Always and Forever Page 4

  God, I’m so mad. How the hell did this happen? Better yet, what the hell was Brody thinking? Like, all of a sudden he’s decided we’re supposed to be together again and I have no say in it? He practically just made a fool out of me in front of the entire town… again. An angry tear rolls down the side of my face as I’m still glaring at the decorative antique ceiling tiles when my phone rings and I sit up to see it’s Ryan.

  “Yeah?” I clip out, not concealing my anger at what’s just happened.

  “You okay?”

  “Sure. I’m fabulous. Just peachy keen, Ry. Not like Brody didn’t just make me look like an idiot in front of everyone, embarrassing the shit out of me.”

  “Aw, Pipe, it wasn’t that bad…”

  “No? Everyone’s gonna think we’re together again now! I heard what people were saying. ‘How cute!’ and ‘Oh, he loves her so much!’” I put my elbow on the desk and my forehead in my hand.

  I hear her take a breath and let it out. “He does love you, Pipe,” she says quietly.

  I sit up quickly. “Yeah, he loves me so much that he broke up with me because of a fucking lame reason! And then he doesn’t talk to me for a year! Yep! That’s true love for you, right there!”

  “I still say something happened that he’s not telling you.”

  “Ya think?” That comes out hateful but I don’t care. I’m so tired of it all. And it’s not that I’m being egotistical in thinking that he couldn’t have just broken up with me, but I know him too well and I’ve almost broken my brain trying to figure out what the reason was but tonight I find I just don’t give a shit.

  “Where are you?”

  “My office.”

  “I’ll be there in a few. You got cups ‘cause I don’t really wanna share a bottle.”

  “You know I do.”

  “See you in a sec,” she says and hangs up.

  ~~~

  “I so thought Mr. Batchelder was going to win me,” Ryan says, filling my teacup from the bottle of Knob Creek she got for Christmas from a customer.

  I laugh then take a drink making a face not used to drinking straight bourbon or whiskey or whatever this is. We’re sitting on the loveseat that’s at the back of my store with our feet up on the coffee table, high heels on the floor under it.

  “Who got this for you?” I ask.

  “Sean Matthews, Mr. Sexy Football Coach,” she answers, biting her lip. “If he didn’t have a girlfriend, although I’ve never seen her, I’d be all over him like herpes on a vag—”

  I slap a hand over her mouth. “Don’t you dare finish that.”

  She snorts when I take my hand away then clanks her teacup against mine before taking a drink. “So, you doing better now?”

  I down what’s left in my cup and she refills it. “I’m still pissed,” I say with a shrug. “But one more cup of this and I might not give a shit anymore.”

  “There’s your answer. Just stay drunk all the time and you won’t be mad.”

  I roll my eyes. “Did you talk to Mike?”

  “No, but they gave him my number, so I’m waiting to see what he’s gonna have me do for a whopping thirty bucks, Ms. I Got Bought for Five Hundred Dollars. Jesus, that’s a lot of cash.”

  I purse my lips. “I know. So stupid.” I finish off the rest of my drink and welcome the fogginess that’s starting to invade my head giving me a slight reprieve from my worries. Ryan just might have something with the staying drunk all the time gig.

  She lifts her cup to her mouth and says before drinking, “At least the money’s going to a good cause.”

  I laugh and take the bottle from her filling my cup again. “I hope the park people erect an elephant with a slide coming out of its ass in his honor.”

  Ryan giggles. “Or a fountain with a woman vomiting out the water.”

  “In my likeness and flipping everyone off,” I add and smirk at the thought.

  “Good one.”

  “I wonder what Brody’s gonna want me to do.” I curl my legs up under me, covering them with my dress as I turn to face her resting my cup on my thigh.

  She puts her head back against the loveseat and looks at me. “You probably don’t want me to answer that.”

  “God, is your mind always in the gutter?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m thinking I’ll just give the city the five-hundred dollars and they can void his check. Then I won’t have to worry about it.”

  “You’re no fun.”

  I shrug. We sit in silence for a bit drinking, both of us wondering what these guys are going to make us do. She’s had two more cups than I have now and I know that’s not good because she’s a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. I’m about to tell her to slow down when my phone rings. “Hey, Greer,” I answer. “Tell Clay thanks for trying.”

  “Hi, Greersy-poo!” Ryan hollers.

  I put the phone on speaker. “Hey, Ry,” Greer replies. “Yeah, he tried. Sorry, Pipe. We just couldn’t justify putting up Addie’s college fund to bail you out of being won by Brody.” She snorts. “Where are you guys?”

  “My store getting plastered. You should join us,” I tell her.

  “I would but we’re leaving in the morning and I don’t want to deal with a hangover and being in the car for an hour with Addie wanting to play ‘Where’s the moo cow’ all the way home.”

  “Aw! I don’t want you to leave yet,” I say with a pout.

  “I know but Clay works Monday and I’ve got a mani-pedi scheduled. Maybe you can come up next weekend?”

  “Maybe. Unless I’m having to be Brody’s fucking slave.”

  “Oooh, a fucking slave. I’m thinking that might kinda be fun.” She chuckles again.

  “I see you’ve got jokes tonight,” I snap. Ryan’s cracking up so I smack her arm and give her a scowl.

  “Hey!” she grumbles, scowling at me then she smiles suddenly. “Wouldn’t mind being Mike’s fucking slave,” she retorts and starts laughing again. Yep. She’s drunk.

  “Drunkard,” I remark, shaking my head at her.

  “Takes one to take one!” she counters having no clue what she’s said.

  “Why’re you getting drunk and this shit’s not even affecting me?” I ask, leaning forward to pick up the bottle to check out the alcohol percentage.

  Greer chimes in, “It’s because your adrenaline is going crazy. Brody got you all hot and bothered.”

  “Hanging up now.”

  “Lighten up. Look, you haven’t had fun in a year. Have some fun. Stop being so serious about everything. We all know Brody’s a good guy, he just screwed up. Find out why. You’ll feel better,” Greer advises.

  “Yeah!” Ryan adds. “You can be like Veronica Mars all sneaky and shit! I’ll help you too!”

  “That does sound kinda fun. I’ll think about it.” I hear Addie crying in the background. “She’s still up?”

  Greer huffs. “She’s on a sugar high. Someone shouldn’t have given her some of their cotton candy.” I hear Clay holler, “The way she ate it was so cute, though!” and I chuckle. “Gotta go and see if I can get her down,” my sister acknowledges.

  “Okay. Thank you for everything. I love you. You all be careful going home tomorrow,” I say.

  “Love you too. We will. Call me this week!”

  After we hang up, Ryan asks what I think Mike might want her to do. I finish what’s left in my cup as Ryan pours herself another, drinking it down quickly, suddenly nervous.

  “I don’t know. Usually, when someone pays thirty bucks, which is well above the norm, mind you, they have them do some sort of menial task. Maybe he’s gonna have you do his dishes or something,” I reply.

  “I hope he doesn’t want me to do his laundry. Guys’ laundry is disgusting.” She makes a face.

  “Then again, maybe it’s just a cover for him to ask you out.”

  She lets out
a squeal at that prospect all giddy and shit then proceeds to jump up and run to my bathroom and puke her brains out.

  “Guess I was full,” she says, looking up at me from where she kneels in front of the toilet and wincing.

  I laugh. “Yeah, I guess you were. At least you already had your hair pulled back.”

  “Ever the optimist,” she mutters and wipes her mouth with some toilet paper.

  “Yep, that’s me. Ever the optimist.” I roll my eyes as I get a washrag out of the cabinet and run it under the cold water. When it’s good and wet, I wring it out then kneel down beside her and wipe her face.

  She leans to the side resting her head against the wall. “Thanks, Pipe.”

  “Least I can do, Ry. God knows you’ve had to take care of me lots of times this past year. This is just one of my turns.”

  “Just one? Oh, God, you mean I’m gonna do this stupid shit again?”

  I laugh. “The way we are, odds are looking pretty good,” I answer and she groans.

  She closes her eyes and I don’t want her to fall asleep in my bathroom, so I ask, “Ready to go home?”

  Eyes still closed, she nods. I help her up, get her jacket on her and my sweater on me then we stumble out to my awesome black Charger (the one thing I splurged on after the break up to make me feel better which it did but didn’t, if that makes sense) to take her home. She only lives two blocks south of my store so we’re there in no time. I’ve got a key to her house and business as she does mine, so after unlocking the door I get her inside, undressed and in bed. When I set a bottle of water and some aspirin on her nightstand, she grabs my hand before I leave.

  “Pipe, you really think Mike wants to go out with me?”

  I frown and sit down on her bed next to her hating that she’s even the least bit apprehensive about it all. “Of course. And if he doesn’t, his loss. You’re gorgeous. Funny. Sweet. If he can’t see that, then he doesn’t deserve you to begin with.” I cup her cheek in my palm. “Chicks before dicks, though, right?”

  She snorts. “Always. Love you, Pipe…”

  And she’s out.

  I drive back through town going home to my cute little Cape Cod styled house which is three blocks from my store. I bought it for a song three years before when a local couple had to move quickly because of the husband’s job relocation. When I bought it, it wasn’t in great condition or very cute, so Dad and I set out to make repairs and make it “me.” Now it’s perfect with yellow siding, black shutters, a red front door and two gabled dormer windows up top that have flower boxes which in the spring and summer boast colored varieties of dwarf zinnias and moss rose, and I absolutely adore it. When Brody and I were together, we spent almost equal amounts of time at each other’s places although I preferred mine since I had everything I needed to cook. He’d asked me to move in with him several times, but I loved my house and didn’t want to leave it, and thank God I hadn’t sold it or I’d have ended up out on the street or living with Mom and Dad.

  As I drive down Main Street, I notice that Jen’s is looking pretty busy and it’s only a little after eleven, so I decide to check it out, maybe get a bead on the buzz around town about Brody and me while I’m a tiny bit mellowed out from Ryan’s booze. I mean, what better way to find out about yourself but to ask other people. Jeez. When I get inside I see one of the bands that performed at the Hullabaloo is on stage, the lead singer crooning out an old George Strait song.

  “Piper!”

  To my right, Finley Hawkins is grinning and waving me over. She graduated high school a year after I did and is not only one of our part-time librarians but also the one and only reporter for our town’s newspaper, the Serenity Point Post, covering everything from the latest news, arrests, and obituaries to high school sports. She’s a little taller than I am and really thin (I think it’s because she was a track star in high school and still runs daily) but she eats like a horse. Believe me, I’ve seen her at the Fourth of July celebration in the park where the city uses funds from the Hullabaloo to serve free hotdogs, drinks and chips and it isn’t pretty.

  Ryan’s always chewing Fin out because she gets so caught up in her book reading and newspaper writing (because so much happens here in the Point), she doesn’t take a lot of time on her appearance, usually wearing her long auburn hair in a messy bun with at least one pencil sticking in it and no makeup, which she actually doesn’t need because she’s got gorgeous skin with freckles that dot her nose and cheeks. But her clothing choices do sometimes make me chuckle. There’ve been plenty of times I’ve seen her walking down the street past my store either busy talking into her recorder or writing something down and wearing Round House overalls that are two sizes too big. But I see that tonight she’s made it out of her house wearing faded blue jeans and a gray sweater with a black skull on it and her hair’s in a high ponytail. Good for her.

  “Hey, Fin! You get a lot about the Hullabaloo for the paper?” I ask as I take a seat on a barstool at her table for two.

  “I did! And you’re just the person I wanted to see.” She smiles big at me.

  Hoo boy. She was at the auction and wants the scoop on Brody and me, I’m sure. Just what I want, an article in the paper so everyone can fact check what they’ve already heard through the grapevine with the details of my story.

  “What’ll it be, Pipe?” Martina, the best waitress at Jen’s, asks.

  “Hey, Martina. Just the light beer on tap, please,” I answer. She smiles and murmurs, “Gotcha,” then goes to her next table.

  I look back at Fin and play dumb. “Why am I who you want to see?”

  “Well, first of all, how’d business go today?”

  Ah. She’s stalling before she gets to the juicy part. Maybe if I keep her busy with my sales, she’ll forget to ask about the auction.

  “It went great! I took in almost three times more than I average a week and seven hundred more than last year, which is amazing. How’d the other businesses do?” This should distract her enough for her to stay away from the dangerous questions.

  “Oh, you’re the first person I’ve talked to about it. Now, about the auction…”

  Ergh.

  “So, how do you feel about Brody’s bidding on you?”

  Martina brings my beer which I take from her hand and down a big drink. If I tell Fin about the whiskey I drank earlier, maybe I can claim that a sudden case of inebriation has rendered me incapable of answering questions right now. If she doesn’t buy that, I can always behave like a mean drunk, my belligerence making her cease any and all questions about the auction. As I take another drink, I grip the table wondering if it’s too heavy for me to flip in case I have to prove I’ve given in to firewater fury.

  I set my mug down but bring it back up for another go, and what do you know, I need another.

  “Uh, hang on. I’ve gotta get Martina’s attention.” I wave my hand until Martina finally sees me and nods. I look back at Fin. “Think I need another one in me before I answer. But I’ve gotta warn you, Ryan and I already had, like, an entire bottle of whiskey that Sean Matthews gave her for Christmas, so I might suddenly become antagonistic and behave in an untoward manner, just so you know.”

  But wait a minute. Was that a flicker in her big brown eyes I saw at the mention of Sean’s name? Hm. I might’ve found a diversion to my impending interview.

  “You know, Sean holds the record for most wins of any coach at the high school,” I say, observing her carefully.

  “I know! In the three years he’s been here, he’s garnered more wins than any other coach in the history of the program,” she states matter-of-factly.

  All right. This is good. The longer I keep Fin engaged in this new conversation, the less time she has to ask me questions. Brilliant. Martina brings me my beer but I don’t waste time taking a drink. I’ve got to keep things rolling.

  “Yeah? How many wins is that? And who came closest to him?”
>
  I see the excitement in her eyes as she responds. “Twenty-nine! His first year he went six and five but his second year he went ten and two, taking them to the first round of the State Playoffs. And this year, well, you saw all the excitement going on last fall, they were thirteen and one, one game away from the State Championship! That’s pretty amazing for a third-year coach. The closest was Bob Banner from 1968-1970.”

  “Wow, Fin. I didn’t know you were that into sports.”

  “You do remember that I ran cross country, right? And my dad was the swimming coach at school and my Uncle Roger coached track. And now my brother is an assistant football coach at Landstown. So, yeah, I’d say I’m pretty into sports.” She gives me a “Duh” look.

  I never did sports and my mind’s not made to remember statistics unless it has to do with numbers from my store so I kind of don’t get that way of thinking. I also forgot that coaching runs in her family so I definitely deserved her look.

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot. Tell me more!” I say. Anything to keep her from focusing on me.

  Fin goes on about the various sports in the high school for twenty more minutes which is fantastic. I finish my beer and order another as I sit listening to her because it’s kind of cool that she knows as much as she does.

  When she stalls a bit, I cut in quickly, knowing I’ve avoided a shit ton of embarrassment. “Well, I’ve gotta get home. It was great talking to you, Fin!” I jump down from my barstool and sway a little, immediately feeling the effects of the extra beers. “Yikes!” I say with a giggle. “Guess I’ll be walking home!” And color me contented as it seems that all my troubles have gone bye bye with what seems to be my sudden drunkenness.

  “But… I… you…” she stutters then her eyes narrow and I see her face change. She knows what I did and just shakes her head with a chuckle. “Okay, Piper. See you later.”

  I dig a twenty out of my purse and place it on the table and say, “Talk to you later,” smiling impishly at her. I snort at the look she gives me before I leave her table and make my way to the ladies room. When I finish using the facilities, I cut through the crowd that’s grown tenfold since I got to Jen’s, giggling when one guy calls me sugar and asks where I’m going and another walks halfway behind me begging me for my number. I finally get to the front door and go out into the crisp January night, pulling my sweater tighter around me. Looking up at the sky thinking it just might snow when I suddenly see a shooting star. I gasp then out of habit close my eyes, cross the fingers on both my hands then cross my legs, and stand there whispering quickly to myself, “Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight!” I next proceed to make the wish in my head, the same one I’ve made a thousand times over the past year: that Brody and I will work things out. When I open my eyes, even though I’ve just behaved as a child and I’m still watching the sky, I sigh wistfully.