ACE
It’s an unseasonably warm day in Ohio for November. Growing up here, fall was one of those times of year when it seemed like Mother Nature couldn’t make up her mind if she wanted to freeze Ohio’s residents to death or cause them to run up their electric bills by cranking up the air conditioning. Today seems like she’s doing the latter.
Sweat drips down my back as the afternoon sun beats down on me. After a solid couple of weeks of mowing the grass around the trailer park, I’m finally on the last section of weeds.
After a couple more swipes I’ve managed to cut all the nearly knee-high grass around the place, and I feel good knowing that’s the last time Iris will have to worry about it until next spring.
I cut the engine on the mower and then grab the hem of my T-shirt and bend to wipe the sweat from my face with it.
“Honey, come on over and get you a glass of lemonade. You’ve been working hard,” an older female voice calls to me.
I glance up and notice a heavyset, gray-haired woman sitting under the metal awning attached to the front of her trailer. I guess you could consider it as being a porch. It’s the trailer that I’ve learned over my short time here belongs to Birdie’s grandmother.
The lady stands and goes to the pitcher sitting on the table next to her and grabs a red plastic cup from the stack sitting next to it.
When I don’t immediately head toward her, she glances in my direction as she pours another glass of lemonade. “Well, come on.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I chuckle at her bossiness, and it reminds me of my mom and the way she never gave me a choice in the matter if she thought whatever she was ordering me to do was in my best interest.
The moment I approach her, she holds the glass out to me and smiles. Deep wrinkles set around her eyes and face tell me time hasn’t been kind to her, but her pale blue eyes have a pleasantness about them. She’s wearing a pair of worn jeans that appear to be so thin that they could tear any moment. The shirt she’s wearing is the same way.
Even though she seems to practically have nothing, she’s still willing to share with me what little bit she does have in the form of this homemade lemonade.
I smile as I take the cup from her. “Thank you.”
I take a sip and her warm smile widens, clearly pleased that I’m enjoying my drink. “You’re welcome. I’m Adele. I haven’t had a chance to meet you yet, but I’ve heard good things about you from Iris.”
I lift my eyebrows in surprise to learn that Iris still has nice things to say about me even though I treated her like a complete dick.
I don’t reply to that statement from Adele and simply nod in response, but that doesn’t stop her from going on.
“Iris is a good girl, stubborn, but good,” Adele adds, and I laugh.
“I’ve noticed,” I say as I smile and think about how persistent she has been with me.
Adele sits back down in the rocking chair she was in while I was out mowing and motions to the other wooden rocker beside her. “In my opinion there’s nothing wrong with a woman to have some determination about her. Most people ’round here thought she was foolish for taking off to New York City to follow her dream, but not me. I’m downright proud of her for doing that—not allowing herself to get stuck in this little town like the rest of us did.”
She sighs. “I envy that she was brave enough to do that. I wish I had her guts when I was her age. Maybe then I would’ve seen more of the world than just what Ohio and West Virginia had to offer.”
“You’ve never been outside of those two states?” I ask, amazed that she’s allowed herself to be confined so much her entire life.
Adele shakes her head. “Nope. I was born in West Virginia and I met Earl when I was just fifteen, got married when I was sixteen, and we moved here to Ohio so he could get a job. I’ve been here ever since, but I don’t regret putting roots down. There’s a lot to be said about knowing people in the place you live. Take Iris’s grandma, for example. Gee-Gee and I were the best of friends since I moved here in the late seventies after Earl passed. We helped each other raise our girls, and then when they each had a girl of their own and decided they no longer wanted to stick around and be mothers, we raised their kids.”
I take another drink as my curious brain begins wondering if Iris’s mother was like mine—too into partying to be a mom. “Whatever happened to Iris’s mom?”
Adele curls her fingers under the front of the armrests as she continues to rock in a slow, steady rhythm. “She passed when Iris was about six from a drug overdose. They found her in a bathtub in a hotel somewhere in Florida.
“I worried about Iris for the longest time. Poor thing was heartbroken over her mother. I just thank the stars above that Gee-Gee had already been raising Iris from the time she was in diapers or she might not’ve turned out so great. That can really mess a kid up, you know, watching your mother sink into a downward spiral.”
Isn’t that the truth? I know far too well about that scenario.
Adele waves her hand dismissively. “Enough about all that sad stuff. I want to know more about you. Where’re you from and what’s your story?”
I laugh, knowing there’s no way to get around giving this direct old woman information. “I grew up in Columbus. I didn’t have a biological mother either, she was a lot like Iris’s mom, I guess, but thankfully I was removed from her care and eventually placed with the woman I consider to be my mother.”
“Ah.” She nods. “A foster family. How’d that work out for ya?”
I shrug. “At first I was sent to live with some people who simply looked after orphaned children for the money and didn’t have their best interests in mind. Those homes—they weren’t pleasant in the least, but when I was twelve I met Sarah, and she was the first person who ever took an interest in helping me cope with the loss of my biological mother and refocus my emotions in a positive way.”
“How’d she do that?” Adele asks.
“By showing me that I was an intelligent kid with a future, and she also pushed me to discover my creative side.”
Adele smiles, clearly pleased with my answers. “So you’re attractive, smart, and an artist. I can see why our little Iris has taken a shine to you. If I were a few years younger . . .” She cackles. “You should do right by her, you know. She’s a good girl.”
“I know that,” I say in a low voice. “That’s why I’m keeping my distance. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Son.” Adele leans forward and pats my knee. “You’ll hurt her more if you don’t tell her how you feel and give whatever’s going on between the two of you a chance.”
My lips pull to one side as I consider what she’s saying. Maybe she’s right. I do want to be with Iris more than anything right now. She may accept the fact that I’ve hidden my identity from her fairly easily. Hell, she might even be okay with going on the run with me if Jane Ann and the media get too close on my trail. She might be willing to be my Bonnie if I ask her.
It’s almost as if just by sitting here with Adele and talking, I see things a little clearer. I need to open up with Iris, tell her about me, and then give her the chance to decide for herself if she can handle everything that comes with being with me.
Just then I spot Iris in the window of her trailer, watching me as I sit next to Adele. There’s an odd expression on her face, like she’s doing more than just looking at me. It’s more like she’s studying me . . . like she’s seeing me for the first time.
I haven’t spoken to her since that day out in the shed. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like that, but I know that if I get too close to her again, I won’t be able to maintain my resolve.
A shiny, black older-model BMW pulls up out front of Iris’s and Adele’s trailers and honks the horn, jerking my attention away from the conversation I was just having. A tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a tan suit gets out of the driver’s side and then buttons his jacket with one hand and raises the other in greeting when he spots Adele and me sitting outside.
“Hi, Tanner! How are you?” Adele waves back and then whispers to me, “I can’t stand that little snake.”
I hold back a laugh as Adele continues to smile at the man, because I don’t want to give away her true feelings about him.
“I’m great, Adele. You look fantastic.” He points to Iris’s place. “Is she home?”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I can tell from a mile away that whoever this dickhead is, he’s as fake as a fucking three-dollar bill.
“I’m not sure,” Adele replies, but we both know Iris was just watching us through the window.
For whatever reason, Adele isn’t willing to give this guy info like she just did me. Must mean she likes me.
Just then, Iris walks around her trailer. The sight of her nearly steals my breath every time. She’s not wearing anything fancy, just her typical jeans and T-shirt, but I’ll be damned if she doesn’t make it the sexiest outfit known to mankind.
The woman looks great in anything she wears.
“Iris,” Mr. Fake says with a sly grin on his face, and I’m not sure if it’s the abundance of gel in his dark hair or the grin that makes me determine he’s a prick, but I’ve already made my judgment about him. “Wow. You look . . . wow. It’s so good to see you.”
Iris folds her arms across her chest. “What do you want, Tanner? I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you again.”
“Baby . . .” Tanner takes a step toward Iris and my back stiffens.
The thought of this guy touching her is enough to make me grit my teeth. Adele must sense it, because she pats my knee again and whispers, “Stay calm. She’ll handle him. Stubborn, remember?”
I give her a small nod and attempt to relax in my seat with no luck. When it comes to Iris, the protector in me gets out of control really quick. I’m not sure if it’s because in my heart of hearts I know I’m the one who’s meant for the job or if it’s because I know for a fact that she’s alone on this earth like me.
“Don’t baby me. You don’t get to call me that.” Iris holds up her hand and Tanner stops in his tracks. “You have exactly five seconds to tell me why you’re here before I call the cops and file a restraining order.”
Adele cackles beside me, delighted by Iris’s feistiness, and it makes me smile too.
He rubs the back of his neck. “Jesus, Iris. I said I was sorry about before. Aren’t you ever going to forgive me?”
“No. You’re an asshole. Two seconds, Tanner,” Iris warns.
He sighs. “I did come on business. I’m the new county tax auditor, and Gee-Gee was nearly four years behind on paying the property taxes on Willow Acres. I hate to be an asshole, seeing as how you just inherited the place, but it’s my job to tell you that you have thirty days to get them paid before the state begins the process to take possession of the property.”
“They can’t do that!” Iris argues. “I need more time than that.”
Tanner frowns. “If I could give you an extension, I would, Iris. You know how I feel about you.”
“Damn it,” Iris grumbles as she shoves her hand into those thick, flowing locks of hers and pushes them away from her face. “Where would all these people go? Tanner, please. You know I’ll figure out a way to pay it. How much is it in total?”
“It’s twenty thousand dollars, Iris. There’s no way you can come up with that.”
Adele gasps beside me while grasping at her chest and staring up at the sky. “Oh dear Lord in heaven. How could you not tell me it was that bad, Gee-Gee?”
The thought flows through my head. Twenty thousand would save this place? I could go withdraw the money from my account, but I know as soon as I do, Jane Ann will have her spies everywhere and she’ll find me in no time.
But if Iris and the good people like Adele who live here need it in order to keep their homes, I’ll do it.
Iris scrubs her hands down her face and Tanner wraps his fingers around her wrists and pulls them away. Instantly, I feel the jealous twinge that he gets to touch her when I can’t. “Iris, come to dinner with me. We’ll talk things over and figure this thing out together.”
She jerks out of his hold. “Don’t ever touch me again. You lost the right to do that when you decided you couldn’t keep it in your pants. There will never be a ‘we’ or a ‘together’ involving us ever again, Tanner. Never. Get that through your head. When I said I was done, I meant it. I’ve moved on.”
My jealousy turns to absolute selfish delight when I hear her speak those words, because I can’t help but be elated that maybe it’s me she’s talking about moving on with.
Tanner swallows hard. “Fine. But you don’t have to make it so rough on yourself, Iris. Call me when you come to your senses and want to take me up on my offer to help.”
“Never going to happen. Now, leave.” The stern expression she’s wearing could rival any hardball music mogul who is trying to negotiate a deal any day, and I love it.
But above all else, I feel there’s still hope that she’ll give me a second chance to prove that she can trust me. I want to be the one that she allows to help her.