Chapter 14
She missed the parade.
Oz looked so good with his rumpled hair and bare torso, and then he kissed her, and one thing led to another, and then they both fell asleep for two much-needed hours.
They woke at nine, by which time her niece was probably just beginning her march down West Church Street. While Oz showered she scrolled through a series of increasingly angry texts from her mom and sister, both of whom ignored her call when she tried their numbers. She texted something about oversleeping and turned her phone facedown on the vanity.
She heard the shower cut and shook her shoulders to loosen the familiar tension that always seemed to accompany her drives out to Jasper.
She was flattered by Oz’s offer to join her, but agreeing would’ve been an act of bravery unparalleled even in her long military career. There was no greater test of manhood than spending a day with the Mitchell succubi. Short-term agreement or not, she wasn’t ready to risk that he might run a mile when he saw the mound of dirt she came from.
She reflected on the previous night as she pulled clean clothes out of her dresser. He said he wanted her to open up, to show him who she was. Too bad she didn’t know who she was from one day to the next.
On one hand, she was glad they’d given in to whatever it was between them last night—glad everything was out in the open. She hoped they could grow closer, that he helped her define this new, post-Army version of herself.
On the other, who knew how he’d feel when the pressure of the last couple days subsided? Maybe this was all down to stress and hormones. Maybe the next time she saw him, he’d end this brief episode with a sentence from his arsenal of polite break-up lines.
And if that happened, she’d deal with it. She’d be disappointed that it came so early, maybe even a little heartbroken, but she’d been through worse before and would go through worse again. He wouldn’t be the first guy who wanted her sexually but withdrew from anything too emotional. She was used to it. In fact she expected it.
She liked Oz. She liked him so much it was beginning to stress her out, because she’d reached the point where it mattered whether he liked her, too, and whether he liked her to the same degree, with the same intentions, for the same length of time.
Foreign territory for a woman who’d spent so long in the no-strings-attached zone that she’d almost forgotten how to tie a knot. Exciting, unpredictable, but also scary. And despite laying out that she knew this would end eventually, an unlikeable, nervous part of her thought it might be easier if he simply walked away right now.
So she would roll with things, try not to censor herself or smooth anything over. She’d show herself to him, as much as she knew herself to be. If Oz’s interest survived, so be it. If not, she’d get out before she got deep enough to care.
Too late, a mutinous voice whispered in the back of her mind. She blinked it away, snatched up her comb and towel and hurried into the shower, where she tried to focus on the task ahead and not on the sharp, masculine scent of Oz’s shampoo that lingered in the tiny bathroom.
Kate ignored the incessant buzzing of her phone as she turned right onto a gravel road demarcated by two mailboxes on the corner. She passed a house on the left—Mr. and Mrs. Keener, retired poultry farmers who’d been old her whole life—and continued for another few minutes until she reached the rundown, two-bedroom ranch house where she’d been born and raised.
The property was as rough and shabby as always. Recent wet weather meant the lawn was overgrown and unkempt. A box air conditioner sat crookedly in one of the front windows, bracketed by pieces of cardboard. Toys littered the porch, a stack of unopened mail sat atop a lawn chair, and her mother had apparently converted a cracked lemonade jug into an outdoor ashtray. Judging by the level of cigarette butts piled inside, that e-cigarette system Kate bought her for Christmas was a big waste of money.
She parked behind her sister’s Sentra. The front door opened as she killed the engine and three generations of the Mitchell women of Jasper, Georgia appeared on the porch, lining up like they were in the opening credits of a dated and decidedly unfunny sitcom. Her mother, the fading beauty. Her sister, Emily, the beauty in bloom. And her niece, Dallas, innocence personified.
“Here we go,” she braced herself, stepping out of the car.
“You missed the parade,” Emily reminded her needlessly as she approached.
“I know. I’m sorry, baby.” She directed her apology to her niece, who wrapped her arms around her waist in greeting. “Did you have fun?”
Dallas shrugged. “It was okay.”
“She looked gorgeous.” Emily smoothed the little girl’s hair off her forehead, then raised her eyes. “So where were you?”
Kate smiled to herself, anticipating her mother’s and sister’s reaction. With anyone else she’d have to lie. But she knew they’d be delighted with the truth.
“With a man.”
Both of them erupted into whoops of delight, clapping their hands.
“This calls for a celebration,” her mother announced, gesturing for Kate to follow her inside. “Come help me carry out the drinks, then we want to hear the whole story.”
Fifteen minutes later they were lined up in matching rocking chairs, occasionally plucking fresh drinks out of a cooler filled with cans of beer, and juice boxes for Dallas, who turned cartwheels on the overgrown lawn.
“Sweden,” her mother repeated. “I never met anyone from there.”
“The women are supposed to be hot,” Emily supplied. “Not sure about the men though.”
“I can show you a picture,” Kate offered.
Her sister snapped her fingers. “We should’ve thought of that, of course you can—he’s famous?”
“Not, like, famous famous,” she clarified, pulling up Oz’s Instagram and passing over her phone. “Not like a football player.”
Emily made a thoughtful noise, squinting at the screen. She handed the phone to their mother, who also frowned at what she saw.
The porch was silent except for the creaking of the chairs as the three women rocked. Finally Kate asked, “So?”
“He’s definitely good-looking,” Emily decided, taking the phone.
“But he’s not your type, Katie,” their mother said. “He’s sort of…dark. Exotic.”
“European,” Emily added, looking pleased to have found that word.
“A fancy, big-city boy,” her mother elaborated. “I think we’re a little surprised, is all.”
“I was surprised, too.” Kate retrieved her phone, glanced fondly at the snapshot of Oz giving a thumbs-up in the changing room after a match, then switched off the screen.
Emily propped up her feet on the railing and stretched her long legs, bare beneath her super-short shorts. “So what’s the shape of this thing? Just for fun? Or are you guys getting serious?”
“And what about your job?” her mother chimed in.
“That is a potential complication,” she admitted, grimly realizing that with Rich muscling in on the account she’d have to work even harder to keep the affair hidden. She reached down and opened another beer, parking that stressful line of thinking for now. “As for the future, who the hell knows? We lead very different lives. We’re very different people. I don’t think it’ll go anywhere, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun in the meantime.”
Her mom raised her beer can. “I’ll drink to that.”
“Me, too.” Emily raised hers.
The three of them clinked beer cans, in silent agreement that when it came to men, anything could happen.
“Dallas! How many times have I told you to put these damn Barbies away?” Emily slurred her words as she chucked two of the dolls into a plastic tub. On the other side of the room her mother thumped the silent air conditioner, muttering profanities under her breath.
Kate scrubbed a hand over her eyes and shut off the television, which was blaring a movie she didn’t think was appropriate for Dallas anyway.
“Enough,” she declared, drawing the attention of her mother, sister and niece. “Everyone outside. The fireworks will start in a minute.”
Dallas happily skipped through the front door. Her mother and sister followed, giving her dark glares as they went. As usual the day had devolved into a mess of drunkenness and hostility, and Kate’s head pounded from the last several hours of heat, bickering and raised voices.
For a moment she paused in the empty house, gathering her strength. No matter how well her visits started, or how optimistic she felt for the first couple of hours, inevitably they always ended the same way: with a hangover.
At least they were all still on speaking terms, although it was only eight o’clock. Too early to get her hopes up.
Outside her mother fumbled with a lighter, attempting to fire up a sparkler for Dallas. Emily rocked rapidly in one of the chairs, shouting instructions.
Kate eased down beside her sister, cringing as their mother nearly caught the sleeve of her shirt with the flame.
“Can you write your name, honey?” she prompted Dallas, who waved her sparkler through the air. The little girl nodded eagerly, then moved the sparkler to trace a backward d.
When Dallas moved out of earshot Kate looked at her sister. “How are the extra reading lessons going?”
Emily shrugged. “All right, I guess.”
“Have you been taking her every week?”
“When I get into town.”
Kate exhaled her exasperation. “Those lessons aren’t free, you know—I paid for them. And you have to buy the whole session of eight, so I don’t get anything back for the ones you miss.”
“Get off my case,” her sister shot back. “You try holding down a job—”
“A part-time job.”
“Holding down a job and looking after mom and Dallas. We don’t all live the high life down in Atlanta, Katie. Some of us are just doing what we can to get by.”
Kate bit her lower lip, stifling a wave of useless anger. She’d had this argument at least twenty times and it never went anywhere. Emily always fell back on her story of the hard-working single mother, Kate countered by itemizing everything she paid for, and her sister and mother ganged up on her with their accusations that she mistreated them, was embarrassed by them, abandoned them out here on their own, both of them in tears, screaming and pointing fingers.
She didn’t have the energy for all that, not tonight. In fact every time she visited she found herself caring a little bit less whether their lives improved or even changed. Dallas was the exception, of course, but as for her mother and sister? The older she got, the less responsible she felt for their sorry-ass existences.
She was about to reach for another beer when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the screen, then hurried off the porch and around the side of the house as she answered.
“Hello?”
“Hello.”
“How are you?”
“Missing you.”
She smiled, Oz’s voice was sweet and warm in her ears. “Too bad, I’m having a great time without you.”
“Really?”
“No.”
“How’s the family?”
Kate peered around the side of the house. Her mom was in the middle of the lawn smoking a cigarette, Dallas waved a sparkler in each hand, and Emily’s face was lit up by the square of light from her phone, probably drunk texting her ex.
“They’re a mess,” she answered honestly.
He laughed, and she caught the faint strains of music in the background.
“Are you at Sean’s?”
“Yeah.”
“Having a good time?”
“I am. You would be too, if you were here.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Well, I’m here.”
She grinned into the darkness. “Someone’s confident.”
Background noise clouded the line, and when he spoke again his voice was low and conspiratorial, suggesting he’d moved somewhere more private.
“I’ve been thinking about last night,” he began, and she steeled herself for the rejection. As she suspected, he’d had some time and space and sleep and he’d decided this was just sexual, just chemistry.
“I’m in, Kate,” he told her firmly. “I’m into you, into us. Into this, as long as it runs.”
“I’m all in, too.” The words rushed from her mouth so quickly that she clamped it shut as soon as they escaped, terrified at what other secrets might pour out.
But she couldn’t take back those four words, and the warmth in Oz’s voice showed he heard every single one.
“Then I—”
Fireworks exploded overhead, bathing the property in multicolored light. She heard her sister, mother and niece cheering and squealing on the front lawn, and then Dallas called her name, summoning her to watch with them.
“Coming,” she shouted back. She pressed the phone against her heart and stared up at the lights bursting and fading in the sky, bright but ethereal, beautiful but so very far away.