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“Not exactly. How about I get Laura in here to help you with whatever you need, and she’ll do the party with you tonight?”
I feel slightly pleased to see Maxine’s disappointment, when she sharply inhales with surprise. “But you were all excited. I thought you wanted to do this party,” she says, looking dismayed.
“You’re right kiddo. I really did…but I can’t. Family emergency,” I respond, just realizing how harshly neutral I sound.
“Oh my gosh…are you okay?” she sweetly inquires. “Yes, I’m fine. Everyone’s fine. I just…forgot about something I can’t get out of or my head will be on a platter.”
“Oh geez. Okay, well…I’ll miss you tonight,” she lies, looking utterly puzzled by the thought that I could get in trouble with anyone. Maxine’s used to me calling all the shots.
“You’ll be fine kiddo, and I will too.” I rest my hands on the counter and drop my head, taking a couple more calming breaths. When I raise my head, Maxine looks lovingly concerned and unconvinced. “I’m gonna call Laura and then I’ll do odds and ends till lunch. No guarantee I’ll make it back in this afternoon, but I’ll have my cell on me. So call me if you need anything, okay?”
Maxine nods as I dial Laura and head to the front of the store to check the freshness of our latest window arrangements. She agrees to come in after lunch, and I go sit in my car again to call Holly.
“Hey Fifi. Taking lunch after all?”
“You bet. There’s been a change of plans and I’m not working that party tonight. Quade’s in town and wants to take me to dinner at five sharp, so Laura’s going to help Maxine.”
“Oh God, uh…that sounds nice.”
“Yep, so…are you eating at home today or what?”
“Sure, no plans. Why don’t you just come on home and I’ll whip up a frittata.”
“That sounds heavenly. Be there in ten.”
When I arrive, Holly isn’t there yet. So I sit in the living room to meditate for a few minutes…soaking up the bright sun streaming in through the skylights, trying to ground myself for the all-consuming task of hearing Bo’s voice without losing my stability. Even my visions of punching Quade have been put on the back burner for now.
As I hear Holly enter through the kitchen, I try to take a minute to come out of meditation but it’s impossible. My eyes pop open of their own accord, and I rush over to meet her extended hand…snatching the phone like a child and dialing Bo’s number without a thought.
“Thank you,” I mouth, as I head back to the privacy of the den, leaving Holly to bang her pots and pans in the background.
“Woman,” Bo growls in his caveman voice.
I go weak in the knees, and my breath catches when I try to respond. “Bo,” I finally whisper.
His laugh begins like always, as a hollow rumble deep in his chest. I can see his crooked smile as I hear it.
“Still waitin for you darlin,” he says at length. “Thought I’d give a call and see how your holidays are going.”
I continue breathing into the phone, unable to speak as memories of Bo envelop me like a ocean wave. If I wasn’t clear on it before, I know now that Bo Thompson is the love of my life. And my life is in ruins. I refuse to beg any man for help, and I don’t know what a farmer could really provide me anyway, but I can’t sweep this one under the carpet forever. So I make a monumental decision…to tell the truth.
“Bo…I’m not so great. I mean…I’ve had better years. Not at the store…in life in general, I mean.”
“Well sure. I notice you’re still not talkin on your own phone like a big girl. That can’t be a good sign,” he responds with all the confidence of Conan the Barbarian.
“Well I still have my store,” I reply, immediately getting defensive, “and that means everything to me. So things could be much worse.” My stupidity rings loudly through the silence as I wait for him to respond.
“Alright then darlin. I’m glad you’ve got everything that means somethin to you,” he says so nonchalantly I want to slap him.
“That’s not what I meant!” I holler, then remain quiet for a good half minute during which Bo patiently waits for me to explain myself. “I’m just glad I still have my store,” I mutter, embarrassed, feeling on the brink of tears.
“Well alright then. You just keep side-steppin it and we’ll keep talkin on Holly’s phone if that’s what suits you.”
I know all Bo’s doing is giving honest responses to my cryptic information, but it’s making me feel more helpless and dimwitted by the moment. “I never said it suits me to talk to you on Holly’s phone,” I say, lashing out in anger… my auto-response to being cornered into my own bullshit.
“Okay darlin, I’ll call you on your own phone from now on if that’s alright.”
“From now on? Bo…it’s been what…six months since you called me?” I feel tears welling up, as I transition from angry to sad…then back to angry.
