The Way Forward

by Eliana West

  “Twenty,” Callie sighed. “I paid all the fines, but I couldn’t convince him to finish the job. He said it wasn’t worth all of the trouble.”

  So far, between Dax’s mother and the sheriff, they’d run off seven contractors from two counties.

  “I’ll never understand how she became the queen bee around here.”

  Callie thought for a moment. “Grandpa was one of the only people who ever really stood up to her and now that he’s gone…”

  “And she hated that. She doesn’t like anyone who she thinks doesn’t ‘know their place.’” Mae crooked her fingers in the air. “The fact that you’re rich pisses her off even more. I know you think standing up to her will make it worse, but I think you’re wrong. That woman is so stuck up she’d drown in a rainstorm. She needs someone to show her what’s right.”

  “You’re right, but I’m trying to follow my grandparents example and not fight hate with hate; that doesn’t solve anything.”

  “We all miss them; they were such good people.” Mae gave her a sympathetic look.

  “I think about Grandma and Grandpa every day,” Callie whispered. Would the pain of losing them ever lessen?

  “They would be so proud of what you’re doing with the bookstore.”

  Callie smiled. “Grandpa would have been there every day helping.”

  “Have you thought of a name yet? Maybe we can come up with something that will honor our grandparents and piss off the dragon lady at the same time.” Mae smirked.

  “I was thinking of something simpler. How about The Bookworm?”

  “Ugh, that is so boring.”

  “Okay, smarty-pants, what’s your big idea?”

  Mae tapped her chin. “Hmm, how about The Book Nook?”

  Callie wrinkled her nose.

  “Okay fine, that’s not much better than The Bookworm.”

  Callie stared out of the window across the park toward the papered-over window of the bookstore and suddenly she sat up straighter. “We’re being too fancy.” There were four streets that created the town square: Magnolia, Pine, Main, and Spring streets, where the library and the bookstore were. “What do you think of The Spring Street Book and Coffee Co?”

  A slow grin spread over Mae’s face. “I love it.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Tillie called out from behind the counter, while a few of the other customers sitting close by nodded their approval.

  “We have a name. Now let’s focus on the important stuff.” Mae leaned forward with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Any luck finding the hot barista I requested?”

  Callie laughed. “As soon as I’m confident I can get the work finished I’ll place an ad. You can even help write it if you want.”

  “Wanted: hot barista for small-town bookstore coffee shop. Six five, broad shoulders, nice abs.” Mae ticked off her requirements.

  “Don’t forget the man bun,” she teased.

  The two of them came up with more and more ridiculous requirements for their dream barista until their laughter drew Tillie back to their table to add her own suggestions. By the end of dinner Callie leaned back with a relaxed expression, feeling content. As they wandered back across the park, she dared to be hopeful she might be able to sleep that night.

  But she jerked to a stop when the library came into view. “No!” she yelled, breaking into a run. Her periwinkle-blue bike rested against the front window where she left it, only now it was nothing but a bent and twisted piece of metal. She fell to her knees, running her hands over the broken metal. The vintage cruiser had been one of the last gifts her grandparents gave her before they died. What was left of the wicker basket barely clung to the handlebars. the remnants of the basket fell into her hands. Her grandmother had insisted that she needed a basket for the bike and had emptied out one she used for knitting so Callie could use. The basket had been ripped away from the hairpins her grandmother pulled out of her bun and carefully wove through the wicker to attach it to the handlebars. Callie still stopped to pick wildflowers to fill the basket the way she used to when she was little to bring home to her grandmother. Now her grandmother was gone and the basket was splintered into pieces just like her heart.

  “Come on, I’ll put everything in the back of my car, and let’s get out of here.” Mae grasped her hands pulled her to her feet and into her arms.

  Together they put the twisted and broken pieces in the back of her Jeep. She sat in Mae’s passenger seat while her tears fell, she didn’t make a sound, unable to find a voice for her sorrow. It was just an object, but it kept her connected to her grandparents every day she rode it. Now it was gone. Grief was a funny thing. You thought you’d done all of the grieving you could do and then it came back with a force that took your breath away.

  Chapter Five

  Rocks pinged against the metal of the old green tractor as the scarlet-red Jeep skidded to a stop. Dax watched Mae Colton from Uncle Robert’s porch as she jumped out and marched up the stairs with her eyes blazing. “Uncle Robert.” She nodded without stopping.

  “Evenin’, Miss Mae.” Robert tipped his baseball cap as Callie’s cousin made a beeline for Dax.

  She shoved him with both hands. “Dax Ellis, I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re playing, but you will not hurt Callie.”

  Dax held up his hands. “I swear, I’m just trying to start over.”

  “Trashing her bike and giving her nightmares isn’t starting over, Dax.”

  “Wait, her bike? Nightmares?”

  “What happened to Callie’s bike?” Uncle Robert asked.

  “When we came back from having dinner at the Catfish it looked like someone,” Mae said with a pointed look at Dax, “had run over Callie’s bike. The frame was all twisted and bent.” She turned to Robert, her voice breaking. “You know how much that bike meant to her.”

  Uncle Robert nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I know you want to blame him, but Dax was here with me last night.”

  Mae crossed her arms and glared at Dax as if she were wishing he was nothing but a pile of ash at her feet. “Her grandparents gave her that bike.”

  “How long has she been having nightmares?” he asked, dreading the answer, but he needed to know.

  “Ever since you came back,” she said fiercely.

  Dax held his breath, air bottled in his lungs.

  “You have no idea how badly you hurt her, do you?” Mae asked.

  “I was horrible, and I know it. But I guess I didn’t understand just how much harm I caused. I hate that she’s having nightmares because of me.”

  Dax pointed at his uncle. “Did you know about this?”

  Uncle Robert ran his hand over his shaggy hair. “I didn’t realize Callie was having nightmares again.” His voice was low and gruff.

  He slapped his hat back on, pulling it low over his eyes and stepped off the porch heading toward the cornfield. Dax tracked his uncle until he disappeared into the green stalks.

  “Is this fucking Field of Dreams?” Mae muttered under her breath.

  Dax stared at where his uncle disappeared. “As long as I live, I’ll never figure that man out.”

  Mae snorted. The two sat in silence, watching the corn sway in the breeze. In another week or two the stalks would dwarf him.

  Eventually, Dax turned to Mae. “I didn’t have anything to do with the bike. I want you to know that I’ll never do anything to Callie or anyone else. I’m not the little shit I used to be.”

  Mae propped her foot up on the chair, resting her chin on her hands folded on top of her knee. “The thing is, the damage has already been done.”

  “I’m sorry about the nightmares. If I could go back and change the past, I would. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret…everything.”

  “Good, you should regret it.” She tilted her head toward him. “You made life miserable for a lot of folks before you went away. And your mama picked up where you left off.”

  “I’m sorry about that too. I didn’t know ho
w badly my mother’s been behaving, I guess I didn’t want to know.”

  “Parents can be embarrassing.”

  “What can I do for Callie?”

  “Well…lookin’ at Callie the way you were yesterday isn’t going to help. Especially if your mama catches you looking at her like a lovesick puppy the way I did.”

  Dax cleared his throat and took a long drink. Mae got up and leaned against the porch railing. With a flash of red, the cardinal announced his arrival.

  Dax pointed to the bucket of peanuts. “You’ll make a friend for life if you give him some.”

  Mae plucked out a peanut and made a show of holding it up for a moment so the bird could see the treat before she threw it just a few feet in front of the porch. Another burst of red feathers and the cardinal grabbed the peanut, cocking its head to study them for a minute before flying away.

  Mae laughed as she watched her new friend dip and swoop through the sky. “Cocky little bastard.” She turned her focus back to Dax. “And what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “You’re not the same arrogant ass you used to be, so what happened?”

  It was a relief to know that at least one person besides his uncle could see the difference. Dax ducked his head. One compliment wasn’t going to change everything—he still had a lot of people he needed to make amends with—so this was the first few feet of a marathon, not a sprint.

  “How about some sweet tea?” he offered.

  Mae nodded, and he made his way into the house. He slumped against the counter, running his hands through his hair. At least Mae was willing to talk to him, but Callie—he may be the one who gave her nightmares, but who the hell would trash her bike? He straightened up and pulled a pitcher of tea from the refrigerator and grabbed two glasses and brought everything back to where Mae waited.

  She took the glass he offered and took a sip, nodding with appreciation.

  Dax reclaimed his spot in the rocking chair next to her and took a few sips before he began. “After high school, Uncle Robert pulled some strings and got me into Virginia Tech.” He stopped rocking. “Those first few months were a shock, but I discovered I liked computer programing, and eventually one of my instructors recommended me for a special program.”

  “Special program?” Mae said, using air quotes.

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s not something I can really talk about.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” Mae leaned forward conspiratorially. “For as long as I can remember, the rumor around here has been that Uncle Robert is ex-CIA.”

  Dax schooled his features into a blank expression.

  Mae’s eyes grew round. “Oh.”

  Dax set his drink down. “Sorry, I can’t divulge state secrets.”

  Mae cocked her head, studying him. “I didn’t expect you to be so…thoughtful.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not right, maybe nice, no that’s not it either. I guess I thought you would still be an arrogant little shit.”

  “I grew up, I had a chance to travel and see more of the world, and learn about other people and cultures.”

  “We’ve all grown up, but it’s more than that. You’re not angry anymore.”

  “I don’t remember being angry.” His mother had been constantly berating his father and showed cold indifference toward his brother. Was that what he felt: anger? “I guess I was angry, about a lot of things,” he confessed.

  “But why? You were the golden boy.”

  “That’s why. I didn’t want to be the person my mother wanted me to be. I hated that she doted on me but sent my brother away.” He was about to admit a truth to Mae that he had not admitted to himself. “I always had this fear that if I didn’t make her happy, she would send me away, like she did to Reid.”

  Mae sucked in her breath. “That’s heavy stuff, Dax.”

  “Yeah, I guess it is,” he said, with a shaky laugh.

  “Honestly, I forget that you even have a brother. Where is Reid now?”

  “He’s been living in Chicago, working in the DA’s office.” Dax got up and leaned against the railing. He’d tried over the years to get closer to his brother, but Reid could never spare the time, or he didn’t want to. Since their father’s death, he’d become even more distant. “I hope I can persuade him to come home for a visit now that I’m here.”

  Mae frowned. “You’re still not close?”

  “I’d like to be, but Reid is so closed off now. I’m going to keep trying though, just like I’m going to keep trying with Callie.”

  Mae shifted in her seat. “I’m still not sure how I feel about that. Callie is my best friend, and she’s had enough hurt in her life.” Mae got up and grabbed another peanut, throwing it to their patient friend. “It’s been hard since her grandparents died. Why she chose to live here, I’ll never understand. Don’t get me wrong, I love having her here, but let’s face it, there are some parts of this country where people would prefer that people stick with their own kind, on both sides, and when you’re mixed, it makes it harder. Some of my own relatives don’t accept Callie. It’s not easy. Especially…”

  “Especially after the way I treated her,” Dax finished for her. “I hate that she’s having nightmares because of me. I swear to you, Mae, I’ll do anything to make things up to her.”

  Mae raised an eyebrow. “Anything? Then how about you get your mama to lay off?”

  Dax clenched the railing. “I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises. I don’t know that anyone has ever been able to tell my mother what to do.” Not even my father, he thought. Dax could count on one hand the number of times his father ever stood up to his mother. The worst fight he ever witnessed between them came on the day his brother was sent away.

  “You’d be right about that,” Uncle Robert said, stepping back up onto the porch. “As long as I’ve known her, she wanted what she wanted when she wanted it.” Robert reached into the bucket of peanuts to scatter a handful in the yard. The cardinal swooped back in, hopping from nut to nut with excitement. “She was always so busy wantin’, she didn’t take the time to appreciate what she had. My sister-in-law is a hard woman and I’m sorry to say a bigot. She comes by it honestly. Her family has always held tight to their belief that they were from the superior race.” His gaze landed on Dax. “I know it hurts to hear it but I ain’t gonna pretend she’s anything different. It’s not about getting her to change—you’re going to have to change how you deal with her. It ain’t gonna be easy. Are you prepared for that?”

  “I am,” Dax replied as if he were making a solemn vow.

  Mae clinked her glass against his in a show of support.

  “So…” She avoided eye contact, twirling her glass between her palms. “About those apartments you’re going to have in the Barton Building. I was wondering…well, I’d be interested in renting one.”

  Uncle Robert chuckled and wandered off again with a wave, muttering something about pigs having finally flown.

  “You’d be interested in living in my building?”

  “I’m twenty-eight years old, and I think it’s about time I found a place of my own. I’ve been working for Senator Weems for four years now and, assuming he wins reelection, I’ll have a job for another four. I don’t love the hour commute to Jackson every day, but I don’t want to live in the city. I guess I’m a country girl at heart.”

  “I can appreciate that.” He nodded. “Let’s talk about rent.”

  An hour and a handshake later, Dax had his first tenant. But he still hadn’t figured out how to make peace with Callie.

  *

  The dirty panes dulled the sunlight shining through the large arched windows on the top floor of the Barton Building. Dax turned in a slow circle, trying to visualize a finished space, and for the first time, he wondered if he’d taken on too much. After just a few passes with the broom, the room filled with so much dust he could barely breathe. The broom clattered to the floor and he went over to one of the windows. The ancient metal handle
screamed in protest as he wrenched it open. He leaned out, coughing as his lungs exchanged dust for the clean, sweet summer air.

  The top floor of his building gave Dax an eagle’s-nest view of the town square. A few people were wandering through the park, some sat on the steps of the gazebo eating their lunch while a group of mothers spread out blankets, setting out a picnic lunch while their children played nearby. His gaze strayed toward the library where the Jewels were sitting on the bench outside. Pearl’s hands gestured wildly as Opal’s and Ruby’s shoulders shook with laughter.

  Did anyone say or do anything to make Callie laugh today?

  The papered-over window of Callie’s bookstore caught his eye, and he counted the other empty storefronts in the square. Aside from the library, bank, and barbershop, almost every other space sat empty. Without more businesses moving in the town would die.

  He planned on doing his part to keep the town alive by investing in high-speed internet, not just because he needed it for his own business, but it would benefit others in town as well.

  He leaned out a little farther and craned his neck, squinting toward the steps of the town hall. His mother was pointing toward the library while the sheriff nodded.

  Dax frowned, he had a feeling whatever they were discussing wouldn’t be good for Callie. He was debating going down and trying to intercede when he saw the sheriff reach up and pat his mother on the shoulder. His hand lingered for just a moment, but it was enough to make Dax even more suspicious that something was going on between the two of them.

  His phone vibrated in his pocket.

  He looked down at the caller ID. He was tempted to send the call straight to voice mail, but the calls would just keep coming. “Hello.”

  “Dax,” the voice on the other end of the line squealed, “where are you? You were supposed to pick me up thirty minutes ago for Pamela Sue’s party.”

  His dull headache suddenly became blinding. “Presley, I told you I was not going to take you.”

  “But your mother said,” Presley began to whine.

  “My mother does not control my social calendar Presley.”