Hey y'all. Do you guys like having longer chapters with longer update periods? Or do you want shorter chapters but quicker update periods? A couple people have pm'ed me asking to do shorter chapters but update quicker. Just thought I'd throw that out there.
Also, 140! READS! YAY! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH AND PLEASE KEEP IT UP I APPRECIATE IT SO MUCH!!!
Happy reading!
↔↔↔
I wasn't at the festival much longer after I found Wes, Bobby, and Tommy. I couldn't find it in me to be happy when I was literally a seventh wheel. They were all surrounded by who they loved, and who loved them back. Call me selfish, but I couldn't be around it any longer, so I left with a sorry excuse of being tired.
I got into the Escape and closed the door behind me, feeling empty yet restless.
I don't know where it came from, but a sudden buildup of energy and anxiety has me feeling claustrophobic in the small car. I slammed my hand down on the wheel and sighed heavily.
"Dammit," I hiss. I run my hands through my hair.
Seriously though. What did I really expect out of this? For us to be sunshine and rainbows and be friends to some degree? I think not.
I take in a breath and flip on the radio, tuning it to a local radio station. Some new country song that I didn't know was playing, but it was enough to distract me.
I drive home, to my dad's house, humming along to the song. I pass by the cemetery, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see the two gravestones with mini American flags next to them.
I check my rear-view mirror, making sure no one's right behind me and slam on my brakes. I put the Escape in reverse and proceed to pull into the cemetery. I drive as close as I can to their graves and park. I rub my clammy, sweaty hands on my thighs before leaving the car.
I keep my eyes on the graves the entire time, and I make sure not to step on anybody on my way there. The closer I get, the slower I realize I'm walking. My stomach kicks around, full of butterflies.
The closest grave is Wes's father.
Elijah Lynch
U.S. Army, 2nd Lieutenant
Purple Heart
Loving Father, Loyal Friend, Fierce Lover
I rifle through my wallet, getting out a quarter. I kiss it before setting it on top of his marker.
I breathe out a ragged sigh, not ready for the next one. Oh God.
Jonathon Crawford
U.S. Army, 2nd Lieutenant
Purple Heart
Devoted Husband and Father, Loyal Friend
Oh God.
I can't.
I turn to walk away and take the first step, but there's a strong breeze pushing me in the other direction. Goosebumps pop out of my skin, and I feel a tingling sensation in my gut. I look up to the sky, at the billions of stars in the beautiful clear sky, and turn around.
I have to do this.
I take a seat right in between both of their headstones but a few feet away so that I can look at them both.
"Hey, guys. It's been a long, long time," I start. I sit there for a few more minutes and clear my throat.
"I don't really know where to start, what to say." I look to John's headstone. "I can't even imagine how pissed you are at me, which I totally deserve, just saying. Like, if you send a bird to shit on me, I'm totally down for that, if you can do that," I chuckle. I cross my legs, getting more comfortable.
"Hmm. I guess Josie's already come by, telling you the situation, am I right? I figured." I go on to tell him everything that's happened. "And then she told me that she was still in love with me, and. . .and I think. . .I think I might still be in love with her, too. I don't know if it's because she's here and Brooke's not, especially with the history between us, but something's definitely there, and it's scaring the shit out of me, guys.
"And learning that you passed on, John, Elijah, I didn't know you could lose so many loved ones at once. I mean, Mama and Johnny, and now you two. I don't know how that happened, why that happened so quickly. I only just got over Mama's death a few years ago, and this week alone y'all have been dumped onto me, too. I don't know why, and I'm so sorry that I wasn't here for the ones you left behind, or to see you guys one last time before you left. I'm sorry."
I check the time, seeing that it's almost 11. I stand up and touch their headstones.
"I'll come by Sunday to say goodbye, okay? Rest easy, y'all." I wave and head out. I feel as though a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and I can finally breathe. I don't know why getting that out helped so much, but it was exactly what I needed.
I get into the car, deciding to call it a night. I've only been awake for roughly nine hours, but my brain is in pain.
I pull into the driveway, not seeing my dad's truck in the driveway. His favorite time of the year has always been the festival, so I'm not surprised.
After a quick update-call to Brooke, I call lights out and fall asleep, hoping to feel better in the morning.
The next morning, I wake up at a normal time and eat the pancakes that Dad had made for me yesterday that were in the fridge.
I'm not allowing myself to think about my current relationship with Josie today. I need some sort of peace of mind, and if I have to veg out to do it, so be it.
I'm halfway through my last pancake when Dad comes down the stairs in only a pair of PJ pants. He walks kind of funny when he finally gets down the stairs, but I don't really pay much mind to it.
"Dad, will you please put some clothes on?" I ask indignantly. "I'm eating."
"Says the one in only boxers," he snorts. I look down at my attire, or lack thereof, and roll my eyes.
"I'm still attractive. I'm a creation of absolute magnificence," I retort.
He raises an eyebrow, a thing I've always been envious of because I can't do it.
"'I'm mature, Dad.' 'I've grown up, Dad.' Bullshit. Listen to yourself. It's like you never left, Mr. Arrogant-and-Conceited," he points out. I don't have a reply, so I don't, and instead, I huff. He chuckles, seeing my sign of defeat and makes his way slowly to sit opposite me.
"Hey, listen. I need you to run to the store for me. My knee's killing me, and I'm having trouble getting around? Would you mind?"
I can never stay annoyed at him when he brings up his pains. They're a real problem for him from being a roofer since the age of 16, and his knees and back are really sensitive to fast movements or funny angles.
"Of course, Pop. Make me a list, and I'll go after I get dressed," I tell him as I put my dishes in the sink, and I clap my hand on his shoulder, giving it a slight rub. He nods up at me, and I head upstairs.
I change into a flannel, jeans, and boat shoes. I comb my hair back and grab my keys, wallet, and phone.
Dad's still at the table when I come back down, and when he sees me, he holds up a folded note and 40 dollars in between his first two fingers. I take them from him wordlessly and head out.
Like I'm really going to let him pay when I can get them for him effortlessly, epecially after not contributing to much, okay, anything, while I was gone.
I pull into Mill's parking lot, which isn't too crowded for it being a Saturday morning except for six or seven other cars.
I grab my things and the list from the cupholders and amble into the store.
Ground beef, check. Cereal, check. Pretzels, apples, grocery bags, check.
I push the carriage into the next aisle and practically crash into another customer.
"I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" we say at the same time.
"No problem!" we say again.
"Dammit, Cole. Quit it," Katie Crawford laughs. I'm already rounding the carriages and pulling her into a bear hug when she says this.
"Hello to you, too, Mrs. Crawford," I chuckle.
God, I missed this woman. After my mother passed away, she stepped right into the maternal role and helped have a hand in raising me.
She squeezes me tightly, and we rock from side to side. I let her go and step back, still holding onto her shoulders while her hands are lightly around my waist.
"How many times do I have to tell you? Katie, not Mrs. Crawford. Katie!" she scolds.
"Yes, ma'am," I snicker. She rests her elbows on the handle of the carriage and grins up at me.
"I was wondering if I was ever going to see you, or if you were ever going to say hi at least when we're in the same place."
A feeling of remorse washes over me. I had plans of going up and visiting her when I thought John was still. . .alive, but then after, I kinda avoided her house. I couldn't bring myself to stop by. Call me a coward, but it's the truth, as awful as it is.
I bring my arm back to scratch the back of my neck, looking at my shoes.
"Yeah..." I trail. "I'm only in till Sunday. I had plans of popping over, I did, but..." How do I tell her that I couldn't because of her dead husband? "I got sidetracked."
"Mhmm," she hums disbelievingly. Damn, she's not buying it. "From what I've heard, you were leaving Monday."
Damn, news travels fast in a small town. I'd forgotten that.
"Some things came up."
"And what about when we were at the festival last night?" she accuses, but then a thoughtful look crosses her face. She holds a finger lightly to her chin, looking up innocently. "I guess I'd have to excuse that. I mean, you and Josie were definitely preoccupied on the dance floor," she giggles.
"No, no, no! It wasn't like that at all, I swear. Besides, I-"
"Have a girlfriend, I know. Travis talks."
I have to bite my tongue to hold in a scoff.
"Whatever," I say quickly. "Not like you couldn't say hi to me, ya know. It's a two-way street. You're the older adult," I shrug.
She whacks me on the shoulder.
"You're the hotshot lawyer, honey. And the gentlemen. It's your job to take care of your women. Or do men not take care of their women up north?"
I ignore her comment and excuse myself.
"It was great seeing you, Katie, but I have to get back to the house. I was sent here by Dad to pick up some things, and he'll probably be wondering where I am," I tell her genuinely.
She smiles at me.
"I should have figured. Well, my house is yours, which you know, so don't be afraid to stop over, okay darling?"
"Yes, ma'am," I affirm.
"All righty then, I'll letcha get back to your shopping. By the way, I'm making homemade fried chicken tonight for dinner, if that's any motivation for you to stop by. Bring the old fart, I mean Travis." There's a mischievous glint in her fun-loving eyes, and I can't help but to accept her invitation.
"I'll consider it, Mrs. Crawford." I nod. She glares, and I correct myself. "Katie!"
She does nothing in reply except smile triumphantly and leave the aisle. I wonder why she's making the fried chicken though. Normally it's for bigger events that she makes it, and I don't recall tonight being special.
Goodness, I missed her. She's definitely where Josie got her spunk from, and I think that's why we get along so well, because she's so much like her daughter.
So much for not thinking about our current situation, Cole.
I check out, swiping my card and taking care of the thirty dollars worth of groceries. I load up the car and tuck Dad's money into my front pocket. Minutes later, I pull into our driveway and unload my purchases. I'm a one trip kind of person, so I manage to grab all of them with minimal struggle.
I notice as I pass by the living room that Dad is asleep on the couch, back on the arm rest, legs on the other side with his hands folded across his belly, with the Andy Griffith Show on. I let him be, but I don't go out of my way to be quiet when I put away his groceries. He needs to keep active anyway, and being couch potato isn't going to help his aches.
When I put the last canned soup away, I find I don't have anything else to do, so I walk into the living room to watch some mindless TV. I reach for the remote next to Dad's hand stealthily, but just as I should have known, I'm caught.
"Don't even think about it, Colt Michael," he grunts, eyes still closed. I huff and move over to the other side of the couch. I knock his legs off the couch so I can sit. He only puts them right back across my lap.
"Please, do throw a temper tantrum, my fully-grown son."
I scoff, only proving his point.
"I ran into Katie at the store, and she invited us over for dinner. She's making fried chicken," I tell him.
"Another bites the dust, then," he mumbles quietly but smugly, eyes still closed.
What on earth does that mean? Does she kill her own chickens?
"I'm sorry?"
His eyes pop open and eyebrows raise, telling me that I shouldn't have heard what he muttered.
"Nothing."
I deadpan.
"Dad. Come on."
He puts on a pondering look, like he's mentally weighing the pros and cons of telling me what could possibly be going on. The pros must outweigh the cons, or at least the cons don't exist because I'm a trustworthy person, because he straightens up and tucks his good knee under the bad one.
"Listen, kid. This ain't your business, but I'm gonna tell you anyway." As one does in a small town. "It's been roughly two years since John died, and Katie is a very pretty woman. She started attempting to see other people about six months ago, and let's just say she's been going through men like I go through undies. Every time a date goes wrong, she makes fried chicken the next dinner to compensate for the date."
I'm stunned that Katie started to see other people so quickly, but it's what John would have wanted. I'm not fond of that idea, especially knowing how absolutely smitten John and Katie were with each other, but my father is right. It's none of my business, and I don't get to have an opinion.
Goddamn...
"Colt?" Dad asks, breaking through my thought,
"Yeah?"
"I asked what time she wanted us over."
I tried to recall her telling me a specific time, but I don't remember.
"She never gave a dinner time."
He nods.
"I'll call her to ask her." He gets up and ambles out of the living room.
Two years. It's been two years since John's death, and she started seeing people six months ago. I couldn't date anyone for years after I left Josie. Yes, they're different situations, completely, but still. How did she get over him so quickly? I should take notes. Unless she's just using the men to fill up her empty time and to attempt to fill the hole that her husband left her with.
Oh boy...
I need to stop with the psychoanalyzing.
I spend the rest of the day nursing a couple beers and watching television, for fear of going out and having any other stupid reminders of my life. Old life. Dad called Katie, who was super excited that we accepted her offer, and Katie told us to come over around five.
Dad drives us over to Katie's house at around five-ish because I was drinking. We brought soda and some chips over, too.
I stop at the top of the patio steps, hand on the door to knock, when Dad barges past me and walks right into the house.
"You aren't even going to knock?" I ask astoundingly.
He looks at me like I've grown two extra heads.
"When have we ever knocked?"
Fair point. I used to always just walk right in without any worry of being kicked out or intruding because they are—were family.
I cock my head in agreement and follow behind him into the kitchen. Soft country music plays through the radio as Katie finishes setting the table. The food looks absolutely delicious, and I know my stomach agrees when my mouth starts to water uncontrollably.
Memories flash through my head, and all I can think about is how much time I actually spent here. Well it it was either here, Clint's, some party, or her grandparents' farm. Not much has changed, either. There are more military emblems and awards than I remember, which sends a sucker punch to my gut.
We all exchange hugs with her, and I pour us all some drinks while Katie and my dad sit down and dig in.
"I'm so glad y'all could come! I didn't want to spend the evening by myself," Katie comments graciously with a wide grin spreading across her face. I give her her drink as I sit down, and hand Dad his.
"Thanks for inviting us, Kate. Another one bite the dust yesterday?" Dad asks her.
Katie rolls her eyes and scoffs.
"And ate it, too. He literally fell down the stairs outside and ate it. I'd have laughed if I wasn't so worried about how stupid he was. It's two stairs. Two. That are two inches apart from each other. I don't understand," she rants.
I bite down into the chicken leg and hold back a satisfied groan.
"This is amazing, Katie," I tell her, taking another mouthful.
"Thank you, darlin'. Josie was supposed to spend the evening with me, but she was called into work and couldn't make it. I'm so glad I ran into you when I did."
I bet.
"Me too," I tell her, not knowing what else to say.
The rest of the dinner is spent talking about our lives now, and dessert, a apple pie a la mode, when I was little and how much trouble Josie and I got into.
"I could not believe that she talked you into climbing that tree. You were so scared of heights!" Dad barks out in laughter. "One wrong step and-and-and FOOM you fell so hard, oh my God, I could not stop laughing, Colt, your face when you hit the ground was absolutely priceless."
"I still am afraid of heights, Dad, and I'm so happy my pain causes you pleasure," I mutter bitterly, but he isn't paying attention as he dives into the next story, crying from laughing so hard.
"And then when the three of you took on those Kellan kids for that tree house, phew, that was scary. I couldn't believe you went up three against eight, and boy were they mean kids!" Katie adds. "I couldn't believe what Josie was telling me when the two of you came back that night all scarred and bruised up. I was so pissed I about went down to the Kellan house and killed their good-for-nothing mother for letting them gang up on y'all like that!"
Ah, yes, the Battle of Mason-Dixon River, as Josie called it. It was dubbed that because there was a little brook that ran right below our tree house, next to the tree, and we were from one side of the river, from Oak Bend, and the Kellan kids were from the other, from Springwood. The river acted almost as a mini Mason-Dixon line, separating our little gangs. That rivalry would soon be outgrown and turn into one with Lincoln High.
"And then you about beat the crap out of us for finding ourselves in that much trouble," I comment. Oh, Katie and Dad were pissed. Dad liked to make empty threats, but we didn't dare call his bluff that day. Tommy was lucky and got off the hook pretty easily, of course blaming Josie and I for it.
Katie cackles at that, remembering her threats from that day.
"Maybe it would have knocked some sense into you for a few years down the line," she chortles, and I drop my fork onto the plate.
I blink, trying to comprehend what she said. She doesn't even seem to notice what she said because she's already into the next story.
Was that an intentional dig? It had to have been.
Maybe she was thinking out loud? She wouldn't be so happy to see me if she was pissed right? The Crawford women are very much open books. I would know if she wasn't happy or upset with me.
She had to have just been thinking out loud.
Which is fine.
Right?
I mean, don't I almost deserve a couple knocks after what happened?
I look over to Dad to see if he's registered what she's stated, or if I'm just overthinking.
He doesn't look like anything is wrong. Maybe it wasn't meant like that. I mean, I did a lot of stupid things even before where I needed sense pounded into me.
I'm sure it's fine. She would say what she meant outright if she felt another way.
I tune back into the conversation, adding in the appropriate head nods, agreements and such, but I'm really not into it. For some reason, I'm really shaken by her words.
We get to the goodbyes, and I instantly tell Dad about it in the car.
"What are you even talking about, Colt? If she had a bone to pick with you, you would definitely know it," he assures.
If he says so.
I let it go for now. There's nothing I can really do about it at the moment except worry, and I don't feel like losing my hair over it.
We get home, and Dad heads straight up the stairs for bed.
"Good night, kid. I'll see you in the morning," he says.
"Good night," I reply.
I head into the kitchen, originally wanting a snack, but I end up getting distracted.
Tomorrow is my last day in Oak Bend. Will I ever come back home, even just to visit? Or is this my last time ever?
Have I done all that I've needed to? I thought that I came here just for the divorce, but looking back at it now, it feels like I came here for a different reason. I realize that I had a void that only my hometown could fill. I missed the sense of community and trust. I don't have that in a big city like Boston, which is totally okay, but a part of me missed it.
Colt did.
↔↔↔
All right y'all, here's chapter 6. We are far from done, I swear. I know the plot moves quickly, but we aren't even halfway there. I am so sorry for the filler chapter lol. It was hard to write because it wasn't a major part of the plan.
What do y'all think? Do you think Katie threw that dig out on purpose, or that it even meant anything?
XX Blondie XX