Chapter 4 #2
Evie nodded to Myla and took the pink gel. Worst idea ever.
She learned later that the thickness was so bad that she couldn’t properly scratch her back, and it felt clunky to play guitar, open cans, or do anything!
Even that night, Teddy didn’t seem to approve of the new sensation of the weird nails on his head.
Evie sighed with a smile. “I know, buddy. I’m sorry.
” She picked up her furry orange friend and plopped him on the new sofa and went to chop up vegetables for dinner.
Her cell phone was tuned in to the police scanner app and she sat it down on the counter for comfort.
At once, she heard the dispatch say through minor radio fuzz, “710 May County request for K9 unit.”
She smiled, peeling the carrots.
“710, County, show me on duty and en route to 716’s location.”
It was comforting. Evie softly whispered, “Hi there, Hunt.”
The scanner came back on, and she heard the dog howling and barking excitably in the background as Deputy Hunt confirmed the location. Now Evie straight up chuckled heartily.
“Hi there, Atlas.”
The very happiness within her was so grand that at times she thought she would cry.
Or maybe it was the onions she was now dicing.
Regardless, Evie had accepted Caleb’s friend request but refrained from shooting her shot straight then and there.
He wasn’t widowed; he was getting divorced.
And in her mind, the memories of Pawpaw came back about warning her about Caleb, that somehow he was no good.
But no matter how many times she tried to recall, Pawpaw never truly told her why.
Apparently, some of the local women didn’t like him either. None of that mattered to her. She would continue to post her graphic work, her daily motivational things, her workout progress, little clips of her playing guitar, Bible quotes, whatever it would take to show him who she truly was.
Evie tried to be sincere, but sometimes it fell flat.
She sliced her finger. At once she hissed and sucked it, but damn those onions were strong and her eyes watered even more. Running it under cold water, she squeezed a paper towel around the open wound. Then her phone lit up with a notification.
Caleb liked her story. It was a clip of her playing her favorite Garth Brooks song. He had responded, “Dang, girl! You play better than me!”
She yelped and tried to wipe off her wet hands to grab the phone.
Yet again, he evoked those sweet little girl feelings in her.
The butterflies filled her stomach, and her pulse raced, even though all he did was like her story.
It didn’t matter. The dopamine rush hit her fragile brain hard, and upon opening Facebook, she saw he liked her post about not only getting the promotion but also her story post about how proud she was of her meal prep and her Zumba class she finally completed.
Wait a minute.
Evie clicked on the little number in the bottom of her story and saw that he had seen every single one.
Even the ones yesterday that were posted prior to him sending her a friend request.
She burst into excitement and jumped up and down, squealing and laughing hard and merrily.
Teddy came rushing in and slipped on the old linoleum until he slid into the table with a bonk.
She picked him up to kiss his head and held him close, rocking him like a baby to her chest. “Teddy! He’s watching my stories and liking them and my posts! ”
Evie ran through the house until she could find her old Avril Lavigne CD and put it in the DVD player and danced the night away while dinner was cooking, and the wine bottle got more and more empty.
She stayed awake scrolling on her phone that night, feeling the room spinning as if her head was filled with honey and swarming bees fighting each other.
All she wanted to do was see if there was anything she could learn about him.
She needed to make sure she wasn’t lovestruck without reason.
Sure, he was cute, but he could’ve been a crazy asshole.
He was clearly watching her stuff, so what difference did it make if she saw his?
As she looked at his profile, his banner was of him and two children.
It was a wholesome photo of him alongside a little girl and a boy, who were all sitting on a front porch stoop together.
The littlest one, the girl, was on her daddy’s lap and had such beautiful blonde curls.
She snickered when she saw that he also had a blond boy.
“Poor guy,” she joked. “Little blond boys are such rascals.”
Her heart saddened. What went wrong?
She wasn’t about to pry. It was obviously over.
Instead, she reacted to his newest profile photo with a heart, and upon viewing his story saw that he had been leading a horse while his little girl rode, and then there was one of him with his guitar across his lap, selfie-style.
It surely didn’t take much for that damn Caleb Wright to kick up her hormone dust.
She reacted to the story and got up the courage to send him a message that read, “I love your guitar!”
The moment she sent it, he saw it.
And she threw her phone across the room and rolled over in drunken embarrassment. Why did wine have to take control like that? She would never have done that had she not drank!
Somewhere buried in the laundry basket, a light glowed, and a little ding followed. She rolled over and paused nervously then nearly tripped getting out of the bed before flopping on the floor to see it. Her hands were shaking.
He loved her message! Evie held her chest and gasped a bit with a smile so wide it hurt her cheeks. Then he was writing.
She was about to swoon. There she lay across the floor to let the cool, spring air wisp in from her window to cool off the alcohol’s clammy effect on her skin.
The screen’s light glowed on her happy face, and his message popped up.
“Thanks! I’m not as good as you are, but I can try.
I can’t flatpick like that to save my life. ”
He was referencing her cover of a different Garth Brook’s song that she posted up when she was sick with that blasted fever in December.
More flutters and smiles. “Thanks,” she wrote back. “How come you never post videos of yourself playing? I bet you’re good too!”
He responded, “Maybe one time when I’ve had a few.”
The statement made her think. Was he an avid drinker? Weren’t most military men drinkers anyway? Hell, wasn’t every man in the Midwest a drinker?
She playfully went along, trying to match his demeanor and his obvious shared love of country music. “Need a few red solo cups first?”
He responded, “As long as they’re half-filled with whiskey.”
She wrote back, “Dang, you’re brave! If I had whiskey, I’d be face-first in no time. All I’ve had is wine, and I’m gone. Tripped over nothing getting to the phone!”
It seemed as soon as the honeymoon vibes started, they ended. He gave a few exchanges before Evie decided to leave it alone. Still, she was hopeful. Having a crush on a man in his situation could be very delicate.
The next morning, she texted her oldest brother Darren, who had been in a divorce once already.
She wanted to ask Caleb out badly before any other woman got to him.
Being such a catch with those rugged blue jeans and perfectly scruffy face and that brooding tall height, he was certain to have a line of hopeful bachelorettes swarming up to his doorstep.
And Evie felt she didn’t have much to offer like most women her age.
Darren warned her to give him space and time, even though he was excited for her.
For the next few months that ticked on by, Evie watched his stories helplessly and tried to leave as many nice comments as possible about the success of his work, his kids, his life, without leaving too many. After her share of foolish behavior, she was going to be smart about a guy for once.
Growing up meant living her life the best way she could.
It meant showing up to work and not checking her phone every five minutes or being worried if Caleb thought she looked good or not.
It meant shamelessly being herself, that kind and caring woman.
It meant ignoring the catty women at the salon.
Which she frequented still with them being there.
It meant tuning out the deafening gossip of the women who frequented the local café.
It meant focusing on trying to be happy, despite being still so lonely.
It meant wishing Caleb a happy birthday on his birthday but being okay with not receiving it in return.
He didn’t owe her anything, even though she desired everything.
Evie knew things would go as they were to be expected to go, and she would learn to be okay with it.
Fall came around once more, and once more Evie was sick with that damn flu that was driving everyone wild.
The crisp air was cold and damp, and her favorite thing to do in the morning was to sit out on her front porch by the mums and watch the fog consume the nearby cornfield next to Joshua’s house.
Pumpkins littered his steps and porch, as well as scarecrows being staked out front in the yard that represented his little family.
Hearing Joshua’s dogs bark used to annoy her, until she started to find them comforting when they chased a coyote off the street.
Teddy was an indoor and outdoor cat, and Joshua’s dogs knew Teddy well.
They never minded Teddy one bit.
There she sat on her white wicker chair and gazed out in thought. Her exchanges with Caleb had been brief with still the knowing that he was watching nearly every story she posted.
All was peaceful and quiet until the loud muffler of a truck came rattling down that quiet street. She grimaced and leaned over to see that damn white Chevy tearing down the road in a clumsy, maniacal fashion. Joshua screamed at the driver from his side yard where he was busy raking leaves.
“That damn Alan Moffet,” Evie cursed. “He’s gonna get someone killed someday.”
For some strange reason, Caleb popped into her head. She was forty now, and surely no man was going to find her sitting on the front porch in some no-name town. She had to do it, because she couldn’t wait any longer.
After work that night, Evie crawled up inside her favorite blanket on the couch with Hocus Pocus humming on the TV.
She picked up her phone. He was active online.
She was going to ask him out.
Her heart rate picked up, and her skin tingled. “Okay,” she breathed heavily. “You can do this. If he says no, accept it and move on.”
She stared at his name and wrote, “Hey, Caleb! I gotta be honest with you. You’re absolutely fucking handsome as hell.
I love the fact that you play guitar, work with horses, and you like the same music I do.
You seem like a really nice person too! I’d like to invite you out to dinner sometime or a drink.
If not, I totally understand and won’t be mad at all. Have a great night!”
And she threw the phone on the adjacent sofa and cried hysterically.
Oh, she was so mortified at herself! She wasn’t much thinner, and her house was still a wreck.
There was no way in hell a guy that handsome would ever go for a woman with her body.
Not ever. They didn’t when she was younger, and she was certain they wouldn’t now.
There was no wine to blame this time. The message was sent. The possible damage was done. “Dammit!” she cried. “Why the hell did I do that?” The turmoil within her heart tumbled a storm of regret and anxiousness. What was once confidence immediately was stripped and broken down into self-loathing.
Across the way on the couch, the phone lit up.
With shaking hands, she rolled over to reach for it and slowly looked.
He responded, “Hey, Evie! Damn, I’m flattered you came straight out and asked.
Never had a girl do that before! I definitely would love to do that!
But I’m in the middle of a divorce right now, as you’ve probably heard.
So, I can’t do much more than that. But I really think you’re hella sweet.
You’re a really nice girl. Don’t let anyone change that. ” It ended with a smiley emoji.
Then he added, “It’d be nice to see you when you’re not needing help.” He topped it off with a winky emoji.
How quickly the tears of embarrassment turned into laughter and little screams of absolute elation.
She let out all of her breath in one long sigh of relief, and her tears turned into a gleaming smile.
She wrote back, “Right? You’re always there at the right time!
And I understand entirely. I hope everything goes okay for you.
I couldn’t imagine how hard that’s gotta be.
Well, now you know. So, if you’d like to, let me know when you’re ready. ” She finished with a smiley emoji.
She waited while he saw the response.
And little did she know, he was thinking on the other end.
His hand gripped around that whiskey glass, and he looked at his empty house.
His kids weren’t with him that Friday night, and what she had said was such a kind and understanding response.
Over and over, he watched and read her goofy Facebook posts.
She was darling, genuine, understanding, passionate, friendly, and always tried to help people in her community as much as possible.
On the occasion, he would laugh at her silly posts and even laughed at the memes she would make.
On the other end, Evie grew sore waiting. She bit her finger.
Then Caleb drew in a breath and wrote back, “Do you really wanna know when I’m ready?” He was about to gamble everything and take one last chance. Maybe if he hadn’t been drinking whiskey, he wouldn’t have been so careless.
She could have broken her index finger swiping her response so fast. “Of course!”
“I’m ready now.”