I laughed and scratched behind Easton’s ears. He burrowed further into my lap and sighed in his sleep like he’d have bills to pay when he woke up.
No matter how much I tried to shake it, that text swam through my mind and steadily began to turn my stomach. I’d successfully managed to eschew intentional one-on-one time with my mom since I’d crash-landed home—most of that due to her long hours at the diner, and some of it thanks to my expert avoidance tactics.
Perhaps she finally wanted to get a straight answer about why I was suddenly occupying my childhood-bedroom-turned-storage-unit. Maybe it was something unfathomably worse.
Neither gave me any sort of comfort.
CHAPTER FIVE
2014
The fight was loud enough to rattle the glass in the kitchen cabinets. I sat just inside my cracked bedroom door, arms looped around my knees, trying to breathe quiet enough to disappear.
“I can’t do this anymore, Ruth.” My dad’s voice was sharp, and I flinched at every word.
“You mean you won’t,” my mom shot back.
I stared at the sliver of light outside my room until my vision blurred. My chest ached, but I didn’t dare move. If I moved, they might hear, and then it would be real.
The slam of the screen door in the back alley was so violent it made me jump. Then, silence. My ears rang at the sudden change, and suddenly, all I wanted was to hear the low rumble of their voices—even if it was arguing.
Arguing was better than nothing at all. And this felt final.
I waited for Mom to come find me—to say it was a mistake, and that he’d come back. All that came was the hollow click of the kitchen clock, and the thunk of their bedroom door closing. Quiet, as if she was resigned to it all.
My legs carried me out of my room and down the back steps before I could think.
It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d spent a few hours wandering the Cove or pacing up and down the alley. He would be out there, running two hands through his hair, muttering under his breath. Then he’d notice me and say, “Go to bed, sweet pea. I’ll be right inside—promise.” I wouldn’t fall asleep until I heard the clink of the door locking and his footsteps padding upstairs.
He wasn’t there that time. And neither was his car.
Something terrible swept through me, and I bent over as the tears formed rivers down my face. I didn’t know why. It all felt final.
The scrape of pavement made me shoot up. Teddy approached, hands in his pockets, hair sticking up from the wind. He must’ve heard everything on one of his late-night solo adventures. He didn’t say a word as he leaned up against the wall beside me.
For a long time, we stayed like that—two kids pressed against the wood, staring at the stars.
When I finally whispered, “He’s not coming back,” my voice ripped open down the middle.
Teddy reached over and took my hand, squeezing hard.
“Maybe he’ll be at breakfast in the morning,” he said, eyes glittering with hope. “You never know.”
That was the night I realized Teddy and I were fundamentally different.
???
PRESENT DAY
Iquickly finished slicing my banana and tossed it into the blender. Today’s schedule didn’t leave many gaps for anything—with Fallfest less than a week and a half away, preparations were in full swing. It wasn’t anything like the Summer’s End Festival a month ago.
Thatwas total chaos.Thiswould be a well-oiled machine.
Georgie had delegated most of the technical planning aspects to me—scheduling, informing someone if they’re being stupid, and tinkering with my precious Excel spreadsheets. With the booming business of her new pottery shop, she did what she was best at: making creative decisions and rallying the community together.
I, on the other hand, was doing an excellent job of fixating on the Fallfest so that I didn’t have to think about my burning trash heap of a life.
Perfectly normal and healthy. As long as no one told Candice.
