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The Milkman by Tabatha Kiss (43)

Will

I’ve learned over the last several years that relationships aren’t black or white. They aren’t bad or good. No relationship in the entirety of human history has worked that way. Jovie and me included.

It’s a spectrum. When things were bad with Jovie, they were bad, stretching all the way out to the far left side of the graph. But when they were good, the pendulum would sway in the other direction. Two extremes, both equally as crushing and passionate as the other.

But, you know, Jovie’s passion is what drew me to her in the first place.

I walk down Ninth Street toward the house she grew up in. A breeze passes by but it’s not biting and cold as it was this morning. It’s warm and tender; an early tease of spring. Is it coincidence that it’s here just in time for mine and Jovie’s date? Probably, but I’m not one to question nature’s way.

No, I question people and I still have a few questions for Jovie Ross.

I reach her house and the front door opens before I have a chance to knock.

Jovie rushes out and closes the door behind her just as quickly. “Hey,” she says, flashing a smile.

“Hey…” My eyes trail down her little, black dress. It’s tight around her hips with deep red lines along the seams. I raise a brow, searching my memory as she slips her jacket over her bare shoulders. “Is that…?”

“Prom night, senior year.” She nods. “It’s the only thing casual date-like I had in my closet that still fits and doesn’t have sequins all over it. Honestly, what the hell were we thinking with all the sequins?”

“No idea.” I shrug.

“Oh, well.”

The door swings open behind her and Hank sticks his head out. His black eyes land on me and he frowns before retreating right back inside and slamming the door.

“I guess he remembers me,” I say.

“He never gave two shits about who I dated my entire life. Now, all of a sudden, it’s ‘where are you going? Why are you wearing that? Who are you hooking up with now?’”

“You think he might actually be worried about you?” I ask. “I mean, you were missing for a while…”

“Not to him. I sent postcards.”

I pause. “You did?”

She nods. “Every few weeks or so.”

“And you never thought to drop one in the mailbox for me?”

Jovie takes a serious breath. “Listen, Will… before we go any further here, we should talk about that.”

My chest skips with anticipation. Four years of waiting and wondering where she was. I might actually get some answers tonight.

“Okay,” I say.

She wets her lips. “I want us to start over with a blank slate.”

“A blank slate?”

“We’ve been through a lot together already,” she continues. “Things were said and done on both sides that we’d rather take back but we can’t unless we both agree to start over. We can’t make this work with the last few years hovering over our heads, right? I want to keep it in the past where it belongs and I…” she pauses, “I don’t want you to ask me where I was or why I left again.”

I remember what my mother told me. It’s none of my business until Jovie makes it my business. The more I reconnect with Jovie, the more I understand that… and the more I hate it, too. I’m not entitled to the answers I want and Jovie won’t give them unless she trusts me enough to let me back in. If starting over is a step in that direction, then it’s what I’ll do.

“Right,” I say. “That might be the best thing for us, I think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean… I’m not the same person I was back then and neither are you. We shouldn’t try to pick things up where we left off. We should start over and, if I’m being completely honest here, I’m really intrigued by new Jovie.”

Her cheeks blush pink. “What’s so great about her?”

I step closer. “Old Jovie never would have asked that question.”

She smiles. “That’s probably true.”

I extend my hand and she takes it. “Come on.”

“Where are we going? No Bolt?”

“No Bolt,” I say, guiding her down the sidewalk toward the center of town. “I figured we’d take advantage of this good weather. Start out nice and slow with a walk and talk.”

“Sounds good.”

“And then, you have choices.”

She feigns a gasp. “Oh, I like choices.”

“They’re playing Fahrenheit 451 at the library at eight.”

“Cool.” She nods.

“Or, we can take over a pool table at Lucky’s and I can hustle you out of your Pop Tart money.”

She cringes. “Eh, don’t mention money.”

I laugh. “Okay. No evil gambling tonight.”

“Thank you. What else?”

“Oh, William! Is that you?”

We halt our stride as Mrs. Clark cries out from her porch across the street.

“Yeah,” I say, waving. “Hey, Mrs. Clark.”

“Could you come here for a moment?”

I stay next to Jovie. “I’m actually in the middle of something right now…”

Her eyes shift between us. “It’ll only take a minute.”

Jovie shakes her head. “Just tell her no.”

I hesitate, trapped between the seductress beside me and being the helpful good ole’ boy I usually am.

I release Jovie’s hand and she tilts her head. “I’ll be right back. Just… hang on.”

I jog across the street to Mrs. Clark’s porch. She smiles with delight, deepening the wrinkles on her cheeks and brow.

“What can I do for you? Is something wrong?” I ask her.

She latches onto my arm. “My granddaughter is staying with me tonight,” she says. “I want you to come inside and meet her.”

I dig my foot into her porch. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I already have plans.”

“Oh, nonsense. Reschedule. She’s only here for one night.” She pokes her head into her door frame. “Lillian! Come here, please!”

I pull my arm free. “Mrs. Clark, I’m flattered. Really. You’re very sweet for thinking of me but I’m not interested in meeting your granddaughter—”

“Here she is!”

A young woman appears on the porch in jeans and a Kansas State sweater. Petite with blonde hair held back in a sloppy ponytail. She furrows her brow and her eyes bounce between us in confusion.

“What’s up, Grandma?” she asks. “Who’s this?”

Mrs. Clark beams brightly. “Lily, this is William and he’s—”

“Way too polite to tell your granny’s geriatric ass to mind her own damn business.”

I twist around to find Jovie standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Her arms are crossed and she pops one hip out in that stance saved for moments of attitude and I hesitate with an extreme rush of nostalgia.

Mrs. Clark’s jaw drops. “Excuse me?”

I rush down to take Jovie’s arm. “So, we really have to get going. It’s nice to meet you, Lillian. Thanks again, Mrs. Clark.”

Jovie smirks. “Remind me, Lillian, are you the granddaughter she publicly shamed for dating a black guy or are you the one she tried to send to gay conversion therapy? Or is that the same one? I haven’t been around in a while…”

“Jovie,” I tug on her elbow, “come on.”

Lillian’s lips twitch with a hidden smile. “The black guy.”

Mrs. Clark snaps at her. “Get back inside, Lillian.” She fires a hateful stare at Jovie’s smiling eyes. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Jovie Ross!”

“I really missed these neighborly chats, Mrs. Clark,” Jovie teases as I lead her away as fast as I can. “We should go to church together on Sunday. You and me, babe. I’ll save you a seat in the front pew. Oh, wait. Never mind. I’ll be too busy getting drunk and having premarital sex with dudes I found on the internet!”

The door slams, causing the knocker to pop up twice before it finally settles down.

I stare at Jovie on the sidewalk. “Holy shit.”

The shock melts off my face just as fast as it arrived, quickly replaced with a wide smile. This is Jovie, after all. Calling out bullshit was always high on her list of talents and favorite past times. I’d forgotten how much I missed watching it in real time.

“What?” she asks, shrugging. “She was out of line. No means no. You should learn to say it more often or people will walk all over you. Also, that girl was far from your type. Woman has no business setting people up.”

“And just what is my type?” I ask.

“Brunettes with long legs, big tits, pretty eyes, and a blatant disregard for authority.”

I pause. “Damn, that’s accurate.”

She smiles. “I know a few if you’d like their numbers.”

“No, thanks.” I take her hand again. “I’m good.”

“Your loss, then.”

Her fingers entwine with mine and I feel the gentle tickle of her thumb as it caresses my hand. We walk together down the street, drawing closer to the town square with each quiet step. Others have come out to take advantage of the nice weather, including a band of high school kids with a frisbee and other couples walking hand-in-hand like us. We continue on to the other side of the square, far away from the flying disc to find someplace to sit and talk.

My phone rings in my pocket as we reach a park bench. I pull it out and wince. “It’s Sara…”

Jovie frowns. “Don’t answer it.”

I hesitate. “Sara never calls. She’s more of a texter.”

“So?”

“So… it might be an emergency.”

She lets go of my hand. “Well, don’t tell her I’m here…”

“I won’t.” We sit down and I swipe the screen to answer. “Hey, Sara. What’s up?”

“Please tell me you’re sitting at home doing nothing right now,” Sara says.

I glance at Jovie. “Not exactly. Why?”

“I have an assignment due online by midnight and Andy is driving me nuts. Can he hang out with you for a few hours so I can get some peace and quiet?”

“Well… can’t you get Mom to take him?” I suggest. “She’s been begging to babysit more.”

“No, if he goes with her, then she’ll fill him with sugar and then he’ll be up all night.”

“So, just tell her not to give him sugar.”

“Will,” she whines.

“Sara, I’m sorry, but I’m a little tied up right now.”

“With what?”

“Just…” I pause, feeling a rush of rebellion as I gaze at Jovie’s defiant eyes. “No. I can’t help you tonight, Sara. Sorry.”

“Okay, but—”

I hang up before I hear the rest of her response.

Jovie leans in. “And how did that make you feel?”

I exhale a hefty weight. “Pretty good,” I answer.

“Welcome to the dark side, Will Myers,” she says, hooking into my arm. “We have high self-esteem and shiny, iron spines.”

I drop the phone back into my pocket. “I feel like that’s going backfire on me tomorrow.”

“Sara will get over it,” she says. “And she has options. Rachel and Dave can take the kid.”

I nod. “Right.”

My phone rings again and we groan together.

“Jeez, she’s awfully persistent,” Jovie says.

I slide it back out and pause. “It’s Tucker.”

“Oh.” She lightens up. “Tell him I said hi. And then, you know, piss off. We’re busy.”

“Hey, Tuck,” I answer.

“Can you be on-call for me tonight?” he asks.

I flex my jaw. “You want me to work the tow for you tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I’m, uh…” He feigns a cough. “I’m sick.”

I glare at Jovie and she raises an anti-bullshit brow. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a purposeful assault.

“Okay, Tucker,” I say. “What’s going on?”

He pauses. “What do you mean?”

“You know what. Why are people bugging me tonight?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking ab—”

“Tucker…” I deepen my voice. “I know all your secrets and where you live and so does Jovie — and you know what happens to men who cross Jovie Ross.”

“Okay, okay...” He sighs. “But you didn’t hear this from me.”

“Hear what?”

“It’s… well, after your very public display of affection earlier today, certain people across town kind of… created… Jovie Watch.”

“Jovie Watch?” I blink. “What the hell is Jovie Watch?”

Jovie extends her palm to me. “Will, give me the phone.”

I hold up a finger to make her wait but she snatches the phone from my hand anyway.

“Tucker—” she says into it, “what’s going on?”

I hold my breath, trying to hear the conversation but the look on her falling face tells me everything.

“Thanks, Tucker,” she says. She hangs up and hands the phone back to me.

“What’d he say?” I ask.

“Jovie Watch… is the town’s way of babysitting me.”

I blink. “Their what?”

“Yeah.” She crosses her arms. “Apparently, I can’t be trusted to be alone with you, so they’re going to follow us around and cock block us whenever they can.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m paraphrasing but that’s the general gist of what he said.”

I glance around the square, locking eyes with a few passing couples as they wander by. They all immediately turn away and pretend they weren’t watching as soon as they take notice.

“What the fuck?” I whisper.

Jovie shoots off the bench, silently steaming as she stares at everyone around us.

I rise up and lay my hand on her shoulder. “Jove, I—”

“I’m going home.”

She spins around and takes off across the square.

“Wait, Jovie…” I catch up to her with a few wide strides. “I don’t care what they think, okay? Screw ‘em. Just ignore it.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have come back here.”

My chest tightens. “Hold on—”

“Jovie Watch?” she says. “Jovie Watch?!”

Her voice echoes throughout the square, causing a few to look up and watch in a more obvious way.

“Okay,” I whisper, “if you don’t calm down then you’re only going to confirm what they think of you.”

“Good!” she shouts. “If loud, unhinged Jovie Ross is who they want, then that’s exactly who they’ll get.” She steps off the sidewalk and kicks the edge of a trash can. “There! Oooh, no! Better call the sheriff! Jovie’s gone amok!”

I stand still, watching her seethe until the color drains from her face and her breathing slows back to normal.

“Are you finished?” I ask.

“I haven’t done anything to these people…” She sighs. “Sure, I wore leather pants and I liked sex and motorcycles but I never hurt anybody. I never deliberately brought pain on anybody.”

“Except me.”

I regret it as soon as the words leave my mouth. Her eyes darken and she takes a step back.

“Will, I never did anything to purposefully hurt you,” she says.

“Then, why did you leave? I know I said I wouldn’t ask but, honestly, it’s pretty obvious that your silence isn’t to protect me — it’s to make yourself feel better about whatever the hell you did.”

She looks down. “I didn’t do anything.”

My guts churn. “Okay, look, Jovie…” I step forward and rest my hands on her shoulders. Thankfully, she doesn’t move. She stays still with her eyes down low. “Just answer this one question. Did you leave because of me? I need to know that much. Please.”

Jovie looks up and shakes her head. “No.”

“No, you won’t answer? Or no, it wasn’t me?”

“No,” she says again, “it wasn’t you.”

I lower my hands. “Thank you.”

My phone rings again in my pocket. I instantly tap the ignore button and throw it back in without checking to see who it is.

She scans the square again with shame in her eyes. “I’m going home.”

I walk with her. I can tell she doesn’t want me to but I do it anyway. I keep my eyes open, watching for anyone who dares stare at us. If I do make eye contact with someone, I glare even harder until they look away first.

Jovie Watch. Are they fucking kidding?

She’s absolutely right. Jovie never did a damn thing to hurt anyone here. She was rebellious and wild and never took shit from anyone but that doesn’t mean she deserves to live like a damn prisoner here.

We reach her house and Jovie pauses for one brief second. “Good night, Will,” she murmurs.

“Jovie—”

“Just go home,” she adds. “Or I’m sure Mrs. Clark will be around any moment with a sudden need for a cup of sugar…”

She picks up her pace and rushes inside without turning back.

I let her walk away. Even if I did follow her inside, I’d have Hank to deal with and he feels about me the same way the town feels about Jovie.

My phone rings three times during the walk between Jovie’s door and mine. I take a peek each time, just in case it’s her but it’s Sara twice and an unknown number once. I hold down the power to shut it off completely but the damage is already done.

I’m not sure if I’m more angry or humiliated. Jovie is definitely the latter. I’ve seen her angry face. I’ve seen the way the little vein above her eye protrudes outward during moments of quiet rage but that never happened tonight. She’s embarrassed and humiliated and I’ve never felt so helpless in my life. I want to go back and comfort her but it’s only a matter of time before someone shows up to intervene.

I won’t let this end without a fight. I’ve waited four years to see her again and I won’t let the people of this town bully her like this — and if I know Jovie Ross… she won’t either.

I kick off my shoes and head for the kitchen, wondering if I have any booze. I usually don’t like to drink much but there’s been a noticeable spike in frequency since she came back home.

A long, scratching noise halts me in the hallway. I pause, thinking that I’ve imagined it but it happens again, echoing out from my bedroom. I stand up taller, focusing my hearing until a human grunt touches my ear.

Someone is breaking into my house.

I shuffle on quiet feet, roll my hands into careful fists, and head toward the bedroom. There’s a baseball bat by my bed but that doesn’t really help me right now. I flex my jaw, take a deep breath, and peek into the doorway.

“Ow… Shit.”

I blink. “Jovie?”

I flick on the light and there she is, hanging halfway through my bedroom window.

My jaw drops. “What the hell are you doing?”

She groans. “My foot is stuck...”

I cross my arms and lean against the door frame, amused and intrigued by the cleavage begging to spill out of her dress. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Will...” She cranes her neck upward and huffs loudly. “May I have your assistance, please?”

I chuckle and step forward. “You know, I have a door.”

“Yes,” she says, clinging to my arms as I wrap them around her waist. “And the town probably has nanny cams set up right outside of it.”

“And your solution was... this?” I pull her through and she lands on her feet.

“Well, yeah.” She pushes her hair back and smiles. “I always used to climb in through your window before. Seemed appropriate now.”

“And no one saw you?”

She shakes her head. “I went out my back door and cut through about twenty lawns to get to yours. No one saw.”

“So... we’re alone?”

“Give it ten minutes,” she says. “If no one calls or bangs on the door with torches and pitchforks, then I’d say we have the rest of the night to ourselves.”

I stare into her shining, devious eyes. “Excellent.”