Tucker Johansson and Dayton Rutgers decided to take the competition between their families to a new level by having a hot dog eating contest. While I watched them devour food, Harlow hurried inside and talked with her sister. I hoped they were only gossiping, yet worried Winnie was telling her to run, not walk, away from me.
By the time Tucker puked and Dayton was declared the winner, only to puke a minute later, I’d grown restless. Harlow was my dreamcatcher and I feared losing her. Where the hell would I go if she denied me? I couldn’t go home. I didn’t know how to start over anywhere. Maybe with Harlow, I’d find a way. Without her, I remained the man Mexico created.
“I don’t want boys,” Harlow said, standing next to me. “They’re gross.”
Studying her beautiful face, I knew she’d been crying. Yet she still looked at me and smiled.
“My mama raised me not to overeat,” I said, wrapping an arm around her. “Rivers of puke is what happens when you don’t train boys.”
Saying nothing, Harlow leaned her head against my chest. Her silence made me edgy, but I wasn’t someone who got chatty about his feelings either.
“I heard about an Italian place just outside of town. It’s supposed to be above average,” I said when she remained silent.
Harlow stepped away from me, sending an angry chill through me. I followed her gaze and caught Lenny checking us out.
“Fuck him,” I whispered.
“It’s not smart for anyone to think you and I are doing anything more than messing around.”
“True,” I said, wrapping my arm around her again. “But fuck it.”
Harlow grinned. “Does your mom make spaghetti?”
“Yeah, but she likes rice dishes better than pasta.”
“My mom loves Italian food,” she said then added, “My Ellsberg mom.”
“What about your Arizona mom?”
“She made us a lot of Hamburger Helper. Does that count?”
“Of course. In fact, I can down an entire box of the cheeseburger macaroni stuff, but I'm careful to eat it in an orderly fashion to ensure I don’t vomit.”
Harlow’s expression held such warmth. My worries soon disappeared over her escape with Winnie.
“I want to know more about you," she said softly. " I want to know everything I can about you. Well everything you feel safe telling me.”
“It’s not you that makes me unsafe. It’s all the ears in this town. All the eyes too. Too many damn people want to know everyone’s business. It’s why I hate small towns.”
Harlow looked at me as if I had kicked her kitten. I didn't know how to make her understand my negative feelings for Ellsberg weren’t personal. Figuring I ought to let the subject drop, I took her hand.
“Let’s bail.”
Harlow waved at Winnie. There was a growing party vibe around the house, so I was glad to flee to my SUV. I dumped my supplies into the backseat then opened the door for her.
“Nice manners,” she said, sounding happier than her expression betrayed.
“Mama taught me right.”
Looking tired, Harlow only nodded. I walked around the SUV, slid into the driver’s seat, and leaned over to kiss her.
Harlow returned my affection, but felt distant now. She was sitting next to me while seeming a million miles away.
We returned to the apartment and took turns in the shower. I wanted to say something to make things right between us. I just didn't know what she needed to hear.
The night before, Harlow stood up to me the way I needed. I tried to run away and she forced me to acknowledge how I felt. Though she kept slapping me in the face with how perfect we were for each other, maybe I wasn’t perfect for her. Was this what her sister told her?
When we arrived at the Italian restaurant, Harlow smiled, though not at me. She spotted Vaughn and Judd with their wives in the parking lot. She jumped from the car as soon as I parked and hurried over to them.
I wondered if I could live in a town like this one. To keep Harlow, I clearly needed to stay in Ellsberg. She needed the familiarity of her family and friends to survive. I needed her to be happy. Apparently, I was a small town guy now.
“We’re shopping for fancy meats,” Tawny announced as I arrived.
“Why fancy?”
“Why the hell not?” Vaughn said, nodding at me in the tough guy way that probably scared other men. “Are you here for meat?”
“Italian,” I said, gesturing at the restaurant two doors down from the deli.
Harlow glanced at me then her friends. I nearly expected her to devise a lame excuse to ditch me. Instead, she wrapped her arm through mine and smiled at Tawny and Raven.
“Have fun with your meat.”
The girls laughed while the men smirked. Accepting the locals enjoyed frat humor, I reminded myself to throw out plenty of fart jokes the next time I chat them up again.
Harlow kept hold of me until we sat down. I enjoyed the feel of her skin against mine. Her touch felt warm and inviting. Desire for Harlow never made me think of Mexico.