Chapter 2 #2
The three of us stood together on the sidewalk outside the bakery. Mabel waved and called out greetings to most of the people that walked by. Everyone had a smile for the judge’s wife.
“Okay, you two, I have to get to the Chamber meeting. I’m assuming I’ll see you both this evening for dinner?” We nodded in unison. “Wonderful. Your father will be working until five, so we’ll serve drinks at six.”
While dinners at the Herbaughs’ weren’t expected, the routine of it had slotted into our lives easily.
It was a little scary how quickly our days morphed into a pattern that was more or less molded by her parents.
But it was done in such a seemingly well-meaning way, I couldn’t voice any objection to it.
“Sounds good, Mom,” Lucy responded as if by rote.
“See you two this evening,” Mabel said with a final smile before crossing the street to join a woman who had stopped to wait for her. I recognized Dot Crabil, Mabel’s friend who ran a coffee shop next to the courthouse.
Lucy and I silently watched her leave. I reached for Lucy’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“I think she’s finally starting to like me,” I joked dryly.
“Definitely,” Lucy replied with a small laugh. “Her niceness is almost ninety percent genuine now. The other ten percent will come soon enough.” She winked at me and I felt the knot in my stomach loosen a bit.
I brought her hand to my lips, kissing the back of it.
We had been together for only a few years, but I knew we were meant to be together as soon as we met.
It wasn’t the heart-stopping type of love you read about in books or see in the movies.
It was different from that, but that didn’t make it any less potent.
She had been in my life longer than she had been out of it.
People thought we were crazy for getting married so young. We weren’t even a year out of high school. But they didn’t understand what Lucy brought to my life.
And what she could very easily take away if she decided to.
“Let’s go get ice cream,” I suggested, happy to be on our own for a little while.
When it was just Lucy and me, it was natural. We fit together well, and it was that ease I was signing up for when we’d agreed to marry.
Lucy shook her head. “I can’t. Like Mom said, I should watch what I’m eating.
Imagine the embarrassment of having my dress altered.
” She winced, and I knew her mom’s words had cut deep.
She checked her watch. “Crap, I need to get to my step class anyway. It starts in thirty minutes, and I need to change first. I’ll meet you at my parents’ tonight, okay? ”
“Drinks at six,” I remarked drolly.
“Drinks at six,” she repeated but without any of the sarcasm.
I watched her walk down the street, wondering what to do with the rest of my day.
I thought about heading back to campus. I was a freshman at Salt River College in Jessop County, only a twenty-minute drive from Fern River.
I didn’t live in the dorms, instead choosing to save money and stay at home with my mom, commuting in every day.
It made the whole college experience a little different from what I expected, but I was mostly enjoying it.
I had a bunch of studying to do for my final exams, but with all the wedding preparations, my focus wasn’t where it should be.
I had to be careful not to dip below a 3.
5 GPA, or I’d lose my scholarship. But the thought of being stuck inside studying for something I didn’t really care about was choking, and I felt smothered from the pressure.
Lucy’s father and I had spoken at length about my future when Lucy and I had started dating. He had been the one to suggest I go into pre-law and then, after graduation, transfer to a law school of Judge Herbaugh’s choice.
We talked about me getting my law license and helping him set up a private practice right here in Fern River once his term on the bench was finished. We’d be partners—well, not at first, but eventually.
Herbaugh and Clark, Attorneys at Law. I had to admit, it had a nice ring to it.
And it was a solid plan. One I had, at the time, agreed to. After all, having someone set it all out for me felt like the easiest solution. And if it meant that Lucy and I wouldn’t have to scrimp and save like my mom and I had to, then I’d do my part.
But as reality kicked in, I had come to realize I couldn’t make myself enjoy my classes on tax law or employment and labor law. It was all a grind, and I was finding that I detested every moment of it.
I walked down the street to Scoops Delight, the food truck that housed the town’s ice cream stand, and ordered myself a mint chocolate chip ice cream from the pretty, young, blue-eyed girl manning the counter.
She handed me the dripping cone, and I sat on one of the wooden benches outside to eat it.
The fountain in the middle of town was on full blast. Kids ran through the jets, letting out delighted screams as the cold water doused them in the unseasonably warm weather.
The town was buzzing with activity on that spring day.
It seemed everyone I knew was out and about, and I waved to at least half a dozen people.
It was a safe town. People felt comfortable letting their children run around in the streets without hawkish supervision.
The low crime rate was its greatest appeal.
Except for Jagged Point.
The scenic overlook was thirteen miles outside of town, and I had spent a lot of time there since I was old enough to leave the house on my own.
Families hiked there. Teens partied there.
But every single person remembered that it was also the place where hikers sometimes went missing.
And a few decades ago, two bodies were discovered by the cliffs, their deaths never solved.
But today, I tried to see the positives of the town I called home.
I laughed as a cute blond girl grabbed a boy of a similar age and dragged him into the jets with her.
He looked to be only fourteen, but he was entering that difficult phase where he wasn’t quite a man, but he also wasn’t a boy anymore.
It was a tricky time for anyone, but especially boys.
Where the desire to have fun all the time ran in direct opposition to wanting to become a man that others looked up to and respected.
I remembered the feeling well. Even though I never had my own father around to guide me, I had enough male friends to help me understand what was expected of me.
And once I had Lucy on my arm, with her father backing my every move, I’d be well respected too.
Respect came in many forms, and I would take mine however I could get it.
I thought about blowing the rest of the day off and heading to Jagged Point for a run so I could let off some steam and be alone. Because at times it felt like I couldn’t breathe.
All Lucy had ever talked about was having the house and the kids and the white picket fence like her parents expected of her. And with the plan her father had laid out for both of us, that was the life we would have.
It could be so simple.
All of it.
It’s what she wanted.
It’s what everyone wanted.
But was it what I wanted?
The ice cream had dripped onto my pants and I rubbed at the mess in irritation. Grumbling, I stood up and headed to the counter to grab some napkins, wiping furiously at the stain.
“I hate it when that happens,” a feminine voice spoke from behind me. I turned to look, but didn’t recognize her, which wasn’t necessarily surprising—Fern River may be a small town, but we did have the occasional tourist passing through.
She was attractive and seemed about my age, with a long mane of red hair that trailed down her back in knotted waves. Her skin was tanned and her cheeks flushed pink. She didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup, her skin dewy and natural—unlike Lucy, who never went anywhere without her face made up.
She was small in stature, which was all the more noticeable given that she carried a large bag on her back that dwarfed her tiny frame. The seams bulged as if the zipper was going to split open at any moment.
“Mint chocolate chip?” she asked with a smile.
I nodded, my mouth seemingly unable to form any actual words.
“That’s one of my favorites,” the girl commented. As we stood there in companionable silence, she tucked her hair behind one ear. I noticed she wore three silver bangles that jangled when she moved.
“Have you ever tried pistachio, though? My mom used to make her own. I swear you’ll be like ‘mint chocolate chip who?’ once you try it.” She laughed, and I found myself laughing with her.
“Pistachio, huh? Not sure I’m into nuts,” I quipped, feeling stupid as soon as I said it. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks, and I was thankful it was a warm day so I could excuse it.
She raised an eyebrow. “Not into nuts. Duly noted.”
Our eyes met, her full lips quirking slightly, and then we both laughed again.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with nuts—”
“Quit while you’re ahead, buddy.” She chuckled, putting her hand on my arm. Our eyes met again, and this time I had to look away.
“You made a real mess of your pants there,” she said, gesturing to the stained fabric.
“Yeah, I think they’re ruined.” I sighed. Lucy would be embarrassed if she could see it. And it didn’t bear thinking about what her mother would say.
“No sense crying over melted ice cream. I say it’s a good excuse to buy some new clothes.” She grinned and inclined her head to the ice cream counter, “And another cone.”
“You know,” I said, throwing the soggy napkin in the trash, “I think you’re right.” I glanced up at the menu board before giving my new acquaintance a genuine grin. “And I think I’ll try—” I clicked my fingers as I tried to recall the flavor she had suggested.
“Pistachio,” she filled in for me, “though I thought you weren’t into nuts.”
“God, just shoot me now.” I groaned good-naturedly and we shared another smile.