Not a Chance (Sweet Nothings)

chapter THIRTY



Emma sat across from Arden at a booth in Sweet Nothing's. Arden was grading papers with half of her attention. The other half was trying to talk Emma into moving out of her parents' house and into an apartment with her.

"But I don't get why you would leave your parent's house when your bedroom by itself is better than any apartment in this town," Emma said.

Arden shrugged and pushed her glasses up on her nose. She made some red marks on a paper. "We're big girls. We need to be on our own for a while. Even if it is just a few blocks from our parents."

"Why? Why do we need to be on our own?"

"Because we shouldn't go straight from our parent's home to a husband's. We should be on our own a while and finish growing up. Plus, Travis won't spend the night if I'm living with my parents."

Emma sipped her coffee. "I think I'm plenty grown up, thank you. And I hate to be the one to remind you, but you haven't been dating Travis for three weeks now."

Arden slapped her pencil down on the table and looked at Emma. "I know that. But all of that will change once I've proven to him that I'm committed. Besides, getting our own place is still the right thing to do. What do you think about those apartments over on Riverview Drive."

"I think they're overpriced and the basements flood. You're forgetting, too, that I don't have an income."

"So get a job."

"I don't have time to get a job. I run the ladies quilting circle, the Daughter's of Virtue, the Youth Service Club, and I organize pretty much every potluck and group activity in that church. I volunteer at the nursing home three days a week and at the hospital the other two days. Not to mention the shut-ins who need meals and company and..."

Arden held up her hands. "Okay. Okay. So don't get a job. You can still live with me. You can be, like, my stay-at-home wife and keep house and cook. It'll be great."

Emma laughed at the image. "That's great. But the fact is, I'm perfectly comfortable living with my parents."

"That's right," Arden interrupted. "You're comfortable. Too comfortable. You need to experience what it's like to be completely responsible for yourself with no one else looking out for you. Get a boyfriend. Go on dates that don't involve your parents. Walk around the house in your pajamas and bare feet instead of constantly dolled up looking like Donna Reed."

"Hey! I like how I dress."

"I do too," Arden said. "But why not relax once in a while? You don't have to always be perfect. Sometimes we can just go over to Bixy and go dancing. Or hang out with friends up at Rowdy's. You and me. No parents. What do you say?"

Emma sat back and watched her friend. Arden wasn't acting hysterical anymore. That first week after Travis broke up with her she had called him every evening and stopped by his house several times to check on him and the baby. Travis had gone to Emma and asked her to help get Arden past this. So Emma had tried spending more time with her. She would cry over every little thing and though she didn't talk about Travis constantly, it was clear he was on her mind.

But she'd since mellowed. Now she had on her stubborn face. She'd determined a path for her life and she was going to plow through no matter what. She behaved as though she was certain Travis would take her back eventually. Now this apartment thing.

Of course, it wasn't a bad idea. The more Emma listened, the more she found the prospect exciting. It would be a level of freedom she'd never before experienced. Freedom. She hadn't known she was craving it. But freedom to do what? It wasn't like she had a curfew or anything.

"I don't know," she said. "I'm not sure it's worth the trouble."

"Oh, come on!" Arden said. "I know you have a great relationship with your parents. But they're still parents. They may keep quiet, but they're looking on you with eyes of judgment. Just think about it. Your own place. You can put whatever you want in the fridge. You can eat a whole package of Oreos at midnight without having to sneak around quietly. You can clean house or not clean house. Lay around in your pajamas at noon. All with no one judging you. It's going to be awesome."

Emma leaned forward and swirled some cream into her coffee. "I guess it could be kind of fun," she said.

"Yeah?" Arden said, surprised.

Emma shrugged. "I guess. We could try it."

"That's right. Nothing's forever. If we don't like it we move back home."

Emma looked up and smiled. "Okay. Let's do it."

"Really?"

Emma nodded.

"Great!" Arden started cramming papers into folders and shoving everything into her laptop bag.

"Where are you going?" Emma asked.

"It's only four. I think I can get us the apartment today. I'll call you." Arden hopped up and left.

Emma stared after her.





Travis lay on his bed tossing a football up in the air and catching it. Emily was asleep in the bassinet by his bed. He was listening to The Dance by Garth Brooks on repeat. He wasn't depressed. But it was a down day. He seemed to have as many down days as up days. On down days he stared at the baby as much as possible and reminded himself how much she needed him. It made him feel good to have that responsibility.

He heard the front door open and close. Dustin came in and leaned in his doorway. "Travis, I have a question," he said.

"What?" Travis asked, monotone, tossing the football up again.

"Are you a sixteen year old girl?"

"Nope," Travis said, catching the ball.

"Then why don't you start acting like a man." He stomped over to the cd player and banged it with his fist. The track skipped to Friends in Low Places.

Travis jumped up and changed it back. "You're gonna wake her up, dammit," he said. He glanced at Emily. She stirred slightly and made a face like she might cry. But then the song started up again and the expression faded. "She likes this song," Travis whispered.

"Yeah. Whatever. If you're gonna go, then go."

Travis had been waiting for Dustin to get home so he could go visit Duane. He had been putting it off and now it was time to talk to him before they transferred him to Jefferson City.

Travis grabbed the keys to the pickup truck he'd been driving for a couple of weeks now. Dustin took his place on his bed and began tossing the football up and down. Travis smiled. "So that's what I look like."

"Yep. Ain't pretty, is it?"

Travis shook his head. "I guess we'd better either get our girls back or move on."

Dustin didn't answer.

"I'll be back in a while."

Travis drove through town to the courthouse. He hopped out of the truck and walked inside, not pausing to think. He had no idea what he was going to say, if anything. He just knew he needed to see his brother before he lost his nerve.

Travis knocked on the Sheriff's office door and went in without waiting for an answer.

"Hey, Wade," he said.

Wade looked up from his desk in surprise. "Travis. You come to see Duane?"

Travis nodded. Wade stood and ushered him to a small room with a table and chairs. Travis sat and waited for Duane to be brought in. Wade led him in a few moments later. He was in cuffs, which Travis thought was unnecessary. But he didn't say anything. Duane's hair looked longer than he remembered. It was filthy, too. The kid was painfully thin. But most surprising of all, he no longer wore that stone-cold killer expression Travis had become so familiar with. He looked...miserable.

He sat across from Travis and stared down at his hands on the table.

Travis leaned back and watched him for a few moments. He still didn't know what to say. "I tried to get them to drop the charges," he said.

Duane looked up at him. "What?" he asked.

"Six years," Travis said. "It'll change you. If you need anything while you're in there, just let me know. I mean, money...whatever. And if you want me to visit once a month or whatever, just say so."

"You've got to be the stupidest person on the face of the earth," Duane said.

Travis narrowed his eyes at him. He was getting tired of being told he was stupid just because he exhibited a decent amount of compassion. "Fine. You don't want my help, I won't give it. I don't even know why I came." He started to stand. "I guess I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for failing you like I did. I must have f*cked up pretty bad to make my own brother want to kill me. So I'm sorry." He finished standing and started to leave.

"Wait," Duane said.

Travis turned and looked at him.

Duane glanced up at him through his stringy hair and then back down at the table. "They're gonna put me in the same place with the old man."

Travis folded his arms over his chest. Travis figured that would be a good thing. If he were going to prison, he'd want to be with the old man. The guy was a bastard, for sure, but he would look out for his family. He'd protect Duane. "Yeah?" Travis said. "It's good you'll have someone to watch your back."

Duane glanced at him again. "I'm afraid I'll kill him, Travis."

Travis went and sat back down across from Duane.

"I hate him, Travis," Duane said. Tears filled his eyes, his face twisted with a flood of emotions. "It ain't ever been you I hated. It's him. If he was right here I'd wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze and watch the life fade out of his eyes. I swear to God, Travis, I hate him so much!" Duane's hands were squeezed into fists.

Travis sat, tense, a faint feeling of fear in his stomach. He was thankful Duane was cuffed. "We all hate him, Duane," Travis said softly. "You kill him and guess what? You'll still hate him. Did I ever tell you about the big fight I had with him? The last fight?"

Duane shook his head.

"I was, I don't know, twenty or twenty one. A little younger than you. Just married Tonya. I can't even remember what it was I did to piss him off that day. Maybe I took the last beer out of his fridge...who the f*ck knows. Anyway, I was at his house and he starts yelling at me telling me what a worthless, no-good bum I was. Tonya had had her first miscarriage and he was screaming about how it was my fault and I was being punished somehow. Then he got to going on and on about how it was my fault Mom had killed herself. So then I snapped and took a swing at him. And the old bastard landed flat on his back. I was so surprised...it had never occurred to me that I'd finally reached the point where I was stronger than him. I waited until he got to his feet and swung again. He got a couple of good licks in, but I finally beat him down. He was on his back and I just started wailing on him, landing punch after punch into his face. His arms were limp, he wasn't even fighting anymore. There was blood everywhere. It felt so f*cking good punching the life out of him. At one point I realized that that's exactly what I was doing. I was killing him. And I didn't care. He deserved to die...he was a f*cking monster."

Duane nodded. He was staring down at the table but he seemed to be listening.

"But I stopped. I stopped because even then, as f*cked up as I was, I knew that there was a stronger force in my life...a greater desire. I wanted a good life...better than what he gave us. I wanted a wife and family. I wanted to be a good person. To be happy. You know happy, don't you? That one Christmas we took you to Grandma and Grandpa's for the weekend. That was happy, wasn't it?"

Duane nodded, a faint smile brightening his face. "That was the best weekend of my life."

"Yeah. Well. I wanted that kind of happy...all the time. And I knew if I went to prison for murdering the old man, I'd never have it. So I stopped hitting him and I walked away. I could have killed him. I really could have. But it wouldn't have made my life better."

"My life ain't ever gonna be better," Duane said. "So what's the point."

"You've got six years of prison sentence. If you behave, maybe you'll be out in four. Worst case scenario, you're twenty-eight when you get out. That's a year younger than I was when I quit drinking. And I know you aren't particularly impressed with my life. But I'm happy most of the time. I got a good, solid business and a house and a little girl to take care of. You can have whatever you want when you get out. You can come back here and we'll help you get back on your feet. Or you can go somewhere else, if you need to. Whatever. But you deserve to be happy, Duane."

Duane looked up then. His expression grew pained again and tears filled his eyes. "How can you say that?" he shouted. "After what I did to you, how can you sit there and say I deserve to be happy?"

Travis sighed and slumped back in his chair. "Maybe it's just my way of showing you how to go about being happy. You can't get hung up on every little thing that people do to hurt you. You gotta let that shit go. Like I said, you can kill the old man, but the hate will still be there. The only way to get past it is to let it go."

Duane was shaking his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. "I ain't good like you."

"Good's a choice, little brother. And I hope you make the right choices while you're inside. Because I love you and I want you to be happy someday."

Duane sniffed and wiped his sleeve across his face. He took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "I'll try," he said.

Travis reached across the table and patted his hand. "If you need anything, just call. I'll come visit in a couple of weeks."

Duane nodded again. Travis got up to leave.

"I love you, too," Duane said.

Travis turned and smiled at him. Then he left the courthouse feeling a little bit better about his life.



The next week, it was time to move into the new apartment. Emma called Travis and asked if she could use his pickup to move some of her stuff. She didn't expect him to stay and help her load it up. But he did and she found she was grateful for the company. While Travis was going up and down stairs carrying box after box out of the house, Emma was sitting next to her crying mother on the couch, consoling her and assuring her that she wasn't a bad mother.

"Arden and I just want to try out living on our own a while," Emma said. And then her mother wailed some more. "I'm really only doing this for her," Emma said. "She needs it and she won't do it by herself. Maybe once she gets settled, I'll move back home."

This seemed to make her mother feel slightly better. When she was finally able to break free, she found Travis outside dusting his hands off on his jeans. "Alrighty," he said. "Where to?"

Emma smiled. He'd packed everything up. She told him the address and then he drove them there. Arden was at school. Travis started bringing boxes into the duplex apartment and upstairs to Emma's room. Emma went straight to the kitchen and brewed a pitcher of iced tea. It was February and cold outside, but Travis would be hot after all of that work.

He came downstairs after taking up the last box. He shed his coat and stocking cap and thanked Emma when she handed him a glass of tea.

"Saw Arden's room," he said, catching his breath. "It's a lot different than how she had her room decorated at her parents' house."

"Well that's because her bedroom at home was decorated when she was thirteen."

"Full of youth and life."

Emma laughed.

"Now she's old and boring. Not a frill in the room."

Emma had commented to Arden just that morning that her room seemed awfully neutral. The comforter was beige and the curtains matched. There were no trinkets out on the surfaces of the nightstand or dresser. No wall-hangings. They'd painted the walls before moving in and Arden's was a soft white. Not completely institutional...just drab. "I think," Emma said, "She's trying to make it more comfortable for you, should you happen to come visit. She knows you don't like being surrounded by girly stuff."

Travis drank down the last half of his tea and held out his glass for more. "She's pretty sure that'll happen, isn't she?"

"She really is."

Travis sighed and sat on the arm of the sofa that divided the living room and dining area. "Kristen got engaged, did you hear?"

Emma nodded.

"So I guess that option is out."

Emma stared at him for a moment. "You know one option you've failed to ever consider?"

"What's that?" He looked up at her in curiosity.

"Me."

"You?" And then he laughed. "You mean, you and me?"

Emma nodded. "Why not? Why have you never asked me out? When you've asked everyone else out."

"Are you serious?" Travis was starting to look nervous and Emma struggled to keep a straight face.

"Yeah. I want to know why you're not interested in me. I'm available. Reasonably attractive. Looking for a long-term relationship."

Travis fidgeted and then stood. "God, Emma. To be honest, the thought never crossed my mind. You're Emma...sweet, little Emma. And yeah, you're way more than reasonably attractive...you're an all-out hottie. But I couldn't ask you out. I just couldn't." Then he noticed her shoulders shaking and the smile she tried to hide with a fist over her mouth. He laughed in relief. "You're f*cking with me, aren't you?"

She nodded. "You looked so scared," she squeaked through her laughter.

Travis shook his head. "I take back the 'sweet, little Emma' part. But seriously, you know you're like a little sister to me."

She sobered quickly and looked up at him. She nodded and he smiled. He stepped toward her and kissed her on the forehead. He stepped back and they stared at each other for a few moments.

"Why did Dustin break up with me?" Emma asked. It was abrupt, but she'd been wanting to ask someone. And the only person better than Dustin to ask was Travis.

Travis smiled kindly at her. "You sure you want to hear this?"

She nodded. "I know it was weeks ago, but it's been driving me crazy. I've tried to talk to him, but he's so uncomfortable around me now. What did I do?"

Travis set his tea on the table, took her hand and led her to the sofa. "Two things," he said. "The first thing is your fault."

Emma rolled her eyes. "I was not pressuring him toward marriage," she growled.

"Yes, you were. It's all you ever talked about. You even stop in front of the bridal store and gawk at the dresses every time you pass. You made him double date with your parents. You were ready to skip the fun, exciting dating stage and go straight to old married couple."

Emma folded her arms over her chest. "I don't feel that I did those things."

"You don't?"

She stared at him for a moment and then let her arms drop. She looked away. "It's just, I know already that he's the man I want to marry. I don't see the point in dragging the whole thing out."

"Emma, I know exactly how you feel. But when the other person isn't at that stage, you have to let him set the pace for the relationship. If you do that, you'll ease a lot of the tension."

She nodded slowly, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. "Okay. So what's the second thing."

"This isn't your fault," Travis said. He tilted her chin toward him with the tip of his finger. "You're a little too perfect."

She laughed. "What? Did he say that?"

"No. But I know it's a problem for him. He doesn't like women waiting on him. He doesn't like women being in positions of servitude. Our mom walked around with her shoulders hunched and her eyes averted and obeyed the every command of our old man. Dustin hated that more than anything else the old man did. He even hates going to restaurants and having waitresses bring him food. He half stands out of respect every time one comes by. And he tips ridiculous amounts just to ease his conscience."

Emma gawked. "My homemaking capabilities are one of my strongest attributes. And it's a turnoff for Dustin."

Travis nodded. "Sorry, babe. He's weird."

"Why wouldn't he just talk to me about this?"

"I don't think he really understands it himself. He likes to work things out in his mind before he talks about them out loud."

Emma pondered for a while. "Do you think I should ask him for another try? Would it be completely beneath my dignity?"

Travis put up his hands, stood and stepped away. "I draw the line at interpreting. I'll tell you what's going on in someone else's head, but I don't give advice. You'll have to answer that question for yourself."

"Thanks a lot," Emma said sarcastically. "You do not make a very good girlfriend."

"Glad to hear it. I need to get back to work. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Emma shook her head. She thanked him and walked him out the door. It felt kind of good waving good-bye to him from her very own front stoop.