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Ansley
Seventeen Years Old
Isling the strap of my duffel bag over my shoulder and tiptoe down the hallway that runs from my bedroom to the kitchen. I unlock the sliding glass door that leads to the deck on the side of the house and turn back to look into the darkness of the house one last time before slipping out and quietly making my way down the twelve steps to the landing off the driveway.
Once I’m clear, I fish the small flashlight out of my purse and click it on to illuminate my way down to the end of the long gravel driveway.
I round the mailbox and take a relieved breath. I’ve never done anything like this before, and my stomach is in knots. I’m the good daughter. The responsible one of the family. My daddy’s pride and joy. I can’t imagine how angry he and Mom will be when they wake up to find me gone.
A truck tucked in the shadows beyond the tree line at the end of the lane flashes its headlights, and after looking back at my parents’ bedroom window once more, I take off running toward it.
When I make it to the truck, Garrett hops out of the driver’s side, and I run into his arms.
“Hey, Foxy. Am I happy to see you. Do you have everything you need?”
I nod. “I think so,” I answer as he releases me, and I step back, handing him my duffel, which is crammed full of essentials.
He cradles my face with his free hand and caresses my cheek. “Don’t worry. Anything that you forgot, we’ll pick up in Nashville.”
Nashville. A flitter of excitement slides down my spine. The farthest I’ve ever been outside of Balsam Ridge is Gatlinburg, and that was for my aunt Candy’s wedding when I was nine years old.
Daddy always said, “Why would I leave here to go on vacation when I’m surrounded by mountains and the Coyote River that runs through the valley?”
Garrett places my bag in the toolbox on the back of the truck and leads me to the passenger door.
“Are you sure you want to go with me?” he asks.
“Of course I do. I’ve never wanted anything else more in my life,” I tell him.
He smiles and then lays a quick kiss on my lips before he opens the door and helps me in.
He cranks the truck, and we slowly pull out from the trees onto the lane. He keeps his headlights off, and the glow of the parking lights guides us down the mountain. I watch as the lamppost that stands in our front yard fades off into the distance.
“Did you leave a note?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nah, but I told Weston, and he’ll fill Mom and Pop in, in the morning.”
“I left a note on my pillow,” I tell him.
“What did it say?”
“Just that I loved them and we were going to start our life together. I didn’t mention where.”
He nods. “I’m sure your dad will be on my parents’ doorstep in the morning, and they’ll tell him.”
“It won’t matter. I’ve made up my mind,” I assure him as I take his hand and entwine our fingers.
“Nope. He’ll just have an excuse to hate me even more than he already does.”
“He doesn’t hate you.”
He gives me a side-glance.
“Okay, you’re not his favorite person on the planet, but he’ll come around. Maybe not right away, but give him a year or two … or ten, and you’ll win him over.”
“I hope so. Can’t have my future father-in-law wanting to beat my ass every holiday.”
That makes me laugh, and then a yawn escapes me.
He brings our hands to his mouth and kisses my wrist. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you when we make it to the motel.”
I sigh. “Okay. See you in Nashville,” I say as my eyes flutter closed.
“See you in Nashville.”
