AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Sasha glues herself to my side. "Bye, Harper! I love you!"
Something inside me clicks into place, and I'm breathless for a moment. Deacon must notice my stunned expression, and he chuckles quietly. "Let's let Harper get back to work, Sasha." He reaches out, but I squat down and pat her cheek, replying with just as much sincerity, "I love you, too, Sasha-girl."
She flashes me an adorable gap-toothed smile, then lets go of me and rushes for the doorway. In sync, Deacon and I watch her go. Once she's out of sight, he turns back to me. He looks like he wants to say something, so I raise my brow and wait for him to speak. But in the end, he hesitates, opting to point instead to the jacket resting on my office chair. "Don't forget that. It's chilly outside. Anyway, I'll text you later," he says before heading out.
Once he's gone, I look up at the ceiling. Sasha's sweet words really did surprise me, but what surprised me more is how much I genuinely meant it. I do love her. "Geez," I sigh, scooping the jacket up and grabbing my purse. "What a sap I'm turning out to be."
I leave the resort and get into my car. Then I head for the graveyard where my parents are buried. It's empty at the moment, save for me. The groundskeeper must have recently visited, as the place is cleared of weeds and debris. I sit on the grass and toss my purse to my side, pulling my jacket up over my shoulders. My knees curl up to my chest, heels brushing the underside of my thighs. Beneath me, the soft, moist grass chills me through my dress slacks. I take in a deep breath, inhaling the rich scent of dirt and flowers.
This is my little tradition, something I do for myself every year. But this year, I have so much I want to tell them.
"Hey, Mom and Dad," I begin, waving at their headstones. "It's been a year. Shocking, I know. Time really does fly, huh?" I don't know why I speak to them this way, as if they're listening to me. Maybe it's because I want them to be listening. Sometimes it helps for me to speak as if they're sitting beside me.
Other times, it's better for me to be silent, thinking only of their lives and treasuring the memories I hold in my heart. "Can you believe we're already in spring again? I'm glad warmer temperatures are here. I never liked the cold as a kid."
The ghost of a laugh tugs at my lips. "Remember how I used to fight you every time you made me get the heavy coats and scarves out of storage? I couldn't stand anything that wasn't a t-shirt and shorts back then. I never did warm up to winter clothing, come to think of it. Always too bulky and restrictive, I suppose."
The wind shifts and I imagine they’re going to speak to me this time. When no voices come, I continue, "Well, Mom," I sigh, letting my eyes slip shut, "you aren't going to believe who is back in town and who has a kid." My belly tightens as I imagine the words she'd say if she were here.
"Deacon Reynolds," I say, keeping my eyes closed.
"Yeah, I can see your eyes roll all the way from here. I know, I know. You always did think I was trying to compete with him. How right you were. No matter how many times you told me you were proud of me or reminded me I was perfect just the way I was, it never really seemed to stick. All I cared about was how I measured up to him. Anyway, now he's in town and I've been helping him out with his little girl."
"She's a beauty, Mom," I say, talking more and more rapidly. "So full of energy. Kind of like someone else I knew." I pause, chuckling when no amount of digging around inside my braincan even remotely recall a picture of Mom doing anything less than energetically. "She just might be the most precious human on the planet."
The wind picks up again, tousling my hair, and I wrap my arms around myself. "And Deacon is different now, too. He kissed me, Mom. He really kissed me." I tilt my head back, allowing the sun, peeking through the cloud cover, to caress my skin.
“I don't know how to feel about him. Now, don't get all worked up, Dad. He was a gentleman about it. And, honestly, I don't think I even minded him doing it. Which is frustrating, because... well, you know. You guys wouldn't even recognize him. Still handsome, still strong, and still proud, but he's... nicer now, I guess? Sasha softened him up, I think."
In my mind, my mom stands on a chair, waving her arm and calling out, "That's it, baby girl! Go get that boy!"
I bark out a laugh, unable to stop the sound from escaping my lips. Still, though, I shrug. "We'll see, I suppose. There's still that old rivalry kicking between us, and that makes it hard, it's just complicated."
Slowly, I push myself to my feet, tossing my hair out of my face and wiping my pants of soil. "Well, I guess I'm going to go spend some time with the Reynolds clan. Say hey to Grandma for me. And you two behave, okay?" I blow a kiss into the air, wink, then wave goodbye to them. "I love you guys. See you next year."
As I walk away, I tuck my hands in my coat pockets, leaving my toes dragging in the soft grass. Despite what I said to Deacon earlier, I do wallow as I walk to my car. And I take time to breathe in the evening air. Truthfully, I feel better having gone. To me, coming here puts me in touch with my family, and sometimes that's just what I need.
Even if my parents can't respond, something about talking to their headstones still gives me a sense of clarity, of understanding. Maybe it's silly or sad, but it works, and it givesme the push I need to head to the restaurant to meet Sasha and Deacon without feeling like there's a brick on my chest.
As I drive, I can't help but wonder if Mom would agree with Bella's comments about my getting involved with Deacon. My friend seemed to think it was way too risky, but my intuition—Mom always said to follow that as far as it would lead me—tells me otherwise, now that I've had some time to think.
Daddy would've been on Bella's side without a doubt. He never cared for Deacon much. Whenever my mother would ask him why, he would only say that Deacon was someone who wouldn't hesitate to smash my heart into bits if given the opportunity.
I think he secretly knew that I had a little thing for Deacon at the time, despite our rivalry and didn't want to see me get hurt. But Mama always saw the good in people, always rooted for a love connection, no matter how doomed. I kind of envy that optimism.
Lost in my thoughts as I drive, I make the trip in almost no time at all. Before I know it, I'm sitting in the parking lot, gripping the steering wheel as I gather the nerve to go inside. I'm starting to think I'll never stop fighting against Deacon, but it's no longer just the competition, it's fighting the fall. And that's what terrifies me the most.
Chapter sixteen
DEACON
Sasha and I are sitting at a table in the middle of the only Italian restaurant in all of Greenwood, waiting for Harper. This place didn't exist when I was growing up, and looking around at the décor, I can understand why. It's got more of a city feel to it, rather than that of a small-town cozy.
The interior boasts a modern aesthetic with sleek lines and contemporary furnishings. On the walls there are photos capturing the images of Italy–rolling vineyards, cobblestone streets, and quaint coffee shops. A small vase of fresh flowers sits at the center of our table. The menu is a leather-bound masterpiece and showcases a variety of pasta dishes, wood-fired pizzas, and authentic desserts.
As out of place as this establishment is, there's a crowd, which tells me the food must be good.
As we wait, I catch glimpses of the open kitchen, where chefs expertly craft each dish with precision and flair. The sizzle of ingredients meeting hot pans and the clatter of utensils createa vivid atmosphere. Rustic piano and accordion music is being played by a band in the far corner of the dining room.
