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I waved her off. “No, it’s fine… I would rather not know.”
“Great, then let’s not dwell on it, and even if he does still live here, it’s not like you’ll have to see him.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” We both stood.
“You’re going to ruin your curls if you don’t go home and take that off.” I pointed to the towel wrapped around her head.
“Oh my God, I totally forgot to put any product in.” She ran past me, and I laughed as she flew out my door, slamming it shut.
I walked over and opened it, calling after her. “I missed you, Nora-Bora!”
Holding her towel, she half turned and yelled back, “Missed you, too, Rae Bae!”
Securing the bolt, I sagged against the frame, allowing my forehead to kiss the wood. So much had changed in the span of the past two weeks. Once I gave notice at my jobs, I gave notice to my landlord and then packed all my stuff. I didn’t have any need for any of the furniture I’d scavenged, so I asked Darrow if he wanted it. Turns out, he had a sister who did, so he had moved all the large stuff out. I packed my belongings in my suitcase, and then boarded a flight and left New York.
Slowly padding down the hall, I embraced the silence of the house and allowed it to cradle my tender heart. This place held so many memories. It all looked the same, but different. The living room had a new area rug, and the appliances in the kitchen had been updated, but everything else was the same. I looked over each photo frame and ensured my parents had not snuck in any photos of teenage me. They were still completely oblivious to the fact that I had taken all those pictures before I left and stashed them away. I smirked as I took in the two steps toward the cramped staircase that led to the top floor, where my parents’ bedroom and the master bathroom were. The narrow hall in front of me led to a guest bathroom, my mother’s office, and then—the last door on the left—my old bedroom.
Opening the door, I inhaled the faint smell of dust and a burst of something floral. Eyeing my small desk, I saw a small air freshener propped up, which explained the fresh scent. I stepped inside, the carpet still soft under my toes, the walls still filled with posters, awards, drawings, and pictures from different people and periods of my life. My queen-sized bed was made up with freshly washed blankets, with a small pillow in the middle that saidWelcome Homeacross it. Suddenly, tears clogged my throat as the heavy burden of living alone began to slip away.
I knew why I had left, but my parents hadn’t. Not once had I uttered a word about that night, or the years that had led up to it. I had a feeling Carl had never let it slip, either, otherwise my mother would have called me, or at least gotten on a flight and demanded I return home. In retrospect, leaving was a rash decision.
One that I had suffered for the past four years of my life.
Blinking away fresh tears, I tipped my head back and fell against the bed.
Peace was like concrete, filling in all the fissures and cracks that now outlined my life. Calm swept over me as I acknowledged I’d done the right thing by coming back, even if the humiliation burned like a soldering iron along my chest.
3
DAVIS
Heavy clouds,rimmed in navy and gray, hung over my workshop, making me eye the few pieces of work I had out drying. Weather forecasts weren’t very accurate for us mountain dwellers; it could forecast sunshine all day, but within the blink of an eye it could be snowing again. Made it difficult to really plan efficiently.
Heaving a sigh, I began dragging in the pieces I had just finished, hating that my space was so cramped. Half my warehouse was full of sold work I had yet to deliver.
My customers didn’t know any different, mostly because I put an extra two weeks on the bids just to give myself time to deliver. I never needed it, but there was always that fear in the back of my mind that I would disappoint someone.
I’d done enough of that to last a fucking lifetime, so if I could prevent it in my line of work, I would.
I stared over at the finished iron work and felt a pinching in my chest. Selling meant socializing, and if I hired someone to do it for me, the appeal of my small business model that so many of these people wanted would be forfeited. They wanted to support local; they wanted a personalized experience and were willing to pay extra for the perk of saying they had a “guy” for their new housing renovations or hotel remodels.
It worked in my favor, and yet it also actively functioned against me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t socialize. I just wasn’t precisely charming, as the people of Macon would say. Finesse wasn’t in my skill set, even when trying to make money.
Hearing the crunch of gravel creep up my driveway, I swiveled my head to track a large black Dodge making its way up the hill.
Gavin.
He was my best friend and biggest ball buster. Dude kept me in check, and while I appreciated it, I was in a piss poor mood. Didn’t even know why, couldn’t exactly pinpoint it… Every now and then, I just felt like a shadow hung over me. And while I could really dig into why that shadow existed, I’d been denying the existence of that shit for years and didn’t see a point in changing my ways now.
Parking his truck, my friend hopped out and walked over to me, tugging his hands through his straw-colored hair. Knowing him, he’d worn a hat all day.
“The fuck are these?” He gestured toward the artwork I was about to take inside.
I met him near the outlier piece and swung my head toward the bay door. “Help me move ?em in.”
He didn’t hesitate to grip the edge of the larger piece of iron.
“Seriously, since when do you do shit like this?”
