“Yet,” I counter. “I’m so sorry, Clover. They don’t know you like I do. They wouldn’t dare do that if I was there.”
“But you’re not here,” Clover fires back. “I’m sorting life on my own without your help. For a while, I was trying to make sense of it. They accept you with your Southern roots without a problem, but because I’m a woman from the south I’m automatically the enemy. It didn’t make sense. It doesn’t feel like the normal woman cattiness I’m used to.”
I sigh. “It’s not because you’re Southern. It’s because you’re a woman. Luella has been trying to make us work for years and because Rexy is her brother, she feels some weird claim to me. You can’t take it personally.”
“I can’t?” Clover says, eyes widening. Uh-oh. “They told all their friends not to come to the salon. Goldie was spitting mad because it’s affecting business. All she wanted to do was help me get away from Alabama, and now she’s paying the price for breathing in the same atmosphere as me. I feel awful. I can’t sleep well. I run a lot because it’s the only time I can clear my mind. I throw everything I have into the clients I do get at the salon, but I have to say, Mercer.” I know what she’s going to say next and I know I’ll be equally as surprised as I was expecting it. “I don’t know if it’s going to work out for me here. I’m not cut out for this kind of life. You know I know how to deal with people hating me, but this is different.”
“The Clover I know wouldn’t deal with this. Not from anyone. You’re stronger than they are. It will work out if you decide it will. Think about the woman who left the only place she’s ever known. You are brave.”
“I was brave,” she says, gaze far away. “I don’t think I’m that person any longer. I’m trying the best I know how, but how am I supposed to deal with them without being the catty, Southern bitch they’re accusing me of?” She swore. A real curse word.
“You’re creative. I love you because of that. Give them a taste of their own medicine.”
She meets my gaze through the computer. I see what this is costing her. “Maybe I will,” she says, not really meaning it. “You and Luella? Has it already happened or what? If this is really why they’re attacking me, you surely left a lasting impression.”
Honesty is best given these circumstances. “Once. Like four years ago. I drank too much and I’ll spare you the details because I don’t really recall much anyhow, but she means nothing to me. A friend in every sense of the word. Nothing more.”
“Okay,” Clover says cautiously. “That complicates things a bit.”
I scramble. “No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t. I’ll tell Rexy to get ahold of Luella, okay? Don’t stress over this. I’ll fix it.”
“From another country? While you’re busy trying to save the world? You’ll fix your girlfriend’s idiotic drama problems? You do realize how stupid that sounds, right? I can deal with it. It’s why I never mentioned it before. I want you to focus on your work and getting home to me, Ballentine. I hate you for being with Luella, but give me some time to think this through and I’ll fix things for myself. Promise me you’ll leave it alone. You getting involved will only make them hate me more.”
She’s right. This shouldn’t be on my radar, but it is because I’m that wrapped up in Clover and her happiness. I’d do anything if it brought a smile to her face. I need her to stay in Cape Cod until I get back, until I can show her how amazing life can be with me. With us together.
“I promise,” I reply. “Hey, I believe in you. In case no one has told you that lately.”
That brings a spark to her eyes. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She rattles off an insane story about Tannie and how the election campaigns are ratcheting up in Greenton. The election is soon. It reminds me to check in on my parents. Mid-sentence Clover looks over to where her front door is. “Sherlock,” she exclaims. “That must be Jack.” When she glances at my unimpressed face, she adds, “The neighbor, Jack. The leak. Remember I tried telling you about it earlier. Hold for a second.” She scrambles, clearing the boxes and panties before I hear the creak of an opening door.
Then there is a low rumble of a male’s voice, but I can’t make out any words. Clover laughs. That’s clear. The pit in my stomach widens to encompass my entire body. I ache. The subliminal need to be there right now stronger than anything else in the world. Clover comes back in front of the computer. “I can call you back in a few, Mercer,” she says, not sitting down, just leaning over. “They opened Jack’s wall and found mold. Goldie is over there and says I need to see where it butts up to my unit. They may need to do something to treat it on my side as well,” she explains hastily.
Jack says something in the background, and unfiltered rage ignites my heart. “Sure. I hope everything turns out okay.”
“Bye,” she says, quickly trying to end the call.
“Hey, I love you, Clover,” I say, voice loud.
She smiles wide and it makes me feel a little better. “I love you so much more, Mercer. Talk later.”
She disconnects the call and her face disappears. I don’t know that I’ve ever been surer about anything in my entire life as I am of this moment.
I want to rip my heart from my chest, make her swallow it down, so she can sense what it feels like to live inside my body every second of the day.
How much it costs to love her.
_______________
I’m standing in Rexy’s doorway after nearly breaking his door off the hinges. It’s so late it’s early and he fell back into his room about five minutes ago piss ass, stumbling drunk. He stinks of patchouli, vomit, and Jägermeister. Clover never called me back or got online after we hung up and I’ve been unable to fall asleep. I’m a man on fire, and I can’t keep my mind from wandering to scary places.
“Can’t a man get some sleep in this hell hole?” Rexy growls, voice scratchy and scented by alcohol. “As if today wasn’t a waste of time, now you want to screw with my sleep!”
I breathe in and out a few times—an attempt to ratchet in my rage. “Luella is being a fucking bitch,” I hiss. There really was only one person who I could blame and even though I promised her I wouldn’t say anything to Rexy, I need to or risk doing something really crazy. “Tell your sister I’ll never want anything to do with her. She needs to cut the shit now.”
Rexy tsks me. “Careful, careful. We are talking about my sister, Ballentine. Don’t talk shit about my family.”
“She is fucking with Clover,” I yell. This gets Rexy’s attention, his eyes narrow and I see him sober up a degree.
He closes the door behind me, shaking the handle when he realizes I did break it. “This is about a girl?”
