A Hope and a Chance(5)
Author: Jennifer Foor

“Nothing! Well, I was going to say something, but you’ll just get pissed off.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it wasn’t nice to start something and not finish it? If you’re going to assume something, the least you could do is share.” She looked up at me. Her eyes were like blue sparkles, and they glowed against her dark complexion. Summer had just begun, but she was already tanned. Her hair had streaks of different browns, but it didn’t look like it came from a box, it appeared to be natural highlights. She was strikingly beautiful.

No wonder Mark hadn’t mentioned her to me.

“Fine, I was going to say that she really likes the color pink. No, not likes, LOVES the color pink.” Her spontaneous assumption caused her to giggle, as if a color could determine one’s personality.

I wanted to defend my sister, but something about this girl made me feel like she was just trying to break the ice. I hadn’t had a friend in a long time. I couldn’t bring myself to act like an asshole; I needed this. “I never noticed. I suppose she likes a whole array of colors. So what about you? What colors do you favor?”

Did I really just ask that? How lame could I be?

I was surprised when she answered abruptly. “Not pink. Anything but pink.” Hope had a problem with Buffy. In some ways I could even understand why. They were opposites, not to mention that my sister had her claws in the girl’s father. It made sense.

“Okay. Are you always like this, or do you only have an attitude on the weekends?”

“Like what?” She asked innocently, while folding her hands.

“I don’t know. Flip. Sarcastic.”

“How would you feel if you hadn’t seen or talked to your father in over a year? How would you act if he invited you over and ignored you because he was busy staring at his new eye-candy’s fake tits?” I was halfway into a large gulp of bourbon when the word “tits” came out of her pretty little mouth. The liquor went soaring everywhere. Once I stopped gagging from the utter shock, I turned back to face her. She’d stood up from the sofa and placed her hands on her hips. “Look, I’m really sorry that I barged in on you getting changed. Had I been told that someone was living out here, I never would’ve bothered you. It was nice meeting you, Chance. I’m going to get going before I lose my shit or my brunch. Have a nice life.” She stomped out of the pool house with attitude. There was no reason for me to run after her. From the way she was acting, I’d never see her again anyway.

I got up and walked to the window, watching her head back toward the house, while I finished my drink. It was a damn shame that we hadn’t met under different circumstances. There was a lot about her that I would have liked to explore.

I’d start with that killer body, and work my way right into her heart.

3

After I’d come barging back into the main house from my unexpected meeting with Chance, all I was focused on doing was going home. My father was in his recliner watching golf again, while Buffy filed her nails with her feet draped over the end of the couch. I had to laugh at that. My father and mother used to yell at me over and over for sitting that same way on a couch. How could he have changed so much? Furthermore, why hadn’t he come looking for me after brunch was cleaned up? Was this visit all some ploy to earn brownie points with his little honey?

I didn’t hesitate as I made my way into the family room and announced that I was leaving. My father turned and gave me a smile, while Buffy came racing over, planting a big hug on me. I patted her a few times on the back and pulled away from her embrace. “Thanks for brunch. It was nice meeting you.”

Not really!

As soon as I made it out of the driveway, I began to sob. The sheer emotions that were running through my mind were enough to cause me to hyperventilate. I couldn’t have held back the anguish even if I wanted to. Once I’d gotten a few miles away I finally had to pull over to the side of the road, because I couldn’t see through the tears that had filled my eyes.

It was inconceivable for me to understand why he’d moved back here. It certainly hadn’t been because of me. Was I just dreaming or had that really been the catastrophe that I saw it as? While I sat on the side of the road I felt my stomach knotting up. In just enough time I managed to unbuckle my seat belt, get out, and run toward the grass, where I vomited all of the food I’d eaten. I leaned against my car trying to gain some composure, and make sure I was completely finished hurling.

All the times I’d wished I had my father back in my life, and when I got him it was nothing like I pictured it would be. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. There was no way I could drive home like this and explain what happened to my mother. She hated the guy. She’d go out, buy a gun, and then later be on the news for murdering him. Okay, maybe that was going overboard. I had to get myself calmed down first. It was my only option.

While still trying to feel better, I noticed a truck pulling to the side of the road. A male driver got out and began to approach me. I always carried pepper spray on my key ring, but it was still stuck in the ignition of the car. My heart started to beat faster while I began to panic. I wasn’t on a heavily driven road. In fact, while I was puking there hadn’t been any cars that passed going in either direction.

The man’s voice startled me, signaling he’d approached me at a faster rate than I expected. “Are ya alright, miss? Do you need some help?”

He wore a baseball cap that covered his face. While giving him a once over, I noticed a long scar across his cheek. I’m not usually one to stereotype, but he gave me the creeps like he was straight out of a horror movie. He got about a foot away from me and reached for my arm. “Did you hear me, hun? I can take you wherever you want to go. Why don’t you come get into my truck? It’s got a bed in the back.” His long hair stuck out of the rear of his cap. I noticed right away how greasy it was, and how the odor of his body was pungent.

The moment he got a hold of my arm, I froze in place. I couldn’t speak, and I surely couldn’t scream, not that anyone would be able to hear me on this part of the highway anyway.

The man had managed to pull me another four feet away from my car before a motorcycle came driving toward us. At first I feared it would keep going, but the driver skidded in between our vehicles and immediately got his bike into a sitting position. The strange man had released his hold on me as the other person approached rapidly.

“Are you okay?” He asked while still wearing his helmet. For some reason I felt safe answering his question.