False Start (Love and Skate) (4 page)

Hayes

One day
, when I grow up, I want a pet octopus in a tank.

My phone rang way too early on a Sunday morning. I had just gotten to sleep.

“Hello?” I hadn’t even bothered to look at the caller ID.

“Tell me you are gonna pursue that fine assed bearded man.”

“Who?” I was awake enough to goad Vera now, just for waking me up.

“Don’t make me kick your ass. You know exactly who, we had to call in a crew to mop up the puddle from your drooling last night. And he was sitting right across from you, and you said nothing. You were chatting up that other girl about her dumb tattoos. Please, please, ask him out, let me live vicariously through you.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, “Look, I don’t even know how to get in touch with him. Anyway, he didn’t look all that interested. He ate without even looking up.”

She squealed into the phone, “Aha! So you were looking at him at dinner. If I can work my magic and get his number, will you ask him out, please? I need you to tell me how he smells.”

“That’s it, I’m calling Colt and telling him you’re having me sniff other men while he’s offshore.”

“Don’t you dare! I just need a life, that’s all. So will you?”

“Yes, good grief. If you get his number I will call him.”

“You know I went to high school with Owen, right?”

“Who’s Owen?”

“Owen Black.”

“Shit.”

“Yes, bestie, you are officially in deep shit.”

She slammed the phone down in my ear and I tossed it on the chair on the corner of the room.

Vera was seriously delusional if she thought I was going to ask a guy out.

I looked over at the alarm clock and realized it was later than I’d thought. In fact, it was almost ten fifteen and I was due at my parents for brunch at eleven.

I jumped out of bed, showered quickly and tried to run some kind of product in it, hoping it would behave itself. It didn’t work. After throwing it in a clip, I pulled on a pair of my favorite jeans, a vintage Coke shirt and some flip flops. I put on all my bracelets, all twenty of them, I refused to leave the house without something covering my wrists. Quickly, I grabbed my bag and by the time I headed out the door it was ten ‘til eleven. I hated being late to anything.

I drove up to the Acadian style home on the large expanse of land and blew out a sigh. My parents moved us here after my incident to give us more peace and remove me from all the pressures.

We used to live in Jefferson. Hazel and I both went to St. Agnes, upon my mother’s wishes. It was a rigorous school with demands of its own. But I’d taken on tons of extracurricular activities plus clubs and volunteer projects. I knew I was over my head, but somehow couldn’t bring myself to quit anything. And then one day I just snapped. That was the day we referred to as doomsday. But to me, it was a new lease on life.

“You made it,” my mom greeted as I walked in.

“I did.”

“So, I saw Vera today…”

“And she spilled her guts like an open cadaver,” I finished for her.

“Gross, Hay, don’t be so morose.” That was Hazel, my very proper, very uptight sister, followed by her equally snobby husband who walked like a large branch was lodged up his ass.

“Anyway,” my mom rolled her eyes at my sister, or was it me?

“She told me all about someone she called Beardy Smurf.”

“Really? I’ve been calling him Suspenders. I like mine better. I’ve seen him with less beard, he gets beardier as time passes. Did you actually get bread while you were at the bakery or did you and Vera just gossip the whole time?”

She scoffed and dragged me with her to the kitchen, “I got yeast rolls and a lemon
ganache cake. Now tell me about this guy.”

Hopping on the counter and grabbing a yeast roll, I answered, “I don’t even know him. I’ve seen him at the bouts and we had a little moment last night. But then over dinner he ignored
me the whole time. Who knows? I don’t even know his name. I know he’s one of the Black brothers, or he’s always with them. Maybe he’s a cousin or something.”

“Oh,” she fluttered to the kitchen,
racooning through her purse and coming out with a flour covered pink piece of paper which I recognized as a torn off order form from the bakery, “Vera told me to give you this.”

I looked at it and froze, “What is it?”
She feigned ignorance

“You already know what it is. Like she didn’t tell you.”

“His name is Rex! Call him now.”

“No. I will call him when I get home.”

“Oh great, another infamous Hayes first date. You should have a reality show or something.”

“Hush, Hazel.””

“No, I’m serious. I’d sit in my recliner and watch that show all night.”

I jumped down from the counter and began to walk towards the dining room, “You’d have to take that huge stick out of your ass first and then ask your ego to move over.”

In the reflection of the dining room mirror, I saw her flip me off. My sister was enraged when we left Jefferson and St. Agnes’ school. She was the queen bee of the school. But our parents thought it would be best for the both of us. But she’d held a grudge against me ever since.

We sat down.
Hazel and Baxter, his
real
name was Baxter, told us all about their new camp in Toledo Bend. They went so far as to tell us how much they paid for it and how much the mortgage was on it. But I couldn’t look at her husband without picturing Evan Baxter from Evan Almighty. I wanted to drop a hammer on his thumb just to see if he’d scream, “I’ve got a boo boo.”

“What are you all smiley about? If I had to ask a guy out, I wouldn’t be so happy. I mean, jeez, desperate much?”

“Zip it, Hazel,” my dad finally chimed in.

“You always take her side,” Hazel whined. I could hear the stomp of her foot under the table.

“Let’s just have a peaceful dinner,” my mom sighed.

“Fine.”

The rest of the meal Dad talked about the business. He didn’t do very much of the heavy lifting anymore. He had tons of mechanics working under him. My mom had never had to work.

Hazel left as soon as the last bite was taken and dragged Noah’s Ark with her.
The door closed and then my dad blurted out, “Don’t you just want to see him in a suit making all of those weird noises. You know like Jim Carey made him do when Evan Baxter was the reporter on Bruce Almighty?”

“Yes!” My mom agreed.

We laughed, going back and forth remembering the Almighty movies. And then they exchanged a glance.

Here we go.

“Hazel is gone. Tell us how you’re really doing.”

I scraped the lemon frosting from the side of my piece of cake, making a pile to indulge in later.

“I’m fine. I’m not sleeping much, but as long as I keep busy, but not too busy, I’m okay.”

My Dad grabbed my hand, “You’d tell us the moment you think you’re not, right?”

“Dad, yes. Come on. I have a lot better sense than I did when I was sixteen. And a lot better options than your Bic razor.”

Simultaneously they threw down their forks and groaned.
My mom hated when I talked about doomsday so candidly. I thought it was pretty damned funny—I was seriously ridiculous. It went on a lot more than just doomsday, but that was the dramatic climax.

“I’m sorry. I have to joke about it. Otherwise, I get all self-
flashlighty.”

“Self-
flashlighty, that’s a good one. And I don’t think they make Bic razors anymore, so you’re safe.”

“We should write them a letter and thank them for discontinuing their products.”

“Yes. I never understood why you didn’t use shaving cream. I mean, do you like those little red bumps?”

I gasped. There was nothing I loved more than my dad joining in on my smartass quips about that day.

“Dude, I thought I could count on you to do me a solid and hit me with some Aqua Velva. What the hell?”

“You know—we were fresh out. I keep tons in the cabinet now just in case.”

“Stop it!” My mom banged her fist on the table and though she was mad, she was also smiling.

“Sorry.” We said together.

Mom made Dad and I do the dishes for the table comedy while she went to her sewing room for some surprise she’d made for me. It was usually a derby skirt or something just as cool.

“Ho
w come Hazel never gets reprimanded?”

“She is
eternally punished, I defer you back to her husband—Baxter.”

I laughed, my dad was the best, “That’s true. She reminds me of the sister in Dirty Dancing.”

“Oh good Lord, please don’t mention that title in front of your mother. She’ll make me watch it.”

“Watch what?”

Dad shot me a look that begged me not to tell.

“Rambo. I think Dad has a man crush on Sylvester Stallone.”

“Thanks for that,” Dad mumbled under his breath.

I dried off my hands after finishing up and turned to see several things on the table. There were three new derby skirts in black, pink and one in bright green. And then there was a new set for my kitchen; a new apron, new dish towels with sewn on handles and new oven mitts. My mom knew me well.

“Thank you, Mom. They’re so nice.”

“You’re welcome. Now, you know I love you, but go home and call that boy. I’ve got a good feeling about this one. Plus, I’m about to make your Dad watch Dirty Dancing with me.
You two forget, I’ve got supersonic hearing.”

“Son of a—I’m looking forward to it, honey.”

“I can stay. I wanna watch it too.”

“No way, when it gets juicy, we’re
gonna make out on the couch. Go away!”

I almost gagged, but it was very endearing and gave me a little hope.

“Yes, get out. I forgot how make-outy your mom gets during that movie,” my Dad laughed and kissed the top of my head. I’d been dismissed.

On the way home, I
scrunched my pocket in my hand to make sure the piece of paper was still secure. I’d never asked a guy out before. But this guy—I had a feeling about him too. He might just be the one to make me or break me.

I danced around the note on the table for a half an hour. What if he had a girlfriend? Vera would’ve found that out for me, right? What if I croaked?

Screw it.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number. It rang several times before a deep voice,
deeper and raspier than I’d imagined, answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Hi, this is
Hayes from…”

“I know who you are.”

He sounded annoyed.

“So, I was calling to see if you’d like to go to dinner with me sometime, maybe Wednesday night? It’s the only night I don’t have practice or work.”

Silence, I was met with a full bucket of steaming silence.

“Ok, I get it. Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Goodbye.”

I banged the cellphone against my forehead.

Idiot, idiot, idiot
.

Life: 47 Hayes: 0

I threw myself on the polished wood floors and let myself give in to a fist pounding leg kicking toddler sized tantrum right there on the floor. It was ridiculous, I knew it. But I was just sick and tired of the dating game. And then my phone rang.

“What Vera? I did it, okay? I called him and asked him out and he just said effing nothing. I know he’s
super hot and all beardy. And every time I see him I just want to rip his suspenders off and drag him to the nearest corner and do unspeakable things but I can’t make him go out with me, so leave me alone!”

I hung up the phone and turned over just enough to open the bottom cabinet, throw it in the
crock pot, put the lid on it, and then shut the cabinet. It started ringing again but I ran from it, taking the stairs two at a time and drowning out the noise with the sound of bath water and my iPod set to the Sons of Sylvia.

I didn’t turn on my TV that night, instead I opted for an open window as a cool front had come in. And somewhere in between self-loathing and feeling like a first class
asshat, I drifted to sleep.

Two a.m. came before I wanted her to, and I went through my routine and got to work on time. I had to open the door which meant Vera was late, which happened all the time. I got the coffee makers ready first, and took cakes for the display area out of the freezer. After thirty minutes lapsed, I reached in my pocket for my phone, but came up empty—I’d left it at home in the crock pot. I called Vera from the bakery phone and she said she was twenty minutes out. That meant she was at least forty five minutes out. She was one of those people—always said they were around the corner when they hadn’t even left the house yet.

I got all the yeas
t dough started, filled the display cases and started on the danishes and muffins. Vera gave me the grace to pick whatever I wanted to bake day to day. That day, I decided to make bacon French toast muffins, banana cream cheese muffins, and apricot cream cheese danishes. I’d also make the regular banana nut, blueberry and chocolate chip muffins, those were staples. And since fall was fast approaching, I decided to make apple turnovers and pumpkin spice baked donuts. Satisfied with my morning menu, I set to work mixing the batters as the rest of the crew filed in around me. Janis, the other baker came in at four, looked at my list and marked off the banana nut and blueberry muffins off and smiled at me before taking over those two items. And that’s how Vera’s bakery worked. I’d been working there for almost three years and never had there been a fight or even any tension in the place. We all worked together perfectly.