American Honey

home alone, or I can go in and let Annamae walk all over me, tell me how much she misses me and let her show me a good time in my truck. Either way, I’m screwed. I slide my hat on, adjust the rim and practice my best Tyler King ‘resident cowboy’ smile. Oh yeah, that’s going to knock ‘em dead.

The music is blaring and bodies are moving on the dance floor. The constant thunk of boots hitting the wood at the same time makes the floor vibrate. There are a few girls standing on the edge waiting for a two-step and some fella to come ask them to dance. They’re all dressed similarly with their shorty shorts and cowboy boots on. I’m not usually a fan of this hoochie cowgirl style, except this is how I see Savannah dressing once she realizes she’s meant to be on the ranch. These are the city girls that come down for the weekend, slumming it. They want themselves a real cowboy, but only on the weekends when their corporate daddies are all playing golf and not watching their darling debutantes. This is where Jeremiah thrives. Me? Not so much, unless of course you’re my ex and you’re blocking my way into Reds.

I tip my hat to Annamae who has her hands firmly on her hips. “Evenin’ Annamae. Haven’t seen you at the honkytonk in some time. Rufus out of town?” I should be bitter, but I’m not. He saved me from a life of being a socialite’s husband. Annamae would’ve never moved to the ranch and I definitely don’t want to live where there’s traffic.

“I’ve been tryin’ to get up with you for days.”

“Really? What for?” She hasn’t left a message at my house so I know she’s up to no good. It’s just a matter of me figuring it out before it’s too late.

“I hear you have a Yankee livin’ with y’all.”

Good news travels fast around these parts, except it’s not news and Savannah’s only been here for a day. “Yeah, where’d you that?”

Annamae shrugs. “Around.”

“Uncle Bobby’s kin, that’s all.”

“I don’t know why you call him your uncle. He ain’t.”

“Blood isn’t the only thing to make someone your kin, Annamae. Hell, we would’ve gotten hitched and you would’ve been my kinfolk.” I shake my head at her. Her family is high cotton and all about status. No one is good enough for her family. “I gotta find Jeremiah.”

Annamae looks over her shoulder and angles her head. I look around and spot him on the dance floor being sandwiched by two redheads. I don’t know how he does it, but he’s definitely smooth.

“Have a good night, Annamae.” I leave her standing there to contemplate the meaning of life or whatever else she needs to think about.

“How do?” Della asks as she sets a beer on the bar for me. I nod in her direction, pick up my beer and spin to watch the line dancin’. Girls love it when a guy can dance, but I’m not into the synchronized dancing. Give me a two-step where I can hold my girl and let the music guide us, and I’m happy. I can see Savannah and myself out there dancing. Hell, we used to dance on the porch all the time. She taught me how to two-step. I’m so much better at it now though, and I want to show her. I want to take her out there, place my hand on her neck and guide her around. I want to pull her close and let our bodies move in the same distinct motion. I want to feel her pressed against me and have my hat cover our faces when we kiss. These are all thoughts that I shouldn’t be having about Savannah.

“Ah, well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.”

“What’s wrong, sugah?” I turn at Della’s voice and hang my head. “Don’t go fallin’ for the Yankee.”

I look at her questioningly. “How’d you know about her?”

“Small town. Big bar. Everyone’s talkin’ about the hottie down at the ranch.”

I look around the bar and shake my head. “Jeremiah gossips like a girl.” Della starts laughing.

“Too right.” She walks away, only to return with a full glass for me. “From what I hear, y’all knew each other when you were young’uns?”

“Yeah, she and her momma moved to New York City few years back. Uncle Bobby says she got in some trouble and her momma shipped her back here to finish out school and for the summer. I don’t know what she did and we ain’t really talking’ yet, mostly on the count that I made a fool out of myself when I picked her up.”

Della throws her towel over her shoulder and shakes her head. “Sweetie, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

I spin around on the stool and cross my arms, resting them on the lip of the bar. “It was bad. I went and made this big ole scene, picked her up and swung her around, you know like you’re always talkin’ about in them books you read? Anyway, it wasn’t her, just some random girl that got off the bus with her and ever since then, her demeanor is cold.”

Della tries not to laugh, but can’t hold back. I rest my head on my arm and sigh.

“Listen here, sugah, you have to remind her why y’all were friends to begin with.”

“How?”

“Well I don’t know, Tyler, you have to find somethin’ that was special and just go with it.”

“You mean ask her out?”

Della shakes her head. “Not all girls want to go out. Just remind her of what a sweet, charming boy you are. She’ll be putty in your hands.” Della walks away to tend to the rest of the patrons, leaving me with thoughts of taking Savannah out on the horses or even four-wheeling. Thing is, I don’t know if she likes those types of things anymore. If she were from here, it’d be a no brainer and even though she is from here, she’s changed.

Chapter 8 – Savannah