by Sydney Logan
“—staring at a wall of paint samples.” Lucas grinned at me. “You stood there forever, comparing the different shades of blue.”
I laughed at the memory. “There was a lot of blue. Mr. Johnson finally had mercy on me.”
“Mr. Johnson rarely moves away from the cash register. He had to help you because I was too chicken to do it myself.”
My forehead creased with confusion. “You were? Why?”
“You were beautiful, and I was so intimidated.”
Me? Intimidating?
I’d nearly forgotten Monica was even in the room, but I could feel her eyes on us, watching our exchange like a hawk. Lucas and I shared a smile before I turned my attention back to my friend.
“So, that’s how we met,” I said.
Monica grinned just as her cell vibrated on the table. She checked the screen, and her smile grew.
“Do you guys mind if I take this?”
Lucas rose to his feet. “Not at all. I should be heading home anyway.”
They said their goodnights, and Monica headed to the living room while I offered to walk Lucas to his car.
“You don’t have to go.”
Taking my hand, he helped me down the steps. The storms had finally ended, but everything was still wet and smelled of rain.
“I think I should. You two haven’t seen each other since August. I need to call my parents, anyway. Mom goes ballistic if I go more than three days without calling home.”
Laughing softly, I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” Lucas murmured.
We kissed goodnight, and as I made my way back onto the porch, I heard the creaking of the swing. Monica was there, fiddling with her cell phone.
“Is there a reason I only have one bar of service?”
Laughing, I sat next to her. “You’re in the mountains, Monica. Be thankful you have any service at all.”
She sighed disapprovingly as I began to push.
“It’s peaceful here,” Monica murmured.
“It is.”
I looked toward the mountainside. It was too dark to see them now, but the trees were littered with splashes of red, orange, and gold. The leaves were already beginning to fall, and it wouldn’t be long before all was left was a mess to rake and plenty of bare trees.
“You’re happy,” Monica noted softly. “I didn’t expect that.”
I smiled.
“Don’t get me wrong—I’m thrilled you seem so content. You just never spoke too highly of Sycamore Falls, so I didn’t understand your desire to move back. I completely understood wanting to leave Memphis, but I never expected you to move back to your hometown.”
“What’s that expression? You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone?”
“Hmm.”
We talked for a while about our careers. Monica was teaching four classes this semester, and the phone call she’d received was from a professor she’d been dating since August. Her big brown eyes sparkled while she spoke of him, and I smiled warmly. I’d never seen Monica in love, and it was a joy to see.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever sat on a porch swing,” she said.
“Isn’t it amazing? It was a gift from Lucas.”
“That boy’s in love with you, Sarah.”
I sighed happily.
“I know. I love him, too.”
“Have you told him?”
“Yes.”
Monica smiled. “Good for you. I like him a lot. He’s good for you. He’s good to you. That’s something you’ve needed for a very long time.”
“He’s really wonderful. He’s seen me at my absolute worst, and he still loves me.”
Monica listened intently while I told her about the panic attacks that still plagued me from time to time, and how Lucas had helped me through them.
“How much have you told him about what happened in Memphis?”
“I’ve told him everything.”
She seemed surprised. “Really? And how did he take it?”
“He’s still here.” It was still a little amazing to me—he’d so willingly accept me—flaws and all.
“I saw the way he was looking at you, Sarah. I don’t think that man is going anywhere.”
The rhythmic rocking of the swing was quickly lulling me to sleep. When I caught Monica stifling a yawn, I took it as a sign it was time for bed.
“I’m taking you hiking tomorrow,” I told her as we walked back inside. I locked the door before leading her up the stairs. “You should bring your camera.”
“You know, Memphis has trees,” she teased as she opened the door to the spare bedroom.
“Not like these.”
Rolling her eyes, Monica smiled and said goodnight.
Chapter 18
“The trail is so wet,” Monica grumbled as we hiked along the path leading to Sycamore Falls. “Did you even bring a first-aid kit? From what I can recall, there isn’t a hospital for miles.”
“Yes, I have a first-aid kit. Besides, if you’ll shut up for a second, you’ll notice we can already hear the falls. It’s not like we’re hiking up Mount Everest.”
“Might as well be.”
“Monica, we can still see the car.”
She’d done nothing but complain since we’d left the house. Had she always been this negative?
“I’ve never understood the appeal of hiking, which is why I left my camera back at the house. Honestly, it’s just woods and trees.”
“Nature can be a beautiful thing,” I said, pointing at a maple tree. Yesterday’s rain was still glistening on the golden leaves, and I reached for the camera hanging around my neck. Adjusting the zoom, I started snapping pictures.
“Did you seriously just take a picture of a wet leaf?”
I shot her a glare. Had she always been this cranky? Monica had been my friend for nearly ten years. Surely, I would have noticed if she’d been this negative all the time. Had she really changed that much over the past few months? Or, had she always been this way, and I’d just been too blinded by my own negativity to notice?
Misery loves company, after all.
“Maybe we should just go back to the house.”
“No, I really want to see the waterfall,” she said, her voice soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I’m just a city girl. If it isn’t covered in concrete, I’m not sure how to walk on it, you know?”
Laughing lightly, I linked my arm through hers.
“It’s just like with anything else. You take one step at a time and hope for the best.”
Grinning at me, she kept quiet as I led her closer to the falls. We were surrounded by the beautiful colors of fall, but I didn’t touch my camera. I’d come back later, and I’d bring a companion who would actually enjoy the scenery.
I thought of Lucas, and I smiled.
Going to sleep without him had been hard; waking up without him had been even harder. Unless we planned on living in sin, being apart was something we’d have to get used to.
Living in sin didn’t sound so bad to me.
The idea made me laugh out loud.
“What’s funny?”
“I was just envisioning the scandal if Lucas and I moved in together.”
“Oh, I can just imagine,” Monica muttered. “I remember the reaction when a black woman stood by your side at your grandmother’s funeral.”
I winced at the memory.
“No, it’s okay. I get it. This is a small conservative town with zero minorities. I was going to stick out like a sore thumb, and I understood that. No one was rude to me. People smiled politely and then tried not to stare. Most failed, but it was fine.”
I laughed, and she squeezed my arm affectionately.
“Besides, I wasn’t here for them. I was here for you, and I’d do it again.”
This was the Monica I remembered.
“Now, show me a waterfall before I stumble over this mountain and plummet to my
death.”
“You think this is a mountain? This is just a hill, Moni.”
Her eyes widened in alarm as I took her by the arm, leading her through the trees and toward the rushing sound of the falls.
“That is a mountain.
The falls were surrounded by the same majestic sycamores, which always hugged the water, but today, they were a mosaic of autumn colors. Splashes of green, gold, crimson, and orange flooded the ridge while the waterfalls spilled into the river below. Thanks to the heavy rains, the river was raging as it cut a path through the mountainside.
“Holy crap.”
I smiled and lifted the strap over my head.
“Would you like to borrow my camera?” I asked sweetly.
“How many trick-or-treaters does that make?” Lucas asked, looking up from his laptop. He’d been online most of the evening, claiming he was doing research for an upcoming lesson on the Civil War.
I suspected otherwise.
“Thirty-three!” Monica moaned, kicking the door closed. I’d put her in charge of handing out candy while I finished loading the dishwasher. She’d been greeting visitors for exactly ten minutes and had done nothing but gripe the entire time.
Actually, she’d done nothing but complain all week.
Thank goodness, it was her last night in Sycamore Falls.
I wasn’t sure which one of us was happier about it.
We’d spent the week doing nothing—which was fine with me—but Monica wasn’t used to so much downtime. In the city, there was plenty to keep you busy when school was out of session. In Sycamore Falls, not so much. I’d tried to keep her entertained, but Monica wasn’t a reader and television bored her to tears.
We’d had some fun. Monica had met Aubrey and her family, and she’d gotten to know Lucas a little better. That was the real bright spot of our time together—Monica’s absolute acceptance of him. It wasn’t necessary, but her approval was nice and made our visit a little more enjoyable.
Someone knocked, and Monica glared at the door.
Lucas chuckled. “Thirty-four.”
“You’re going to scare the kids away,” I said, snatching the candy out of her hands. Reaching into the bowl, I hastily pulled out a candy bar. “Here. Maybe chocolate will get you in the Halloween spirit.”
Reaching for the door, I smiled brightly when I saw two giant zombies standing on my porch.
“You know, I think there might be an age limit on this trick-or-treating thing.”
“Nope, we asked the sheriff,” Howie said.
Matt was by his side, grinning brightly. “He made us promise to behave ourselves.”
“Well, you guys look great.”
Deciding this would be the perfect way to end my Halloween, I poured what was left of the candy into each of their bags. Hopefully, the sugar rush would subside by Monday morning when they were back in my class.
“Thirty-five,” I announced after closing the door and turning off the porch light. “That was Howie and Matt.”
Monica’s eyes never left her phone. “They had pretty deep voices for kids.”
“They’re seniors,” Lucas explained.
Closing his laptop, he smiled up at me as I placed the empty bowl on the table. I climbed into his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“You’ve been spending an awful lot of time on the Internet lately. I bet you’re on some dating website, looking for the perfect woman.”
Monica snorted.
“No need,” Lucas said sweetly. “I’ve already found her.”
I hummed and nuzzled his neck.
“Very smooth,” Monica muttered. “I was just looking at the online edition of the Sycamore Falls Tribune. Does your newspaper really only come out once a week?”
Lucas laughed. “We don’t have too many scandals.”
“Well, you seem to have at least one.” Monica scrolled through her phone. “Did you actually have a student dismissed from the football team because he’s gay?”
I froze.
Lucas hurriedly reached for his laptop and began to type. “Where did you see that?”
“Sports section—in the comments.”
My eyes quickly scanned the computer screen. With over fifty replies, the comment wasn’t hard to spot.
Rumor has it our former star QB was tossed off the team because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself in the locker room.
The comment was signed with a generic username.
“If that’s true, I know a kickass attorney who’d love to get his hands on that case,” Monica said.
This can’t be happening.
“Patrick?” Lucas asked softly.
“I don’t know.”
“Who’s Patrick?” Monica’s voice was a full octave higher. It was the most excited I’d seen her all week. “Is he the boyfriend?”
“He is definitely not the boyfriend.”
Lucas held me a little tighter and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek.
“I’ll tell her,” he offered softly, and I nodded.
With trembling fingers, I scrolled through the comments—some in support of Matt and some staunchly against—while Lucas explained the entire situation to Monica. I felt a little guilty for divulging Matt’s story, but Monica lived eight hours away. Who was she going to tell?
“And he confessed this to you?” Monica asked.
“To Sarah.”
I could feel her eyes on me as I tried to focus on the screen. Tears blurred my vision, making it impossible. I finally lifted my head, and her brown eyes were anxious and full of worry.
“What is it about you that makes tortured young men bare their souls?”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Not yet.”
“Watch it, Monica.” Lucas’s voice was dark and threatening as his arms tightened around me.
Monica’s head swiveled in his direction.
“Don’t tell me to watch it. You have no idea what she went through!”
“I have some idea.”
“Really?” Monica cocked her head to the side. “Do you know how she cried for weeks after Josh was killed? Do you know her panic attacks were so severe that monster doses of anti-anxiety meds did nothing to calm her down? She didn’t eat. She certainly didn’t sleep. She finally ate a Twinkie after I threatened to hospitalize her.”
To this day, the scent of a Twinkie made me vomit.
“That’s enough,” Lucas told her, his voice surprisingly gentle when compared to the venom in his tone. Tears were trickling down my face as he held me close.
“Do you know what an asshole her ex-boyfriend was and how he ‘just couldn’t deal’ with her emotional outbursts?” Monica’s voice was a little softer now. “Ryan—the man who supposedly loved her? Who’d told her he wanted to marry her?”
“I’m not Ryan.”
“You’d better not be.”
“Stop it, Monica.” My voice was loud and strong, despite my tears.
A deathly silence fell over the room, giving me the chance to wipe my eyes and catch my breath. With the sweetest of touches, Lucas brushed his thumb across my wet cheeks.
“I should go pack,” Monica whispered.
Without another word, she grabbed her cell and headed up the staircase.
The morning air was cold against my skin, and I reached blindly for him, eager to feel the warmth of his arms around me. My eyes snapped open when I realized his side of the bed was empty.
Monica hadn’t returned to the kitchen last night, but Lucas had still insisted on spending the night with me. He was so protective, and while it warmed my heart, it was also something I wasn’t accustomed to. I’d fought my own battles for so long. Granted, I might fall apart later, once I was tucked safely back in the sanctuary of my apartment, but I’d always tried to defend myself.
I never imagined I’d need to defend myself against Monica.
I understood her concerns. She’d watched helplessly while I plunged into a deep depression of whic
h I was still trying to claw myself out. Yes, I’d left some minor details out of my confession to Lucas, but it wasn’t a chapter in my life I wished to revisit, and I knew the graphic details of my grief would only upset him.
There was still so much about that time I just couldn’t recall. I don’t remember Moni threatening to take me the hospital, but I do remember the Twinkie. I remember the texture. I remember the taste. I remember the smell.
My stomach lurched, and I took a steadying breath to control the bile bubbling in my throat.
I was suddenly distracted by the sounds of muffled voices coming from downstairs. Pulling the blanket around me, I climbed out of bed and quietly opened the bedroom door. The first thing I noticed was the spare bedroom. The door was open, and the bed was already made. Monica’s suitcase was resting on top of the blanket.
Their voices became a little louder as I walked quietly toward the staircase, but there was no yelling. They were both calm and speaking in hushed tones. I didn’t hear my name, but there was no doubt I was the topic of conversation.
“You hurt her.”
“Lucas, you know that wasn’t my intention.”
Wrapping the blanket tighter around me, I sank down onto the top step.
“It doesn’t matter if it was your intention. You were unnecessarily cruel last night.”
“I was honest. You weren’t there. You couldn’t possibly understand . . .”
“This isn’t Memphis, Monica.”
“You’re right, it’s worse. This is a small town, and people in small towns don’t handle change well. I pray this doesn’t turn violent, but if it does, Sarah will get caught in the crossfire. Again.”
“I won’t let that happen.”
Deciding I’d eavesdropped long enough, I left the blanket at the top of the stairs and slowly made my way down to the kitchen. The two of them were sitting around the table, and their heads snapped up when they heard me approach.
“Lucas, I’d like to speak with Monica alone.”
He glanced between the two of us before finally nodding. Rising from his seat, he walked toward me and leaned down, kissing me softly on the forehead.
“I’ll be outside.”
I waited until he was out on the porch before taking a seat next to her. She was watching me closely, probably trying to determine if I was hurt or just simply pissed.
