by Lexy Timms
“I do. I had it once for my husband.”
I crossed my leg over my knee and brought my hand to cup my mouth.
“If you don’t want to talk, I can’t make you. But I will leave you with this thought. You haven’t felt this strongly about someone before. Ever. You always talk yourself out of things, and usually I’m on your side. Usually, you have good judgement when it comes to women. But whatever happened back in Stillsville, maybe you should consider the fact that it might be worth a second chance.”
I nodded, but I didn’t respond. Because she wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already turned around in my head a thousand times over. I’d been home for four weeks, and there wasn’t a free second in my mind that wasn’t taken up by Michelle.
“When you get a chance to look through these folders, the last one has something important in it,” Maria said.
I furrowed my brow as I panned my gaze over to her.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Do some work for once and look at it yourself,” she said with a grin.
Then she got up out of her chair and took off through my home.
I reached over to the stack of folders and slid the last folder from the bottom of the stack. I flipped it open and found myself face to face with a green sticky note. I plucked it from the folder and dropped it closed, my eyes scanning the impeccable writing of Maria Lopez.
There was a buyer interested in Anton’s home. But they didn’t want any of the furniture.
Which meant I still had shit to contend with regarding that man’s estate.
I could call the realtor and tell him to sell it all. Auction it off and donate the rest to the community at large. But my mind flashed back to that old, beat-up car in the garage. At the very least, I owed it to Anton to take care of that myself. Make sure the seller taking the car would take better care of it than I did.
Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I sent off a message to my pilot. I needed my jet gassed up and ready to go in the next couple of hours. Taking care of that car meant going back to Illinois, and it was the least I could do after destroying it with my selfishness. And if I ran into Michelle by chance, then it presented an opportunity to apologize for the way I had acted that day.
The day I yelled after her to come back as she walked blindly across the road.
Chapter 2
Michelle
I wiped the sweat off my forehead as I unwrapped the half-apron from around my waist. This Wednesday had been one of the busiest we’d ever experienced, and the tips were to die for. It was almost as if everyone in the damn town didn’t feel like cooking themselves dinner. I’d been working at the diner for a little under a month, and things were going smoothly. I was still trying to get the hang of some things, since Brad was updating the place a little bit, but other than that I was making better money than I had the first time around.
Apparently all the place had needed were some more comfortable booths and an all-day breakfast menu.
It still wasn’t what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, but having a job was better than not having one. And after I got this second paycheck of mine, I’d have enough for first month’s rent, a security deposit, and some furniture of my own. Having my own bank account felt great. Looking at my deposit receipts and seeing the amount of money I had slowly tick up was a wonderful thing. And after adding all of that to the pile of money Grayson tossed at me that day, I had more than enough to make myself comfortable once I could find a place that made me feel safe.
I leaned against the wall in the bathroom and sighed. Just thinking about Gray brought me down. As much as I hated to admit it, I missed him. Despite the argument, his swift departure and the anger in his eyes that day, I missed him. A lot. I wondered what he was up to. If his vineyard was keeping him busy, and if he was jetting off around the world erasing the memory of me with someone else at his side.
The idea alone brought tears to my eyes.
I splashed some water in my face and turned my mind to the idea of living on my own for the first time. I felt my spirits buoy at the idea. I’d never lived on my own before. I was either with my mother, with a friend, or with Andy. And while the idea of settling down in Stillsville and chancing a run-in with him every so often wasn’t appealing, the idea of having a place to call my own was. A place where I ruled the nest. Where I called the shots. Where I could kick people out instead of being the one kicked out.
I could only hope that living alone wasn’t as lonely of an existence as it sounded.
Drying off my face, I drew in a deep breath. Luckily, the extended-stay motel in Stillsville had cut me a massive break. Only one hundred dollars a week if I promised to not use the television, use the lights only when I had to, and make very little use of the hot water. All rules I could live by for four hundred dollars a month. I paid it all up front and unplugged all of the electronics in the room, then suffered through cold showers until I could no longer stand it.
I couldn’t wait for my second paycheck to come in.
A hot shower would feel so good against my skin.
Wrapping my apron back around my waist, I walked out of the bathroom to get back to work. But the second I did, I heard a noise I knew would haunt me for the next two hours. A rowdy group of teenagers came into the diner, whooping and hollering, and cracking jokes so loud the other patrons were staring with their softly crinkled-up faces. And of course, Cecily ushered them to my section of the diner.
She always stuck me with the shitty customers.
I didn’t want to complain because Cecily was the reason I got my job, both the first and second time around. Plus, she had let me crash on her futon at her place whenever I worked the late shift. Cecily’s place was only a block and a half from the diner, versus the motel where I was staying, which was almost a mile and a half away. I found myself knocking on her door many times to crash, and never once had she sent me away.
Cecily wanted me to come stay with her permanently after she heard about Anton’s place no longer being available, but I couldn’t stomach that much time around there. Being with her increased my chances of running into Andy, and I wanted to minimize that as much as possible. Still, she made me promise that every late shift evening would be spent on her futon instead of me walking through town at two in the morning, and I was grateful for the offer.
Especially since Stillsville didn’t have many public lights to illuminate the sidewalks at night.
But not living with Cecily full-time didn’t mean I didn’t see Andy at all. I’d caught more women then I cared to admit doing the walk of shame out of his place in the morning. It made me sick, how easily he had replaced me. Had I really meant that little to him? The idea that I uprooted my world to move here with a man like that made me question everything I was.
Maybe Gray had been right that night.
Maybe I didn’t really know myself at all.
Staying with Cecily came with its own downfalls on her end as well. She always seemed a little too eager to talk to me about Gray. She quizzed me about my time with him and openly admitted that the two of them attended high school together. Her, Gray, and Andy. Three peas in a twisted pod I didn’t belong in. She seemed all too eager for details about us, and whenever I refused to indulge her further she got upset with me. She always claimed it was because she was curious as to what Grayson was up to now with his life after he had ‘ditched them and ran off to play football.’ But I wasn’t sure I believed her.
The anger she displayed at these times never stuck around for long, but I didn’t understand why it upset her in the first place.
It took me forever to get rid of those rowdy teenagers, and all they ordered were some sodas and a plate of fries to share between the six of them. The tip was lousy and it made me upset, but thankfully my shift was done. I took off my apron and cashed out my tips, sticking the money in my back pocket so I could make a run to the bank.
“Hey, Michy!”
I cringed at the nickname, as
Cecily came bounding up to me.
“Hey there. What’s up?” I asked.
“I get off in a couple more hours. Wanna get together for some drinks? We rarely get an evening off together.”
“Sure, that’s fine. I need to make a run to the bank, but after that I could come back and wait for you.”
“That’s not a problem. You know where the spare key is at my place. Just let yourself in and get us some margaritas started. I should be back around seven!”
Then she ran off to take care of some more customers, leaving me there to stew over the position she’d put me in.
Margaritas did sound nice, especially since we hadn’t had a girl’s night in over two weeks. But I knew Andy would be home this time of the day. Probably sitting out on his damn porch drinking his money away in cheap beer. I walked to the bank and deposited my tips, making sure to keep a little cash back for myself. I went and picked up a couple of snacks from the store for Cecily and I to munch on with our drinks, then I started over to her place.
And just as I suspected, Andy was sitting on the porch.
I tried not to make eye contact with him as I walked up to Cecily’s side of the house, but the second I heard him whistle I stopped. Was he seriously trying to get my attention that way? Did he really think that would work?
I rummaged around for Cecily’s spare key before another whistle sounded.
“Looking for this?” Andy asked.
Looking over, I saw him holding Cecily’s spare key. What the hell was he doing with it?
“What do you want?” I asked.
“To talk. That’s it,” he said.
“There’s nothing to talk about. Now give me Cecily’s key.”
I walked off the porch and reached out for it, but he pulled it back from my grasp.
“Just a short conversation.”
“Cece’s going to kill you for having that key,” I said.
“Then she should keep it in a place the whole town doesn’t know about.”
“Give me the damn key, Andy.”
“And what a mouth you’ve grown. You think you’re big and bad now that you’ve screwed around with a billionaire?” he asked.
My eyes locked onto his as I ground my teeth together.
“Who’re you fucking now that Grayson left town?” Andy asked.
“None of your damn business, judging by the parade of women coming out of your place in the morning.”
“So, you’ve been watching me, huh?”
“Not a chance in hell, Andy.”
I lunged for the key but he stood up, stumbling over himself and falling off the porch. Quickly, I went around and bent down, yanking the key from his fingers. What a raging lunatic. A pathetic excuse for a human being. What I ever saw in him, I’d never know.
“You really didn’t think a man like him could really want you, did you Michy?”
I jammed the key into Cecily’s door and unlocked it.
“A man like him with money, that don’t give a shit about the town that raised him. The friends that made him who he was. I didn’t want you, and he doesn’t want you either.”
Tears sprang to my eyes as I stalked into Cecily’s apartment.
“No man’s gonna dick you like I did, Michy! Remember that!”
But a man already had. Dicked me well and broke my heart.
I slammed the door behind me, locking it so I could drown out Andy’s drunken rampage. I heard his muffled roars as he stormed into his house, then started yelling at our shared wall. I closed my eyes and blocked him out. Just like I had blocked Gray out when I left Anton’s house, walking away without looking back. Pulling out the deposit receipt, I looked at the number, my heart fluttering rapidly when I saw the amount.
Over seven thousand dollars in my account.
I walked into Cecily’s kitchen and shut the door behind me. Putting as much space in between me and Andy as I could, I put the groceries down on her counter and sat at her table. I pulled up website after website on my phone of apartments for me to rent. And some of them were even outside of Stillsville itself. I’d have to go back on the job hunt, but with my waitressing experience, I knew Brad would put in a good word for me. Even if I worked at another diner for the rest of my days somewhere else, it would be better than doing it in Stillsville.
With Andy yelling at me and Grayson’s memory haunting me.
I couldn’t wait to get out of Illinois for good.
Chapter 3
Grayson
I drove with the windows down and a grin across my cheeks. The smells of Illinois no longer made my nose crinkle. The second I’d set foot on my private jet to fly back out here, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. My focus returned. My head straightened out. Ghosts and memories no longer haunted me, but beckoned to me as I drove closer to the small town. Ever since I’d stepped off that damn plane and into my rental convertible, I felt lighter on my feet. Coming back to personally deal with Anton’s stuff instead of impersonally selling it off to the highest bidder filled a hole in my heart. Sure, most of the important things had already been dealt with, but there were enough odds and ends to merit my personal attention.
Though that small voice in the pit of my gut whispered that it wasn’t just about Anton.
Still, I kept my head in the game. Reconciling with that car was the last piece of this torrid puzzle. I drove through downtown, my eyes scanning the sidewalks. I kept my eyes out for Andy. Or the girl that slapped me across the face in the grocery store.
But a part of me was hoping to see a thick head of red hair walking down the road.
I pulled into the realtor’s lot with no signs of Michelle in sight. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t there for her anyway. I’d made that mistake once, and it blew up in my face. Just like things in my life always did. I turned off my car and hopped out over the door, feeling happier than I had in weeks.
Now that wasn’t an emotion I attached to Stillsville every day.
“Mr. MacDonald, I’m glad you came in person. It’s nice to see you again.”
“Likewise, Mr. Angier. I’m here to inquire about the offer on Anton’s house,” I said.
“Well it’s pretty straight forward. The buyer wants to initiate a walk-through before they make a steady offer. Though they keep asking what will be happening to the furniture in the house and on the porch.”
“That’s why I’m in town. I’ll take care of it,” I said. “Go ahead and set up the walk-through. I’m going to head back to Anton’s and get it show ready.”
“I’ll call your assistant once I get the showing set up, and—”
“No need. Here’s my cell number. Contact me directly once you hear something.”
I slid a card out of my wallet and handed it over to the man.
“Will do, Mr. MacDonald. I’ll call you the second I get something on the books.”
“I appreciate it,” I said.
I walked out of the realtor’s office with my head held high. Heading over to my convertible, I unlocked it, ready to slide behind the wheel and take in the scent of my hometown. I still didn’t understand all of the emotions coursing through my veins. Why I was so happy to be back, especially given the reason for my return. I suspected it had something to do with a woman I left behind, but even then the idea shouldn’t have given me so much joy.
I should have known something would have been creeping around the corner.
Lifting my head, I looked across the road and took stock of the old liquor store. The sign was falling off the building and the lights flickered. A damn electrical hazard was what that thing was. It was dingy. Always had been. But it was the man coming out of the store that caught my eye.
Discord rang through my heart as I watched my father stalk out of the store. He looked old. Worn. His jeans were dirty and there were holes in the knees. He had wispy gray hairs sticking out from his bald head, jutting every which way and lending a chaotic look to him I’d always known as a child. I hadn’t thought about my
father for years. Once I was drafted into the NFL with no one standing at my side, I had discarded him along with my mother—just like she had me.
But seeing him walking out of that store assaulted me with memories that made me hate the town I was standing in.
Memories of when my mother finally left assaulted my senses. She packed up without a sound and left me behind to contend with the asshole. I had convinced myself she was coming back; that this was just one of their fights where he’d tossed her out and she would come back. They always did that. All throughout elementary school. He’d get drunk, they would fight, she would leave, and then after a few days had passed, she would come back.
But not that time. She left me to contend with that monster by myself.
I thought about all of the meals I went without eating. The uncooked ramen noodles I dipped in ketchup or barbecue sauce, and the crackers that sometimes made it into the house. The green beans I opened with a knife and poured down my throat. The unopened canned goods I found in dumpsters, then took home in my backpack to wash off. She was absent in elementary school, in and out through middle school, and was gone by high school. And that was when I taught myself how to cook. How to make a decent sandwich. How to tell if roadkill on the side of the road was still good enough to skin and cook up. How to build a fire out back to keep myself warm whenever the bills went unpaid and things were shut off.
Roadkill.
I’d eaten roadkill as a damn twelve-year old because my father drank our money away every damn night.
I remembered trying to cook for my father one night. I’d set a squirrel trap out back and caught myself a couple of them, so I took them inside to make a stew. I’d offered some to my father in an attempt to sober him up a little, but instead he threw it against the wall and shattered the bowl. It was the first night of many he turned his fists onto me, beating my back and roaring that I’d never amount to anything.
That I should stop trying.
That only monsters and bottom feeders ate shit like squirrels.
Well, he didn’t even eat, so what the hell had that made him?
