AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No, we never talked much at all. But I can remember Emmie telling me once or twice how you told her you hated Pine Ridge.”
“Do you ever talk to her anymore?” I ask. I can feel my smile falter.Damn.
“Who? Emmie?” she asks. I can see the look of pity slide across her face as she stares back at me.
I nod, frowning. I don't understand why she'd pity me.
“No, we never talk much at all. We...uh...grew apart."
Grew apart?Something in the heaviness of her tone tells me there's more to that than she's saying, but I don't push for answers. That doesn’t mean I like the sadness in her voice, however. I know Emily moved away, maybe that’s what makes her sad.
“It happens. It's been a long time since high school.” I feel stupid pointing it out, but I have no idea what to say next.
“Yeah. I hope you have a good time visiting your folks,” she responds, her tone clipped. She's dismissing me. I guess Emily didn’t exaggerate when she said Tillie didn’t like me.
“I’m sure I will,” I answer. I try to sound upbeat, but even I can hear the stress in my voice. I don't know who I’m trying to fool, but it’s not me, and by the look on Tillie’s face, it’s not her either.
I plaster on one of my baseball interview smiles, liking the tinge of pink coloring her cheeks as she tries to ignore it. “See you around, Buttons.”
“See you around, jerk.”
I laugh as I turn to leave the store. I'm about to climb in my truck when I realize I forgot to get the items that my mother sent me here for. I pull out the paper list she wrote from my pocket and sigh. I'm not going back in there. I’ll look like an idiot. I’ll just have to go to the wholesale place on the outskirts of town.
There's no way in hell I'm going to face Tillie and admit I forgot why I was there the minute Emily West was brought up. That's a long-lost memory that's best left dead and buried.
Tillie
I pull up to the Double M ranch and get out of my Bronco. For a minute I just sit in the vehicle and try to collect my nerves. I concentrate on my vehicle instead of where I’m at. I love Marilyn—which is what I named her. I’ve had her for a couple of months, and I still have to stop and look at my pretty, powder blue SUV sometimes—just because.
I splurged to buy it, but I saved money for a long time to make sure when I got it, I paid quite a bit down to keep my payments reasonable. I'm proud of it. Buying it felt like a huge achievement—one that I accomplished all on my own.
Today, however, Marilyn lets me down. She completely fails to calm my nerves. It’s not like I expected her to, not really. It’s more like this huge hope that something would–before I die of a heart attack. I don’t have heart problems that I know of, but I'm nervous about being here and I know stress is a major prerequisite to heart issues. Right now, I have that in spades. It’s so bad that I thought about skipping my yearly gift to Clara.
This is all Ryder’s fault. I haven't been able to function since he came into the store yesterday. I don't know what it is about that man that has always made me such a mess. I lose my mind around him. Yesterday made it clear that even after six years, his effect on me hasn’t gone away.Which is so ridiculous. It used to be just a schoolgirl crush, but I can't say that anymore. I haven’t been a schoolgirl in forever—unless you count the accounting classes I took at the community college.
It drives me crazy. I don’t know why I feel this pull towards the man. I mean it has never been reciprocated. Ryder never noticed me like that. I was just Emily West's pudgy, weird, friend-barely a blip on his radar. I never did tell him how I felt either because I had some misguided sense of loyalty to Emily.
Because I was stupid.
Would things have been any different if I had known back then what a complete bitch she was? Probably not, because regardless, Ryder didn't know any other girl was alive—especially not a painfully awkward, chubby girl who was way too shy.
It's not even like things are that different these days. I'm still what my mom refers to as pleasantly plump. God, I hate when she says that. I want to ask her never to use those words again. I’ve come to terms with who I am. And I don’t even try to diet anymore—mostly because they never work for me. There’s not a lot I can do to change who I am. My hair is still icky brown. I still can't get the courage to change that. I've thought about it, but I can imagine my father telling me constantly how unnatural it is, and chicken out. I know I have issues. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to get any better.
Besides, let’s be honest. It's not like I have guys falling at my feet to make the change worth it. The one guy I dated, Keith Gordon, was a great guy, but I'd be lying to myself if I said it was the kind of romance that novels are written about. It was honestly boring, and that's why we broke up.
We had sex, but I rarely enjoyed it. For all I know, that makes me frigid. That's been a worry on my mind since that word popped into my head after a not-so-great night in bed with him.
I push the thoughts aside. I'm off today and wanted to come by, but I purposefully waited until later in the day to arrive. Mr. Monroe will have all the boys out working on the ranch today- including Ryder, and that works just fine for me. I want to avoid him at all costs. With a deep breath, I get out and walk to the back of Marilyn, opening the back hatch with my key fob. I reach inside to grab the gift bag. Its shiny metallic teal with matching teal and white crepe paper sticking out artfully at the top. It took me longer than I want to admit arranging it.
I grab the box beside it before heading toward the old farmhouse. I make it all the way to the front door when I realize I need to shift everything to ring the doorbell.
“Whatcha’ got there, Buttons?”
I scream, my whole body jolting as a voice behind me scares the crap out of me. I let go of the box so I can fumble with the gift bag and watch in horror as it goes sailing through the air. Ryder reaches out and snatches it, but he’s not gentle about it. His large hand presses down on the cardboard and I swallow with instant regret. I want to cry. I worked so hard…
This ishisfault.
“What are you doing sneaking up on me like that? You likely just ruined your mother's cake.”
