Forget me not cowboy: enemies to lovers, second chance, small town, mistaken identity, amnesia, clea
Forget Me Not Cowboy: Enemies to Lovers, Second Chance, Small Town, Mistaken Identity, Amnesia, Clean Romance Skylar White
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Yours To Forget: A Small Town, Second Chance Romance (Dixon Creek Ranch Book 4) Emily Silver
“I’mjusttired,it’llpass,”IreplyasIwaveheroff Eventhoughmyheadisbeginningtopound,Itaketheclipboardinmy handandentertheinformationonmypatient’ssheetintothecomputer. Another set of twins to begin adding to the maternity ward rounds One’s being sent off to the NICU
“Penny,Idon’tgottimeforthat.”IsighasIlookatmywatch,standingupquickly.Apparentlyit’sfartoofastbecausethe nextthingIremember is wakingup ina hospital bed downinthe emergencyroom The headache I’d had fromearlier was muchworseasIlaythereshiveringunderastackofblankets.
“I’mfine,”Iinsist,andIgotositup.Immediately,Iregretit,thepoundinginmyheadroaringaspainshootstomyeyebrow. Iputmyhand to myforehead, realizingthatthere’s a bandage there, and whenIgentlypress itIletouta gentle hiss as it’s tendertothetouch.
“Itwas bound to happensooner or later withas rampantas it’s beenaround here, Darla,” Doctor Lee says witha shrug. “ThebiggerdealhereisthatI’mnowalsoabitworriedaboutaconcussiontobehonest”
“Well,thatwouldexplainthetenderness,”Ireply,frowning. Of course, I’d have to be the one to beef it on the ward like a fool, Ithinktomyself Now all the girls are going to be yucking it up about it later Well, whoever can even make it in “ButifIcanjustrestawhile,IthinkI’llbegoodtogobackupthere.”
“Yes, really,” Doctor Lee replied with a smile. “But don’t worry, I already talked to Doctor Proctor; I told him what happened,andwe’vecalledYenniferinfromICUtofillyourspot” “Wait,you’resendingmehome?”Iask.
“Ifyou’reworriedaboutahittoyourattendance,trustme,you’vegotenoughsickdays” Yeah. . . but not paid ones at the moment. Abig emphasis on the ‘not being paid for it’part.
Normally,beingsenthomewouldbefine...butwearereallydependingontheextramoney.Instantly,Iamworriedabout Josephgettingfrustrated,buthe’sareasonableman,andIknowthatI’mprojectingmyowninsecuritiesontohim “I’ll have Tabbycome alongwithyour discharge papers,” Doctor Lee says after givingme a good lookover. “I suggest callingJoeandtryingtogetaride yourpupildilationisalright,butI’dratherbesafe Itriedcallingalready,butIdidn’tget ananswer.”
“Pennyleftyourpurseonthetraythere,”DoctorLeesaysashegoestoleavetheroom “Feelbetter,Darla” “Thanks,Doc,”Ireply,andhegivesmeasmileandalittlewavebeforeheadingbackoutintotheatrium,slippingmyfolder intothestackfor‘discharges’beforegrabbinganotherclipboardfromintakeandspeedwalkingoff “Shoot,”IsayasIsnatchmypurseupoffthetableandbeginfishingthroughituntilIfinallyfindmycellphone.“It’stwoin themorning,”Imutter tomyselfas Iscroll throughmycontacts,findJoe,andimmediatelydreadhittingthecall button,once againovercome withthe worrythathe will be upset the threatofdisappointmentmydaddywould have had carryingover intomyadultlife. He’s going to be so irritated he’s finally got a day off tomorrow Isitandwait,listeningtothetrill ofthephoneasitrings,waitingonbatedbreathforhimtoanswer However,insteadof beingmetbyhisrich,velvetyvoice,I’mmetwithhisjovialvoicemailmessage,andIquicklyhangup. Weird, IthinktomyselfasIcall again,onlytogetthesameresult Did he turn his ringer off? Iaskmyselfas Itryagain Samething.Voicemail. I mean, he might have the day off, but he’s the neurosurgeon on call. . . he’s got to have the thing turned on
After Tabby comes in with Tylenol and my release forms, I slowly creep out into the hallway, my bag slung over my shoulder. Idon’twantDoctor Lee to see me leavingwithoutJoseph, so Ipeer throughthe glass, waitinguntil he ducks into anotherroomtomakemyescape
I’mconfidentthateventhoughmyheadisthumpinglikeadrumthatI’llbefine.Myvisionisn’tdoubleorblurredsoIscurry outtothe parkinglot,andheadhome Apartofme is sure thatJosephis okay,butwe are inour forties now anythingcan happen,andit’sreallybotheringmethathe’sstillnotpickingup.
ItremindsmeofbeingbackhomeontheranchwithmyfolksinKansas.TheWhiteDahlia,namedaftermygranny,memories ofmymamainthekitchenmakingapplecrispandcrumble ButJosephhasnever beenmuchofacandleburner himself So, what’shedoingburningmystash?
“Honey?”Icallout,andinsteadofananswer,Ihearshufflingcomingfromthebackhall leadingtoourroom “Honey,are you alright?” I ask, but still no answer, and my heart begins to pound as I get closer and closer to the doorway and hear muffled,almosturgentwhispers.
“Whatintheworldisgoingon?”ThewordsspilloutofmymouthasIbustopenthedoortoourbedroomwithaswiftkick, and I feel like my whole body is on fire when I don’t find Joseph alone. Instead, there’s a young woman in lingerie, her derrierehangingoutasshetriestoclimboutthewindow,mymakeupclatteringoffthesmalldressershe’sstandingon “Hold itrightthere,”Isnap,andthelace-cladladyofthenightfreezesinplaceatthesoundofmyvoice.
“Darla,Icanexplain ”
“Explainwhat? Youinbedwiththis hussy?” Iyell,andJoseph’s face goes froma pale peachtoa brightredas she pulls herselfoutofthe window, nearlyslippingand fallingto the floor as she struggles to getdown, coveringher heavingbosom withherarms
“There’snoneedforallthat!”heyellsasthewomancowersbythewindow,tryingtobenddownandgatherupherclothes. “I-I’msorry,Ididn’tknow,”shesputtersnervously “Hetoldmethathewasseparatedandgettingadivorce” “Oh,is thatso?”Isayas Icockonehip,all thefatigue andweariness completelydissipatingas Icross myarms over my chest.
“Darla,I ”
“Youwhat? What? Goonandtrytomake some sortofexcuse now!” Iholler,adrenaline blastingthroughmyveins as his facefalls Helooksdownintohislapashismistresshurriedtogetdressed “Don’tyouworry,Joseph,I’llgiveyouexactlywhatyouwant,”Isayasmyvoicebeginstocrack,andmyeyesstingwith tears “Now,youtake your harlot,andgetoutofmyhouse,” Isayas Ipickuphis jeans near myfeetandthrow themathim hard,rightinhisface,beforeIturnonmyheelandwalkaway.
Icanheararguingbetweenthetwoofthemastheyhurrytogetdressed,andIwalkoutintothelivingroom,puttingmyhead inmyhands. Don’t you dare show any emotion, Ibegmybrainandbody. Wait to cry until they leave Don’t even give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s got to you. It’s obvious he could give a lick about how you feel, bringing another woman into your bed You hold your head high and make him think you don’t give a crap He certainly didn’t
Shewalksoutfirst,sheepishlymouthingsorrytome,pumpsinhandasshesneaksoutthedoor.Afewminuteslater,Joseph followswithacoupleofsmallsuitcasesinhishands Hestopsandlooksatmeandshakeshishead “Youknow,noneofthiswouldhavehappenedifyouwereeverhome,”hesays,andimmediatelyIfeelragecreepthrough my veins. I have been working my tail off for us For our home For our farm To keep the lives we ’ ve been living sustainable and he dares to say something like that to me after I find him with some twenty-year-old filled with ten pounds of silicone?
Iletoutagutturalscreambeforepickingupthevaseonthecoffeetableandchuckingitathim “Getout!” Iscreamas Ifinallybreak, tears streamingdownmyface as the vase shatters againstthe wall, missinghimby inches
“Areyoucrazy?”Josephyells,andIfeelalittlesmirkcreepintothesideofmymouthasIhearPatsyClineplayinmymind. And I’m crazy for loving you “Don’tyouevercomebackhere”
ChapterOne
DARLA
IfeelawaveofsadnesswashovermeasIbegintowrapupallmylittlecowcollectiblesinoldnewspapersthatSparrow broughtme,gentlyplacingthemintoa boxheavilycushionedbybubble wrap.The more Ipack,the more the oldhouse gets emptierandemptier,andwhileIhateleavingitallbehind,IknowthatIcan’tafforditanymore.
I’dwonthehouseintherathermessydivorce,abletoprovehewasadulterousquiteeasily,sotoloseitherenowfeelslike sucha bigloss.Maybe thatsounds a bitpetty,butwhenyour heart’s beenrippedintwobythe manyoustoodbyfor nearly thirty years, it had felt good to keep it The farmhad always been my passion project anyways But on my income, I just couldn’tswingit,andIwasgoingmoreandmoreintodebt.
Imean,afterwhatI’ddiscoveredhappeninginmyownbed,it’sprobablyforthebest Icouldn’tbeartogointhere,letalone sleep inthe roomI’d shared for decades withJoseph. Evenafter Sparrow, mydaughter, helped me geta new bed. . . Istill couldn’t sleep in that room and I began to hate living in a house full of heartbreak The living roombecame my new bedroom,notwantingtodisturbeitherofthekids’oldroomsincasetheyweretoeverneedit.
Itseems sosurreal thatJosephhaddone whathe did,andthatwe wouldn’tbe spendingthe restofour lives together like we’d always talked about We had beentogether since we were sixteen, married almostthirtyyears, and I’mstill unsure of whyhedidwhathedid.
Therehadbeennosignsthathewasstrayingawayfromme Imean,wehadbothbeenworkingaton littledidIknowthat ithadmoretodowithhimcourtingother girlsthanithadbeenaboutthebillsgoingup.Itwasahardpill toswallow.Ihad thought that we were the perfect team, like Dolly Parton and Carl Dean But I had been wrong, and it still hurts Like a festering,openwoundthattimeisn’tseemingtoheal. Iguessthatoldsayingiswrong.
“Oh, okay, thanks,” she says as she wraps it, puts itinnewspaper, and places itinthe bib pocketofher shortalls before placinglittleJadeonthefloortorollaround.“So,youexcitedaboutmovingdowntoThistleberry?”
I’mabitsadthatJoewantstostayinAmarillo,buthe’sagrownman,andthere’snotmuchIcandoaboutthat Hesayshe’ll visit, but his visits are so sparse even now that I doubt he will live up to that promise. He’s a busy man, working some highfalutinofficejob,andI’mproudofhim
“To be honest, it’s a bit weird youknow?” I saywitha sigh. “I’ve beenhere so long. I’mused to myjob here, and my friends...thoughI’mgladyou’llbeclose.”
Ms thingwas wantedinseveral states for the extortionofa handful ofolder men,blackmailingthemintogivingher their money thoughIdon’tknow thedetailsastowhatexactlyshehadonthem.Notonlythat,butapparentlyshe’dhurtafew of them,andtheywerelookingforherallover andfoundoutthatshewaswithJoseph
“Thankyou,” I sayas I heave a sighand shove the phone inmypocket. We continue packingtogether, takingbreaks for SparrowtofeedlittleJadeandforustoplaywithher.
Not a chance,IthinktomyselfasIclickontheweatherappandsettledownonthecouch OnceIgetthere,I’llmakefriends atwork,I’msure.Idon’tneedsomesortofmagicapptohelpmewiththat,andIcertainlydon’tneedtotrytofindsomeone new WhywouldIwanttowastethenextthirtyyearswithsomeonejusttoendupaloneanddisappointedalloveragain? Idon’tthinkmyheartcouldtakeit.
suncatcher onthe porchbegins to chime. It’s a nonsensical melodythatis somehow still easyonthe ears. Ismile as Ilay therefora moment,rememberingwhenmysweetMelaniehadhungitupwhenwe’dfirstmovedin,tellingmeweneededalittlecolor andflair inourstarkwhitefarmhouse.
“Mornin’Mel,”IsaylikeIdoeverydaybeforeIgetupandgotomydresser,hopoutofmypj’s,andgetdressedfortheday. But today,I’mtryingtolookmoreprofessionalthanusual.I’vegotapotentialnewhirecomingin,andIwanttolookthepartof aboss notjustsomescruffyrancher.
Butfirst,it’stimetomakebreakfast
Iturnonthe small radio onthe shelf, and as “Chattahoochee” starts to play, IputonMel’s old apronand beginto make breakfastfor theboysandI Imakeuscheesyscrambledeggs,toast,andsomebacon,andthenpoureachoneofusacoolglassofmilk Itmaybejustaftertheholidays,butinTexasit’sstillhot,andalreadythatheatistryingtoeekinthroughthewindowover thesinkI gotopentostopthebaconI’mcookingfromsmokingupthehouse.
“Courtin’Beckycancome after chorin’,” Isaywitha chuckle, and Zackstifles a laughas we all chatamongstourselves, shootingthe breezewhileweenjoytherestofourbreakfast.There’sonlyonethingmissingthatcouldmakethemorningbetter.Butshe’s been missingalongtimenow.Andeventhoughthat’sbeenmyrealityforsolong,everydayIwakeupandsheisn’tthereisstill asjarring asthelast.
“Alright,nowjustbecauseI’mdoinganinterviewdoesn’tmeanyoutwogettodillydally,”IsayasIgetmyfancyjacketon. “I’mgoing toheaduptotheofficeanddosomepaperworkI’mbehindonwhileIwaitforthisguy.Butyoutwoneedtogettofeedin’ and muckin’”
“Thanks,”IsayasIheadout,hopintomybeat-upol’truck,andheadtowardtheoffice,whichistowardthefrontgatesofthe massive propertyIown.Nottotootmyownhorn,butoutofalltheranchesinthearea,mygrassisthegreenest,andmyanimalsseem the happiest,whichissomethingItakemassivepridein.
Noteveryoneseemstohavethesamededicationthatmeandtheboysdo,butthatseemstobehowitisthesedays Working hard hasdwindleddowntohardlyworkin’,andasIwalkintotheofficetoworkonsomequarterlytaxpapers,Iwonderifthis guycomingin isgoingtobeanotherdud.I’vehadplentyofranchhandscomeandgo,andsomeofthemweregreat.Butthelastone unbeknownsttothekids hadbeenafelon,andhe’dtriedtorobmyaccountsdry,whichiswhytheinterviewisimportantto me.
“Ohjeez,Ididn’tevenhearyouknock,”IsayasIlookuptoseeamanalittleyoungerthanmewearingablackcowboyhat, ablack dress shirt, and Wrangler jeans. He’s a bitscruffy, butIdon’tmind so much. Beinga bitscruffydoesn’tmeanyou’re bad news.
“Of course! I’ll grab some of that, lo mein, some fried rice, beef and broccoli and what was that one thingyoulike Danny?”
“Oh,um,shrimpandscallopsinthespicygarlicsauce,”Danielreplies“Yougotit!”Ipickupmycellphoneandlookupthe local Chinese place and put inour order It’s not longbefore theyget to the house, and all of us beginto chow down, sitting crisscrosson
best Plus,evenwiththehousebeingsmaller,andthemortgagebeingless,itwasstillexpensivetohandleallonmyown “If you say so,” Sparrow replies as I look in the bag, searching for the sugar buns I’d ordered with our food, but unfortunately,theyaren’tthere.
“Comeagain?”Iask,hitwithawaveofsurpriseatfirst,whichrapidlychangestoanunimpressedleer “Ijustthinkthatmaybe we mayhave beena bittoohastywithall this divorce stuff,” he replies,andhis answer boils my blood Ilost
“Youcan’tbeserious,”Josephreplies “Deadserious,”Ireply.“ThetimefortalkingaboutuswentoutthewindowthemomentIfoundyouinourbedwith what washer name?Lilith?”Isay,archingmyeyebrow.“Sheisquitetheshe-devil,huh?”
“How did youevenfind me?” Iask, totallyignoringhis question. We’d lived outinthe countryside inAmarillo, and our closest neighborhadbeenmilesaway.So,itcouldn’thavebeenthem.Theonlyotherpeopleitcouldhavebeenwasmycoworkers atthe hospital,buttherewasnowayanyofthegirlsonthelaboranddeliverywardwouldhavetalked.Theyallhatedhim.Plain andsimple.
Andhonestly?Ifeelmuchthesameway.
“Wasn’t too hard. I stopped by the post office and said that I was trying to get ahold of you, and Brett gave me your forwarding address,”Josephsaidwithashrug.
“Well,youcantellBrettthathecankisshisjobgoodbyebecauseIhavehalfamindtocallhissupervisor!” “Mama, is everything okay out here?” Sparrow asks as she steps outside. Her eyes lock on Joseph and her demeanor immediately sours “Whatareyoudoinghere?”
Tears threatento streamdownmycheeks as ithits me eventhoughIamso angryathim, thatIfeel so muchhatred and resentment towardhim apartofmestillcaresdeepdown Stillwantstobethereforhim ButIcan’tandwon’tletthatsidewinout Iwillnever everletanyonetreatmelikeJoedid Noteveragain NotevenifIstilllovethem Thatsweetinnocent,summerchildDarla isgone,and Iwon’tlethimthinkforasecondthathecanevergetmeback Irev the engine, hitthe gas, and peel outofthatdriveway, leavinghiminthe rearview, coughingonmydust. As Ispeed downthe road toward town, I choke downmytears so I don’t make a mess of mymakeup I don’t want to looklike anunhinged ragamuffinon myfirsttriptothestore Firstappearancesareeverything,youknow.
ChapterFour
ELI
It’sbeenalongdayoffeeding,mucking,andranching,andmydogsarebarkingasIheadintotheshedandlookforthefeed formy
oldesthorse,Tango.He’sanolddapplegray,theveryfirsthorseweevergotwhenwemovedtotheranch,infact,andhe’s pushingon inyears.Abouttwenty-fiveIreckon,andheneeds special feedandsuch,unlikethenewer,younger horses.Easier stuffto chewwith morevitaminsandsuchtohelpwithbonehealth.
“Shoot,”IsightomyselfasIsiftthroughthebagsoffeed
“What’swrong?”Mitchasks,comingupbehindmewithamuckingrakeinhishand,settingitagainstthewallnexttosome other tools
“We’reoutofthatseniorhorsefeedforTango,”IreplyasIgetupwithagrunt,mykneesstartingtoweaken,notwhatthey oncewere Guess I’ll need some of that feed soon too, Ithinktomyself,holdingbackachuckle.Fifty-fourisn’tsomespringchicken. “Awshoot,”Mitchreplies “Didyouwantmetogogetit?”heasks,andIlookatmywristwatchandshakemyhead “Nah,it’snearlysixnow.You’vealreadystayedwaylongerthanyoushouldhavefortheday,”IsayasIwalkoutoftheshed andinto thesun,itsrayswarmingmyface “Justmakesureallthetoolsyou’vebeenusingareputawayandheadhome” “Well,alrightthen,”Mitchrepliesashefollowsmeout.“I’llseeyoutomorrowthen.” “Yep,I’llcatchyalater,”IsayasIpatmybackpockettomakesuremywalletwasstillthereandheadformytruck Icrank upthetunes andheadouttotown,tappingmyfingersonthesteeringwheeltoClintBlack’s“LiketheRain”asIweavethroughthehills Imakeittotownjustastheradio’sDJswitchesforthenightcrew,signalingthatitwasfinallysix.Thesixo’clockcrew playedmostly newstuff,andwhileIdon’thatethenewerstuff,I’mdefinitelyaninetiesandolderkindofcountryman GivemeTravisTritt,ClintBlack,JoeDiffie,MarkChestnut...evenShaniaifyouhadmeintherightmood.Melhadloved her,that’sfor
sure.Her andthose Dixie Chicks,butIsuppose they’re notcalledthatanymore.The Chicks is whatthey’re callednow,I think.Either way,theninetieswereanamazingtimeforme,atimewhenlovehadfoundme Icherishthemandthosesongsdeeply They remind meofbettertimes
Isteppedintoasupplystoreand,muchtomyfrustration,hadtotrytwoothersbeforeIfoundTango’sfeed,everyoneelsebut Weatherby’s outofstock As Ilifted the two bags I’d snagged and puttheminto the backofmyold Ford F-350, Ifeltmy pocket vibrate.Idippedmyhandinandpulledoutmyphone,unlockedthescreen,andsawthatZackhadtexted.
Hey Dad, since you ’ re downtown, do you think you could stop at the store and grab me some deodorant and some snacks? Honey mustard pretzels, pickles, and some salt and vinegar chips? Sure, IrepliedasIclimbedintothecabinofthetruckandchuckledtomyself. You’re going to become a pickle at this rate with all those pickles and salt.
Luckily,whenIpullintotheparkinglotofthestore,it’sprettydead,whichisprobablynotsogreatforthestorebutgreatfor me I’m notreallymuchofa manfor crowds, nor do Ireallysocialize much, so Iavoid themanytime Ican. Plus, itmeans Ican actuallygetto the butcher counter to talkto Alanaboutbringinga few cows downfor himto take care ofand sell. SomethingI’ve been meaningto doforweeks.
Igrabahandbasketandgettowork,firstgrabbingafewthingsIknewwewouldneedsoon,rememberingthatwewereout ofbacon, havingusedtherestonbreakfastthismorning.Then,IbegantostartonZack’slittlelist. Admittedly,I’mdistractedbymyownthoughtsasIquicklyglancedownatmyphonescreenwhensuddenly,somethingslams me squareinthechestasIturndownthechipisle,somethinghard.WhenIlookawayfrommyphoneanddownatmychest,it’s covered inbitsofblueish-purplegoopandcrustyflakes,alongsideacoupleofsoftblueberries.Thearomaofpiefillsmynose.
“Ow!”Ihearawhinedriftupfromthefloor,andmyeyesglancefrommylightbluebutton-upanddowntowardthesoundto seea ratherbeautifulwomansittingthereonthetilefloor She’saboutmyage,no,younger,Ithink equallycoveredinpie,and therestof it is crumbled all around her in clumps. Immediately, I feel terrible. Her tight-fitting, red and white dress no doubt completelyruined bythemessI’dcaused.
She must be new, IthinktomyselfasIrealizeI’veneverseenherfacebefore No one dresses like that around here Even her hair reminds of the old pin-up mags my grandpa used to have in the garage, pin curls and all Almost too Hollywood to ever be from Texas.
She’s gorgeous “Ms,Iamsosorry,”IsayasIputoutmyhandtotrytohelpherup “Icangiveyouthemoneyforanewdressorsomedry cleaningor something” Buther piercingbrowneyes leer atme frombeneathher doe-like lashes withanicystare as she smacks my handawayfromher,hereyesglazedoverwithtears.
“Whatiswrongwithyou?”sheexclaims,pushingherselfuptoherfeetandpullingoffherleathergloves,doingherbestto brushwhat shecouldoffthefrontofher anythingthatwasn’tstucktothefabricofherdress. Thesoutherntwanginhervoicerevealedthatshewas,attheveryleast,fromthesouth Butherattitudewascertainlynotthe good oldcalm,cool,andcollectedtoneI’dcometoknowinmyfifty-fouryears Infact,itcaughtmeoffguard “Don’tyouknow how to lookwhere you’re going?” she asks, her voice seemingto become more and more angrybythe second.
Maybe she’s having a bad day, IthinktomyselfasItrytofigureoutawaytodiffusethesituation “Listen,Ms,Idon’twant anytrouble here,Ipromise I’mjusttryingtodotherightthing” Shebeginstosob,shakingherhead.“Theonlyrightthingyoucouldhavedonewaswatchwhatyouweredoing,you...you. lunkhead!”
“Lunkhead?”Irepeat,flabbergastedatherescalation.“Lady,itwasanaccident,it’snottheendoftheworld.” “Oh, can it!” she says. “If you hadn’t been eyes deep into your phone, looking at God knows what, this wouldn’t have happened”
“Youdon’tgotto bother the janitor,” Isaid as Ifinished cleaningmyselfup and gotonmyhands and knees. “Igotthis if you’vegot somecleaneratyourregister.Wasmyfaultanyways.”
The helpful clerk scurried off and came back with a bottle of spray cleaner and a little trash bag, and I went to work, cleaningupthe obliteratedblueberrypiefromthefloor.After Igotitall up,Ipickedmybasketbackupandwentrightbacktoshopping, thoughI triedtocautiouslyrushthroughit.
“Yeah, well, youdon’t know what someone’s goingthroughI suppose,” I sayas he rings up mygroceries. I pull out my wallet,payin cash,leavehimatipwhilehe’sdistracted sohecan’targuewithmeaboutit andheadbackouttothetruck. Icarefullypeelofftheshirtandfoldthemessinonitselfsononeofitgetsonmyseat,leavingmeinmyblackundershirtand jeans.
Welp, I’m going to definitely need another shower, IthinktomyselfasItakeacloserlookintherearview,noticingthere’s blueberry streakedacrossmyface,myear,andeveninmyhair. BythetimeIgetbackhome,it’sgettinglate,nearlyseven-thirty WhenIgetthroughthedoor,ZackandNoaharesittingatthe table, waitingpatientlyliketwopupsatsuppertime “Hey!”Noahcallsout,noseinhisphone.
Everyone gawked atme inbothplaces and notbecause Iwas some beautiful bombshell. Butbecause Ilooked like a hot mess Which, tobefair,atthemoment,isn’tfarfromthetruth.
Somuchforfirstimpressions
“Ohmygosh,Ma,”Sparrowgasps.“Whathappenedtoyourdress?” “Youknow, Idon’tthinkIwantto talkaboutit,” Isayas Ihand Sparrow the pie and a halfgallonofFrenchvanilla ice cream,andthen walkintothebedroomandquicklyslipintosomethingmorecomfortable...andlesscoveredinpie. “JosephtakeoffafterIleft?”IaskasIwalkbackouttothelivingroom “TookabitofconvincingfromDaniel,butheleft,”Sparrowsays.
“Ihopehewasn’ttoomuchtrouble,”Ireply,feelingbadfor leavingthemtherewithJoseph NotthatIthoughtthatJoseph wouldhurt anybody,butbecauseofthetensionbetweenthemallsinceJosephhaddonewhathedid. “Itwasreallynotrouble,”Danielinsisted “Well,let’sgetthatpieintheovenandwarmitup,”IsayasIforceasmile.“Ihopey’alllovesomeapplecrumble.” “Soundsgoodtome,”Sparrowsaysaswepreheattheoven “I’msorryaboutDad,”Sparrowapologizes “It’snotyourfaultdarlin’,”Iinsist.“He’sactinglikeahitdog,eventhoughhe’stheonethatcausedallofthis.” “Well,I’msorryallthesame,”Sparrowsaysasshewrapsherarmsaroundme,squeezingmetight “Thankyou,”IsayasIholdbacktears.Whenthepiewasready,IcutitupaswechattedaboutanythingotherthanJosephor what happened at the store “Aw, youguys,” I gasp and smile as we all sit around the diningroomtable that they’d put back togetherwhile Iwasgone “Itlooksgood!”“Wefigureditwouldbebetterthansittingonthefloor,”Danielsaid “Plus,Ifoundtheelectric
“Wewillseeyousoon,okay?”Sparrowsaysasshe’swalkingoutthedoor,Danielalreadyatthecar “Andremember,check outthat app!There’splentyoffishinthesea,friendsorotherwise” “Alright,” Isaywitha nod as Iclose the door behind her, and Iwatchoutthe window as the lights ontheir vanlightup, slowlybacking awayuntilthey’reoutontheroadandtheydisappearfromsight. Immediately,asIstepawayfromthewindow,I’mhitwithagrippingsensationoflonelinessthatmakesmestarttocryagain asIclean upthetablefromdessert.Thencomestheanger,thebitterness,andthesadnessallrolledupintooneasIslammyhandon the wood.
How could he do this to me? To us! And then, after he messes it all up, he has the nerve to come to my home and ask for a place to rest his head? Unbelievable!What a sad sack of crap!
I’mahurricaneofemotionsasIfinishupcleaninganddecidetotakeashower,realizingtherearestillbitsofblueberryin my strawberryblondelocks.IwashitreallywellbeforeIblowitdry,putonmysilkcap,andhopintomypj’s,draggingmyself intomy lonelybed.
I’msotired,exhaustedeven,butthesandmanisn’tonmysidetonight.Itossandturn,tryingtogetcomfortable,butmymind isa buzzingwhirthatjustwon’tshutup.Theeventsofthedayreplayingoverandoverinmyhead. Annoyed,Igrabmyphoneanddecidetolookuptheweather for tomorrow whenmyfinger slipsandaccidentallyhitsthat blasted pinkheartonmyscreen,pullinguptheLoveandCompanyapp “Dangit,”Igruntinirritation,butasIgotoswipeitaway,Ipauseforamoment.MaybeSparrowisright.Idon’thavetobe lonely.I canjustmake a couple friends inthe area,maybe some other womenwho’ve beenhurt Maybe we canbe as close as the GoldenGirls even!
I don’t need some sort of app to make friends, Ithinkto myself. I can make them at work. There’s also no need to get caught up in anything serious either, that’s for sure Imean,Ihaveneverknownthetouchofanotherman,andeventhoughIfeelstarvedinthatdepartment...I’dratherfeellike thisthan gethurtlike thatagain. Like Istill am. Missingand piningover a fool who didn’tknow whathe had. Beatingmyselfup, wonderingifit reallywasmyfaultformonthsandmonths... No thanks.
I’ll figure itoutonmyown. Idon’tneed some computer mumbo-jumbo to help me figure outwho I’d be bestsuited for, friendsor otherwise Thatsortofstuffwillfallintoplaceorganically Asformen?Idon’tevenwanttolookatanotheronerightnow,letalonemakefriendswiththem.
“Becausewe’donlyjustmet,Ididn’twanttoleaveabadimpression,”Mitchsayswithashrug “Wait. . . if you lost your house, where are you staying?” I decide to prod. Mitch seems wildly uncomfortable with me asking,but unfortunately,IhaveafeelingIalreadyknowtheanswer
“Well golly, thankyou, Eli,” Mitchsays as he pulls his hands out of his pockets and walks toward me. I’mexpectinga handshake,but I’mcaughtoffguardwhenhegivesmeahug,pattingmybackhardbeforeheletsgoofme.“Thanks,man,”Mitchsays,agrin onhis
Iwakeupatthecrackofdawn,yawningbeforekissingMel’spictureandwalkingoutintothelivingroom.Iamsurprisedto findthe couchempty,besidestheblanketsMitchhadusedforthenight,foldedneatlyontheback.Iexpectedhe’dstillbeasleep. Must be that he went to get his stuff, IthoughttomyselfasIheardthefrontdoorcreakopenandslamshut,thenthesoundof Mitch cussingunderhisbreath.
“Youalrightoutthere?”Icallout,walkingintothekitchen “Yeah,sorryaboutthat,handsarefull,”Mitchsaysashehikedaboxupinhishands.“DidIwakeyou?” “No,it’stimeformetogetmyselfaround,”Ireply “Ihave a bunchofstuffatthe storage place, butIranoutand grabbed some ofmyessentials, some stuffto remind me of hometoo.
“Noworries,they’ll comearoundeventually,I’msure,”Mitchreplies,butsomethingaboutitseemsofftome Iknow that mourning and loss can really mess people up, but for a family to break up like that after such a devastating loss, it’s not only heartbreaking,but odd.ButinthesamespiritthatMitchhadn’tbeennosyaboutMel,Idecidetoletitgo.Ifheeverwantstotellme,hewill. Untilthen, it’shisbusiness.
“That’sthefirstthingyouaskafterabandoningyourchoresallday,Casanova?”Noahshootsback,soundingannoyed.“You would knowwhat’sgoingonifyou’dhavebeenhere” “Wait,what?”Zackreplies.
