I cringed at her words even though I knew that wasn’t Willow.
“The media is ridiculous.”
Despite my family’s wealth, for the most part we were left alone. I felt bad for Willow and her siblings, not to mention the other kids of her dad’s band members. They were famous only because of who their parent’s were and that had to be hard. They were trying to figure out who they were, all while being poked and prodded beneath a microscope.
“They are.” Willow agreed with a soft sigh.
We grew quiet and I was seconds away from dozing off when she spoke.
“I’m not going back to college.”
“What?” I startled fully awake and turned to look at her.
She nodded. “I can’t do it. I’m miserable there and I don’t want to go through that again.” Her lower lip trembled with the threat of tears. Willow was one of the strongest people I knew and to see her breaking down over this tore something up inside me. “I still don’t know what I want to do.” She pushed errant blonde hairs from her eyes. “But I know college isn’t right for me. Does that make me a failure?” She frowned at me, her eyes pleading with me to impart some enlightening words.
“You’re not a failure, Willow.” I took her hand in mine and brought it to my lips. “You’re the bravest person I know.” Dropping her hand, I continued, “I think it shows an incredible amount of strength for you to admit that this isn’t for you.”
“But you don’t think it makes me weak? A quitter?”
I shook my head. “You could never be weak, and you’re definitely not a quitter.”
“Thank you.” She whispered the words.
I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around her and hug her.
Willow and I had always been close, but the past few days had shown me how deep our bond ran.
Her happiness was mine.
Her sadness and anger.
All of her emotions were mine, and right now her relief was mine too.
***
Once our clothes were clean Willow dumped them out on the table.
She went to start shoving everything in the bag, but I grabbed her hand to halt her.
“We need to fold them first.”
She scrunched her face up in distaste.
Laughing, I said, “I’ll fold them.”
“Thank you kind sir.” She grinned as she hopped up on the table.
Her eyes were free of tears and now she was back to her typical happy, and peppy self.
I folded the clothes and set them in the bag. Willow offered to do it, but I didn’t trust her not to scrunch them up. At least if I did it myself I’d know it was done right.
Frank, the elderly man, had left to take his clothes home and gave us directions to meet him at an Italian restaurant once we finished.
Willow tilted her head to the side as I added one of her bras to the growing pile of clothes.
“Are you glad you came with me?” She asked softly.
I held a t-shirt in my hands and looked up at her. “’Course. There’s no place I’d rather be.”
And that was the honest truth. People always talked about a place being their home, but that wasn’t the case for me. Willow, she was my home. I hadn’t known that until she went to college, leaving behind a huge gaping hole where her presence had been.
She beamed at my words, hearing the sincerity in them.
She looked so pretty sitting there, clean faced with her hair wild around her shoulders, that I couldn’t help myself and had to kiss her.
I set the unfolded shirt down and stepped over to where Willow sat. She watched me with curiosity shimmering in her blue eyes.
I grasped her hips and she leaned down towards me.
Her lips parted to speak, but before she could utter a word I kissed her.
Kissing her was so natural that it felt like I’d been doing it forever, not like last night had been our first.
After only a moment I pulled away and she swayed a bit as if dizzy. Her lips lifted in a small smile and she raised shaky fingers to her plump bottom lip.
“I hope I never get used to that,” she whispered.
“Me too.” I kissed her once more, quickly, before folding the last of the laundry.
“Dean,” she said suddenly with a tone to her voice that told me she was up to no good.
“Yeah?” I looked up from zipping the duffle bag closed.
Her lips lifted in a sly grin and she nodded towards a laundry cart. She wiggled her eyebrows deviously and I shook my head.
“No,” I said sternly.
But the word ‘no’ didn’t exist in Willow’s vocabulary.
She hopped down and scurried over to the cart. She climbed inside it, with her knees squished up to her chin.
“You have to push me,” she hissed, keeping her voice low so that the guy working there wouldn’t hear her.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” I warned her, slinging the duffle bag across my body.
“Dean.” She tilted her head down and eyed me. The look in her eyes told me she wasn’t moving until I pushed her around the Laundromat in the cart.
I shook my head.
Crazy girl.
We’d probably get arrested for destructing property or some other nonsense, but I also couldn’t deny how happy I was to see this Willow back.
With a groan I stood behind Willow and grabbed ahold of the sides of the cart, careful not to hit myself on the large metal pole running straight up and over that was meant for you to hang your clothes on.
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” I braced my feet back and kicked off, running across the tiles.
The cart was a little too small for Willow and it constantly wanted to tip over.
“Hey! You can’t do that!” The guy working there yelled at us, throwing down his magazine on the counter.
“Faster!” Willow yelled and I ran straight for the doors.
I heard the guy shuffling behind the counter, trying to get to us, and since I wasn’t paying attention the cart hit something on the floor and tipped completely over. Willow fell out and rolled along the floor.
She quickly righted herself and jumped up. “Run!”
She grabbed my hand and we ran out together while the guy cursed behind us.
We fell into my car, laughing hysterically and trying to catch our breath—two things that were difficult to do at the same time.
“My heart’s beating so fast,” I said as I removed the duffle bag from across my body and tossed the bag in the back. I fumbled with the keys and tried to get the car started.
I glanced back in the rearview mirror, making sure the guy hadn’t run outside after us.
I saw him through the glass door shaking his head roughly before walking away.
“That. Was. Awesome.” Willow laughed beside me, resting her feet on the dashboard as I pulled away. She smiled at me and her eyes glimmered. “Thank you for always embracing my crazy ideas.”
I chuckled. “I don’t know how to say no to you.”
“It’s because I’m so adorable isn’t it?” She joked. Her hair swirled around her shoulders since the top was down and she raised her arms in the air, moving them in rhythm to the song playing on the radio.
“Something like that,” I whispered.
We didn’t bother heading back to the hotel, instead choosing to go straight to the restaurant.
Frank had given us directions, and the restaurant was close by so it didn’t take us long to find it.
Frank had already arrived and secured a table.
I noticed he’d changed his clothes—he now wore a pair of khaki pants, a button-down collared blue shirt, and he’d even combed his gray hair away from his face.
Willow and I took the chairs across from him and he smiled at our appearance.
“Thank you for doing this.” He smiled bashfully, as if he was ashamed he’d asked for this.
“No, thanks needed.” Willow beamed at him.
&nbs
p; Her kindness towards other people always astounded me. She never met a stranger and she loved everyone.
“What’s good here?” She asked him.
“Everything,” Frank answered with a chuckle.
Willow pursed her lips as she studied the menu. “Hmm,” she hummed in thought.
A waitress stopped by to fill the empty water glasses in front of us.
“How are you doing, Frank?” She asked him, placing a hand on the back of his chair.
“Good,” he replied with a kind smile.
“It’s nice to see someone joining you tonight.”
He nodded at her words, but a sudden sadness had stolen over him and I was sure he thought of his wife.
“I’ll be back to get your orders in a few minutes.” She smiled at Willow and me before heading to another table.
I scanned the menu and decided on spaghetti so I set it aside. Apparently Willow had also made up her mind since her menu sat at the end of the table as well.
“Are you here for the festival?” Frank asked, lifting his glass of water to his lips.
Willow shook her head. “We’re on a road trip and just passing through. We stumbled upon the festival and decided to check it out. It was nice.”
“Lots of stuff.” Frank nodded. “So much that it’s hard to take it in and enjoy it all. Ruth and I,” he cleared his throat, “we used to have a booth there.”
“Oh, you did?” Willow’s eyes lit up. “What did you sell?”
“Made my own bird houses. Still do sometimes, but they’re not as grand as they used to be. It’s a silly hobby.” He shrugged.
“No, it’s not,” Willow interjected. “I think it’s nice that you enjoy doing something.”
His eyes lit up. “I have one in my car if you’d like to see it.”
Willow nodded eagerly. “I’d love to see it.”
Frank’s smile was so big that his eyes nearly disappeared. “I’ll show you when we head out.”
I wanted to lean over and kiss her senseless. Kindness was the most attractive quality on anyone and Willow wore it better than anyone else.
The waitress came back by and we placed our orders.
When she left, Frank crossed his hands on the table and asked, “You said you’re on a road trip, do you mind if I asked where you’re headed?”
“California,” Willow answered readily.
“Why California?”
She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “To see my cousin.”
“Ah,” he nodded, “that’s better than what I thought.”
“What did you think?” Willow asked curiously.
He shrugged. “I thought maybe you were headed to L.A. to try to make a break in acting or something. That place can ruin a person.”
“You speak as if you have experience,” I piped in, raising a brow.
Frank nodded and cleared his throat. “My daughter…she wanted to be an actress. She did theater all through school and she was good…real good, but apparently not good enough. She moved to L.A. and was there no time. She was never the same after. That place broke her spirit.”
Willow frowned. “That’s awful.”
Frank grunted in agreement. “Yeah, that’s why I asked about you. I’d hate for the same thing to happen to you. Or you.” He lifted his glass of water in my direction.
“What does your daughter do now?” Willow asked, and I knew she really wanted to know where she was, since Frank was obviously so lonely.
“Gone too soon, I’m afraid. Car accident.”
“Oh.” Willow sucked in a lungful of air. “That’s awful.”
Frank’s lips thinned until they completely disappeared. “Just me now.”
Willow’s face crumpled a bit and she reached across the table to rest her hand on top of his. Hers was so much smaller, and smoother, while his was large and mottled with age spots. He flipped his hand over and grasped hers.
“You’re never alone, Frank,” Willow spoke softly and I knew she was fighting her emotions, “not anymore, at least.”
Frank’s cloudy blue eyes filled with tears and he squeezed her hand. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
They held hands for a moment longer, sharing a silent moment of understanding.
I lifted my phone inconspicuously and took a picture. I knew Willow would be thankful to have it later.
People like Frank reminded us all how quickly the things we took for granted could be taken away from us. Appreciate everything and you lose nothing.
Frank released her hand and Willow pulled it back into her lap.
She lifted her head and looked at me.
So much was said in that one single glance—how thankful she was for this trip, for this moment, for me.
Our food was brought out and as we ate Frank asked us about our jobs and families. Despite losing his own, he seemed eager to hear about all the crazy people we called family.
When our plates were empty and the table was cleared Frank tried to pay for our meal.
I refused.
He’d been kind to us, and we were the lucky ones for getting to have dinner with him.
“I’ve got this,” I insisted, laying cash on the table.
Frank shook his head. “I was going to—”
I shook my head. “No, I…we want to do this for you.”
“I…well…thank you,” Frank stuttered.
I bowed my head. “You’re welcome.”
The three of us headed out to the parking lot together and Frank led us to an older model Cadillac sedan. He opened the trunk and pulled out a grand birdhouse. It was three stories and even I had to admit the amount of detail was astounding. It almost looked like a dollhouse my sister had when we were little.
“For you.” Frank handed the birdhouse to Willow.
She gaped at him. “Oh, no. I can’t. This is much too nice for you to give me.”
He shook his head and placed it in her arms. “It’s not too much. I want you to have it. A special gift for my new friends.”
Willow smiled at that and handed the birdhouse to me so she could tackle hug the poor man.
“Oomph,” he grunted when she collided with his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek.
He dipped his head in acknowledgment.
“We have to stay in touch,” Willow vowed.
He chuckled. “Why would you want to talk to an old fart like me?”
Willow’s musical laughter filled the air. “Because you’re a pretty cool guy, Frank, and I like you.”
He smiled at her and I knew he saw how remarkable of a person she was, just like I did.
They exchanged phone numbers and Willow vowed to keep him updated on our trip.
As we walked away, Frank said to me, “Take care of that one, you hear me?”
I smiled and lifted my hand to my forehead, saluting him. “I will.”
I opened the passenger door for Willow and she ducked into the car.
On the way back to the hotel, she said, “Who would’ve thought doing our laundry would lead to such an interesting evening.” She ran the tips of her fingers over the shingled roof of the birdhouse that sat in her lap.
My lips quirked into a half-smile. “It goes to show you what you can learn and experience when you stop to get to know someone.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, “it does.”
Willow
On Day Six of our journey, we arrived in Cullman, Alabama. It was a small, normal town. Nothing spectacular and a little lackluster considering how long it took us to get here—which was my fault since I kept getting us lost.
Dean parked the car on the side of the road by the WELCOME TO CULLMAN sign.
His lips lifted into an eager smile. “I assume you want pictures.”
“Of course.” I was already rifling through my bag for my Polaroid camera. It had sunk to the bottom, no surprise there. “Aha!” I cried once my hand closed around it and I pulled it out, waving
it around with a proud smile.
Dean climbed out of the car and jogged around to my side, opening the door for me.
“Milady.” He extended his hand for me to take.
I placed mine in his and he helped me out.
We headed over to the sign and I held up my camera to snap a picture of him. He extended his arms, smiling goofily. I knew it would probably end up being one of my favorite pictures.
I switched places with him so he could take my picture and I wanted one of us together.
Dean held the camera out since his arms were longer and I stood as close to him as I could so we’d both end up in the picture—not that being close to Dean was a hardship or anything.
Before he could take the picture, I whispered his name.
He turned to look at me and I used the opportunity to my advantage, closing the distance between us and kissing him. Idly, I heard the snap of the camera.
Sinking back to the ground from where I’d been on my tiptoes I smiled up at him.
With his free hand he cupped my cheek, smoothing his thumb along my skin. I relaxed into his touch as my body hummed pleasantly.
No words were exchanged. They didn’t need to be.
When you were connected the way we were all it took was a glance or a furtive touch to convey a message.
Back in the car, Dean told me to give him random directions like I had when we arrived in Palatka.
“Straight, left, right, right, left, keep going,” I rattled. “And stop.”
“Well,” Dean chuckled, “I don’t think there’s a cupcake shop.”
It seemed we’d ended up in a mostly barren part of the town, and we were parked in front of an abandoned factory. The brick was old and dirty, and you could see the faint paint lines where the business name had once been painted but was now too blurry to read.
“And now I want a cupcake.”
“I guess you’ll have to settle for a lollipop.” He dug in the bag that sat between our seats and held a strawberry one out to me.
I grinned and took the lollipop, my fingers lingering against his.
I undid the wrapper and stuck it in my mouth.
“I think we should have a picnic,” Dean announced.
I raised a brow and pulled the lollipop from my mouth. “Don’t you kind of have to have food for that?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I figured we could pick up some food and make a date here.”
The Road That Leads to Us Page 15
