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“Why have enemies?” I mutter.
“Really?” she says, annoyance in full swing in her voice. “That pity crap isn’t going to work with me. I love you, Adalynn, but sometimes you can’t see the forest for the trees. I watched him the entire competition, and his eyes kept darting to the same place. I can’t even count how many times he looked at that old elm tree.”
The elm tree is where I sit every year while the competition takes place. I’ve avoided it all day because so much has changed. I’m no longer the same girl who sat under it, watching him last year.
She mentioned Eastyn not participating, but, honestly, I was worried that she would be wearing a matching blue shirt, the same as Cash, and they’d smile at each other while they ran side by side. She looked like the type who could keep up with him, something I could never do.
“Maybe the two of you need a little distance from each other, but there’s nothing that can keep the two of you apart. Destiny doesn’t work that way.”
I want so badly to believe her, to let myself imagine a year from now and how things could be, but I’ve dreamed of so many things for so many years, and taking action is the only thing that makes stuff happen. The cards fall where they will when you’re the one holding the deck. I played my hand and lost.
Cash Tucker and Adalynn Tate were never meant to be, and the sooner I can accept that the sooner I can start putting the pieces of my heart back together.
“How many does she have left?”
I snap my eyes up to see Madison talking to Chandler.
He grins, a piece of seasoned taco meat on his chin.
“She said she was almost out,” he says, before tossing the last piece of one of Ruth’s hand-pies into his mouth, chewing with a wide grin.
“That old bag,” Madison mutters before turning back to face me. “This conversation isn’t over. I’ll be back.”
“Can’t wait,” I mutter unenthusiastically, a smile tugging up the corners of my mouth when her fast walk turns into a light jog when she sees several people arrowing toward Ruth’s booth.
“I take it everyone likes the hand-pies?”
I turn away when Eastyn speaks.
“Yeah,” Chandler answers her, having more manners than I can manage right now. “I know the bossman is going to be happy we grabbed a couple for him. See ya later, Ads. Save me some ice cream.”
“Would you like a cone now?” I offer, turning my attention to him as if Eastyn doesn’t exist.
If my mother or Robin saw how I was acting, they’d drag me behind the post office by my ear and give me a stern talking to.
“I need to grab a brownie from Hippie Jones first. I think it would go great with your ice cream.”
“Tell him you want one without sprinkles,” I mutter.
His smile grows and my lips threaten to do the same, but Eastyn laughs as if the joke was meant for her.
“We had that conversation last year. He knows he can’t sell those type of brownies any longer. He almost went to jail at Christmas for it,” Chandler says. “You do have vanilla, right?”
“I’ll save some for you,” I tell him.
“Have a good day,” Eastyn says. If I were a naïve person, I might believe the smile she gives me is genuine.
I consider the fact that I just might be becoming a hateful person when they walk away.
I miss Cash. I’ve told myself a million times that I would be happy just to have him as my friend, even if we can’t have more. I’ve promised to be okay with whomever he might date in the years to come. Before bed last night, I almost was able to convince myself that eventually I’d find someone I could love, who would love me the way I deserve, but the sight of her brought all of that ugliness right back to the surface. I know it isn’t fair to hate her without even knowing her, but I can’t seem to help it either.
I can’t count how many times I see Cash walking around and talking to people. He gets a ton of slaps on the back, people giving him sad smiles and no doubt trying to encourage him after yet another loss against Hayes Campbell’s team from the fire department.
He grins and takes it all in stride. Cash isn’t a competitive man. He never has been. He’s always been the type to just be happy being able to participate. Winning isn’t required. If anything, he sandbags his abilities because he knows it means so much to Hayes.
He’s a lot like me in that fashion, someone who wants to make others happy, a people pleaser of sorts, even if it comes at his expense.
I turn my eyes away, finding something else to do to keep my hands busy as I fight the urge to go to him and apologize.
