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"I remember," she said. "You canceled plans. Not that I blame you. You had to, it's just," she sighs. "Holt is a great line dancer and you have a babysitter and he's going to pick you up in an hour."
"You don't have to pick me up," I say. “I'll come to you."
"No," Holt says. "I'm going to come pick you up. It's a date."
"A date date?" I say.
"Yeah, a date date."
I lick my lips. "I've never…" I swallow.
"Never what?" he asks.
I laugh awkwardly. "Um, like, I've never been out on a date," I admit, suddenly feeling like I was being way too blunt. "I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have said that out loud."
Abilene laughs. "Oh my God, Paisley, you are such a dork."
Holt smiles. "Nah, she's not a dork."
"No?" I say.
He shakes his head. "No, I think you're pretty damn perfect."
Holt
When I get to the house, Ma’s resting. "Just a short nap before dinner," her nurse Luke, tells me.
"I see," I tell him. "Thanks again."
"Of course, it's my job," he says, pulling out his paperback science fiction novel and sitting down on the couch.
I walk back to my bedroom and close the door, wanting to change and shower so I can get to Paisley's house before she does something like call me, changing her mind. I know her friend basically talked her into this date, but now that she agreed to it, I don't want her to have a chance to second guess her decision.
It's not that I don't want her to have a choice in the matter. It's just damn, I want to take that girl out. There's something about her hauntingly beautiful eyes. It's like she needs to have fun. I can feel it, like there's something bubbling right under the surface just begging to get out.
I know I've heard plenty of stories about what happened to her, to her family, but I'm going to assume I know nothing until I hear it from her mouth. Not that I'm expecting her to tell me anything.
That's her business and her own history. It's not like I tell my deep secrets the first thing out of the gate.
No, I'm not going to assume she's going to either. But I've heard things, enough things to tell me she might not exactly want to open up to me, a stranger. So I'm going to do whatever I can to give her a night of fun, wholesome, good old-fashioned line dancing at the Tipsy Cow. Hell, that's as American as it gets, right?
Once I’ve cleaned myself up and said goodbye to Luke, I get back in my truck, realizing I have just enough time to swing by the produce stand on my way to Paisley’s house. Sally's working the stand and she's just about closed for the night. I look at my watch. Ten minutes to 8:00. I'm cutting it close.
"Can I grab a bouquet of those sunflowers?" I ask her.
She nods. "Sure thing, Holt. Who are you giving these to?" she asked with a smile. "Your mama?"
"Something like that," I say, handing her some cash. She wraps them up for me in some brown paper and a little blue bow, and I thank her before getting back in my truck and driving off toward Paisley Cassidy's home.
When I pull into the dirt road, the first thing I see are the kids. Now, I knew she had brothers and sisters, but I've never actually met them or seen them. There's a couple of cars in the drive way and I'm guessing one's Paisley's and one's Abilene's, and on the front porch I see Abilene. She's drinking iced tea out of a mason jar with a couple of girls.
"Hey there, Holt Stone," she says, waving me over. "These are Paisley's little sisters."
"I'm Sarah Ann," one of them says. She has a black patch over her eye and long brown hair just like her big sister. "I'm 11 years old and I play the piano real nice."
"That's great," I say.
"And I'm Joanne," the other one says. "I'm 10."
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Holt Stone, and I'm 29." That makes the girls laugh. "There any more of you?" I ask, looking around.
"No more girls," Joanne says. "Thankfully," she enunciates. Then she stands, turning around. That's when I notice she has lost an arm. I remember reading about that in the paper, her injury from the fire. I swallow, running a hand over my hair, hoping Paisley likes the flowers and it's not stupid, feeling over my head because Paisley, damn, she's a real good woman. She deserves more than a bouquet of flowers from the produce stand. She deserves the whole fucking world.
Still, Abilene smiles. "You'll probably be lucky if you don't have to meet the boys. They're a little wild." Just as she says this, two little boys run around the corner of the yard in swim trunks with water guns in their hands, screaming like wild banshees.
