“I’m good. Workin’ hard but I miss these pies,” I chuckle.
She tilts her head. “Don’t bullshit me, I’ve known you since you were in your momma’s belly.”
“I’m good, Margie. Currently workin’ with Rebel Desire. Do you know ‘em?” She shakes her head. “They’re a popular country music band.”
“Country music ain’t what it used to be,” she purses her lips.
“It ain’t, but we gotta move forward with times. It’s still good music. Reaches the soul, ya know?” Although the genre has changed throughout the years, the core of the music is the same.
“How about your love life?” I groan when she asks and throw my head back.
“Really?” My head snaps back to stare at her.
“Yeah.” She crosses her arms. “How’s Mackenzie?” Her eyes soften.
“You know I don’t know that.” I grip the countertop.
“Word is you went and saw her.” She lifts her eyebrows.
“Fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” I mumble, but she hears me.
“Watch your mouth,” she warns, and I laugh.
“Sorry. News here spreads too fast. Let’s just say we ain’t walkin’ down the aisle anytime soon.” I eye the pies, wanting to sprint outta here.
“It’s the small town charm, Hunter. She’ll come around. I’ve seen few people love each other the way you two did, even at a young age.” I nod and thank her. Everyone fucking knows my business here, that’s the problem. I’m surprised Jack didn’t call me. I’m sure he heard, and if he didn’t, Julie did. I should’ve seen him, but this trip wasn’t supposed to be longer than a couple hours with a very specific purpose. At least I got that sorted.
“Here you go.” Margie hands me a small bag with the container holding the two slices. Wish I could share them with Mackenzie.
“Thanks, Margie. Hey, I have a question. Do you ship your pies?” Her eyebrows furrow. “I’ll pay whatever it costs.”
“You want a pie supply direct to Nashville?” she laughs.
I shake my head; my face grows serious. “I want to send a pie to Los Angeles.”
Margie stops laughing and steps forward, leaning on the counter. Her eyes gleam with mischief as she listens attentively. “What’s the address? I’ll send it her way.”
My smile grows. “Thanks. If I add a note will you promise not to read it?”
“No,” she laughs.
“Okay but keep it to yourself. I have enough people talkin’ ‘bout us in this town.”
“I can do that,” she promises.
I grab a sheet of paper from her pad and scribble a couple words. Straight to the point. “Thanks, Margie.” I pay her plus leave her cash for shipping and drive back to Nashville feeling more confident.
I PLACE THE PHONE between my ear and shoulder, struggling to keep it from falling. I reach over to the passenger side, tugging on the handle of my bag until it lifts.
“Shit.” I drop the bag and fish for my phone in the center console. “Sorry, dropped my phone.”
“What are you doing?” Tiffany’s curiosity is mixed with confusion.
“Trying to get out of my car and to my apartment while I keep you on the phone.” I push the phone further up on my shoulder and lock my car, walking to the stairs. I jerk the slipping bag up my arm and round the corner to my apartment.
I tilt my head and look at the package outside my door. The delivery man must’ve confused my apartment with someone else’s. I haven’t ordered anything.
My eyebrows furrow as I read my name on the label.
“Hey, did you send me something? I have a box outside my house with Margie’s address.”
“Nope, but I could totally go for her sweet potato pie right now.” Tiffany salivates while I open the door and attempt to pick up the box plus keep my bag and phone from slipping.
“Let me bring everything into the house and call you back. I’m limited trying to keep my shoulder tense and carry a box.”
“Fine,” she sighs. “But you better call me right back.”
“I will,” I assure her and hang up. With my phone in my back pocket, I hike my bag onto my shoulder and carry the box. I didn’t even know Margie delivered. I kick the door closed behind me and lock it while balancing the box in my hand. Once in the kitchen, I grab my phone to call Tiffany back before she sends me a million text messages and grab a pair of scissors to open the box.
“What was in the package?” she answers the phone.
“I’m opening it now.” I lift the flaps and find a foam insulator. A small piece of paper placed on top.
I lift it with a shaky hand and read the words.
In case you’re feeling homesick.
Love, H
I close my eyes and swallow hard.
“Who’s it from?”
I ignore Tiffany’s question when I see more writing in the back. Heart in throat, I turn the paper and find another message.
That boy still loves you — Margie
“Mackenzie,” Tiffany demands. “The suspense is killin’ me,” she whines.
“You’re so dramatic. It’s from Margie,” I lie, lifting the top of the foam insulator to find a perfect pecan pie. The corners of my mouth turn up into a smile.
“Really? That’s weird. How’d she get your address?” Her detective hat is on.
“I don’t know. Maybe she asked Mom or Dad?”
“No,” I can imagine her shaking her head. “Mom and Dad haven’t been by the bakery in a while. Dad’s tryin’ to cut back on sweets, which you’d know if you visited us.” I roll my eyes. Here we go again. The reason for her call.
“Don’t y’all have spring break or something out there? Come visit. Pleeeaasssseeee,” she begs like when she was a child. I shut my eyes. She’s been begging since she called me when I was on my way out of work. Knowing Hunter was in town convinces me even more to stay put in LA, even with Justin trying to convince me we belong together. When he got back from San Francisco last week, he showed up here as if I never told him I needed time. That night I made it clear that I had time to think, and I was done.
“Brat.”
“I know,” I hear her smile over the phone. “I miss you and my spring break sucked and I can’t go visit you. Please consider it. It will be good now that you’re not with Justin. Mom and Dad would flip. They’d be so happy.”
I stare at Hunter’s handwriting. Maybe he won’t be back in Springville for a while. It’s not as if he’s been around a lot in the past.
“It’s been too long, Kenz,” she sighs. Her words are drawn out, sadness conveying their message.
“I know.” Truth is, I miss my home. I’ve been avoiding it for fear that I’d break down. So many memories would smack me. Although I’ve avoided it, I still haven’t forgotten about Hunter or the baby I lost. I never told anyone, only Tiffany, when I got the news from the campus clinic. I wasn’t expecting Hunter’s reaction.
I block the thoughts from manifesting in my mind and turn my attention back to the pie and Tiffany’s conversation. I do miss so much from Springville, eating Margie’s delicious treats fresh being one of them.
“I’ll think about it,” I throw out. Her squeal leaves me deaf, and I pull the phone away from my ear. My spring break is in a week, so if I’m really going to visit, I need to book a flight soon. I was planning on staying here and relaxing, but the idea of going home for a few days sounds nice. I could use the fresh air. Besides, seeing Hunter in person already broke the fear of running into him.
I hang up with Tiffany, eager to really open the pecan pie and eat a slice of heaven or two. I can’t believe he sent me a whole freaking pie. I open the lid of the container and smell the nutty, sugary filling that makes my mouth water. I close my eyes and sigh softly, smiling.
Maybe it is time I visit home.
I serve myself a hefty slice and sit on the couch, turning the television on to my Netflix account and finding the show I’ve been binging. I never thought I’d be the type
of person who binged shows, but I’m hooked on the drama and suspense of this show. Taking a bite, I moan when I chew and close my eyes. This was heaven sent.
We used to sit at Margie’s for hours after our plates were clean of pecan pie. I was young with eyes only for Hunter as he spoke about sports and whispered about his love for music without others hearing. I would eat up each word, my face resting on my hands as his smile would shine on his handsome face with full lips and straight nose. Back then he didn’t have a beard like he does now. It surprised me when I saw him in the video, but it added more flutters in my stomach. Flutters I wanted to ignore.
I eat more of the pie, focusing on the show instead of the impossible desire my heart has. Hunter may want another chance, but I don’t know that I can. It’s been hard to get to that point of forgiveness. I lost so much that I didn’t know I had until I lost it.
I squeeze my eyes shut, caging in the tears that want to escape. I just want one day where I’m free of thoughts of the past and what ifs. One day where I’m just Mackenzie Grace, the southern girl that moved to this big city to help children. But apparently, Mackenzie Grace comes with Hunter. Since the age of seven, when my family moved to Springville from Tuscaloosa for more land and I was nervous about starting a new school away from my friends.
Of course, there had to be a boy who made fun of my pigtails. I disliked him so much, but when he wasn’t looking I’d stare at him, curious about why he would make fun of them, and gaze at the light freckles sprinkled over his nose.
Hunter was the first crush I can remember having, my first guy friend, my first boyfriend, my first love.
And he sent me a pecan pie from all the way in Alabama. I smile, thinking about how he convinced Margie to do that. I don’t know how I didn’t think of that before. Tiffany could’ve sent me some when I was feeling homesick throughout the years. Although, she’d tell me to get my ass there and buy my own if I really wanted pie. She’s been on my case about moving back since my first year was up.
I miss her, but I need this time for me, away from the town. It’s not just the memories that surround me, but it’s the people that will talk and ask questions about what happened between us. I didn’t want to deal with our break-up in a small town.
I lean over and drop my empty plate on the coffee table and switch it for my laptop. I power it up, opening a browser and search for flights, the show long forgotten.
After seven and a half hours of traveling, with a layover and a dent on my credit card, I breathe in Alabama air as I step out of the Birmingham airport in search of my parents’ car. Honking draws my attention and I see my sister leaning over the driver’s seat and pressing the horn over my dad.
She jumps out of the back before he puts it in park and wraps her arms around me. She squeezes me tightly, shrieking into my ear. I move my head back, laughing.
“I can’t believe you really came! I kept waiting for you to chicken out.” She pulls back, her face lit with a smile.
“I missed you, too,” I giggle. “Hi, Dad.” I hug my dad. My mom smiles at me behind him, wiping her face. “Mom,” I coo and tilt my head, pulling her in. “I can’t believe I’m here.” I look at them.
“We’re so happy you came.” My mom holds my hand while my dad grabs my suitcase and puts it in the bed of the truck.
“How’s work?” My mom asks when we’re all in the car.
“It’s good. I’m sad my contract is up this year because those kids have become so special to me. They did offer me a position, but it’s not that simple. California requires a Master’s for teachers to become certified in the state. They could waive it for a year if I go to grad school—”
“Just move back,” Tiffany sighs dramatically.
I shove her playfully and laugh. “It’s not that easy. I really like what I’m doing and wish I could work with Teach with Heart forever.”
“How much is grad school in California?” My dad looks at me through the rearview mirror.
“Way more than I’d ever make teaching.” It would be too much, especially that I’m not a resident of the state of California. It’s a huge investment and commitment for a place I’m not sure will become my forever home.
“We just want you to be happy.” My mom turns around to look at me with a sad smile.
“I know, Mom.” I look out the window watching us breeze down the highway on the way home.
I used to make this drive every day when I was in college. I preferred the forty-five-minute commute over staying in a dorm. My whole life was in Springville. I smile when the terrain changes, houses further apart as we enter rural Alabama. I appreciate the silence that falls while I take in the place I’ve been missing. The love I have for this town hits me in tidal waves as I see it again, as if I had forgotten about it in the three years I was away.
I get out of the truck and stretch, turning as I take in the farm. The early afternoon sun shines down, illuminating this place so peacefully.
“Is Macey back there?” I ask my dad.
“She sure is, and she’d love if you went to see her. I’ll take your bag in. Go see your girl.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” I kiss his cheek.
I practically jog to the barn, finding the mare’s head peeking out in curiosity.
“Hey, girl,” I coo, walking slowly to her. “It’s me, Mackenzie. You may have forgotten since I’ve been away for so long, but I had to see ya.” I reach out to let her sniff my hand, getting reacquainted.
I feel like I’m twelve again, sneaking out of the house and into the barn to spend time with the horses. My favorite chores were those that involved this space. I inhale the dust and shavings, exhaling the weight of the city I’ve been calling home. Nothing beats this.
I pet Macey as I think about the decision I need to make in the coming weeks. The school year will be over in two months. It’s too late to apply for grad school for the fall, but as long as I start by spring semester, the school will waive it. I almost hurled when I saw how much it would cost me. I’ll be in debt for years to come to pay my degree as a teacher.
But is moving back really an option? I could live in Birmingham. Work as a teacher there. I can visit my parents on the weekends, maybe some evenings for dinner. I’d definitely be closer to the nature I crave.
Closer to Hunter.
I stare at Macey and push those thoughts away. Even if Hunter and I will be closer in distance it doesn’t mean anything will happen. It doesn’t mean I’d be moving back here for him.
California just became more permanent than it was supposed to be.
“Am I interrupting?” Tiffany stands in the opening of the barn.
“Nope. What’s up?” I run my hand through Macey’s coat one last time.
“I need to run to the store. Wanna come?” Tiffany bats her eyelashes excessively.
I laugh and link my arm with hers. “Let’s go, sis. Do you think people will whisper when they see me?” I joke.
“Oh, definitely. You may want to change though. This isn’t Cali anymore and it seems like it may rain.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I mock before running into the house to change.
“I’m going to wait for you outside,” I inform Tiffany when I can’t stand the whispers of two older women also buying groceries.
“Okay, I’m just going to pay.”
I stand on the sidewalk, taking in Main Street. It used to look bigger when I was a kid. Now, it’s a narrow street lined with stores and restaurants. I see Margie’s bakery and smile. She’s going to give me shit when I see her, but I’m definitely going for some pecan pie this week.
“Mackenzie?” Surprised brown eyes stare at me from an open car window. “What are you doing here?” Hunter leaves his car running and stalks toward me. He lifts his cap and places it on his head again, a nervous tick he’s always had.
“Visiting,” I offer a one-word explanation. I wasn’t expecting him to be here. Why isn’t he in Nashville? My heart slams in my chest, creating nausea in my s
tomach.
He takes a step closer before pausing, wanting to reach out but containing himself. I know his body’s language as if it were my own. I cross my arms over my chest for protection. It’s easy to reach out to him, invite him into my space.
“What are you doing here?” His jeans are worn, and his shirt has a few strands of hay stuck on it. I smile when I see his muddy boots.
“Came down this weekend to help my pops with the ranch. It’s been…” he trails off, scratching his short beard. “Doesn’t matter. How long are you here for?”
“A week.”
“Can we do something? Tonight? Tomorrow? I don’t have to be back in Nashville ’til Monday morning.”
I look around, noticing people are pausing to stare. I shake my head, not wanting to make a scene. At one time we were the town’s favorite couple. It came as a surprise when we each left, in opposite directions.
“Please…” He takes another step.
“It’s not a good idea, Hunter.” My body tenses, shifting my weight. We can’t just hang out and start fresh as if nothing ever happened.
“Hey, Tiff.” Hunter looks behind me.
“What are you doing here?” She crosses her arms next to me and scowls, cocking her hip.
“It’s okay.” I place my hand on her arm.
“Do we like him now?” She scrunches her nose. I can’t help by laugh. She’s loyal to the death.
“I’m working on it,” Hunter answers her for me.
“Well, I guess you did get her to see Justin was an asshole and break up with him.” I blanch when she spits out the information I deliberately kept from him.
“I know,” he smiles.
“I didn’t tell you,” my stance becomes defensive, leaning back a bit.
“I heard the news, and I can’t say I’m sorry. You deserve better.”
“What? Like you?” I laugh dryly.
“Yes, and you know it. Don’t pretend I’m like him.” This time he doesn’t stop until we’re face to face. “I made a mistake, but I always treated you with respect.” His lips curl as his words leave his mouth.
Memories of Us Page 9
