Heart and Home (11 page)

“Janice, I swear to you on
my own life that I did not tell a single soul what you said yesterday.”

I leaned back against the
wall and tilted my head toward the yellowed ceiling tiles. “But you set me up.”

“No, no, I promise I didn’t
set you up. Sometimes he comes out on Tuesdays, and sometimes he doesn’t.” She
reached out and touched my forearm. “I didn’t know if he’d be here or not, but
I won’t lie and say I didn’t hope he’d show up after what you said yesterday.”

The gaze I whipped at her
was so quick she stepped back a little, her eyes wide with fright. I shook my
head and squinted at her, “I will get you back for this.”

An innocent grin touched the
corners of her mouth. “Does that mean you’re not mad?”

“How could I be mad at you,”
I laughed. “I will get you back though, you better believe it!”

“Good!” She smirked. “That
means you’ll have another excuse to come back to town after you go back to the
city.”

Her statement set me back a
little. “Did you really think I’d just never come back again after I leave on
Sunday?”

Shoulders shrugged up around
her neck. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “You were like some old ghost or
something after you went off to college. Your mom talked about you all the
time, but sometimes I wasn’t even sure if you were real anymore, or just some
figment of memory I made up as a kid.”

“Becky…”

“I mean, I know we weren’t
best buds in school, and all that, but you never treated me like the other kids
did.” When she looked away, I noticed she blinked quickly to hide the tears
that welled up in her eyes. “And I was real sad to see you take off outta here
and never come back.”

It was the alcohol-tainted
truth that made me burst into tears, and within a matter of minutes we were
sobbing all over each other, and while it felt good to hear that my leaving
actually mattered to someone other than my parents, it broke my heart that it
saddened her so.

“I’m sorry,” I stepped back
and reached for a paper towel. I handed a wad to her, and then started to wipe
my own tears on another. “I had no idea, Becky, and for that I really am
sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she sniffled,
and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “Really, Janice, I needed to learn to
stand up for myself and be myself no matter what. Who’s to say I’d have ever
done that? I mean, you never know.”

I nodded. “And maybe if I’d
stayed here, I might never have realized that this place wasn’t so bad.”

The door opened and a woman
I’d seen on the dance floor came bustling in to use the bathroom. Becky and I
took a few minutes to pull ourselves together, and I tried to figure out how on
earth I was going to face Troy feeling all weird and nostalgic thanks to a
night’s worth of drinking coupled with Becky’s emotional admission.

We were headed back out into
the bar, but I paused for a moment and put my arm on Becky’s shoulder. “I just
want you to know,” I started, “even after I go back to the city, I’m not going
to forget again, and I will be back.”

She nodded and smiled,
“Good. I could use a friend like you in my life.”

Blinking furiously to keep
from breaking into tears again, I laughed and said, “So could I.”

Chapter Eleven

Troy was standing at the bar
chatting with the bartender when Becky and I walked by, and I felt a slight
sense of relief. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him, just that I
couldn’t stand how nervous I felt around him. Sooner or later I was going to
make a complete fool of myself again, and really didn’t need that kind of
humiliation. Lastly, I didn’t need another reason to start thinking twice about
never moving back to Sonesville.

Anne Marie and Tracy were
deep in conversation when we resumed our seats, and barely even looked up. I
glanced toward the bar, and just looking in his direction made me nervous
enough to reach for the mixed drink I’d left sitting on the table before we’d
walked Lydia to her cab. Most of the ice melted, but I gulped down half the
watery contents, and then wiped a drip from the corner of my mouth.

He leaned casually into the
bar as though he had all the confidence in the world. I don’t know why I’d been
thinking of him as shy, and attributed it to the fact that my only real
reference of him over the last few days had been in one on one conversation. He
laughed at something the bartender said, nodding his head as if in agreement.
Maybe he’d forget about Becky’s urge to buy us a round of drinks, and though I
kept trying to tell myself that was what I really wanted, the thought alone
convinced me otherwise.

“We’re going to take off,
Beck,” Anne Marie finally looked up. “I’m starting to get a headache.”

“Awe,” Becky frowned and
reached for Anne Marie’s hand. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Anne Marie nodded, and a
swift grin brightened her face. ‘“Too much fun for one night.”

“We did have a lot of fun,
didn’t we?”

Tracy was foraging through
her purse when she asked, “Do you want me to drive you home too, Becky?”

“It’s probably a good idea
if I don’t drive myself.”

Troy moved soundlessly in
behind me, I sensed him there almost before Becky looked up at him. Her grin
prompted me to glance up over my shoulder just in time to catch him moving
toward the chair beside me. “John couldn’t remember what you ladies were drinking,
so he’s going to send Gabby over in a minute to take care of you.”

“That was sweet,” Anne Marie
noted in a sing-song fashion that actually made me giggle just a little. I
reached for my drink and finished it off, plunking the glass down on the table.
“We’re getting ready to take off,” she admitted. “I’m getting a headache.”

“And I’m the designated
driver, so…” Tracy shrugged.

“You know, I don’t think I’m
quite ready to go yet.” Becky’s admission came with a hint of alarm that almost
confirmed my accusation that she was trying to set me up. “I think I’ll just
split a taxi with Janice.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, then, we’re off,”
Tracy pushed away from the table.

Their leaving was an awkward
flourish as they both expressed their joy at having finally met me. There were
insistent promises that we all get together again the next time I came to town,
and after about five minutes Becky promised she’d be right back, and hurried
off to walk them outside before the fury of my stare could grab her attention.

Troy and I weren’t alone
long enough for it to get awkward because Gabby slipped in and asked me what I
wanted to drink. I already had my share, that was for sure, and I knew I
probably shouldn’t have gone that far, but I ordered a tall Long Island Iced
Tea and inwardly cringed at the consequences I’d have to face come morning. I
couldn’t remember the last time I drank so much, but there was a vague memory
of a hangover promise that I’d never drink that much again.

Gabby hustled back to the
bar, and I looked longingly for some sign of Becky in the lounge.

“You seem nervous.” Troy
leaned into the table, a feat which must have been slightly uncomfortable for
someone of his height. Despite that, he seemed perfectly relaxed, almost
casual.

“What?” I reached for my
last drink, having forgotten it was empty. “Don’t be silly.”

Don’t be silly?
Silly—from the woman who was inwardly reminding herself to breathe. Yes,
Janice, breathe in and then out, but not too quickly or you’ll pass out and
create more talk for that one horse town than it can handle.

“Good,” he smiled. “You
know, I was surprised to see you here tonight.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Me too, I
mean, me… I was surprised to see you here too.”

“I don’t come out often, but
sometimes it’s nice to get away from it all.”

Momentarily fascinated by
his hands, I watched his fingers curl around the neck of his beer bottle and
could almost remember how they’d felt against my skin at the funeral. In a
world spinning out of control he’d been a brief moment of comfort. There was a
thick callus along his index finger, and though his hands were clean the
evidence of how hard he worked was all over them.

“It is nice to escape
sometimes.”
 
Good grief, one would
think I’d never been attracted to a man before, or even spoken to one for that
matter.

“So, are you still planning
to escape back to that big city of yours by Sunday?”

I swallowed, “Yeah, that’s
the plan for now.”

“Plans change,” he shrugged.

“They could, but I really
don’t know that I could take any more time off from my job without getting
fired.”

“You write for some big
paper out there, right?”

“The
Tribune-Review
.” There was enough pride in my tone that even I
recognized it, and for a moment I felt ashamed.

“We’ve got newspapers here
too.” I wasn’t quite sure what that was supposed to mean, and before I had a
chance to ask him, Gabby returned with my drink. He watched me tear the paper
from the top of the straw and take a long drink before continuing with this
thought. “Don’t you feel a little more forgiving of the town now? I mean, now
that you’re mom’s passed away…”

“I don’t understand what you
mean,” but I did. For the most part I was blown away he sensed the issue I’d
been struggling with since Sunday.

“We all wanted to get away
from this place,” he pointed out. “It’s like some kind of switch turns on in
every single one of us from the time we see our first big city on TV. But once
you’ve had a taste of the city, of how cold and indifferent it can be to you
and your dreams…”

“Poor Anne Marie,” Becky
seemed like she’d come up out of nowhere and though the news she brought was
grievous, I was more than happy to see her. “She got sick in the parking lot.”

“Oh no,” I looked away from
Troy, grateful for the moment’s reprieve from his intensity.

“She gets migraines, and it
doesn’t really help with all the cigarette smoke in the air,” she explained,
resuming her seat on the other side of me.

The three of us were silent
for a moment, and then Troy asked, “Did you want another drink, Becky?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,
I was just teasing outside.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he
grinned, pushing away from the table. I watched him rise against the dim and
smoky background, a strong shadow against the sporadic dance floor lighting.

“Well, if you insist,” she
gave in. “I’ll have one more White Russian, please.”

“One White Russian coming
up,” he started toward the bar. It could have been my imagination, but I swear
he winked at me before he walked away. I could use that as an excuse, I
decided, following the perfect fit of his Levi’s halfway across the bar before
until Becky reached over and slapped my shoulder.

“Good grief, girl, for
someone who doesn’t want to make herself known, you’re sure as hell giving
yourself away there!”

“I thought he winked at me.”
I reached for my drink and brought the straw to my lips without taking my gaze
from Troy. “Besides,” from the corner of my eye, I noted that she was staring
too, her head tilted slightly to the left, “how can you not look at that?”

“Yeah,” a sigh escaped her.
“I see what you mean,” and within seconds the two of us burst into laughter and
turned back into the table. “Great! Now you’ve got me doing it.”

“You can’t blame me,” I
shook my head. “It’s the jeans.”

“Great scapegoating,” she
held up her hand for a high five. “So what were you two talking about?” She
asked. “The conversation seemed like it was getting pretty deep when I ruined
it.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” I
assured her. “We were just talking about forgiving the town or something. I
don’t remember.”

“You know, you probably
aren’t gonna remember your own name by the time you finish that drink,” she
mused.

Another strawful, and I
pulled the half-empty glass away to inspect it. “You’re probably right. Don’t
let me make an ass out of myself, if you can help it.”

“I’ll do my best, but I
don’t know how many promises I’ll be able to keep after this next drink.”

Not feeling reassured, I
noted that the light numbness in my head had grown into a full facial tingling.
There was one good thing about being drunk, I realized. My confidence would
start to kick in. In fact, just realizing that made me sit up a little
straighter, while my mind started plotting ways I could prove to Troy that he
didn’t make me as nervous as he thought he did.

Maybe I’d ask him to dance
if they played another slow song. I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined
melting against his chest as wrapped his arms around me. God, I couldn’t even
remember the last time I’d danced with someone. Had it really been senior prom?
Surely I’d been out in the city, danced with someone, but all memory seemed to
have escaped me. That did it then! If the DJ dared play another slow song, I’d
go for it. I’d ask him to dance, and then he’d see I wasn’t nervous.

“Here you are, Madame,”
Troy’s shadow preceded him, and I opened my eyes to look up at him. He slid a
glass across the table to Becky and resumed his seat. “One White Russian.”

He was still carrying the
same beer he’d had when he first joined us at the table. “You’re not going to
have another drink?” I gestured toward the bottle.

“Oh, no,” he shook his head.
“One’s my limit when I have to drive.”

“You have to drive?” Becky
dropped her straw on the table and took a small taste of the creamy drink in
front of her.

“Walking isn’t an option
when you live out as far as I do.”

“Maybe you could give Janice
a ride home.” Under the table my foot shot out on instinct and connected with
what must have been her shin. She winced and tried to hide the shock of it,
then added, “Janice and me, I mean. ‘Cos we were just gonna get a cab.”

“I can take you both home
whenever you’re ready.”

“Then that’s settled.” She
avoided my glare and pretended to be interested in one of the ice cubes in her
glass, but there was a sly grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. I was
definitely going to get her back someday.

An awkward quiet moved among
us, and for a moment I concentrated on the music. The final chorus of some
Aerosmith song faded, only to be replaced by the steady admission of country
singer Toby Keith, who almost said, “I love you…” The slow trickle of piano
keys followed, and my inner promise of drunken confidence reminded me that I
was going to ask Troy to dance the next time a slow song came on. Couples were
already shuffling onto the dance floor, and the lights dimmed to a slow,
romantic pulse.

I reached for my drink and
took several long, through-the-straw sips, then set my glass down on the table.
My dying brain cells were abuzz with the chaos, and in my newfound, drunken
empowerment, I leaned across the table and asked, “Do you want to dance?”

For a moment he seemed taken
aback by the question, and I couldn’t stop the grin that followed. That’d teach
him to ask if he made me nervous. In fact, it seemed like a good time to turn
that question right back on him. After the shock wore off, he pushed the chair
away from the table again, and held his hand out to me in silent acceptance. I
took it and followed his lead onto the dance floor.

I didn’t have to look back
over my shoulder at Becky, I could sense her giddiness, or maybe it was my own.
I’d never felt so many butterflies all at once, and I started to get scared
that I was going to faint again. Troy swayed to the music and drew me close to
him, left hand clasped my right and he drew me close with the other. Sounding
alarms inside warned me to stay stiff and keep a respectable distance, but I
relaxed against him with a sigh, and laid my cheek against his shoulder.

“You’re full of surprises,”
he lowered his head against mine.

“It’s probably not really
me,” I said. “You can blame it on the alcohol.”

“You know what they say
about alcohol and truth.”

“I certainly would never
have even thought of doing this if I were sober.”

“So I do make you nervous
then?”