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I walk to the kitchen and make myself and Dylan a turkey sandwich because we didn’t get a chance to eat. “You can borrow some of my clothes if you want so you don’t have to sit around in those nasty wet ones. I’m going to shower,” I tell Dylan once I finish eating.
As I walk away, I catch him grabbing a beer from the fridge and realize he wasn’t kidding about day drinking. He tips it and opens it with a shit-eating grin. Shaking my head, I continue down the hallway to the bathroom.
While I’m in the shower, thoughts of River flood my mind again. Why didn’t I ever ask her for her number? Why didn’t I insist that we keep in touch? The more I think about it, the more I want to kick my own ass. Once I dry off and get dressed, I head into the living room where Dylan is chatting it up with Jackson, who’s wearing shorts and cowboy boots, looking more ridiculous than normal as he drinks a beer.
“You know Mama is expecting us at six, right?” I tell him, glancing at the bottle.
“Yeah, John told me…so?”
I don’t dare argue with him while he digs his own grave. Instead, I plop on the couch and watch TV. I’m so lost in my own head I couldn’t tell you what’s going on.
“I’m going to look her up on Facebook,” I tell Dylan, loud enough for only him to hear.
“No, it’s not a good idea. Like I’ve told you before, if she wanted to talk to you, she’d call you. Simple as that. You’re just setting yourself up to be let down. So why even go there?” Dylan hounds me much like he has before, but I don’t give in this time. “Don’t. Give me your phone.” Dylan holds out his hand.
I flash him a look and refuse to give it to him. “But what if she lost my number? Or what if she lost her phone? There are a million different scenarios that could’ve happened. I know what we had was more than just a fling. I know it was,” I tell Dylan.
“A hundred days later and you’re still hung up on her. That pussy must’ve been good. That’s all I’m saying,” Jackson adds from the kitchen.
“Shut the fuck up, Jackson!” I yell back at him, not needing his side comments.
He stalks into the living room and sits on the couch next to me, grabs the remote and flicks through the channels. Pulling up my Facebook app, I look at the ridiculous picture I have on my profile of Dylan and fishing. It’s been way too long since I’ve been on my profile, so I decide to check my friend requests first to see if maybe she looked me up and friended me. There are women in there, but not the one I want.
My mind drifts to the first time we had a real conversation. Dylan was still in the hospital, and I knew I had to speak to her. After formally introducing ourselves, I was lost in her trance as she grabbed my hand and we sat there together, frozen in time. That was the first time I felt the electricity soaring between us. Her touch was like fire and set my body ablaze.
Sucking in a deep breath, I type her name into the search bar and wait for her profile to load. I scroll through several River Lancasters until I find her. As soon as I see her sweet smile, I’m frozen in place. I click on the profile picture of her and Natalie and can’t help but swallow down my heart as I see the tight black dress she’s wearing. They’re both smiling big, and by the decorations that fill the background, I can tell they were celebrating New Years. Damn. I wish I would’ve been there to kiss her as the clock struck midnight.
My finger hovers over the friend button. I suck in a deep breath, and it takes everything I have to close out of the app instead. As hard as it is, I force myself to leave our relationship exactly where it started and ended—in Key West.
A week passes and the rain does too, but the pastures hold water in some places, so it’s still a sloppy mess. After work, I go home and shower before driving into town and to the Main Street Diner. I’m in the mood for breakfast for dinner, and the diner has the best bacon and eggs in town. I might even splurge on a big slice of pie. Mama is busy baking for the ladies at church, and we’ve learned not to even ask about food when she’s baking for a purpose. So, instead, I decide to do my own thing.
As I drive across town, a stupid thought crosses my mind to message Natalie instead of River. She was tagged in River’s profile picture on Facebook, and I know if I messaged her, she’d at least be supportive, I think. She was always so eager for River and me to hang out, so I can’t imagine much had changed. However, the more I think about it, the more I realize how insane that sounds, even in my head. I don’t want to seem desperate or like a stalker, but ever since I found her online, it’s bothered the shit out of me.
