All Autumn

by Sandra Owens

  “You’ve changed since Brian left you and not for the good. If this is how you’re going to be, you can leave now.”

  “First, I left Brian. Second, I think going now is a good idea. If you want to put on a pretty dress, do something with your hair, and go out tomorrow for a nice mother-daughter lunch, call me. If you pick up the phone in the future to ask me to come over for more of this, please don’t. I won’t do it.”

  I took my wineglass to the kitchen, washed it, put it away, then picked up my purse and walked out. She didn’t try to stop me. My heart hurt, and the love I had for my mother in it wanted to go back inside and take back everything I had said. But I made my feet keep walking. At some point I had to stop letting her control me like a puppet, and tonight seemed to be that point.

  As soon as I got home, I’d call Connor, and if it wasn’t too late, maybe he’d come over, even if it was just to hold me. Beau greeted me at the door, grinning like a fool at the sight of me. “Hey, boy. Miss me?”

  He barked a yes!

  My phone buzzed, and I smiled. I wouldn’t have to call Connor because he was calling me. It wasn’t him, though; it was my father. I almost didn’t answer it. Dealing with one screwed-up parent in a night was enough. But he rarely called me, and I couldn’t resist the chance to talk to him.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “What’s this about you upsetting your mother?”

  And the drama queen strikes again. I bet I wasn’t backed out of the driveway before she was on the phone with him. You’d think he could at least ask me how I was before jumping right in on me. I should have gone with my first instinct and not answered the phone.

  “So you’re going to take her side without even hearing mine?” I sat on the sofa and propped my feet on the edge of the coffee table. Even though he mostly couldn’t live with her, he always had her back, which was one reason I believed he loved her in his own warped way. It would be nice once in a while to have him at my back, but that had never happened.

  “You said some mean things to her, Autumn. That was uncalled for.”

  “What about me, Dad? Don’t I get to have a life without being dragged into the middle of my parents’ mess every time I turn around? It’s sad and depressing, and I just can’t do it anymore.”

  “Your mother is fragile. You know that, which is why I don’t understand why you’d want to upset her.”

  He hadn’t heard a word I said. Either that or he really didn’t care what their fights and their messed-up parenting skills did to me. “If she’s so fragile, then why do you treat her the way you do? This isn’t on me, Dad, and I’m not going to let you blame me for her misery. That’s all on you.”

  There was a long silence, and then he said, “What’s gotten into you, Autumn?”

  What indeed? I lowered my feet to the floor, put my phone on speaker before setting it on the coffee table, then leaned forward and rested elbows on my knees. I was hurting, and my father didn’t care.

  “Why is it my responsibility to be Mom’s caretaker?” I whispered. If she was sick, actually ill, I’d be there for her around the clock, but I couldn’t play their games anymore.

  “Speak up. You’re mumbling.”

  I sat up, straightening my spine. “I said if you’re so worried about her, then act like her husband for a change.” Not wanting to hear how he’d respond to that, I disconnected.

  For a good hour I sat with only the dim light of the lamp I’d turned on when I’d come home, staring at the wall in front of me. I’d thought my parents loved me, but I wasn’t even sure about that anymore. Some of my earliest memories were of a happy home, a loving mother and father. But around the first or second grade things changed. The fights started, and neither of my parents tried to shield me from their anger at each other. Even at a young age I had been put in the middle, both of them expecting me to choose sides. That was one reason I’d spent so much time at Jenn’s house, and I’d always love her parents for treating me like another daughter.

  A sob escaped, and I angrily brushed away the tears. I couldn’t change the past, and my tears were meaningless. Beau nudged his nose between my legs, his worried eyes focused on me.

  “Am I a bad daughter, Beau?” It felt like I was. A part of me ached to call my dad and tell him I hadn’t meant anything I’d said. Another part wanted to call my mother and take back all the spiteful words I’d spouted. Then there was the angry child in me that stomped her feet, crossed her arms, and refused to do either of those things.

  I did call Connor, though.

  24

  ~ Connor ~

  I’d just turned into my driveway, a three-minute drive from Adam’s, when my Bluetooth came on, Autumn’s name coming up.

  “Hey, beautiful.” I hoped she was calling to ask me to come over, even if it was late.

  “Hey.”

  That wasn’t her happy voice. “Are you okay?”

  “No.”

  “I’m on the way over.”

  “You don’t have to. It’s late.”

  “See you in twenty.” I cut off our connection before she could protest. After I went into my house to retrieve something, I headed to her place, making one stop at an all-night convenience store.

  Autumn opened her door, and I could tell right away that she wasn’t okay. Her smile seemed forced, and her eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Since I knew she’d been to visit her mother, I added another black mark against Melinda Archer for making my girl cry.

  “Brought you something.” I held out the bottle of wine in one hand that I’d taken from home, and in the other was the gallon of chocolate fudge ice cream I’d bought on the way over.

  “Pity-party food and drink. Awesome.”

  “So what are we pitying?” As I followed her into the kitchen, my gaze strayed to her ass. The girl wore jeans very well.

  “Me.” She glanced over her shoulder, catching me. “Stop checking out my butt.”

  “I’m a man. It’s what we do. And I have to say that yours is perfection, so it’s not my fault that I can’t stop looking. It’s yours.”

  “Have to tell you, not fond of the men checking out women’s butts thing.”

  I gave my forehead a mental slap. Idiot. I’d just reminded her of Brian. “I’m sorry, Autumn.” I set the wine and ice cream on the counter, then moved in front of her. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  She slipped her hands into mine. “No, it’s okay. I actually like that you appreciate my butt. It’s just been a bad night, and I’m touchy right now.”

  “I gather your visit with your mom didn’t go well?”

  “You could say that.” She let go of my hands, fished a wine opener out of a drawer, and handed it to me.

  I opened the bottle and filled our glasses while she grabbed two spoons, then took them and the ice cream to her kitchen island. After we’d settled on the bar stools, I said, “How does this work? We just eat right out of the carton?” I grinned at her eye roll. “Seriously, this is only my second pity party, and I want to get it right.” I’d pity-partied with her every day of the first week after she and Brian had split, but I didn’t think she remembered much of that time.

  “Yes, Connor, that’s how we do it.”

  We finished our glass of wine and made a sizable dent in the ice cream while she told me what had happened. I didn’t say anything as I listened, but I was getting angrier by the minute. What sorry excuses for parents her mother and father were. It was hard to relate to that because mine had been pretty awesome.

  Sure, Adam and I got into trouble and were punished, but the punishment always fit the crime. We never doubted they loved us, and they never put us in the middle of any arguments between them. Not that I remember them fighting much. If they had, they did it out of our sight and hearing.

  It seemed to me that her parents were determined to suck the life out of their daughter. Autumn had always been defensive of her parents, especially her mother, so I was going to have to carefully choose my words. But I was prou
d of her for finally standing up to her mother. It was about time.

  “I told my mother not to call me unless she wanted to dress up and have lunch with me while wearing a smile on her face.”

  I paused with a spoon loaded with ice cream halfway to my mouth. “Do you mean that?” Was Autumn finally going to remove herself from a toxic situation? God, I hoped so.

  “Yeah, but… Well, I’ve never told anyone this before, but she’s hinted that she’ll do something, you know, like swallow a bottle of pills or sit in her car in the garage with the motor running.” She looked at me with the saddest eyes I’d ever seen. “What if someday I refuse to come when she calls and she follows through on her threats? I’d never be able to forgive myself for that.”

  Hell. I had no idea what the right thing to say here was. Although I thought Melinda’s saying things like that was just another way of controlling Autumn and she had no intention of killing herself, the woman was unpredictable.

  “Do you really see her not sticking around, if for no other reason than to torment you and your father?”

  Autumn shrugged. “Not really, which is why I’m not too worried. On the other hand, I can see her doing that simply to punish Dad or even me.”

  I set my spoon down. “I get what you’re saying about feeling guilty if something like that ever happened, but Autumn, you’re not responsible for her or her actions. Anything stupid she might do is on her, not you.”

  “I know that in theory, but I’d still never forgive myself. It gets even better. As soon as I left, she called my dad, and then he called me. The gist of the conversation was that I’m an awful daughter to treat my mother that way.”

  “What I’d like to know is how you managed to become an adult with her act together after growing up in that house?” I took her spoon out of her hand, sticking it into the ice cream. “I’m so angry right now for you that it’s a good thing your parents aren’t here, or they’d get an earful.”

  I tugged on her hands, pulling her off the stool until she was standing between my legs. “As much as I want to tell you to cut them out of your life unless and until they start treating you right, I won’t. How you go forward with them is your decision, but I hope you really mean that you’re going to stand your ground with your mother. Who knows, that might be exactly what she needs to wake up and see what she’s doing to you. As for your father, to hell with him. He hasn’t earned the right to say those things to you, and furthermore, he’s dead wrong.”

  “Thanks for that and for being here, Connor. You make a pretty good pity-party partner.” She leaned into me, resting her face on my chest.

  “Careful, you’re starting to sound like Mary with all the alliterations.”

  She laughed. “God help me, I did.”

  “That aside, anytime you need a pity partner, I’m your man. I’ve got the hang of it now. Ice cream, wine, and a pair of good listening ears.”

  “Just so you know, the ice cream was great, but cake is a better pity food. In my opinion, anyway.”

  “Duly noted.” I lowered my chin, resting it on her head. This close to me, I could smell her scent, feel the softness of her body against mine—especially her breasts pressing into my chest—and that was about all it took to get aroused. I wanted her so badly that it hurt, but above all else, she was my friend. And that was what she needed right now, a friend.

  “Can one divorce their parents?”

  I smiled into her hair. “I think it’s been done.” Before she felt what was going on below my belt against her belly, I put my hands on her waist, picked her up, and set her a few feet away. “Why don’t you go change into those cute little puppy pants you had on the other night, and I’ll find us a movie to watch. Is it a pity-party rule that it has to be a sappy one?”

  “Most definitely, but it’s late. You’re probably wishing you were home, asleep in your bed.”

  “I’m right where I want to be. Go.” Although we weren’t doing what I wanted, and for sure it wasn’t sleeping, I was beginning to wonder if Autumn and I would ever manage to get naked under the sheets together. Over a year now I’d been in a holding pattern, waiting for her and the right moment. I was starting to feel like a monk, and my man parts were extremely unhappy with me.

  “Connor?” she said, pausing at the entrance to her hallway.

  “Yeah?”

  “Tonight didn’t go like I wanted it to. The first thing I was going to tell you when you came over was that I don’t feel weird about kissing you. Or anything else we might do.” Her cheeks blushed pink. “Are going to do.”

  “You can’t begin to imagine how happy I am to hear that.” And that pretty smile she gave me before she disappeared down the hallway felt like an arrow had zinged my heart. A little arrow, but one all the same.

  I wasn’t falling for her exactly. Not like in love or anything, because I don’t and won’t do love, but I was liking her a whole lot in a more than “just a friend I was hopefully going to have sex with” kind of way. That was a mouthful, not to mention heavy on my mind. I just hoped to hell Autumn and I knew what we were doing.

  25

  ~ Autumn ~

  After putting it off for a day, I arrived at the Blue Ridge Valley News with Beau for his interview. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that my dog had an interview. It had been tempting to blow it off altogether, but I’d be hounded out of town if I hadn’t shown up with my dog, so here we were. I told Beau to sit, which he did, I’m happy to say—he didn’t always obey my commands—then I stepped out of view of the camera Naomi was snapping pictures with.

  As soon as we left here, I planned to call Connor and apologize. He’d found Pretty Woman, one of my favorite old movies, playing on a cable channel. I’d snuggled up to him to watch it and had promptly fallen asleep. At some point he’d carried me to bed, tucked me in, and then let himself out. I had to be the worst date in the world.

  “Ask him the questions we wrote up,” Naomi said to Gloria as she knelt in front of Beau to get a close-up face shot. Naomi, somewhere in her seventies, had owned the gossip rag forever, since before I was born, anyway.

  Gloria pulled over a metal chair, placing it in front of Beau, then sat. She opened a steno pad, where I assumed the questions were listed, glanced at it, and then said, “Were you afraid of the bear, Sam?”

  I stared at her in disbelief. Did she actually think Beau was going to answer? His butt on the floor, a grin on his face, and his feathery tail sweeping across the wood, he barked, happy to be meeting a new friend. Beau wasn’t choosy. He considered everyone his friend, even gossipy reporters.

  “That was a no,” I drily said. “And his name is Beau or Beauregard if you prefer.” I watched her write no on her pad.

  “Did you see the little cubs? Baby bears are so cute.”

  Beau barked twice.

  “That was a yes.” This was getting ridiculous, but what the heck. Beau was having fun.

  Gloria clapped her hands. “I get it. One bark for no and two for yes.”

  Sure, why not? It was really hard not to roll my eyes, but I settled for giving her an affirmative nod instead.

  “Have you heard there might be a movie about you?”

  Two barks.

  “We’ve decided on the perfect title. Sam Saves the Senator’s Sister. Don’t you just love that?”

  One bark.

  Gloria looked at me with alarm. “He doesn’t like the title?”

  “Apparently not.” And my dog was freaking me out. Like, he really couldn’t understand a word she was saying, right? “He’s fond of his name, which is Beau. How about Brave Beau Battles a Bear?” Any minute now my eyes were going to start rolling around in my head without my permission.

  Beau barked twice.

  She glanced at Naomi—who was still busy circling Beau, taking pictures—getting a nod. “Okay, that could work, but I’ll have to run it by Mary and the movie committee.”

  There was a movie committee now? This was getting enti
rely out of hand. “You do that.” I stood, got Beau’s leash, and clipped it onto his collar. “Well, it’s been fun, but Beau and I have another appointment.” At the crazy farm.

  “Oh, before you go, I need to tell you our exciting news,” Naomi said. “Senator Blanton has agreed to ride in the parade. We’ve arranged for two convertibles. The Blue Ridge Valley High School band will lead the way with the cars following. The senator, you, and Sam . . . er, maybe Beau now, depending on approval from the committee, will be in the first car. Connor will be in the second one.”

  By himself? “No.”

  Both women frowned. “What do you mean no?” Gloria said.

  “Um, no as in no? Beau and I will ride with Connor in the second car.” They were lucky I’d even agreed to participate in this stupid parade. Senator Blanton wasn’t getting to dictate the seating arrangements. And why was he coming to Blue Ridge Valley for this silliness, anyway?

  Naomi pulled Gloria off to the corner. They whispered among themselves for a minute, then both turned and looked at me, way too pleased expressions on their faces for my liking.

  “What?” I said, although I dreaded their answer.

  “He’s a senator, Autumn,” Naomi said as if I didn’t already know that. “He can do great things for our town. He specifically asked that you ride in his car. This parade is for Sam, so we would think you’d want him to have a place of honor. You’re being unreasonable about this, but we’ll let Beau or Sam, whichever name the committee decides on, ride with Connor.” They each smiled as if I’d be pleased with that solution.

  “Again, no.” And why was the senator requesting that I ride with him? “Either figure out how to get the senator, Connor, me, and Beau in the same car, or it’s Connor, me, and Beau together. Give the senator the lead car for all I care.”