Big Man

Both occupied at the moment, though my eyes linger on them for longer than strictly necessary. I always loved pool—played it as a way to escape when I was younger, back when Dad was still around, when he’d get into his rages. Then I kept playing through college, mostly because guys found it sexy. After college, I kept playing to dupe guys out of drinks in bars. Guess you could say I’m a regular shark about it.

I grin a little to myself. I’ll have to challenge Grant to that later.

Grant, for his part, has drawn more than a few stares and shouts of welcome as we walked in. He’s waving back now, and gesturing from me to the crowd.

“Y’all will remember Sasha,” he’s saying, voice louder than I’d like, even with the music to cover some of it. “Maryanne’s girl. Sasha, this is…” He trails off with a shrug. “Well, everyone.”

A couple nearby laugh.

Across the yard, I recognize Hank and Etna from the hardware store, deep in conversation with another couple their age. Both of them are eating too, and drinking cans of the local cheap beer I grew up on before I went away to college and learned what real alcohol tasted like.

For some reason, though, watching them, my taste buds are suddenly craving that flavor. That familiar sour tang.

“Want a beer?” Grant asks, following my gaze. Most of the people he just introduced us to have gone back to their meals or conversations, though a few are still stealing surreptitious glances at me from underneath their eyelashes every now and again.

“Sure,” I reply, forcing a wide smile. I’m regretting my dress choice already—hell, maybe the choice to come here at all was a bad one. I should have just let Grant drag me into the bedroom and fuck me all night again. That would be far preferable to being stared at like I’m on display right now.

But as we drift across the room, beers in hand, and settle at a table by the dance floor, some of the stares drift away and drop off. One girl even leans over from a neighboring table to tap my shoulder and smile at me broadly. “Love your dress,” she whispers.

“Thanks.” I offer a hand. “Sasha, by the way.”

“Meredith. You new here too?” she asks.

Ah. Well that would explain the lack of an attitude. My cheeks flush, even as I shrug my shoulders. “Uh… Kind of? It’s a long story.”

Luckily Meredith doesn’t press for details. “I moved back here with Joe after we finished school.” She nudges the guy across the table from her, who starts out of a conversation he’s in with a neighbor for long enough to grin and wave.

“Where are you from originally?” I ask, turning to loop Grant in, only to find he’s been caught in a different conversation with a guy I vaguely recognize. Tommy? No. Trent? Something with a T…

“Philly,” she replies. “So, you know, bit different than this.” She gestures at the party with her beer and laughs softly.

My eyes widen. “Wasn’t that hard, then? Going from a big city to… well. This?”

Meredith laughs. “Hell no. Best decision I ever made. I was a mess up in the northeast. I know that pace of life, that speed, it’s right for some people, but for me, it just made me anxious 24/7. I felt like I always had to be on, on, on, couldn’t ever take time to breathe or relax. And life was just flying by. Here… Well. Life here moves at its own pace. Slower. More sedate. I like that.” She smiles and takes a long swig of her beer.

I sip mine too. It tastes familiar. Not hoppy or unique like a lot of the local brews I drink back in the city, all the fancy ones breweries in Brooklyn are always coming up with. It just tastes simple. Easy to drink.

It tastes like home, I realize with a start.

“I can understand that,” I hear myself saying. But then Grant taps me on the shoulder, and Meredith winks and turns back to Joe, and I spin to attend to my guy.

My guy? Is he that?

I shake that thought off.

“Sasha, you’ll remember Troy,” Grant says.

Troy. “Of course,” I reply, grinning as we shake hands. “You were in my English class senior year right? The one who made all those paper plane notes to throw at… Oh gosh, what was her name?”

“Sarah.” Troy’s smile widens, turns genuine when he realizes that I do remember him after all.

“Sarah, that’s right. How’d that turn out?”

He laughs. “Well, I married her, so guess for yourself.” He leans down to elbow me slightly. “But personally, I’d say it went pretty damn all right.”

Grant’s watching me interact with Troy, something like approval in his eye. I flash a small smile back at Grant, relaxing a little.