Evie interrupted, p.6
Evie Interrupted, page 6
“Ha-ha. Shows what you know. He gave me his.”
Shit! I gotta stop drinking around her.
In an accusatory tone, Maine said, “Evie.”
My skin was burning up. “Before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my phone and typed in his number. I have no intention of using it. I’m not going to use it.”
“Have you used it?”
The hairs on my arms and legs stood straight up, pricking my skin. “I accidently fucking texted him last night!” I blurted out.
“Fuck a duck, you booty texted him!” Maine hollered.
“Booty toot,” Mom added.
“I did no such thing,” I announced. “It was a mistake.”
“Do tell and don’t leave out any details.”
“It was nothing. It was stupid. I couldn’t sleep, so I Googled him.”
Maine smiled. “Nothing like a good Google late at night.”
My nose crinkled. “Really? Do you have to make everything sexual?”
“Me?! You’re the one sexting a guy you barely know.”
“After I Googled I pulled up his—”
“Hold on. What did the search reveal?”
“Nothing much. He was a star quarterback in high school, then Notre Dame before being drafted by the Patriots.”
“I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”
The one thing I didn’t share with my bestie was the love of football. Maine thought the reason they called the position in the game a tight end was because the player had a tight end.
“I pulled up his contact info and typed ‘hey’ for some idiotic reason, probably from the lack of sleep. Then instead of deleting, I hit send by mistake.”
“And then what happened?”
“I screamed into my pillow.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your pillow. You know what I want. Did he text you back?”
I hesitated for a moment before caving under Maine’s intense glare.
“Yes.”
Scooting to the edge of her seat, Maine said, “Aaaand?”
“His first response was, ‘Who is this?’ I didn’t text back, but he did.”
Waving her hand, Maine fanned herself. “I’m getting the vapors.”
“He texted, ‘Evie?’”
“Oh, my Holy Father!”
“Oh, my holy farter,” Mom mimicked Maine. Kind of.
“That’s weird, right? That he would respond that way,” I said.
“I don’t think it’s weird at all. I think it’s hot as hell.”
“You think everything is hot as hell.”
“He’s obviously been thinking about you. Yearning for you. What did you text back?”
“Nothing.”
“What?!”
“I panicked!”
“She panicked,” Mom said.
Both Maine and I turned to look at Mom. On rare occasions she made a clear coherent comment. I smiled at the sight of her lips covered with Cheeto dust.
“Thank you, Mom.”
“You know this is going to happen, you and Butler,” Maine said.
“No. Nothing is going to happen.”
“Evie, stop being such a stick-in-the-mud. All I’m saying is if you get the chance to fuck him, fuck him. It will be good for you. It will make you happy.”
I was afraid being with Butler would make me happy. Too happy. I wasn’t going to admit out loud that something different happened to me when I was around him and it wasn’t just of a sexual nature. I was afraid spending time with him would be my undoing. The way he looked at me had me feeling things, and I’d just met the guy. I was so confused.
Maybe I was overthinking things. Reading too much into the way I reacted to him. Maybe Maine was right. Maybe a couple of sexcapades with the coach would help me destress and get him out of my system.
Memories
I was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for Mom to finish making her tea. Not that I ever timed her, but it felt like she was taking a very long time to boil water.
“Mom, what is it you need to talk to me about? Maine is coming over to study in twenty minutes.”
With mug in hand, she finally came over to the table, and sat down. Her focus was on the steam drifting from the hot drink in front of her.
“Mom? What is it? Oh my God! Did somebody die?”
Her head popped up immediately. “No, nothing like that.”
“Then what? You’re giving me the creeps.”
She inhaled and let it slowly seep out. “I’ve pictured this moment in my head a thousand times. And in each scenario, I handled it with grace, honesty, and like a cool mom.”
“I’m literally going to die if you don’t say something that makes sense.”
Her hand tightened around the mug. “Evie, you’re turning eleven next week and I want to talk with you about a very natural part of a woman’s life.”
“Is this the sex talk?”
Her face scrunched up. “Yes.”
“Oh my God! Hold on for one sec.”
I was out of my chair in a flash and dialing Maine’s phone number.
“Maine, my mom is about to have the sex talk with me.”
Laughter exploded from the other end of the phone.
“Evie!”
Ignoring her order, I said into the phone, “Because I’m turning eleven.” Pause. “You should have seen her face. Very serious. Mom, Maine wants to know if you’d wait until she gets here?” I tried to hold in my laughter.
“Evelyne Rose Chapman, hang up that phone and come sit down right now.”
“I better go. I just got three named. Yeah. Okay, see ya in twenty.”
I hung up the phone and tried to keep the smirk off my face as I sat back down.
“I take it from this little display that you know the ins and outs of things?” Mom said.
“You said, ‘ins and outs.’” I doubled over with laughter.
“Ha-ha, Evie. Do you have any questions?”
Wiping tears from my cheeks I attempted to catch my breath. “Not at the moment.”
“Fine. Then get out of here.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” She smiled.
I headed toward my room but stopped and turned back toward her. “Thanks for being such a cool mom.”
She blinked back tears. I turned and made it halfway down the hall before another fit of laughter took over.
Present
The week went by with the usual ups and downs. When Mom’s dementia first started, she’d have good days and bad days like everyone else. As the disease progressed, her moods got more unpredictable. One minute she’d be fine and the next she’d blow up with anger and frustration. Last night was a particularly rough one.
Mom was agitated, taking clothes from her closet and drawers, placing them all around the house. At one point, she ripped up a bunch of paper towels, put them in a bowl, and poured water over them. I found the sopping mess on the kitchen table. I figured this must have happened during the two minutes I took to go to the bathroom.
Between my normal weariness and the rollercoaster of last night, I was happy when Liza showed up a little early to watch Mom. I debated whether to stick to my usual routine of going to Dough-Mates, concerned I might run into Butler. I never returned his text. I could have simply explained that it was meant for someone else. But by the time I came up with that genius excuse two days had passed and I figured why poke the bear. So, I let it go. Kind of.
“You’re sure you didn’t happen to mention it to him?” I questioned Maine.
My entire body was twitchy as I stood at the counter trying to find out how or why Butler thought it was me who sent the text last Friday.
“Evie, I swear to you the only words we’ve exchanged are, ‘Can I help you?’ and ‘I’ll have a dark-roast grande.’”
“Then why are you smirking?”
As she created my mocha latte, Maine chuckled. It was slight, but a chuckle nonetheless.
“Because I love that you booty texted him—”
My gaze flitted around making sure no one was within earshot. “I did not booty text him. It was a mistake. Don’t you think his response was more than a little odd? I mean, why would he think it was me, anyway?”
Maine slid the steaming cup toward me. “Maybe it was just a coincidence.”
“I don’t know. How many Evies do you know?”
Suddenly, Maine’s pink lips pursed in a straight line as her bright blue gaze lifted with her black eyebrows. “Hey. There. You.”
I didn’t need to turn around to see who she was greeting. I could feel it the second he walked into the café. After only two encounters, there was no doubt that Butler had a presence about him when he entered a room that was hard to ignore. The closer he got, the queasier my stomach got. I stared ahead, making no move to turn toward him.
“Hey…Maine, right?” he said, staying at the far end of the counter.
The sound of his voice did things to me. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, her gaze bounced back and forth between me and him. “Yep. In the mood for your usual, dark-roast grande?”
“You remember,” he said.
“That’s my job.”
Were the two of them flirting? Not that it mattered to me in the slightest. They’d look good together. Both tall, dark, and gorgeous. I’d be ecstatic for my best friend if Butler was her Prince Charming. Oh God, what if Butler was her Prince Charming?
Maine looked at me wide-eyed, communicating telepathically that she had to leave me here. Alone. With Butler, while she filled his order. The second she turned away my gaze inadvertently glanced at him.
“Evie?”
Just act like you don’t hear him. Which is stupid. He’s standing a few feet away. You’d have to be completely deaf not to hear the smooth deep tone of his voice.
My head turned in his direction. “Oh, hey…?” I made sure there was just the right amount of questioning in my tone. “Butler, right?”
“That’s right. Butler.”
I tried not to ogle him in his workout gear, but damn, I was a young vibrant woman with no remnants of a social life.
“Do you come in here the same time every Saturday?” he said, stepping closer.
I blew out a sigh, and nonchalantly said, “No. Not every Saturday. I…um…like to keep it loose. Go where and when the wind blows me.”
A burst of muffled laughter flew from the bank of coffee makers where Maine stood.
“So, it occurred to me that other than a guy I work with, you’re my only other friend here in town.”
“Really. Well, you should get out and meet people.”
The tip of his tongue slid over his bottom lip. “I was hoping you’d have time to give me a tour of downtown. Maybe tomorrow?”
“I can’t tomorrow.”
“I’m free most nights.”
He was really playing hardball. The back of my neck heated. “I’m busy most nights…and days.”
His brown eyes caught my green ones. His gaze was a mixture of warmth, kindness, depth, and heat. Butler’s eyes were the kind of eyes that I wanted looking into mine. I needed to make a mental note not to look directly into them.
“Why don’t you text me your schedule and we can make a plan,” Butler said.
Out of nowhere, Maine’s voice rumbled in my ears.
“If you both have time now, why don’t you grab a table and make plans? No time like the present,” she said, her voice dancing with glee.
Whipping my head in her direction, I glared at my best friend, not finding her interference funny at all. Maine looked at me with a huge smile on her face.
“I’m sure Butler doesn’t have time now—”
“I’m free as a bird,” he chimed in. “All I have going on is the gym, groceries, and laundry.”
My grip tightened around my cup. “Well, let’s grab a table, then.”
The place was half empty, so our options were open.
Tilting his chin up, Butler said, “How about that one in the corner?”
“Oh, that’s a good one. Intimate. Private. The view is incredible,” Maine said.
Hiding my sneer from Butler, I aimed it toward her. “Thank you so much, Maine. You’ve been more than helpful.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” A huge grin took over her face.
I made my way over to the corner with Butler close behind. Thank God he hadn’t picked Ben’s and my table. I’d feel awkward. Butler would think it’s because of him. Then I’d have to explain the Ben thing.
Once we got to the table, he reached around and grabbed the back of my chair, sliding it out.
“What are you doing?” I said, confused.
“Pulling out the chair for you.” He winked.
Not once in the time Ben and I were together did he pull out my chair or open a door of any kind for me. Somewhere I’d gotten the idea that it was a gesture from bygone days showing a male’s dominance over a female. But the way Butler did it wasn’t condescending or arrogant. It made me feel special. Incredible how such a simple act affected me.
I blinked away my thoughts as Butler came into view across from me. We both took a sip of our coffees, peering over the rim of our cups at each other.
His gaze dropped for a few seconds and then popped back up to mine. “Listen, we don’t have to make any plans. I don’t want you to feel forced into doing something you don’t want to do.”
The expression on his face was a mixture of anticipation and disappointment. Warmth spread from my chest to various other parts of my body. A voice inside told me to shut this down. Nothing could ever come of it. I had obligations that this guy would not understand or want to deal with. So, imagine my surprise when I heard words to the contrary coming out of my mouth.
“I don’t feel forced. I would need to rearrange a few things I have going on tomorrow before giving you a definite yes.”
Butler’s face lit up with hope. What the fuck was I doing? Had I gone insane? Liza only watches Mom on Saturdays. She leaves Sundays open for her family. There’s no one else I could call on such short notice.
“Great. Once you rearrange just text me the time and your address.”
“My address?”
“So, I can come pick you up.”
“I’m running errands in the morning. How about we meet here?”
I kept digging that hole deeper and deeper.
“Sounds good. Thanks, Evie for doing this.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“I hope so.” He smiled, causing his dimples to pop.
I could get lost in those dimples. Realizing I was staring, I shook the fog from my head. This guy did weird things to me and I didn’t even know him.
“How long have you been in town, anyway?” I asked.
“A little over a month. How about you?”
“I grew up here.”
“Ah, a sweet southern lady.”
“Well, I’m southern.” I lifted my cup to my mouth to hide a smile.
“You’re selling yourself short. I bet you’re very sweet.”
This conversation was heading in a dangerous flirtatious direction that I needed to roadblock.
“Do you like being a high school football coach?”
Jesus, Evie, what a lame question.
“I do actually,” he said like his answer surprised him. “It wasn’t in the plan, but you know how life can toss curveballs at you.”
“Yes, I do. What was your plan? You don’t have to answer if you don’t feel like it.”
“A longer career in pro football.”
“And the curveball?” I said, not letting on I already knew at least one of the curveballs thrown his way.
“Knee blew out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’d been thinking of quitting. Too many bumps to the head. But then the decision was made for me. I held a pity party for a while, then thought I could help in some way to make the game safer. This coaching job kind of landed in my lap. My buddy, Mooch…”
“Mooch?”
Butler chuckled. “Nickname. His real name is Marion. We were the two freshmen on the football team first semester in college. He hated his name, and he was famous for mooching, so it seemed like an appropriate nickname. Stupid guy stuff.”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “I know all about nicknames.”
“Yeah? Let me guess…49er?”
My face contorted. “Where’d that come from?”
“That was the hoodie you were wearing when you were sleeping on the sofa.”
How sweet. He remembered what I was wearing. Ugh, of course he remembered because it was hideous.
“Is everything football with you?” I teased.
“Not everything. I’ll have you know I’m a master chef as well as jigsaw puzzle champ.”
“Oh my God, you cook?!”
He gave me a mock shocked look. “The puzzle part didn’t impress?”
“Honestly, it sounds a little old man-y. Besides, I can’t eat puzzles.”
“My inner nerd is officially offended.”
“Sorry.”
Butler’s phone buzzed with a text. “Sorry, it’s Mooch. He’s waiting for me at the gym.”
While he read, I took the opportunity to get a lingering look at him. Sure, he was beautiful on the outside, but there was something about Butler that excited me and calmed me all at once. It had been such a long time since anyone asked about me, or wanted to spend time with me, that these spurts of attention from him made me realize how starved for affection I had become.
He typed out a short reply and then focused back on me.
“I’ll just have to show you how cool puzzles are when you come for dinner.” Holding my gaze, he stood.
“We haven’t even made definite plans for tomorrow and you’re already talking dinner. What if we find out we don’t like to be around each other?”
Placing his palms flat on the table and leaning down, he said, “I already know I like being around you, so I guess the ball’s in your court, Evie Chapman. Don’t forget to text me.”
I watched as Butler walked away, admiring the back as much as I did the front. I also noticed every pair of female eyes in the café admired it too. I was so enthralled with Butler’s departing booty that I startled when Maine appeared at the table.
