Chapter 8
STANDING IN FRONT OF THE mirror, I once again confirm I don’t have any hickeys. The last thing I need right now are big bruised suck marks on my neck. Shane swore he didn’t leave a mark but the way he was nibbling and sucking at my neck yesterday, I was sure he was mistaken. He wasn’t. Not a mark. He’s a professional neck nibbler. Lucky me. My phone chimes an incoming text message as I pull my hair into a ponytail.
Shane: You should bring that dress from dinner the other night.
Me: Why?
Shane: Because you looked beautiful, and I can’t stop thinking of you in it.
Me: You’re a charmer. Fine I’ll bring it, but I’m ordering dessert at dinner!
Shane: You’re a horrible negotiator. See you at 2.
After getting home last night, I was a little nervous asking Vera for time off. It seemed silly since I’m only here a few more days, but I feel like we’ve gotten into a routine and I’d hate to leave her in a bind. Not much of a surprise, Vera had no issue with me taking time off. In fact, when she found out who I was going with and that we were staying overnight, she offered for me to take multiple days off. I gave her a bit of the stink eye at that comment. One night will be just fine. Well, I mean I’m sure I’d have no problem enjoying multiple days and nights with Shane but that’s not smart if I’m leaving at the end of the week.
I was in the bathroom, washing my face when Vera followed me in and began spouting off bars and food places like they were her shopping list, insisting we needed to hit every single one during a girl’s trip next month. I reminded her I’d be living there so anytime she wanted to visit was perfect and made a mental note of each place she mentioned to see if they’re hiring. Vera’s response to my reminder of moving to Austin was a dramatic scoff and pivot away from me.
A quick glance to the clock and I rush from my room, only to meet Vera by the door. Grabbing my coat from the hook, I smile as she stands with one hand perched on the front door knob and the other on her hip.
“That’s all you’re taking to Austin? One baby suitcase?” Vera looks horrified at the concept that I have a small bag for a trip that is going to be less than twenty-four hours.
“Umm, yeah? It’s one night, Vera. I have something to change into after my shift if you’ll bring this stuff home with you, but otherwise it’s just a few outfits and some pajamas. I’m pretty low maintenance.”
“I guess. Shane likes that about you, I think. He likes that you’re easygoing and not all high maintenance. Good for you, Mercy. Let’s get a move on, we’re burning daylight.”
I step in front of Vera and through the door before stopping and looking at her. “Vera, thanks for understanding about the time off. You really do need to fill the position though. I’ll feel awful when I leave at the end of the week.”
“We’re living in the here and now, Mercy. No need to dwell on something we aren’t even sure is happening. Now let’s get a move on. Sam’ll have a fit if we’re late and he has to start the damn coffee.”
The morning and afternoon speed by and before I know it, I have less than thirty minutes before Shane picks me up. I quickly finish stocking the clean dishes before excusing myself to freshen up and change. Stripping off my work clothes, I put them in a small bag and use some body wipes I have to freshen up. I wasn’t sure how accurate Shane’s two-hour assessment of our drive was, so I opted to wear my favorite dark wash jeans and a plain gray T-shirt. Slipping on my cowboy boots, I feel a thousand percent better than I did just ten minutes ago. Looking in the mirror, I confirm my hair is a lost cause until I can shower later, so I pull my hair from the ponytail it’s in and retie it into a messy bun on top of my head. A knock at the door startles me as I swish a little mouthwash then spit it in the basin.
Once I’ve cleaned the sink, I open the door and am greeted by a very mischievous looking Vera. “What are you up to, Vera?” I ask.
“Nothing, sweetie. Shane’s here, and I’m so tickled you two hit it off. I had a feeling that first day but . . . well, never mind. Get to going, don’t leave the man waiting.” Vera shoos me from the restroom and I walk back into the diner to find Shane sipping on a large to-go cup with another in his hand.
“Hey,” I say in greeting as he smiles at me.
“Hey yourself. I had Vera make you a sweet tea to go. Are you all set?”
“Yep, my suitcase is by the door.” I motion toward the front door and watch as confusion mars Shane’s face.
“That’s it?”
“Why is everyone so damn confused by my luggage choices? Yes, that’s it. Now are we doing this or what?” I tease.
“You betcha. Let’s roll.”
Again, Shane and I sit in comfortable silence as he drives us out of town. He has a newer model truck with an extended cab. The seats are a soft leather that makes me want to curl up into a ball and nap. The satellite radio is on a channel playing everything from modern country to some classic rock, not unlike something I would listen to. I turn to ask Shane about his music choices when I see his hand sitting on the center console, palm facing up. I glance up to find him facing forward with a smirk on his face. Glancing down at his hand, his fingers wiggle as an invitation. I shake my head in disbelief and link our fingers as we continue our drive.
I’m lost in the scenery before me when I hear Shane speak, drawing me from my gaze out the window. “So, I have a question,” he states.
“Okay?”
“When we met that first day, you started to introduce yourself, but Vera cut you off and said your name. It didn’t sound like you were going to say your name is Mercy.”
“That isn’t a question,” I point out. Suddenly uncomfortable, I pull my hand from his and shift in my seat to face him. He looks at me with a raised brow. Okay, so my snark isn’t welcome right now. Noted. “Mercy is the name my mom gave me when I was born.”
Shane smiles and shakes his head before responding. “Yes, that’s usually how names go, our parents give them to us.”
“Don’t be a smartass,” I scoff. “I grew up in a small town and my whole life everyone knew my business. Sure, that’s small-town life, but it was more. I was the only Mercy and, for that reason, anytime I did or said anything it was followed by my name. I longed and dreamed of being a Michelle or Lisa. I even tried to tell everyone I changed my name to Nicole. That didn’t go over well.” Shane laughs at my still evident frustration.
“I get that. I mean, I was the only Shane in high school. When I was in grade school, there was another kid with the same name, but he spelled it with a “Y.” So that’s what everyone called him: Shane with a Y. Poor kid.”
“See, you get it. Anyway, when I left town I decided I wanted a fresh start. My middle name is Elizabeth, and I chose to go by Beth. That’s who I’ve been the last few years.”
“Beth,” he says slowly like he’s saying it for the first time. “I like it. But, I think you’re a Mercy through and through.” Shane grabs my hand, lacing our fingers again.
I want to argue his point. I want to tell him he doesn’t know who I was before coming to Mason, and he is in no position to determine whether I’m more fit to be called Mercy or Beth. But, he’s got a point. Becoming Beth was so much a part of me putting a distance between myself and small-town life. Then I settled into a town that was in no way big by city standards, and the name didn’t make me who I was there. Just like Mercy doesn’t make me the person I am here or the person I was growing up. I’m just me, Mercy Elizabeth Warner, and here with Shane, Mercy seems just fine.
Silence fills the cab as I contemplate how much of myself to share with Shane. I feel myself wanting to open up to him more but I’m afraid. Getting too close to Shane and the other people of Mason is not part of my plan and it won’t do me a bit of good.
“Well,” I begin, “I’m not sure what you mean by me being ‘a Mercy’.” Shane shrugs and I audibly sigh in frustration before I continue. “I was eighteen, and a new identity seemed like a reasonable step when I left home. I knew for months that when I was old enough I was leaving town; I needed a clean slate. I needed to go somewhere nobody knew me, where I wasn’t judged for the hand-me-downs and thrift store clothes. When I changed my name, I became the person I always believed I was supposed to be. But you’re right. I am Mercy. I’m beginning to understand that I can be both. I’m not embarrassed of who I was or even who I am now.”
Shane pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses the back of my hand. Shivers skirt my skin like they do anytime he kisses me. With Shane, it doesn’t matter if it’s a simple kiss to the back of my hand or a toe-curling, full-mouth kiss. He makes me feel more than I have in a long time. If ever.