Authors: Sara Fawkes
“There’s also a lot of masks, although I never noticed that until I came here.” He frowned, as if struggling how to explain it. “You never really know who a person is, even if you live or work around them every day. There’s a need to portray a certain image, to be a certain way. Fashion plays a big part, but it’s more than that. Even in conversations, if you’re not talking about the right things, then you’re insignificant in certain situations. If you don’t want the right things, then you’re nobody.”
That didn’t sound all that fun to me. I peered at him, realizing there was something deeper in his words than just my answer. “So what do you want?” I finally asked when the silence stretched on too long.
My question woke him out of his thoughts, and he gave me a sheepish smile. “To try new things, not be forced down roads I’d rather not take.” He cocked his head to one side. “What about you? What do you want to be when you grow up?”
He said it with a smile, but the question resonated in me for some reason. I thought for a moment. “I don’t know,” I said finally, staring at my nails. “Once I wanted to be a veterinarian, then when my piano lessons took off I wanted to be a concert pianist.”
“Well, why don’t you go for one of those?”
I shook my head. “It’s been years since I’ve so much as looked at a piano, and I know I wouldn’t make it through all the schooling to become a vet.” I sighed and blew out a breath. “I don’t even know what I want anymore.”
“Well, if you could do anything, go anyplace, what would it be?”
“Get out of here.” I didn’t even have to think about that one. “Be any place but this little town.”
He looked like he wanted to say more, when Meg appeared with two baskets in her hand. “Here’s yours, darlin’,” she said to me, handing me the smaller sandwich, “and here’s yours, babycakes. Enjoy.”
Everett stared at the sandwich before him. My mouth was watering from the smells alone. “You ever eaten fried oysters before?” I asked, gathering together the thick sandwich. “Well, whatever you do, don’t look at them. Just enjoy the taste.”
“You know that’s not very comforting,” he said drolly as I bit into my sandwich, but I was too hungry to answer him. He picked up half his sandwich gamely and took a bite. His eyebrows shot up as he chewed, and for a few minutes we ate in companionable silence.
“Good, huh?” I said as I finished my half sandwich.
“Amazing,” he said through a full mouth, then grinned. “Just like the view.”
He was looking at me when he said it, and the comment caught me off guard. I couldn’t think of a response just then so I took another bite of my sandwich.
“So what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” he asked between bites.
“I need to go pick up my little brother from school at three o’clock, so I should probably head home to pick up my mom’s car.”
“Why don’t you have a car? Wouldn’t it be easier?”
“Well,” I hedged, and then looked at his ratty mode of transportation. He’d probably understand better than most. “Right now my vehicle isn’t working all that well.”
“Vehicle? Way to be cryptic.”
I just grinned. “She’s my pride and joy, but right now she’s up on blocks.”
“Is there anything I can help with?”
“Dunno, you ever rebuild a transmission?”
“No, but Trent can.”
I mulled that information over. Riding the bike was getting old; I could only go so far, and being stuck in such a small area as Oyster Cove was beginning to chafe. “Yeah, see how much he’ll charge,” I said finally, sliding out of the booth. “It’s an old automatic Ford, shouldn’t be too hard.”
“I’ll ask. So, tomorrow then?”
“Four o’clock tomorrow sound okay?”
“Cool. I’ll pick you up.”
“No, I’d rather—”
Everett held up a hand. “You can at least meet me at the end of the lane where I dropped you off before, can’t you?”
He had a point. “All right, then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We waved good-bye to Meg and walked out of the Gas Station. Everett held open the door for me like a gentleman. Being treated nicely felt good, and I fought to keep a silly grin off my face.
“So, what’s a boy from New York City doing in Mississippi working construction?” I asked as we pulled out and headed back south toward town.
“I needed a change is all. Trent’s a friend and promised me a job with his dad’s company, made it sound fun.”
“And you came all the way down here?” I teased. “Are you running away from something?”
He smirked but kept his eyes on the road. “You’re not going to go looking me up online, are you?”
I shook my head, my smile fading. “I’m not a big fan of the Internet,” I said, looking out the window.
“Neither am I, to be honest.”
It felt strange to meet somebody else who wasn’t online twenty-four seven. I wanted to ask for the story behind his choice, but feared he would ask the same from me. “How long are you staying down here?”
“The original plan was just for the summer, but I like it here. Don’t know if I’ll stay in construction, but it’s peaceful here.” He looked over at me, winking. “And there are other perks to staying.”
I clamped my lips together, fighting to keep the stupid grin off my face. Warmth spread through me and I stared out the window as we pulled up to my bike. Being appreciated again felt good, especially after feeling like a burden to everyone for so long. A quick glance at my watch told me I had to hurry, but I paused and covered his hand with mine. “Thank you for helping me with all this.”
He brought my hand up to kiss the knuckles, his eyes not leaving mine. A tingle spread through my body, and between my thighs an ache of longing started. “I’ll help you however I can,” he murmured.
Leaving that car was difficult, but I forced myself to get out and unlock my bike. Everett stayed in the car, waving as I took off, and pleasure coursed through me. Maybe there were a few good men still left in this world. With all the bad luck in my life to this point, maybe I was finally getting a break.
That happy feeling lasted the whole way home, right up until I realized my mom’s car wasn’t at the house. Leaning my bike against the side of the stairway, I hurried up the steps and checked to see if anyone was home, but nobody was inside, either. I got home at twenty minutes to three, still more than early enough to go pick up my little brother.
But I had no car.
I tried to call her cell but she had it turned off. The thought of calling my grandmother didn’t sit well; I’d automatically be made to blame. I thought perhaps my mother was just out running errands and had forgotten the time. Annoyed at my own helplessness, I passed the time by picking up beer bottles strewn across the living room as I waited for her to get home.
At ten minutes after three, I called the daycare office. The lady who answered was kind enough to go check to see if my little brother was still there.
“No, his teacher said his mother picked him up,” she said when she finally got on the phone.
I thanked her profusely and paced the length of the trailer, continually checking the clock. I finally heard the car pull into the driveway and moved outside to help. “I thought I was supposed to pick him up,” I said as my mother unbuckled Davy from his car seat.
“You weren’t here,” she said, a belligerent note in her voice. “I tried calling you and kept getting some error message.”
I hadn’t given her my new number yet.
Shit
. “I’m sorry, Mama, I changed it two days ago.”
She gave me a dirty look. “Goddamn, irresponsible … I didn’t raise you to be this fucking lazy, Lacey May.”
God, I hated it when she was drunk. She never would have talked like that to me before Ben died; I’d never once heard her cuss in fact until we moved back down here. Resentment burned in my gut. “I was here ten minutes beforehand,” I persisted as I followed her into the house. “Where did you go?”
“Had to get cigarettes.”
“Mama.” I gave an exasperated sigh. “You know you shouldn’t drive when you’ve been drinking.”
“You made me do it,” she muttered darkly, setting my brother on the ground. “If you had been here when you were supposed to …”
“Mama, you just said you went to get cigarettes. You were driving drunk even though I—”
Crack!
My head whipped around and I stumbled sideways. I turned to look at my mother, shocked to my core. No matter how bad things had been, Gretchen St. James had
never
laid her hand on me before.
I stood there stunned, holding my cheek, as my mother stared back at me. To her credit, she looked as astonished as I was, but I didn’t care. Part of me wanted desperately to hit her back, make her feel the pain that was tearing me apart.
“Sissy?”
Davy was watching us, his blue eyes as round as saucer plates. Tears sprang to my eyes as I realized he’d witnessed the whole thing, but I had no idea what to say. Rage and impotence enveloped me, but I couldn’t make myself move.
My mother looked between us, her eyes still wide, then she turned to my brother. “What do you want for dinner, honey?” she said in a shaky voice, ignoring me completely.
That was the final straw.
I knew where my mother kept her stash of liquor. She wasn’t very creative with hiding it, and I’d raided it before. Sure enough, she had several bottles in various sizes of tequila and vodka in the small cabinet under the kitchen sink.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Grabbing the smaller bottle of vodka, I ignored her and checked the contents. It didn’t appear to have been opened.
“Lacey May!”
I rounded on her. “Fuck you,” I whispered, and was pleased by the shock I saw in her eyes. I’d never said those words to her before, never cursed at my mama. She’d been the one person I thought I could rely on in this house.
No more.
Without another word, I turned and stomped out of the trailer, slamming the door behind me. I picked up my bike and, stuffing the thin bottle in the back of my shorts, I took off down the street.
I had no idea where I was going, but when I got to the beach, I threw down my bike on edge of the sand, and walked out to the water. Plopping my butt next to the pier, I unscrewed the top to the bottle and tipped it back, letting the burning liquid make its way down my throat.
* * *
By five o’clock, I was drunk as a skunk and horny as hell.
Vodka had always done that to me. Maybe that was why it was my drink of choice when I went out; any given night’s outcome could be blamed on the liquor. It wasn’t my fault, the alcohol made me do it. I could almost believe it.
Almost.
Macon’s number sprang immediately to mind, even though I didn’t have him in my new phone. He was the one I used to call at times like these; invariably, he would come and pick me up wherever I was. The price was always sex, but he’d keep me drunk enough that I wouldn’t mind, until morning came around and I’d sobered up.
I punched his familiar numbers into my phone, then a sane part of my mind made me close the clamshell, deleting them again. The small vodka bottle was empty, and I tossed it toward a nearby trashcan. When it bounced off the side and plopped in the sand, I stumbled over and picked it up, putting it carefully through the hole.
For some reason, this struck me as hilarious.
Sitting down with my back to the trash, I opened my phone again and scrolled through my messages. A slight smile tipped the corner of my mouth as I reread Everett’s conversation. As I tried to hit Reply to text him something new, however, the unfamiliar phone began dialing his number instead.
Oh well
. I put the cheap phone to my ear and listened to it ring.
“Hey, I didn’t think you’d ever actually call me.”
“Hey,” I drawled, grinning widely. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Not much. I’m watching TV with Trent. What about you?”
“I’m drunk.” It seemed really important to make sure he understood my words, so I spoke slowly. “My mother slapped the shit out of me, in front of my brother no less, so I stole her vodka and went to the beach.”
There was a long pause from his end. “Where are you now?”
I looked around. “On the beach,” I said, smiling at my joke.
“No seriously, Lacey. What’s around you right now?”
I huffed and rolled my eyes.
Pushy, ain’t he?
“Um, I’m next to the long pier right on highway ninety.”
“Okay, stay there, I’m coming to get you.”
“Aww! You are such a sweetheart.” My mood changed, however, when I realized he’d hung up on me. Groaning in frustration, I poked at the sand, and then glanced at my feet.
Hey, where did my shoes go?
By the time Everett’s car pulled up beside the beach, I’d managed to find one shoe but the other remained hidden. “Hi,” I said as a couple walked by, giving them a small wave and a smile before going back to my task. At that point I was a little steadier on my feet, but still stumbling over the soft sand.
When I saw the dark-haired boy coming toward me, I grinned widely. “Hi,” I said, throwing my arms in the air like I’d scored a touchdown. Before he could say anything I enveloped him in a big hug. My head came right about to his jawline, and I cuddled up against his neck. “Where’ve you been all my life, gorgeous?”
A bemused smile tipped one corner of his gorgeous mouth. “Lacey, do you need me to take you home?”
“Nah,” I purred, pushing myself against him. “I like it fine right here.”
Everett stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, then he tugged gently at my arms around his neck. “Lacey, you’re drunk.”
“So?” I leaned in for a kiss but Everett twisted his face away, so I set my lips to his neck. Hot damn, but he tasted good. His body went rigid beneath me, the fingers around my waist digging into the soft flesh. I dragged my teeth along the hollow of his throat, enjoying the soft prickle of his five-o’clock shadow.
When I lifted my head, his lips were parted, and I knew for sure that he was about to kiss me. His hands tightened on my waist, however, and he took a step away. “I want to kiss you, Lacey, but not when you’re drunk.”
“Why do you have to be such a gentleman?” I asked, pouting.