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Me: I’ll be there. You’ll have to do some running around with me though.
Chickpea: Better than being at home. Thanks.
Our mother passed away when I turned fourteen, and my sister, Amber, is two years older than me. In a spiral of sudden hurt, Amber ended up pregnant with Sophie shortly after. I became an uncle at fifteen. Ever since, she’s had a string of potential men to become her daughter’s new father. I try to be the best influence I can for my niece, as she needs to see how she should be treated.My grip on the wheel tightens as I head toward the office. I need to let off steam. My lunch break will be out in the wood shop chopping logs so I can clear my mind.
Chapter4
Emery
“What’syour story with my steamy contractor?” my aunt asks, falling next to me on the couch. My heart jumps to my throat and her now raised eyebrows and small smile tell me my face hasn’t hidden my shock. “Emery, I’m sure I can level with you.” She laughs as I rest the hot coffee on my tongue in hopes it disables my speech.
“He dated Hallie back in the day, but helped keep my mind busy when you were at school or studying.” I avoid her eyes. “He lost his mom too.” Hugging a pillow to my chest, I realize how much I shut my aunt out when she moved in to help take care of me. I had just turned eighteen, but I still needed to finish out senior year.
“Keep going.” Quinn’s eyebrows raise.
“It’s irrelevant.” My teeth dig into my bottom lip as she waits for more information. “Nothing happened between us, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”
“I’m here when you’re ready to talk about whatever it is you’re trying to suppress.” She sighs and thankfully drops it.
“Let’s bake those cookies you used to bring over when I’d start back at school.” I change the subject and stand, feeling out of place with the lack of time I've spent in the kitchen this past week.
“The fall delights?” She smiles, following me to the kitchen. “I forgot all about those. I haven’t made them since I was a teenager.” Aunt Quinn opens some drawers in search of the recipe. “I know I gave the recipe to your mom because you loved them so much.”
“Except she was always too busy working at the hospital to ever make them.” I wince, feeling selfish for wanting her to choose me over saving lives.
Baking cookies as a tradition was one of the many memories I wanted. Now, the opportunity to create any with my parents has been taken from me. My jaw clenches, stifling the urge to spew more negativity. Feeling the burn of tears begin to surface, I hold my breath to help keep them hidden. Aunt Quinn bites back her response as she continues to search through drawers for the recipe. I know she wants to agree, but she remains silent. Sensing my aunt's inner panic to appease me, I set the basic cookie ingredients on the counter and turn to face her.
“Relax, I’m sure we can come up with a similar version, if not better than the original recipe.” Pushing forward a smile, I take her busy hands in mine. “Seriously. I only remembered the cookies a few minutes ago. It’s not a huge deal.”
“Your mom and I used to bake all the time when we were younger.” Aunt Quinn’s smile is as soft as her features. My mother only wore that smile when she would tuck me into bed as a child. “Our parents were busy working at their clinic constantly, so she pretty much raised me since she was ten years older.” The generations of high-status doctors aren't as glorious as it sounds for their children––at least inmyexperience. I love my parents, but it’s hard to believe they loved me more than their job.
“I’m meeting Hallie and Savannah downtown for ice cream soon if you wanted to join us.” I break the silence after the ingredients are mixed together.
“Thanks, but I’ll have to pass.” My aunt scoops dough onto the tray. “My boss asked if I could come in a few hours early.” While I’m thankful for people dedicated to being there for others, I’m left once again after taking time offmyjob to see her.
“I totally get it.” My chest tightens as I set a timer while my aunt heads upstairs to get ready for work.
With the cookies fresh out of the oven and no one to share the first bites of warmth with, I leave the tray to cool and walk downtown. I text Savannah not to pick me up. The fresh air steadies my breath and refreshes my mind.
Feeling the warmth on my face, I let my eyes fall shut. But as Ian’s face appears behind my eyelids, I open them again. Seeing him after all these years was bound to happen. Especially since he’s friends with Hallie’s fiancé. It was only a moment we interacted, but my eyes etched every damn feature of his into my brain. I huff, kicking a rock on the pathway. How dare his features become more prominent with age. His dark, tousled hair and mysterious blues have matured in the best way. His voice held confidence without the cocky undertones of his younger self.
I spent too many summer nights talking to him and a tequila bottle, when I probably should have talked to someone more professional. But the healing process differs from person to person. At that time, I was keeping my mind busy, and he helped keep my stomach full by also teaching me how to cook. I was grateful for our friendship. He was a safe space for me. A guy who listened without expecting to get into my pants. But I let grief take over one night…and I needed a clean slate where no one knew me. Savannah’s name flashes on my phone screen. I ignore the call and continue the fifteen-minute walk downtown to clear my head. Perks of a small town––walkability. Moments later, a white Jeep comes into view.
“Emery.” Savannah's Jeep slows beside me. Detriments of a small town––you’re easy to find. “What are you doing?”
“I needed to clear my head.” I avoid her eyes as my teeth toy with my bottom lip.
“Please get in. Let’s talk.” I sigh, knowing it’s no use arguing. “You look exhausted.” Her brown eyes scan my face.
“Aunt Quinn is getting an outdoor kitchen and,” I pause to release a breath, “I bumped into Ian.”
“He and Rhett have had a company for a while and are planning to expand,” she replies as the downtown comes into view. “Pretty great, right?”
“It’s great.” A lot has changed over the years. Not that his name has left my lips since I’ve left this town. Hallie stopped mentioning him early on after I moved.
Savannah parks, and it’s not long before we’re picking Hallie’s blonde hair out of the people around town. She’s in her business attire, wearing a smile as she spots us.
“I’m so excited to spend the afternoon with you,” Hallie says, before she’s even reached us. “I was able to move my meeting an hour later, so I can spend a little extra time out and about.” Warmth carries through me at Hallie making time for me. “I’ve been craving the pistachio ice cream since I drove past the ice cream hut the other day.” I giggle, trying to lighten my mood.
