by Alex Rosa
“You must be Hailey!”
My head whips around, and I’m shell shocked by Kristen’s bold approach, more because that’s totally something I would do. Her hand is outstretched over the table, and I can’t get my head around her wide, honest smile.
“I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to put a face to the name.”
Cameron’s boot comes colliding into my shin under the table because I must be staring too long. I reach out for her hand and shake it. It’s a soft but firm shake. “Hi, hope they were all good things because I’ve been known to get into trouble with this group. And you are?”
Wow, okay. That wasn’t so hard. That actually sounded sane and cordial. One point: Hailey, Zero: insanity.
“Kristen Palmer,” she nudges her elbow into Caiden’s ribs playfully before adding, “the girlfriend.”
It sounds like a label rather than a place within this group. But she’s still smiling this bright-as-the-sun smile, and I hate that it’s hard for me not to like its genuine gleam.
“Good luck with that,” I blurt out, and everyone on my side of the table starts laughing.
Okay, maybe I could have kept my mouth shut with that one.
Kristin’s grin shrinks to a smile, and Caiden’s eyes are on me with a heavy, searing weight. I don’t feel bad, and I won’t. So I look away.
“It’s nice meeting you, Kristen.”
“Same. Your mom was always sweet to me. I’m sorry to hear about her passing.”
She’s still smiling, sticking her hand out again, and actually dares to touch me on my forearm in condolence. I pull my arm away. “Thank you.”
I swallow down the hurt that my mom knew Kristen and the fact she knew she was dating Caiden yet never said a damn thing. Why does everyone in this town seem to think they’re saving me from something by withholding the truth?
A glutton for punishment, I ask, “How long have you two been dating? We didn’t grow up together, did we?” I don’t know her face, but the name seems vaguely familiar.
She smiles, revealing cherub-like cheeks. Another annoyingly likable quality. “Um, we’ve been dating a bit over a year now, right babe?” She turns to Caiden, who actually smiles when his eyes meet hers, and I hate that they might even twinkle the way they used to for me. He nods, confirming it before she continues. I want to vomit everywhere.
“I’ve only been here about two years overall. My parents were looking to transition to more low-key living. My dad is a property developer and bought some businesses. We moved from Denver. It’s been nice.”
I nod, smiling back. “PineCrest has its perks.”
She looks back at Caiden, grinning in admiration, then back at me. “It does.”
Did I mention I want to vomit?
I have to swallow the rising bile in my throat, and scratch my forearms to tame the sizzling nerves that rise to the surface of my skin. This moment has turned to agony, and none of this should matter. I didn’t come back to town for Caiden. The whole plan was to come for my mom, to conquer her business, and then to leave. Caiden was supposed to be nothing but an acknowledgment I knew I’d have to endure, but since seeing him, he’s been consuming me more than I’d like. But witnessing his bliss has me feeling foolish for all the emotions that have flooded me, and has me wanting to flee.
“Let me get you a beer, Baby Bird.”
Kristen chirps, “That’s such a cute name,” before turning to Brandon, “I want one too, plus some popcorn. Mind if I join?”
Brandon doesn’t hesitate. He nods and waves her on with ease. I love my friends for being careful with me with the situation, but it’s obvious that I’m the odd addition here, not Kristen.
She rises, turning to Caiden. “You want a beer, babe?”
He nods, and I pray to the sweet angels of my sanity they don’t kiss—
She leans down, obliterating my hope at composure when her lips press to his.
Before I can plan my sudden escape, Caiden turns to me, his eyes blazing apologetically once she’s out of sight, but I shift to look at Cameron, who wraps his arm around me, pulling me close.
But I shrug it off. Not because I don’t appreciate it, but it’s all too sympathetic for my liking. It’s like the whole world knows my pain and heartbreak, and it fucking sucks. I’m not losing. When did everyone decide this whole thing is my loss? It’s not. At least, I don’t think so. Life happens, and I WILL suck it up and deal with it, even if it hurts.
“She seems nice, Caiden,” I say, offering a small lift of the corner of my mouth as I release a pent-up breath. He nods, unsure what to do with my words. “Now,” I nod. “Seeing as we’ve all gotten over that moment, does anyone know when my mom’s thing is?”
Everyone is staring at one another as if dumbfounded. Are they confused that I want to brush the fact Kristen is Caiden’s girlfriend under the rug? Or what?
I wish Caiden wasn’t the one who responds, but he is. “I wanted to talk to you about that. They’re gonna do the memorial at seven, and then I’m gonna go up and speak, and then, if you want, it’d probably be nice for you to say something, too.”
“What?” I squeak, my mouth hanging open. This night is too much. Why is this town constantly testing my emotional limits?
I tug my phone from my pocket and take a look. “Oh my God, that’s in fifteen minutes. Why didn’t you say something about this before? You’re speaking? I, uh, I don’t know what to do right now. Where the hell is my beer?”
CeeCee is at my side in a moment, shoving Cameron out of the way, which has him rolling his eyes as he says, “What if I’m the one Hailey needs? It’s possible.”
CeeCee presses her palm to his face, pushing him away, causing him to erupt into laughter.
At least this has me smiling.
My eyes lift to CeeCee’s. “I can’t do this,” I quip.
“You don’t have to,” she replies with a comforting shake of her head.
Her words have my face twisting tightly like I just sucked on a lemon. “Uh, yeah I do. If this jerk-off over here is going to speak, then I should.” I pause, turning to Caiden, confused a moment. “What are you doing saying something about my mom, by the way?”
He shrugs. “I thought I was a jerk-off?”
“You still are. Why, Caiden?” I repeat.
“She’s important to me.” He shrugs.
My chin falls, and no one needs to know I’m staring down at my heart, trying to tell it to calm the fuck down. I have no words.
CeeCee’s hands come around my face, squishing my cheeks together in the most unattractive manner as she lifts my stare to hers. “You got this. You’re a writer. Words. All you need are words.”
Did she not just get the memo that I have none of those, hence my silence?
Her compassionate glare has me considering she might slap some sense into me soon.
“Okay, okay, I got this,” I gulp down.
The silencing music and the screeching mic has my head perking up. I see the old fire chief, Dean McPherson, walk up to the podium, and when he shoots me a smirk and a confirming head nod, I swivel back around to Caiden, who is feigning his own look that’s almost a smile but a downright guilty one.
“So, McPherson might think I’ve already told you about speaking tonight,” he blurts out.
“What! You had all the time in the world to tell me, Caid. This is really sudden, and it has to do with my mom. I don’t appreciate this being thrust on me.”
He at least has the decency to droop at my words. The realization that this isn’t fair to me, hitting him. “Sorry. I should have said something about this earlier, but to say I had all the time in the world is a stretch. Don’t forget I got distracted by saving your house from burning down.”
CeeCee’s head whips in his direction. “You what?”
Brandon appears holding two beers. I leap upward, hating the moment and the fact I’m overheating with embarrassment.
“I need!” I grab the beer and begin a hard chug.
Kristen is gliding, or walking, or whatever behind him. She sees me chugging and laughs, and I think she says something to me, but all I can hear is the gurgle of my own throat as I wave her off, needing this long, hard drink. She floats by, and her hair wafts this overly sweet smell that has me thinking that’s what Care Bears might smell like, and how can you hate a Care Bear when they’re so damn nice?
Chug. Chug. Chug.
“Martha Elwood touched everyone’s lives. If she wasn’t smiling at you across the street, or serving you her famous pie at the diner, she was always a phone call away to be there to help. But she won’t be forgotten, and we hope her legacy lives on with Elwood’s. She will be missed, but never forgotten.” Dean sighs from the stage, taking off his baseball cap to wipe his forehead before turning my direction to say, “A face I’m sure you remember, a girl Martha couldn’t stop talking about is also here, and we’d love to invite her on stage to speak.”
I pull the beer from my lips, handing it blindly to Brandon. Everyone’s staring, and did I mention earlier that I could vomit everywhere?
Caiden rises from his seat and is at my side in a second, placing his hand against the small of my back, causing this electric current to ignite the movement of my body, like Victor Frankenstein to his creation. He lightly pushes me forward and walks me to the stage. I smile nervously and tell myself not to cry.
As my boots hit the steps, I remember I have no idea what I’m going to say, but there’s no going back now. I don’t need more reasons for this town to talk.
I left my mom and this town, and they probably hate me for it.
Okay, let’s not think like that right now.
Dean walks over to me, wrapping his thick, burly arms around me, his protruding gut also slamming against me, tenderly hugging me close.
I will not cry. I will not cry.
I can still feel Caiden’s hand at my back, but when I’m released and walking of my own accord to the mic, his touch is gone. I’m on my own.
From only five feet above, I realize that the crowd really is the whole town. I try to smile, but I can’t tell if I’m succeeding.
Everyone is smiling back at me, at least. This gives me the boost I need.
I clear my throat as I lift my hand up to the mic, as if to test if it’s real and tangible.
Okay, yup. It’s real. This is not a dream.
“Hello, everyone. It’s been a while, huh?”
A tiny hum of giggles swiftly moves through the crowd, and it’s more of that comforting boost I need.
“I’m Hailey Elwood, I’m not so prepared for this, and ironically enough, I feel like that rings true for this situation and losing my mom.” I lick my lips, finding my words more overwhelmingly honest than I intend, but it feels right, so I run with it. “A lot of you might know that I up and disappeared about five years ago, and it wasn’t because I was running away, but instead pursuing a dream I had always wanted. If you knew my mom, she was always a curious sort of creature, and I totally credit her with my own mental wanderings. That being said, she may not have understood my dream, but she could see it was what I wanted, and without understanding it, she pushed me to go for it. For her, my dream was like her wanting to open the diner with my dad all those years ago. She saw it as happiness, as passion, as something I needed to do as a person. And I think anyone who knew my mom knew that she was a person of passion. You could see it in the way she ran the diner and interacted with each and every one of you. Leaving was hard, for many reasons, but to come back and see that she was so loved is incredible. And I know my mom would hate it if I got all mushy, but I thank all of you each and every day for being here and loving her as much as you did in person, because it was so hard to do that being so far away. She was in good hands, and I’ll forever be grateful. We will all miss my mom. There’s no doubt there, but to know that she leaves such a legacy of smiling faces is enough for me to think she left happy. Thank you.”
Applause. Tears. Hoots. Hollers. I hear it all.
I smile. I cry. I think I even hear a “We missed you, Hailey” somewhere in the crowd.
I pull in a deep breath, wiping the corners of my eyes, getting a grip, thinking this wasn’t bad at all. I feel this odd sense of relief embracing my mother’s memory so openly. My heart feels raw, but the ache is sweet.
I turn around, and it shocks me when I walk into a rock hard Caiden, whose arms come around me in one swift move.
Whispers soon gather in the crowd, but I can’t stop my deep inhale with my nose pressed against his chest, basking in the comforting squeeze. He’s always made me feel safe. It’s the perfect BAND-AID to my wide-open heart, and the fact it isn’t stinging is a strange thing to wrap my head around.
My mind and body are so fickle when it comes to Caiden. Hot or cold, sweet or sour, regardless, it always seems perfect for whatever moment we share, and I wonder if that will ever go away.
When he releases me, my mind is fuzzy with feels, but soon clears as I rush off the stage, needing distance.
Reality is hard to define nowadays.
I rush back to the table, and like caring parents, Brandon and CeeCee reach out, pulling me between them, both their arms thrown over my shoulders. I have a picture of this exact thing when we were kids, and I think back on when life was simpler as I rest my cheek on CeeCee’s shoulder, taking a deep breath in unison with Brandon’s gentle, cajoling squeeze.
Caiden walks up to the microphone, and the whispers haven’t ceased. I wonder what this town makes of me being back. We were high school sweethearts, but I pray that isn’t front-page news for this place anymore.
Caiden taps the mic as if checking it’s working, even though he knows it is. He towers over it, needing to lean down to speak. He tugs on his bottom lip first before gruffly starting with, “Hey folks. It’s a beautiful night for a beautiful soul, right?”
I squint as I watch him careen the crowd’s emotions into full-fledged applause. My eyes examine his thick stature, and I think, Where has the time gone? And Why does he fill out that shirt so well?
“It’s no secret that Martha was like a mom to me. When I was in elementary school and I had the sniffles, she made sure I had cup of soup to go for lunch, and even in the most recent years she’d give me hell about taking care of myself and still deliver soup to me at the station. She had too good a heart, and she cared about people more than I could ever understand. She talked me through my lows…” Caiden’s eyes flicker in my direction for the first time and my gut plummets. “… but she was also always the first person to congratulate me on the highs. I’m not only losing a close friend, I’m losing my family and a piece of me with her. She’ll be missed, and like Hailey said, her legacy lives on in all of us, and I’m sure we’ll never forget her, especially with her pie becoming practically a point of celebration in this town.” Solemn, understanding chuckles and giggles erupt from the crowd. “Thanks for showing up this evening. If I know Martha, she’d probably be smacking me upside the head by now, telling me you’re all here to dance and not to cry. So, let’s start up that band again.”
