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“Or,” I begin. “We could skip it and I could stay home all weekend reading a book.” I say, pulling a book from my pile and waving it in the air.
Avery plucks the book from my hand. “First off, no. I haven’t had my best friend at a Fawn Creek Festival in years. You aren’t getting out of this, and I know you would be so mad at yourself if you missed getting to see your favorite singer performing downtown.” The fact that she knows me well enough to know I need to see this concert warms my heart. I have to admit, I need a little bit of fun in the middle of all this chaos.
“Besides, you’ll have that read before Friday, anyway.” She shrugs.
“It’s like you know me.”
“Just a little.” She says, plopping the book on the end table, on top of an ivory doily.
“If nothing else, I’m predictable.”
Chapter 11
Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!!
The sound jolts me awake from my deep sleep. In a panic, I sit straight up in the darkness and try to catch my breath. My eyes frantically search the bedroom for the source of the sound that woke me up. Surely it wasn’t an actual rooster. Since when do people have chickens in the middle of town? Maybe I was just dreaming about farm animals. That’s logical, right? It’s not like I’ve been getting much rest lately.
The scream of the bird pierces through the silence again. It’s so loud, I’m half expecting to find it perched on my footboard.
I climb from the bed and walk to the nearby window, pushing the heavy lace curtain aside. Startled by the rooster’s face looking back at me through the dirty windowpane, I jump back. He’s perched on something outside and it’s giving him the perfect boost to stand there and scream at me.
“Get down.” I yell, tapping my finger against the pane, being careful not to hit the glass too hard. “Go!”
Luckily, it’s just enough to scare him. The rooster flaps his wings and floats down from his perch, disappearing into the dim morning light.
I shuffle back to bed and climb under the blankets, burying myself as far into the pillows as I can, hoping I can go back to sleep. The old digital alarm clock on the nightstand brightly proclaims that it’s only 5:47 in the morning, and I don’t need to clock in for work until nine. Last night, I got just enough unpacking done to set up my new workspace amid all the chaos that is this house.
All I want right now is another two hours of sleep before I have to force myself to rebuild my life. Just as my eyes close and I feel myself drift off, the evil yard bird lets out another squawk as if he is trying to get in one last word. “Fine! I’m up!” I scream back at him, kicking off my blankets in what I will admit is borderline tantrum material. My first official day in my new house is already shaping up to be a nightmare.
Angrily, I climb out of bed, and move to the kitchen, stopping short at the coffeepot. It never crossed my mind yesterday to run to the grocery store and get coffee. Mom and Dad had come over and removed all the food from the house after Hazel passed, to keep pests away, so the cabinets are completely bare. I ordered pizza for dinner last night but what I would do this morning never crossed my mind.
According to Google, Drip opens at six. I waste no time getting dressed and moving towards the door to head downtown.
I pull the door closed behind me and head towards my car in the driveway before I stop dead in my tracks. This is the first time in years that I can walk to where I need to go instead of driving across town. Drip and the rest of the downtown business district are only a few blocks away and the weather this morning is perfect. I might as well take advantage of a morning walk while the opportunity is there.
Without a second thought, I shove my key into my pocket and make my way downtown. As I walk, I take the opportunity to really examine the neighborhood for the first time. It’s quiet, and no one is out moving yet. Of course, it’s before six in the morning, so who knows what it’ll be like by this afternoon? Based on the lack of bikes, sidewalk chalk art and children’s outdoor toys, I assume that most of the neighbors are older, like Hazel. The street is filled with quaint houses connected by brick sidewalks. The yards are maintained and clean, every flower bed is full of fresh flowers and mulch. It’s neat and pristine.
I make a promise to myself that I’ll get out in the evening and try to make myself known to my neighbors. I know how people in small towns can be, and I sure don’t want them to be alarmed by seeing me coming in and out of the house.
Or, on second thought, I could hide inside my house until I leave again. That actually doesn’t seem like a terrible idea, now that I think of it. I mean, that would ensure that I can do exactly what I came here to do; rest, reset and get my shit together so that I can sell this house and move back to the city as soon as possible. Or some city… or really just any place that isn’t Fawn Creek. The more connections I make, the harder it’ll be to leave.
As I approach Drip, I frown at the open sign that still isn’t illuminated. I glance at my watch and confirm, it’s just after six o’clock. They should be open by now. As I get closer, I notice the vinyl lettering on the door states 6:30 as the opening time. Although I’m a bit frustrated about Google lying to me, I decide this is just a part of learning about my hometown all over again. I’ll just get in a bit of a longer walk and then grab coffee on the way back to the house. I have a lot of work ahead of me today, so this is an excellent opportunity to get plenty of exercise and fresh air.
Besides, this is the perfect time to listen to an audio book. I pull my earbuds from my pocket and get ready to immerse myself in a romance novel for the duration of my walk. As usual, it’s just another predictable story about two people who realize they are in love after a decade of friendship, my favorite. Sweet and light, with a happily ever after at the end. I wish real life could be as predictable.
Elliott always made fun of these books. He enjoyed telling me how unrealistic the stories are, and how they create unrealistic expectations for women to hold towards men. I’d roll my eyes and brush off his comments, telling him to let me live my life. Sure, sometimes they are pretty unbelievable, but let’s be honest, the real world is terrible. At the very least, when I pick up a romance novel, I know that there will be a happily ever after at the end. If nothing else, it’s reliable, it’s safe. If only the same thing could be said for reality. Besides, it gives me hope that maybe one day, I’ll get a happily ever after of my own. Or maybe Elliott was right. Perhaps I’m just a hopeless romantic.
Fawn Creek is great in its own little ways. This is the town that raised me and it will always have a spot in my heart. It’s like a warm hug from your favorite person, but even hugs get annoying and claustrophobic after a while. Fawn Creek will always be home, even if I don’t want to actually live here.
I leave the business district and make my way towards the city park. The park is right at the edge of downtown and serves as a city gathering place just as much as a place for kids to play. It houses a pavilion, a gazebo, picnic tables and plenty of play equipment. There’s a wide sidewalk all the way around the square, each lap measuring a quarter mile. This is a fact I remember well from when I was a kid and thought I was going to be a runner. It wasn’t long because I realized I hated running and I hated waking up early to get a run in before the heat of summer.
As I walk, more memories made in this park quickly come flooding into my mind. My sixth birthday party was in the park pavilion. I still have pictures of Avery and me with blue cupcake frosting on our faces and party hats on our heads. We played so hard that day and got so covered in sand that we had to ride home in the back of my dad’s pickup truck. Our moms wouldn’t let us into their cars.
Next, my eyes move across the park to the gazebo. It seems like just yesterday I took my prom photos over there. I had a date, some Steve guy I don’t think I ever spoke to again after that night. I took one photo with him, to be polite, but quickly moved on to taking photos with Avery instead. We took our own series of awkward prom poses, while Grandma Hazel played photographer. I don’t think I’d ever seen that woman laugh so hard as Avery and I quickly changed poses and made silly faces at the camera. My mother, on the other hand, was mortified. She told us we were causing a scene, and she went to sit in the car until we were done. I shake my head and sigh, thinking back to how mad she was at us. A scene? We were the only ones in the entire park and who cares what anyone else thought? We were just a couple of kids, and we were having fun while we could. I’d give anything to go back to those days now. Life was so easy and carefree. Now, everything is stressful and exhausting.
I finish my loop around the park and make my way back towards downtown. In that small amount of time, Fawn Creek has woken up and people are moving around. It’s Tuesday morning and the citizens with long commutes are already getting in their cars to head to work in the surrounding cities. I’ve always wondered why people lived here, but drove thirty to forty-five minutes to work. Why wouldn’t they just move closer to their jobs? I suppose some of them love the community that much, but it’s hard for me to wrap my head around. Avery is one of those people. She’s tried to explain it to me a million times, but it’s a lost cause. I guess the people that get it, just get it… and the rest of us just pretend to understand.
Before long, I’m back in the heart of downtown and I find myself in front of the little vacant storefront once again. I look down the street and make sure no one is coming before I step closer and peer through the window. Lightly, I touch the doorknob and I feel butterflies flutter in my stomach.
