Hello, kiddies! I realize it's been a very long time since my last update, but my mother's wedding was this past Sunday, so I was a tad preoccupied with the last minute plans. But I'm back again, and you all have my undivided attention.
So, here's a short but sweet Chapter 5!
"Shannon!" My voice carries through the second floor of the house for the second time. "I need your help!"
I take the stairs barefoot and two at a time, hurriedly buttoning my dark fade Levi's and tugging on my white wifebeater. I'm carrying the two shirt hangers between my teeth as I get to the bottom, and I almost fall over my own bumbling feet as I make my way down the hall to the kitchen. I glance at the tacky analog clock with the Budweiser logo that hangs on the muted blue wall of the corridor. Its neon hands read 6:30, which means I have thirty minutes to choose a shirt, pick up the bunch of tiger lilies I ordered from the HyVee down the block, and go get Rachel. After spending every second since she asked me out this afternoon making sure everything will be perfect for our first night out, being late is simply not an option. I find Shannon sitting at the kitchen table with several sheets of rankings and scouting reports strewn across the balsa wood surface. She peers up at me over her half-moon reading glasses to take in my disheveled appearance and fights back a hearty chortle.
"Looks like Berry's already driving you bananas, Lion Quinn," she manages to force out, her rosy cheeks full of laughter.
Less than amused, I scowl and hold up the two dress shirts for her to survey. "Which one?"
She strokes her chin in an animated display of contemplation before pointing to the chocolate brown collared shirt in my left hand. I shuck it off the clear plastic hanger and shrug in on over my undershirt, my fingers anxiously tripping over the ivory buttons. Shannon stands up and covers my hands with hers, finishing the buttons and placing her hands on my shoulders.
"Quit stressin' so much, Q-Ball. You'll be fine. You're a great kid, and quite the lady-killer. I'll be surprised if Rachel doesn't just skip the date and take you for a little roll in the hay instead."
I laugh at that, but my lower abdomen flutters as I, not for the first time, picture Rachel naked. My eyes gloss over at the arousing thought before Shannon's light chuckle brings me out of my Berry-induced trance.
"Now, I'm serious, kiddo. This is the first girl since Santana blew into town last year, and we both know how that ended…"
Yes, we did.
Santana Lopez, better known to every female in Lima as 'Satan', had arrived last July for the M & M Rodeo Entertainment Women's Barreling Showcase. I'd heard from all the guys at the fairground that she was trouble, and that she, like me, "liked her steer". I recall the first time I saw her ride; long, silky black hair billowing in the breeze as she rounded barrel after barrel like a champion. After the competition, she'd sauntered over and introduced herself, extending her hand and tossing me a wink. From that moment forward, I was putty in her hands. She'd let me take her out to dinner at Shane's Rib Shack that night, and fell into bed with me in my room at Shannon's about two hours later. I still remember her flawless caramel skin, perfectly sized breasts, and the cursive tattoo that read 'Diablo' across the dimples of her lower back. The dirty things she whispered in my ear as she drove me over the edge again and again got me hooked on her like a drug, and we had hot, passionate sex until the sun started to turn the night sky pink. But, as I found out from Puck was customary for her, I awoke the next morning to an empty bed and a note on my nightstand.
"Last night was fun. Hope to see you around. – S"
I never saw her again. The fairground manager told me she'd gone back to Arizona after winning the Showcase and collecting her prize money, and that he didn't know how to get in touch with her.
The guys were right… She really was Satan.
Shannon pulls me into a hug, clearly seeing the effect of the flashback written all over my face. I wrap my arms as far around her as they'll stretch to return the embrace, and I feel Shannon's lips on the top of my head.
"If only Judy knew how you'd changed, she'd understand. You deserve better, Quinn. You deserve to be loved."
Tears spring up in my eyes at her tender words; and in that moment, for the first time in six years, I say what I'd always been afraid to.
"Thanks… Mom."
Now, I have another little review challenge for my faithful readers:
The first reviewer to correctly name the source of Shannon Beiste's last line (hint: It's a very famous musical, and the TV film version stars pop artist Brandy Norwood as the lead) will win a sneak peek at the plotline for the next 3 chapters! Hop to it, good buddies! : )
And don't forget to review! : )
