Here we are, readers. We finally got there – or have we? We will Alex and Molly actually share their feeings with each other? Or will Molly tell Alex she doesn’t have feelings for him? HA! Yeah right on that last one!
This is a novel in progress, so there will most likely be typos, plot holes, or other errors I will hopefully fix before finally publishing the book sometime in 2021. If you’d like to catch up with the story you can find the other chapters HERE.
Chapter 24
She knew he didn’t have errands to run in town.
He knew she wasn’t really going up on the hill for lunch.
He pulled his truck in behind hers’, where she had parked near the overlook, and they climbed out at the same time.
Watching him walk toward her, she pushed the truck door closed by backing against it and then pressed herself there, palms against the hot metal; bracing herself for whatever was coming.
His expression was as intense as it had been earlier in the laundry room, only this time he didn’t look like someone who was interested in stopping to talk.
He cupped one hand behind her head as soon as he reached her and gently yanked off the hair tie she’d used to secure her hair away from her face, pulling the strands loose. Interlacing his fingers in her hair at the back of her head he placed his other hand on the small of her back, pulling her gently against him and lowering his head slowly until his mouth was inches from hers.
Studying her for a brief second his eyes trailed from her eyes to her lips before he caught her mouth with his. She lifted her arms from where she’d had them pinned behind her and tried to figure out where to place her hands, finally settling on his waist, slipping her fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, feeling the warm leather of his belt against her skin.
She welcomed the kiss fully, kissing him back with the same intensity he was kissing her.
When he pulled back several minutes later, they were both breathing hard. He searched her eyes, for what he wasn’t sure. Maybe for shock or fear at his boldness. Instead he only saw desire matching his own. He resumed the kiss, sliding both of his hands into her hair now, cupping the back of her head.
Molly closed her eyes, completely overwhelmed as the kiss deepened, then softened, then deepened again as if he was savoring the moment. She pressed her hands against his chest, not to stop him but to feel him, to feel his heartbeat fast and furious under her palms; to convince herself that this was real.
She’d wanted this kiss for a long time and now that it was happening, she was going to make the most of it. When she felt his hands slip down to her back, though, her muscles tightened. His hands were touching the area near her bra-line, the roll of fat she cried over when she saw herself in a mirror.
He felt the change in her, felt her pulling away from the kiss when seconds before she’d been pushing toward it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, breaking the kiss, pressing his forehead against hers, and breathing hard. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I shouldn’t have — ”
“It’s not that.” Molly couldn’t look at him, couldn’t tell him why she’d pulled away from the kiss. She stared at the top of his shirt, at the tan skin there, the Marine tattoo and traced it with her fingertip.
“You overthinking?”
A smile slowly crossed her lips, but she still couldn’t look at him. “You know me too well.”
His face was still inches from hers, his lips grazing hers. “I want to kiss you again, Molly. Because you are my type of girl. Because I like you the way you are. If you don’t want me to kiss you again, I need you to tell me.”
She stopped her thoughts by lifting her head and pressing her mouth to his, sliding one hand up to the back of his neck and the other into his hair. She didn’t worry about the back fat as the kiss intensified. She could only think about the warmth of his mouth against hers, the feel of his arms around her, the softness of his hair. And then there was the amazing way he smelled. Somehow, she could still smell his aftershave even though he’d been working all day in a barn and lifting heavy bags of seed.
“God, Molly,” Alex gasped hoarsely when he drew his mouth away from hers several moments later and kissed her neck. “It feels amazing to finally be holding you this way.”
His mouth was hot on her skin, trailing a path toward the hallow spot at the base of her throat.
God.
That word.
It snapped Molly out of the fog that had settled over her mind.
Would God approve of her kissing a man like this, pressed up against her truck, in the middle of nowhere? Probably not. And she knew her dad would have a stroke if he caught them.
This moment, here, with Alex’s arms around her felt insanely surreal and confusing. She wasn’t the type of girl men flirted with and kissed yet that’s what had been happening all day between her and Alex.
“Is this some kind of dare?”
Alex pulled back and looked at her with a confused expression, one eyebrow raised. “Huh?”
“You kissing me? Did your friends bet you couldn’t convince Jason’s little sister to kiss you or something?”
Alex laughed softly, shaking his head. “Molly no. Stop it.”
His smile faded as he looked at her. “This is real, Molly. I’ve been falling for you for a long time now and telling myself I wasn’t. In some ways it felt wrong to be so attracted to you. You’re my best friend’s sister, my employer’s daughter . . . but I can’t deny how I feel when I’m around you. You’re different than any woman I’ve ever been around before. I love spending time with you, joking with you, watching you.” He lowered his gaze and winced slightly. “That last part sounded stalkerish.” He cupped her face in his hands, searching her eyes again. “But I’m guessing by the way you’ve been returning my kisses you feel some of the same things about me. Am I right?”
Molly nodded slowly as the palm of his thumb touched her bottom lip gently and he traced her mouth like he had earlier in the laundry room.
“Then kiss me again,” he whispered, lowering his hands to her waist again. “Kiss me and show me I’m not the only one who feels there’s something more between us than friendship.”
When she clutched the front of his shirt, yanked him toward her, and caught his mouth with hers he knew he wasn’t the only one who not only felt but knew that there was more between them than friendship.
Alex had seen Molly wrestle a calf to the ground and clip a tag to its ear more than once. He had to admit he’d watched those wrestling matches with a touch of envy that the calf was able to be so close to Molly when he couldn’t. Now, though, with Molly holding fast to his shirt, he felt like one of those calves and he loved it.
He relished the power in her grip as she held him to her, reminding him of both her physical and emotional strength. Her tight grip on his shirt sweetly contrasted the gentle movement of her mouth brushing his lower lip and then his upper as she kissed him soft and slow.
He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised by the aggressive way she was holding him, considering the passion he’d witnessed in her almost every day in the barn, but he was. That surprise was pleasant and welcome and making it hard for him to remember he’d promised himself he would take it slow with Molly, unlike past relationships.
When she pulled her mouth away slowly several moments later, he was breathless, adrenaline surging through his body fast and furious.
“I think we’ve established we both feel the same way about each other,” he said softly.
“Yes.”
He glanced down at her fingers still wrapped tightly in his shirt. “Um . . . you’ve got quite a grip there. Afraid I’m going somewhere?”
“Maybe.”
He moved his head in a slight shake, propped his hand above her on the top of the truck door and tilted his head. “Not going to happen,” he whispered, his mouth grazing hers. “Kissing you, Molly Tanner, feels like coming home.”
It felt so good, so right to take things slow, to take the time to enjoy the feel of her mouth under his. He slid his fingers into her hair. Her hair. The soft, beautiful hair he had admired from afar for so long. It felt more amazing than he had imagined.
The kisses lingered for several moments longer before Molly pulled her mouth away, sliding her hands up his arms to his biceps.
“Oh my,” she whispered. “They’re as solid as I always thought they’d be.”
Alex laughed. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Hum . . . what?” A mischievous grin tilted Molly’s mouth upward before she mocked shock and embarrassment, placing her hand vertically across her mouth. “Oh. Oops. Did I say that out loud?”
Alex laughed loudly and shook his head. “How long have you wondered about how solid by arms felt?”
She was laughing but suddenly embarrassed by her bold teasing and looked down at the front of his shirt briefly. “Um…maybe a few months or … uh . . . a year or . . . you know what, let’s just pretend I didn’t say that, okay?
“Are you telling me,” he said softly, his lips grazing hers. “that all this time I was afraid to make a move on you that you were thinking of making a move on me?”
Molly shook her head and laughed. “Oh gosh no. I would have never made a move. I don’t make moves. I just daydream and tell myself that what I’m daydreaming about is never going to happen.”
“I guess you were wrong this time. It is happening.”
A buzz of energy, a mix of excitement and trepidation, slid down her spine. She was both thrilled and terrified of the feelings Alex’s kisses had ignited in her.
“We should get back to the barn,” she said softly. “Jason and Dad will wonder where we’ve been.”
Alex nodded. “Yeah, they will. And I don’t know if they’ll be too pleased with me if they find out I was up here making out with you. Maybe we should —”
“Keep it under wraps for now?”
Alex laughed. “Yeah. At least until I learn how to run faster so Jason can’t get ahold of me and kick my butt for kissing his sister.”s
He opened the door to Molly’s truck, and she climbed inside.
He didn’t want her to climb inside.
He didn’t want to let her go.
She leaned her elbow on the edge of the open window. “See you in the barn in a few?”
He grinned, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Yeah. That shouldn’t be too awkward.”
Back on the road a few moments later, putting his hat back on, Alex noticed his knees felt weak, something he’d never experienced after a make-out session. He’d worried he had been too forward, too bold with Molly. Now he couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he remembered how she’d returned his kisses, her hands in his hair, obviously wanting those kisses as much as he had.
His decision to show Molly how he felt about her had definitely been a good one.
He smirked, shifting gears on the downhill incline from the overlook. “Sorry, Benjamin. Looks like Molly isn’t interested in rekindling anything with you, buddy boy.”
Bumping the volume knob, he sang along to the song on the radio, a breeze from the open truck window blowing his hair back from his face and bringing a broad smile to his face. He felt like a man who’d had a large weight lifted off of him. He was going to enjoy this feeling for awhile.
For those who have been following this story each week, this is THE chapter. THE chapter were Alex finally confesses his feelings. Will his confession thrill Molly? Won’t it. Will there be a kiss? Won’t there? Hmmmm…. you’ll have to read on and see. This week I’m adding a little bit I decided to tack on the end of Chapter 22, along with the first part of Chapter 23. I cut the chapter in two for the blog because it is a bit long. I’ll share the second half on Saturday. I think readers who have been rooting for Alex to make a move will like this chapter and excuse it’s length. You may not, however, excuse the cliff hanger of either part.
This, of course, is an installment of a novella in progress. It may have typos, plot holes, missing words, etc. It has yet to be edited and some weeks I haven’t even gone through to rewrite it (but usually it’s been edited a couple of times before I post it here). To catch up with the rest of the story click HERE.
Sit . Ups. Are. From. The. Devil.
Alex grunted with each sit up, glaring at the wall each time he brought his head toward his knees.
How was it possible his aggravation and adrenaline still hadn’t faded after working all day in the barn in the heat? The sun had already set, and his mind was still racing, remembering Molly and Ben sitting together on the front porch, laughing, smiling. What were they smiling about anyhow? What was so funny? Why did Ben keep showing up? What, did he think he could just take advantage of Molly again? Hurt her again?
One hundred. One hundred one. One hundred . . .
Jason exercised to keep in shape.
Alex was exercising to exhaust himself so he couldn’t think anymore. He let his arms fall to his side as he laid on the floor, breathing hard. He heard the cows from the neighbors farm greeting each other in the barn, then silence, except the crickets and the peepers along the stream behind the house.
This is ridiculous, Alex. You either need to give up on Molly or tell her how you feel. You’ve never had an issue going after what you want.
His issue with Molly was that she was different. Molly was special, important, and more than a conquest. She knew more about him than almost anyone else, besides Jason. He felt cheesy saying it, but unlike other woman he wasn’t only attracted to her outside beauty. He was attracted to her inside as well. He rolled his eyes. What in the world was happening to him? He had become so soft since moving here with the Tanners. Or maybe this is who he actually was and that hard, cynical, flippant Alex was the fake one who covered himself up to keep from getting hurt.
He covered his face with his hands, growling softly. Then
“Aarrrgh!”
He had never over analyzed his life as much as he had in the last few months and he was over it. Standing up he yanked his shirt off and tossed it toward a pile of dirty laundry and flopped on his back on his bed, finally exhausted, barely able to keep his eyes open.
Time’s up, Alex. No more thinking. Tell Molly how you feel and if she doesn’t feel the same way you can finally move on with your life.
He moaned softly, staring at the ceiling. His life really had hit a strange patch. Now he was giving himself pep talks in the third person. Rolling onto his side he looked out the bedroom window, toward the Tanner’s farm a mile away. He closed his eyes as sleep overtook him, images of Molly laughing with Ben pushing their way into his dreams.
Chapter 23
Molly lifted the laundry basket, carrying it into the hallway outside her bedroom. She was determined not to let her mom wash her laundry anymore. She’d wash it while her mom was out grocery shopping so her mom couldn’t say, “Let me get that. We can just throw it in with your dad’s laundry.”
Good grief, I’m 26 years old. I can wash my own laundry.
Molly’s thoughts had been consumed with Liz all day. Liz had seemed more alert when she visited her that morning in the hospital, but still exhausted, and still determined not to tell her parents what had happened. When they had called Liz’s cell, she had told them she’d been busy at work, that she had spent the night with Molly, and that her cell service had been spotty. Molly cringed to hear her friend lying to her parents.
Liz had even asked Molly not to tell her own family. Not yet anyhow. Molly had always been close to her parents, her mom especially, so not being able so share Liz’s situation with them was definitely difficult. In some ways she felt like she was deceiving her parents by not sharing with them what was going on, but she also wanted to respect Liz’s wishes.
When her mom had asked her this morning where she had gone the night before she told her she had gone to see Liz, avoiding questions about why or where by quickly announcing she needed to get to the barn to check on one of the pregnant cows.
Molly struggled to carry the basket down the stairs, bumping it against the wall and railing, wincing as she pinched her fingers in a crack in handle. She really needed to buy herself a new laundry basket. She could barely see over the pile of clothes and mentally scolded herself for waiting so long to wash it.
A few seconds later a scream ripped out of her at the sight of a man walking through doorway between the kitchen and the living room. She dropped the clothes basket, reaching for the bannister as she almost lost her balance.
Alex stumbled back against the wall next to the doorway, almost dropping the glass of water in his hand.
“Holy — what are you screaming for?!” he shouted.
“What are you doing here?!” Molly shouted back. “No one was in here when I went upstairs!”
Alex tipped his head back and laughed loudly, the glass of water in one hand and a granola bar in the other.
“Sorry. I came in to grab a glass of water. I didn’t even know you were up there.” He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes with the back of his hand. “That was entertaining though. Thanks.”
Molly’s heart pounded fast in her ears, adrenaline still rushing through her as she laughed and bent down to pick up the clothing that had fallen out of the basket. “Shut up. It’s not like I expected to find a man in my living room.”
Alex grinned. “Is there another room you expected to find a man in?”
Molly rolled her eyes and tossed the clothes back into the basket.
“Ha. Ha. Very funny.”
“Do you want me to help you with that?”
Alex walked toward her, but she raised her hand.
“This is my dirty laundry. No. Just no. That’s gross.”
She walked past him into the kitchen toward the laundry room and he turned slightly to watch her. She was wearing a pair of light blue capris and a loose-fitting gray Needtobreathe tshirt. Her reddish-brown curls were hanging lose down her back, slightly damp. He closed his eyes briefly and smelled coconuts and mango. It must have been her shampoo. Seeing her in her natural element, relaxed, laid back and without her work clothes did something to his insides he wouldn’t have been able to explain if someone had asked him to.
He hadn’t planned on talking to her about his feelings now, but since the opportunity had presented itself — and in an entertaining way at that — he knew he had to take the chance. They were alone, Robert wouldn’t be looking for him yet, and Jason was up in the upper field starting haying. Annie had pulled pull out of the driveway an hour ago, probably on her way to pick up groceries at the little supermarket in town.
Setting the water and granola bar down on the kitchen counter he followed her, leaning against the laundry room door frame.
“So, we haven’t talked much since that day at the overlook,” he started.
Molly loaded her clothes into the washer, her back to him. Warmth rushed from her chest to her cheeks. She hated thinking of that day, how she’d declared she’d always be fat, pointing out her weight in front of Alex. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed, but still, there was no need for her to draw attention to it.
She poured laundry detergent into the washer, unable to look at him. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I guess I had some kind of breakdown or something. I really appreciate you talking me off the ledge, though.”
He tipped his head, studying the curls that fell across her back, the way they shimmered in the sunlight seeping in through the small window above the washer and dryer. He lovedt when those curls were out of the ponytail she usually kept them in, which wasn’t often.
“You’re too hard on yourself, Molly.”
She pushed start on the washer, her heartrate increasing at the tone of his voice. It was different than when they were simply joking around in the barn. It was more serious today; more sincere, like the day at the overlook.
Molly turned to see what expression was complimenting the voice. Her breath caught at the way he was looking at her, the intensity in his eyes.
He dropped his gaze, shoving his hands in his front jean pockets as he looked at the floor. He focused on a dent in the blue and white linoleum that made up the laundry room floor and kicked at it with the tip of his boot.
“So, hey, I was thinking . . . maybe we could hang out some time.”
A smile pulled at her mouth. What was this change of conversation direction about?
“Hang out?”
“Yeah. Like,” he shrugged one shoulder, looked briefly at the ceiling then back at her. “go out sometime.”
Molly’s eyebrows furrowed. Was he trying to boost her self-esteem by inviting her to go out with him and Jason and their friends? She wasn’t sure she would enjoy hanging out with sweaty men at some sports bar in the middle of nowhere.
“Um . . . I’m not sure I’d fit in with you and Jason and your friends.”
Alex laughed softly. “I wasn’t talking about with Jason or our friends.” He brought his gaze back to hers, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “I was talking about just you and me.”
Molly swallowed hard. Her head felt light and her hands had gone numb.
Or had they? Were they still there? She wasn’t sure so she slid them into the back pockets of her jeans to see if she could still feel the denim against her skin. She could, but only barely.
Was he trying to make fun of her? She wasn’t sure she could handle it if he was.
He folded his arms across this chest, and crossed one leg over the other casually. She fought hard to keep her eyes from wandering across his masculine forearms and biceps, the edges of the short sleeves of his plaid, blue checkered button-up shirt pulled tight across his upper arms.
“Okay. Listen, Alex, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better about myself by offering to take me out but —”
“I’m not trying to make you feel better about yourself. I really want to take you out. Like,” he cleared his throat. “on a date.”
Molly laughed nervously. “Let’s be serious here. I’m not exactly your type.”
“What do you mean you’re not my type?”
The question startled her. “Well. . . Uh… because all the women you’ve dated since you’ve been here have been cute, skinny blondes and, I mean, look at me.”
She gestured at her wide hips and full chest.
His eyes traveled the length of her and back to her face. “Yeah? I’m looking.”
Her face flushed at the grin tilting his mouth upward and the way his gaze slid over her. She struggled with how to respond.
“Well, I’m. . . I’m . . you know what I am.”
He tipped his head slightly, his eyebrows furrowed.
“No. I don’t know what you are, Molly.”
She scoffed. “I’m fat, Alex.” She slapped the side of her thigh with her hand and laughed. “F-A-T. Fat.”
He bit his lower lip, amused by her thigh slapping. He unfolded his arms, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. His eyes were moving over her again and heat rushed through her.
“You’re not fat, Molly.”
“Alex, I’m fat. It’s okay. I know I am. It’s not that I’m proud of it, but it’s just the way it is right now. I – I’ve been working on it so maybe someday I won’t be as —”
Alex shook his head and tightened his jaw, his smile fading into a more serious expression. “Fine, if you want to say you’re fat go ahead, but you’re not fat to me and you can’t tell me who I’m interested in.”
He pushed himself off the door frame and moved toward Molly. “I know who I’m interested in.”
He knew it was now or never to show her what she meant to him and he was tired of not taking risks.
Molly’s muscles tensed as she stepped back and stumbled against the washer. What was Alex doing? He wasn’t stopping and the expression on his face was serious and determined. His eyes were on her mouth and she felt a rush of butterflies move from her stomach throughout the rest of her body. He was so close now she could see those familiar flecks of green in his deep blue eyes.
“Alex.” Her voice faded to a whisper as she tried to make sense of his movements, of his hand cupping her cheek now. “What are you doing?”
Alex knew what he was doing but he was terrified. His eyes focused on her mouth and he closed the gap between them more, moving his body even closer to hers. He knew kissing her was the only way to really show her how he felt.
“Molly. . .” His voice was deeper and huskier than she’d ever heard it before.
He swallowed hard and said her name again. How good it felt to say her name, let it slide off his tongue so easily, each syllable like a sweet melody.
Molly had been telling herself for more than a year that she’d think about how she felt about Alex later, but later was here.
Right here.
Right now.
Alex was standing less than two inches from her now and the heat coming off of him was intoxicating. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to calm herself. She opened them again as she felt his hand against her cheek. The palm of his thumb traced her mouth, first her upper lip, then her lower. She watched as his gaze followed the path his thumb was making. He drew in a slow breath and let it out again just as slow. Her heart pounded loud in her ears, a soft repeated thud that was increasing its rhythm second by second.
Was this really happening? Was Alex Stone about to kiss her and make it absolutely clear that he wanted to be more than friends?
The crunch of gravel under car tires startled her and she could tell by the look on Alex’s face it had startled him too. It took a moment for Molly to connect her brain to her mouth.
“M-my mom.”
Alex stepped back from her quickly and glanced at the back door.
The car door slammed, and he began to wish Annie Tanner wasn’t such an efficient grocery shopper.
“I’ll find you later,” he whispered before he closed the door behind him. “We need to talk.”
She nodded slowly, stunned, and unsure what to think about what had almost happened.
She was still looking at the door, dumfounded, when her mom opened the front door carrying three bags of groceries.
“Hey, sweetie. What are you doing? Your laundry? Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I could have done that later today when I wash your dad’s.” Annie placed the bags on the kitchen counter and sat her purse next to them. “I found that yogurt you like. And that cereal your dad likes.” Annie paused by the counter and looked at her daughter who was now standing in the kitchen by the table, dazed.
“Are you okay honey?”
Molly looked at her mother, doing her best not to look as panicked as she felt. “Yeah. Why?”
Annie’s eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You look flushed.”
Molly shrugged. “I guess I just got overheated doing the laundry.”
“Maybe you need a cool shower.”
“You know what? I think you might be right. I’m going to head up and do that now.”
Molly rushed toward the stairs before her mom could ask her anymore questions.
Annie stared after her daughter, one hand on her hip, her eyebrows once again furrowed. “Well, I meant after you helped me with the groceries.”
I started to post Chapter 21 last night to schedule for this morning and then realized I hadn’t actually finished Chapter 21. Oops. So I finished it this morning. I’d written most of it in my head already anyhow, which is probably why I thought I had finished it.
Anyhow, as regular readers know, my fiction Thursday and Fridays are usually novellas or novels in progress, which means there will be changes before I publish it in the future as an ebook or paperback. One change I have a feeling is going to come when I rework The Farmer’s Daughter is moving Jason and Ellie’s story into a separate novella in between The Farmer’s Daughter, book one of the Spencer Chronicles, and The Librarian, book two of the Spence Chronicles. That novella will most likely be called . . . The Farmer’s Son because I am oh so original. *wink*
With that being said, I don’t want to leave my blog readers hanging so I’ll still try to keep Jason and Ellie’s story in the chapters I share here. My thought is that if I break this off into a novella in the future, I can flush out Jason and Ellie’s characters more without bogging down Alex and Molly and Franny’s story in this book.
Sometimes I think it’s silly I share these books as I write them, but then I think “well, life is short. Just have fun with it.” Plus I like the feedback from my few readers because it helps me decide and craft the remainder of the story (and sometimes it helps me decide to chop off chapters all together).
Thanks for sticking around this long (if you did). I’ll be quiet now and get on with the story.
Chapter 21
“How much trouble is the farm in, Robert?”
Franny’s question sent Robert’s eyes up to the ceiling in frustration. He was grateful his back was to his mother the same way it had been when his sister had cornered him a few weeks ago. How did the Tanner women have such a sixth sense about the bad news of life? He poured himself a cup of coffee and carried it with his mother’s tea to her kitchen table.
“Hannah been talking to you?”
Franny sipped the tea, reached across the table and spooned a heaping spoonful into her cup. “She’s been hinting, but not exactly talking. You know how she is.”
Robert definitely knew how she was. He sat on the chair across from his mother and sipped his coffee once, twice, three times before he spoke. He sat the cup down, cupping his hands around it, looking at it instead of his mother.
“We’re in a tough spot, Mom.”
“We’ve been in tough spots before.”
“This may be the toughest. I don’t know how much longer we can hang on, to be honest.”
Franny stirred a spoonful of honey into her tea and sipped it, waiting for her son to continue. She knew he would. He always did. Like Ned, he was thoughtful, contemplating the words before he said them.
“What I don’t get is why I can’t keep this farm running the same way Dad did.” Robert looked up at his Mom. “I took out a loan. Dad would never have done that. He only spent what he had or what he saved up for.”
When Robert fell into silence again, looking out the kitchen window into the field across the road, the same field his father had farmed for years and his father before him, Franny decided she needed to offer her son the encouragement she’d been unable to offer since she’d lost Ned. She had been a wife, yes, but she was still a mother and she needed to start acting like one, even if her children were fully grown.
“This isn’t the same farm your dad had, Robert. You’ve added more property, other farmers and farmland. You and your dad and brother did the right thing trying to diversify the business. How were you to know that milk prices would fall even further than they did in 1985? None of this is your fault. It’s circumstances out of your control.”
“No, your dad never took loans out. But milk prices were better back then. Other expenses were lower. He could manage to save up. You don’t have that luxury anymore.” Franny leaned over and laid her hand on Robert’s. “You’re doing the best you can, son. I know that. Farming runs in your blood. You’ll figure this out.”
Robert’s eyes stung with tears and he looked away quickly.
His voice broke when he spoke. “Thank you, Mom.”
“Don’t be afraid to cry, Robert. There’s nothing wrong with crying.”
Robert nodded but he still couldn’t look at her. If he saw her eyes, the compassionate eyes of the woman who raised him and his sister and brother, who held the family and the farm together for his while life and who had suffered so much over the last few years, he might completely break down and he wasn’t about to do that. Instead he laid his hand over hers, swallowed hard, focused his attention on the field and nodded again.
“You’re a good boy, Robert.”
“Thank you, Mama,” he managed finally through the tears.
***
Alex’s head was pounding. His mouth was dry. He felt like his eyes had been glued shut.
Squinting against the sunlight pouring in from his bedroom window he recognized the feeling, which he hadn’t had in years.
He definitely had a hangover.
“Alex! You ever getting up?”
Jason’s voice outside his bedroom door was loud.
Too loud.
“I’ve already been to the barn and back.”
“Yeah. Comin’. Just . . .” Alex rubbed his hands across his face and forced himself to sit up. The pain in his head throbbed now, a steady pulse of pain that felt as if his brain would push out through his forehead. “Yeah. Be right down.”
Jason banged cupboard doors and loudly clanked spoons into bowls when he reached the kitchen. Alex winced against the noise, each clank another pain shooting through his head.
“Cereal?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Jason leaned back against the counter and watched his friend sleepily pour cereal from the box to the bowl. Alex’s hair was pushed up in several different directions, dark circles creased the skin under his eyes, and he was moving slower than a zombie in a cheap b-movie.
“You go out last night?”
Alex poured milk on his cereal without looking up. “Yeah.”
“Daniel Stanton said you left the bar last night with Jessie Landry hanging all over you.”
“If Daniel Stanton already told you I was at the bar, then why did you ask if I went out?”
Jason shrugged, folding his massive arms across his massive chest. Alex wasn’t always pleased at how massive his friend was, especially when he wasn’t sure where a conversation was going and how his massive friend might choose to end it.
“So, you ended up back up here?”
Alex kept his eyes on the cereal. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t see her this morning when I got up.”
“Yeah. I mean, no. I – sent her home. Or rather, she left. In a bit of a huff really.”
“So, you didn’t sleep with her?”
Alex shook his head, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
Jason leaned back, reaching for his coffee cup on the counter and sipping from it. “Really? Well, that’s new. What happened?”
Alex glared, milk dripping down his chin.
“What does that mean, Jase? You act like I’m some man-whore or something. It’s not like I’m bedding girls every night.”
Jason laughed and shook his head. “Not every night, no.”
“Actually, if you’ll remember, I haven’t brought a girl back here in almost two years. Maybe even longer.”
“So, you’re not taking them back to our place, maybe you’re —”
“I’m not,” Alex snapped, shoving the last of the cereal into his mouth and gulping the remaining milk down.
“Okay. Okay.” Jason looked quizzically at Alex, folding his arms across his chest again. One leg was casually crossed of the other one. “What’s up with you anyhow? You’re touchy this morning.”
Alex wiped the milk off his chin with the back of his hand.
“I’m just not the jerk you act like I am,” he grumbled, walking toward the backstairs that led to the upstairs bathroom. “I’m going to get a shower and head up to the farm to help your dad.”
Standing in the shower, the hot water kicking up steam around him and pouring over his bare skin, Alex cursed under his breath, knowing his best friend knew better than anyone what a pig he’d been much of his life; how he’d distracted himself from the hard moments in his life with the company of a cold beer or a warm, sexually aroused woman more times than he cared to admit.
He leaned his hands against the wall of the shower and let the water pour over his head and back, wishing the hot streams making paths across his body could wash away the shame the same way it was washing away the sweat from the night before.
After drying off and pulling on his usual faded blue jeans and a t-shirt he felt more alert and moved quickly downstairs, guzzling a glass of orange juice before reaching for his keys.
Jason was still in the driveway when he walked outside, checking under the hood of his truck.
Alex stood by the truck, sliding his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He cleared his throat. “Hey, sorry I was so sharp earlier.”
Jason looked up from where he had leaned over the truck with a wrench and shook his head slightly. “Actually, I’m sorry I harassed you about your night out. It’s none of my business.”
The sun was brighter than Alex had realized when he first stepped outside. He winched and reached in his front shirt pocket for his sunglasses, sliding them on. “Everything go okay with Ellie last night?”
Jason sighed, which was a weird sound coming from such a masculine figure. “Yeah. Sort of.” He glanced at Alex while he loosened a bolt on the engine. “She thinks I proposed.”
Alex lifted an eyebrow. “Thinks you proposed? Um, I might need a little more of an explanation on this one. Usually a guy proposes or he doens’t.”
“Well, I was going to propose but I needed to talk to her about something first and then she brought it up and then she just thought . . . you know what? It’s too confusing to explain.”
“So, you’re engaged. That’s great. Why don’t you look happier? Don’t men usually look happier when they get engaged?”
Jason used a rag to wipe grease off his hands as talked. “It is. I guess. It’s just . . .”
“You’re nervous about getting married?”
“A little but it’s not that. It’s just, I’ve never told Ellie about what happened in college.”
Alex spoke through a yawn, his expression clueless. “What happened in college?”
Jason starred at him for a few moments with first furrowed eyebrows then raised ones. Alex continued to look blank for a full minute then his eyes widened in realization. “Wait. You mean what happened with Emily Barker? You never told Ellie about that?”
Jason shook his head and tossed the dirty rag into the front seat of his truck. “I was really embarrassed, man. That experience was a low point for me and it wasn’t even —ugh, just never mind. The point is that I never told Ellie because I was embarrassed and because I didn’t know how she would feel about it.”
“But you guys weren’t even dating then.”
“I know but it still was wrong, Alex. That’s not how I wanted my first time to be. I wanted it to be with someone I loved. Someone I planned to spend my whole life with. And yeah, I know it sounds lame, but I wanted it to be with someone I was married to.”
Alex shrugged one shoulder and smiled. “Yeah, it sounds a little lame, but it also sounds really sweet and romantic.” He made a face and shuddered. “Yuck. Dude, I think you’re rubbing off on me with all your sentimental crud. Next Thing I know we’ll be watching chick flicks together.”
“Sleepless in Seattle isn’t bad.”
Alex held up his hands. “Jase, I am not watching chick flicks with you. Calm down.”
He grinned and then realized even grinning made his head hurt. He let the grin fade, partially because of the headache and partially because Jason was leaning back against the front of the truck now, one arm propped up on the metal frame, looking at the ground, thinking.
“Jason, you know Ellie loves you. She’s going to understand, okay? Just talk to her.”
Jason nodded, but didn’t look up from the dirt. “Yeah, I hope she does.” He lifted his gaze to look at Alex, his eyes glistening. “Because if she doesn’t . . .” He shook his head, swallowed hard and looked out at the fields across from the house. “I don’t know if I’m going to make it without her.”
A warning to readers this week: don’t panic during some of this and remember I don’t write sex scenes. Just keep going. It’s all going to be okay.
That’s all I will say for this week.
To catch up with the rest of the story click HERE. To catch up on Quarantined (a novella in progress) click HERE.
Jason’s heart was racing, his palms damp with sweat. What had he been thinking? Was he really going to do this tonight? Was he really going to tell Ellie about his past and let the chips fall where they may?
He took a deep breath and tightened his hands on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Yes, he was. He was doing this because he needed the burden off his shoulders, and he needed to know how Ellie would feel about him after he told her. He couldn’t keep waiting, torturing himself with worry of what might be.
He and Ellie had gone to school together since junior high, but it wasn’t until his junior year he really noticed her, or she had noticed him, or he guess he would say they noticed each other. It was in history class and Mr. Prawly and placed them in a group together to work on a project. Before that they’d seen each other at 4H meetings or when Robert took Jason with him to pick up equipment he borrowed from Ellie’s dad Jerry. Late one night after working on their project about Pennsylvanian history they found themselves laughing about their shared interest in old movies.
“Cary Grant is the epitome of old fashioned suave and charm,” she’d said, pretending to swoon, her hand against her forehead two nights later when they watched North by Northwest together at his parents.
He grinned, a teasing glint in his eye. “I agree, but I’m the epitome of modern suave and charm, right?”
She’d tipped her head back and laughed and he wasn’t sure if she was enjoying his humor or mocking him.
“Ginger Rogers was a very underrated actress,” he announced after they watched Vivacious Lady at her parents’ house.
“I agree,” she had said and smiled.
Wow. That smile. That smile that was for him and only him. It took his breath away.
That soft, long black hair against that pale skin, those large dark eyes and her sweet round face all together with that smile was a knockout combination.
He’d taken her to the movies twice, dinner once, lunch three times and attended youth group with her every Wednesday for two months before he’d finally worked up the courage to kiss her. And now, here he was working up the courage to ask her to marry him.
Those two years in college when he’d been without her, when they had decided to take a break from dating and see “how things developed” as she had said, were the loneliest and most confusing two years of his life. He’d felt like a ship out at sea without a compass. Returning home from college, to the farm and to her had anchored him again. He couldn’t even imagine losing that anchor again.
God, please don’t let me lose her.
He caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see her stepping off the front porch, down the steps, watching him as she walked, her smile broad. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes followed the length of her body as she walked, and he bit his lower lip. Even after all these years she still took his breath away. She was so beautiful.
“I can’t do this, God,” he whispered as she reached the truck and opened the door.
“Hey,” she said after she slid into the truck seat and had slid her arms around his neck. Her mouth was on his before he could ask God for strength for later when he confessed to her about his past.
His mind was clouded by her kiss and her presence. She smelled of lilac and vanilla scented shampoo. The skin along her neck was soft and smooth as he kissed it and then moved his mouth up along her jawline, her ear and back to her mouth.
“We should probably head out to the restaurant,” she said breathlessly a few moments later. She tipped her head to one side, her hand against his chest. “Before we go too far.”
Jason cleared his throat and nodded. “Right. Of course.”
He grinned as he turned back to the steering wheel and she hooked her seatbelt. “But it wasn’t as if things would get too far with us parked outside your parent’s house. Not before your dad shot me.”
Ellie laughed. “Jason, Daddy wouldn’t shoot you.”
“I beg to differ.”
Ellie shook her head. “He loves you. You know that.”
“But he wouldn’t love me making out with you in my truck.”
“No, probably not,” Ellie said with a wink. “Unless we were married, of course.”
Jason swallowed hard. Married. There it was. The word. The one word hovering in his mind 24/7, waking him up at night, giving him near panic attacks daily.
“Right,” he said nervously, pushing his foot on the accelerator slightly, willing his truck to move them faster toward the restaurant where they could talk about the food, the weather, the farm, anything but marriage.
The drove in silence for a few moments, farmland and trees and open fields passing them by.
“Jason?”
Hurry up, truck.
“Yeah?”
“Are you ever going to ask me to marry you?”
Jason’s hand jerked on the steering wheel as he nearly jumped out of his seat from shock. The truck swerved over the center line and then back again into the right lane. Ellie gasped and clutched her hand around Jason’s upper bicep as he regained control of the truck.
She was breathless when she spoke. “Oh gosh. Sorry. I just — I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that, but I knew if I didn’t say something now, I would lose my courage.”
Jason slowed the truck down and pulled off into an empty parking lot in front of an abandoned convenience store. He slid the gear into park and turned to look at Ellie.
“What would make you ask that right now?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
Was she reading his mind? They’d been together so long he wouldn’t be surprised.
“I — I don’t know. I just —” Tears rimmed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Jason. Are you angry?”
Jason shook his head. “No. Not at all. I’m sorry.” He reached over and took her hand in his. The frightened expression on her face sent stabbing guilt shuddering through him. He let go of her hand and cupped his palm against her face.
“It’s not that at all. It’s just that I was actually going to talk to you about that tonight and I was surprised that it was on your mind too.”
A tear slipped down Ellie’s cheek and his heart ached even more. He swiped at it with the palm of his thumb.
“Of course, it is on my mind, Jason. I’ve wanted to marry you since high school. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to have your children. But sometimes I feel like you don’t want any of that at all.”
“No, El, that’s not true. I do want that. All of it.”
“Then why aren’t you asking me to marry you?”
“I — well, I was going to —”
Ellie’s eyes grew wide and her eyebrows shot up. “Oh! Were you going to ask me tonight and I totally ruined your plans?”
“Well, I —”
“Oh, Jason! I’m so sorry! I ruined your plan.”
“No, that’s okay. It’s just —”
Her mouth was on his again before he could explain. The expression of sheer delight on her face when she pulled back, her arms still around his neck, sent warmth bursting through his chest.
“You know I don’t need a big fancy proposal. All I want is you and of course I’d say ‘yes’ no matter how you asked.”
She was kissing him again and he was forgetting what he’d been going to say. Her body was so warm and solid against his and her lips so soft. Her hands were in his hair as they kissed and he couldn’t focus. Slowly his thoughts began to clear and that’s when the panic set in.
Wait a minute. Did she think he had just proposed and she was saying yes?
She peppered his cheek and neck with kisses. “Oh, Jason! I’m so excited! I’ve been waiting for this moment for years!”
Yes, she did think he’d just proposed, and she was saying ‘yes’.
“I know. I have been too, but I —”
She cut his sentence short again. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry I ruined the surprise.”
“No, it’s okay, I mean — It’s just that I —”
Her large brown eyes were watching him with hopeful expectation, with joy, with complete and utter adoration. There was no way he could tell her about his past now; ruin her night completely.
“I don’t have a ring,” he blurted.
She tipped her head back and laughed. “I don’t care about a ring, silly! We can worry about that later, or not at all. You know I don’t care about stuff like that.”
“But, it’s a symbol and it’s important, El. I should get you a ring.”
Ellie kissed him gently and shook her head. “Later. I just want us to enjoy this moment together for now.”
Jason swallowed hard. He wanted to enjoy the moment too, but he knew he couldn’t keep his secret forever and Ellie needed to know sooner rather than later. He wouldn’t tell her tonight, though. He’d already made his mind up about that. They would go to dinner, celebrate their engagement and then later, another day, he’d tell her what she needed to know and let her make up her own mind about whether she still wanted to spend the rest of her life with him or not.
***
The front door banged open hard against the wall and Alex stumbled inside with a giggling Jessie Landry pressed up against him. He was glad Jason was out for the night with Ellie.
Fumbling for the lights he slid an arm around Jessie and pulled her slender, warm body against his hip, leading her into the living room.
I’m going to forget about Molly Tanner once and for all, he thought, turning to kiss Jessie hard on the mouth, breathing in the smell of alcohol and cigarettes she’d brought with her from the bar.
Jessie was breathing heavy in his ear as his mouth found her neck and shoulder. “Oh, Alex. That feels so good.”
She pulled back, her mouth curled up in a seductive smile, one finger making a trail down his chest as she hooked a finger from her other hand in his belt loop and pulled him toward the couch. He grinned as she roughly shoved him down on the cushions and straddled him, the tiny mini skirt she was wearing pulling up around her slender, tanned thighs. She lifted the small halter top she’d been wearing over her head and dropped it on the floor, revealing a tiny pink flowered bra.
His hands instinctively slid up her back as she kissed him hard. Her hands were in his hair, clutching tight as they kissed, when it hit him. He wasn’t in college anymore. He had just turned 30. Was he really doing this? He didn’t know Jessie at all beyond flirtatious comments at the bar and now he was groping her on his couch? Suddenly Alex saw Molly in his mind’s eye, her sweet smile, the sun hitting her hair, the way she laughed when he created voices for the cows while they were being milked.
Jessie’s mouth moved to his earlobe and then his neck. Any other time his hands would have been sliding up her back to unhook her bra but in that moment all he could think of was how more than anything he wanted something real, something pure, a relationship not built only on physical attraction and he wanted it with Molly.
When Jessie moved her hips against him and moaned his name in his ear, he pictured Molly that morning when she’d left for her Bible study, her green eyes bright as she told him she’d see him later in the barn. Maybe she felt something for him too but was too afraid to admit it. Maybe if he told her how he felt, he’d have a chance to . . . To what? Corrupt her the way he’d corrupted so many others, even himself?
He willed the image of Molly away and clutched at Jessie’s hair, kissing her harder, sliding his hands up her back, his fingers on the hooks of her bra. He flipped her fast onto her back on the couch and she gasped and then laughed as he stood over her, pulling his shirt over his head. She reached up and trailed her hand down his bare chest.
“Get down here, sexy, and show me what farm boys are good at besides milking cows,” she said, her voice thick with desire.
She giggled as he lowered himself and kissed her throat. He should have been excited, but instead he felt a cold chill rush through him. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want another cheap, one night stand. He wanted something real. He paused for a moment over her before sitting back on the couch.
He rubbed both hands over his face. “I can’t do this.”
Jessie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she leaned up on her elbows, still laying on her back. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry Jessie but I can’t do this. . .to. . . with you.”
Jessie sat up straighter on the couch, her eyebrows dipping lower as anger began to replace confusion. “Why not? Did I do something wrong? Are you having,” her gaze drifted down his torso to his unzipped jeans. “some kind of issue?”
Alex stood from the couch, zipping up the zipper Jessie had been lowering as she kissed him.
“No. I’m fine. You’re fine. Very fine. It’s just . . .Listen, it’s not you, it’s —-”
Jessie scoffed. “Oh my gosh! Are you giving me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech?! Me? You are really giving me that speech?! Are you serious right now?”
She jumped from the couch, snatching her shirt off the floor and pulling it over her head to cover the pink bra with the white flowers.
“You have some nerve Alex Stone! Why did you bring me all the way out here in the middle of,” she flung her hands in the air. “Nowhereville if you just wanted to toy with me?”
She pulled her jacket on, still yelling. “You are such a jerk!”
“Jessie, wait . . .”
“For what? For you to give me the ‘you’re a nice girl, but,’ speech? No, thank you. I’m out of here!”
The crash of the slamming door reverberated in his head, already aching from the alcohol he’d consumed earlier in the evening.
But it is me, Alex thought as he watched Jessie’s car tear down the dirt road away from his house, dust billowing around it. It is me and it’s Molly Tanner.
He punched the wall by the window hard. Blast that Molly Tanner and the way she’d worked herself into his mind. She’d ruined him for anything fun and spontaneous because all he could think of was his developing desire for something real, something special, and a relationship deeper than a one-night stand.
He cursed under his breath and snatched his shirt off the floor, sliding it on. What was he even thinking? He’d just brought a woman home from the bar with every intention of having sex with her and now he was actually considering taking his friendship with Molly to a deeper level. He had to be disillusioned at best, crazy at worst.
I’m not good enough for her, he thought, looking out the window toward the Tanner farm. God, if you’re real, keep me from hurting Molly. Don’t let me show her my feelings and hurt her somehow. I can admire her from afar for the rest of my life if I have to.
Alex knew just being near Molly would make him happier than meaningless acts with women he barely knew.
Still, he’d been pushing these feelings down for more than three years now. He didn’t know if he could hold his feelings back much longer. He was cracking and he knew it.
He had to know if Molly could or did feel the same for him. He had to know if her lips tasted as sweet as they looked. Shaking his head he knew it was wrong to think of her mouth, to think of her in a physical way like he had other women, but he hadn’t allowed himself to see her that way when they had first met five years ago when she was just his best friend’s little sister. The physical attraction to Molly had come gradually for Alex; slowly over the years. He knew he’d fallen in love with something deeper in Molly before he fell in love with her looks.
Alex felt like a cheesy fool thinking it, but he’d been attracted to her spirit before he had ever been attracted to her body. Something about her was different than any other woman he’d met and he’d wanted to know what it was as soon as he saw it. He wanted to know what she was thinking, how she felt about subjects he had never really even thought about before he’d come to the Tanner farm.
When they talked in the barn in the mornings and evenings he saw the world through her eyes and it was brighter, more hopeful and more beautiful than it had ever been through his own.
He felt like a dirty farm boy daring to touch the pristine skin of the fair maiden, even on the days her hands were covered in the same mud and manure his were.
He walked upstairs to the bathroom, tugging on the pull string, a feature that made it even more obvious Jason’s grandparents had never remodeled the farmhouse that had originally been built in the early 1920s.
He turned the water on in the sink full blast and splashed cold water on his face, rubbing it into his hair, growling in frustration.
Some days his biggest fear was that Molly would love him back, or that she already loved him, and that he would somehow ruin her with his imperfections, destroy the beautiful innocence and tenderness he saw in her.
But he knew he’d have to take the risk someday, let her know how he felt about her, end the torture he was putting himself through. Maybe telling her how he felt wouldn’t be the worst thing. Maybe she would corrupt him — in a good way.
Chapter 18 of The Farmer’s Daughter? Really? It seems so strange to be this far already in some ways, but in other ways it isn’t because I actually started this story sometime last year and have been slowly working on it since I even wrote my other books.
I can already see some changes and additions I want to make, but so far I’m liking the direction of the story. I have a feeling I’ll be tweaking a lot before all is said and done, but for now – brace yourselves, one of our characters may get themselves in some trouble in the next couple of chapters.
Molly slid a pile of books across the library desk at Ginny, unsure of when she’d have time to read the books but knowing she needed to do something to distract her from life, or her lack of one, these days.
Ginny glanced at the title of the book on the top of the pile.
How To Get Out of A Rut in Your Life.
She cleared her throat, sliding it into the library bag and reaching for another book.
How To Spice Up Your Life.
And then, Does He Like You? Ten Ways to Tell If He’s Totally Into You.
Ginny raised one eyebrow and looked up at Molly who was chewing on her fingernails.
“So, Molly, have you figured out how you were feeling a few weeks ago about sort of being stuck in life?”
Molly shrugged. “Not really. Still not sure about things and still feel like my life is somewhat. . . Hmmmm..I’m not sure what to call it.”
Ginny knew what to call it.
“Stagnant,” she said bluntly.
“Yes. That’s it. Stagnant. Like dirty water.”
Ginny laughed softly, tapping the top of her pencil on top of the desk, leaning against her hand. “Trust me. I get it.”
Molly studied Ginny’s expression, the sadness there, and wondered what was making Ginny feel stagnant. She had a good job, was popular in the community, had three lovely, now grown children, and was married to the most successful real estate agent in the region.
“You?” Molly asked.
Ginny looked up at Molly, a faint smile tugging at her mouth. “Yes, Molly. Even old people feel stagnant in life sometimes.”
Molly laughed, flipping a strand of her hair off her shoulder. “Ginny. You are not old. Stop.”
Ginny shrugged. “I feel old. Much older than I actually am. Maybe we need to cheer both of us up. I’m not an expert on how to do that, unfortunately.”
“Maybe an art class?” Molly suggested, gesturing toward the flyer taped on the top of the counter. “There is one in two weeks that is entitled ‘Lessons in realistic sketching.’ The description says we will be drawing a life model.”
“Knowing my luck it will be some skinny model with a perky chest and perfect skin,” Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes.
Molly snorted a laugh. “It will be both our luck, but let’s try it anyhow.”
Ginny handed Molly her bag of books. “And maybe by getting out a little more you won’t need all these books. Except that one about finding out if he really likes you or not.”
Light pink spread along Molly’s cheeks.
“Um..just pretend you didn’t see that one.”
“You don’t need to read the book. He likes you. I already told you he was flirting.”
“Ginny . . .”
“I’m just saying.”
“I know you’re just saying, but I’m just saying hush.”
Ginny laughed as Molly walked toward the door. “Okay,” she said softly. “But he does.”
“See you Wednesday night, Ginny.”
During the drive to the farm Molly thought about the conversation she’d had with her parents, Jason and Alex earlier in the day.
“We didn’t want to tell you anything until we knew for sure what was going on,” her father had said after he told her about the financial trouble the farm was facing.
“I understand,” she said, deciding not to mention she’d already been tipped off about the situation when she’d eavesdropped on her aunt and uncle at the farm store.
Her parents had assured her and Jason that every effort was being made to keep the farm and the rest of the enterprise afloat but she still couldn’t help feel a twinge of panic and alarm at the idea her family could be standing with so many others watching their lives being auctioned away.
Sure she felt stuck in some ways, but that didn’t mean she wanted her family’s farm to go under or the families who worked with them to be left without an income. The thought that it could happen terrified her. She’d called Liz shortly after talking to her parents. Liz had seemed concerned, but distant somehow.
“Are you okay?” Molly had asked.
“Yeah, fine,” Liz said. “I was just thinking about work, but that can wait until later. What are your parents going to do?”
Molly didn’t think Liz was fine at all. She could hear the tension in her voice, but she decided she wouldn’t push for an answer for now.
“We’re going to keep doing what we’re doing but add some different items for sale at the farm store, expand what we offer and hope we have a good crop this year. We are looking at opening a café. I don’t think we have time to pull it off, though, Liz. We had a lot of rain this spring, the crops aren’t growing as fast as they should and it will take time to expand what we offer at the store. This might be it. We might lose our farm.”
“It’s not going to happen, Molly,” Liz’s tone was firm. “Something is going to work out. It has to. I can’t imagine your family without their farm.”
Molly couldn’t either and as she pulled into the driveway toward it she felt tears choking her. She pulled the truck off next to the top field, shifted it into park and gulped back a sob. She’d spent her whole life here, took her first steps outside the barn, learned to ride her bike in this driveway with her grandfather’s hand on the back of the bike until she took off. She’d even had her first kiss ever on the front porch of her house. That kiss had been with Ben, of course, and even though her feelings for him weren’t as strong as they were back then, it was still her first kiss.
Her grandfather had taught her about cows and calving and how to store grain on this farm. She had shucked corn and snapped green beans with her mother and grandmothers on this porch before her mom’s mom had moved away. She didn’t even have to close her eyes to imagine her grandfather walking out of that barn wearing a pair of dirty overalls and a pair of manure and mud caked work boots, reaching into his front shirt pocket for a piece of hard candy to hand her before he headed back to his house for the evening. Somedays it was if she could still see him there, out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned it was her dad or the wind or nothing at all.
“God, what are we going to do?” Molly asked softly. “Please, please don’t take this farm from our family. Help us, somehow. Help us figure out how to save it.”
She wiped the back of her hand across her cheeks and couldn’t help laughing slightly. Only a few weeks before she’d been lamenting her life here on the farm and now she was asking for God to save this farm, save her family’s livelihood, save the very life she thought she hadn’t wanted.
***
Alex’s phone blinked a warning of awkwardness ahead.
He held it in his hands for a few moments, staring at the ID blinking at him, his thumb hovering over the decline button. He rolled his eyes and hit the accept button instead, bracing himself.
“Well, well, look who finally answered his phone.”
“Hey, mom.”
“Hey, yourself. I guess you’ve been busy. I’ve been getting kicked to voice mail for a month or more now.”
“Service isn’t always great out in the fields.”
“Hmmm..right. The fields.”
He heard the mocking tone and chose to ignore it.
“Have you heard from your father lately?”
“Nope.”
“Me either. Thank God. How about your brother?”
“Last week.”
“Is he doing okay? He never calls me anymore and I have to chase him down too. I guess I’m not as important to him as his father is.”
Alex ignored the passive aggressiveness. “Yeah. He’s fine. Got a promotion at the office.”
He heard an exhale, knew his mom was blowing a plume of cigarette smoke out. “Well, good for him.” She inhaled and exhaled again. “So, you’re happy? On that farm in the middle of nowhere?”
He laughed softly. “Yeah, mom. I’m happy here. On this farm, in the middle of nowhere.”
“And Jason is good?”
“Yes, Mom. He’s good.”
Jason grinned and pointed his thumbs toward his chest. “Is she talking about me?” he whispered.
Alex nodded and rolled his eyes.
“Did he ever ask that nice girl he’s been dating forever to marry him?”
Alex laughed out loud, looking at Jason.
“No, Mom, he hasn’t asked Ellie to marry him yet.”
Jason smirked, shaking his head. He stood and leaned close to the phone. “You too, Cecily? Thanks a lot.”
Alex wasn’t used to hearing his mom laugh, especially now that her laugh was hoarse from her years of smoking. The sound was slightly jarring to him. “You just tell that boy to do the right thing and propose,” she said.
“She says just propose already,” Alex told Jason as Jason walked toward the door.
He waved his hand at Alex. “Yeah, yeah. See you at the barn later.”
Alex turned his attention back to his mom. “So, what’s up, Mom?”
“Nothing is up. Can’t a mother just call her son?”
“Sure, she can, but you don’t usually do it unless something is going on.”
“It’s just — well,” his mother let out a heavy sigh, an exhale that probably include more smoke. “It’s your father.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “What about him?”
“I don’t think he’s doing well, health wise.”
“Why do you think that?”
“It’s just that your brother hinted that something was going on awhile back. He said he’d had some appointments with a doctor. He said it wasn’t anything to worry about, but I don’t know. I felt like he wasn’t being honest about what’s really going on.”
Alex shrugged. “Like I said before, I just talked to him and he didn’t say anything to me about Dad’s health. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“You know I don’t care much about your father’s health for my own sake, Alex, but maybe you should call him, talk to him.”
Cecily Madigan Burke wasn’t sounding like herself and now Alex was wondering is something was wrong with her health.
“Mom, compassion toward Dad really isn’t like you. Are you okay?”
Cecily sighed again. “Alex, I just said I’m not worried about him for my own sake. I’m not even worried about him for his own sake, but I don’t want something to happen to him before you’ve talked to him and worked some things out. I don’t want you to carry that anger for him for the rest of your life. It’s not healthy. I’ve had to let a lot of it go or I’d have even more wrinkles than I do now. My Yoga instructor led me through this amazing meditation of forgiveness last week. Maybe you could do something like —”
“I think we’re rushing things a bit here,” Alex interrupted. “We don’t even know there is anything wrong with his health, okay? And you’re already acting like he is dying. Besides, Dad is the one who should be contacting me and, as you have always said, act like a real father for once. I’m not going to chase someone who obviously doesn’t care whether I live or die.”
“Alex, I don’t think it’s true that he doesn’t care, he’s just too selfish to show it.”
“He’s focused on himself, Mom. Always has been and always has. Listen, I’ll ask Sam about his health, but I think you’re reading too much into it. He’s probably just getting a vasectomy to make sure he doesn’t father anymore children in his old age.”
His mom laughed softly at the suggestion and then they said their goodbyes, with Alex agreeing he’d try to keep in touch more and insisting he was still happy on the farm. When he slid his finger over the end call button his phone, though, he knew he was only half telling the truth. He did love working on the farm, but right now he was struggling because of what he’d witnessed between Molly and Ben.
He pulled a soda out of the fridge and cracked it open, pushing the refrigerator door closed hard behind him. He hadn’t been able to get the image of Molly and Ben together out of his mind for a week now. He’d been quiet in the barn, talking when talked to but not offering comments or jokes like he usually did. He’d been inside his head too much to feel relaxed enough to act like nothing had changed since he’d seen Molly laughing and lightly touching Ben’s arm outside the church that day.
He sat on the porch railing, his legs hanging down, the soda can cupped between his hands, glad Jason was still down at the farm bringing the cows into the barn for the night.
Sleep had been hard to come by for the last week. When he closed his eyes, he pictured Molly and Ben together, Ben’s arms around Molly, leaning down to kiss her, her leaning up to kiss him back. No, he hadn’t seen that actually happen, but in his mind it had or was going to.
He was tired of thinking about it, tired of knowing he wasn’t good enough for Molly. He needed to get out of his head, and he needed to get out of this house.
He crunched the empty soda can in his hand, jumped off the railing, and stood on the porch as he stared down the road that would lead him toward town. He had no chance with Molly. He was wasting his time imagining he did.
She was a hundred times better than him. She believed in God; he didn’t know what to believe. She was sweet and gentle; he was hard and often cynical and bitter. She’d been talking to Ben outside a church.
A church.
They’d smiled, looked happy together. Because they were, like Jason had said, “meant to be together.” A good fit.
He and Molly weren’t a good fit and it was time he accepted that.
When it came down to it, she was good, and he wasn’t.
He was restless, anxious to get away from his own rambling thoughts. He’d been avoiding the bars lately, avoiding the temptations they brought but he needed the distraction tonight, temptations or not. He reached inside the front door and snatched keys off the hanger then turned on his heel, walked briskly down the front steps and to his truck.
He ripped out of the driveway, driving fast in the direction of town and away from the thoughts that tortured him at home.
Because I’ve decided to combine Quarantined (the short story I wrote in April or May or at some point during all this craziness) and Rekindle into a novella called … er… Quarantined, I’ve decided to share parts of the novella from the beginning starting every Thursday. I’m releasing it as a self-published Novella sometime in September. And this time I’ll offer it on more sites than Amazon — just for fun.
Anyhow, some of these parts this will be a repeat for some of my regular blog readers, but some of it has also been rewritten to tie up some plot holes and to add Matt and Cassie to Liam and Maddie’s story.
Maddie Grant glared at her husband over the edge of a book as he pounded his fist against the wall by the living room window.
Liam’s voice was strained, tired. “I can’t believe I have to self-quarantine. I don’t even have symptoms. This is absolutely ridiculous.”
Maddie couldn’t agree more. “Yeah, well I’m not thrilled with it either.”
His eyes flashed with anger as he turned to face her, hands on his hips.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.”
His jaw tightened as he spoke. “Yeah, I heard you. Believe me, I don’t want to be stuck here with you as much as you don’t want to be stuck here with me.”
She lifted the book higher, blocking her view of him. “We wouldn’t be stuck here if you hadn’t gone to that stupid political rally.”
“I went to that stupid political rally because it’s part of my job, Maddie. Remember what that is? A job.”
Maddie slapped the book closed, stood, and slammed the book on top of the coffee table as hard as she could. “I have a job, Liam. I’m a writer. Or don’t you remember the checks I’ve been putting into our bank account to help pay the bills? She walked past him toward the kitchen, but stopped abruptly, looking at him through narrowed eyes. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot that you’re the only one making a difference in this world.”
He bristled at her sarcastic and bitter tone.
“Of course I’m not. Clearly your romance novels are truly” he made quote symbols with his fingers. “world changing.” He turned away from her to look out the window again. “To lazy, pathetic housewives all over the world.”
Maddie’s hands ached as she tightened them into fists at her side, knuckles white, nails digging into her palms. Red spread slowly from her chest to her forehead as she stared at his back, every muscle in her body constricting with anger.
She pointed at his back aggressively. “If it wasn’t for you, we’d be divorced by now.” She snatched her phone off the coffee table. “I’m calling my lawyer and seeing if we can sign those papers electronically.”
“We can’t sign them electronically,” he snapped. “I already asked Art. We have to go over the settlement details before we can sign, and we have to do it in person.”
Maddie stood in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, one leg cocked slightly, arms tightly folded across her chest.
“You can have it all if it means I can get rid of you.”
She turned toward the front door. “I’m going for a walk.”
“You’re not supposed to go for a walk. We’re supposed to be in the house for 14 days to make sure we don’t expose anyone else and this thing doesn’t keep spreading.” He watched her walk down the hallway toward the front door, raising his voice. “If someone in the media finds out we’re going for walks they’ll smell blood in the water and be all over it. It could look bad for Matt.”
Snatching her coat off the hanger by the door she kept her back to him. “I can go for a walk.” She’d clenched her teeth so hard an ache shot up through her jawline. “I’ll stay six feet away from anyone I see, okay? I’ll even wear a hat and sunglasses, so I don’t ruin the career of the illustrious Sen. Matthew Grant.”
She snatched a sunhat from the front closet and her sunglasses off the table by the door.
“What happened to you, Maddie?” Liam called after her. “How did you become such a bitter person?”
Maddie’s muscles tightened again at his words. There was tired of arguing with him but there was no way she was letting this one slide.
She walked quickly back to the living room, eyes flashing.
Liam knew the tongue lashing was coming and he wasn’t in the mood.
“I’m sorry? How did I become so bitter? Maybe you should be asking how you became so distant. Maybe you should be asking how you became so preoccupied with your career and your reputation and the reputation of your stupid older brother that you let your marriage fall apart. Maybe you should ask yourself what it has been like for your wife to sit here at home alone while you’re out flitting around with sexy little reporters and congressional staffers and maybe —”
Liam scoffed. “Oh please. That’s such crap. I did not let this marriage fall apart. You are the one who shredded it, Maddie. And I invited you to those events plenty of times. You just wanted to sit here with your computer and your Twitter followers. You could have cared less about what was going on in my life and my career. You haven’t cared for a long time.”
Maddie shook her head and pivoted, walking briskly from the room and flinging open the front door. She made sure to slam it hard behind her as she walked through.
Her mind raced as she took the front steps two at a time and made her way down the sidewalk past the neighbors’ houses.
Why would she want to attend events where she merely stood in the corner while Liam kissed the butts of every politician in the room? Then there was the way he laid his hands on the backs of female staffers as he talked to them, winking before he walked away.
Yes, he winked at them.
Always that stupid, fake wink that spoke volumes about his relationship with those women when Maddie wasn’t around. She couldn’t remember him ever winking at her; not in the 15 years they’d known each other and not in the ten they’d been married.
Now she was trapped in her house, her safe haven, for the next 14 days with the man who had become a stranger to her because he had kept meeting with politicians despite the warnings about the spread of a weird virus. Oh, and, of course, he had also kept meeting with the media. The stupid, pain in the butt, fear-mongering, obnoxious, and arrogant media, which for Liam mainly meant that red-headed reporter from the local NBC affiliate.
Wendy Parker.
Cute, shapely, long red curls hanging down to her small, firm bottom.
“Oh, Liam, you’re always so good at keeping me in the loop,” she cooed through the speaker on his phone one day.
Maddie had walked by his office on her way to the kitchen. She rolled her eyes at Liam’s response.
“No problem, Wendy. You’ve always been good to us. I’m glad to give you the scoop.”
The tender timbre of Liam’s voice when he spoke to Wendy was a tone Maddie hadn’t heard him use toward her in years. In truth, Liam hadn’t cared about Maddie for a very long time. He was never interested in her writing or her accomplishments. Last year he had barely looked up from his paperwork when she told him she’d surpassed her personal goal for ebook sales.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
His pen bumped against his lower lip repeatedly as he looked through a stack of papers.
“Hmm? Oh, that’s great, hon’.”
Maddie had stared at that pen on that bottom lip for several moments, remembering how those lips used to press against hers, but hadn’t for months now, not longer than a quick peck on his way out the door anyhow.
“Yeah. I thought so,” she said softly, knowing he really didn’t care.
He flipped another page of the packet, his eyebrows furrowed. “That’s a big thing for a self-published author, right?”
Annoyance hit her square in the chest. His use of the words “self-published”, struck her as patronizing.
She’d walked away, leaving him to continue his work; reviewing speeches or gathering dirt on a political opponent, she wasn’t sure which.
As she stood across from him a few moments ago shouting at her, veins popping up along the top of his forehead and along his neck, she realized just how sick of it all she was.
How sick of him she was.
Sick of all the times she’d felt rejected and pushed aside.
Sick of all the times she’d felt like she was competing with television cameras and self-serving, power-hungry politicians.
Sick of the way he’d made it clear she wasn’t a priority to him anymore.
When he’d told her he had the virus, he hadn’t even expressed concern for her. So far, he hadn’t had even a sniffle, but she knew it could get worse and she knew she could be next.
All he’d done the last two days was rant about how ridiculous all this quarantining and so-called “social distancing” was and how it would make his job more difficult since he’d have to work from home.
What about her and how it would affect her? As soon as he’d announced he’d be working from home for the next two weeks, maybe even longer, all her quiet writing time had evaporated.
She didn’t have a private office like he did since he’d never finished transforming that spare room upstairs into her writing space like he’d promised, instead filling it with political documents and books.
Not being able to meet with their lawyers to finalize the divorce papers was like the poisoned apple on the cake.
She wished she had taken her friend Andrea up on her offer to stay at her apartment during the quarantine.
“I’m single, no children, and no elderly parents to catch it if you do get it so let’s be stuck here together,” Andrea told her over the phone three days ago. “It’s supposed to be a mild virus for 80 percent of the population anyhow. Too many people are acting like it’s the end of the world. If it is, we can make milkshakes, pop some popcorn, and watch it burn. Or we can watch a couple Brad Pitt movies. Either way, you won’t have to be stuck in the house with that jerk.”
“Make it a few Hugh Jackman movies and I may take you up on that offer,” Maddie responded. “But, seriously, all my paperwork for the book is here. Plus, I’m sure Liam will be locked in his office the whole time anyhow.”
But her brooding, distasteful, self-important, soon-to-be ex-husband hadn’t locked himself in his office.
He’d been practically been crawling up the walls since his boss and older brother, U.S. Senator Matthew Grant, had ordered him into quarantine after he tested positive for the virus. He spent his days pacing the floor like a caged animal. Why didn’t he just go in his office and leave her alone already?
She needed a very long break from him, but this short walk in the cool spring air would have to do. She’d have to return to the house eventually. But for now, she intended to enjoy the warm sun on her face, the newly sprouting buds on the trees around her, and the chirps of the birds.
***
The front door crashed closed, rattling the hinges.
Liam stared after his wife, jaw tight, heart pounding from the adrenaline.
Holy heck that woman is so . . . he struggled for the word as he turned and walked toward the small flight of stairs that led to his office.
Evil.
That’s what she was, or what she had become anyhow.
Evil.
Cold.
Bitter.
Distant.
Detached.
None of those attributes were how he would have described her when they’d been dating or when they had married ten years ago, but now he couldn’t think of any other way to say it.
She was mean.
Flat out mean.
He tossed his hands in the air in frustration as he walked into the office and flopped back into the black, leather chair, behind the desk, reaching for his phone.
He didn’t want to think about her anymore.
He had other subjects he needed to focus on.
Work for one thing.
He still had a press release to work on with John for Matt’s statement to the media, updating them on restrictions that had been placed in his district to try to reduce the spread of the virus. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why so many restrictions were being placed but that wasn’t his job. His job was to make his older brother Matt look good and that’s what he was going to do.
He reached John’s voicemail.
“John, hey, it’s Liam. Give me a call when you get this. Let me know the latest. I’ve started the release and need to fill in the details. You’ve got my number.”
He swiped the end button and set the phone face down on the desk, pushing his hands back through his hair as he leaned back against the chair.
He was going stir crazy in this house. Maybe he needed to take a walk like Maddie, or a run. A run would sweat out the virus, which he wasn’t sure he even had. It would also help him focus on something other than the tension between him and his soon-to-be ex-wife.
Ex-wife.
That definitely sounded weird. But it was needed. He and Maddie hadn’t been connecting for years. It was time to move on, shake the dust off his feet, so to speak.
He’d told Maddie he had the virus, but the truth was that his first test had been inconclusive. He was waiting for a call from the doctor’s office for the results of a second test.
Telling her the test had been positive had been the only way to shut her up when she’d been harping on him about being missing the meeting with their attorneys to finalize the alimony numbers.
“I have the virus, okay?!” he’d yelled, tossing his arms out to his side. “I’m in quarantine for 14 days and the doctor said you’re stuck here with me because you’ve been exposed already. We have to put up with each other for two weeks, maybe longer, so maybe you can just get off my back for once and shut up.”
Her annoyance bubbled into pure fury. “Are you serious? You couldn’t have called me? I mean, why do I have to stay here? So, I can get it too?!” She’d tossed her notepad and pen across the room at him, missing him by two inches. “Well, that’s just great! I am so looking forward to getting sick with you.”
“I don’t even have any symptoms,” he’d shouted at her back as she walked toward her bedroom. “You probably won’t get any either so don’t worry about it. But, hey, thanks for being concerned about me.”
Even though the tests had been preliminary, there was no denying he’d been exposed to the virus. The ambassador from Italy had announced three days ago he’d tested positive. Liam had been at a meeting with the ambassador the previous week. They had shaken hands and even sat next to each other at dinner. Symptoms or not, he knew there was little chance he wouldn’t develop it. That meant he hadn’t lied to Maddie. Not really.
The doctor had told him that based on his age and overall good health, it was more likely that his case would be mild if he did develop symptoms, but they couldn’t take a chance he’d spread it to others who were more vulnerable, so he had been sent home and told to self-quarantine.
He knew it wouldn’t have looked good for Matt if he’d tested positive and kept going to work, possibly exposing others.
He’d cursed under his breath all the way home, wearing a mask on the subway, everyone around him scowling at him like he’d released a biological weapon in their midst.
He spun his phone around on top of the desk and then shoved it away from him and slapped the desk in frustration. He couldn’t just sit around waiting to get sick. He had to do something to occupy his mind until John or Matt called him back. The only communication he’d had from his brother in two days had been a quick text: Press is blowing up. Going into quarantine at home. Be in touch.
He couldn’t focus on work anyhow.
His mind raced with the events of the last few days.
Being in the same house with Maddie longer than a couple of hours wasn’t helping.
Honestly, he’d been avoiding coming home even before they’d agreed to the divorce. He wished he could avoid it now too.
He glanced through the partially open door to the spare room across the hall. He should finish clearing the room out. He would have to anyhow when he officially moved to the apartment he’d rented on the other side of the city in a couple of weeks.
He’d agreed to give Maddie the house in the divorce. He didn’t need it. It was too big for just him and he didn’t have plans on getting into another relationship anytime soon. Honestly, he was looking forward to some solitude after years of walking on eggshells around the woman he had once thought he’d spend the rest of his life with.
He pushed himself to a standing position with a groan, heading into the spare room. Boxes cluttered the floor and he started opening them, tossing papers into a trash bag he’d started filling the week before. Old speeches, stained copies of his resumes, press releases from his brother’s campaign. He tossed them all. They weren’t needed anymore.
The last box in the stack by the window was covered in a layer of dust and he blew it off as he picked it up, coughing and shaking his head. What had he been thinking? Blowing the dust all over? Like he needed dust in his lungs if he had a virus growing in there. He flipped the lid off the box and looked inside. Old bills, bank statements from six years ago, birthday cards from his family, and a stack of envelopes tied together with twine. He tossed the statements and bills in the trash bag and flipped through the birthday cards. He ended up tossing them too. He appreciated them but he couldn’t keep everything.
He frowned at the letters. What were these and why were they hidden in this box? He worked the twine loose and one fell off the top to the floor. He reached down and picked it up, looking for a name on the front. Finding none he slid out the letter he found inside.
Liam:
I won’t lie, I feel so weird writing this letter, but I haven’t been able to think about anything but you all week. I really enjoyed our night together, especially our dance alone in the courtyard outside the restaurant. I didn’t notice before that moment how blue your eyes are or that scar at the edge of your jawline. I hope we can meet again soon, and you can tell me how you got it.
Classes are almost done for the semester. I have decided to stick it out with the communications major, though I’m still not sure what I want to do with it. I’ll be spending my summer break at home, probably working at the ice cream stand again. What will you be doing this summer? I hope you’ll write me back and let me know.
Sincerely,
Maddie
P.S. Is sincerely too cold of a way to sign a letter to a person you were kissing only a couple of days ago?
P.P.S. I fall asleep every night thinking about that kiss.
Liam slid the letter back into the envelope and shook his head. Those words had been written a lifetime ago. When was the last time Maddie had thought of him in that way? He didn’t even know, but he knew it had been a long time since he’d thought of her that way. He stared at the envelope, remembering that night in the courtyard, his arms around her waist as they swayed, her honey-brown hair cascading down her back, the way she’d laid her head against his shoulder and he’d breathed in the citrus smell of her shampoo.
The rest of the world faded away and it was as if they were the only people in the courtyard, even though a few other people were also dancing to the impromptu concert a couple of street performers were putting on. Her skin was so soft, her lips even softer when he’d touched her under her chin, and she’d looked up at him and he’d leaned down to kiss her.
He’d wanted that kiss to last forever. It had only ended because the sky had abruptly opened up and sent them running to his car, laughing and soaked when they’d climbed inside. They’d resumed the kiss for several passionate moments, steaming up the windows, and then he’d driven her back to her dorm room, his body aching to hold her again as he watched her walk inside.
He sat on the floor by the window, crumpling the letter in his hand and tossing it across the room.
He opened another box.
Photo albums.
No way.
He refused to look at old photos and let any more memories twist his already jumbled thoughts. That’s all they were — memories of what used to be, not the reality of what was now. The people in these photos were ghosts. They were ghosts of who he and Maddie used to be. They weren’t who they had become, who they were now; two people who had once loved each other, but no longer did.
He snatched up one of the albums and started to toss it toward the garbage bag. It wasn’t like Maddie would miss them. She never even came into this room. There had been a thick layer of dust on this box just like the one with the letters.
A photo slid out of the album as he started to toss it and it skidded across the floor, face up. He glanced at it as he reached down to pick it up. A smiling Maddie on the beach, her hair flowing in soft waves down her back, her head tipped back, her bare throat exposed.
The memory came against his will.
It was their first trip together.
Spring break.
Sophomore year of college.
On the beach.
Florida.
“Should I pose like this?” Maddie’s hand was on her hip, one leg pushed out slightly from the other, knee bent. She tipped her head back and laughed, the sunlight dancing across her curls. He snapped the shutter.
“Yep,” he’d said, completely under her spell. “Just like that.”
She’d laughed at him, playfully slapped her hand across his upper arm.
“You did not take that photo! I looked like such a goofball! You better delete that.”
He grinned and pulled her in for a kiss. “Nope. That one is my favorite so far. I’ll keep it forever and never forget the way you smiled at me in the sun on this gorgeous spring day on this gorgeous beach.”
Her smile had faded into a more serious expression and then she’d tipped her head up and pressed her mouth to his, tugging gently at his bottom lip when she’d pulled back. He’d almost exploded with desire.
He tipped his head back, closing his eyes as he remembered that kiss. It had been an amazing, mind-blowing kiss. One for the record books he liked to tell her for years afterward.
God, she had been beautiful that weekend. He’d been head over heels, though he knew part of it had been his libido speaking. He’d wanted to spend the whole weekend with her in bed, but he knew she’d have none of it.
She hadn’t been raised that way. For her, sex was something had only after the marriage was final. He’d sighed and rolled his eyes when she’d first told him but gradually he’d accepted it, remembering his own upbringing and how his parents had urged the same for him. Maddie was worth waiting for, he’d decided, and he’d compromised with long walks and extended make-out sessions on the beach before bidding her a good night outside her own hotel room.
He’d been right. Maddie had been worth waiting for. They had spent two years dating getting to know each other beyond a physical connection and on their wedding night they’d casted aside any physical expectations, instead simply enjoying each touch, each kiss, and each rush of pleasure at just being able to be together.
Liam leaned his head forward, opening his eyes to look at the photo again. He could barely remember the last time he’d made love to Maddie. Sure, they’d had sex once or twice in the last year, but it’d been rushed, distant, cold even. It had been for their individual physical needs and nothing more. He knew that and he hated it. He clutched at his hair and flicked the photo across the room.
He hated who he had become, and he hated that it had affected his marriage more than he ever thought it would. He and Maddie had been so young when they’d married, so full of naïve idealism. They were going to change the world together. They’d buy a home in the suburbs, raise two children (a boy and a girl, of course), both have successful careers in communications, and take amazing family trips to Europe every summer. That’s what they told themselves anyhow.
But now, they were barely talking. They’d never had any children. Maddie had had two early miscarriages, and one at 25 weeks. They’d taken a break after the last miscarriage, deciding they’d talk about trying again when life settled down. That had been four years ago, and life had never settled down. Shortly before that Matt had been elected as a U.S. Senator and he had hired Liam as his press secretary, meaning Liam and Maddie had moved to Washington D.C. from Ohio and Liam had started spending more time in the city and less time at home in the suburbs with Maddie.
Liam yawned and pushed himself up from the floor, staggering toward the bed that had been shoved to the other side of the room, in the middle of the boxes and bookcases. It was the bed he’d been sleeping in since Maddie had told him she wanted a divorce six months ago.
He was exhausted and knew the walk down memory lane wasn’t helping to calm his jumbled thoughts. He flopped down on top of the covers on his back, when he reached the bed, closing his eyes, not even bothering to undress.
Maybe I should stay awake until Maddie gets back, he thought as sleep started to overtake him. But he couldn’t fight the sleep and his thoughts swirled together with dreams of the way his life with Maddie used to be.
The chapter is long this week but I’m throwing it up anyhow. Not a ton of people read my fiction or comment so who is going to care? No one. *wink* Sometimes it’s depressing writing into a void and sometimes it is very, very liberating.
Seriously, hope everyone is doing well and to find previous chapters from this story you can click HERE or at the top of the page where I also have links to excerpts from my books that are on sale on Kindle.
The board says they are going to need at least half of the loan paid off by the end of the summer for the bank not to foreclose.”
Bill Eberlin’s words were like a kick in the chest to the Tanner siblings and their spouses.
Half of the more than $50,000 loan paid off in less than three months? With the way the milk market was and the fact the corn was barely growing Robert knew the task was virtually impossible. He slid his hand over Annie’s as she sat in the chair next to him and clutched it tight. She smiled at him, but he saw the worry in her eyes.
The men of the family had kept their word and brought Annie, Hannah, and Lauren into the loop, to be sure the women were aware the full extent of the trouble the family’s business was in. Now they were sitting with him, Walt, and Bert in the sparsely decorated conference room at the Spencer Valley Savings and Loan, trying to find a way to save a business that not only supported them but several other families.
“By the end of the summer?” Bert shook his head. “I just don’t see how that’s possible. Will they accept installments of some kind?”
Bill drummed his fingers on the top of his desk. “They might would have if payments had been made before this ‘come to Jesus’ talk, so to speak. The members of the board are nervous, afraid they won’t get their money back. I think they believe setting a deadline will push you to get this loan paid and show you how important paying this loan back is to them.”
Robert rubbed his hand across his face. “I shouldn’t have dragged my feet on getting this taken care of.”
Walt leaned forward on his elbows on the table.
“You weren’t the only one who should have done something,” he said. “We were overly confident that we could take care of this with last year’s milk prices. The last quarter was much worse than any of us imagined.”
“There is plenty of blame to go around,” Hannah said. “But placing blame isn’t going to help us right now. The best we can hope for is a good growing season and stellar sales at the farm store.”
She leaned back in the plush chair with maroon cushions, arms folded across her chest, a determined expression furrowing her eyebrows.
“It’s not hopeless by any means,” she continued. “Our family has a good thing going, a good business. I know the market isn’t great and the growing season has been garbage this year, but the farm store may be just what will keep the business afloat. Molly and I were talking the other day about some ideas for expanding our inventory, adding home décor and expanding the greenhouse.”
Robert admired his sister’s optimism, but spending more money wasn’t what the family needed to do right now.
“Expansion means investing more money and more money isn’t what we have right now,” he said softly.
“I agree with Hannah.”
Walt’s wife, Lauren, was what Robert called pleasantly plump. She wore her light brown hair shoulder length most of the time, curling the edges toward her face, framing her attractive smile and bright blue eyes. She was soft spoken like her husband and thoughtful like Robert, rarely speaking before she had considered all the options of how her words would be received. Her sudden endorsement of Hannah was an unusual step for her.
She shifted slightly in her seat as she realized all eyes were on her now.
“It’s just, I think we can find a way to expand some of what we offer at the farm store and combining that with any income we receive from the milk and produce, we could reach the end of the summer deadline, or at least part of it. Maybe with a show of good faith the board will work with us.”
She glanced at Walt who smiled at her. Their eyes locked as she continued.
“If God is for us, who shall be against us? If we lose the business then, well, God has another plan for this family.”
A brief silence settled over the room. Lauren didn’t speak often but Annie, for one, was glad she had this time. She had a feeling the rest of the family agreed by the way they were nodding their heads.
Bill, clearing his throat, was the first to speak.
“So, sounds like we have a plan all at least. I’m going to keep talking to the board, keep fighting for them to let you amend the contract, and extend the deadline a little longer and you all get everyone in your circle on board and let me know how it goes.”
Walt laughed softly. “I guess that means we need to let our kids and staff know what’s going on.”
Robert winced. “Ooh boy. That’s not going to be fun.”
“No,” Annie agreed. “But it’s necessary.”
***
Molly had invited Alex to church more times than he could count. He’d always declined. He knew he wasn’t cut out for church. He’d never been a church person. Good people went to church and while he’d never been the worst person in the world, he’d never really been a good person.
In high school, he’d been a troublemaker, mostly pranks and petty theft and underage drinking. He wasn’t sure where he would have ended up if his grandfather hadn’t bailed him out of jail and put him to work at his car business after his last run-in with the law – stealing a truck from a local used car lot and driving it across the city until he crashed it into a telephone pole when the tire blew.
During college it had been all-night drinking at fraternity parties, but luckily he’d kept himself out of trouble long enough to finish his degree, even though he had had no idea if he even wanted to use degree. He’d tried working computer programming for a full year before he hit rock bottom and Jason picked him up and told him: “Boy, I’m going to sweat that rebellious spirit out of you.”
Alex had sweated a lot over the years, but he wasn’t sure he’d sweated anything out of himself except laziness. He’d sweated while working in the fields, cutting down the hay, bailing it, building barns, spreading manure, shoveling manure, milking cows, feeding cows, running errands, and hauling vegetables and other products to the farm store. He’d learned more about farming, construction, operating a business, and planting produce in the last five years than he’d ever learned about computers during college.
The Tanner family had influenced him in almost every aspect of his life, but so far he hadn’t agreed to attend church with any of them. He’d watched them live their faith out every day and that was enough for him. The idea of sitting in a church wasn’t one he relished. Sitting in a hard pew, wearing a stiff shirt and tie and shoes too tight on his feet while a man stood in the pulpit and told him all he’d done wrong with his life did not sound like his idea of fun.
Molly had talked to him about church this morning in the barn, about how a friend of the family was singing a solo, about how the music always made her feel relaxed and at peace. He’d listened to her while hooking the cows into their stall, trying not to laugh at the excited way she talked about a place that seemed so boring to him. Listening to her talk about church, though, didn’t make it sound so bad. Sitting next to her, even on a hard pew, didn’t sound so bad either. Still, he wasn’t interested in tagging along.
“You sure you don’t want to go?” Molly asked as he climbed into his truck.
“Yep, but have fun,” he said with a smile, touching his finger to the edge of his cowboy hat.
He pulled the truck out of the drive and looked in his rearview mirror at Molly walking back toward the farmhouse, wondering if it was wrong to admire the appearance of a pretty Christian girl on a Sunday morning.
Ten minutes later he pulled into the Bradley farm to pick up extra fencing they’d offered Robert the week before to help fix a space of broken fence in the lower pasture.
The Bradley’s 7-year old son Daniel sat on an old rusting milk can by the barn door.
“Hey there, Mr. Stone.”
Alex paused, narrowed his eyes and tipped his head back so he was looking down his nose at the little boy.
“Daniel. Little dude. What did I tell you about calling me Mr. Stone?”
Daniel grinned, a piece of sweet grass in the corner of one mouth. “You said don’t call you that. It makes you feel old.”
“That’s right,” Alex laughed, holding his hand out for a high five. Daniel returned the high five and jumped off the milk can.
“Come on Alex,” Daniel said with a mature jerk of his head. “Dad said to show you to the fencing back here.”
Alex followed Daniel, amazed, as always at his maturity at such a young age. The first time he’d met him a year ago he’d walked up to Alex and Robert, stuck out his hand and announced “Welcome to our farm. Follow me and I’ll show you the milking room.”
Four-feet tall, dark brown hair and freckles spread across his cheeks and nose, Alex always thought he looked like he walked out of one of those books by that writer his teacher made him read in sixth grade. The Farmer Boy or something.
“Fencing is there, wire is there and Dad says you can have the nails that went with it too.”
Alex nodded and reached for the fence posts and the barbed wire. “Thanks, bud. How’s farmin’ life treatin’ you?”
“Treatin’ me just fine,” Daniel said, leaning back against the wall of the barn, one foot crossing the other, hands in his pocket. “We had a calf last night. ‘Nother bull. Gotta sell it in a few weeks. Can’t give us milk and we already got a bull.”
Alex chuckled as he stacked the posts. As usual, Daniel was giving the run down like he was the parent, instead of the child.
“Were you there for the birth?” Alex asked.
“Yup. It was gross.”
Alex laughed. “But pretty cool to see new life come into the world, right?”
Daniel shrugged and spit the rest of the grass at the ground. “Yeah. Guess so.”
Alex heard Patrick Bradley’s voice boom across the yard to the barn.
“Daniel! Come on up to the house. It’s time to get ready for church.”
“Be right there, Dad! Just helping Alex get the fencin’.”
“Hey, Alex!”
“Hey, Patrick!” Alex shouted back.
He looked at Daniel and nodded toward the house. “Go on and get ready for church. I can finish here. Thanks for showing me where it was.”
Daniel shoved his hands in his overall pockets and turned toward the house then back to Alex again. “Don’t you go to church, Alex?”
Alex shook his head, tossing the last of the posts in the pile. “Nope.”
“Why not? Don’t you believe in God?”
Alex shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“So why don’t you wanna go to church?”
Alex lifted some of the posts and started walking toward his truck. “Just not my thing, kid. You go with your family and enjoy it, though, okay?”
Daniel walked behind him, furrowed eyebrows highlighting a thoughtful expression as he rubbed his chin. “I guess it’s okay if you don’t go to church. Mama says God’s not in the buildin’. He’s all around us so you could just talk to God no matter where you are, right?”
Alex tossed the posts into the back of the pick-up, turned and looked down at Daniel, ruffling his hair. “You know what, Daniel Bradley? You’re one smart kid.”
Daniel grinned, one of his bottom front teeth missing. “My mama tells me that all the time.”
“Well, she’s right. Now, head on in and get ready like your dad said. I’ll see you another day, okay?”
Alex watched Daniel run to the house and laughed to himself. If he’d been as smart at 29 as that kid was at seven he had a feeling he wouldn’t have had made as many mistakes as he had in life.
After breakfast in town, Alex headed back to the farm, windows down in the truck, music turned up. He glanced at the Tanner’s church on his way by, slowing down when he noticed Molly out front talking to someone hidden by a tree. Her reddish-brown curls spilled down her back, loose, unlike when she worked in the barn and secured it in a ponytail or under a baseball cap. She was wearing a light pink shirt that highlighted her curves and a flowing black skirt.
Molly smiled and nodded to the person she was talking to. When Alex slowed down and pulled his truck into a parking spot further down the street, he could see through his side mirror that the other person was Ben.
Ben motioned toward a bench in front of the church and sat down. Molly sat next to him as he spoke. At first her expression was serious, then a smile crossed her mouth. She nodded again, speaking to Ben and reached across and laid her hand on his.
What are you even doing, Alex? You’re looking like a stalker right now.
He rolled his eyes. No. You don’t look like one. You’re being one right now.
Molly smiled and laughed again.
Ben smiled and laughed too.
They seemed to be enjoying themselves. Alex noticed the way Ben was sitting close to Molly, touching her arm lightly as they spoke, the way she wasn’t moving away from him, instead watching him intently, clearly engaged in the conversation and maybe also engaged in admiring him.
Jealousy hit Alex hard in the center of the chest. Jealousy and another feeling he couldn’t exactly put his finger on. Maybe disappointment mixed with anger, mixed with a hard realization that he’d been a fool thinking he’d ever be good enough for someone like Molly. Uninterested in sitting and watching their happy reunion any longer, he shifted the truck into gear and gently pulled onto the road, back toward the farm, cursing under his breath.
***
Jason Tanner pulled his dirty shirt and jeans off and tossed them toward the laundry basket on his way to the bathroom for a shower. It had been a long day, a long week, and that whole thing with Molly a few days before hadn’t helped his mood at all either. He had no idea what nerve he had touched when he offered his sister a cookie but it had left him bewildered and annoyed. He’d been so annoyed he hadn’t even addressed it with her yet, choosing instead not to poke an angry bear.
Women were so confusing. How did offering someone a cookie translate to “You’re fat.”? And how was he supposed to know that Molly was upset about her weight? He knew she’d been working out with Liz and eating a lot of grass-like foods, but he thought it was because she wanted to get healthier, not because she thought she was fat. She never seemed to let it bother her before. She was funny, confident, joked around in the barn and at work at the farm store. She never seemed down or depressed. At least that he’d noticed.
Of course, he was a guy and it had been pointed out to him more than once by El, Molly and a few other women in his life, that he was a bit oblivious at times.
Molly wasn’t fat anyhow. Sure, she’d gained weight over the years, but she looked fine. What was she so worried about anyhow?
He turned the shower on, washing the dirt, grime and sweat from the day away. Today had been tough and pretty weird but that day earlier in the week with Grandma had been even weirder. Had he actually struck a deal with his grandmother to propose to El? He knew his grandmother would hold up her end of the deal too; anything to get him to follow through on his end.
He didn’t know why he was so worried about it anyhow. He’d wanted to propose to Ellie for a couple of years. He could just never seem to get his courage up and then life, and their relationship, would continue on and he’d push it to the side again. He liked the way things were between them now; date nights, road trips to antique stores, church on Sunday, long walks in the woods behind her parents’ house, movie nights.
Of course, there was that one downside that Alex had harassed him about. The whole ‘waiting for marriage’ thing. He definitely struggled with that one, not so much in respecting Ellie’s wishes, because he did respect them, but with the waiting. Like Ellie, he’d been brought up to wait for physical connection beyond kissing until marriage, but there was no denying it, waiting was hard. Very hard. Especially since every time he was near Ellie a barely controlled desire roared inside him and he often had to step back before he tried to push their kisses further.
They’d come close to going all the way more than once but one of them had always stopped it, reminding each other they wanted to save that special moment for their wedding night. Then they’d have the familiar long talk about making sure they had enough money in the bank before they got married, so they could pay for the wedding (since both their parents were farmers and strapped for money) and since they wanted to be able to buy their own house and be financially secure when they were married.
It wasn’t that Jason had never “been with”, for lack of a better term, another woman. He had. Once. In college. With someone he hadn’t cared about. He had met her at a party and thought he wanted to be someone different than he’d been at home. It wasn’t a pleasant memory for him and he’d tried to push it out of his mind for years. The memory carried with it an overwhelming guilt that he’d sacrificed his personal morals for an experience that was rushed and impersonal.
He and Ellie hadn’t been dating at the time and though he hated that it sounded like an excuse, Jason had been restless, lonely, lost. He felt like that night was his rock bottom moment; a wake up call to what kind of man he really wanted to be.
He’d never told Ellie, but, of course, she’d never asked either.
Jason shut the shower off and reached for a towel, rubbing it against his face, water dripping onto the floor. Maybe that was why he hadn’t proposed to her yet. He hadn’t been honest with her and deep down he knew he needed to be open and completely honest with her if they were going to get married, letting her decide for herself if she still wanted to be with him, to start a life with him, despite the fact he’d withheld part of his past from her.
He groaned into the towel. He had to bite the bullet, no matter what, though, not just because of the deal with his grandmother, but because he needed to know if Ellie would accept him despite his failings. God, he hoped she would because he couldn’t imagine his life without her.
After taking a break last week I’m back this week with Chapter 15. Things might start to pick up this week with Alex and Molly, but you will have to see.
You can find the link to the rest of the story so far HERE, or at the top of the page.
Molly looked at the scale and growled. She’d lost five pounds. Five lousy pounds in three weeks. After eating tasteless food, drinking so much water with lemon she was floating away, and working out until her brain had practically melted, she’d only lost five pounds.
She sat on her bed then flopped back on it hard, laying on her back and staring at the ceiling. Why had she suddenly become so obsessed with weight loss anyhow? Was it her increasing attraction to Alex? The weird way he was now acting toward her? The sudden reappearance of Ben? Her strong urge to leave the farm and find out if there was something out there for her?
She knew deep down that it was all of those things.
Everything in her life during this season was making her want to lose weight and fast. She was tired of being boring, fat Molly. She was tired of looking in the mirror and crying. She was tired of being winded when she finished working in the barn. Then again, she’d always been winded after working in the barn, even before she’d gained the weight, so maybe losing weight wouldn’t solve that problem.
She rolled on her side and looked out her window. She needed to get back to the barn and clean out the stalls before the cows came in from the field for milking. She needed to get back to the routine and mundane.
Again.
Same old, same old.
Just like at the farm store.
Except it wasn’t really the same old, same old at the barn recently. Her relationship with Alex was changing, though she couldn’t exactly say how, and that had changed the dynamic in the barn, not in a bad way exactly; just different. She didn’t know what she thought about that change. She didn’t have time to think about it now, though. There was work to do. She’d have to think about Alex later.
Inside the barn Alex was shoveling old hay out of the hayloft to make room for fresh hay. Wearing a white, sleeveless shirt and stained blue jeans he paused in between throws to wipe sweat off his forehead and wave at Molly as she walked in. Molly waved at him without much enthusiasm, even as she admired how good his shirt looked on him.
Jason was holding a plate of cookies, choosing one off the top and passing the plate toward Molly.
“Hey, Aunt Hannah dropped off some cookies. Grandma’s recipe. Have one.”
“No, thank you.”
Molly kept walking, reaching for the shovel.
“What’s with you lately anyhow?” Jason asked, following her and pushing the plate toward her. “Eat a cookie, Molly. You’re always eating that salad crap. You’re becoming like Liz.”
Molly glared over her shoulder at her brother and pushed the shovel into the pile of manure.
“It wouldn’t be so bad to be like Liz,” she mumbled. “Pretty and cute and skinny.”
“Whatever,” Jason said, rolling his eyes. “Just eat a cookie already.”
Jason swallowed the bite of cookie, watching his sister with wide eyes. “I didn’t call you fat. What’s your problem? I wasn’t serious, I was just —”
“Just stating the obvious, I know. The obvious that your sister is always going to be fat and therefore she shouldn’t even try to lose the weight, right? I get it. I’m fat and I’ll always be fat.”
Jason swallowed hard and looked up at Alex for help. Alex’s surprised expression and somewhat blank stare wasn’t any help at all.
Tears hovered on the edge of Molly’s eyes when she tossed the shovel into the manure pile and stomped by Jason, brushing her hand across her face quickly.
“I’m going for a drive,” she snapped walking toward the open barn door.
“Molly, I didn’t mean anything,” Jason called after her. “I’m sorry. You’re not fat, okay?”
Alex climbed down from the hayloft and patted his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll go check on her. She’ll be okay.”
Jason sat on a haybale and tossed the remainder of the cookie into a pile of hay, leaning his arms on his knees. “Yeah. Okay.”
Alex left him with his chin in his hand, looking at the floor with furrowed eyebrows and a creased forehead, an expression mixed with concern and confusion on his face.
Alex caught up to Molly as she flung the door to her truck open. He reached out quickly and wrapped his hand around hers, snatching the keys from her hand.
“Hey, lady, you look a little too stressed to be driving. Let me, okay?”
Molly brushed her hand across her face again. She didn’t not need Alex to drive her anywhere. Especially when she was feeling fat, ugly, out of shape and her face was splotchy from crying.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Give me my keys.”
Alex held the keys out away from her as she reached for them. “Now, now. Calm down. I want to take you somewhere.”
He stepped back and opened the driver’s side door. “Let me drive.”
Molly stood outside the truck with her arms tightly folded across her chest. “Get in,” Alex said, jerking his head toward the passenger side and turning the key in the ignition. “Let’s see what this piece of junk can do.”
Molly folded her arms across her chest, stomped to the passenger side and slid in, furious, sad, and annoyed all at the same time. Alex revved the engine, grinning. “Let’s hope the engine doesn’t fall out before we get out of the drive.”
Molly scowled at him. “Don’t make fun of this truck,” she snapped. “It was my grandpa’s truck and it’s all I have left of him.”
Alex’s grin faded and he nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll take good care of it.”
The farm faded out of view, replaced by open fields, then wooded areas, groves of trees and open spaces, places where deer wandered into on cool summer mornings and where her grandfather used to set up a deer stand when he was able to hunt.
When Alex pulled into a space between a grove of maple trees she knew exactly where she was. The farthest end of her family’s property, where, when you got out of your car and walked toward rolling hills at eye level, you could overlook the entire farm and some of the additional land the Tanner’s had purchased over the years.
She hadn’t been here since her grandfather had died. It had always been too painful.
Alex shut the truck engine off and opened the door. “Come on. Follow me.”
Molly slumped down in the seat for a moment, fighting back emotions. She didn’t want to follow him and be reminded of all she’d lost when she lost her grandfather. She finally pushed open the door, listening to the familiar squeak, knowing she should oil it but finding it comforting somehow since it’d always made that noise when she wrote in it with her grandfather.
Alex sat on a tree that had fallen over since Molly had been there last. He patted the tree next to her and she sat next to him, feeling anxious, awkward, and like she’d rather crawl inside a hole than be here with him so close to her and her feeling so disgusted with her physical appearance.
Alex took a deep breath and let it out again. He hadn’t felt nervous until now, sitting alone with Molly practically in the middle of nowhere. He’d driven her here so he could tell her she wasn’t fat, she was beautiful and smart and worth so much more than what she thought she was. But now, he found himself struggling to share with Molly his true feelings, not the joking, teasing feelings they usually shared with each other.
He let out a slow breath. “Your grandpa took me up here once right before sunset a year or so after I started working here,” he started. “He told me the history of this farm, about his struggles, about his dream of passing it down to his children and grandchildren. He gave me a little history of his family, his children, his grandchildren, even you and Jason. He was proud of all of you, Molly. Very proud.”
“Talking to him gave me a whole new perspective about working here. It made me see it as more than a job, but as a way of living – taking care of the land, taking care of the livestock and taking care of family. You know I didn’t have a great family life growing up. It was everyone for themselves. We weren’t really a team like your family is. I think that’s why I’ve fallen in love with his place.”
And with you, he wanted to add, but didn’t.
“Because your family has accepted me as part of the team. Your family loves you as you are, Molly. They wouldn’t love you anymore if you lost all that weight you think you need to lose to be good enough.”
Tell her you love her the way she is too, Alex. Dang it already. Just tell her.
Alex clearly saw light pink spread along Molly’s cheeks as she looked down at the ground and kicked at the dirt with her mud-covered boot. God, how he wanted to kiss that cheek, kiss that pink away, and tell her she didn’t need to be embarrassed, tell her she was beautiful just the way she was.
“Thank you, Alex. That means a lot. It really does.”
He heard the emotion in her voice, catching in her throat.
He needed to kiss her. Right now. The sun was setting, casting a pink and purple hue across them. There was a light breeze, the smell of summer heavy in the air. It was the perfect moment. He watched her looking at the ground, sitting on the tree, a tear slipping down her cheek and he wanted to kiss that tear away then kiss her mouth and make her forget about everything that was making her cry.
He reached out and gently laid his hand over hers. “Molly . . .”
The buzz of his cellphone startled him, and he dug quickly in his pocket to silence it, but it was too late. It had already ruined the moment.
“That’s probably, Jason,” Molly said, standing and stepping toward the truck. “He’ll need help getting the cows back in. We’d better head down. I’ve still got to shovel the stalls out.”
“Yeah.” He looked at the phone. “It is him.”
Dang it all to hell, Jason, he grumbled to himself. You’ve got the worse timing.
Following her to the truck his heart pounding with a mix of adrenaline from almost kissing her and disappointment that he hadn’t actually done it, he wondered how she would have reacted if he had taken her face in his hands like he wanted to and kissed her softly, finally tasting the sweet red lips he stared at so often.
“Where are you?” Jason asked when he returned the call while they drove down the dirt road.
“Just up on the hill looking at the farm. We’re on our way back.”
He wondered what Jason would say if he knew he’d almost kissed his sister on top of that hill. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything. Maybe he’d simply grab Alex around the throat and throttle him until he lost air. He wasn’t sure, but he was glad he didn’t have to find out. Not yet anyhow.
“I miss Ned, you know,” he said as they drove. “He was a good guy. Reminded me of my own grandfather.”
“Is your grandfather still alive?”
“No. Both of mine are gone actually. One to lung cancer right after I graduated college. The other committed suicide before I was born.
Molly winced. “Ow. That must have been awful for – your mom or your dad?”
“My dad. Sometimes I wonder if that’s why he was such an awful dad, you know? He really didn’t have his dad long enough to teach him how to be one.”
“I can see how that would happen. What about your other grandfather? Did you know him well?”
“Very. He’s the grandfather who literally dragged me out of a jail cell by my ear when I was 18 and told me I wasn’t going to ruin my life. He made me work at his garage that whole summer and the next year and then insisted I go to college. If it wasn’t for him, I’d probably still be in a jail cell somewhere.”
He pulled his shirt collar down with one hand, revealing the tattoo. “I got this in his memory, so I’d never forget what he did for me, how much he wanted me to succeed.”
I wish I could look at with pride, knowing I’ve lived up to what he wanted for me, instead of in shame, he thought as he let go of the collar.
Molly smiled, watching him, grateful he was showing her a tender side she’d hadn’t seen very often before, a side usually covered up with jokes and laughter and gentle teasing.
“How did you end up in jail anyhow?” she asked.
Alex laughed and shook his head as he shifted gears. The truck groaned a protest. “Punched a guy at a football game because he tried to get with a girl I liked. I was such a loser back then.”
He decided to leave off that he’d also been drunk at the time and the stunt had landed him in jail because it was his second offense, his second time getting in a drunken fight in less than six months. His third offense had been breaking and entering at his dad’s business, stealing a car and taking it for a joy ride. His grandfather had bailed him out each time, the last time with a strict warning that it was the last time he’d help him. The next time he’d leave him in the jail cell and to face the consequences.
“We all do stupid things when we’re young,” Molly said.
Alex scoffed. “I bet you’ve never done anything stupid.”
Molly looked out the windshield at the farm now coming into view. She thought about telling Alex about how she was being stupid now, falling for him when he was completely out of her league. She could tell him how she was stupidly wishing he’d pull this truck over and kiss her until she didn’t have to think about the farm anymore, or her weight, or wonder how he really felt about her.
“Dating Ben was stupid,” she said finally. “Making out with a guy I met at community college behind the bleachers was pretty stupid too.”
Alex’s eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry? What?! Are you serious?”
Molly laughed and dropped her face into her hands. “Yes. Ugh. It was such a weak moment. I was lonely and Ben had dropped me a year before and the guy was interested in me and guys aren’t usually interested in me so . . .”
I’m interested in you. Very.
Alex shrugged and cleared his throat. “Well, that is a bit of interesting information I didn’t know before. The making out session aside, you were very young and from what it sounds like to me, Ben was very stupid when he walked away from you.”
Molly tipped her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “How did you know Ben walked away?”
Alex cleared his throat, pulling into the driveway for the farm. “It’s just . . . uh . . . the impression I got one day when I . . uh. . .” he laughed softly. “Well, I overheard your parents one day in the barn. I wasn’t eavesdropping. Exactly anyhow. I was just getting feed and they were talking and —”
Molly wasn’t sure how she felt about her parents talking about her relationship with Ben, in private, let alone where other people might overhear them. “What were they saying?”
“Just that — Listen, it wasn’t anything bad. They just . . .” he glanced at her, trying to gauge her annoyance level on a scale of one to ten. She looked to be about a four, so he plowed ahead. “They were just worried about you because they felt Ben hurt you more back then than you let on. I stepped away when I heard what they were talking about. It wasn’t right for me to be listening in.”
Molly chewed on her bottom lip. “Oh. Well, that was sweet of them really.” She shrugged. “But I’m okay. That was so long ago.”
She was not okay, but she was not about to tell Alex she was not okay.
She felt a sudden urge to jump out of the truck and run. She didn’t want to talk about Ben at all, let alone with Alex. And did she really just tell him about the guy she kissed from community college? The only other person who knew about that was Liz.
Alex’s hand around her wrist was firm, yet gentle. “Hey.”
She turned to look at him, the door to the passenger side open and her ready to climb out and head to the barn to finish her work.
His blue eyes were brighter than she’d ever remembered them being, or maybe she simply hadn’t looked at them as closely as she was now. Were those flecks of green always there?
“I know you said the truck is all you have left of your grandpa,” he said. “But it isn’t true. Your grandpa taught you a lot so what’s left of him is still inside you. Just like what my grandpa taught me is still inside me.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Of course, I haven’t always listened to it, but it’s there.”
A smile tugged at Molly’s mouth. She moved her other hand to cover Alex’s, feeling a rush of energy when her skin touched his.
“Thank you, Alex,” she whispered, her hand lingering on his..\ “That really means a lot.”
Kiss her, Alex. For God sake, just kiss her already
Her eyes focused on his for a few seconds longer and then her hand slipped from his, her skin soft against his rough palm.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered.
Molly closed the door to the truck and walked back to the barn, Alex watching her until she disappeared inside. He leaned back and chewed at the nail on his thumb, a habit he’d recently picked up, thinking, silently cursing himself for chickening out, for keeping silent when he should have told Molly how he really felt about her. He climbed out of the truck, heading back to the barn, knowing that conversation would now have to wait for another day.
I’m sharing parts three and four of Rekindle today. To read the first two parts, click HERE.
With the children in bed, it was just Matt and Cassie alone in the living room. Alone. Together. With a canyon of silence between them.
Matt slumped further down on the couch, drumming his fingers on the cushion. He had no idea what to do with himself without hearings to plan for, committee meetings to gather research for or statements to draft for the press with his brother. He should probably be on the phone with John and Liam, preparing their plan of action for when they got back into the office in the next week or so. He looked at his phone on the end of the couch but didn’t feel any motivation to reach for it. In fact, he didn’t feel any motivation at all to deal with his job, especially the press.
He’d already drafted a statement with John. There really wasn’t anything else to say. For now anyhow. He was sure in the next day or so he’d be getting calls from other congressmen and congresswomen looking to set up virtual meetings to draft various bills or establish plans of action for the current situation, but for now his phone had gone silent and he should enjoy the silence while he could. He would have enjoyed it, if it just wasn’t so weird.
He felt his forehead. Maybe he was coming down with that virus after all. He’d been going full bore at his job for two years straight now, but today he’d finally hit some kind of wall. He wasn’t even motivated to reach for the remote and watch television.
He looked over at Cassie sitting sideways on a chair, her legs hanging over the arm of it, her head bent over a book. She was wearing a pair of hot pink short-shorts, a loose fitting white t-shirt and her hair was falling out of a messy bun she’d piled on top of her head. Her long legs were as shapely and attractive as the first day he’d met her. His eyes followed the length of them from her bare toes to the edge of her shorts and remembered the many times his hand had traveled that path over the years.
Desire swelled in his chest as he thought about the night they’d celebrated his congressional win. She’d worn that black skirt with the slit in the side, the slit that went from her knee to the middle of her thigh. Only she hadn’t even known the skirt had that slit until she was at his victory speech and he’d laughed later in the back of Liam’s car when he had watched her try to hold the pieces together, her cheeks flushed pink. Cassie always was fairly modest in how she dressed and he knew she never would have worn the dress if she hadn’t been rushed. The election results came in earlier than expected and she’d snatched the skirt out of her closet, the skirt she’d purchased a few days before but hadn’t had a chance to try on. She knew Matt’s acceptance speech was going to be closely watched by many since he had run against a long-time congressman who had been thrown in the middle of a scandal the year before.
“I can’t believe I wore this skirt to your acceptance speech,” she hissed. “I can imagine what the press will be saying tomorrow.”
“That your gorgeous?”
“Or that I’m a floozy.”
Matt tipped his head all the way back and laughed. “A floozy? What happened right there? Did we just teleport back to the 40s?”
Cassie punched Matt in the upper arm, giggling. “Shut up.”
Back at the house, the children staying with Cassie’s parents, Matt had stood behind Cassie as she unhooked her necklace and took her earrings out.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, stepping closer, reaching out to touch the edge of the skirt. “I really like this skirt.”
“Oh, you do, do you?”
His finger found the slit and slipped inside, touching the skin there, on her upper thigh.
His mouth touched her bare neck, his voice husky as he spoke. “All I wanted to do was get back here with you. No kids. All alone. Finally.”
She turned, smiling, pushing her hands into his hair. “And what can we do here, all alone?”
He didn’t need words to answer her question. His mouth found hers while he gently pushed her back toward the bed, lowering her to it.
“You okay over there?”
Cassie’s voice interrupted the memory of his hand traveling under that skirt, up that leg, that night.
“Huh? Oh yeah. Good. I’m good.”
“You miss work, don’t you?”
“Um. No. Actually. I don’t. And that weirds me out a little.”
“Oh.”
She shrugged and turned back to her book. “This break is probably just showing you how burned out you are.”
“I’m not burned out. Am I?”
Cassie was back into her book. “Mmm. If you say so.”
Matt sat up straighter and leaned forward on his knees toward Cassie.
“We haven’t spent a lot of time together lately, have we?
She glanced up from the book, one eyebrow cocked.
“No. Not really, but you’ve been busy. I understand.”
“Do you want to spend more time together? I mean, maybe you’re bored with me? Our life here together?”
Cassie laughed. “Matt, where is this all coming from?” she closed the book. “Is this because of Liam and Maddie?
Matthew shrugged. “Yeah. Maybe. It’s got me thinking a lot, I guess.”
“So? What’s the verdict? Are Liam and Maddie getting a divorce?”
Matt sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, they’ve been meeting with a divorce attorney. The only reason they missed the last meeting was because of this whole debacle.”
He looked at Cassie, watched her watching him and wondered again if Cassie would ever want to divorce him. If she did, he wouldn’t blame her. He’d dragged her into this crazy political world, under a never-satisfied microscope of public scrutiny. The same with the kids. What had he been thinking? Of his constituents? The future of the country? Or had it really just been of himself and his own desire to reach a certain level of success?
“And now they are stuck together in that house,” Maddie said with a shake of her head. “Wow. That has to be super awkward.”
“Yeah. It is. Liam said Maddie accused him of cheating on her.”
Cassie’s eyes widened. “No way.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, did he?”
“Cassie! You know Liam wouldn’t do something like that.”
“I don’t think he would, no, but . . .”
“But what? Men do those things because we’re all jerks, is that what you mean?”
“I’m not saying that but long hours, all those pretty women around, he and Maddie so distant after the miscarriages, especially after the last one.”
Matt was feeling uncomfortable with his wife’s line of thinking. He stood and walked toward the kitchen for a glass of juice. His wife really thought his little brother could cheat on his wife? If she thought that then what did she think of him? He’d been working long hours too. Around a lot of pretty women, many of them more than willing to sleep with a congressman to work their way up the ladder in their careers. Was Cassie drawing a line between the possibility that Liam had cheated to the possibility he had too?
He poured the juice and heard her footsteps behind him. “I’m sorry, Matt. I really can’t see Liam doing that, no. Your brother has just been under a lot of pressure and —”
“Being under pressure doesn’t lean to affairs every time, okay?”
Cassie raised her eyes brows and held up her hands. “Okay. I wasn’t trying to pick a fight. I was just trying to enjoy a quiet night for once with a book. I’ll leave you alone.”
Matt turned toward her. “Cassie, I didn’t mean to start a fight either. I just —”
“It’s fine.” Cassie walked to him and kissed his cheek. She stepped back and looked him in the eyes. “You just need to unwind. You’ve been put through the ringer by the media, other members of congress, and now Liam’s drama. I don’t blame you for being tense. Why don’t you go watch one of your favorite shows. I’m going to turn in early.”
“You don’t need to turn in early.”
Her mind had been made up though. She was weary of discussing Liam and politics and viruses and . . . life, quite frankly.
“I really do need to,” she said softly, already at the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. “See you in the morning, Matt.”
Matt finished his juice and shuffled back to the living room. Watch one of his favorite shows? He didn’t even have any favorite shows. Not current ones anyhow. He never had time to watch television anymore. He sat on the couch and slumped in the corner of it again, even further down this time than before.
He didn’t have time for anything anymore other than political fights and trying to put out fires. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. Dang it. What had he been thinking dragging his family through all of this? Just, seriously, what had he been thinking?
***
Cassie climbed under the covers and flopped on her back to stare at the ceiling, barely lit by the moonlight outside.
What was with all of Matt’s weird questions tonight? The situation with Liam and Maddie must be rattling him even more than she realized. She fluffed up her pillow, hugged it and tried to get more comfortable. It wasn’t working, though. Her mind was racing too much.
She was thinking about viruses and if her family was safe and Liam and Maddie and how to get groceries if they had to shelter in place and the media and what they’d be saying for the rest of the week with Matt and his staff having still worked for a week after they knew they’d been exposed to a contagious virus. She squeezed her eyes shut, took in a deep breath and held it for several seconds before letting it out again. She had to calm down.
She couldn’t deny that there were days she regretted agreeing with Matt that he should run for Congress. They both had such high hopes three years ago; hopes that they could make changes for the voters who had put their faith in Matt, while not being changed. But it was impossible not to be changed by the influences of Washington, D.C. Nothing in this city was like the small upstate New York town Cassie had grown up in and it was also nothing like where she and Matt had lived before he had been elected.
Stevensville, Ohio was small. Very small. It was also still her and Matt’s home in the summers when they left Washington D.C. behind for much needed breaks. Only that break wouldn’t be coming this year. Not with all the craziness about viruses and quarantines and freezes on travel. Cassie wanted to cry but she was afraid to because once she started, she might not stop. She was homesick for Ohio, for her own family, for Matt’s family, for the familiar she’d left behind when Matt was elected two years ago.
She sighed and opened her eyes, looking at the other side of the bed where Matt slept most nights of the week, unless he was working late and then he stayed at John’s apartment, closer to his office. She touched the side of the bed, feeling the cool sheets, thinking of how many nights they’d laid here next to each other, back to back, rarely speaking because she knew he needed his sleep, because she knew he needed to get up early in the morning, because she didn’t want to burden him anymore than he was already burdened.
But she missed him. She missed him holding her and them talking about their future, instead of him telling her about the stress he’d been under that day and then falling into a fitful sleep. She missed his hand on her cheek as he moved closer late at night, a small, mischievous smile that signaled he wasn’t ready for sleep yet.
She missed long, slow kisses, roaming hands, but as much as the physical, she missed the emotional connection they’d once had. The connection when Matt wanted to talk with her before anyone else, when he didn’t want to make a decision unless he’d asked her, and when she’d known so much about his day, his job and his life that it was as if they were thinking like one person.
“Cassie, are you sure you’re okay with this?” he’d asked three and a half years ago when he’d considered running for congress.
“Yeah. I am.”
That’s what she’d said, but she really wasn’t sure she was okay with it. She was okay with Matt wanting to help the people of his small hometown and the surrounding counties by becoming a congressman from Ohio, but she wasn’t really sure she was okay with the lives of their entire family being upended. She’d given up her social worker career five years before, deciding to spend more time at home with the children. Matt’s career as a lawyer had exploded and from there he’d become involved in county politics and then state politics. When the state’s Republican party came to him and asked him to run for Congress, he’d turned them down at first. But after several meetings, a few months of consideration, and talking to Cassie, his parents, his sister and brother, he’d decided to step into an already contentious race for the seat.
From the moment he’d announced to the day he won the seat, the lives of the Grant family had been a whirlwind. After the election, the moving began, the children were enrolled in new schools; every effort was made to ensure that the children and Cassie would see Matt as much as possible, despite his job.
The idea had been a good one, but the execution of it had started to fail within six months. Meetings, conferences, sessions that ran late into the night, and media-made emergencies were constant, taking over every aspect of Matt and Cassie’s life. Matt still made every effort to attend baseball games, dance recitals, and Saturday mornings at the park, in addition to balancing his responsibilities as a congressman, but that left little to almost no time for him and Cassie.
For the most part, Cassie was okay with being the last in line for his attention. She preferred he spend as much time as he could with the children during their formative years. This was a season of life, not a new normal. Time for them, as a couple, would come later, when things slowed down.
If things slow down, Cassie thought, panic suddenly gripping her, like a heavy weight in the center of her chest. If Matt gets reelected we could have another two years of this and maybe even another two after that. . .
She shuddered, pulling the covers up around her, even though it wasn’t that cold in their bedroom. She tried to imagine two more years, or even more, of accusations against her husband, and sometimes even her, in the press. She tried to imagine two more years of barely seeing her husband; of feeling like her husband’s nanny, even though she loved her children desperately; and of constituents confronting her husband when they were out in public, complaining about this or that change he’d promised he’d make if elected but still hadn’t been able to.
Cassie knew it wasn’t only the town she and Matt had lived in before moving here that she was homesick for, or the quiet life they’d led before he’d entered politics. She was homesick for time alone with Matt. She was tired of sharing him with his staff, his fellow congressmen, his constituents, and the press. She was tired of feeling like she was second in line for his attention, even though she knew he didn’t mean to make her feel that way.
Who knows, she thought, feeling sleep finally settling on her. Maybe this quarantine will be good for not only Liam and Maddie but for Matt and me. Maybe I’ll actually get him to myself for once.
