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The holiday never quite recovered after I refused to go to her barbeque. I spent the 4th down on a lake in Texas, with Wes and my other buddies, trying to drown my misery in beer. I'm sure I was raining on their parade, but I hadn't spoken to her in nearly five days and I was about to go insane. She probably damn well knew it too.
"You're home!" she cried when I let myself into the loft.
I was expecting to be thoroughly chewed out upon my arrival. I was not expecting her to more or less fling herself at me. I did manage to catch her, and brace us against the counter before she kissed me though. Two points for that.
"What's this?" I asked, fingering the pink spots dotted across her arms, legs, and parts of her chest exposed by her tank top.
"Calamine lotion," she replied – the duh evident in her voice.
"For?"
"Mosquito bites. I swear they go through jeans, but you just can't miss the fireworks because of the mosquitoes." She wrinkled her nose. "Only weenies miss the fireworks because of mosquitoes. And bug spray is a pain to deal with… It doesn't really help anyway; I think it attracts more of them."
"Whatever you say, babe." When Evie gets an idea like that in her head, she'll swear up, down, and sideways it's true and there's no convincing her otherwise. It's easier to nod my head and smile. I leaned in for another kiss, but she jerked away, planting her hand on her hip.
"Huh uhn, you're still in the doghouse for missing the barbeque. Don't even think I just up and forgot about that. And no, I haven't forgiven you yet either."
If I'd've known I would be in said doghouse for the rest of July, I would have just rescheduled the visit down to Wes's.
The second week in July, she started cleaning out the loft to prepare for Tara's return. As penance, I did everything on her honey-do list without complaint. This included polishing the floors, fixing the garbage disposal, cleaning out air vents, hauling boxes that must have been filled with bricks, and rearranging the furniture no less than four times – the last move putting everything back where it was in the first place.
It was after this that she brought up the float trip, over a romantic dinner of homemade chicken and dumplings, no less. Thankfully, the dumplins cooked through this time, unlike the first time she tried to make her mother's famous recipe.
Unfortunately, mentioning that, or perhaps the mis-phrasing of what I intended to be a compliment, did not earn me any favors. In fact, the only thing it earned me was a smack on the arm.
"I know what you're doing, Zachary Jonathan Brewer. Attempting to change the subject – no matter how clumsily or smoothly you do it – will not get you out of this. You elected to skip the 4th Barbeque, therefore, you have no choice on the floatin' trip. It's your own fault."
The glare she leveled at me would have made a grizzly bear sweat. And so, I dutifully resigned myself to attending the semi-annual float trip. Maybe that would get me out of the doghouse. I had business to attend to in Sikeston anyhow; I might as well get some cover from the float trip.
Evie always sleeps in late at her mom's, her room in the basement is dark and cool, almost like a cave, and it is ideal for sleeping. I, on the other hand, am sentenced to the guest room, which is nice enough, but has an Eastern facing window and is across the hall from the master bedroom. Not only does this mean that her mother knows when I go to bed, it also means I can't sneak back downstairs and Eve has a rough time sneaking up to me. So, no late night kissing or snuggling for us there.
Not that I would be getting any anyway – I was still in the doghouse. But, on the other hand, I do have the privilege of waking Evie up in the morning, seeing as how she sleeps like the dead down in her room. There is no better way of waking her up than with kisses, and it's generally where I spend my daily allotment of them. A man cannot live on food alone, after all.
Well, he can, but I can guarantee you he won't be happy about it.
When we dropped by her father's house the next afternoon, she decided to take Kirby the attack dog for a run. I opted to wisely use this time to speak with her father about the covert operation I was planning. She dropped the dog back off at the house ten minutes later, grumbling about her father ruining her running partner. Kirby, for his part, didn't even expend the energy to growl at me – he did, however, give me a baleful look as Evie kissed my cheek and waltzed back out the door.
"Oh, I'll go with."
"Don't be silly, you're in the middle of a hand with Chrissy. It won't be too long." If he thought that he would be able to talk his way out of getting his tail handed to him, once again, playing poker with Chrissy, he was very wrong. However, it wouldn't do for him to lose every hand, so I leaned in closer to him, under the pretense of kissing his ear. Chrissy, predictably, turned away, but not before giving me a Gross! look. "She's bluffing, her right eyebrow is crinkled," I whispered in his ear.
I did feel a little bad for the stunt I was about to pull, but he wouldn't understand – and it would mess up tradition. Around eleven, I felt that I'd made him wait to hear from me for long enough. "Zachy," I said, once he'd answered the phone.
"This isn't gonna be fun for me, is it? Zachy is never a sign of anything good."
"I'm gonna stay with Tara tonight, kay?"
The other side of the line was quiet. I'm sure he was trying to figure out if I was joking or not. "You can't be serious," he finally hissed into the phone.
I couldn't help but laugh. "I love you, be here at 7:30, and don't forget that it's turn at the tooth." Then I hung up on him. I know, I know, I'm evil. Oh, and as for turn at the tooth, there's a dentist's office on the corner of Main Street and Kennedy – the street that the Kelly's live on. The sign is shaped like a huge tooth. It makes directions impossible to forget.
We were loaded up and on the road in a matter of minutes. The conversation rolled comfortably almost the entire way to Current River. Around Ellisnore, however, Evie suddenly shouted, "OH MY GOSH!! NECK FLAP!!"
Everyone hurriedly looked out the window before bursting out in gales of laughter. She told me to hurry up and look, and sure enough, I could clearly see the neck skin of the burly man on the motorcycle in the lane next to us flapping in the breeze and laughed myself. This led to the relating of the drive to their Sr. Trip, and the importance of said neck flap. I think it might be one of those things you had to be there for.
We arrived at Big Springs a little green around the gills - the hills through there are awful - and took a short hike up a hill and around a bridge that overlooked the bubbling springs (and of course, took far more pictures than necessary) before breaking into the picnic. I was persuaded to try a Vienna Sausage picnic and promptly gagged on it. Evie and the others laughed at my misfortune for a solid minute before she handed me the last of her water and patted my back.
Friends indeed. Oh, and I love you too, Sweetheart.
When we made it to the river, I was schooled in the art of tube picking by Evie, although, I'm still not entirely sure whether I should have listened to her or not, as she always insists that she ends up with a flat tire. But, no matter. I selected a tube and had it approved by Nelson before allowing her to slather me in sunscreen, and gladly returning the favor.
As Nelson, Alex, and I finagled the cooler into its tube, Evie turned to Mrs. Kelly and said, in what she calls 'her teacher voice', "Now Mrs. Jane, if anything should happen, save the cooler. You can swim. The cooler can't." This sounded like something their other friend, Gregg - there's a lot I could say about Gregg, but for now I'll just settle for describing him as the one with the insatiable appetite - would have said. When I told them this, they laughed out loud. Apparently, I was right.
The river was freezing. Everyone else hopped in their tubes right off the shore and kicked themselves out away from it. Evie crooked her finger at me, beckoning me to her, so I dutifully started wading out to her, pushing my tube in front of me. No one told me about the drop off three feet into the river. Dear Lord, do I really want to propose to this cruel thing? A kiss on the cheek, and then above my left eyebrow, and finally in that spot behind my ear, assured my bruised ego that I did.
So, the float began, and Evie, Tara, and Mrs. Jane drifted to the front while we menfolk chilled in the back. With the cooler. A bit later, we were discussing the cost of building a new home as opposed to buying one and refurbishing it, and I was getting all kinds of do-it-yourself tips from Nelson. This seemed like as good a time as any, so I asked him what he thought of Evelyn and I - as a couple.
He studied me for a moment before responding. "I'm glad I only had to talk to one set of parents. The fact that you're even asking me what I think just because you know she'd appreciate the gesture says a lot for you. If you want to know the truth, I've been rooting for you all along. You're good for her." That was actually the most blessing like response I'd gotten all weekend. Not that I technically needed his approval, but it felt nice to know I had it. And, like he said, Evie would appreciate the gesture. Besides that, maybe, just maybe, it would get me out of the damn doghouse.
Alex looked over at me and arched an eyebrow. I knew he'd already proposed to Tara, but maybe I had just shown him up on accident. Whoops. Sorry dude. I tried to slow myself down and attempted to steer closer to him. "Do I need to ask for your blessing too?"
"No man. I was just thinking I'm glad it's you. Eve used to tell me that she would be happy if she met someone who wouldn't turn tail and head for the hills when she explained about her family - mainly her mother - much less when he met them. And here you are, bending over ass backwards to do everything possible to make her happy."
"Thanks. But all I really want to do is get out of the doghouse. Did you know the 4th of July was such a big deal?"
"I couldn't believe you had the gall not to come, actually. But I do understand what the doghouse is all about."
"We are so whipped."
"Boys, I suggest you get used to it," Nelson piped up. We weren't sure if he was referring to wives in general or if there were hidden 'and you'll stay that way if you know what's good for you' undertones, but it didn't make the comment any less humorous.
We rounded a bend in the river, and I could see Tara and Mrs. Jane frantically back paddling, but laughing so hard that they weren't really doing any good. But where on earth was my soon-to-be-fiancée? Oh wait, stuck on that tree sticking out of the river. She had the look of a drowned rat, and it was plain to see that she was mad as hell too.
"I was wondering when she'd get stuck. To think, we made it almost half way through with no mishaps."
"This is a frequent occurrence?"
"Every year, although, sometimes I think she plans it just so we won't be disappointed."
"So… should I save her?"
"Sweep her off her feet, boy!" Nelson said, before leaning over and whispering something in Alex's ear that made him laugh.
As I paddled towards her, she turned back to face Tara and Mrs. Jane. For some reason, they started laughing even harder. When I grabbed hold of the tree, she just looked at me like I was stupid.
"What are you doing?"
"Saving you." Duh.
A calculating look crossed her face, and then she grinned. That's when I knew I was in trouble. Before I could blink, I was upside down in the river, and she'd stolen my tube - which was considerably fatter than hers - and was floating lazily towards Tara and Jane, whose laughter had progressed to uncontrollable.
"Tol'ja it would work."
"Fine, fine, you win. Who ever would have thought Evie would find her knight in shining armor?" Tara teased.
"Oh, I haven't yet. This one's my knight in dripping swimsuit." Here, she shot me a grin and deliberately licked her lips before continuing. "I almost think he's better though...no foolish chest armor to deal with. What do you think?"
Tara's scandalized shout of "MOTHER!" makes me nearly certain that I don't want to know. Right now, my focus is revenge. Hopefully, the boys will help me come up with something.
It was rather sad, the best idea being putting her crawdad on her tube when we stopped for an oatmeal cream pie and a bottled water. That wasn't good enough. That was child's play. Besides, what if she crushed the poor crawdad? No, that plan just wouldn't do. We decided to wait until she would be most unsuspecting for retaliation, or rather, until we could come up with something good to get her.
When we were at the deep part of the river, I caught up to her, leaned in, and made like I was going to kiss her. When she leaned towards me, I up-ended her (MY) tube, effectively dumping her into the water. I should have known that wasn't a good idea though, because before I could even blink, I was in the water beside her. We messed around a bit, tickling each other and giving random pecks here and there, but then she started to panic a little.
"Zach, Zach, where are our tubes?"
"Zach, Zach, where are our tubes?"
"They're just up there; it's not a big deal."
"Zach! Up there is the fast part - it is a big deal! Wading through that is going to be hell!"
Whoops. And so, I did the only think I could think of. I stood up in the knee deep and surprisingly fast water and picked her up bridal style. She gave a little shriek and grabbed around my neck. Once I was sure I had a good grip on her, I started trudging through. It really wasn't that bad, until the water only reached just below my calves. The strength of it in combination with the slick rocks swept me right off my feet.
Luckily, I fell backwards, so I neither squashed nor drowned Evie. However, while I provided as quite an effective shield against the rough rocks, the weight of her on me had me skidding against them until the water mercifully deepened and we could stop ourselves.
I've decided that I hate floatin', just so you know.
"Honey, are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Actually, I'm not fine. My back is skinned, my front is sunburned, and everything hurts like hell.
"No you're not! You're all scraped up."
"Yeah, but you're alright. That's all that matters." True, but I was worried more for my sake than hers. Now don't get me wrong, I do love her, and I would be upset if she got hurt because of my stupidity. But more than that, I'm pretty sure that the Kelleys, Tara, and Alex would have skinned me live if I'd let her get so much as a scratch.
"Oh, sweetheart." That was all she said, before she planted one on me in front of the Kelleys and everyone right there in the middle of the river. That is, she kissed me until Mrs. Jane let out a triumphant whoop - during which she jerked away and promptly turned an adorable shade of red. "Will you let me take care of it when we get dried off and back to the car?"
"No arguments here."
I have honestly never been so glad to get in a car my entire life. She climbed into the very backseat in front of me, and when I sat down, she scrunched down so she was in the middle seat, stretched her legs out beside me, and leaned back. I gave her an affronted look, after all, surely I deserved a little bit of room, right? She sighed, sat up, put her arms around my neck, and pulled me down with her, so that my back was against the cool leather of the seat and she was snuggled into my chest. Her outer hand snaked down until it found mine, which she placed high on her back, and then returned to rest low on my hips, fingers delving under the waistband of my shorts. I took her return to our "snuggle position" as a sign that I wasn't in the doghouse anymore.
They pressed on. He had his girls on the side, and she thought he finally understood her. She said 'I love you' again.
It was past five, and she hadn't shown up at Blair Shannon for supper. He thought she was just running late, so he called up to her dorm room.
"Hello?"
"Tara? Is Evie there?"
"Oh. Gregg." Tara had become noticeably cooler towards Gregg since the start of their freshman fall semester. She had long suspected that he wasn't as faithful as Evie thought, but she was loathe to tell Evie her suspicions in case she was wrong. There had always been something about Gregg that rubbed her a bit the wrong way, and she didn't want to risk her friendship over a misjudgment about him. "She had a study date this afternoon, maybe it ran late."
"Where was it? She's not answering her cell." Impatience, his voice was always tinged with impatience when it came to Evie.
"I know; I found it under the bed just a little bit ago. It must have fallen out of her purse."
Gregg sighed heavily. Tara always avoided the question; it nearly made his blood boil. "Tara, where is her study date."
Demanding. Impatience and demands. But there was nothing left to do but answer him. "Founder's Park." This time, it was Tara who sighed.
"Thanks."
"Yeah," she replied as he hung up, feeling more or less that she'd just sentenced her friend to the guillotine. She hoped Eve wouldn't be there when he arrived, he was in a temper.
It took him nearly half an hour to find her. She'd never taken him there before, not even when he feigned interest, claiming it was her place to just be. It didn't really matter to him, and she didn't want him to ruin it with his indifference.
When he found her there, on a cement block in front of the waterfall, a smile on her face and books and papers spread around her, he was all set to accept her apology for losing track of time and possibly even forgive her. Or at least, he was until he noticed her company, and the way she tipped her head back to laugh at the man's jokes like she used to laugh at his.
Gregg watched as she consulted her notes and asked a question, then frowned as he answered it. He watched as the dark haired man with her leaned in and thumbed the pages of her book, then pointed something out to her. She studied the section he'd pointed out; then turned back to him, eyes shining and sparkling in the light.
He realized that it was an innocent situation, and that irritated him even more. Not with himself though, it was much easier not to feel bad about what he was doing when he could pretend she was wronging him in the same way. That was her fault. Of course it was her fault – if she would relent just a little bit, he wouldn't need to find someone else that would relent a lot.
She saw him storming across the park out of the corner of her eye, and it made her weary – even as she jumped to her feet and hurried to cut him off. Far more than ruining her place with his indifference, he was going to ruin it with hateful words. She would have preferred indifference, at least that way she'd be able to avoid the scene he was going to create.
"I'm sorry, Greggor, I forgot about meeting you for supper." She planted herself in front of him, between him and her friend, with her hands on his upper arms. He might make a scene, but she would be damned if he'd chew her friend up one side and down the other for something that was her fault.
He shrugged her off easily. "Do not call me that idiotic name again, you hear?" he hissed.
She nodded cautiously. At least he wasn't shouting.
"I'm sure you really forgot about our dinner date. Looks to me like you were having a grand old time here. Don't lie to me, Eve. It makes me mad." He watched the light in her eyes turn from bright and starry to brassy and hard. She was hurt, but she'd die before she'd let him know. Too bad he could read her eyes.
He always made the first strike right at the belt line, she knew that, but it didn't make it okay. Her honesty was the one thing she prided herself on, the one thing she'd sworn to never trade, and he knew it. It hurt that he would play that card without second thought. Her word was her everything.
"I'm not lying." She set her jaw and refused the impulse to cross her arms over her chest.
"Of course not," he continued smoothly, "because you never lie. It doesn't become you. You deem it beneath you; a wonderful girl like you would never do something as horrible as lie." He scoffed. "You should at least let me meet the other man." Gregg nodded in the direction of the block she'd been seated on. "It appears that he wants to meet me, at any rate."
He took a step to the side, allowing her access to the man who'd decided he'd had about enough of watching her take crap from the likes of the intruder on their study date. She turned to face him, again putting herself between the two boys.
"Zach, now isn't a really good time…" she started.
"This is ridiculous, Eve," Zach returned.
"Not really," I butted in, "she probably hasn't told you much about her parents, but let me assure you, she is definitely her father's daughter."
Evie didn't think twice about the wisdom of letting her hand do what it'd been aching to do for weeks. It made a satisfying crack against Gregg's cheek, as she whirled on him in a rage. "You creep. Complete and utter creep," she spat.
She turned again to storm off, and Zach wrapped his arm around her back as he turned with her. Gregg, not about to let her get away with striking him, much less without winning the fight, reached out and grabbed her arm, yanking her to the side.
She squealed in pain, and just as quickly, her companion had turned around to face Gregg. "What the hell is your problem? Eve, are you okay?"
He looked to her, and she nodded her head but remained standing in the same place, eyes on the ground, embarrassed over the scene she blamed herself for causing. If she hadn't forgotten their dinner date, none of it would have happened.
"Look, we were just studying, so I'm sorry if I kept her too long or something, but really, that's not how you treat your girl. It's ridiculous, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself." He drew himself up as he spoke, and he made an intimidating figure.
"This is none of your business," Gregg growled.
"It wasn't until you manhandled her in public. You need to chill out."
"Evie, get your stuff, we're leaving."
"I don't think I want to go anywhere with you right now." She managed to drag her eyes up to Gregg's as she spoke.
"I didn't tell you to think, I told you to get your stuff, because we're leaving." She still didn't move, only stood their gaping at him like he'd grown a second head. "Are you stupid or –"
Gregg reeled backwards several steps. As he wiped at his lip and examined the blood on his fingers, Zach spoke. "She won't be leaving with you. Not while you're acting like this."
"Like hell." Gregg lunged forward, and his fist made contact with Zach's chin. Zach's head snapped back a fraction of an inch, but other than that, he didn't move.
"Stop! Stop it!" Evie threw herself between the two boys finally shocked out of her stony stance. She turned to face Gregg. "Gregg, stop, please. Please, don't do anything else. Just go."
"We aren't finished yet," Gregg threw over his shoulder as he stormed out of the park.
Eve stood tall where she had asked him to leave until his car squealed down the street. Then, and only then, did she allow herself to cry. She was shocked when Zach wrapped her in a hug; she'd nearly forgotten he was still there.
He waited for her in front of Hammons. When she arrived, her eyes were tear swollen and red, and she groaned when she saw him. "Please Gregg, could we at least find somewhere private?"
"Private? So it's okay for you to make a laughingstock of me, but to argue we need somewhere private?"
"How have I made a laughingstock of you, Gregg? By asking you to leave when you were acting like a lunatic? He would have killed you if you kept on with him. You didn't have a prayer in that fight, and we both know it. I would not make a laughingstock of you. I love you. I wouldn't do that to you! Why don't you trust me?"
"Why did you hide it, if it was so innocent?"
"I told you about it last week, Gregg. I didn't mention it was with a boy, and I'm sorry if I should have, but I didn't have any kind of secret rendezvous planned, so excuse me if I didn't think it was a big deal." She frowned at him. "I should've known you'd react like this. Gregg, you hurt me today!"
"Oh, I hurt your heart, you poor thing," he mocked her.
"No. You hurt me." She pulled her shirtsleeve up to reveal bruises that were forming where his fingers had dug into her arm in the park.
He visibly paled. What had he done? What was he doing? He had no idea, and he crashed. He apologized – he meant it this time; and she held him. She accepted his apology and held him while he purged his guilt.
"Gregg, I don't know if I can do this anymore. We don't talk, we fight all the time, I don't know how much more I can take. It's not healthy." She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her face.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll change, we'll work it out. I love you."
It did not occur to him until long, long after the fact that it was only the third or fourth time he'd said it first, and the first time she didn't say it back. Even later he realized the last time she said I love you was when she was defending herself from his accusations.