Kiss My Boots(6)

She waves me off, laughing softly as her gray ringlets dance around her face. I kid you not: the woman is in her fifties and rocks a hairstyle that would rival Shirley Temple’s.

“Uh-oh,” she says in response, a twinkle in her eye. “You have that look about you, sweet child. Who is he? Don’t tell me you didn’t learn a thing or two from your brother and Leighton last year. In the meantime, though, while you get your head all screwed on, I just started sellin’ those sexy toys that all you youngsters are playin’ with if you need some help with your hooha. You really shouldn’t let that kinda frustration fester.”

“Jana!” Leigh shouts from her office. “Boundaries!”

I let out a laugh that feels like the emotional release I’ve been cravin’ ever since settin’ eyes on that damn piece of paper. In addition to being the best bakery manager this side of Texas, Jana also happens to be quite . . . enlightened for a woman of her age. And not shy about lettin’ all of us younger ones know it, every chance she gets.

“She thinks I will somehow understand where these invisible lines of hers are if she keeps bellowing that word, but I’m too old to change my ways. Plus, you kids have too many ‘boundaries’ as it is.”

“I’m thinkin’ you might have a different understanding of that word, Jana.” I laugh sarcastically.

“Oh, hogwash.”

I roll my eyes, some of the dark feelings inside of me slinking away in the face of Jana’s overwhelming cheer. I ignore the rumble in my stomach when I pass my fridge—the special one that Leigh always makes sure is stocked with my favorite pies.

“Oh, shit,” Leigh screeches right before we almost collide. I was so busy lusting over a kitchen appliance that I didn’t see that she had come to stand in her office doorway, and I almost knocked right into her.

“Got a second?”

“Always,” she answers without an ounce of hesitation.

“I sent Maverick away,” I confess, pulling her into the office and shutting the door.

“And he let you?”

“He wasn’t gonna argue with me.”

She laughs softly. “You have to stop threatening his manhood.” I narrow my eyes and she holds her hands up. “What? I happen to be quite fond of it.”

“There are so many things wrong about that statement. Besides, I didn’t threaten his . . . manhood. I just needed my best friend.” Thrusting out my hand, I wait for her to hold hers out before unclenching the tight fist I clamped around that stupid piece of paper. I glance at it briefly as it falls into her waiting grasp and see that the ink has started to spider from my sweaty palms, but even so, there’s no mistaking the name scratched on it.

Leigh’s eyes widen as she reads it. “Oh . . . shit.”

I nod. “Yeah. Shit. That ’bout covers it.”

She looks up from the paper, holds my gaze for a beat, and then looks back down. “Are you going to call him?”

“Are you going to ask stupid questions?”

“It’s not stupid, Q! He called the shop. The shop. He might have been gone for a long damn time, but there’s no way he forgot who owns Davis Auto Works. Even if he really is just looking to get some work done on his shit, he called your shop. You were really upset when he never came back after that summer. Maybe, if anything, you can get some closure with this call.”

I feel a little bad knowing that she doesn’t understand the whole picture—something I’m reminded of when she plays down the heartbreaking pain I felt when he all but vanished. Of course, that’s what happens when you keep things from your best friend.

“There’s a good chance he doesn’t know it’s mine now, you know. The last time I talked to him I had just started working there full-time. For all he knows I don’t even live in this town anymore, let alone own my family’s shop. Anyway, I think it’s past time for closure.”

“That’s a load of bullshit and we both know it. You guys burned mighty hot that summer, Q. You let it mark you. Hell, you keep letting it mark you, even now, refusing to let yourself get close to a man.”

I sigh and drop down to Leigh’s “special visitor chair. It’s wedged between the wall and a filing cabinet because her office is so small, but I know she keeps it in here for me and me alone.

She moves around her desk and sits, still holding the paper in her hands. “Do you want me to talk you out of calling him or encourage you to do it?” Understanding is written all over her face. I know that either way, she will support me all the way through.

I honestly don’t know the answer. “He left me, Leigh. Even though that’s what happened at the end of every summer, that last time it was different. We weren’t high school kids anymore. He said he would be back, even though he was starting university, with med school to follow. We hadn’t ever gone too long without at least checking in with each other when he went home the years before that, but that last summer I give him all of me and he just vanishes. I spent a long damn time pinin’ after him, making a fool out of myself with desperate attempts to reach him. I just don’t understand how, after all this time, I can possibly handle seeing him again. How does he still have this dadgum power over my feelings, Leigh?”