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“It’s better this way, really—I don’t know what would happen if he did, but I can’t imagine it would be productive. I’m through being hurt by him, and I’m through hurting him. I just need to go before I break anything else.”
“But you’ll come back, right?”
“Of course I will. I’m still running my half of things. I’ll just be heading it up from New York.”
“What about the bet?”
“It’s off. It’s been off for a long time, I think. It’s easier this way. I can do what I’ve been doing from the other side of the country and leave this part of it to him like I should have from the start. Anyway, this means you can come see me. I can take you to Zabar’s and Central Park and do all the touristy things you want.”
“I’d still prefer you here.”
“Me too.”
“Excuse me, Presley,” Mr. Blalock said from too far away to be polite. “If you’re through with your conversation there, I could use a top-off.” He wiggled his mug at her.
“Yeah, yeah, okay, all right,” she muttered before standing. “I’ll be back in a second.”
I looked down at the spread of food on my plate and felt sick. I’d had to force myself to eat, which wasn’t easy—my mouth was so dry, no amount of water could satisfy it. Food was either cardboard or mush. And the hollandaise sauce on my eggs did not look appetizing today.
I pushed my plate away and felt a manic tug in my gut to leave. To run away from the table. This town. The farm.
Jake.
I reached into my pocket for a twenty and left it on the table, waving to Presley on my way out the door and mouthing, I’ll text you.
She looked worried, but her hands were too full of dirty plates to do anything but let me go.
A hard swallow didn’t open my throat. A sniffle didn’t dispel the tingle of my nose. And as I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, I was left too alone to fight.
First came the tears on a wash of despair. Then came the sobs that shook my shoulders as I hung on to the wheel, unable to wipe the streams of tears from my face without losing control. They ran without interference down my cheeks to cling to my jaw until they were heavy enough to fall. I reached a pull-off and drove in, throwing the truck in park, curling in on myself.
My face dropped to my hands.
I let go of the tenuous hold I’d had.
The path of my life had taken a hard turn when Pop died, rerouting all traffic here, home. I’d thought this was a permanent place for me. That the road ended here, at the end of a long drive lined with ancient oaks. Maybe it would have.
But now it was time to go.
What I hadn’t told Presley was that I’d been frozen out by most of the farm. Only the barn animals and Kit were still sympathetic, but I saw the hurt in Kit’s eyes, the same betrayal written on everyone’s face. The cattle were blessedly safe, that particular problem solved. But on the matter of The Money, there was only one problem.
Me.
It was a long time before I pulled myself together, taking a good portion of that time to feel sorry for myself and mourn all my losses, all the way back to my parents. I’d been thinking about them a lot, Pop too. About how I didn’t realize that my life had been missing this. The farm. It was a piece of me that had clicked back into place the second we pulled into the driveway.
I knew what it was like to not have a home. But I’d found it again here, after ten long years adrift.
But the anchor had been pulled up and stowed, and it was time to float away again.
By the time I got back to the house, I’d composed myself, though a glance would tell whoever looked that I’d been crying. My plan was to hurry inside, climb into my bed, and empty myself of whatever tears might be left. I could hide there for a little while before heading to the store to show our new shop girls how to do the inventory. It would be fine. Everything would be just fine.
I’d convinced myself that was true until I saw Jake walking out of my front door.
Breathlessly, I parked the truck, and he watched me with blazing intensity hot enough to fry an egg. For a moment, I wondered if he was here to talk, really talk. Otherwise, he would have sent Mack to relay any messages. The fantasy played out in my mind—an apology, a declaration. Happy tears and his lips against mine.
I pushed the thought away as I climbed out, though I couldn’t let go of a little ember of hope.
