“Something is wrong!” I squeak in to the phone. “Something is very very wrong, Ford! She’s never acted like this before! She’s sitting really weird! I don’t know what to do! Tell me what to do!”
“Whoa, calm down, Darlin’,” he casually commands from the other end of the conversation. “I’m sure she’s fine-”
“She’s not!”
“Take a deep breath-”
“She’s sick!”
“Ol-”
“She won’t eat!”
“Ol-”
“She won’t drink!”
Princess Pinky looks at me with the saddest eyes from her spot on my couch.
“Oh God, I think she’s dying!”
“Ollie,” the firm sound of my name shuts my lips tightly. “You can’t panic like that. Animals pick up on it. So do me a favor, in case something really is wrong with her, take a deep breath and try to calm down.” After hearing me do as he instructed, he states, “Look, I’m at work still. It’s gonna take me at least twenty-five minutes to get to you. Can you hold it together that long?”
The realization I’m being intrusive rings a little too loud, a little too late. “God, you’re at work…” Shaking my head profusely, I apologize, “I’m so sorry. I had no right to call. You have a job! You run a company! You-”
“Would’ve been hotter than bacon grease had you not called.”
The analogy receives a small chortle.
“Told you, Ollie. Any time you two need me, I’m there.”
“But-”
“No buts,” he ends the argument. “I’m leaving now. Just…try to refrain from further panic, please. If not for my sake than for Princess Pinky’s.”
“Okay…” Slumping back against the couch, I quietly say, “Thanks, Ford.”
“Anytime, baby.”
The change to a more intimate term of endearment gets my heart racing once more, this time for a better reason.
“I’ll um…I’ll see you shortly.”
Ford ends the call without waiting for a proper goodbye from me.
His conflicting actions cause me to grumble my irritation.
It’s been six weeks since we first met. Six. Weeks. According to Camilla we’ve missed our window of being more than just close friends. I want to tell her she’s wrong or better yet that I’m praying to God she is. I can’t imagine ever feeling this comfortable around anyone else or this…painstakingly horny. It’s embarrassing. Really. One minute I’m mindlessly baring my soul over drinks, the next I’m a watching him lick Dorito cheese off his fingers wishing it were my juices instead. I have discovered the true definition of sexually frustrated. Why he hasn’t just made a move is what has me worried. In the beginning, I swore it was because it was an awkward way for two people to start dating, but as time has gone on, I’m beginning to think maybe he’s truly not interested. Maybe the vibes I believed I was getting at first were just rebound booty, the whole looking for a new woman to get into to forget the old one. Even if that’s not the Ford I feel I know, it’s the only conclusion that makes sense of the hot, cold nature he’s drowning me in. Camilla keeps suggesting I just jump in his lap and throw my tongue down his throat to prove she’s right. I’m choosing to take those comments as her way of offering comedic relief and not actual advice.
By the time Ford arrives at my apartment, I’ve got my shoes on, purse ready, and Princess Pinky wrapped snuggly in a blanket in my arms. His concerned expression warms my heart. “You two alright?”
“I wanna take her to the pet clinic.”
“Ollie-”
“No.” My head defiantly lifts. “I wanna take her to pet clinic and make sure she really is okay.”
“Most pet clinics are closed by now. It’s after seven.”
“Then the emergency one.”
“They don’t typically deal with farm life, Ollie.” When my expression doesn’t budge, he caves. “Fine. I know one who does. His place is closed, but he’ll see us anyway. I’m warning you now. It’s a bit of a drive.”
“It’s worth it if you’re sure he’ll see us.”
“I am.”
“Then let’s go.”
The three of us promptly exit my apartment. After a quick message is sent, he guides us to where he parked his truck in the garage of my parking complex.
He carefully helps me onto the step to climb inside. “Sorry about the mess. Rushin’ over didn’t give me any time to clear my shit out.”
I look down at his muddy cowboy boots, a balled up work shirt, and his computer bag. “It’s fine.”
Once I’m settled in, he hustles around to the other side, and gets in himself.
On the drive out of the city, he cycles through a list of question that sounds very similar to what I’m sure the vet will ask. He asks for as many details as he can in regards to when I believe the symptoms she’s showcasing began, to the various shades of color of her last poop. Despite my gagging over pee smell accusations and the idea of possibly having to change a diaper if she indeed does have to have medication that gives her diarrhea, Ford remains the same sweet guy he always is.
About forty-five minutes later, we’re pulling into the dark, vacant parking lot of a veterinary clinic in what feels like the middle of nowhere. The lack of other nearby businesses has me more skeptical than I care to admit out loud. Beggars can’t be choosers, but it doesn’t mean I should fear I’m going to be eaten by coyotes rather than afraid I’m going to get mugged.
Ford kills the engine, hustles around, and helps the two of us out like he did in. When we arrive at the dusty door, he offers me a smile at the same time he knocks. The lack of answering causes him to turn his polite hits into harsh bangs.
All of a sudden the door swings open and a frightening large man towers over us.
“Please don’t kill us!”
The man leans one arm on the door frame while lowering his green eyes to a glare at me.
I said please! Maybe he’ll take that into consideration before he drags us to the basement to reenact something from Silence of The Lambs or whatever he was inspired to by an episode of Criminal Minds.
“Knock it off, Big Foot.” Ford commands with a point of a finger. “She’s already worked up enough over the hog.”
The giant’s grin appears wide enough to shade us from the moonlight that’s just beginning.
“B-B-B-Big Foot? Wasn’t he covered in hair and not real?”
The man lets out a hearty chuckle, wets his lips, and shakes his head. “You’re weren’t kiddin’, Runt. She is a beaut.”
Not sure if he’s referencing me or the hog, I decide it’s best to remain silent.
“Let us in already,” Ford demands.
Big Foot takes a step backward allowing us safe passage inside. He shuts the door behind us while I observe the very country themed, very calming waiting area. The dark brown couches with the plaid pillows to match the plaid curtains reminds me of the shirts Ford always seems to be wearing when he sends me photos on Sundays. On the walls are stars and sweet sayings spelled out with twine or rope. Everything is neat, cleaned, and obviously shut down for the night, making me feel even guiltier about intruding.
“Before we get started, why don’t I introduce myself since Runt here lacks manners,” Big Foot states slyly. “William Jr. or as friends and family know me, Big Foot.”
“No shit,” I mindlessly mutter out loud.
Both men laugh together, not even remotely offended.
My face threatens to shade the color of my pet. “Sorry…You’re just…very large.”
“And you’re very tiny. Like pocket size.”
Big Foot looks identical to Ford except slightly older in the face and a helluva lot taller. I’ve seen pictures of the other’s but this is the only one I’ve met face to face and definitely the only one he looks like he might’ve been cloned from.
His enormous arms fold across his solid chest. “No wonder Runt likes you so much. He gets to feel tall for once in his life.”
This time my eyes glance Ford’s direction to see his face reddening.
Huh. That’s two references about being interested in more than just friendship. Okay, so not two definitely because you could call your friend beautiful, but the likes you so much comment was about more…It has to be. Why else would his face look like a strawberry ready to burst?
“I’m Ollie,” I extend my hand for shaking. As his engulfs mine, I add, “And this little missy here is Princess Pinky.”
“Princess Pinky?” Big Foot tries to say without laughing.
Ford helplessly cringes at the pending ridicule.
He tosses his brother a playful look. “You let her name your hog, Princess Pinky?”
“He didn’t exactly let me.”
Big Foot gives me a crooked smirk.
“I named it and he just requested her last name be Shaw. We compromised.”
“Compromised?” Big Foot nods, still mockingly towards his baby brother. “New territory for you, Runt.”
“Will you just shut the hell up and check her out, please?”
He chuckles again, swallows whatever comeback was on the tip of his tongue, and questions, “What’s wrong with the hog?”
“She’s dying!”
“She’s not dying.” Ford rolls his eyes. “She might’ve eaten something she shouldn’t have. My money says she’s fine, but Ollie needs the reassurance.” He offers me a sweet smile before asking, “Can you check her out as a favor?”
“Yeah. But you owe me one. It’s bath night for the boys and because I’m coming home late, I’m in charge of it.”
Curiosity has my mouth run away from me again. “You don’t bathe your kids every night?”
Big Foot’s green eyes fill with mirth. “We just hose ‘em off most nights.”
My jaw drops.
The two of them laugh again at my expense getting a glare in return.
“We have a deal with the twins. If they shower without givin’ us hell, they are each allowed one night a week to have a bath instead. When they were real little, it would’ve been easier to give a bath to a frog than either of them, so we turned bath night into somethin’ special. There’s bubbles, battleships, and juice boxes. Basically, a party in the tub.”
“That’s really clever.”
“Didn’t Runt tell you I’m the oldest, most attractive, and the wisest?”
“With an ego the same size as you,” I tease getting chuckles out of both men.
He wags a finger at me. “You’re a keeper.”
I catch Ford pressing his lips together as if to stop his agreement.
Am I? Because shouldn’t you kiss a keeper or at the very least have an official date?
“I’m gonna take her into the back, just the two of us. Sometimes when animals sense their owner’s discomfort it feeds their urge to wanna overplay an injury or illness, just like children.” Big Foot gently transfers her into his arms. “I’ll take real good care of her. You two just sit tight.”
We nod and have a seat on the couch closest to the receptionist desk.
This is worse than waiting at the regular doctor’s office…What if she is dying? We’ve barely had her! If she does, will he stop coming over to see me? Will we get a new pet to share? Will we-
“Relax,” Ford softly states giving my lap a pat. “Stop worrying about her.” Before my mind can start wondering off again he informs, “Big Foot is phenomenal with animals. All kinds. Always has been. He was even better than Pop. When he was about ten, they say he announced he was gonna be a veterinarian and never let it go. In clinic he sees your typical shit, cats, dogs, the occasional snake, but he also makes house calls to many of the local ranches. He bought this property to build his own place and their house on. He never wanted to be far from his family if he didn’t have to be. We’re about twenty, twenty-five minutes from my parents and probably about three from his place. The boys love all the room to run around, plus with five dogs and 4 rabbits, and 2 cats, the extra space is probably a great thing.”
“Holy hell,” I snap, face now staring at his. “That’s a big ass family. How many kids do they have?”
“Together? Just the twins. But, Dawn had three boys of her own when they got together, so five total.”
Another surprised expression appears on my face.
“Big Foot loves those boys like they’re his own, cause to him they are. And none of us treat them any different either. As far as we’re all concerned, he accepted them as his own, which means so should we. They’re family. They deserved to be loved like such.”
“What about their biological dad?”
Ford shrugs. “Not real sure. He’s never popped his face in the picture and Dawn never brings him up. Only one of the boys even remembers him…”
Amazed at Big Foot’s open arms, but appalled at the idea anyone could just abandon children, I simply state, “They’re so much better off with a warm, welcoming family like yours than anywhere else…”
He lets the corner of his mouth kick up. “Would you like to meet the rest of them?”
“Your family?”
“Yeah.”
Fear over the fumbling embarrassment I would be on a much larger scale than I was just a few minutes ago fills my veins. “I don’t know…I mean…what if I say something else crazy or rude or stupid? Do you really want to take that risk? I’m really not good in large groups of people, Farm Boy. I’m as awkward as it gets.”
His head shakes. “You’re as amazing as it gets, Ollie. Learn the difference.”
He abruptly looks away and a thick, dreadful silence nestles between us.
I watch him stare at a spot on the ground, forehead wrinkled in sheer confusion.
My lack of self-esteem upsets him? Him?! Like he’s had to be the one who has spent her life ignore or picked on or spit on for being out of place? He has no idea what it’s like to have to find ways to deal with the fact I’ll most likely never be seen as anything else than a nerd with an okay chest to gawk at.
Quietly, I announce, “I don’t know the difference, Ford.”
He lets his eyes drift to me.
“You keep saying it and every time you do, I feel it might actually be the truth. But you have to understand, I have spent the majority of my life alone. Drawing, creating, those have always been my faithful companions. Daryl was a fluke I latched onto because I was so damn tired of being by myself. I’ve had three boyfriends my entire life and one best friend. Before Camilla people rarely even spoke to me in the office. They’d just email. So you have to be a little patient if you expect me to ever get comfortable with the idea of you wanting to be around me. Of you…wanting me at all.”
Ford’s green eyes fill with so much adoration I feel compelled to look away yet I don’t. “God, Ollie, if only you could see yourself through my eyes. You’d never doubt just how incredible you truly are.”
There’s a small pause followed with a bold question. “Then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
His mouth cracks open, obviously stunned my brazenness.
Definitely makes two of us.
He starts to form a reply yet abruptly stops. He repeats his action four times before I whisper, “I don’t have whiskey on my breath this time…”
Ford’s shoulders drop at the reminder.
Is it wrong to wish he would’ve kissed me that night? That instead of spending these past six weeks merely entertaining the idea, we would’ve been living it? Unless of course, the reason we haven’t is indeed because Camilla is right. He just wants to be good friends. Very good friends. I’ll take that deal I guess. I’d rather have part of Ford Shaw than none of him.
Finally, he sits up straight and begins, “I-”
“Got good news,” Big Foot interrupts swiftly stealing our attention. “You two have a constipated pig.”
Romantic…
My head tilts to the side. “Really?”
“Really.” He grins giving her a soothing rub on the head. “No fever. Not lethargic with me. She hasn’t been going as frequently today, has she?”
“No.”
“Yeah, my guess is the little princess is just a bit backed up. If you can get some apple sauce or canned pumpkin, toss a little in with her food, she should back to smelling up your patio in no time.”
The imagery causes me to gag, which makes Ford chuckle. Afterward, he gives our pet the gentlest touch. “You sure it’s not blockage, Big Foot? Did you give her an x-ray?”
He swings the pig away from his baby brother. “Are you seriously standin’ in my clinic askin’ me if I did my job?”
Ford doesn’t back down. “Did you?”
The low grumble is hard to miss.
“I don’t feel like you were in there very long. Did you do everything you should’ve? Did you check it all twice?”
“Runt, you are packin’ a pair on you tonight,” he grouses under his breath. “No. I didn’t put your young hog through the horror of an x-ray. I gave her an ultra sound. She’s fine. No blockage. No fever. No bizarre behaviors while I had her. And in case your ass has forgotten which one of us has the medical degree to determine if my job was done properly or not, let me redirect your attention to the goddamn wall behind you where my degree and my recently renewed license sit.”
He quietly states, “I didn’t mean any disrespect, Big Foot.”
“Some fuckin’ takin’, Runt.” The older brother lecture promptly continues, “You are my baby brother. I wouldn’t shaft a normal customer. Damn sure wouldn’t for family and least of all my baby brother who has asked for the least favors out of all of the Shaws, Oliver included.” He tries to calm his tone back to a controlled one and faces me. “Add the apple sauce or pumpkin to her food for a couple days. If the constipation remains or she stops pooping at all, bring her back. Doesn’t matter if it’s 2 a.m. Bring her back here. An untreated blockage could kill her.”
My head bobs in understanding as Princess Pinky wiggles joyfully back into my arms. “You ready to go home? Have some applesauce?”
Her squeaks steal a smirk from everyone’s lips.
“Oh shit.” I snap my head up at Ford. “We need applesauce.”
Big Foot lets out a small laugh. “You know what? We have a shit ton at the house. Why don’t you two just drive over, say a quick hi to Dawn and the boys, and take some of it with you?”
Ford’s face lights up yet he turns to me. “Do you mind? Or would you rather I just stop at the store on the ride home?”
The southern drawl twisted with the sweet pleading to get me sucked more into his world causes me to reluctantly cave. “We can swing by for a minute.”
Our ‘quick visit’ almost instantaneously transform into an extended one. For two hours, the boys take turns holding Princess Pinky, sneaking her treats she doesn’t seem bothered to be eating, and running around outside with her. Thankfully, there’s a fence around the area to keep me from having to worry too hard about her suddenly becoming a wild animal or a wild animal’s after dinner snack. While the boys play, we sit with Dawn who is pencil thin yet almost body builder muscular. Other than the brown eyes she’s seemed to given to all the boys and the speckles of freckles two of them have, there’s no other evidence she’s ever given birth. Like the rest of the Shaw family, she too is something science should study.
They offer us leftovers, which we both devour right alongside a starving Big Foot. He tells us how he skipped lunch, she nags how he didn’t skip lunch he just didn’t have a second helping, and we laugh at their sitcom like moments. Not once, even when the questions turn my direction, do I feel out of place or snubbed. It’s strange, but so wonderful. With each passing laugh and playful exchange, I understand more and more why Ford spends so much time around them. What the hell was wrong with Carol Ann? Who the hell could give up a family like this? And for what? A painfully pale man with a shorter than average dick and Oedipus complex? I think she might need to see a doctor…
Exhausted, I wiggle my feet out of my flats, stretch them out near his cowboy boots, and settle Princess Pinky into the seat beside me. She nuzzles her face on my thigh like a pillow only seconds before she’s completely knocked out.
Ford grins proudly. “I think she just needed a little extra attention.”
“Maybe…” Looking up at him I coo, “Your nephews were amazing with her.”
He nods. “They get that from Big Foot. From the minute he could get those boys around animals he did. Hell, the twins were only six months when he would take them to feed the goats. When I was a kid, it was him who taught me everything I should know about animal sounds…Mama would laugh but let him. I guess when you’ve got a parent willing to feed your passion it makes it easier for you to become one that does.”
The profound thought receives a warm smile of agreement.
Neither of my parents have life altering skills they went on to make a living with. Neither had wild dreams they can recall wanting to follow. Perhaps it’s why they let me go off and chase mine.
“I know you’re tired, but mind if I take the long way home?” He politely asks. “You can even fall asleep like Princess Pinky if you want.”
Not seeing a reason to prevent it, I shrug. “Sure…Go ahead.”
Ford pulls onto the dirt path leading off their property and onto the paved road. He fidgets with the radio, scanning for a mix for me to enjoy. When I suggest he plays me his favorite, he puts on a Luke Bryan playlist and proceeds to explain why. I stretch my arm across the console, rest my head on top of it, shut my eyes, and get lost to the sound of Ford crooning along. His deep voice drags itself across my skin until it’s burrowed into every crevice willing to accept it. Thoughtlessly my body sways to the rhythm, completely forgetting how uncoordinated I am. The car pulls up to what I imagine is a stop light and his fingers slip between mine. A sharp breath makes a haste appearance. To my surprise, he curls them tighter, forcing my somnolent stare up to him.
The light changes color returning his attention to the road.
Unsure of what this means to him, I impatiently wait for the answer.
I’m twenty-nine. Ugh. Fuck. Thirty…I know there are plenty of men and women who hold hands occasionally as friends. I just need to know if we’re one of them. I need to know what we are, so I know how to handle it. I have never dealt with this much uncertainty and I hate it. Much more accustomed to being ignored or rejected for simply smiling too long. That I can process no problem.
I slide my body carefully upwards insuring not to break the hold or disturb the snoring animal beside me. Once I’m completely sitting up, I’m startled at the completely empty town we’re in the middle of. “Where the hell are all the people?”
“Whole place basically shuts down around nine.” He answers cruising along at thirty. “Couple gas stations at each end of the town, and the movie theater we just passed, stay open ‘til midnight, but everything else? Closed.”
“That makes you happy?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?” I give the deserted sidewalks another glimpse. “Why does feeling like we’ve entered The Hills Have Eyes part 87 make you happy?”
“Well, when you’re dating the Sherriff’s daughter you’re less likely to get caught making out in an empty back parking lot since everyone is at home.”
“Classy.”
He tosses me a playful smirk. “Last girl I dated before Carol Ann.”
Her name instantly fills my mouth with a sour taste.
“That’s why I like to drive through this place. Reminds me of life before her. Before I started just settlin’ for whatever it was we were doin’. Before I had…given up on findin’ the right person.” He glides to another stop light. This time when our eyes meet he says, “Before I had to second guess every choice I made, including every time I’ve wanted to kiss you.”
My heart pounds harshly, like the bassline to the song I care barely hear any more.
“Once I kiss you Ollie Steele, I’m not gonna stop. I’m gonna kiss you when you’re happy. I’m gonna kiss you when you’re seein’ red. I’m gonna kiss you when it’s rainin’, when it’s snowin’, and when there’s a goddamn hurricane outside. I’m gonna kiss you when there’s whiskey on your breath…until it’s on mine.” His hand leaves the steering wheel to rest on my cheek, “Like I said, Ollie. Once I kiss you…I’m not gonna ever stop.”
Ford hesitates only a split second more before pressing his lips firmly against mine. The initial pressure ignites a sweet sigh, but when our lips part and our tongues lightly touch a strong moan is stolen along with all the air in my lungs. A groan of agreement slips out as he proceeds to reiterate his point with passionate press after press. My hand squeezes his tighter, eager for something to hold onto while being blissfully dragged away from the ordinary into the extraordinary.
Because that’s exactly what Ford Shaw is. Extraordinary.