6. Joey
Target was one of my favorite places in the world—a wonder of disparate items of every kind, all set together in one enormous store. Peach Tree Grove didn”t have any of what I think were referred to as ”big box” stores, and spending the last year back there with my parents was a lot like going back in time. We could always go to Montgomery for all the big stores, but Mama hated places like this.
”A store should do one thing and do it well. I don”t want to buy my unmentionables from a place selling tuna fish two aisles over.”Mama was easily offended by things like that.
On the other hand, I adored the possibility of picking up an affordable temporary wardrobe, skin care, a toothbrush, makeup, and several bottles of Prosecco all in one place.
John waited patiently as I shopped, strolling along the wide aisles at my side. He practically glowed with goodness, and I realized it was why I”d run here. To him. John stood apart in my mind from everyone else I”d ever known. His family had been a little tough—not a lot of love there, I didn”t think—but it didn”t keep him from being one of the most honest, forthright, easygoing people I”d ever known. It was just nice to be around him.
Though being around this version of John Samuels was different. My high school pal was gone—or at least his body was. This John was unquestionably a man. One with impressive muscles and a chiseled jaw that carried just a trace of dark scruff. And just out of the shower? This version of John smelled like heaven, if heaven had a tiny bit of sin mixed in. He was sexy.
But that wasn”t why I”d come to him.
We were friends. And right now? I really needed a friend.
It wasn”t that I didn”t have girlfriends. The problem was that they were all involved in the wedding, and for the moment I”d needed to just set that entire situation aside. I would have to deal with it. Just not right now.
I tried on clothes for the better part of an hour.
”It”s amazing what a variety they have here,” I told John, modeling a pair of dark jeans in front of the mirror. ”I”m finding so much!”
”Good,” he called back through the door. ”I”m glad you”re happy.”
In that brief second, I was. But the reality of what I”d just done to my life was lingering in the distance, a dark, swirling storm threatening to blow in soon.
I pulled the tags from the jeans and a cropped, V-neck T-shirt, and slipped my feet into a pair of cute sneakers. It was miles better than the baggy shorts and T-shirt with strappy sandals look I”d been sporting from John”s house.
”I think I”ve got what I need,” I told John, emerging from the dressing room feeling better. Brighter.
”Good,” he said. ”Let”s find something to eat. I”m starving.”
As I watched the checkout girl scan all my items. My eyes wandered the assortment of vendors just along the front of the store. ”We could get a pretzel here,” I told John, pointing to the concession.
”I was thinking something more like a steak. I don”t think they sell those at Target.”
As the girl bagged the last of my items, I slipped my credit card from my phone case and paid. Until the little machine flashed ”approved,” I held my breath. There was a good chance Daddy would switch off my card, but it didn”t seem like he”d done it yet. I checked the cash back option and withdrew some money just in case. I hoped the cards would work for a bit longer, that my parents were waiting to talk to me, to convince me to come back.
But I also knew I couldn”t go back. I couldn”t step into the life they had planned for me, the one I”d been so easily complicit in planning for myself.
Being here, away from the life I”d slipped back into so easily after school, I thought I felt a flicker of that thing I”d had once before. Drive, or motivation. Desire. I felt my heart and soul waking up and realizing there were things only I could secure for myself.
”Dinner,” John said, hoisting my bags into the back seat of the cab of his truck.
”Sounds good,” I said. ”My treat.”
”Don”t be silly.”
We settled into the cab, and after I strapped my seatbelt, I turned to look at him, catching that dark, chocolate gaze. Soulful. Sexy. Something stirred low in my gut that felt like attraction, but I shoved it down. This was neither the time nor place for that kind of thought.
”Listen. I owe you,” I told him. ”And I”m guessing it won”t be long before these cards I”ve got are going to become useless, so let me buy you dinner. Please.”
A slow smile crept across the full lips, and he shook his head lightly. ”If you insist, but it doesn”t feel very gentlemanly.”
John was a gentleman, I thought. He always had been. And even though his accent had faded and he”d moved north, I knew he had the same values I”d been brought up with. Letting me buy him dinner was a lot.
”You”ve already demonstrated that you are a gentleman in a million ways, Sammy. You got me out of jail, and you”re letting me stay at your house. You let me cry and took me shopping. And honestly? I don”t need a gentleman right now. I just need my friend.”
He grinned as he navigated through the darkening streets of Wilcox. ”You got it,” he said.
Dinner was simple but delicious. We settled into a table at the back of a cozy bistro and John got his steak while I had a delicious French onion soup and a salad. We both drank water, but when John started asking questions about things back home, I began wishing for something stronger.
”Where was the wedding supposed to be, Joey?”
”The ceremony was at St. John”s, and the reception was going to be at the Robert E. Lee.”
”As one does,” John said.
I burst out laughing. ”As one’s mama does.”
”Was there going to be any kind of civil war re-enactment?”
I dropped my fork to stare at him, pretending to be offended. ”No.”
”Your dad was pretty into that, wasn”t he?”
”Yes, but he agreed to leave it out of the wedding.” Daddy had asked if he should call some of his friends to bring their uniforms, but Mama had nipped that idea in the bud. ”Mama really did all the planning. I just had to show up,” I told him, thinking of the whole thing as if it was someone else”s wedding now. In a way, it had been.
”Did you get to plan any part of it?” John was watching me, those dark perceptive eyes shining in the light of the little candle glowing between us on the table.
I lifted a shoulder, my brain working back through all the decisions that had been made in the last year. ”Mama always consulted me, of course,” I said, trying to remember if I”d actually chosen anything. ”But I guess she just gave me choices she”d already selected, so there was never a wrong answer.”
”Sounds like it was going to be her wedding.”
I nodded, some of the anxiety I”d felt at home threatening to creep back in as we talked about the details of the event.
”And what about Evan?”
”He didn”t plan anything.”
”That”s not what I”m asking.” John”s expression was hard to read. Did he feel sorry for Evan? Did he think I”d done something cruel, running away? His brow was smooth, the eyes open and questioning, but not judging.
”What are you asking?”
”Do you love him?”
I couldn”t hold John”s gaze. How could I admit I was a day away from marrying a man I didn”t know if I loved?
”Maybe?” I tried, realizing as the word escaped that it was weak and inadequate. ”I mean, I think I did.”
John was watching me when I glanced at him again, like he was trying to figure something out.
”I know it”s the wrong answer,” I said, my voice an embarrassed breath.
”I guess I don”t have any expertise in love,” John said, leaning back and pushing his plate away. ”I”ve never been in love. But I like to think I”d know if I was.”
”Me too.” I dropped my eyes to my silverware, tumbling the knife over a couple times before finding the courage to ask the next question. “What do you think it’s like? How do you think you would know?”
”I like to think it”d be so obvious—to both of us—that it would be impossible to deny it. That love would be like drinking water for the first time, never realizing how much you”d actually needed it. Or like pulling off a blindfold and understanding that you”d spent the first part of your life not really seeing anything.”
”Sammy, you”ve become a poet.” I laughed, but his words were like an arrow, finding a soft target inside me and lodging there. I”d once thought love should be like that too. But if it was, I”d never felt it.
A little blush crept up his cheeks, making him even more handsome as he chuckled and fussed with the spoon next to his plate, obviously embarrassed.
”I hope you”re right,” I told him. ”And that maybe it isn”t too late for me. But no. I don”t love Evan like that.”
John looked at me then, and there was something so comforting and familiar in his eyes, that any doubt I”d had about whether coming here was the right move was instantly gone. I”d needed my best friend, and even though there were years and miles between us, seeing him again was right. And I was home.
”Think you should listen to those messages?” John asked as we pulled back into his driveway.
”I”m not sure you have enough whiskey for that,” I said as dread pooled inside me, snaking cold fingers around my heart and making me shiver despite the heat. I could imagine my mother”s furious voice, Evan”s confusion and hurt, the humiliation I”d caused them all. Could I really bear hearing it?
I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. I was the one who”d run. I was the one who”d caused the hurt and embarrassment. I would have to take what came with that.
Inside, John brought new glasses to the coffee table where the bottle of whiskey still stood. He filled them both and we drank, my phone sparkling on the table between us like a glittery bright bomb that would soon explode.
I lifted my glass and drank, and then I hit the power button on my phone.
”I have seventeen voice messages and over one hundred unread texts,” I said, watching the screen update as the evidence of my quick decision making loaded.
Sammy”s eyes stayed steady on mine, offering warmth and confidence where I felt my own slipping.
”We”ll do it like you eat an elephant,” he said. His voice was like warm chocolate, which didn”t change the fact that his words were ridiculous.
”I don”t know where you”ve been these last five years, Sammy, but we don”t eat many elephants in the South so I”m not sure I know how that would be done.” I stared back down at the phone screen, fear twerking with guilt centerstage in my gut.
”If you were to eat an elephant, how would you do it?”
”Are you just trying to distract me with this? It is working, but it”s a little bizarre.” I put the phone in my lap and met his eyes, which sparkled with amusement now.
”It is actually an idiom, Joey. I didn”t just make it up. And you start a little bit at a time.” He held out his hand and I happily gave him the phone. ”If you want, I”ll help. Where do you want to start? Messages or texts?”
”Texts, I think. Less terrifying.” I took another big drink of my whiskey and then picked up a pillow from the couch, holding it in my lap as if it might absorb some of the piercing words I knew were about to come my way.
”Want me to read them aloud for you?”
I had no secrets from Sammy. He already knew the worst of me. I was a grown woman who”d run away from her own wedding because she was too weak and powerless to just tell everyone it wasn”t what she wanted. How much less could he think of me now after he”d already had this truth confirmed?
”Yes please.” I gripped the pillow tightly and waited.
”Okay. You”ve got messages here from Tess, Mama, Daddy, Evan, Sarah, Aunt Maud, and Granny T.”
Granny. Oh god, I should have called Granny. It was a lot for her to get all dressed up and go anywhere at eighty-eight, and she might”ve appreciated knowing she didn”t have to get dolled up for the rehearsal dinner. Besides that, she was probably the one person in that list who wasn”t going to tell me I was a horrible person.
”Start with Granny T, please.”
John smiled up at me. ”How is Granny T? You two still like peas and carrots?” I thought I”d heard a faint southern drawl when he asked me this, and it loosened a tiny bit of the tension inside me. The rough southern boy with good manners I”d known was still in there somewhere.
”Always,” I told him. ”Granny T just gets me. She always has. I should”ve told her what I was doing.” I moaned the last part, guilt beginning to win the dance off with fear inside me.
”Okay. Her text says, ”Dear Josephine,”” Sammy paused, grinning. ”Very formal for a text.”
”Just be impressed that Granny texts at all. She”s more adept with that phone of hers than I am.” My heart squeezed a little thinking about my Granny. I wished I could give her a hug right then. I should have called her.
”I’m not surprised,” Sammy said. He”d met Granny T many times over the years. ””Dear Josephine, I wish we”d had a chance to chat before you made your mad dash out of Peach Tree Grove. I would”ve told you to run faster. Don”t worry about things here. Granny T is on the case. My daughter is a mess, but that is to be expected when she doesn”t get her way. I love you and want you to be happy. On your own terms. Call me soon. Love, Your Granny T.””
The emotion inside me pushed out and tears ran down my cheeks as I imagined my grandmother painstakingly typing out her reassurance to me. I could picture her in her favorite chair by the window, pecking at the tiny keys with one finger as she made faces at her phone. My heart gave a little whimper at the thought. In my life, Granny T was love.
”See?” Sammy said. ”Not so bad.”
”They won”t all be like that,” I told him, sniffing. I redoubled my efforts with the pillow shield. ”Mama next. Let”s rip off the Band-Aid.”
”Here goes: ”I can”t imagine what has gotten into you, but I want you to know that a text is an unacceptable way to offer your regrets to your own wedding. By now I”m sure you have heard all my messages, and you can add ”ignoring your Mama” to the long list of social gaffes you”ve made in the last two days. I am humiliated. We will most likely have to leave this town. I can”t imagine showing my face in public ever again.”” Sammy paused, glancing up at me, appearing to evaluate how I was holding up against this barrage.
”Go on.” I swallowed down the sobs that threatened.
””Evan is heartbroken, of course, as are his parents. And your poor Granny. She might never recover from the shame.””
”Well, I know that”s not true at least,” I mumbled through the tears. I”d given up wiping them away.
”It goes on like this for about sixteen more paragraphs, Joey. Nothing new in here really. You want to hear it all?”
I shook my head. ”Can you just reply ”I”m sorry, Mama. I”ll call you soon.”?”
”Sure.” Sammy did as I asked and sent the text.
”Let”s read Daddy”s and Evan”s, and then I think maybe we”ll call it a night?”
”Whatever you need.” His voice was soft and the sympathy I heard in it almost broke me. As if I wasn”t already broken.
”Okay, your daddy says: ”Sugar Pea, I need you to text me ASAP and let me know you”re safe. We”ll deal with everything else (aka your Mama) later, but please don”t make me worry about you any more than I do already. I”m happier than ever I got you that tank to drive. Tell me you”re okay, princess. I won”t sleep until I know it. And then we can figure out what to do. You know I”m on your side.””
”Oh god,” I moaned, dropping my head into the pillow I was strangling. ”Poor Daddy. Can you text him back real quick? Just tell him I”m fine, I”m safe with an old friend and I”ll call soon?”
”Yeah,” Sammy said, and now he sounded sad too. I looked up at him, hoping to understand the off note in his voice, but he looked the same as he typed in my message to Daddy.
A giggle was forming in my chest as I watched him manhandle my tiny pink sparkly phone in his big rough hands. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he bent over the device, and he looked a tiny bit like Granny T when she tried to text. But he also looked like an enormous handsome man with a tiny pink phone, and the combination of the two—and a fair amount of alcohol—made me burst out laughing.
Sammy looked up, startled. ”Ah, you okay?”
I pointed at him, the laughter coming in waves I couldn”t control. ”It”s just... It”s you... and that little pink phone...”
Sammy dropped the phone to his lap in one hand, and pursed his lips. ”It”s your phone.”
”I know,” I was hysterical now, all the untapped emotion from the day coming out in uncontrollable spasms of laughter and tears at the same time. ”And it”s so little and sparkly...” more laughter. ”And you”re this huge handsome man...” now a sob escaped me. Then another laugh. A hiccup finally broke through the mess.
I was losing it. Sammy watched me a second longer, his lips lifting in a tiny smile as he picked the phone back up and finished the text to Daddy. Then he put the phone on the coffee table and rose, leaving me to be consumed by the fit of laugh-crying-hiccupping that was overtaking me. ”I”m getting you some water.”
The laughter was morphing into ugly crying, and I began to realize just what bad shape I was really in. I”d tossed a hand grenade blithely into the center of my life and driven away as it exploded, and now there was going to be shrapnel pretty much everywhere. And I had to clean it all up.
I didn”t know how to even begin. But I knew I couldn”t just go back and step right back into that world with a demure ”oops, so sorry.” I couldn”t put on that dress, and no matter what else I might do, I couldn”t marry Evan.
Sammy returned with water, and I reached for the phone, my emotions calming enough to let me read the texts from Evan. He didn”t sound angry, just hurt and confused. And I couldn”t blame him.
I needed to call him and try to explain. But he deserved for me to do it when I was sober and somewhat pulled together.
”Thanks,” I told Sammy, taking the water and drinking half the glass.
”You okay?” he asked. He leaned forward now, his eyebrows drawing together and his head tilted slightly as if he was trying to see deeper into me, see what was really pushing me off the deep end.
”Yeah,” I put the water down and finally released the contorted throw pillow back to its proper place. ”But I think the rest of these are going to have to wait. It”s been a lot for one day.”
He nodded, the concern never leaving his handsome face. ”You should get some sleep.”
It was my turn to nod, and I got to my feet, picking up the water. I looked around Sammy”s house, and all the other emotions swirling inside me calmed for a moment as gratitude rose up. ”Sammy?”
”Yeah?” He rose.
”Thank you. For everything.”
His face broke into a smile again and he shook his head. ”Always. Any time.”
I stepped into his arms without thinking too much about it. I wanted the warm reassurance of his hug, one I”d enjoyed so many times when we were kids. Only, as his arms enclosed me, my body pressed flush against his warm solid chest, I realized how very different he was than the kid I”d depended on fiercely in school. This John was no kid. And this hug was every bit as reassuring and warm as they”d always been, but it was more than that.
And my muddled brain did not have room to consider what that might mean.
”Good night,” I told him, stepping back.
”I”ll see you in the morning, Joey. Sleep tight.”
I carried my phone and my water to the guest room and shut the door, and as I drifted into an exhausted sleep, I thought about how tomorrow would be the first day of a brand new life.