Southern Sunshine

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Southern Sunshine Page 10

by Natasha Madison


  "No one is going to give you anything, son," he tells me. “If you want it, you have to earn it."

  "I can work with that,” I say and get up. “I’ll get back to you."

  "The offer is there whenever you want," he says, and then I look down and take one step away. “I don’t know what you are hiding …" I stop in my tracks, looking over at him. “But whatever it is." He swallows now. “It brought life back into your eyes." I smirk at him, not sure I can say another word without pouring out my heart to him. Without sitting with him and telling him about Sofia. About missing everything because I was a selfish bastard. About how she smiles like me and how she has the same smirk as both of us. About how fucking amazing she is, and I’ve only spent an hour with her.

  "See you later,” I say, turning and walking out of the clubhouse. I get into the truck, knowing who else I need to talk to.

  When I get to the gym, I walk in and find Ethan on the treadmill running. “Now you show up,” he says to me, not breaking his stride or huffing out. “A little late, don’t you think?"

  "Yeah," I say to him and then walk to the machine where he continues to run. "I had something to do." He just looks over at me, and I stand here with my hands in my back pockets. "What would you do if you were still enlisted in the service?"

  "What do you mean?" he asks and lowers the speed of the treadmill.

  I think about how to word the question without making him suspect anything. “If you were in the service and you had Gabriel and Audrey back home, would you think about leaving?"

  "If I still had time on my contract, then I would have no choice,” he says. “But if I wasn’t enlisted, I wouldn’t be able to leave them."

  "Lots of guys do it." I point out to him. “I had seven brothers who all had families back home."

  "And I have so much respect for them. Not only are they serving the country and keeping us safe." He shuts down the treadmill. “I don’t know how they do it." Grabbing his water bottle, he takes a large pull. “To be away from your wife and kids all the time for months on end." He shakes his head. “It must be fucking torture."

  "I mean, you get to come home on leave." I wait for him to answer me.

  "Yeah, and you get to watch your kids grow up via a fucking phone." He takes another pull of water. “Again, I have respect for them, but if something happened to either of them when I was away, I would not be able to forgive myself or look at myself in the mirror. Waking up every single day to my son and my daughter. You can’t replace that. Not for all the money in the world."

  My stomach sinks when he puts it like that. I knew last night when I sat on my couch what I needed to do. I knew in my heart that it would lead to this conversation. I knew that in the end I would think exactly how Ethan thinks. I knew, in the end, I would not leave her. "Thanks,” I say, and he just nods at me.

  "Is there something you aren’t saying?" he asks, and I just shake my head. In time, I will tell him the truth, but for right now, it’s going to be my secret.

  Chapter 16

  Hazel

  "Momma," Sofia calls my name from the kitchen. “I’m finished." I grab the tray of blueberry scones out of the oven and put them on the stovetop. I’ve been baking all morning long to keep my mind off Reed. Him showing up here this morning shocked me. To be honest, I thought it was either Billy or Casey, which is why I told Sofia to get the door.

  Seeing him stand there with his eyes just as red as mine. Both of us looked like we didn’t sleep all night, and I can say I didn’t. I thought about packing it all up yesterday and leaving. I ran it over in my head, but then I looked over at Sofia and knew that she deserved better. She deserves for me to give him a chance and hear him out. For her. She deserves it all. So much so I called work and asked them for a month off. My stomach was in my throat the whole time, and I wondered if they would even give it to me, but I knew if they didn’t, I would give them my resignation letter. I have a good-size savings, and I know I will be able to get a job.

  "Be right there,” I say, taking off my oven mitt and walking over to her. I sit down next to her and grab the papers she was working on. "Let’s see what you did here." I smile at her and look at the worksheet she’s working on. "You did good."

  "Can we go play outside now?" she asks, and I look over at the stove clock.

  "Let me just clean up a bit,” I say. “Why don’t you go and grab a couple of books and read them to me?” I say, and she gets off the chair and runs to the living room, coming back with four books. "Which one are you going to read first?" I ask, wetting a rag and turning to wipe down the counters that are splattered with flour. Something I should have known when I gave Sofia the electric whisk and a bowl of flour. The knock on the door has me stopping, and I look over at Sofia. My stomach sinks and my heart speeds up when I hear the knock again.

  I put the rag down, walking over to the door, bracing myself for what is to come. I pull it open, and my eyes widen when I see Savannah standing there. "Hey." She smiles at me and puts her sunglasses on her head. "I’m sorry to just drop in. But I was hoping you had some time to talk to me."

  "Oh my gosh," I say, shaking my head. “Please come in." I move to the side, and she comes in. She smells like a garden. Her black hair is in a ponytail as she wears white jeans and a pink shirt. “Please come in,” I say and then smile. “I just took my blueberry scones out of the oven."

  She gasps out. “Well, if this isn’t just my day." She follows me to the kitchen. "There she is," Savannah says, going over to Sofia and squatting down beside her. “I must have heard your name over a hundred times today." She taps her nose with her finger. “Were your ears ringing?”

  Sofia puts her hands to her ears. “Momma, my ears ring,” she says, making us both laugh, and I shake my head.

  "No, honey,” Savannah tells her. “Your ears ring when people are talking about you.” She looks at Savannah, shaking her head.

  "They didn’t ring." She looks at me. “Did you hear it?"

  "I think I did a bit,” I say, and she just shrugs and turns back to her book.

  "Can I get you something to drink?" I ask Savannah as she stands up. “I just made some sweet tea,” I say, walking over to the fridge. “Not going to lie. I have not made that in a while." I take out the glass jug from the fridge.

  "I’ll take whatever you are having," Savannah says, getting up. I pour her a glass of sweet tea and one for myself also, grabbing a small plastic cup for Sofia. I grab the lemon icing and slowly pour some over five scones, placing them on a plate.

  I place the plate in the middle and look at Sofia, who is already reaching out to grab one. “Don’t you dare,” I say, and she stops midway. “Let me get you a plate,” I say, turning and walking to get small plates. “Okay, which one do you want?" She gets up, leaning over the table. “Pick one.”

  She sits there looking at all of them, and I look over and see Savannah with the biggest smile. “It’s a hard choice," she tells her. “But I think they all look good."

  "This one." She points at the one nearest to her. I place it on her plate and hand Savannah hers. "You can choose yours,” I say, and she laughs.

  I sit now with a plate and choose my own. "Oh my God," Savannah says with a full mouth. “Oh my God." I smile, proud that they turned out good. "These are …" she says, closing her eyes and just savoring them. I take my own bite, and the tang of the citrus hits my tongue right away, and then the sweetness from the fresh berries fills my mouth.

  “It’s good, Momma," Sofia says on her knees. “Can I watch television?" I get up, grabbing her plate and her cup, and carry it over to the living room. I put on her show, and she sits down on her little stool watching it.

  "I’m having another one," Savannah says when I walk back to the kitchen.

  "I made three dozen,” I say, and her eyes get big, and she wiggles her eyebrows.

  "How does it feel to be back?" she asks, chewing.

  "It’s different," I answer her, taking my own bite. “But then
again, it’s like coming home. If that makes any sense."

  "It totally does,” she says. “Doesn’t coming home feel good?” Grabbing a napkin and cleaning her hands. “It’s why I came over, actually." I look at her, not saying anything, and I suddenly get hot around my neck, the sweet tea looking to come back up. “I don’t know if you’ve been to town yet,” she says.

  "A couple of times,” I say. “When I got to town and then when I went to see Mr. Devlyn."

  "I don’t know if you saw the new little strip mall that the town just put in." She takes a bite of her scone.

  "The one next to the diner?" I ask, wondering if there is another one and then thinking I really need to go into town and see what else has changed.

  "Yes,” she says. “The town decided that it needed more commercial businesses in order to drum up tourists."

  "That sounds like a great idea,” I say. “What are they thinking of putting there?”

  "So far we have a beauty salon and spa,” she says. “A flower shop, and I was hoping that we could have a little coffee shop."

  "Wouldn’t that be too close to the diner?" I ask. “They sell coffee."

  "Yes," she says, leaning in now. “But I want a little coffee shop where you can go in and grab a cookie and a latte or iced coffee."

  "Yes," I say, nodding my head. “There is one like that right near where we live, and they have the best cheese danishes alive."

  "Exactly." She points at me. “That is exactly what I was thinking. Some small tables, opens in the morning, and closes at five."

  "I would go," I tell her, and she gets excited. “If I lived here, that is."

  "Well, what would you say if I told you that I want to open the shop?” she says, and I tilt my head to the side. “And I want you to be my business partner." My eyebrows pinch together.

  "I’m a CPA,” I say. “Do you need help with the books?"

  "Well …" She looks down, and I can sense she is nervous. “I was hoping you would help me run it and …" Her voice goes low. “That you would handle the baking side of the business."

  I look at her shocked. “Again," I say. “I’m a CPA, not a baker."

  "That bread you had was the best bread I’ve ever had, and it’s not just me. Everyone who came and had it has called Charlotte, asking for her recipe." My mouth hangs open. “These scones would sell out in thirty minutes."

  "I’m not here for much longer,” I say. “I have a month, and then I have to be back at work. I just came to tie all the loose ends together."

  "What if you didn’t leave?” she says, and I just sit here. The thought never ever crossed my mind.

  "I have a life,” I say. “A full-time job. Friends. Sofia’s school."

  "You could have that here and be your own boss,” she says and holds up her hand. “Don’t tell me just yet. Why don’t you think about it and let me know?"

  "I just sold this house to Casey,” I say. “I have a …" I don’t continue talking because she leans over and puts her hand on mine.

  "Maybe this was meant to be,” she says, looking at me, her blue eyes crystal. “Maybe you were meant to come home and stay." Thoughts in my head spin around and around as I think of her words. "You don’t have to make a decision right now. Why don’t you meet me in a couple of days and we can look over things?” she tells me. “Then you can decide."

  She pushes the chair away from the table. “Let me pack up some scones." I get up and grab a Tupperware container and put a dozen in there, placing the lid on it but not closing it. “You have to let it have a little air, or they will get soggy,” I say, and she grabs it from me and smells them.

  "I might have to eat one in the car,” she says, turning to say bye to Sofia.

  "Thank you,” she says when I walk her to the door and outside. “For the hospitality."

  She gets in the car, and I watch her drive off. Sitting on the porch looking out at the driveway and then turning to see the flower bed, I wonder if it’s meant to be. I can almost hear Pops’ voice clear as day talking to me. “You never know until you try." The tears now come without me even knowing. "I really wish you were here, Pops,” I say, my head hanging.

  "No." I shake my head, getting up now. “It was not meant to be. None of this was meant to be,” I say more to myself. “In a month, I will say goodbye to this town just like I did six years ago." I walk back inside, and I can hear Pops laughing in the distance.

  Chapter 17

  Reed

  "You look like shit," Quinn says, coming into the barn in his workout clothes, looking at me as I get off the treadmill.

  "Right back at you,” I say, looking at his bloodshot eyes. “You are even walking hunched over.”

  "That’s what happens when you fall asleep in a rocking chair." He closes his eyes. “I should just go and nap over there." He points at the mats in the corner. “No one would know." I laugh at him.

  "Why the fuck would you fall asleep in a rocking chair?" I ask, taking a sip of water and smirk at him. “Is it because Willow kicked you out of bed?"

  "No," he hisses. “It’s because Grace is teething, and nothing would help her. Except rocking." He puts his head back and rubs his neck. “What’s your excuse?"

  "Just thinking,” I say, not sure what to say just yet. Before announcing to everyone I have a daughter, I want to get to know her. "I’m going to head out. Take a nap,” I say, walking out and then turning. “Besides, I heard dad bods are all the rage these days."

  "Fuck you,” he says, and I laugh, running back to the house and jumping in the shower. I slip on another pair of jeans and a T-shirt, grabbing the keys to the truck and walking out of the house.

  After I spoke with Ethan, the decision was already cemented in my head. I made a list of things that I had to do, and the first step was going to the bank. Walking in, I nod at a couple of people. “How may I help you?" the blonde behind the desk asks when I step up.

  “I called Clarence this morning,” I say. “He was going to have an envelope ready for me.” She turns and grabs a stack of envelopes. “It’s for Reed Barnes.” She looks through the white envelopes, finally finding mine.

  “Here it is.” She hands it to me, and I grab it, putting it in my back pocket. Walking out, I put my sunglasses on and head over to my grandfather’s barn.

  I park the truck in the driveway and walk over through the backyard, the same backyard I met my daughter in for the first time. The same backyard that I want my daughter to grow up running in, but I know that I am getting ahead of myself. I look back at the house to see if my grandmother is there, but I don’t see her. I walk past the fence and into the barn seeing Asher there with my grandfather as they go over something. They both look up at me. “Boy, you look …" I hold up my hand.

  "If one more person tells me I look like shit,” I say, shaking my head, and they both laugh.

  "If the shoe fits," my grandfather says. “You look like a man on a mission."

  "I kind of am,” I say and then look at Asher, who senses I need to speak to my grandfather alone.

  "I have to get back home to Amelia,” he says. “She is going to the doctor for her forty-second-week checkup,” he says, and my grandfather chuckles. “Also, she hates me. But I’ve been told it’ll be good once she has the baby."

  I roll my lips. “She told me she’s castrating you as soon as she has the baby." His face goes white.

  "It’s not my fault that I make big babies." He throws up his hands, turning and walking out.

  "Poor son of a bitch," my grandfather says, watching Asher get into the sheriff’s truck. "She is going to eat him alive."

  "I think he’ll be fine,” I say, then turn to look at my grandfather, who is just staring at me.

  "What’s gotten into you?" he asks.

  "I want to buy a horse,” I say, and he just looks at me.

  "You have a horse,” he says. “She’s parked in stall three."

  "I want to buy another horse,” I say, and I know he’ll have questions.<
br />
  “So pick a horse,” he says, and then I shake my head.

  “I want to pay for it,” I say, and he throws his head back and laughs.

  “You aren’t paying for shit, son,” he says. “If I take your money, you know what is going to happen?” I roll my eyes. “One, your grandmother is going to skin my hide alive." He holds up one finger and then another. “Two, your father is going to come over and rip up the check. And three, I’ll just give it back to you when I die."

  I put my head back. “Why do you always have to do the ‘when I die’ shit?” I say.

  "If you don’t want to hear it, don’t come throwing your money at me,” he says. “We just got seven new horses this morning. Quinn is going to have to take a couple to train for his therapy camp, but I think I have one in mind for you," he says, turning now and walking out of the barn, and I follow him. "Let’s see if we think alike." The sound of horses running makes me look into the enclosed fence area. We walk up to the logged fence, and I stand next to my grandfather as we look at the horses. My eyes go to one horse in particular. “Go pick," my grandfather says, and I nod at him.

  I take off my shirt and put it on the fence. “Is there a reason you are taking off your shirt?" Ethan says, coming in with Gabriel by his side. “You planning on buying her dinner, too?"

  "Still jealous about my six-pack." I wink at him and turn to walk into the area. “You’ll get yours back."

  "I still have my six-pack!” he shouts at me. “It’s just four at the moment."

  "Whatever you have to tell yourself." I clap my hands and walk over to the caramel-colored horse. She looks up at me, and I see her beautiful brown eyes. The hair on the top of her head is white, and she has a white mark between her eyes. She looks at me up and down and takes a step back from me.

  "I’m not going to hurt you." I put up my hand, and she takes a couple more steps away from me. “It’s okay." Her tail goes right and left as she waits for me. “I’m not going to hurt you." She lets me touch her before moving away, her eyes on my hand the whole time. “No one is going to hurt you, girl,” I say and take a step to her, rubbing her neck. “I have a little girl,” I say, my chest filling up so much I feel like it’s going to explode. “She’s amazing, and she’s beautiful. She’s kind, and she loves horses." The horse puffs out now as if she understands me. “And I want her to have a horse that loves her as much as I do." I make my way to the other side of the horse, seeing if she is going to do anything. “Okay, let’s take you for a ride,” I say as I mount her.

 

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