Where Forever Ends: Maplewood Falls: Book One

by Street, K.

It was dark, and Easton’s truck wasn’t in the drive when we got back.

  Jase and I had spent the entire day together. Today was everything I hadn’t realized I needed.

  I dug for my keys. “Do you want to come inside?”

  He wore a pensive expression. “I do … which is why I’m not going to.”

  “Oh.” Butterflies swooped in my belly, and suddenly, I was sixteen years old again.

  Jase tilted my chin and kissed my forehead. Then, he let go and stepped back.

  I slipped my key into the lock and opened the door. “Thanks again for today.”

  “You’re welcome.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe we can do this Not a Date thing again. It’s just good business sense.”

  “Well, if it helps your bottom line, I could be persuaded.”

  “Good night, Socks.”

  “Good night, Jase.”

  After I locked the door, I heard his heavy footsteps move away.

  My sides hurt from laughing. My cheeks ached from smiling. And, in my heart, I felt joy.

  Today was a good day.

  Twenty-Eight

  Saylor

  My feelings for Jase intensified as the days passed, and so did my guilt over having them. There wasn’t anyone I could talk to about all the stuff in my head either. I couldn’t talk to Jase about Jase. Easton would lose his shit. And my mother would probably go on about how everything happened for a reason. Then, I’d really need therapy because I’d have strangled her.

  Two weeks into January, I found myself sitting on a plush couch in Dr. Marley Gold’s office. She looked to be in her early forties with kind eyes and a gentle smile.

  “How are you today, Saylor?” She sat in a high-back armchair with her legs crossed at the knees and her hands folded in her lap.

  There wasn’t a pen or notepad in sight. Obviously, she wasn’t taking notes, and I didn’t see a recording device.

  This is real life. Not the movies. Surely, she is good at her job.

  “I’m doing okay,” I answered honestly.

  “Before we get started, I’d like to ask you a few questions. I know you answered them when you filled out your patient forms, but I want to be sure your answers are still the same.”

  “All right.”

  “How are you sleeping?”

  Jase and I had started texting again, though we hadn’t resumed our late-night phone calls.

  “All right, for the most part.”

  “Can you expand on that?”

  “Sometimes, I have a little trouble falling asleep.”

  “What do you do when that happens?”

  I shrugged. “Read. Count sheep.”

  Text Jase.

  “So, no self-medicating? No alcohol or sleeping pills?”

  “No.”

  She smiled at that. “Good. What about your diet?”

  “In all honesty, it could be better. When my emotions get the best of me, food is the last thing I want.”

  “That’s understandable. Have you experienced drastic weight loss?”

  “No. I’ve probably lost twenty pounds in the last year, but I had at least ten to spare.”

  “Your husband, Colin, died unexpectedly just over a year ago, is that right?” She crossed one leg over the other.

  “Yes.”

  “That sucks.”

  The comment was so unanticipated; I choked out a laugh. “Excuse me?”

  “Well, it does suck, doesn’t it?”

  “It totally sucks.”

  A therapist with a sense of humor. I like it.

  “Tell me about it.”

  For nearly the next hour, words flowed like a river. How lost I felt. How resentful I had been at Colin for dying. And how ridiculous I felt for admitting it aloud. I told her about how I’d felt suffocated by the memories at our house in Charlotte and how guilty selling it had made me feel. I didn’t tell her about Jase.

  Occasionally, Dr. Gold would interject with a question. Talking to her was easy. She didn’t look at me the way my family did. Her eyes were full of understanding, not pity. She didn’t see me as broken.

  When soft strains of music filled the room, alerting us that the hour was up, Dr. Gold excused herself and moved to her desk to shut off the alarm. Then, she turned to face me. “I’d like to see you next week, Saylor.”

  I liked Dr. Gold. She was personable and friendly.

  Therapy was something I needed, and I readily agreed to it without even thinking about it. “I’ll make an appointment on the way out.”

  “Good.”

  I walked toward the door, and the doctor fell in step behind me.

  Before I reached for the knob, she spoke, “Saylor, I have some homework for you.”

  “Okay.” I nervously eyed her.

  “I want you to start keeping a journal. You mentioned that you tend to bottle things up, so anytime you feel overwhelmed this week, I want you to write about it. At next week’s session, we’ll discuss it as well as your goals for therapy. Sound good?”

  Goals for therapy? Is that a thing?

  “Um … okay. I can do that. Should I bring the journal with me?”

  “Yes. I think it would be helpful.”

  “All right.”

  She smiled as she opened the door. “Great. I’ll see you next week.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Gold,” I said as I walked out the door.

  After I made an appointment for next week, I stopped in at The Brewed Book and ordered a coffee. While I waited for my vanilla latte, I perused the bookshelves along the wall. I bypassed the romance section. There had been enough angst in my life. I had no desire to read about it. I stopped in front of the crime fiction shelf and plucked a book from the midst. I was in the middle of reading the blurb when I startled at the voice behind me.

  “I thought that was you.”

  I spun around, nearly dropping the book, to find Jase standing behind me, holding a bag from the hardware store. He wore an army-green winter coat that was partially unzipped to reveal the black shirt he had on underneath, a pair of distressed dark jeans, and work boots.

  “Jase, you scared the crap out of me.” I replaced the book on the bookshelf.

  “Sorry.” He fought a smirk.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was walking by and saw you inside. I wanted to come say hi.”

  “Vanilla latte for Saylor.”

  “One sec. Let me grab that.”

  “Sure. I need to order anyway.”

  Jase followed me to the counter and ordered a black coffee.

  Once we had our drinks, he asked, “Want to take a walk?”

  “I’d love to. I just need to pick up a journal real quick.”

  He held my coffee while I went back up to the counter and picked out a journal from the basket near the register. After I paid for it, I shoved it in my bag and headed back toward Jase.

  I took the coffee from his hand, and together, we walked outside. We turned right, ambling down the sidewalk.

  “How did it go today?”

  “With Dr. Gold? It was good.” I brought the coffee to my lips and took a sip. “I like her. She’s got a sense of humor. A good quality to have in a grief counselor, if you ask me.” I bumped his arm with my shoulder after I made sure his coffee was in the other hand.

  “Do you think it will help?” he asked quietly.

  “I hope so. It’s a lot, but you get that.” My steps slowed outside an empty storefront when I noticed people inside walking through the space. Two men in suits and two women. The older woman seemed to be sizing up the place, but the younger one, who appeared to be around my age, had stars in her eyes.

  Jase tipped his head. “That’s a good sign. It’s been vacant for a while now.”

  “Any guesses on what it will be?”

  “Probably one of those specialty boutiques or something.”

  “Maybe.” A shiver ran up my spine, and Jase took notice.

  “Socks, if you’re cold, w
e can go sit inside somewhere.”

  “Actually, I’m enjoying this. The fresh air and the company.” My hands shook as I lifted my cup again.

  He stopped at the street corner, in front of a shop that sold infused olive oil and vinegar. “Hold this for a second.” He gave me his coffee and then adjusted the zipper on my coat until the little metal tab sat at the base of my throat.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m not done yet.” Jase shoved his hand into the deep pocket of his coat and produced a gray knit beanie. He slipped it on top of my head, playfully tugging it down to cover my eyes.

  He folded the thick, soft material upward, allowing me to see. Then, he kissed my forehead before relieving me of his cup. “There. That’s better.”

  I stared up at him with a sudden urge to cry.

  Tenderness filled his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s just a hat, Socks.”

  But it wasn’t. Not at all.

  In front of me stood this incredible man, and I saw him.

  Really saw him.

  Somewhere deep within me, where the shattered pieces of my heart lived, Jase had just breathed life into one of the shards.

  I stepped into him, rose onto my tiptoes, and slid my free hand up over his shoulder and to the back of his neck. I whispered the softest kiss on his cheek and spoke against his skin, “Thank you.” I dropped my heels and took a step back.

  “You’re welcome.”

  We moved to the edge of the walkway to cross the street. The busy intersection had a posted speed limit of fifteen miles an hour. Pedestrians had the right of way, but people didn’t always stop. Not even in Maplewood Falls.

  I looped my arm in the bend of Jase’s elbow and held on to his bicep as we crossed the street.

  Townspeople nodded as we strolled by. When we finished our coffees, we tossed the empty cups into the trash bin.

  Jase gently bumped his shoulder into mine. “You okay? You’ve gotten quiet.”

  “Just thinking.”

  “About?”

  “You actually.”

  He flashed me his most dazzling smile, and I rolled my eyes.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever really expressed how much I appreciate you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “Most people run away from a burning building, Jase. But not you. You’re the kind of man who runs into the flames. All the nights you’ve spent on the phone with me. Holding the line until I fell asleep …”

  “Maybe I like listening to you breathe.”

  I glanced up at him, opening my mouth to make a joke, but then I saw the look in his eyes, and I realized he wasn’t kidding.

  We turned around at the next block and headed back toward the bookstore where I had parked my SUV.

  “I’m glad I ran into you today,” I told him.

  “Me, too.”

  An easy quiet fell between us as we both became lost in our own thoughts. At my car, I dug in my bag for the keys and pushed the key fob to unlock it.

  Jase gave me a hug and opened the car door. “Say hi to Knox.”

  I sat behind the wheel, put my seat belt on and started the engine. “I will.”

  “Drive safe.”

  “You, too.”

  He closed the door and then stepped away, and I lifted my hand in a wave as I pulled away from the curb. I couldn’t help but smile when I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that his hat was still perched on my head.

  * * *

  That evening, Easton, Knox, and I were at the kitchen table, eating the mini meat loaves, mashed potatoes, and green beans I’d made for dinner.

  “I have a business proposition for you.” My brother glanced up from his plate.

  “This sounds interesting.”

  “It goes without saying that you and Knox are welcome to stay here as long as you want. However, last week, you mentioned something about getting your own place.”

  I took a sip of my ice water and set the glass back on the table. “I think it’s time. We need our own space. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for letting us stay, East.”

  East slid his clean plate out of the way and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Don’t go getting sentimental on me,” he teased. “Now, for my proposition. I bought a new property to flip. I know you’re still finding your footing, but if you’re set on moving out, I thought you might be interested in leasing it for a year.”

  I set my fork down, glancing at him. “I am absolutely interested. I’m ready to stop sharing a bathroom with a four-year-old.”

  He chuckled. “I hear that.”

  I considered his offer. “If it pans out, you wouldn’t have to worry about finding a buyer right away, and I wouldn’t have to deal with house-hunting.”

  “Exactly. And the location is great. It’s only a few miles from here. When the lease is up, if you want to keep the house, you can buy me out with a credit for what you already paid.”

  I liked the idea a little more. “Are you going to let me pick out countertops, paint colors, and the backsplash? You know, the fun stuff.”

  He grinned. “As long as you don’t go over budget and keep potential buyers in mind down the road.”

  “No psychedelic wallpaper. Got it.”

  “Mommy, I am full.” Knox shoved his plate away.

  “All right.”

  I was finished, too, so I pushed out of my chair, walked to the sink, turned on the faucet, and reached for a paper towel, wetting it in the stream of water. “Knox, bring me your plate, please.”

  He obeyed, and I set the dish on the counter and proceeded to wipe his hands and face.

  “You have a few minutes to play, and then it’s bath time.”

  “Okay.” He ran out of the room.

  I raked his plate while Easton began clearing the table.

  The dishes clacked on the counter as he set them down. “How did your appointment go today?”

  “It was good. It’s weird. I feel a little like a weight has been lifted. I can’t explain it, but talking to her helped.”

  “Are you going back?”

  I nodded and rinsed the plates before passing them to my brother to put in the dishwasher. “Next week. That isn’t going to be a problem, is it? My appointment is on Wednesday at three. I figured I would go in an hour early and skip lunch to make up for the time.”

  “That shit isn’t happening. On Wednesdays, you can work a half-day.”

  “No way, East. I’m not about to take advantage of the situation just because you’re my brother.”

  He finished loading the dishes and started the machine before focusing his attention on me. “Do you have any idea what it was like for me to find you on that damn bathroom floor after Christmas? For half a second …” His voice trailed off.

  I saw how much I had scared him. It was written all over his face. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. You’re not alone, Say. I realize you’re stubborn and quite capable of taking care of yourself. But you’re my baby sister, and like it or not, I will always look out for you.”

  The air around us grew heavy. I’d had enough emotions for one day.

  To lighten the mood, I playfully punched him on the shoulder. “You’re getting sappy in your old age, big brother.”

  He pulled me into a headlock and gave me a noogie. “And you’re still a pain in my ass, little sister.”

  “Easton.” I jabbed him in the stomach with my index finger.

  He released me, and our laughter filled the kitchen, effectively erasing the heaviness from seconds ago.

  “Don’t you think you’re a little old to be giving me noogies?”

  “Nope.” He grinned. “Humor me and work a half-day on Wednesdays. I don’t think my nephew would be thrilled if he had to be at school an hour early.”

  “All right, if you insist.” I crossed my arms. “So, when can I see the house?”

  “We start demo on Saturda
y.” A thoughtful expression took over his features. “Why don’t you call Mom and see if she wants to watch Knox on Saturday? You could help with the demolition. It would be good for you.”

  The suggestion certainly appealed to me. I didn’t watch a whole lot of television, but when I indulged, HGTV was my go-to. I loved watching walls get torn down and spaces get completely transformed. Before and after pictures were an addiction of mine.

  My lips spread into a smile. “I’d love to.”

  “Great. Just stay away from the power tools.”

  “Ha-ha.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Do you mind finishing up? I’m going to go run Knox’s bath and call Mom.”

  Easton unfastened the safety latch that secured the cabinet below the sink and grabbed the antibacterial cleaner and some paper towels. “I’ve got this.”

  He waved me off while spraying the countertop, and I went in search of my son.

  Twenty-Nine

  Saylor

  Easton and I met our parents for breakfast on Saturday morning. Afterward, Knox went home with them, and we drove to the house on Crawford Lane.

  Jase’s truck sat in the driveway next to a large dumpster when we pulled up. We’d talked on the phone since I saw him the other day at The Brewed Book, so I knew he would be here and I was glad because I had missed him.

  East killed the engine, and we got out of his truck.

  I took in the single-story red brick exterior and dark shutters. The front porch was basically a concrete slab flanked by two skinny pillars that looked out of place. The outside left something to be desired, but with a little paint, maybe a new front door, and an extension to the porch, it would be the perfect home for Knox and me.

  I shifted my gaze from the house to my brother. “Tell me about the inside.”

  “Four bedrooms, two bathrooms, eighteen hundred square feet. The lot is just over a half-acre.”

  Before East turned the knob to walk inside, I asked, “Is the backyard fenced in?”

  “Not yet, but it’s a priority, and it’s already factored into the budget.”

  He stepped inside, and I followed behind him.

  The front door opened directly into the living room, and beyond that was the eat-in kitchen. A partial wall separated the two rooms, restricting the flow.