Memories of Us

by Fabiola Francisco

  “I saw him ride away, so I figured you had seen him.”

  “He said he’s coming to LA. What am I supposed to do?” I look at Tiffany, hoping that despite being the younger one she’ll have some wisdom to share with me. I swallow back slowly.

  “I remember how hurt you were. I’ve been carrying this secret for you for three years. It’s heavy, and I wasn’t the one who lived through it. Although, I think what weighs you more than the miscarriage, is not having Hunter by your side to mourn the baby. Ultimately, only you know how much forgiveness you’re capable of, but like Daddy always says, in order to have light in our lives we must forgive those that hurt us the way Jesus forgives us.”

  “It’s so hard to do. His reaction was so unexpected that it shifted how I viewed him. He was relieved I didn’t stay pregnant. What if I had? Would he have lived his life resenting me and the child?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t think so. You were both young, still maturing. Hunter had envisioned you two runnin’ off to Nashville as soon as you graduated, but I don’t think he would’ve resented you. Hunter loves you, but you two let the anger get the best of you.”

  I listen to my sister, still and absorbing what she’s saying. “It was so hard to hear him say miscarrying was for the best. It was a child growin’ in me. Our child,” I argue.

  “I know.” Tiffany places her hand on my knee. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t want kids. He had just learned that you were pregnant and lost it. He didn’t have time to process, and he was probably scared. I know you were. Maybe he was in shock?”

  “I don’t know. I always imagined my life with him. It’s been hard not to have him there, ya know? And when I was finally, kinda ready—”

  “But not really,” Tiffany cuts in. “You weren’t really ready to move on, so I won’t let you finish that. Justin was some douchey distraction to see if you’d forget about Hunter.”

  I sigh and let me body fall back with a bounce on the mattress. “You’re probably right.” I stare at the wood beams that run along the ceiling. “He almost kissed me,” I whisper my confession.

  “What?” Tiffany gasps.

  I nod, keeping my eyes trained on the wooden design.

  “He also asked me to dinner tonight,” I continue.

  “What did you say?”

  I turn my head to look at her. “I told him it wasn’t a good idea. He leaves for Nashville tomorrow mornin’ for work.”

  “Go to dinner with him.” Tiffany sits up and claps.

  I shake my head. “I just want to stay in tonight and relax. It’s been way too emotional being back here. Maybe we can go to Margie’s for a slice of pie.”

  “Deal.” Tiffany smiles and stays in my room, both of us talking like when we were younger.

  Roaming around my parents’ property this week has been heaven sent. I never realized how much my body, mind, and soul needed time at home. Even with running into Hunter and all, being here has lifted some of the heaviness that surrounded me. It felt good to yell at him, tell him everything I’ve been holding in and no longer hide behind false strength.

  He was clear a week ago when he said he was going to prove to me he still loves me. I was almost expecting to see him this weekend again, but he never came into town. I know because I searched for his truck. All I found were whispers of who we were years ago.

  I look around one last time and head to the car. I feel emotionless about returning to California. I’m not angry about having to leave, nor excited. I’m just bland. Confused, maybe. I have a decision I need to make and coming home for a week has clouded that decision instead of making it clear.

  The obvious decision is to come back, get a job at a local school, and settle down. My stubborn side wants to stay in California, prove I moved on, and dig myself a tunnel of debt, even if it’s illogical to do so.

  “Please move back,” Tiffany whispers behind me. I turn to look at her, lips trembling and eyes watery.

  “I’ll think about it.” It’s the best I can do. But maybe it’s time.

  “I’ll go and help you pack,” she smiles and hugs me. I wrap my arms around her for a second longer than usual.

  “Deal. Now get in the car before I start crying.”

  The ride to the airport is silent except for the music playing on the radio. When my dad pulls to the curb, I take a deep breath. I suck down the sadness I feel and step out of the car. I hug my mom and Tiffany while my dad grabs my bag from the back.

  “We’ll see you soon,” my dad says as he places the bag on the ground next to me and pulls me in. “No matter what you decide, we’ll support you, but don’t let anger and resentment interfere with your real dreams.”

  My breath comes in shaky and a few tears drip from my eyes.

  “Thanks, Dad.” I kiss his cheek and look at my family. “Love you all. We’ll talk,” I smile.

  “Go on before I start crying and hold you down so you can’t leave,” Tiffany laughs, already crying.

  I blow them a kiss and walk into the airport, suddenly feeling empty.

  “Hello?” I answer the phone as I see Chelle’s name spread across my screen.

  “Hey.”

  “Why are you whispering?” I laugh as I begin unpacking.

  “I don’t know,” her voice returns to her normal volume. “Are you back?”

  “Yeah. I got in about an hour ago.” And since I walked into my apartment, I paced aimlessly, taking in the feeling this place fills me with.

  “Oh, good. Listen, I gotta tell you something but it’s not easy.” My stomach drops. The last time someone used similar words, it was the doctor confirming I had lost the baby.

  “Okay…” I drag out.

  “I went out during spring break with a few friends. I saw Justin at a bar,” she pauses.

  “And?”

  “He was with someone.”

  “Okay? We’re not together. Probably best that he was with someone else, so he stops bothering me.” I sit on the bed, wondering why Chelle is so worried about telling me this.

  “A friend of mine recognized the woman he was with, a model or something, and said that was her boyfriend. Apparently, they’ve been together for a few months.”

  My eyebrows furrow.

  “Sorry. I thought you’d want to know. Maybe it was a stupid idea. I looked up the model’s Instagram and my friend was right. She has pictures of her and Justin sprinkled throughout.”

  “That son of a bitch,” I breathe out. “And he was telling me to move in with him? Fucker,” I groan.

  “I know. I never did like him, but this is low. You broke up with him at the best time.”

  “Yeah.” I nod although she can’t see me.

  “What’s the model’s name?” I ask. I need to see for myself. I may not be in love with Justin, or even in like anymore, but that kind of betrayal hurts.

  “Catia Palmer.”

  “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? He represents her.”

  “Well, looks like their relationship is more than business.”

  “Thanks for letting me know, Chelle. He contacted me once while I was away, and I ignored it. Next time I’m answerin’ and givin’ him a piece of my mind.”

  Chelle giggles in my ear and I look at the screen as if it would show me what is so funny. “What are you laughin’ at?”

  “Girl, you’re accent gets super thick when you’re pissed. It’s so cute. You gotta get angrier more often and call me so I can hear your southern drawl.”

  I smile. “You’re a loser. Seriously, thanks for telling me.”

  “Anytime. How was Alabama? Did you see your real lover boy?” I roll my eyes, but the image of my lover boy is prevalent in my mind.

  “Yeah.”

  “What? I was just kidding! I thought he lived in Nashville.” Her voice raises a few beats.

  “He does but was in town helping his dad on the ranch.”

  “Coincidence? I think not. Tell me everything.” The excitement in her voice makes me gi
ggle.

  “Nothing to tell.”

  “Liar. I hear it in your voice. Something happened,” she accuses.

  “In my voice?”

  “Uh-huh… you sound happier.”

  I lean back against my headboard. I feel happier. “I think I want to move back once this year is up. I won’t have Teach with Heart holding me here anymore, and I miss home.” It’s the first time I verbalize it, and it makes sense that it’s with Chelle, who isn’t connected to Alabama.

  “Really?” She sounds surprised. “I mean, I get it. You’ve always loved where you come from. It only makes sense that you eventually go back. I’ll miss you, though.”

  “You can come visit.”

  “Do I have to wear spurs?”

  My laughter snorts until I’m guffawing on my bed. “No!” I exclaim. “Regular clothes,” I wipe under my eyes.

  “Maybe I’ll find myself a cute cowboy and he’ll give me a ride on his horse,” I hear the humor in Chelle’s voice.

  “You’re terrible.” I sigh, catching my breath. “Thanks for the laugh. I needed it.”

  “Anytime, sugar.”

  I shake my head, my smile permanent on my face. When a beep interrupts my thoughts, I check the screen and my nostrils flare.

  “Speak of the devil.”

  “Who? Lover boy or stupid boy?”

  “Stupid. I’m gonna get that. I’ve got a thing or two I’d like to tell him.”

  “Atta girl. Can’t wait to hear about it. I’ll see you tomorrow at work. Good night.”

  “Night.”

  I click over to the other line. “What do you want?”

  “Is that the way to greet your boyfriend?” I roll my eyes.

  “You’re not my boyfriend anymore.” I stand and begin pacing.

  “Mackenzie, you’re being stubborn. We had a fight, I gave you time, now I’m ready to get back what’s mine.”

  “I’m not a piece of property,” I growl. “We are done, Justin. Have been for some time. You wanna know when?”

  “When?” he appeases, as if I’m a child.

  “The moment you started fucking someone else. Does Catia know you were with me?” I shoot straight to the target, hitting bullseye.

  “What?” His voice wavers.

  “You and Catia Palmer. You’ve been seeing her behind my back, so don’t come tellin’ me I’m yours. Newsflash, I never really was. You never treated me the way I deserved it and I put up with it because it was the best I could do, but when I told you I was done with you, I damn well meant it.”

  “You’re making a mistake, Mackenzie. She means nothing to me. It’s just…” His exhale comes into my ear.

  “Don’t bother, Justin. This wasn’t the deal breaker. It was how you treated me for two months that opened my eyes. You’re not the kind of man for me.”

  “You weren’t giving it up. What did you expect me to do? We had gone weeks without sex, and the couple times we did, you weren’t pleasing me.”

  “The fuck? Maybe that should’ve been an indicator that I wasn’t into you. By the way, you weren’t pleasin’ me either. I faked it. And Justin?” Rage storms inside me like a wild bull that’s been caged for far too long. Justin is the sorry rider that’s about to get kicked off.

  “What?” he barks.

  “Don’t you dare contact me or find me. My daddy taught me to shoot a gun, and I ain’t afraid to put it into practice. I have great target practice in the groin area.”

  “Fuck,” he mutters. “You don’t have to be so dramatic. You rednecks are all the same,” he spits.

  “Fuck you, Justin. Redneck or not, I’m proud of where I come from. Unlike you, I was taught morals and respect.” I hang up, done with him and all his bullshit. I pretended to be the kind of woman he wanted by his side, abandoning who I was because I was too torn to look inside my heart.

  Damn, that felt good.

  I’m not sure where to go from here, but I feel relieved. Visiting home was more than seeing my family. It gave me a lot of clarity. Although it was a challenge, I needed to get away from the blinding sun of La La Land and see clearly in the place that always grounded me.

  I’VE HAD MY TICKET to Los Angeles bought since the day I dropped Mackenzie off at her house in the pouring rain. It hurt to see her crying like that. It hurt to rehash the pain we went through, but I’m glad she yelled. I’m glad I spoke to her. We never got a real chance at that before.

  Now I sit in the rental I picked up at the airport in front of her apartment building. I flew out last night and arrived here early in the morning after a long ass layover in Denver. I’ve never paced an airport so much in my life. Now, I’m waiting for the clock to strike nine in the morning before knocking on her door and waking her up. She always was a morning person, but I don’t want to overstep the boundaries.

  I tip my head back on the headrest and close my eyes for a second, the stale coffee I picked up at the car rental sitting cold in the cup holder. My breathing slows, exhaustion from not sleeping on either flight slipping through me.

  A car alarm stops me from fully falling asleep and I check the time. It’s only been ten minutes, but I can’t sit still in this car any longer. I grab a mint from the center console and chew it quickly.

  Getting out of the car, I jog up the stairs, reaching her door. I run my hand through my hair, combing it the best I can and knock. My hands in my pockets and rocking on my heels while I wait for her to answer. I knock again after a couple minutes. Suddenly, my heart races at the thought of her not spending the night here.

  Fuck it.

  I ring the doorbell like a desperate man searching for the rain during a season of drought.

  “Coming.” I exhale when I hear her voice come through the door.

  It swings open, an incredulous look on her face. She looks at her phone and back at me. “Seriously?”

  Her hair is a mess around her sheet-marked face. Her lips are flat as she crosses her arms across her chest, the thin material of her shirt outlining her breasts and I’m instantly hard. Fuck, her tits are perfect. Her long, tanned legs are bared with the shorts she’s wearing. I’d give anything to sleep with her in my arms again.

  “Were you sleepin’?” The side of my mouth tilts up.

  “It’s eight thirty on a Saturday. What do you think?”

  “You were always a mornin’ person,” I shrug.

  “I was tired.” Her breath slips from between her full lips. “Why are you here again?”

  “I told ya I’d be back to see you. Don’t shut me out.” The words rush out before she even thinks about closing the door on me.

  “Hunter, I’m tired and need coffee and don’t have the mental or emotional strength to deal with you right now.”

  “Let me take you out to get some coffee then,” I offer. “I could use a cup, too. Been traveling all night and those crammed seats on the plane don’t exactly scream comfort. Besides, I had an older woman snorin’ next to me.” I attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m not givin’ up on us.” I throw in randomly.

  Her lips part and tremble with her breath.

  “Let me take you to breakfast. You can pick the place.” My confidence slips as I wait for her to give me a straight answer.

  Her arms drop by her side and she shakes her head. “I hope I don’t regret this. Give me a few to get ready.”

  I smirk and nod. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

  “You can come in, Hunter. I’m not heartless.” She opens the door wider and I step in. Curiosity about what her place looks like has spun in a cycle in my mind. I follow her, looking around the small space. Regardless of the dated look of her apartment, she has it decorated in a way that’s just hers.

  The narrow kitchen is lined with Formica cabinets and countertops and older appliances. Her living room is across from it, a small couch and coffee table are across the television. She has some picture frames around the space and bright pillows on the couch. It’s a blend of new and old, and it fits Mack
enzie perfectly.

  “I’ll be right back.” She disrupts my observation and I stare at her. She fits here, and a part of me panics at the thought that this may really be home for her.

  “Okay.” I nod.

  “You can take a seat.” She points to the couch.

  “Of course.” I make my way to the gray piece of furniture and let it swallow my body as I drop down on it. The words I wrote in my journal on the plane come back to me.

  But I promise you,

  This isn’t our end,

  This isn’t goodbye

  She’s let me in. There’s no way we’re saying goodbye. When I hear the shower turn on, I shift in my seat, imagining her stripping down and stepping under the waterfall, skin glistening.

  “Fuck,” I mumble and adjust myself. I shake my head and take in more details about her apartment. I see a photograph of her and Tiffany and smile. Being an only child, I always admired their relationship.

  My smile widens when I see a framed picture of her riding Macey hanging on one of the walls in her living room. She’s a natural beauty, shining brighter than the full moon on a black sky. I stand to get a closer look at the photograph. I need to get her back to Alabama and riding again. I need to find a way to reach her, more than just with my words. I need to hit play on her heart again, so that it syncs with mine and we can move forward together.

  “I’m ready.” She steps into the living room.

  “Awesome. Let’s go.”

  I hold the door open for her and then give her space to lock up.

  “Where to?” I ask once we’re downstairs.

  “I can drive,” she offers, her keys dangling from her finger.

  I shake my head. “Hell no. You give me directions and I’ll take us.” No way I’m going to let her drive us when I’m perfectly capable of navigating these streets.

  “Okay.”

  I open the door and wait for her to slip into the seat before closing and rounding the car to the driver’s side.

  “There’s a place not too far from here that has good coffee and a decent breakfast variety.”

  “You guide me, and I’ll get us there.”