Start To Begin Again

Piece Five.

I sat on the front steps waiting for my cab to arrive. I had called for it over twenty minutes ago. Still there was no yellow flash of a car pulling up. I groaned inwardly and wished I had at least eaten something before I left. My stomach was empty and it was starting to complain.

I heard the door open and someone, Zacky, clear their throat. I turned around and he kneeled down, handing me a cup of hot coffee. I looked at the creamy butterscotch color of warm liquid.

“Still take milk?” I nodded and sipped the beverage. It wasn’t as hot as the mug felt. After I tested it I took another sip. He moved my bigger bag and sat down next to me. He wore grey plaid pajama pants and thin shirt. We stayed quiet till I put the mug down on the concrete slab we sat on.

“I have a bagel with your name on it if you want to come back inside.” I grabbed the mug and handed it back to him. I didn’t make any motion of standing. He sighed. I kept my eyes looking out at the black tar of the street.

I heard him get up and something else. I peeked out from the corner of my eyes and saw him take my bags back inside with him. I took a moment of pause and reflection. I didn’t really think. I just stared before it clicked in my mind. I got up and walked into the house. I saw Zacky look in my open purse.

“I was looking for this,” He said flashing the aftershave I had taken. I didn’t let the embarrassment read on my face. I had inherited my father’s stone gaze. He put it back in my purse and zipped it up. I didn’t move from the doorway. He didn’t make any effort to make me move. Instead he re-lifted my bags and walked them off out of sight into the kitchen.

I waited for him to come back into the hall instead I stood alone. I heard honking. I turned and saw the cab finally pull up. I looked at it then back into the empty hall. I closed the houses’ door and made my way into the kitchen. Zacky was by the toaster inserting fresh bagels into the machine.

I sat down at the round table and pulled off my sweater. I didn’t say anything as he wandered the kitchen grabbing jam, cream cheese and glasses. He set them on the table and walked back to the coffee machine and put the oversized mug on the table along with fresh new drinking mugs.

He grabbed the freshly popped bagels and sat down finally. I grabbed a bagel and butter knife. Then I looked at the Golden Raspberry Jam. I also noticed the fact that he put closer to his side of the table.

“Can you pass the Jam?” I whispered. I was shocked at the softness of my voice. He quirked his eyebrow provoking me to ask again.

“Can you please pass the jam?” I asked with more strength to my voice. He smiled and handed me the small jar. The kitchen was quiet again. Only the sound of pouring and scraping of condiments onto bagels were heard, accompanied with the sounds of spoon hitting ceramic and sipping.

“What was that song you used to sing?” He asked looking at me taking a sip from his mug. I waited till I swallowed the bite I had just taken.

“Which?”

“‘Tis the gift to be gentle, Tis the gift to be fair,’” He sang softly. I smiled at his voice. I missed hearing him mimic my tone when I used to sing around the house. The song was from the shaker faith. My family was non-practicing protestant.

“Simple Gifts.” I said taking another bite.

“It’s pretty,” I nodded and took a sip of my coffee but it didn’t sit right in my mouth. I swallowed as I stood and headed to the fridge. I grabbed the Brita Jug and walked back to the table. I filled both water glasses he had put on the table and sipped the chilled water.

“Why’d you leave?” He asked. I coughed on my bagel. I wasn’t expecting that so soon. At least until after breakfast. He handed me my cup and I drank the water.

“You know why,” I coughed. He shook his head.

“No. When you first even mentioned about leaving you said it was because you were tired. It had nothing to do with my behavior,” I looked at Zacky. It was moments like these that did make me want to stay; moments when he sounded like an adult. I shrugged. He looked back at his own breakfast.

“I thought it was because you didn’t like the city. I mean Huntington isn’t L.A but it can get hectic. Last night was the first time you ever called on my behavior.” I looked back at my own plate. I started to tear at my bagel. I tore off a piece; I stared at it then put it back down.

“I…I was just tired of being a glorified nanny. I mean even if you were home you weren’t home. The guys would always be over. If you weren’t home I’d be curled up with Ichabod. When I moved out here I guess I thought it’d be different. I just didn’t feel like a girlfriend even the little spontaneous kisses or cute moments became scheduled; forced.” I played with my bagel bit not wanting to look up.

“What does that have to do with my acting like a ‘kid’?” He asked. I could hear the quotations around the word kid in his tone.

“You would never talk about it. About anything that was too serious unless it was about the band wasn’t important.” I said peeking to look at his face. He wasn’t looking at me but at the glass paned doors that looked out into the backyard.

He wiped his hands and stood up taking both plates off the table. I closed my eyes. To be honest. I guess I was also at fault. I never pushed the matter. I never told him how I would truly feel. The conversations would always start with Zacky, I and then end with one of us going never mind.

Still there were major differences between Zacky and Zacky. The Zacky I met was so much more subtle, calmer but wild. He had a fire in him. The Zacky that showed in California was just wild. The fire was all over. He was just different. At first I thought it was ‘This is how he acts when he’s with his friends. Boys will be boys,” but eventually it wasn’t. It was like there was a dramatic change as soon as we crossed the state line.

My father owned a horse ranch. He was known to have some of the best horses in the country or at least in the equine world. He had any eye and sometimes would work as a consultant to people buying horses from other ranches.

We weren’t rich but we did well enough that there were no mortgages or loans taken against the house. I still had to work on finical aid when I was in college but I didn’t have any heavy student loans.

I owned the only family horse meaning she was the only not allowed to be sold unless I expressed so. I was taking her for an easy walk to make sure she was healing nicely from a fall she had taken.

I heard the wheels of a car hitting the gravel pretty hard. I looked over the tall grass to get a better look. It didn’t sound like any of the older cars that the ranch hands owned. It sounded too smooth.

I pulled the reigns and made Edwina turn so I could see the shinning black truck drive up to the house. I tapped her side and flicked the reigns to start her down back to the hill.

I watched slowly as the driver got out of the car. I slipped off the horse and watched as a tattooed arm closed the truck’s door. I stopped short but Edwina bumped into me making my feet scuffle in the pebbles that lined the driveway.

“Linette,”

“What are you doing here?” The words came out harsher then I meant. He gave me a confused look. I looked back at the horse and then at Zacky.

“Just let me put her back in the stable.” I said walking Edwina towards the barn house. I looked behind me. Zacky stayed by the car. When I got the barn and out of sight from Zacky I rushed to get Edwina back into her own section before wiping my hands and running my fingers through my hair.

When I came back out my mother was talking to Zacky. I looked up silently to the sky and mouthed a please to the heavens.

“Oh Linette, there you are,” I blew a sigh of relief. She came over and hugged me loosely.

“He’s handsome,” she whispered before walking into the farmhouse style home we lived in.

“You’re mom’s nice,” He smiled, “Sorry for showing up without notice but I didn’t give you my number or vice versa. So I asked around town.”

“Its fine,” I smiled. To be honest I was shocked he came back at all. I mean I didn’t peg him as a womanizer but I didn’t fool myself into thinking a rock star would stay in Montana because of a couple of days with a girl.

“Shall we?” I asked waving my arm to the house. He nodded and followed my lead into the old home. I stopped at the screen door when I saw my Da standing behind it. He didn’t say anything or do anything but walk back into the house.

The home had a crisp air to it. It always did. In the summer it was a haven from the sun. In the winter it had the charm that made you never want to leave. It was home in ever sense of the word. Right now though I was nervous. I looked into the kitchen then the living room. My mother sat on the couch with a blank expression.

“Was that guy your Dad?” I turned and nodded. I grabbed his hand as a sign of faith. I was starting to think Zacky thought he made a mistake by coming here. I walked him to the back of the house into the den. My Da sat on the wicker couch reading the morning paper.

“Da, this is Zackary.” He looked up, nodded then went back to his paper. I pulled Zacky out of the room before either of them had a chance to speak.

“Thirsty?” I asked.

“Yeah,” He trailed off as I tugged him into the kitchen. I felt like a sixteen year old bringing home her first boyfriend. In reality I was a Twenty-four year old bringing a fling home.

I dropped his hand and walked to the glass paned cabinets and pulled out a couple of glasses. I froze when my mother stood in the entry way. Zacky noticed my discomfort.

“Have you seen Linette?” Zacky opened his mouth but I cut him off.

“Why don’t you ask Charles?” I asked sweetly. She smiled back brightly and left the kitchen. Zacky gave me another look of confusion. I set the glasses on the table and moved by him to grab a jug of lemonade.

I had only made it this morning because I wanted some. Most of the time we survived on water and cranberry juice.

I filled both glasses and handed him one. He looked at me awkwardly but drank the cool liquid. I waited till we both finished drinking to set the glasses in the sink. I opened my mouth to say something but my father interrupted.

“Nettie, your mother and I are going to take a quick walk,” He eyed Zacky, “We’ll be back soon.” It wasn’t as much of a ‘just so you know’ as a don’t try anything. I nodded and smiled brightly. My mother tugged at my father dragging him out of the house.

“Why did your mother ask you where you were?” I sighed.

“Remember how I told you that my father got into an argument about me getting that internship the next town over and he was mad I was leaving because my mother had left him,”

“But she’s here…” He trailed off.

“My mom has early onset memory loss. She can have days were she still thinks I’m a child. She can have days were she remembers everything. Sometimes she wakes up and wonders why she’s not in Chicago.” I explained.

It was quiet for a little while. I was waiting for Zacky to really consider this trip a mistake and find a polite way to leave. This is when the Adult Zacky came into play.

“How about you give me a tour? I’ve never really seen a house like this in real life,” He laughed. It was that laugh that made me feel better about…everything.

I looked up at Zacky who was staring at me waiting for an answer to a question I didn’t hear. He must’ve gathered from the puzzled look on my face that I didn’t hear what he said.

“I said ‘why did you really come back?’” He asked.

“Because…” I didn’t really know. I mean I couldn’t say it was because I still cared for him. I couldn’t put myself in such a vulnerable position. Not this soon. I was saved by the bell or the ringing of the house phone.

Zacky answered and looked at me awkwardly.

“Yeah she’s right here,” This time I quirked my brow. He put the phone on his shoulder.

“Mind explaining why your father is calling my house asking for you?”