18. Bex
EIGHTEEN
Bex
N othing beats the first sip of your pumpkin spice latte in the morning. There is something so welcoming and familiar about the flavor, it’s like a warm hug for your mouth. Everything could be falling apart around me and I’d still be able to sit here and sip on this drink and enjoy every sip.
My fold-out chair isn’t the most comfortable, but seeing as I decided when I woke up that today is the day I need to meet Jared, it’s the one thing I could drag out to the mailboxes with me.
Today’s theme song? Lou Reed’s “I’m Waiting for the Man” works.
The sound of a breath of air being exhaled pulls my attention to my feet, where Harley sits. She’d spent the last few nights in the house, curled up at my feet. It’s to the point now that my guilt is assuaged; the pet sitter knows if she isn’t with her, she’s here. Eventually, the owners will want her back, and I’ll deal with that then, but for now I’ve got a dog.
In the distance, I can see a car making its way down the old country road toward our section of land. The car is red, bright fire engine red, so I know it isn’t Jared. He drives a beat-up station wagon that doubles as the postal car. This car looks familiar, though.
Sitting back in my seat, I let my head hit the back of the chair as I stare up at the sky, thoughts of Austin tripping through my head: Austin going to Florida. Austin being on the road again. Austin back in football, which makes me happy, but that means—
A horn maniacally honking breaks my focus, taking my attention back to the car. The same red car that is now slowing down as it comes closer to my house, putting on its blinker. I wave, knowing with certainty it’s Georgie behind the wheel.
“What are you doing sitting out here by the mailboxes on this beautiful sunny morning?” Georgie asks as she slams her car door shut and walks over to join me.
“Having coffee,” I say, sweeping my arm around me as if this is a luxurious cafe where I await her company. “I’d offer you a chair but I didn’t bring another one with me. Sorry.”
“Please,” she says, laughing. With her own flourish, she holds up her keys and taps a button on her key fob which opens the trunk of her car. She pulls out a folding chair of her own, closes the trunk, and joins me. “I am a woman who is always prepared…and who also went camping not long ago.”
“I see,” I say with a chuckle. My fingers are busy spinning my new fidget ring as she parks her butt beside me. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise visit?”
Her line of sight goes to my hands and she smiles. “I’ll have to tell Etta and Dylan you took their advice and got one of those.”
“Yeah,” I say, grinning at my hand, “I went and got it a few days ago. I’ve been feeling more settled, and better in general. This helps when I start feeling fidgety.”
“Go figure,” she giggles, reaching around my legs to scratch Harley’s head. “So really. What are you doing out here?”
I look at her sheepishly. “I decided today was the day I wanted to meet Jared.”
“As long as you’re not stalking your neighbor,” she says, patting my leg as she cranes her neck around, taking in the view. But she snaps her head back my way suddenly. “You aren’t, are you? Stalking him?”
“What––,” I say, choking on the most perfect sip of my latte. “No. I’m curious about Jared, that’s all.”
“The mailman who dresses up?”
I nod and toast the air with my mug. “I know. It’s a good and busy life I have here in the country.”
“Would there be another reason you’re sitting out here?”
Is there? Of course there is. I hate admitting it to myself, and I’m going to hate saying it out loud to Georgie, too, but she’s here and I’m feeling vulnerable.
But does that mean I have to tell her right now? I take another sip of my coffee and nod toward my house. “My HVAC is also getting fixed today.”
“So being perfectly of right mind, you decided that was another reason to sit outside and hang out. You afraid he’s going to drive by the place?”
Pursing my lips, I attempt to stare straight ahead, not wanting her to know she’s got my number. But she does. I have a feeling if I didn’t tell her how I was feeling, she’d already know anyway. I’ve discovered I have the kind of friendship with Georgie where it’s like we’ve known each other for years. I’m grateful for it and know I’m super blessed she’s my first real friend to have here in Sweetkiss.
Time to come clean.
“And I didn’t want to sit in my house, looking across the field one more day wondering what’s going on at”—I jerk my thumb over my shoulder—“his place.”
“Ahh,” she says, sitting back in her seat, her shoulders visibly relaxing. “Well, that’s why I’m here.”
“About me stalking Austin?”
“No,” she moans. “Because Austin was called back to Tampa.”
“Oh.” Does my tone have an edge to it? Little bit.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Austin?” I’m playing a deflection game as she nods, and I shake my head.
A thousand words fly to my mouth at one time, but they’re all caught at the exit, like a panicked crowd that can’t get out of a stadium. I’ve been trying to figure out the feelings I’ve developed in such a short amount of time myself, but I can’t. It makes no sense, until it does.
Because part of me knows that I began to fall for him the moment I met him, way back, before Georgie and Levi were married. I think in some ways my journey to Austin began the day she introduced us, and I just didn't know it.
“I’d rather not discuss the fact I’m falling for that man.” I sit up a little taller, refusing to get teary.
“Okay,” Georgie says, putting her leg underneath her as she angles herself on the chair, pulling sunglasses off their perch on her head so they rest on her nose. “Then we’ll just sit here and not talk about Austin.”
“Great,” I mumble as my phone rings in my lap. Recognizing the number in a blurry kind of way, I answer. As soon as I hear the voice, I know it’s Harley’s pet sitter.
“Is she with you?” Felicity asks.
I look down at the dog sleeping peacefully at my feet. “Sure is. I guess you guys will need to get her back for the owners?”
“Well, that’s the thing.” She half-laughs. “I’m calling you with a weird question. Like, so weird I’ve never done this before.” She’s quiet for a moment before pressing on. “The owners have been back for a few days now, actually.”
That’s surprising. “Really?”
“Yeah. They told me not to contact you, they were going to. But then this morning they called and wanted me to ask if, well—would you like Harley?”
“Yes!” The word leaps from my mouth before I have a chance to digest what she’s saying. But of course I would. I do. Why wouldn’t I? “It’s a little obvious that we’re kind of made for each other, I think.”
“Right?” Felicity cackles on the other end. There is something about this woman that makes me think she and I could also be good friends. Or at least, I know a great pet sitter now who lives in the area. “That was my thought, but it’s still weird that they asked. They said since they’re moving, they’re worried it may not be best for her. Turns out she’s not been very warm and connected with them as a family. She sleeps outside when she’s with them and doesn’t like being around anyone at their house.”
All I can think about is how Harley likes to follow me from room to room, and even outside, like we’re attached. I’ve seen her do it with Austin as well. “That’s the exact opposite of when she’s here.”
“That’s what I told them. I think that helped them make the decision because it’s what’s best for Harley, you know?” There’s a rustling noise on her end of the phone, sounding like she’s moving. Probably busy walking dogs. “I’ll let them know I spoke to you. They’ll want to drop her things off to you, meet you and all that, if that’s okay?”
Shocked, but delighted, I agree to anything they need and hang up, jaw slack as I look at Georgie. “Looks like I’ve got a dog.”
She lets out a low whistle. “You’re a very busy lady out here at your mailboxes, aren’t you?”
“Who knew?” I say as I toss the phone in the dirt by my feet. When I look back up, my wait is finally being rewarded: I see an old beat-up station wagon barreling down the old road, going at least eighty miles an hour, making a beeline for our place.
Jared.
Gripping my mug, I look over at Georgie. “I cannot wait to see what he’s wearing today.”
“I hope it’s good. Like a lion costume or maybe a koala bear.”
You can’t wipe the smirk off my face as the wagon slows down, turns on its blinker, and pulls into the lane. Said smirk does begin to fall though once Jared exits the vehicle, cocking his head to one side and giving both Georgie and me a look like we’re aliens he’s found in the desert.
Turns out today isn’t a day that Jared is dressed up. Today is the day we get to meet normal Jared, not dressed up and not wearing any makeup Jared, who looks like he’s about twenty-nine years old, with blond hair that’s been bleached from too much time in the sun and a perfect set of teeth that he shows off with a giant, welcoming grin. While I’m slightly disappointed there is no strange dress-up vibe today, I’m now intrigued. More so than I was even yesterday.
“Hi?” he says, almost in a questioning manner. Guess it’s not every day you pull up to the mailboxes on your route and find a couple of women sitting and having coffee. “Are y’all like the welcoming committee?”
Out of the side of my eye, I can see Georgie’s mouth hanging open. Being the good friend I am, I lean over and gently close it using the tip of my pointer finger. I turn my attention back to Jared, who holds out a newspaper and a stack of mail for me.
“Nope, just enjoying the day,” I lie through my teeth.
“Okay.” He looks at Georgie, then back to me. “I guess…have a good day?”
“You guess right,” Georgie purrs as I kick her foot. Subtly is not my thing. When I see she’s still staring, I toss the newspaper at her.
His face twists as he gives us one last look over his shoulder before he hops back behind the wheel of his car, throws it in reverse, and takes off, leaving us in a trail of dust as he blazes away.
“So, Jared is cute,” Georgie says, cracking up. “Wow!”
“You’re too much,” I manage between giggles. “Please tell me you know someone single to set him up with?”
“I’ll find someone.” She laughs, bending over to swipe the newspaper, but she pauses. She looks over to me and points. “Did you see this?”
The headline screams “Local football star headed back to Tampa Bay?” and has two photos accompanying it: one of Austin, looking devilishly handsome, and the other from the day he was taken off the field in Charlotte on a stretcher.
I don’t have to hold the paper to get the gist. I know the gist. I’m living the gist.
I shrug. “That’s why I don’t want to talk about it.”
Georgie tosses the paper to the side and turns her chair so we’re facing one another. “You know, just because he’d be in Florida during training doesn’t mean you can’t have a relationship, right? People do long distance all the time these days. I know someone who made long distance work with a guy in New Zealand. They’re married now.”
“Sounds like an urban myth.”
“Pfft. I’ll get you her number. You can talk to her yourself.”
I shake my head. “I’ve got no time for miracles.”
“Yet you were just given a dog out of thin air.”
I roll my eyes. “Not the same thing.”
“Then what? Explain it to me. Why him? Why do you like him?”
Oh boy. Things I’ve been asking myself since I saw Austin last. Why is it him?
“I shouldn’t feel anything for him, that’s for certain. He’s kind of my boss, he lives literally next door, and he’s been off and on rude to me since I arrived. I want to remove a hedge that sits on our property line, one that he doesn’t want me to touch, which kind of makes me his nemesis. Yet, when I’m in the same room with him or anywhere near him, all I can think about is him. It’s like the air is pulled from me and I’m in a vacuum that exists for him.”
“And he’s such a ray of sunshine—” Georgie starts to say, but I hold up a hand to stop her.
“He is, actually, it’s just everyone around him forgot.” I turn so I can face her. “Nobody’s fault, it’s just a pattern that was easy to slip into for everyone. Including Austin.”
“And you see something different?”
“I do,” I say as I nod. “He was so interesting to me when I met him because he was so good. I fell for him then and held a torch for him until I moved here. Then, I see him again and he’s changed. Yet at the core of it all, he is still Austin, right? I wanted to give him a chance because good people mess up. Good people make mistakes. Good people stumble.”
“But you weren’t seeing all the good when you first got here,” she says with her voice low. “Yet you stuck it out.”
“Well, I could see the potential. The greatness,” I say, wagging a finger in the air. “Great people get back up. Great people don’t see themselves as falling to the ground, they see it eroding up to greet them. Great people give reality a good PR spin because they get it. It’s about what is in”—I tap my head—“here. And he’s got a lot going on up there, let me tell you. And it is sexy.”
For the second time this morning, I watch as her mouth goes slack. Again, being the good friend I am, I lean over to close it for her.
“Thanks,” she whispers.
The sound of yet another car pulling into the lane makes us turn our heads. It’s a dark blue van with “Anderson’s Cleaning” painted on the side. Sitting in the car are two older women, I’ll guess about fifty or so, waving to us as they scoot past, headed for Austin’s.
I look at Georgie and shrug. “Not sure who they are.”
“That’s easy,” she says with a wave of her hand. “The new housekeeping service.”
Our eyes meet, and we can’t hold our laughter back any longer. We take each other’s hands and crack up, the sound echoing across the fields, filling the air with our joy.
“So, now what?” Georgie asks as the laughter dies down and we settle back into our seats.
I look out across the fields, feeling the warmth of the moment still lingering. “I’m not sure,” I reply, my voice soft but sure. “For once, I don’t have all the answers, and maybe that’s okay. Maybe it’s exactly what I need.”
The uncertainty no longer feels like something to fear—it feels like the beginning of something new, something that could be even better than what I’ve imagined.
But only time will tell.