CHAPTER Fourteen
Christopher
“What’s this woman got that has you hooked?” my grandpa asks when he catches me looking at her picture on social media.
I lock my phone, then throw it down on the desk in frustration. I’ve been meaning to message her, but I’m spending more time looking at her picture than communicating with her. “It’s not like that. We’re friends.” He gives me a pointed look. “Friends that get naked with each other,” I add with a cheeky grin.
“For years, I’ve watched you serial date, but this one has you pining.”
He sees through my charade. “We’re not even that close, that’s the crazy thing. We talked a few times when I was in the bar, but I hardly know her.”
“Why not?”
“She’s from a different world. I work hard to make you and my dad proud. She has the same work ethic as me, but she does it to survive.”
“And what about that don’t you like?”
I laugh, thinking about the conversation Nellie and I had one night. “She’s a vanilla martini. She’s a simple and good girl. She needs people in her life who don’t need anything from her. I’m more of a neat whiskey. I like the idea of new adventures, but my roots are old. I’m a farmer. I don’t want anything refreshing like Sweet Cocktails, even if I liked the idea of it for ten minutes. I need a wife from an agriculture background, not that I’m ready to find her.”
“Do you know what I just heard? You’re scared of commitment. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to invest your money in something else, but when it comes to the crunch, you can’t sign the contract.”
“What are you saying?” I may have started it, but we’re talking in riddles I don’t fully understand.
“Message the girl and ask her out on a proper date. Not one of the fancy places you took hundreds of women. Take her on a real date.”
He picks my phone up and passes it back to me. I push it through my fingers a few times. Am I a commitment-phobic? I think back to the last girlfriend I had. It was in high school, and she ran off with my best friend at the time. The truth was, even back then, I wasn’t good at looking after someone else.
Yes, I’m scared of commitment.
Instead of messaging Nellie, I jump into my car and go for a drive. The destination is predictable, though. By midnight, I’m waiting outside Nellie’s house for her to come home. Just like last time, I follow her inside without saying much. It’s like she gets me, even if she doesn’t want to. Yes, I should’ve texted, but she’s not going to turn me down.
***
I watch Nellie from her bedroom window as she leaves with Ainsley to take her to a gymnastics competition. Once in the car, nothing happens for a few moments. I can’t see much, but I would have expected them to have set off by now. My phone starts to ring, and I grab it from the nightstand.
“Hello?” I say, wondering why Nellie’s calling.
“My car won’t start. Can I borrow yours?” she asks.
I’ve got a few options, but one appeals to me the most. “How about I take you and bring you home after the competition?”
“You would do that?” She sounds surprised.
“Of course.” A feeling I don’t understand hammers in my chest. The idea of pleasing her, even a tiny bit, gives me a buzz.
There’s some mumbled conversation between Nellie and Ainsley. “Get down here, lover boy, or I’m going to be late,” Ainsley says.
I’ve already got my trousers on, so I pull on my shirt, hurrying to my girl.
Woah, where did that come from?
Nellie sits in the back and Ainsley provides the directions. We ride across the city to a small leisure centre.
“Chin up today, Ainsley. Mr Lightwood won’t be smug after you take home the gold,” Nellie says.
Ainsley rolls her eyes. “I’m aiming for silver. That’s more realistic.”
“Why not gold?” I ask.
“According to Mr Lightwood, she doesn’t have the training or money to ensure first place.” Nellie sucks on her bottom lip, allowing her sadness to surface.
“What’s that got to do with him?” I ask. Who is he to judge Ainsley’s talent?
“He wants Ainsley to attend his club and won’t drop it.” I can tell this isn’t something she wants. It sounds like she’s shrugged him off more times than any man should be told.
“But you don’t have the money to send her?” I ask. Understanding the root of the problem might help with the solution.
“That, and he gives us the creeps.” Nellie shudders.
I frown. “How many times has he approached you?”
“Almost every event since Ainsley caught his eye.”
I’m not liking the idea of this man harassing my woman. “Why haven’t you raised the alarm? You could talk to the police or someone at the competitions.”
A look passes between them. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves,” Ainsley says.
“Shut up, little sister.” Their eyes meet in the mirror with an unfriendly glare.
Janette gave me an insight into their family, but Nellie hasn’t confirmed anything. They have a secret that holds them back. Are they worried about social services looking too closely?
The air turns uncomfortable as unsaid words pass between us. Nellie is strong and independent. It’s not my place to confront their situation, but I wish she would confide in me.
We park around the back of the building and climb out of my car. Nellie avoids eye contact with me as we head inside.
As predicted, Mr Lightwood is lingering close by. Ainsley goes to get ready, and Nellie seems on edge. She pulls her hood up, heading for the ladies’ room. Awkwardly, I stand with some of the parents, listening to them discussing the competition.
A few of the mums seem a bit thirsty, so I keep my eyes on the gymnastic mats rather than catching their attention. Nellie joins me just as the judges take their seats. She leans forward, focusing on what’s about to happen. This is the first event I’ve been to like this and all the routines look great to me, although Ainsley is the only girl I clap for.
At the end of the competition, medals are handed out like the Olympics. Ainsley gets silver, and although she’s happy, I also sense a little resentment for the person who gets first place. When they take the pictures, Ainsley’s looking at the gold medal rather than her own.
“We better move to the exit,” Nellie says as Mr Lightwood makes his way across the crowd.
“Sure. I’ll follow you out. Will Ainsley know where we’ve gone?”
“Yeah. I usually meet her outside.” She snakes through the crowd, leaving the leisure centre by the main entrance.
We’re not outside for more than five minutes before the guy we’re avoiding finds us.
“Has your mother had a chance to think about my offer?” Mr Lightwood asks.
“Nope,” Nellie says bluntly.
“When are you going to get the message?” I ask, throwing my hands up in the air.
“This has nothing to do with you,” he says to me.
“Look, Mr Lightwood, my mother doesn’t need to speak to you. I’m telling you to get lost.”
“I can see I’ve made a mistake approaching you with your boyfriend. Have a good day.” He tips his imaginary hat and makes a hasty retreat.
We’re quiet for a few minutes while we stew over what just happened.
“You didn’t need to do that. I can handle myself.” She crosses her arms, closing off her stance. Her whole demeanour towards me changes, and I don’t like it.
“I’m sorry. I was just looking out for you.”
Once everyone’s in the car, we drive home mostly in silence. A tense atmosphere is hanging over us and I’m unsure how to defuse it. Nellie doesn’t say much as I drop her off, and I don’t push to be invited inside.