cream. Without hesitation, I reach up into the pantry and pull out the cinnamon jar. I drop one into the mug as I watch the vapor rise, carrying the strong aroma into my nostrils.
This is what she does… she adds flavor to everything, surging a shock of vivacity through me like an overdue lifeline.
Smiling, I pick up the cup and walk out onto the front porch.
I don’t know how much time passes as I sit there, but when Frankie approaches with his stead, I grin with a low chuckle.
“Delivery for Jakey?” he teases, leaping down and walking toward me.
“How is it that you’re getting’ darker?” I stand up, pulling him in for a brotherly hug.
“The heart’s beatin’ so long as the sun’s burnin’ in the sky.”
“Listen to yourself.” I playfully slap his shoulder. “That’s shitty poetry, brother.”
“I’ll leave the good poetry to you.” He winks, pushing the door open.
“Ah?” I step inside.
“Town talks, bro. Town talks.” He takes off his hat and tosses it on the side table, ignoring the hooks like he always does.
“What’s the jabber sayin’ now?” My heart sinks.
“Don’t worry.” He shrugs before exhaling deeply and letting his body flop down on the sofa. “Your name hasn’t come up.”
“Spill.” Impatience drips from my voice as I pull out two bottles of beer.
“One o’ my customers collects in-kind donations for the soup kitchen,” he explains, accepting a bottle from my hand. “Milk, eggs, and whatnot.” He takes a sip. “My ear caught ‘im tellin’ one o’ his helpers that they need a replacement for a Belle Frances?” He narrows his eyes.
“Replacement?” I sit down and tilt my head.
“Apparently,” he slows down, “she was outta town for a few days, somethin’ ‘bout a cowboy and a cabin in the woods?” He finally smiles with a meaningful look.
I bite my lower lip before looking away and downing a big gulp of beer.
“Is that where you been?” He lowers his voice, his tone serious.
“Yeah.” I smack my lips, gazing downward, fixing my eyes on a design detail in the carpet.
“What’s up?”
“How do people know so fast?”
“You have someone clean up the cabin. She tells a friend. Those two bump into each other at the market, and the rest is history; y’know the drill.” He dismisses it all with a wave of his hand before returning his eyes to mine. “How was it?”
“Good, it was good.” I mindlessly nod. “Very good, actually.”
“Yeah? Am I gonna meet ‘er soon?” He sits back, crossing his legs.
“Possibly.”
“No.” He chuckles in disbelief.
“I’m tellin’ yah.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” I let out a hot sigh.
“Tell me more.”
“I’ve never met anyone like ‘er. It’s like…” I gesture with both hands as I try to find the words, “like she can’t think of a reason to lie.”
“Nobody’s that pure,” he warns.
“Look, I know. Or I think I know?” I pause for a second. “But you know when you feel it in your gut?”
“Nope.” He shakes his head, tittering.
“I dunno, Frankie. She makes me feel like a million bucks.”
Seemingly stunned, he stares at me for a few seconds. Quiet and pensive.
“A month ago, she didn’t even exist, Jake.” His tone embodies the voice of reason.
“Yes.” I nod. “I’m with yah.”
“And you’re a hotshot motherfucker with a ton o’money. In this town?”
“Right.” I repeatedly blink, trying to let his words sink in.
“What do you even know ‘bout ‘er?”
“I know that when I’m with her… I see a new lease on life.”
“Fuck me!” He throws his head back in a combination of laughter and surprise. “So, you’re toast.” With his head resting on the back of the couch, he stares at the ceiling.
“Maybe.” I take another sip. “Or maybe you should really meet ‘er and find out for yourself.”
“Tomorrow.” He suddenly moves his head back for his eyes to pierce into me. “Before her grip tightens ‘round you for good.”
Smirking, I take another sip.
“Tomorrow it is.”
A few hours later, Frankie leaves and I immediately go to the phone and dial Belle’s number. She answers after a couple of rings.
“How’s your first day back?” I can’t wait to hear that she missed me.
“Not the same,” she whispers then titters.
“Wanna get together tomorrow?”
“Where?”
“Do you know Linda’s?”
“Of course. It’s on Beetle and Cherry.”
“That’s the one. Eight o’clock?”
“Sounds good.”
“Frankie will be there.”
“Your hot brother?” she teases.
“Belle,” I warn.
She laughs. “Bring your dancin’ boots, cowboy.”
I can almost hear her smile through the ether.
When I finally go to bed, my mind is a tangled web of thoughts, and my heart is drenched in conflicting emotions. What if she doesn’t like Frankie? What