was so sweet as he replied, “Yes, they do.”
She sat up. “Fine, I’ll get your goofy flowers.”
“Bring me muffins too.”
“Pawpaw!” she cried humorously.
“What? You got that fancy little café in your town now. I want some muffins! I don’t got you here to bake me any no more.”
“You’re ruining my surprise for you!”
“Oh…uh,” he moaned as he scratched his head. “I was gonna ask you for something, but I can’t remember what. Must be that dementia kicking in. It could have been me asking for muffins, but maybe banana bread?”
She grinned, kicking her feet about on the bed. “You don’t have dementia.”
“Thank God I don’t, or I’d forget my pretty little granddaughter!”
She stayed still for a moment to take in his love. “I love you, Pawpaw. I’ll get you your flowers and your muffins.”
She hung up and left out the door, down her little broken steps, and across the stone path that was smashed too deep into the wet dirt.
She felt the wild tall grasses and flowers lick at her thighs.
She really needed to take care of that. The house came like that, but it didn’t mean it needed to stay like that.
Highway 42 was a two-way road full of winding passes, cornfields, cow pastures, rolling hills that made it nerve-wracking for her to even go the speed limit due to driveways at every bottom, and even this one weird old, dilapidated house that seemed like it caught fire and tried to fall apart but didn’t.
There was a chain-link fence that sequestered dozens of old cars in absolute disrepair as well as a heap of some sort of debris.
Even though no one lived there, she always wanted to explore inside.
She looked for the flowers, keeping her eyes peeled.
Even if she did find them, there wasn’t much of a shoulder to stop on.
She leaned forward and looked up at the brilliant summer blue sky.
The clouds were enormous white puffs. They climbed all the way to where she believed heaven could be.
They had a bit of a darker lining to them.
“Ah, cumulonimbus clouds! I hope it storms today. I could really go for some of Pawpaw’s guitar picking out on his front porch during the rain.”
When the yellow floral culprits appeared, she pulled into the drive of some farmer’s cornfield.
There they grew in the shoulder’s trenches.
She got out and followed the gravel shoulder back a bit.
Using scissors, Evie snipped the flowers in a beautiful bunch and headed back to the car and went to put them in the back so they would be able to stay out of the sun, but the back of her car was a mess with old mail.
She groaned and tried to clear room before seeing an advertisement with a cute guy’s photo on it.
“Caleb Wright Rustic Renovations. Where your first home grows with you.”
She lifted her eyes and saw the photo of the man.
She almost dropped the flowers back on the ground.
He had the kindest brown eyes, so deep and sparkling, that he looked vivacious.
With tanned skin and dirty-brown hair, it was kept styled naturally, a stark contrast to his sharp suit he wore.
His facial hair outlined a softly sculpted jaw structure, and his smile was youthful despite the age that decorated the corners of those eyes.
She smirked playfully. His shoulders were matured in their husky, stocky appearance.
He had to have been somewhere around her age.
“Now that man looks like a good, ol’ fashioned Midwest boy.”
For a moment, she let herself look at him and lost herself in thinking how cute he was. He was so cute, it hurt! She tossed the ad on the seat, placed the flowers securely, and got back in. She held her steering wheel and sighed in a daydream. She hadn’t had a crush since she was twenty-one.
Then it hit her. “Shit!” she yelled as she slammed her hands on the steering wheel. “I forgot Pawpaw’s muffins!”