Now Who's The Heartbreaker?
Chapter 1
Glenda was naked when the doorbell rang. Thank the Lord she remembered to lock her door; she couldn't have some ol' guy thinking she was a tart.
Her pa was expecting the new cashier boy who would help her pa run the liquor shop.
Her pa was a conservative kind of man. She couldn't stay too long out after school and her dresses had to be knee length. How was a gal to get herself a man if she dressed like a nun? If the new boy was a looker, she could finally get a guy, or at least maybe he could give her rides to clubs all the kids with money went. Point was, she needed to get out and get famous, and she wasn't gonna get anything done in a knee length skirt.
Glenda scurried to her underwear drawer. In her drawer was old, worn out cotton underwear that was probably too antique for her grannie, but this wasn't what she had in mind. After brushing aside all the dinosaur underwear, she pulled out a fresh bra, clean as a little girl in her first communion. It was new. She had saved up for it and secretly bought it from the lingerie section at the mart, making sure none of her pa's friends saw her.
Glenda carefully clipped the bra, and went to the mirror to admire herself. She looked so adult, so fierce with experience, that she could make a living by breaking hearts and acting in movies where men smoked as they drove their cars fast into the lonely night. Even though she was going to turn eighteen tomorrow, Glenda felt like a woman for the first time in her life.
"Glenda! Girl, I'm not done shaving, check if that's the boy I been talkin' bout," her pa called out from the crapper.
"Pa, I'm naked," Glenda yelled back.
"Tha's what them curtains are for," said her pa.
Glenda slipped on panties, walked to the window, and opened the curtain enough to peek out from the second floor.
Down near the driveway was a boy, a wild looking boy, who probably wasn't a boy but a man instead. He stood out, his milky skin glowing with freckles. Dressed like a bandit, too. A real cowboy.
He leaned against his pick up truck, which he had parked too close to the door. That explains why he rang the doorbell and still had time to go lean against the truck. Glenda pulled the curtain farther and stepped forward. He seemed to be looking down at his feet, but Glenda wasn't sure because his cowboy hat covered his eyes.
"He's here, alright," yelled Glenda, turning her head away from the window.
She heard her father walk near her door.
"Is he cute?" he asked.
Glenda pursed her lips, nervous. When her pa asked her these kinds of questions about boys, it meant he wanted to know whether the boy would be trouble. Glenda thought about the boy and his cool demeanor. She felt her blood pulsating, her heart pounding blood lower and lower to her loins.
"No, pa. He looks like Raggedy Andy," Glenda said.
She heard her pa "mhmm" approvingly. Sometimes she worried her pa would send her to a nunnery.
Her pa's steps grew quieter as she heard him walked away from her door, probably to go open the entrance door.
Glenda looked out the window again, and she noticed the boy wasn't looking down anymore. He was looking up, up at the window and straight at her.
She blushed and a smile crept on her lips. Feeling herself warm up, she hugged herself and giggled, letting go of the curtain. She felt her skin and stopped giggling. She was wearing nothing but a bra and panties, and the boy was still looking at her.
She ran from the curtain, ran so fast she slipped on the pajamas she had left lying there and slammed down on the floor. She was a mess alright, but she wasn't a hot mess. More like a "pig in mud" mess is what she felt like.
Her pa would open the door and the boy in any minute, so she needed to at least be wearing something. She got up and rushed to her closet, looking for the prettiest dress she could find, her Sunday best dress.
White knee length dress, baby blue knee length dress, pink knee length dress.
"Sonuvabitch," Glenda said.
She pushed the dresses and shifted through them, but none of them would make her look a fine dame. Then a miracle happened. She found a red gingham dress, two whole inches above her knees. Now she would be a woman. And just in time, too, cause she heard her pa opening the door, and odd, irregular steps following that.
"Glenda, come introduce yerself and get this here fine man a drink," her pa called.
She looked in the mirror one last time and brushed through her puffy hair one last time. For luck, she put on cherry red lipstick, so she could stomp on the boy's heart if he wasn't as fine up close.
As she walked to the front door where her pa and the boy was, she realized she the one who should look out.
"Nice to meet ya, name's Eddie Kreezer," said the boy. He extended his hand. When he did so, his weight shifted, and his left leg was oddly bent, and he hunched over, real stiff. He was a gimp. But a real fine one.
When she let go, she noticed he was eying her up and down. She was ready to die, feeling as if she was nearly naked all over again. He didn't even know her name but he already knew what she looked like in lingerie. But she kind of, sort of, secretly hoped he liked it.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Glenda Bennett," she shook his hand. His was big and rough, totally enveloping her small thin hands, but he felt flimsy, maybe off balance.
"Now how could such a bear of a man make such a pretty flower like this here gal you got?" asked Eddie, smiling. When her pa looked at his watch, Eddie winked at her.
"Go git him some soda pop," her pa told her. His laughter at Eddie's remark sounded real, but Glenda knew he was faking it, cuz her pa gets all possessive 'round her.
When she was getting soda for Eddie, she realized her face was burning hot as the fridge's cold air stung her face. Who would ever have thought that some gimp wanting to work at her pa's liquor store would be her dreamy sheriff with a shiny badge and everything?
His sad, puppy dog gaze had imprinted itself on her mind. If she wanted to have a chance with this fella, her pa would need to approve of him. He had rejected many boys to work at the liquor store, on account of all them being good at getting mighty drunk. She hoped, she hoped real hard, squeezed her eyes shut, hoping, that her pa would let Eddie work.