by Toler, B N
“No,” she said abruptly, stopping me. “We already said goodbye earlier while you two were inside.” The light breeze from a storm that had been looming caught a lock of her hair. I reached up and gently pushed it behind her ear.
She closed her eyes for a moment. “Looks like it’s about to rain.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, hating how painful the small talk was. “I know I’ve been the one constantly reminding us this was going to end, but knowing this is really it…”
“I know.”
My heart pounded in my chest. I didn’t know what to say or how to say it. I didn’t know how to say goodbye in such a way she’d never come back, but that’s what I needed to do. Her eyes swam with tears as she stared up at me, her body stiff, as if braced for me to send her away.
Taking her face in my hands, I pressed a kiss to her mouth. “You know, if we hadn’t agreed to this just being a short summer fling, I’m not sure I would’ve dated you.” I lied. “We’re really nothing alike.”
She swallowed back the tears threatening to spill and bobbed her head. My own eyes burned, and my chest ached like holy hell. I knew letting her go would be awful.
“I’m grateful for this summer,” she admitted as she wiped her cheek.
Inhaling, I steeled myself and did what I’d been dreading for the last week. “Well, we said for the summer…and that’s what we did. Now…it’s over.” I fixed my stern gaze on her so she would know I was serious. “I mean it. It’s really over. If you care about me at all, please don’t come back, Emalee.”
She sniffled on a quiet sob. “I love you more than anything, Cole. I hope you know that.”
I hated that moment. I hated myself. I hated her father. I hated my life. I hated that the only woman I had ever loved was leaving. Worse, I was sending her away believing I didn’t want her to ever return.
Headlights appeared in the distance announcing Betty’s arrival to retrieve her daughter.
In a flash, Emalee threw her arms around me and pressed a hard kiss to my mouth. Then, as she backed away, her cheeks slick with tears, the wind picking up, making her hair float, she said, “I hope you can find some peace and happiness, Cole Kepner. I want that for you more than anything. You deserve it.”
Our eyes remained locked until her mother pulled up, then without another word, Emalee climbed in the car and they were gone. The sky opened up, and the storm came and went as I stood in our driveway for over an hour, unmoving, lying to myself, telling myself over and over that I’d done the right thing.
My father had arranged for me to perform at a few fall festivals in the region, so he and I were driving back to Texas, while my mother flew straight home. The morning we left, my parents sat me down for the talk, even though Mama had already told me they were getting divorced. She cried, and he hung his head as he rested his elbows on his knees and kept his hands clasped together. Of course, they both repeatedly told me it wasn’t my fault; they still loved me.
“Kansas really did a number on us, eh?” I tried to joke only earning half-hearted smiles.
Mama tilted her head slightly. “I’m going to sell the house.”
I gaped at her. “Why? You love this house?”
She shook her head as if willing away the sentimentality she’d once harbored for her beloved childhood home. “Sometimes holding on keeps us from moving forward.” Her mouth quirked up in a sad smile as she glanced around the room.
I was already so numb from saying goodbye to Cole and the Kepners, the reality of my parent’s divorce and selling Nana’s house was too much to process, and I felt myself shut down.
Mama cleared her throat. “We’ve also discussed something else, Emalee.” She blinked nervously as her gaze darted from me to my father as he sat up and leaned back before meeting my gaze again and saying, “We think you should use a stage name.”
I scrunched my brows, a little thrown. Neither of them had ever mentioned it before, and it seemed odd that they would come up with it all of a sudden.
“Why?”
Mama pressed on a smile as if it was no big deal. “Something flashy.” She raised her hands, wiggling her fingers.
Emalee wasn’t the flashiest of names, I couldn’t disagree with that. “Alyssa?” I suggested.
Mama bobbed her head a few times. “That sounds very…pop modern.”
I smiled at her description. “Alyssa Myers.” I said.
My father nodded. “That’ll work. When we get back to Texas, you’ll meet your new manager.”
I scowled, wondering what in the world was going on. My father was my manager. He wasn’t my favorite person at the moment, but I couldn’t believe he’d just hand my dreams over to someone else.
“We agreed it’s best for your career to have someone more objective manage the day-to-day from here on out,” Mama explained. She rested a hand on my leg. “Everything else is the same. The tour…all of it. Just a new name and a new manager.”
And my parents’ marriage ending. That was all. Not much change.
The window was cool against my forehead as I exhaled and watched my breath fog the glass, proof that I was actually breathing. Who knew a broken heart could feel so suffocating? Somewhere amidst all the heartache and pain, I tried to find the beauty in it. Pain can be inspiring, right? That’s what I’d heard. I’d sang songs about heart break; about the woes and trials of love lost, but I’d never felt it before. Until now.
Until Cole.
I pulled my feet up and hugged my legs to me, resting my chin on my knee. Outside, the Kansas fields passed by in a blur of tilled pastures. Squeezing my eyes shut, I begged God to take the hurt away.
Make me forget him. Please make him vanish from my mind.
“Emalee,” my father said in the softest version of his baritone voice he could.
“Please leave me alone,” I muttered as I shifted the last fraction of an inch away from him I could. There was only so much distance I could put between us in the front seat of the car.
He gave my arm a gentle squeeze and I jerked away. My neck ached, but I refused to look at him. Constance’s guitar case wedged between my legs in front of me, and I traced the worn There’s No Place Like Kansas bumper sticker with my finger, seeking comfort in the memory of the amazing woman who’d affixed it to the case.
“This will pass. I promise,” he tried again.
I ignored him, but he went on, seemingly undeterred by my rejection. My father never was the kind of man to just let things lie. He would brow beat a person until they accepted his notions whole heartedly.
“That boy is simple, Emalee. He’s going nowhere.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten before opening them again. When I did, green eyes sparkling above a bright smile with perfect teeth, save for the one that stuck out just a little on the lower left, flashed before me. Somewhere in the rush of the Kansas land passing by I saw a hundred beautiful memories dancing.
I saw him.
I saw Cole.
And he was anything but simple.
And I’d love him until the day I died, no matter what my father said.
Simple as that.
Since the moment we’d crossed the county line, I’d been slammed with memory after memory, each as beautiful as they were painful. A lifetime ago I’d stared out another car window, watching the same tilled Kansas fields pass by in a blur. The onslaught continued as we climbed the familiar steps and entered the house I’d thought I’d never step foot in again.
“The maid came yesterday and cleaned top to bottom,” Connie said after greeting us.
“I had our things boxed up and shipped to us,” Pepper explained in response to Connie’s questioning glance at our small carry-on bags. “Should be here in a few days.” In our haste to get to my mother’s side as quickly as possible, we’d only packed the necessities. It turned out that rushing to Kansas hadn’t actually been necessary because my mother wasn’t even there. Her absence only added to my frustration and anxiety.
; Connie nodded in understanding then continued, “I had her make up all the beds; I wasn’t sure which bedroom you’d want to sleep in.”
“That was nice, thank you.” I said with a smile. Pepper immediately began asking questions about the Wi-Fi password, and what the kitchen was stocked with, but I barely heard their conversation as I stood transfixed, my feet seeming to have grown roots, planting me firmly to the wood floor just by the front door.
Pepper buzzed around me, plugging in our phones and yanking random things out of bags as she searched for something when she suddenly stopped and whipped her gaze to me, finally realizing I hadn’t budged since we’d stepped into the house. Biting her lip, she watched me, waiting for me to catch up to the moment, knowing it was something she couldn’t rushed. It’s a fine thing in life to have a best friend you’re completely in tune with; someone who knows you so well that you don’t have to say what you’re feeling because they already know.
“Why are we here now if my mother isn’t even here?” I finally managed to ask. “When I spoke to her after my concert, she’d said to meet her here.” Mama hadn’t wanted to get into a long emotional conversation, telling me we’d have time to discuss everything once we got to Kansas, and the questions were piling up; the latest being why I was standing in my grandmother’s house after my mother said she was going to sell it. I’d never asked her about it. I hadn’t wanted to talk about it because if I did, I’d want to ask if she’d heard anything about the Kepners.
“Your mother had a few loose ends to tie up.” Connie responded as she busied herself straightening sofa pillows.
“What loose ends?” My tone was sterner than I meant it to be, but none of this made sense.
Connie curved her mouth up apologetically. “She didn’t say. She just asked me to come and prepare the house for everyone. I’m leaving tonight to get her and drive her here. We should be back in three or four days. I’ve stocked the pantry and had firewood delivered if you want to use the fireplace. Her hospital bed was delivered this morning and we set it up in her childhood bedroom because that room is closest to the bathroom. Your bedrooms are at the end of the hall, but I’m happy to switch if you’d prefer my room, Emalee.”
I stared at her blankly. She was taking care of everything. I was the daughter. I should be the one seeing to these things. “How long have you known, Connie?” She lowered her head, the motion causing her short hair to curtain her face.
“A little over a year.”
My skin heated as anger scorched through me. “A year? My mother has known she was dying for over a year, and y’all waited until she was on her death bed to let me know?”
“She didn’t want to tell you unless…it got bad.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, beyond frustrated. “Well, she’s coming to her childhood home to die, so I think it’s pretty bad by now.” Emotion clawed at the back of my throat making my eyes tear up, but I pushed it down. I couldn’t cry. Not yet. “Did it ever occur to either of you that I could’ve gotten her world-renowned doctors? The best in the world.”
Connie glanced at Pepper, looking for a lifeline, but Pepper immediately looked away. She wasn’t about to step in front of my wrath. I was angry as hell, and there was no doubt in my mind that I sounded like a total bitch, but I’d had a right to know. My mother was dying, and someone should’ve told me long before she reached the point of no return.
“She made me promise, Emalee,” Connie said quietly, though her voice held an edge. “She saw excellent doctors. She did everything she could.”
“Says wh—”
“Connie,” Pepper interrupted, cutting me off. “Would you mind giving us a few minutes please?”
Shooting her wounded gaze between Pepper and me, eventually Connie conceded. “Of course. I’ll make some coffee.”
I was still rooted to the same place I’d been since we entered. Pepper eyed me for a moment, then walked across the living room and picked up a framed photo of my mother from the mantel. “This is a great shot of her.” Her mouth lifted in a sad smile.
I nodded, unable to speak. I can’t cry. I won’t.
She gently returned the frame to the mantel and approached me, taking my hands in hers. “I know you’re still reeling from the news, and you have every right to be angry, but you need to make peace with the reality that these are your last days with your mother and focus on the time you have left. Don’t waste them being angry over things that can’t be undone.”
Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. “I just don’t understand why she didn’t tell me.”
Pepper’s concerned gaze flicked away for a moment as she searched for how to answer my question. “I’m sure she meant well. She didn’t want to worry you.”
Glancing around the house, I realized it had been updated since I’d last seen it. The faded wallpaper was gone and the walls were now painted a soft beige. I wondered if Connie had taken care of that too.
“Look, we’re tired. Let’s go upstairs and get some rest. You’ll feel better after a nap.”
We said goodbye to Connie as she left to retrieve my mother from wherever she was then we went upstairs, and I cried myself to sleep.
Later that evening, I lay sprawled across my bed wearing an oversized Wonder Woman t-shirt and a pair of pastel pink slippers that belonged to my grandmother, doing my best to ignore Pepper as she held up two dresses.
“You should wear this one,” she insisted, shaking the hanger with a slinky red number on it.
“Pepper,” I whined. “I don’t want to go. Can’t we just stay in? If I go to town, everyone will stare at us.”
“So what,” she argued. “That’s your life, Em. They stare everywhere you go. Does that mean you never get to go out?”
“No, but you don’t get it. This is a really small town.”
She stomped over to the closet and hung the dresses on the rod. She was already dressed and ready to roll out, so I knew she wasn’t going to give up easily. “It doesn’t matter if it’s a small town or not.”
“It matters a lot,” I grumbled. Pepper didn’t know how tiny small-town eyes could make you feel. “You think the news coverage on my broken engagement to Seth was bad?” I sighed. “Wait ’til you see the people in this place.”
“To hell with them. They don’t know the pressure you live under.”
That was true. Even I hadn’t known when I started out. All the singers I’d adored and watched had made it seem so easy. All I’d wanted to do was share my voice and my songs. I loved performing and the thrill just before I stepped out in front of a crowd. The rush that ran up and down my skin when a venue full of people cheered as they heard the first note of a song gave me motivation, kept me moving forward. It had been all dreams and hopes back then, but the fame was something else. Always hiding a part of myself for fear of judgement; always smiling and appearing happy; knowing I’d prayed for it with all my heart and felt each and every fan deserved a piece of me. After all, without them, I wouldn’t be Alyssa Myers.
Pepper’s slender shoulders drooped, her face contorting in agony as she stomped her feet and whined like a toddler. “Emmmmmmmm,” she groaned. “When is the last time we got to just go to a bar and chill? We’ve been laying low since the Seth story broke and that was forever ago. I need to be among the normal people.”
“Well in case you haven’t noticed, Pep, I’m kind of having a couple of life crises here,” I snipped. “My apologies for not keeping your social life in mind.”
She made a claw hand and hissed loudly. “Okay, Miss Kitty, put the claws away,” she quipped.
“Sorry,” I murmured, pursing my lips, annoyed that she was right; I was being catty. One reason Pepper was my best friend was she wasn’t afraid of me. She didn’t bow down to my famous persona the way most people might. “We could play a board game,” I offered, hoping to persuade her to abandon her mission to go out in public. “Scrabble!” I exclaimed. “I know we have one in the hall closet.” I swung my legs off the be
d, ready to hustle to the hallway when I met Pepper’s disappointed gaze. Her lower lip poked out as she obnoxiously made her feelings known.
“Fine,” I deflated with a huff, becoming my own version of a toddler. “We’ll go out so you can socialize at the expense of my dignity and mental health.”
Smiling brightly, she clapped her hands several times. “Yay!” she chirped. “I’ll get the car!”
For being in a small town, the HoBo did well. Of course, it helped that there wasn’t another bar for thirty miles. It definitely wasn’t what one might call the finest of establishments, but the beer was cold, and except for the occasional drunken fight that broke out, the atmosphere was friendly; though, even the brawls served a purpose. Small towns needed something to gossip about.
Joe and Bailor were already seated at a table near the bar when I moseyed in, ready for a cold beer.
I waved to Frankie behind the bar as I sat down next to Bailor, and she nodded in acknowledgement before moving off to get my usual beer.
“Hey, Cole Kepner. Good to see you,” Scarlett, one of the servers, said with a wink as she sashayed by us. Our appreciative gazes followed her as she moved away before trading sideways glances with each other.
Just then, Frankie dropped my beer in front of me, the stern look on her face a clear indication that she’d caught us ogling the attractive server. I cleared my throat and sat up a bit more. “Uh, thanks, Frankie,” I managed.
She turned back to the bar with a harrumph as Bailor bit back a laugh and said, “Sheesh, a man can’t even have a dirty thought these days.”
The juke box clicked as it switched songs and Embrace, by Alyssa Myers, began to play. Every time I heard the song about a boy that broke her heart, I wondered if it was about me and if I truly had broken Emalee’s heart. The truth behind the song had tortured me for years. Hell, I’d broken both of our hearts. As usual, Joe and Bailor did their best to distract me while the song played by talking about sports and other meaningless topics, and I added in a few comments here and there, but for some reason this time the attempts at distraction weren’t working. All I could think about was the song.
