AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What did you do, Cash?”
The concern in her tone had me scowling at her. “What the hell are you thinking I did? I was young, stupid, and scared. We’d talked about getting married, but the night before I left for basic training, I broke up with her instead.”
Zin let out a gasp. “That poor girl.”
“I know. I handled everything poorly.”
I shook my head as I allowed myself to recall that time in my life. Self-doubt had plagued me at every turn. I’d been searching, trying to figure out what to do with my life. I’d had a short stint in minor league baseball, but after a season and a half, it’d been clear the majors were not in my future. It’d felt like a big, hairy failure.
At loose ends, with no college degree and no desire to go to school, I’d taken a job as a beverage distributor, driving a truck all over the region. The Honeysuckle Inn had been one of my stops. The attraction between Ava and me had been immediate, and we’d spent whatever time we could steal together.
“I still had a lot of growing up to do back then,” I told Zinnia.
“Did you purposely lead her on?” She narrowed her eyes at me.
“Of course not. I wasn’t conniving, just clueless. Part of me wanted to marry her and live happily ever after.”
“But the other part?”
“You know we open in twelve minutes, right?”
“Better finish the story fast then, Chef.”
I blew out a breath, wondering why I hadn’t hired a sous chef who minded her own business. Meeting her eyes, I cut straight to the chase. “I was worried I couldn’t be what she needed. Not long-term, not while I was halfway around the world on a ship. I didn’t know how long I’d be in. I’d like to say it was a selfless act, but I was just scared.”
“That’s fair,” Zinnia said. “It sounds like it wasn’t the right time.”
She made it seem simple enough, but I knew I could’ve handled it better. Like a man instead of a freaked-out boy. I’d been twenty-three. There was no excuse for it.
I was about to remind Zin of the time once again when she said, “It seems like you have regrets.”
Regrets weren’t something I spent a lot of time on, but…I shook my head. “I don’t know. Seeing her just took me back. The way she looked at me…” As if I was the dead-last person she ever wanted to see again… I hated that the most.
There wasn’t anything romantic left between us, but I couldn’t stomach the thought of being someone she dreaded running into. I stood abruptly. “I need to clear the air. Apologize for being a douchebag all those years ago.” I glanced out the office door to the kitchen staff, who were all on task and looked to have everything under control. “Are you okay handling dinner service?”
Zinnia’s brows shot up her forehead, and I knew what she was thinking—that I rarely skipped a dinner shift unless I had a scheduled event that couldn’t be avoided. I was thankful she only said, “Of course. Do what you need to do, Cash. You know I could handle this in my sleep.”
I nodded, thanked her, and brushed past her to rustle up some dinner for the woman who, years ago, often forgot to feed herself. Tonight, I was going to feed her and clear the air so I would be one less problem for her to wrangle.
Chapter5
Ava
Iwasn’t sure if it was late afternoon or early evening. Definitely still Monday. Grief had a way of wringing all sense of time and place out of a person, and it’d had its wicked way with me for the past few hours.
I’d spent the afternoon at the funeral home, working out the details for Aunt Phyl’s service with Loretta Lawson’s kindhearted help. I’d insisted on writing the obituary myself because how could I not? I was Phyllis’s last living family, and as a writer, I wanted it to convey the spirit of her life perfectly.
No pressure.
My aunt’s spirit was a beautiful, generous one and was intricately wrapped up in this inn and this town. Every word I wrote about her made me cry harder, and by the time I’d composed the last lines, my eyes burned and my chest hurt. I had zero tears left as I sat out on the balcony of unit number seven, watching the lake through the persisting drizzle. Number seven had always been my refuge of choice growing up. It was smaller than the other rooms, so it was usually the last one we rented out.
Apparently the weather thought it should take over where I’d left off with the tears, because the rain started pounding down and the wind gusted, changing it from a peaceful, soothing rainfall to the precursor to a storm. As if on cue, a knock sounded on the main door to the room, loud enough to hear through the open slider even with the rain.
I jumped up, worried it might be Halstead. While he’d Band-Aided this morning’s roof leak, he’d made it clear a new roof was a must.
I carried the notebook with the handwritten obituary inside and tossed it on the bed. Running my hands over my swollen, sore eyes to make sure they were no longer wet, I walked to the door and opened it…and blinked stupidly when I saw Cash standing there, soaking wet, staring down at me.
“Don’t slam the door on me,” he said, holding his hand out as if to block it if I tried. When I didn’t move, he held up a Henry’s bag, and I caught a whiff of fresh food.
