I shake my head and slide out of the truck, but don’t close the door until my suitcase is securely on the ground. Once I do, he’s driving so fast out of the driveway that rocks are flying toward me. A few hit my legs and I cry out in pain, anger and frustration. There’s no way I liked living here. It’s dirty and nature makes my skin crawl.
“Well, well, well, if it ain’t my little Savvy.”
As much as I don’t want to be here, I love my uncle. He’s been a father to me for as long as I can remember. My dad passed away when I was two and I only remember him from pictures, but my memories of Uncle Bobby are fresh – well, as clear as they can be after being gone for so long. I smile as he comes stomping down the steps of his old farmhouse. It looks the same, but more modern and very clean. It warms my heart to know that he’s kept it up all these years and didn’t suffer in the recession like others.
“Hi, Uncle Bobby,” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck. He picks me up and swings me around, earning him a girly squeal. This is what I would’ve done had Tyler been like this with me and not the other girl. But no, he had to make my homecoming awkward and remind me why I don’t want to be here.
“How’s my Savvy?” he asks as he sets me down.
I shrug, because I honestly don’t know how I am. My life is a wreck and is only made worse by being here. I don’t want to tell him that, but I’m sure he knows. He’s always known. If it was a bump on my knee or a bee sting, Uncle Bobby had the cure. I don’t know if he was making up for his brother, my father, not being able to be around or what, but he was t
he dad I needed until we moved away. I know I’ve changed and I suspect everyone else has, as well, but there are things that I hope are the same. If I’m feeling down, will he have homemade ice cream waiting for me? I’m hoping not because I’m down all the time and ice cream is the last thing I need right now. Uncle Bobby picks up my suitcase and takes my hand in his empty one, leading me to the house. The covered porch brings back memories of many dinners and camp outs I used to have with my mom. We lived here when I was younger because it was easier for everyone after my daddy died.
When I get inside I see that nothing - yet everything - has changed. My pictures from when I was little adorn the walls and the house still smells like home cooking, something that I can’t get in New York. The aroma of freshly baked pie and a chicken roasting in the oven wafts through the walls. I inhale deeply, closing my eyes to try to bring up memories of running through the halls of this house. When I open them, I notice that the furniture is new and looks unbelievably comfortable. I can see myself getting lost while I watch this ranch hand work the land… hopefully with his shirt off. I step closer to the mantle and run my finger along the wood. Living in an apartment for so long, you forget how much love goes into building a home. An old picture catches my eye. It’s of me and Tyler with our arms wrapped around each other. Both of us are covered in dirt and sweat, and he’s holding a frog in his hand. We were so close and probably would still be if I hadn’t been forced to move. When you’re young and dependent upon others, what’s important to you slips through your fingers. I thought of him until he just became a memory that I kept to myself. None of my private school friends cared about the stories I had to tell.
“Come on, there’s someone in the kitchen who has missed her girl and is dying to see you.”
I shuffle my feet into the kitchen to find my Aunt Sue hunched over the sink. She turns and gasps, covering her mouth as her eyes start to water. I fall into her arms and shed the tears that I had been saving for when I’d see her again. When we left, I begged my mom to bring us back to visit, but we never had any time. Her career was important to her and because of that I’ve lost time with my two favorite people.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” she says, cupping my face.
I nod, unable to find my voice. As happy as I am to see her and Uncle Bobby, I don’t belong on a ranch. I belong in the city.
Tyler
I slam my hand against my steering wheel to keep in time with the beat of the song blasting through my speakers. The need to hit something is prevalent and I haven’t felt like this in a long time, not since I found my girlfriend Annamae - now my ex – playing “mow my lawn” with her momma’s landscaper behind her garage. Nothing really prepares you to find your girlfriend like that. My fist knew what to do though. It was only after I beat the kid to a pulp that she proclaimed her love for him. With that I just laughed and walked away. My one-year of dating a Southern Belle went down the drain just like that. That wasn’t a good day, but today, while shitty, ain’t the same. The sudden onset of energy needs to be released and the only way I know how to do that is to find a punching bag or go ride the bull at Red’s.
I don’t know what I was expecting today, but that wasn’t it. How could I not know that was Savannah standing there? I should’ve known. We’re connected. I know we’re all grown up now, but we were close. We were friends for a long time. Hell, I’d even seen her naked a time or two even though it was long before she was looking like she’s looking now... and damn, is she fine now.
I pull into the dirt parking lot of Red’s and shut off the engine. Not too many cars are here tonight, which is just perfect for me. This is the town’s watering hole – for everyone. Red doesn’t care. He’s been serving minors for as long as he can remember, never afraid that the law will crack down on him. We’re the epitome of Small Town America and that means the police chief is someone’s daddy, uncle, brother or cousin and probably sitting at the bar with a cold one in his hand, not giving a rat’s ass if some minor is in here. Just don’t speed. If you’re caught speeding, he’ll bust your ass and make you pay a hefty fine. I never speed.
When I walk in, my best friend Jeremiah is leaning over a table full of girls getting his flirt on. I saddle up to an empty stool and tap on the bar. Della’s working the bar tonight. She smiles and nods giving me the indication that she knows what I want. I look over my shoulder at Jeremiah and have to laugh. He’s the town’s poster boy for a redneck. He’s always dressed in plaid with his big shiny belt buckle, cowboy hat and boots. The boy even walks like he just dismounted a bull and always has his thumbs in his pockets. He’s who the Yankees make fun of. The chicks dig him though, especially the ones just passing through. They all think they’ve found themselves a real-life cowboy. They just don’t know that he’s a real-life horn dog too.
Jeremiah Moore is a man who can’t form a proper sentence, unless you’re a chick he’s trying to pick up. Then he becomes mister cool cat or whatever corny ass nickname he’s given himself. He’s articulate and smooth and the girls are putty in his hands. It makes me sick sometimes, but he’s still my best friend and I know he’d do anything for me, as I would him. It still grates me that this oaf gets any chick he wants, yet I have to work my tail off for a little attention. It dawns on me that I have to keep Savannah away from him. Even though they know each other, he’ll really want to get to know her now.
Red’s is everything you want in a bar. It’s open all week long, they serve the greasiest burgers in town, beer’s always cold and the women are a-plenty. The bartenders know everything about everyone. There are so many peanut shells on the ground that it’s a new type of flooring. Music’s always playing and you’re bound to find at least one of your friends hanging out. On the weekends there’s dancing and a few bands stop through every now and again. Red even has a mechanical bull-riding contest once a year, and that brings in a lot of city folk. Red’s is the place that those city girls like to escape to find their “cowboy”. We don’t mind. It’s always nice having Southern Belles around.
The cold amber liquid feels good coating the back of my throat, but I don’t have time to savor it as a slap on the back makes me spit and choke. I swipe the back of my hand across my mouth as I cough and regain my composure. Jeremiah sits down next to me, his own mug of beer resting in his hand.
“She here?” I look at him out of the corner of my eye and shake my head. His eyebrows are waggling up and down. He does that when he talks about any girl, but what he doesn’t know is that Savannah McGuire is beautiful. What he also doesn’t know is that I messed up the reunion and her attitude is less than friendly.
“Yeah, man, she’s here.” I chug the rest of my beer and set the mug on the bar, signaling for another one. I’m not about to sit here and get drunk, but the liquid definitely curbs my piss-poor attitude where she’s concerned. “She arrived with legs that are a fucking mile long and she wears them damn high ass heels that we’re always making fun of.”
He looks at me questioningly. “Mousy?”
I nod and tip my mug back. “I wouldn’t call her that though. She looks nothing like she did when she was twelve. Hell man, when she got off the bus, there was another chick with her and I thought that she was the other one. Mou… Savannah gave me such attitude that she ignored me all the way back to Bobby’s.”
“She smokin’?”
I nod, reluctantly. I don’t want to think of her like that and I definitely don’t want Jeremiah thinking of Savannah in that way, but damn it all to hell, she’s the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever lain my eyes on.
Jeremiah laughs and slams his glass onto the bar. It’s a good thing it’s half empty; Della hates it when her bar gets messy. “So if she has legs for miles and she’s smokin’, why aren’t they wrapped around your waist?”
I sigh out of frustration that I shouldn’t feel. The thought of her and me like that overtakes my mind. Savannah and I didn’t keep in touch. We weren’t able to. To me, she was a friend that I was growing up with and teasing along the way from when she got braces, to when she’d come running into the house because we drenched her with water. She wasn’t supposed to grow up and be beautiful. She was supposed to stay the same so we could pick up where we left off. Now she’s like that senior girl in high school that all the freshman boys had hard-ons for.
“Savannah…” Even saying her name overloads my senses. I had hoped she’d say “hi” to her aunt and uncle and we’d hop in my rig and come here to Red’s to talk and hang out. “She doesn’t belong here,” I sigh with a hint of sorrow in my voice. I know I shouldn’t care, but deep down I do. I’ll wake up tomorrow, go to work and pretend that I’m not watching for her. When lunch rolls around, I’ll opt to eat in the barn and stay far away from the house and Aunt Sue’s cooking. I need to keep my distance and not let lines get crossed.
“Did you pick her up and spin her around like they do in the romance flicks?” Jeremiah’s always watches movies to learn how to impress the girls. It works for him and maybe I should do the same, but by the way she was standing there all high and mighty, I think she would’ve handed my ass to me with her purse.