Free Read Novels Online Home

The Milkman by Tabatha Kiss (39)

Will

Don’t wait for me.

I stare at the dark blue ink on wide-ruled paper, just barely making out the letters beneath the dim lights above Lucky’s bar.

“Dude,” Tucker nudges my arm, “you need to stop gawking at that thing.”

“Not until I figure out what it means.”

“It’s meaningless!” he shouts, a slight slur in his speech. “It has no meaning.”

I lay the note down and press it out flat. “Jovie wanted me to see this. She wanted me to know she was leaving town. Why?”

Tucker waves his arms. “Because she wanted you to hop on your valiant steed and chase her through the countryside!”

“You think so?”

He slaps his forehead. “No! I don’t think so! I think Jovie snapped, she packed a bag, and she took off, but she didn’t want you doing exactly what you’re doing right now.”

I pick up my beer. “Which is?”

“Being a total freakin’ buzzkill.”

My mind wanders back in time to replay the events again, just like I’ve done a thousand times already since last night. “I asked her to marry me.”

Tucker flinches in my direction. “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“The day before she left.” I scan the decorations above the bar. Pink hearts and shiny, red ribbons. “On Valentine’s Day, actually.”

His mouth sags. “What did she say?”

“She said no,” I say. “Or, I thought she did. That’s how I interpreted it at the time but now I’m not so sure.”

“What didn’t you understand?”

“Last night, she said she didn’t say no. She just needed a few days to think about it but that’s not how it should be, right? It’s supposed to be a gut response. Yes, I love you enough to spend the rest of my life with you, or no, I don’t.”

“And you expected Jovie Ross to answer that on the spot?”

I shrug. “Yeah.”

“Dude…” He shakes his head while pouring half his bottle down his throat.

“What?” I ask.

“No wonder she dumped you.”

“She didn’t dump me.”

He furrows his brow. “You broke up with her?”

“Yeah, the next day.”

“I thought it was the other way around.” He twists on his stool to face me. “You’re telling me you asked my cousin to marry you and then took it back the next day? I feel a compelling urge to kick your ass right now.”

“It wasn’t that simple, all right?”

“Enlighten me, then. Complex this shit up or we’ll take this outside.”

I laugh at his stiff expression. “You know, I almost believe you, Tucker.”

He relaxes. “I’m mostly serious.”

I nudge the paper in front of me. “Even with this, I feel like there’s a piece of the puzzle still missing. I always assumed Jovie was angry and that’s why she left. If that were true, then she never would have left this, right? She would have wanted to leave me hanging and she wouldn’t have cared how I felt about it. Right?”

“I don’t know,” Tucker says, trying to take another drink from his empty bottle.

My eyes drift to the table-for-two in the corner behind us. “We shouted and argued with each other, almost like no time had passed at all.”

“Sounds awful.”

“No, it was just the opposite. I mean… think about it, Tuck, if Jovie and I fight with the same passion as we used to, then that means that everything else about us is still there — just waiting beneath the surface to be reignited in some way.”

“You’ve lost me, man.”

I stare at my reflection across the bar. “This isn’t over.”

“Damn right, it’s not!” He belches. “This night is just getting started. Yo, Lucky! Can we get two more?”

I silently shake my head, basking in the sudden clarity and wisdom until a vibration rattles my pocket.

I reach inside for my phone, curious to see who’s calling me at this hour. “It’s Marv,” I read aloud.

Tucker’s face screws up as I answer it.

“Hey, Marv.”

“Hey, Will,” he says. “I just got a frantic call from Lola down the street. Says she saw some hooded bastard breaking into the shop. Can you go check it out?”

I squint. “Why aren’t you calling the police?”

“Because the local cops are idiots.”

“And why can’t you go check it out?”

“Just do it, Will. You live closer. I’m busy.”

I open my mouth to explain how many drinks I’ve imbibed tonight but he hangs up before I can speak. I grunt with annoyance and gesture to the exit.

“Tuck, let’s go.”

“Go where?” he asks.

“Marv says there’s been a break-in at the shop. Wants us to check it out.”

He stares at me. “But I’m drunk.”

“I know.”

“And so are you.”

“I know that, too.”

“Okay!” He slides off the stool and grins. “This should be fun.”

“Hey, Lucky!” I shout over the bar. “We’re taking off.”

She calls out from the back room. “Your tab’s getting awfully high, Myers!”

I laugh. “I’ll take care of it soon, I promise.”

Tucker and I stumble outside into the cold. I shiver and zip up my jacket.

“Want me to drive?” Tucker asks, fumbling into his pocket for his keys.

“Hell no. We’ll walk it.”

“But it’s cold.”

“We’ll live, man. It’s like three blocks.”

We stumble back into town, whistling and humming to keep ourselves warm.

“So, Valentine’s Day, huh?” Tucker asks as we reach the town square.

“Yeah.” My teeth chatter. “What about it?”

“It’s just…” he chuckles. “You’ve always hated it. Makes sense now why.”

“Well… Valentine’s Day was always a really horrible time for me and Jovie.”

“Why?”

“Something bad always happened on Valentine’s. Something would trigger one of us off and we’d have a huge fight. Usually over absolutely nothing at all but it was like clockwork.” I pause to kick a can off the curb. “That year, I wanted to get ahead of it and do something I never thought would start a fight. Turns out, I was very, very wrong.”

Tucker sighs but says nothing more as we cross the street toward the shop. He slows to a crawl and slinks over to the windows to peek inside.

“See anything?” I ask.

“Nah.”

I take a look myself. Shadows cover every inch of the place, lying along the cars and parts scattered on every bench.

I pull at the entrance door and it slides right open.

“That was locked before,” Tucker points out.

We walk in and I close it behind us. I tap the flashlight on my phone to illuminate my path and Tucker does the same. I point to the left, signaling that I’ll take this side and Tucker nods before shuffling away toward the opposite wall.

I stiffen up in the darkness, ready to pounce on any attacker who dares take me on.

Bring it on, murderers and thieves. I’m Will freakin’ Myers.

“Will,” Tucker whispers. “Over here.”

I flinch but quickly relax to hide it. “Where are you?”

“Over here.”

“Where?”

“Just get over here, Will.”

I follow his voice in the dark to find him standing beside Jovie’s little, blue car.

“What is it?” I ask.

He gestures into the window and I look inside to see Jovie lying across the backseat. Her backpack is stuffed under her head like a pillow. She’s wrapped up in her coat with the hood barely covering her head. Her eyes twitch, deep in slumber.

I tap my flashlight off, feeling instantly sober. “Tuck, call Marv. Tell him it was a false alarm.”

“And what are you gonna do?”

“Just do it, man.”

He lowers his light, hesitating for a moment before nodding. “All right.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, keeping a concerned eye on Jovie.

Tucker walks off slowly. As he approaches the garage exit, I hear him talking into his phone and the door slides closed.

I watch her sleep and suddenly remember the last time I did. It was a cold night in February. I’d already bought the ring I planned to give her. I sat at my desk, trying to come up with the perfect way to propose to her, when I heard the knock on my window. There she was, standing outside with tears in her eyes.

‘Hank,’ she said.

I let her inside and she curled up in my bed like a shaking cat. I spent the night with one eye on her and another on my door just in case anyone decided to come walking in without knocking. She snuck out with the sunrise the next morning. I never did get an explanation but I never got the chance to ask for one either.

I reach out and tap twice on the window.

Jovie shoots up instantly, her sleepy, panicked eyes firing off in every direction.

“Jove, it’s me,” I say. “Open up.”

She lays a hand over her heart and exhales. “Fucking hell, Will…” she gasps before sliding over and popping the lock.

I open the door and lower myself onto the backseat.

“You scared the hell outta me!” She slaps my shoulder and scoots back to make extra room for me.

“And you scared the hell outta Lola down the street.”

She yawns. “That old bitch is still alive?”

“One more good fright like this might do it, I think,” I joke, closing the door behind me. “What are you doing in here?”

“Sleeping,” she answers.

“Right. Why?”

She laughs and rubs her neck. “Hank.”

“He kicked you out?”

“He got drunk and decided the extension on my rent he already agreed to give me wasn’t legally binding, so I walked out to let him sleep it off.”

“He’s charging you rent?”

“Seventy-five bucks a week. I figure he won’t remember the fight tomorrow. Never did before.” She buries her nose in her jacket. “Ugh, I can still smell his booze on me…” She pauses and leans over to sniff me. “No, wait. That’s you.”

“Tuck and I were having a few drinks when Marv called about someone breaking into the shop. You’re lucky he called me and not the police.”

She rolls her eyes. “No one’s gonna arrest me for sleeping in my own property.”

“Which is housed on private property.”

“Still better than a park bench.”

I scoff. “Jesus, Jove…”

She frowns. “Why are you being such a tool about this?”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“You?”

“Yes, me.”

“Why would I call you when I have casa de la Ford here?” She pats the back of the seat. “It’s suited me plenty before.”

I pause, my mind once again hammered with unaskable questions as to where the hell she’s been for four damn years.

I pop the door open. “Come on.”

“Really, Will. I’m fine. I’ll get another few hours here and then I’ll sneak out before Marv opens in the morning. Easy peasy.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. Come on.”

She heaves a sigh but shuts up and grabs her bag. We weave through the dark garage, moving in total silence as I lock up the shop behind us and hit the sidewalk.

I turn off the square onto First Street and Jovie finally speaks again.

“Where are we going?”

“My place,” I answer.

"You live on First Street?”

“Yes.”

She chuckles. “Remember how we used to TP this entire street every Halloween?”

“Yes.” I smile. “And the kids still do that, by the way.”

“Really?” Her smirk widens.

“They call it a Jovie, as a matter of fact.”

She pauses her stride. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“They named a delinquent holiday tradition after me?” she asks, clenching her chest.

“You certainly left an interesting legacy behind ya, Jove,” I say.

“Wow.” She picks up her pace to catch up with me. “This pleases me.”

We reach my house and Jovie follows me inside. She hovers in the living room, her eyes calmly scanning everything as I gesture around.

“Living room,” I say. I point to the hall. “Kitchen to the left, bathroom straight ahead, bedrooms on the right.”

She nods once before moving to set her backpack down on the sofa.

“No,” I tell her. “You take my room. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, Will. I’ll be fine here.”

“I don’t want you to just be fine. You’ll take my room.”

“I’ve been enough of an annoyance tonight.”

I clench my jaw. “Jovie, I just found you sleeping in your car and, according to you, it’s not the first time you have. My instinct right now is to comfort you and the only way I know how to do that is by providing you with a warm bed, some food, possibly a shower, I don’t know—”

“Will, stop.” She stands off the sofa. “Okay. I’ll take your room.”

“There’s plenty to eat,” I add. “Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge.”

“I’ll probably just go to sleep. I’m not hungry.”

“Well, for the morning, then.”

She steps closer and pauses in front of me. “Thank you, Will.”

I gaze down at her downturn face, feeling those instincts tug toward something more but I keep my hands to myself. “You’re welcome.”

She takes another step but I shift in front of her.

“Jovie, I know we’ve been through a lot but I don’t ever want you to think you can’t come to me when you need help,” I say. “My door is always open to you.”

She looks up and nods. “I know, it’s just…” Her voice fades off but the missing words are obvious.

“I know,” I say. “But still.”

Jovie continues down the hall and disappears behind my bedroom door. It latches closed, blocking me out, but I’d rather there be only one door between us than the thousand there were before.

At least now I know she’s safe and taken care of but she’s not out of the woods yet. She’s in deeper than I thought if she can’t handle seventy-five bucks a week in rent — but don’t get me started on how badly I want to pummel Hank right now.

Whatever she’s been up to, it didn’t involve a savings account and she’s still too stubborn to ask for help.

I sit down on my couch and kick off my shoes with one protective eye focused on the hallway. I slide a hand into my jacket pocket and feel for the folded-up note stuffed inside. I wish I could follow Tucker’s lead and believe that it’s meaningless but I can’t. Not yet, anyway.

If Jovie won’t ask for help, then that’s fine. I’ll make sure she never has to. She won’t like it, but…

I’ll make it convincing.