Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Buxton Peak: Silence from Nashville (Excerpt)

“You care more about Ian than you care about me,” India whispered. Her lip trembled and she lowered her chin to hide her face. “What is it about Ian Taylor that makes everyone follow him around like a puppy dog?” It’s not fair.          
“It’s my job to travel with him.” Ed’s British accent reminded India how far he’d travelled to be here with her in Michigan. “I’m Ian’s bodyguard… and I don’t act like a puppy dog.”
His large frame and commanding persona had captured India’s attention from the day they’d met. Anyone who saw Ed Williams could envision him as either a linebacker for a pro-football team, or the bodyguard for a rock band. He fit the cliché perfectly.
Still, Ed shouldn’t have chosen the beginning of their date to tell India about Ian’s request to join him in Nashville. How was she ever going to enjoy dinner and a movie if she couldn’t get that airplane ticket out of her mind?
“You could get a different job here in Michigan.” Here with me, her eyes pleaded.
The waitress interrupted their conversation, straining to lower a skillet of fajitas onto the table. Sizzling chicken and shrimp nestled on a skillet with sautéed mushrooms. The scent of onions filled the air above the table with a heavenly aroma. Forget Ian; pass the guacamole!
“I love my job.” Ed lifted the lid on the tortilla warmer and pulled apart two tortillas that were stuck together, placing one in front of India and the other on his own plate. “You of all people should understand that. You’re so passionate about your job as a teacher. Just like you could never leave those kids, I can’t let Ian move to Nashville without me.”
Take me with you. India felt her throat clench as she stared down at the warm flour tortilla. What had seemed so appetizing just moments before suddenly became an empty shell. I’d leave my teaching job in a heartbeat if you’d just tell me you love me. Is that so much to ask?
But India couldn’t ask. Girls weren’t supposed to be the first in a relationship to admit they were in love. Sure, she enjoyed teaching her little second graders. They were so full of life and willingness to learn and grow. They loved her, and they told her they loved her. Why can’t he?
One blind date had led to a long series of romantic interludes, shopping, out to dinners, sitting together in church. That was her favorite part. Ed devoted his life to God and wasn’t shy about his love for his Savior and the Church. If only he could channel some of that love toward her. Great, now I’m jealous of Ian Taylor and God? I’m pathetic.
“Ian’s a grown man.” India reached for the little tongs and began lifting meat and vegetables off the skillet and onto her steaming tortilla. “He can take care of himself.”
“You don’t understand what’s it like to be a rock star.” Ed’s condescending tone of voice stopped her hand mid-air. “The guys of Buxton Peak would get mauled if their bodyguards weren’t there to hold back the superfans.”
“You make yourself out to be way more important than you really are.” India dropped the tongs onto the skillet and sank back in the booth, folding her arms across her chest. She was tired of hearing about that stupid rock band full of spoiled, rich kids who couldn’t walk down the street without protection. “Ian could replace you in a heartbeat.”
“That’s not true.” Ed’s tone was defensive. “I am way more than just his employee. We’re best mates. We served as missionaries together. We’ve been through some really good times and some really bad times. He’s like a brother to me.”
“And what am I?” India asked. She felt like a silly little teenager passing notes to the boy in the next row. Do you love me? Check ‘yes’ or ‘no’. It was ridiculous.
“You’re… my girlfriend.” Ed gulped.
I should be more than that… India let his declaration hang in the air over the cooling skillet. They’d been exclusively dating for over a year. What was he waiting for? As she contemplated how to respond, India finished spooning guacamole onto her plate. I’m hungry, and you’re aggravating!
“How is everything so far?” the perky waitress asked. India felt her temper snap.
“My boyfriend’s running away to Nashville to be the lapdog for a rock star,” India said with a sarcastic smirk. “Other than that, the chicken looks delicious, thank you.”
“Uhh…” The waitress peeked over at Ed, who lowered his head into his hands, face and neck turning red. Good, let him squirm. India narrowed her eyes, even though neither of them would notice. India realized she was being discourteous to their server.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s not your fault. Could I get some more ice water?” India asked sweetly, holding up her half-empty glass.
“Sh… sure,” the waitress stammered. She hastily left the table, and Ed finally looked up at India.
“What was that for?” Ed’s eyebrows creased. India couldn’t tell if he was angry or hurt.
“Well… aren’t you?” India continued her snippy attitude. “…running off with Ian?” I’m done trying to be nice about this situation. Either ask me to marry you and come with you to Nashville, or… leave me alone.
“India, be reasonable.” Ed reached across the table and tried to take her hand.
“Be reasonable?” India’s voice carried through the dining room as she stood up from her seat. “You think I’m the one being unreasonable?”
The startled waitress beside India knocked the now full glass of ice water off her tray and down the front of Ed’s lap. He nearly dislodged the table from the wall, jumping off his seat in an attempt to brush the ice cubes off his clothes and pull the cold fabric away from his skin.
“Have a nice flight to Nashville,” India said. She started to walk away, but turned back, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. “You might want to change your pants before you board the private jet Ian sent for you. Goodbye, Ed.”

To read more of India's story, check out Buxton Peak: Silence from Nashville, featured in the anthology collection, Unspoken Words by the creative writers at LDS Beta Readers.



Check out the rest of the Buxton Peak series!





Other books by Julie L. Spencer



No comments: