Trailer Park Heart
Page 18
Feeling released from Rosie’s lecturing, I turned toward the front windows and reached for my apron that I’d set on a nearby table when I walked in the door. The usually busy, er, busy-ish, street in front of Rosie’s was empty of cars. The band was setting up across the street under a twinkly-light adorned gazebo and tables had been scattered all over the street that wound in a square around the courthouse, covered in white tablecloths with fresh floral arrangements in the center.
I restrained my disdain whenever I had to visit downtown Clark City. The older style brick buildings were grayed from time and full of people I didn’t like. But tonight, the Christmas lights strung year-round along the top of the buildings were turned on and the courthouse grounds looked especially charming.
The weather had cooled down tonight too. There was a crisp breeze that was perfectly tolerable after I threw on a cozy cardigan over my red and white striped waitress dress.
A wistful sigh escaped my chest and for a second, I wished I could be here with Max instead of working the event.
Crazy talk. I tried to keep him away from these kinds of things, but it was getting harder now that the little blabbermouths he went to school with were always asking him if he was going to town events.
Tonight, my mom had taken him to the drive-in double feature a couple towns away. He knew what he was missing, but my mom had lured him away with promises of unlimited popcorn and Sour Patch Kids.
But now that I was here, admiring the quaint charm of this early fall evening, I contemplated bringing him back before the outdoor-dining season was over. This was too cute not to share with him.
“We open in five minutes,” Rosie called from behind me. “Stations everybody.”
My nerves trickled down my spine and I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around my waist and shrink away from the evening.
As a kid, I was this tragic novelty that got attention just by being me. The pathetically poor daughter of the strip club madam, I was a pariah before I had even gone to kindergarten. Growing up in a town that managed to be as prejudiced as it was self-righteous, I had learned to prove myself early on.
I’d strived to be the best student, the smartest, the quickest, the kid with the most potential. I hadn’t played sports, but I’d excelled in every other extracurricular I could—drama, debate team, choir. I’d done whatever I could to land a small scholarship to a good college, one that was far, far away from Clark City. The plan was Colorado and a lifetime of student loans, but I had made peace with the loans just as long as they got me out of Nebraska.
My naturally competitive nature—and need to be constantly right and better than every other rich kid that looked down on me—had ensured nobody was interested in dating me. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I had a rule until the day I graduated—no boys, no attachments, no mistakes.
I was desperate to leave this place and unwilling to be held back or distracted by a boy. It was why I’d been so attracted to Logan Cole. He wasn’t an attachment. He was a crush I was only barely distracted by. It sounded so ridiculous now, but he was the safe option when it came to pushing my emotions somewhere. He wasn’t even in town. It was way too easy for my fledgling heart to fall for him.
I could love him without sacrificing anything for him—without giving anything up for him. I could have feelings for him without breaking my rule.
Until the one time I did break that rule. And everything I had been working so hard for became debris in that one night of catastrophic explosions.
Now I was piecing myself back together and trying to move on with this new version of my future. I would never, ever regret having Max. I knew he gave more meaning to my life than a hundred college degrees ever could. But he’d also unwittingly tied me to this town.
After I found out I was pregnant, I had still considered college for a while. But my scholarship was academic based and so I knew I would have to keep my grades up to keep it. That felt impossible at the time—having a baby and straight A’s?
I’d imagined for a little while that I would have help from Logan, but after he died, there was nobody. And being valedictorian from a class of twenty-three students didn’t mean anything. My scholarship had barely been enough to cover books. And living with the weight of student loans for the rest of my life was so much less appealing now that I had a child to take care of on my own.
I’d walked away from my college dream, knowing that I was putting my son ahead of my dreams and finding peace with that decision. At least for the most part.
And so, I was stuck with the same people that had done whatever they could to make my life miserable for twenty-five years.
I had hoped that after Max, I could fade into the fringe of Clark City and be forgotten about. But having Max was like playing right into their hands. The thing about living up to everyone’s low expectations of you was that it made you a bigger target for their gossip.
Not everyone still regarded me as trailer trash. Some had moved away. Some had died. Very few had matured. But there were still enough that a crowd like there would be tonight still gave me anxiety.
People started filing in just like Rosie said they would. They all parked at the high school and elementary school that were within walking distance since the usual parking spots had been temporarily repurposed and started filling in the tables in front of the restaurants serving tonight.
Each restaurant had a special Supper in the Square menu, featuring items not usually available or moderated versions of what was. Tonight, Rosie had her famous spicy fried chicken that was only available here, tonight. Our usual fried chicken was good, but pretty standard. The spicy fried chicken was basically the best on the entire planet.
Which meant I would be busy tonight.
Two hours later, people were still coming. There were small fair-type games dotting the courthouse park and a few bounce houses for the kiddos. The bluegrass band was in full swing, the banjo especially weaving a special kind of magic into the air.
My feet were tired, but I couldn’t help but catch the whimsical mood of the night. And I hadn’t had to wait on anybody I didn’t like. So… win-win!
“Hey, chica!” Coco’s voice called from behind me.
I turned around and grinned at my friend. Noticing the woman at her side, I lunged forward and squealed, “Emilia!”
She met me halfway, throwing her arms around me. “Ruby! Oh my gosh!”
I pulled back to take her in again. She was dressed in her signature boho chic style, a white peasant dress that ended mid-thigh and showed off her coffee-with-cream-colored legs, a wide-brim tan hat that was oh-so-hipster and suede cowboy boots that were more small-town than stylish, but somehow worked for her. “Co, why is your sister so fabulous?”
Coco rolled her eyes. “This is the same girl that sent us pics last week of Sasquatch’s twin.”
That was true. Only last week, Emilia’s wilderness selfies were more wild woman of the forest than trendsetter. But now that she was showered and properly shaved she was like the spokeswoman for all things hot and hippie.
Not that Coco was less glamorous. She’d also dressed up for the occasion in form-fitting denim overall shorts—the trendy kind, not the Dickies the farmers showed up in every weekday morning— and a pale pink sleeveless silk button-up. She also wore cowboy boots, but they were the black leather variety and well-worn. They both had long, lush black hair and big brown eyes. They were unfairly gorgeous, and hip and I felt like the biggest dope in my work uniform, frilly white apron and sensible Chucks.
I restrained my disdain whenever I had to visit downtown Clark City. The older style brick buildings were grayed from time and full of people I didn’t like. But tonight, the Christmas lights strung year-round along the top of the buildings were turned on and the courthouse grounds looked especially charming.
The weather had cooled down tonight too. There was a crisp breeze that was perfectly tolerable after I threw on a cozy cardigan over my red and white striped waitress dress.
A wistful sigh escaped my chest and for a second, I wished I could be here with Max instead of working the event.
Crazy talk. I tried to keep him away from these kinds of things, but it was getting harder now that the little blabbermouths he went to school with were always asking him if he was going to town events.
Tonight, my mom had taken him to the drive-in double feature a couple towns away. He knew what he was missing, but my mom had lured him away with promises of unlimited popcorn and Sour Patch Kids.
But now that I was here, admiring the quaint charm of this early fall evening, I contemplated bringing him back before the outdoor-dining season was over. This was too cute not to share with him.
“We open in five minutes,” Rosie called from behind me. “Stations everybody.”
My nerves trickled down my spine and I resisted the urge to wrap my arms around my waist and shrink away from the evening.
As a kid, I was this tragic novelty that got attention just by being me. The pathetically poor daughter of the strip club madam, I was a pariah before I had even gone to kindergarten. Growing up in a town that managed to be as prejudiced as it was self-righteous, I had learned to prove myself early on.
I’d strived to be the best student, the smartest, the quickest, the kid with the most potential. I hadn’t played sports, but I’d excelled in every other extracurricular I could—drama, debate team, choir. I’d done whatever I could to land a small scholarship to a good college, one that was far, far away from Clark City. The plan was Colorado and a lifetime of student loans, but I had made peace with the loans just as long as they got me out of Nebraska.
My naturally competitive nature—and need to be constantly right and better than every other rich kid that looked down on me—had ensured nobody was interested in dating me. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I had a rule until the day I graduated—no boys, no attachments, no mistakes.
I was desperate to leave this place and unwilling to be held back or distracted by a boy. It was why I’d been so attracted to Logan Cole. He wasn’t an attachment. He was a crush I was only barely distracted by. It sounded so ridiculous now, but he was the safe option when it came to pushing my emotions somewhere. He wasn’t even in town. It was way too easy for my fledgling heart to fall for him.
I could love him without sacrificing anything for him—without giving anything up for him. I could have feelings for him without breaking my rule.
Until the one time I did break that rule. And everything I had been working so hard for became debris in that one night of catastrophic explosions.
Now I was piecing myself back together and trying to move on with this new version of my future. I would never, ever regret having Max. I knew he gave more meaning to my life than a hundred college degrees ever could. But he’d also unwittingly tied me to this town.
After I found out I was pregnant, I had still considered college for a while. But my scholarship was academic based and so I knew I would have to keep my grades up to keep it. That felt impossible at the time—having a baby and straight A’s?
I’d imagined for a little while that I would have help from Logan, but after he died, there was nobody. And being valedictorian from a class of twenty-three students didn’t mean anything. My scholarship had barely been enough to cover books. And living with the weight of student loans for the rest of my life was so much less appealing now that I had a child to take care of on my own.
I’d walked away from my college dream, knowing that I was putting my son ahead of my dreams and finding peace with that decision. At least for the most part.
And so, I was stuck with the same people that had done whatever they could to make my life miserable for twenty-five years.
I had hoped that after Max, I could fade into the fringe of Clark City and be forgotten about. But having Max was like playing right into their hands. The thing about living up to everyone’s low expectations of you was that it made you a bigger target for their gossip.
Not everyone still regarded me as trailer trash. Some had moved away. Some had died. Very few had matured. But there were still enough that a crowd like there would be tonight still gave me anxiety.
People started filing in just like Rosie said they would. They all parked at the high school and elementary school that were within walking distance since the usual parking spots had been temporarily repurposed and started filling in the tables in front of the restaurants serving tonight.
Each restaurant had a special Supper in the Square menu, featuring items not usually available or moderated versions of what was. Tonight, Rosie had her famous spicy fried chicken that was only available here, tonight. Our usual fried chicken was good, but pretty standard. The spicy fried chicken was basically the best on the entire planet.
Which meant I would be busy tonight.
Two hours later, people were still coming. There were small fair-type games dotting the courthouse park and a few bounce houses for the kiddos. The bluegrass band was in full swing, the banjo especially weaving a special kind of magic into the air.
My feet were tired, but I couldn’t help but catch the whimsical mood of the night. And I hadn’t had to wait on anybody I didn’t like. So… win-win!
“Hey, chica!” Coco’s voice called from behind me.
I turned around and grinned at my friend. Noticing the woman at her side, I lunged forward and squealed, “Emilia!”
She met me halfway, throwing her arms around me. “Ruby! Oh my gosh!”
I pulled back to take her in again. She was dressed in her signature boho chic style, a white peasant dress that ended mid-thigh and showed off her coffee-with-cream-colored legs, a wide-brim tan hat that was oh-so-hipster and suede cowboy boots that were more small-town than stylish, but somehow worked for her. “Co, why is your sister so fabulous?”
Coco rolled her eyes. “This is the same girl that sent us pics last week of Sasquatch’s twin.”
That was true. Only last week, Emilia’s wilderness selfies were more wild woman of the forest than trendsetter. But now that she was showered and properly shaved she was like the spokeswoman for all things hot and hippie.
Not that Coco was less glamorous. She’d also dressed up for the occasion in form-fitting denim overall shorts—the trendy kind, not the Dickies the farmers showed up in every weekday morning— and a pale pink sleeveless silk button-up. She also wore cowboy boots, but they were the black leather variety and well-worn. They both had long, lush black hair and big brown eyes. They were unfairly gorgeous, and hip and I felt like the biggest dope in my work uniform, frilly white apron and sensible Chucks.
