“Oh honey, why only be married once?” she said, tucking a few jars of pasta sauce into one of the cabinets. “Love is far too fun to experience it with just one person your entire life. But then again, I’m sort of a lush when it comes to romance.” She shrugged. “I like the feeling of being drunk off another person. And who’s to say what’s right and what’s wrong when it comes to relationships?”
“Everyone,” I chimed in. “In my experience, anyway.”
She gathered the spare plastic bags from the counter and tied them all together, tossing them under the sink for later use. “Yeah well, you ever wonder why so many have an opinion about what you do with your life, though? Is it because they really think what you’re doing is wrong, or is it because they need to convince themselves that what they’re doing is right?” Momma Von didn’t give me a chance to respond before brushing her hands off and hooking her arm through mine. “Come, let’s walk.”
It was a beautiful afternoon, a light breeze sweeping in through the trees and the cabins to meet where Momma Von and I walked on the road between them. It wasn’t hot just yet, but it was warm enough to wear shorts, and I tucked my hands into the pocket of mine as we strolled by the next cabin.
“So that’s Martha and Lou’s, you’ll meet them at the annual pig roast.”
“Pig roast?”
“Oh yes, it’s quite the summer event around here. The whole community kind of turns into a block party. There’s horseshoe tournaments, multiple kegs, family events for the kids and plenty of adult entertainment well into the night. Lots of fun, lots of trouble,” she added with a wink. “But yeah, Martha and Lou have been married since they were born, practically. They stay down south in Florida for the winters but always come back for the summer for the pig roast.”
I laughed, the idea of having an entire event centered around roasting a farm animal absolutely ludicrous to me. But Momma Von was dead serious, and the more we walked, the more I discovered she was hell bent on me attending. She was in the middle of brainstorming what activities I could help plan for it when a little boy came barreling out into the street, completely naked.
“Wee wee, wee wee, wee wee!” he chanted, chubby legs taking him just past us before a woman around my age came racing after him.
“You stop right now, Benjamin, or so help me I’ll tan your hide!”
Momma Von laughed. “I told you once he started walking, you’d be in trouble.”
“Not the time, Momma Von,” the woman said in a rush as she passed us, long black hair flying behind her, but there was a hint of a smile on her face.
She finally caught Benjamin, swinging him up and over her shoulders as he giggled with delight. She smacked his bare butt playfully, keeping him hoisted as she walked our way again.
“I was just about to put this little monster down for a nap and make some adult Kool-Aid, you want a glass?” she asked, Benjamin squirming in her arms.
“Well I never turn down your potion, Yvette.”
“Maybe one day it’ll be as renowned as your hooch.”
The young woman smiled, her dark hazelnut eyes finding me next. I figured out quickly that this little community wasn’t used to newcomers, because she looked at me the exact same way Abdiel and Momma Von did.
“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met,” she said, extending the hand not holding Benjamin in place.
“This is Wren,” Momma Von answered for me. “She’s staying down in Abdiel’s cabin for the summer.”
“Oh? I thought he was selling?”
“He still is, but she’s here for the summer only,” Momma Von said, and the two of them shared a look that told me they’d be discussing that in more detail later when I wasn’t around.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. Come on in, I’ll fix us up an afternoon treat.”
We followed her inside, me trailing in last, eyes wandering across the vast yard that led around their cabin and straight to the river. The trees had all been cleared away, unlike Abdiel’s cabin, which made for a stunning view of the mountains and the water.
There were several people already inside as Yvette climbed the stairs to put Benjamin down for his nap, and I shook each of their hands, hoping I’d remember their names later, realizing the likelihood of that was slim. I was the absolute worst at names, a flaw that reared its ugly head often in my line of work. I focused on repeating the names, taking in the characteristics, and listening to the stories Momma Von had to tell about each of them.
Yvette and Davie were my age, a young married couple who had been high school sweethearts like Keith and I were. Hearing their story sent a small pang through my heart, one that was fleeting but took my breath along with it as I watched them together. They were like night and day, her features dark and claiming a Native American heritage where his was pale as moonlight, his hair a bright strawberry blonde. He watched her make our drinks like there wasn’t a single thing in the world more pleasant to view, and she snuck glances over her shoulder at him, promises made between them that I felt I wasn’t meant to see.
Keith used to look at me that way, with that spark in his eyes. His hands never left my body for long, and his words were like sweet cinnamon as he kissed promises across my skin any chance he got. Seeing Davie and Yvette together made me miss him, or maybe the idea of him, since that version no longer existed.
There was another couple around my age there, though I learned quickly that they were not a couple.
Sarah’s cheekbones were high, and so was her ponytail, which perfectly matched her nose that she held in the air as she appraised me. While everyone else smiled and asked about me, she simply watched me with narrow eyes, not like she felt threatened by me, but rather like she was annoyed and wanted me to disappear.
Tucker, on the other hand, was looking at me like a steamy slice of pizza.
He was attractive, built in all the right places with a megawatt smile and pretty boy hair, but something about him made me feel a little uneasy. Maybe it was that I was the new shiny toy that everyone in the room was staring at, or maybe it was that his particular stare made me feel like I left half my clothes at home. I even patted down my shorts at one point, just to be sure.
The conversation was easy, mostly led by Momma Von. I had no problem sitting back as a spectator and sipping my drink, which was actually quite strong for a fruity pink lemonade. Tucker asked me the most questions, his eyes never leaving me for more than a few minutes, and though I should have felt flattered or perhaps intrigued, I felt more like his prey.
“Can I just say something?” Yvette asked as she grabbed Davie’s glass for a refill. “You are so pretty, Wren. I mean, your makeup is amazing, but those clothes? It’s like you walked straight out of a magazine.” She set the pitcher back down and slid the freshly filled glass to Davie. “I can’t even remember the last time I wore makeup. Or clothes that didn’t smell like baby food.”
Davie laughed, his hand gently squeezing her leg under the table.
I tucked my hair behind my ear, cheeks burning as I glanced down at my outfit. It was simple, a thin white blouse with a deep V and delicate straps hugging my shoulders. I’d tucked it into my favorite beige, high-waisted pleated shorts I’d designed for our spring line, and my feet were strapped into a comfortable pair of taupe lace up sandals. The same three necklaces I always wore wrapped around my neck, all of them dainty chains and charms varying in length with the longest disappearing between my barely-there cleavage under the blouse. The whole outfit was clean and casual, but looking around at their jeans and sundresses, I realized I didn’t exactly fit in.