Page 11 of Meet Me in Ivy Falls

‘I’ll restore it right. Make it beautiful again.’

‘No, I need a promise because I’ve worked my ass off to breathe life back into the important houses in this town, and I don’t want you messing it up. Tessa has two daughters. I want them to know and see the history of their hometown. I want you to assure me that you’ll hire qualified people. Make the right choices in renovating the house, because I swear to God if I see another French Country knockoff I might just lose my damn mind.’

This was no joke to her and I wanted her to know I’d heard every word. I leaned in closer hoping she could see the truth in my eyes, but I quickly got lost in the curves of her soft pink lips. The way she could still perfectly arch her right eyebrow when she was irritated.

‘You have my word,’ I finally sputtered out.

‘Good. Maybe you can keep that promise.’

The hurt and anger in her voice was like a dagger straight to the heart. I had known coming back here would be filled with memories, but I had never anticipated the ache that would fill my chest as I witnessed how clearly she hated me.

‘I have to go.’ She cranked the engine over. It roared once and then sputtered out. The lines in her forehead multiplied as she turned the key again. This time all that filled the air was a sharp click like the engine wouldn’t catch.

‘Dammit.’ She flung her hand out and I quickly stepped back. Her thick boots hit the pavement and she stalked to the tailgate, pulling out a plastic step-stool. Stomping around to the hood, she set down the stool and then climbed up. A barrage of curse words flew from her mouth before she pushed up the hood.

When she’d first bought Sally Mae, I may have teased her once or twice about being so tiny she couldn’t see over the steering wheel. That joke, or any other kind of teasing, wasn’t going to fly now so I stayed quiet and moved in to stand beside her.

God, she smelled good. And the way her ponytail swung over her shoulder sent me back to the days when we’d ride our bikes around Ivy Falls in the summer. Try to trap fireflies in glass canning jars at night. From a young age, even before we started dating when we were fifteen, we never left each other’s side. Now she could barely stand to look at me.

‘Carburetor again?’ I managed to push out over the catch in my throat.

‘No. It’s the damn spark plugs.’

She turned a few knobs, her fingers going slick with dirt and grease. Every move she made she did with confidence and it was hard not to smile. I’d forgotten how much she loved this old truck. How she’d worked every summer, saved every single bit of birthday and Christmas money to buy it from Mr Lathan’s widow after he passed away. The day it clunked and sputtered into the driveway of Huckleberry Lane she wore a smile brighter than any sun I’d ever seen.

‘I can’t believe you still have Sally Mae,’ I said.

She continued to push and prod more wires. ‘Some of us can’t throw away the past so easily.’

Another zinger I totally deserved.

She kept huffing and cursing as she worked around the engine. I felt like a useless ass standing next to her with my hands shoved into my pockets.

‘What can I do to help?’ I said, even though I didn’t know a damn thing about cars.

She snorted like she remembered that fact too. ‘Climb inside the cab and wait until I tell you to turn over the engine.’

‘Okay. Yeah. I can do that.’

I rushed around to the open door and crammed my body inside. The floor carpet was a muted black. An aftermarket radio took up a small part of the dashboard. The blue two-toned bench seat still had a split down the middle. The memory of Torran and I making out in that exact spot in a secluded area by Lake Rainer shot a lick of heat through me.

‘Try it now,’ she said.

I gripped the key and cranked it right. That faint click moved through the air.

‘Stop,’ she ordered and I eased back into the seat. Sitting inside the truck was like being in a time machine. Every gouge in the upholstery, small crack in the windshield, was a reminder of the days we’d jump in Sally Mae and go anywhere just to be alone.

The truck bed was still a faded baby blue with flaky paint hanging off the sides. My eyes scanned for the old purple sleeping bag she kept in the back for when we went stargazing. All that was there now was a ladder hitched to one side and a faded red toolbox. Another reminder that she’d grown up. Moved beyond our time together.

‘Try it again,’ she said.

I turned the key. There was a low clunk followed by a guttural sputter before the engine roared to life.

Torran pushed down the hood, threw the stool in the back, and returned to the door. A thin stripe of oil covered the edge of her jaw. I started to tell her about it when she motioned for me to get out of the truck.

‘Sally Mae hasn’t changed, has she?’ I said, taking my time to slide out. Do anything to delay her. Make her stay and talk to me for a while longer.

‘Nope.’ She climbed back behind the wheel and slammed the door with a heavy clunk. ‘A lot of things in Ivy Falls refuse to change.’