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A lotta people liked to say that the countryside was deader than roadkill, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Though awfully devoid of car horns one might hear in a New York traffic jam, the wheat fields of Idaho had their own charm. The wind sometimes blew real fiercely, whipping your hair by your ears, and when the cattle roamed you could hear their content croons that bounced all over the hills, like they were comin’ from everywhere at once. Being nearly two ‘n a half hours from the nearest city, it was a quiet, lonely life out back.
But, y’see, Nephenee never really felt what philosophers called loneliness, ‘cause when you’ve got a family of five younger siblings—three of which are triplet boys, mind you—and a real hard-working family-woman Ma, the big countryside ain’t quite as daunting no more. If anything, she felt the loneliest when she was at school, pulling her cap over her eyes because a city kid laughed at her thick accent.
‘Cause the countryside can’t talk to ya, and if it could, it wouldn’t make fun of the way you talk. When she came home downcast, her Pa used to say “Every dog barks a bit differently, y’hear?” and it’d cheer her right back up, fit as a fiddle.
It was no surprise to Nephenee that today was so quiet; the boys were inside, too whipped from the heat to complain much, and the girls were helping Ma with the fields, so there was no squabble to hear from the porch this time. That left Nephenee with all the time in the world—at least, ‘til dinner—to check on the greenhouse, comb through the fields checking for rodents, all of which barely left her with enough time to take Bentley out for a ride. The heat would’ve been unbearable to anyone else who hadn’t grown up in the fields, but it still made her blood rush to her cheeks.
Her blood had, in fact, been pounding so hard between her ears she’d barely heard the singularity of a motor coughing smoke in the distance, followed by a curse word her Ma would wash her mouth out with soap for saying. Guided only by her ears, Nephenee cupped her hand over her brow and clicked her tongue. She pulled the reigns to the right, towards the road, kicking up a storm of dust in Bentley’s wake.
“Stupid… piece of garbage….”
The sounds she heard before grew louder as she approached a silhouetted figure on the horizon. She made out the chipped paint of a blue 1977 Chevy, broken and beaten on the side of the road with a bunch of stuff filled in the backseat, and pacing around the engine was a woman. A blonde, tall woman in slick jeans and boots with heels that could kill—way too pretty t’be driving a hand-me-down truck like that, but who was Nephenee to question a stranger’s tastes?
She almost spoke up when the woman groaned and kicked a tire with her boot, muttering somethin’ akin to “Stupid shitty car.” The kick apparently scared Bentley, who, irritated, flicked his tail and backed off.
“Er—um,”–Nephenee reigned in her nerves—“I’m sorry to intrude, miss, but it looks t’me like you might need some help.”
Bentley grumpily swung his head, as if he wanted to leave this stranger to wither on the side of the road. The woman who’d been glaring at her truck spoke before swinging her head.
“What do you—oh.” For a moment, she’d almost sounded angry. But as soon as she’d turned her gaze to Nephenee—her jaw still hung in an ‘o’ shape catching flies, and she had to tilt upwards since Bentley gave Nephenee height—she looked stunned. She had this look—a city-girl look, with nice long legs encased in every inch with nice denim jeans, an equally nice denim jacket that must’ve been hot in this heat, and a pale blue, loose tank top underneath. To complete the look, she had these dangly earrings—y’know, the ones with the hoops, that look kinda dangerous ‘cause they could catch on something, but she was wearing them like they were an extension of herself, like without ‘em she wouldn’t even have ears. When she flipped her hair, the earrings flipped too and jangled like wedding bells. Her lips shone in the sun—maybe some pale lip gloss?—and curved upwards in a smile that nearly blinded poor Nephenee.
And, whoa nelly, did Nephenee mention them jeans?
“Er, yeah,” Nephenee dipped her head as she dismounted Bentley. “I mean, if y’got it under control—I don’t mean t’ pry or nothin’—“
“Goodness me, this must be my lucky day,” the woman suddenly said. Nephenee retracted her words, pausing as the other woman’s frowning brows gave way to a charming smile. “My truck just so happened to shit itself right in front of a cute girl. I must be the luckiest gal on the entire planet.”
Nephenee’s cheeks couldn’t burn more if they tried. “I, er, didn’t think havin’ yer car break down in the middle ‘a nowhere was a strike ‘a good fortune.”
“It all depends on the company you keep, dear.” She winked.
Nephenee chuckled nervously. “I don’t think I caught yer name.”
The woman mock-gasped. “How rude of me! You can call me Heather.” She leaned against her truck, which creaked in protest. “And what about your cute self?”
If the heat didn’t get to her cheeks first, this woman’s brazenness would’ve.
“I’m Nephenee. It’s mighty nice to meet you, Heather.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Nephenee.” Heather paused. “Nephenee… Nephenee….”
“Hm? Uh?”
“No, no, I’m sorry. It’s just that your name is unbelievably pretty. Almost as pretty as you. It’s real fitting.”
Nephenee felt like eyes were boring into her soul, and it was as if Heather could hear ‘n see all her thoughts. Maybe that’s why her next words tumbled out of her mouth unrestrained, barely a whisper.
“L-like them jeans?”
She really, really, really had hoped to the stars above that Heather hadn’t heard what’d just tripped outta her mouth like she was runnin’ a three-legged race, but the grin on her face told otherwise.
Nephenee swallowed. “I-I mean… I didn’t mean ta… A-anyway, ‘m sure you don’t wanna stand ‘round here in the heat all day. I can take a look at yer truck for ya if you’d like.”
Heather seemed satisfied with the amount that Nephenee had stuttered and acquiesced the topic change. “Aren’t you just the sweetest. Cute and sweet.” She stepped aside. Nephenee opened her truck’s engine and hid her burning cheeks behind the lid, smoke and smog be damned. She held her breath, trying to duck away from the sizzling hood but also nervous to let Heather see her face again.
“It’s probably something with the engine,” Heather said, bouncing her knee, “the engine’s always had problems.”
Nephenee peeked out from under the hood. “So this happens pretty often?”
“A bit,” she agreed.
“You ever gonna replace it?” It was, in truth and honesty, nothing more than an innocent question, but Nephenee wondered if the gal had taken it the wrong way—like she was tellin’ her what to do, or something.
Heather never gave her the opportunity to amend herself. Instead, Heather shrugged and shifted her gaze from the ground to Nephenee. “Well, if I’d done that, then there’s no way I would’ve met a cute thing like you to help fix it, hm?”
Nephenee scratched the back of her neck. “Aw, shucks. I just figured I’d help out a stranger in need, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s an awfully chivalrous thing of you to do, Nephenee. And they say chilvary’s dead.” Nephenee gave no reply, but the shuffling of her feet must’ve told wonders to Heather ‘cause she looked awfully pleased with herself.
Heather sauntered over. “D’you think you can fix it?”
“Um, well, I can certainly take a better look at it at the farm. I’ve got a toolkit ripe for the job I reckon.”
Heather tilted her head with what Nephenee could only assume to be genuine curiosity. “You live on a farm?”
“Yeah, with my Ma and my brothers—the Three Terrors, as Ma likes t’call ‘em—and two other lil ‘uns. Oh, er, uh—“ Nephenee briefly lowered the hood of Heather’s truck to gesture at the chestnut horse now grazing off to the side. “—that’s Bentley. He’s the oldest horse we got. Knew ‘em when I was a lil ‘un myself.”
As Nephenee spoke, Bentley reared his head up and nipped the air in Heather’s direction.
“A charming horse for an even lovelier knight.” Heather winked, without ever looking at the horse. “Seems like you’ve got a big family.”
“Heh, they’re equally as demandin’ as they are kind.” Nephenee cleared her throat. “Say, Heather, would ya mind waitin’ here for me? I’ve gotta go grab the tractor ‘n tow cables, and I’d ask if ya’d like to come with, but I’m sure y’don’t wanna leave your truck here by itself, right?”
“You’d leave a distressed damsel all alone in this droll heat?” she teased, pursing her lips in a fake pout. “Promise you’ll be back for me.”
And Nephenee played along. “Promise. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” she said, sliding into Bentley’s saddle.
“I’ll be waiting, then.”
Truth be told, Nephenee didn’t really think it all through as she told her Ma the story of a drop-dead gorgeous and dashing (some of which adjectives were conveniently left out) stranger she met on the side of the road who was kicking her car like it’d help. Yeah, she decided in the end, she didn’t blame her Ma at all for meeting her naïve story straight outta some children’s book with a resounding “What in tarnation is wrong with you?”
And that was not the end of her Ma’s berating. “Now, what if he was a creep? Y’don’t just pick up hitch hikers, now, Nephenee, especially not with a horse. Thought I raised ya better than that, but clearly your Pa dropped ya on yer head as a young ‘un!”
“With all due respect, Ma, it was a lady. She needed help and was real nice about it. No creeps or nothin’.”
Her Ma added a pinch of salt to the stew she stirred, letting the wooden ladle smack the stove. “But y’don’t know if there was summin in the backseat, Nephenee.”
“But the backseat was full a—“
“Gosh darnit, there ain’t nothing t’be done now that you’ve gone ‘n promised, but I expect you t’be more considerate of yer safety, got it?”
“’Course, Ma. I gotta go pick up her truck, so I’ll be takin’ the tractor. Will the girls be back soon?”
“’Fore dinner. You’d best hurry, or you’ll be eatin’ cold strew. An’ invite the girl over. We ain’t rude folk.”
Nephenee didn’t really have much time to think of her Ma’s words and left before she could change her mind. A lotta things were reelin’ through her mind at the time but she was hard-pressed to push ‘em back, at least until she’d gone through with her promise. She’d fix her truck, Heather would stay for dinner, an’ then she’d leave, and that was that and that was it, and she thought this as the engine of the tractor purred under her fingers.
When she came bumblin’ down the dirt and grass of the roadside she half-expected that strange gal to be long gone over the hills. She was pleasantly surprised to find Heather in the bed of her truck, boots kicked up and neck resting on the trunk door, bangs brushing every now ‘n then against her forehead. Her eyes were closed, but if she really was sleeping, she ain’t now. Not with the tractor’s embarrassingly loud engine clucking down the side of the road like a chicken starved.
As Heather opened one eye a smile came to her face. She leapt down from her truck’s bed after turning herself over, swinging one long leg after the other as her boot heel planted firmly in the ground. She then leaned against the door, arms crossed together and one boot heel clicking against a charm that dangled from her other boot. They knocked together in what Nephenee could only describe as a nice sound.
Nephenee chuckled nervously as she coupled the truck’s hook to the tractor with gloved hands. She tested the strength with a tug and watched Heather out of the corner of her eye as she hopped into the seat next to her and leaned back comfortably, like she wasn’t sitting on a tractor with a stranger, like she’d done this before. Got up there all by herself too.
“So, uh,” Nephenee began, as she started the tractor forward carefully, “where exactly you headed? There ain’t much out this way for a while.”
Heather smiled like it was a silly question. “I’m just visiting some friends in the Midwest. Airfare is a bit too expensive for my wallet.”
“Ah. Yeah, that’s so.” Nephenee nodded. “But surely y’knew you wouldn’t get very far on that hunk-a-junk—er, no offense, it’s a nice hunk-a-junk, I just meant that—“
To Nephenee’s mortification and surprise, Heather laughed. She sputtered like the engine and hoped the rest of the trip would be filled with silence—apart from the rumbling and grumbling of the tractor. Nephenee wanted to ask why she had so much stuff filling her backseat, but figured Heather wouldn’t appreciate her nosiness. She didn’t seem like the type to talk much about herself anyhow—she sure was a real mystery.
Despite the woman’s terrifyingly stern aura, Nephenee’s mom’s cooking was warm and soft, and she was a nice lady. To be particularly honest, it reminded Heather of her own mother’s cooking, before she became too ill to even stand at the stove by herself.
The family talked more than they ate, leaving Heather to finish first—not without a couple interrogations as a side dish. She probably answered three questions for every sip of soup she took, mostly from the siblings, questions about the city and the like. And it was a good soup, mind you, but Heather felt she couldn’t enjoy it to its full potential with all this chatter. But it was a nice, homely home and a homely stew, and Heather really couldn’t complain when she’d been so graciously accepted after the shit she had to go through today.
Totally worth it, though, considering certain assets.
They’d asked her a lotta things—where she came from, where she was goin’, what kinda family she had, and just about every question was answered with a lie, or a half-truth, or somethin’ in between. Now, it wasn’t outta some kind of malicious intent; it was just business. Besides, it’s not like she was surveying the house for some precious glittery jewels; she had more honor than that. No, it was just a bit of a pain, but it couldn’t be worse than having her truck break down in the middle of the wilderness, and it was definitely worth it if it meant she could spend just a little more time with Nephenee.
She’d leave soon as her damn truck was fixed—courtesy of a beautiful woman—and be on her way again.
There were two lone empty chairs in the dining room—one was set, with spoon and stew untouched, and the other barren with dust lining the wood. It wasn’t exactly a cutesy kinda chair, so Heather had little clue as to why they’d keep an old broken chair. Maybe that was just the taste of country folk, like she had any room to talk.
“Are you lookin’ for somethin’ in my Nephie?”
Heather nearly choked on her own spit. “Excuse me?” Now gosh darn if Nephie wasn’t the cutest nickname in the entire damn countryside, but, “excuse me?”
“Ya heard me. You lookin’ to take advantage of my daughter’s kindness? She’s a deep soul, y’know, and I don’t take kindly to people usin’ her for her good nature.”
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding here, Missus.” Heather brought two hands up in defense. Must’ve been the first time in a long time she’d been caught off-guard by a question. Usually she had these sorts of things prepped out beforehand, but Nephenee’s mom was bolder than she thought.
“That ain’t an answer.” Her eyes narrowed. Guess she had a real good bullshit detector.
“Sorry, ma’am. I have no intentions of anything of the sort. I’m leaving soon as my truck is fixed and you’ll never hear nor see of me again.”
Nephenee’s mom snorted, as if she didn’t believe any ‘a that horse dung. Heather was being truthful, though, for once; Nephenee was cute ‘n all, but she’d seen a lotta cute girls before, and even though Nephenee’s cuteness broke her own scale of one-to-ten, there was no reason to pursue something so fleeting when Nephenee might not even—well, swing that way.
Though she’d been awfully receptive to her previous “advancements,” that could’ve just been the typical country shyness. Plus, Heather lived out in the city, and Nephenee’s house a several-hour drive from where she practically lived. It’d never work, even if Nephenee did like her like that. And, well, there was no point in thinking about the impossible.
It was just like a summer fling—hardly even that. And some summer lovin’ wasn’t so bad, right?
When next she saw Nephenee, the girl was a standing, walking oil magnet. She had grease all up her arms, her cheeks, her forehead, and somehow it’d even gotten on her shoulder. It was actually rather dashing, in a greasy, horribly-smelling way—well, not to mention it showed off her rather broad shoulders and taut arms. Nephenee gestured to the car behind her—the same ol’ rusty truck.
“Well—I, er, I took the liberty of installin’ a new engine. It was pretty much that old engine’s time anyways. Looked t’me as if this wasn’t the first time it overheated.” Nephenee wiped her brow with a dirty cloth, stained gray and black and every shade between. “I hope y’don’t mind. My Pa—he was a real car-lover, especially them old cars—he used to have a nice red Vega, y’see, so a lotta his old things are still in the garage, an’ I just—I just, y’know, used what leftover parts we had. It ain’t a brand new engine per se, but it should do the trick for some miles.”
For the first time in quite possibly her entire life, Heather was stunned beyond words. All she could say was a few broken words. “I—you didn’t have to—“
“I know I didn’t have ta, but I wanted ta.” Nephenee smiled brilliantly. “Don’t mention it—it’s not like we were gonna use the parts for anythin’ else anyways. It was about time we cleared up some space in the garage.”
When Heather didn’t respond, Nephenee shuffled nervously. “So, how come y’never got it fixed? It must’ve been ready to give out for ages now.”
Heather’s mouth went dry as cotton. She could’ve lied—she could have easily lied. It would’ve been simple, just like all the other times. She was used to lying by now; she’d lied ‘bout everything. Stealing was lyin’, lyin’ was lyin’, and even the broken-down truck was a lie in itself, in some way. But for some reason, lying to this gal felt like it would’ve been a crime against humanity.
And yet, still, she couldn’t.
“Well, just a lack of money—y’know how it is.”
A partial-truth would have to do.
Before Nephenee could get another word in, Heather continued: “Anyway, I should get going. I don’t want to drive mostly in the dark out here. I’ll see you ‘round, cutie?” She threw a wink, mustering her characteristic nature with difficulty.
“Oh, well, er—yeah, sure, come back soon, y’hear?” Nephenee smiled and waved from the porch, and Heather could see her biceps from where she stood.
She turned and swayed and got into her truck, hands clammy on the wheel as she drove off not nearly as elegantly as she’d walked.
“That scoundrel’d better not come back,” Nephenee overheard her Ma say, “but I know she will.”
The pregnant silence was broken by four words.
“I met a girl.”
“A girl? Oh, that’s so nice to hear, Heather. I’m so glad you’ve finally met someone. When will I get to meet her?”
“No, mom—it’s not like that. Her name’s Nephenee. She’s just a friend. I mean, I guess she’s not really a friend, she just helped me out when the truck broke down. I probably wouldn’t have made it here today if it wasn’t for her. The truck’s engine broke, but she fixed it right back up.”
“She sounds wonderful. Tell me, what’s she like?”
Heather knew her mother wasn’t really listening—or paying attention, or something. The words weren’t quite reaching her. She almost looked as though she were nodding off. Outside it was dark, sure, but she’d been like this for a while now—always tired with little energy, but she was a handful in the wee hours of the morning.
“She’s nice, mom. Really nice. She’s a farmgirl, actually. Her mom owns it or something.”
“Oh, that’s nice. When will I get to meet her?”
“Mom, it’s not…” Heather set the milk carton down, pausing to take a breath. Then, she continued while her mother rested on the living room couch. “How have you been feeling?”
“Oh, I don’t know… Did I remember to vacuum?”
“It’s okay, Mom. I already vacuumed before I left.”
“Oh, yes, you did,” she agreed, but didn’t sound very convinced. “Did you do the laundry?”
“No, today’s Thursday.”
“Oh, yes.”
Heather shut the fridge and returned to the couch with two yogurt cups—she’d decided against chips since the crunching tended to irritate her mother unconsciously.
“Where did you get that?” She asked, sitting up and reaching out. Heather handed her one carefully, making sure she didn’t drop it.
“I just went to the grocery store.” Heather smiled. “I got your medication refill too.”
“Thank you, sweetie. Which store?”
“The one we—" always go to fell from her lips, "the K-Mart by our house. I have to go unpack the truck now. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, and turned the T.V. on as Heather left. Outside sat her practically-brand-new truck, with a backseat-full of things from her apartment. It took several trips to carry her computer and foldable desk inside the house, but eventually she settled back on the couch, figuring she’d hook up the computer later.
“Heather, did you get the truck fixed yet?” Her mother said in between spoonfuls.
“The girl I met fixed it for me, free of charge.”
Her mother smiled. “Oh, you met a girl? What was her name?”
“Nephenee,” Heather said. “Her name was Nephenee.” Heather leaned back and smiled giddily to herself. “Isn’t it just an adorable name?”
“Why, yes, I think it’s a very cute name. She must’ve been a very cute girl. What’s she like?”
“Kind and considerate, and someone I owe a lot to, I think.”
Nephenee was darned sure Heather would never show her face again in this neck of the woods. Which is why, again, she found herself pleasantly surprised when saw that familiar blue truck pull up from the road, its driver fumbling with something inside as Nephenee watched from the window.
The dusty pink curtains were draped just so that she could only see through a small crack—the rest of her body pressed up against where the cloth met the pane. She had pulled herself back just enough so that her face wouldn’t have been visible—at least not with this sun. It’d been a week and two days since Heather’d found herself stranded, fortunately or unfortunately, and stayed for dinner. It was the first time in a long time Nephenee ate cold stew.
Not that she minded, naw.
“You look real pleased,” said one of her lil brothers. He, too, was looking awfully pleased with himself, as though he’d come to some sorta epiphany. Nephenee wasn’t sure she should flush or tell ‘im to keep quiet, but she never got a chance to ‘cause the old creaky door bell rung and Nephenee jumped five feet in the air.
She heard her mother yell, “Could ya get that, Nephie?” from the kitchen, and Nephenee tried to, but her hands were too clammy, covered in a cold sweat, and it slipped over the brass doorknob like a hot knife through butter. Her brother snickered at her before running off so that she couldn’t scold him for laughing at other folks.
The doorbell rang again impatiently. When did her heart start thumpin’ so fast? She opened the door finally and nearly had the breath knocked right outta her, despite there not bein’ an inch of wind. She still had the same boots ‘n earrings ‘n jeans, but was wearing a sleeveless white blouse instead. She looked all dolled up, like for a date or something.
“I swear, I must’ve passed this house five times. I’ve been driving for hours.” Heather laughed. “Could you live anywhere more ‘middle-of-nowhere’ than this?”
Nephenee chuckled too—maybe Heather’s laugh was just that contagious. “Well, sorry ‘bout the drive. Why don’t you stay for dinner, then? T’make it up to ya.”
She shoulda known that Heather’s innocence wouldn’t last long, ‘cause her face grew darker, more teasing almost. “Only if you’ll be joining us this time.”
“Well—“ Nephenee stuttered, “I don’t s’pose I have any cars t’work on this time, do I?” She was becomin’ a real natural at this whole banter thing.
“No old, crummy trucks here, no siree.” Heather thumbed the old blue truck outside that had ran tracks through Nephenee’s front lawn. “You fixed that up pretty well. It didn’t break down even once on the way here.”
“I wouldn’t put all your eggs in one basket, Heather. That thing’s still a sputterin’ hunk of metal.”
“Well, it’s a very important ‘sputterin’ hunk of metal.’”
Nephenee flinched. “I didn’t mean—“
“I’m only teasing you, dear. It’s important to me ‘cause it reminds me of when we first met.” She winked. “I don’t think I’d be willing to part with such a memento just yet. Oh, speaking of ‘sputterin’ hunks of metal.’”
As Heather trailed off, she rummaged through the purse that hung tightly over her bare shoulder. Nephenee curiously wanted to peek over, but restrained herself. That’d be just rude.
Heather produced, in due time, a small box in her hands, with a see-through plastic window gleaning its contents.
“Heather, is this—“
“I might’ve ‘acquired’ you a little something in return for all the hard work you did for my truck. I just wanted to thank you properly and all.”
Nephenee carefully took the box from her hands, then turned it over. Inside was a model car, a red 1971 Vega, with so much detail it reminded Nephenee of a ship in a bottle.
“Acquired’s an awfully strange word t’use, but thank you, Heather. It’s great.”
“So, you like it?”
“Like it? I love it! It’s pretty nostalgic to see somethin’ like this again. After we sold my Pa’s, I—well, we sold it, so it’s been a while. I’m surprised you remembered.”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I remember everything about a girl as cute as you?”
“There ya go again—with that, that… flirtin’.”
“Why?” Heather pouted. “You don’t want me to?”
“N-no, it’s just—well, I’m just not used to it is all.”
“I find that hard to believe. Boys must’ve been all over you. You’re just too pretty to resist.”
Nephenee rubbed the back of her neck as she led them down the hall and towards the living room. “Well, naw, I wouldn’t say that, though it’s a generous assumption ‘a yers. A-anyway, how’d ya come by this here thing?”
Heather frowned. “Oh, your gift? I just—y’know. Found it in a pawn shop.”
“Hopefully it didn’t cost ya too much. I’d feel real bad if ya spent a lot on me.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t—it wasn’t too much. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it, darling.” Heather reassuringly smiled. “It’s my gift to you, so just accept it, alright?”
Nephenee raised a brow. “Well, alright.” She brought them to the living room, where she took a seat on the couch. The boys were watching T.V. from the floor, one upside down for some reason or another. The girls must’ve been upstairs, then, since the T.V. was always a figure of contest for the five of ‘em.
“So, um, where do you live, Heather? I hope y’don’t mind me asking, but I still don’t know very much about ya, and, um—well, I’d like to get t’know ya.”
Heather tried to hide a smile. “Really? You want to know about me? Well, I live in a city some hundred-or-so miles down. In a house with my mom, sort of.”
“Sorta?” She curiously tilted her head.
“Well, I technically own an apartment in another city,” Heather pointed over her shoulder, “the opposite direction, but, well, I suppose I live with my mother. A friend of mine is occupying my old place. Y’know, I was actually born in the countryside.”
“Wait, really? But y’seem like a born-and-bred city girl to me.”
“A lot of people I know say that, but it’s true. My mom grew up out here and moved to the city when I was about four, I think, so I guess I haven’t exactly lived here very long. I’m more of an honorary country girl than an actual one.” Her inflection betrayed a certain longingness. “I kinda miss the air out here. I think it’d do well for my mom too.”
The question hung in the air. Nephenee wasn’t sure if she should press or not, but the curiosity was itchin’ at her like a bug bite. Heather seemed like she was debating too, though, so she quietly waited for her to speak.
“She’s been sick for a while, and it’s been kind of hard. I guess that’s why it was a nice change of pace to hang out with your family.” She laughed, though nothing was funny.
“I’m real sorry t’hear that, Heather.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I didn’t want to bring it up because I knew you’d worry; you’re just too sweet like that. Really, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Well, if y’ever do need anything, don’t be afraid t’call, y’hear? The kids really liked yer company.”
“Well, I really enjoy your company.” Heather leaned sideways on the couch so that she could face Nephenee, one arm tucked into her side and the other supporting herself on the headboard.
Nephenee flushed, and when her brothers caught sight of that, they dove in for the kill like hyenas snickering.
“Oooh, I think Nephie’s got a cru—“
Well, let’s just say Nephenee’s death glare could use a little practice. Maybe her Ma could give her tips, considering how hard she stared at Heather when the poor girl walked unsuspectingly into the kitchen for dinner.
The house had begun to smell like Heather—like her perfume—even long after she’d left. Nephenee thought it smelled like a mix of roses and oranges, or something. It was hard to pin down, but it made her head feel dizzy—maybe ‘cause she wasn’t used to perfume. Yeah, that musta been it. The girl was as much a whirlwind as Nephenee thought her to be, but that ain’t a bad thing necessarily. Maybe it was a nice change of pace from the slow, steady workload she endured every day from dawn ‘til dusk. Maybe it was nice to have a little taste of the city-life from someone who knew both worlds.
And just like the room, her mind was invaded with thoughts of Heather. She figured that girl could talk for hours, but she didn’t expect to listen so intently, so diligently, as though she were taking notes in school. She didn’t think she would still remember even an hour later that Heather’s favorite color was purple, or that she was really bad at math, or that she used to own a cat named Mister Whiskerton of all things, and she sure as hell didn’t expect to find herself wonderin’ when Heather was next going to visit.
Well, Nephenee couldn’t pin down her thoughts exactly. Not until her brother found a note with a 10-digit number scribbled on it and a pink lipstick mark in the corner, and she blushed harder than a maiden.
Call me. She could just about hear the wink in the writing. But no amount of blushing would stop Nephenee from doin’ what she had to do.
She asked her Ma if she had anything nice she could wear. And while she changed, Nephenee's mom muttered under her breath, "Knew it. Damn cityfolk."