Kiss Me Hard Before You Go (20 page)

“You’re old enough to make your own mistakes,” he said.

That was a first. Gray never snapped at her like that, and she couldn’t tell if he was mad at her choice of date or just angry she was going on a date in general.

“Sorry,” he said softly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just tired and cranky is all.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it ain’t.” He shook his head solemnly. “If I get a bad feeling about this fella, I ask that you respect me and don’t go out with him. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded slowly.

“Thank you.” He formed a tight smile.

Finch knocked on the door, and Gray moved to open it. “Mr. Barnes,” Finch said with a stammer. “I’m Finch Mills.” Gray was big and tall, and the look he was giving Finch was intimidating.

Finch extended his hand and Gray shook it. “Come in,” he said. “What kind of name is Finch? Your parents into birds or something?”

Finch cleared his throat and let out a nervous laugh. “No sir. I was named after the state bird of Iowa, where I was born.”

“A yankee boy, huh?” Gray muttered.

Finch walked inside their home and did a quick look around. It was exactly how he had remembered: sheer lace curtains hanging from the big picture windows; a green plaid sofa; and a huge rug centering the room.

“Evie tells me you’re taking her out to eat,” Gray said.

“Yes sir,” Finch answered, and Evie was surprised the word “sir” was a part of Finch’s vocabulary.

“So, what do you do in the carnival?” Gray asked him.

“I fix all of the equipment,” he said.

“Hmm,” Gray nodded appraisingly. “That’s a useful skill.”

“Yes sir, it is,” Finch answered politely. “You have a nice farm,” he added.

Evie had to stifle a laugh. Finch was trying too hard, and it was painfully obvious.

“Thank you,” Gray said. “Why don’t you sit down so we can talk for a bit?”

Finch moved to the sofa and sat down. Gray plopped down in his recliner and leaned forward. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” Finch said.

Gray smacked his lips. “And where are you from?”

“I can’t pinpoint a place. We travel so much, but if I had to say somewhere, I guess Florida. That’s where I spend half of my time each year.” Finch shrugged.

Gray continued interrogating Finch, and Evie noticed that Finch remained cool and collected, answering each question that Gray asked without a hint of irritation.

“Y’all better get on going. I’m sure you’re hungry,” Gray said and got up.

Finch stood up and shook Gray’s hand again. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Make sure you have Evie home by eleven o’clock,” he said. “On the dot, and not a minute late.” He shot Finch a stern, “I mean business” look.

“Yes sir, I will,” Finch said and motioned for Evie to follow him out the door. He rushed to Stoney’s truck and opened the door for her.

Evie stepped up inside and sat down. Finch slumped against the seat and let out a deep resounding breath. He leaned over and buckled her lap belt.

“What are you doing?” She looked down at his hands.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I used to be a ride attendant at the carnival. I guess I’m used to buckling seat belts.”

She chuckled and said, “So, you survived the interrogation.”

He laughed in response and turned the ignition. “It was my first,” he admitted. He’d never had to meet a girl’s father before, and he thought he didn’t do half-bad for having a lack of experience in that department.

“I didn’t know ‘sir’ was a word you even knew,” she teased.

“Ha, ha,” he said sarcastically. “I wasn’t raised in the wilderness. My mom did make sure I had some manners.” He looked in the rear view mirror and reversed the truck before doing a one-eighty.

“Still,” she continued. “It was funny to watch.”

He shot her a quick glance. “I’m glad I amuse you so much.”

“You do.” She placed her hand on his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

***

It was a slow night at The Diner. Finch and Evie were immediately seated in a corner booth that faced the front window, giving them a bird’s eye view of pedestrian traffic. Everything inside was beige, brown and orange, a product of refurbishing from a few years earlier. Evie missed the aqua green tufted booths and light blue counter tops, but Antonio, the owner, thought a renovation was in order. Music played from the jukebox as a waitress took their order for drinks.

“Pepsi,” Finch said.

“We don’t serve Pepsi here,” the waitress said. She wore a beige uniform with a white apron tied at her plump waist. Her silver hair was tied in a bun, and green pointed glasses fell down the bridge of her nose. She pushed them up. “We only got Coke.”

“Tea then,” he said.

“Pepsi?” Evie shook her head with disappointment.

“You go north of the Mason Dixon line and you’ll see that most people prefer Pepsi.”

“Ha,” she scoffed. “Then they’re all stupid.”

“Do they have stupid faces too?” he teased and grabbed a hold of her hand, gently rubbing the surface of it with his thumb.

She struggled for words and let out a soft, “Yes.”

The waitress brought them their drinks and took their order. Finch took a sip of his tea and grimaced. “Sweet,” he said.

“You ordered tea,” Evie said.

“Tea, not sweet tea.”

“You have to order unsweetened tea if that’s what you want, otherwise, it’ll always be sweet. Poor Yankee.” She patted him on the arm, feeling the hard muscle underneath his shirt. He had dressed up for the evening, wearing a button-down shirt instead of his usual rock band t-shirts, and his hair had obviously been combed.

“Since when are Floridians yankees?”

“Since they don’t know the difference between sweet tea and unsweetened tea,” she said. “Does the sun really shine while it rains down there?”

“Sometimes,” he said. “I’m only there in the late fall and winter, though.”

“I bet it’s beautiful,” she sighed while she said it.

“Some parts are. But it’s nice here too,” he said. “You’ll have to come down there sometime when I’m there. I could show you around,” he offered.

“I’d love that,” she said, and she meant it. “I really want to see the Gulf of Mexico. It sounds amazing.”

“It is, Evie.”

They waitress brought them their food and they began to eat. They continued to talk as they ate, sharing more things about themselves.

“How did you go to school?” she asked.

“I was home schooled, and Rolf was my instructor. He was a teacher in Germany,” he explained. “When I turned sixteen I got my GED. I never had the normal high school experience,” he said, using quote marks with his fingers. “No proms, no football games, none of the events that will give me nostalgia later on when I’m old.”

“You didn’t miss much,” she said. “Dances are overrated, and football is stupid.”

“Because the players have stupid faces?” he kidded.

“Exactly,” she said with a smile.

They continued to talk, discussing politics and war, and other adult topics that they had never been broached with anyone else. They discovered their commonalities and their differences, what bothered them, and what brought them to tears.

“You named a calf after James Brown?” he asked with disbelief.

“He’s from South Carolina, and he’s the godfather of soul. Anyways, James suited the calf,” Evie said. Finch laughed aloud, causing the few restaurant patrons to stare at them.

Time passed, but neither of them could tell how late it was. To them it felt slower, frozen almost. So many stories and secrets were unraveled in a short amount of time. And there were so many more stories and tales that they could share if time allowed.

The waitress approached their table and said, pointing to the clock on the wall, “Sorry y’all, but It’s closing time.”

“Sorry,” Finch apologized, seeing they were the only ones left in the restaurant. It was 10:30. He only had half an hour before he had to take Evie home, and he wished at that very moment that he could freeze time. One more hour wasn’t enough. He wanted a day, no a week, actually, maybe a month would be good.

They stepped outside, and he placed his arm over her shoulder as they headed to Stoney’s truck. It felt natural to both of them, and Evie snuggled closer into him, feeling the warmth of his breath on her hair.

“Evelyn,” Nate said, stepping from the shadows and inhibiting them from taking another step.

“Hello,” she said, and Finch could sense the change in her mood. She was tense.

“Have you heard from my Katie?” The way Nate McDaniels stared at her made her a big bundle of nerves.

“No,” she lied.

“I find that hard to believe,” he said. “Y’all are best friends, aren’t you?”

“I, I,” she stuttered.

“She says she hasn’t, so why don’t you step aside so I take her home,” Finch said.

Nate glared at him. “You’ve got some nerve. Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? This conversation is between me and her.”

He let go of Evie and took a step forward in front of her. “I promised her dad I’d have her home soon, and I aim to keep my word,” Finch said.

Nate held up his hand and said, “No snot nosed carny kid is going to talk to me like that! You better watch your mouth, boy.” His jaw tensed, and his stare hardened. He leaned over him. The way he said “boy” infuriated Finch. He sounded like those prison cops in the movie
Cool Hand Luke
.

Finch wasn’t frightened in the slightest. He opened his jacket and tapped on the head of his knife. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I’m gonna be getting her home on time like her dad expects me to,” he said.

Nate backed off and scowled at him. “You better hope you don’t run into me again.”

Finch stepped to the side and held onto Evie’s hand as he walked to Stoney’s truck.

They sat inside, neither one of them said a word for a few minutes. Evie breathed heavily, trying to calm her heart.

Finch punched the steering wheel. “That guy’s a real piece of work.”

“I thought you were going to knife him,” Evie said.

He turned his head in her direction. “A guy like that has his head so far up his ass, I have to paint a picture for him to understand my language,” he said. “Sorry.” He shook his head, looking down at his balled up fists.

She scrunched her face. “For what?”

He looked up at her. “I’m trying to mind my manners when I’m around you.”

“You think cursing offends me?”

“No,” he said. “But I’m trying to be a nice guy.”

“Don’t try, just be, Finch, ‘cause I like you as you are,” she said and turned away, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. “Were you really going to cut Mr. McDaniels?”

“No, Evie,” he laughed as he said it, still feeling the weight of her last words. She liked him. There, she said it out in the open for him to hear. She liked him. “This isn’t
West Side Story
. I just knew that a man like that wouldn’t listen otherwise. Trust me, I’ve met plenty like him in my life.”

“I told you he was scary,” she said.

“I’m not scared of him,” he said seriously. “His type cowers behind others and gets them to do his dirty work.” He brought his hand down to hers and stared her in the eye. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m just worried about Katie.”

“I can see why, Evie. I can see why,” his voice trailed off, and he started up the truck and drove her home.

He opened her door and walked with her to the front door. She peered inside her window and saw her dad asleep on the couch. The television blared, and Gray’s snoring echoed to the outside.

“I had a nice time,” Evie whispered. “Thank you.”

“Me too. We should go out again,” he said, wanting to add the words, tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, but no way was he going to be a bumbling mess.

“Definitely,” she agreed. “You’re going to have to learn how to order a tea, though.”

“Ugh with the tea. Cut me some slack,” he kidded. “You’re going to have to acquire some taste in movies.”

“I told you I liked
Rocky
,” she said. After a heated debate about their favorite movies, Finch conceded that Evie had an inkling of taste because she thought Rocky was a good movie. It was one of his favorites, and if she had said she hated it, he knew he’d still want to date her.

“That’s true,” he said. He looked down at her and tilted his head.

Evie’s heart raced, feeling the anticipation.

He placed his hands around her waist and brought her closer to him. His touch was firm but gentle. “I really want to kiss you right now, Evie Barnes, but your dad is on the other side of that door, and I don’t want to make him mad.” He kissed her forehead and released her from his embrace.

She tried to catch her breath. Her mouth was open, and she could see the yearning in his eyes.

He moved to the top step and stopped, spinning to face her. “Good night, Evie.”

“Night, Finch,” she managed to say before she pushed the door open.

Gray woke up in an instant. He checked his watch and said, “A few minutes early.” He gave a nod of approval.

“I think he knew if he had me home late you would have broken both of his legs.”

“Nah,” he swiped his hand, “just the one.” He smiled. “You have a good time?”

“Yes.” She nodded with a wide grin.

“He seems all right, I guess. He laid it on a little heavy with all the ‘sirs,’ but I figure he wanted to make a good impression, and that tells me he must like you a ton if he’s trying to win my approval.”