“Come on,” she rolls her eyes, “Don’t make me go all Celion Dion 1999 on your ass right now and bust out ‘That’s the way it is,’ because Lord knows I’ll do it.”
Gwen stands from her chair and begins to sing the chorus.
I laugh at her, shaking my head, I question, “You’re serious?”
Shrugging, she crosses her arms over her chest daring me. “What do you got to lose? You already lost the boy, the dream, and your will to live.”
Laughing, I worry I’m about to regret the decision I subconsciously feel myself making. A choice I should have thought about first, many weeks ago actually.
“Alright,” I say. “Let’s go to Kentucky.”
Gwen screams with excitement. I laugh at her enthusiasm and wonder why I never thought about following him before. Why did I let him get the last word and let his need for space be what defined the end of us? A smile breaks across my face for the first time in weeks.
“Girl, I was hoping you’d say that. I already told your boss you were taking the next two weeks off for a family emergency.”
Gwen starts to make her way back to the kitchen.
“Wait, you did what?” I shout.
“Save it. He was more than happy to oblige. Your bad mood these last few weeks has made life unbearable for all of us. Time to pack my dear. We’ve got a lot of miles ahead of us to get you back where you belong.”
Back where I belong? Noah is where I belong. I just hope he still feels the same.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Noah
Sitting on the front porch of my childhood home, Loretta Lynn’s “Coal Miner’s Daughter” drifts through the open windows as a storm rolls closer in the distance. Returning home from work earlier, I grabbed some sweet tea and claimed the spot I have been sitting in for almost an hour now, still unable to escape the memory of what I left behind several weeks ago.
Lately, I have been doing better, but this morning I woke up in a cold sweat after seeing her face haunt me in my dreams all night. Remembering her taste, the feel of her skin against mine, and everything that we once were has consumed me all day.
Staring off into the distance, I watch the sky, as the clouds roll and blend together. The humidity picks up and the wind blows violently, the sky grows black as the storm quickly approaches. It is only a matter of minutes before we feel the effects of what has already hit a few towns over. A gust of wind smacks the front door closed as I welcome the fresh breeze against my skin.
Moving back home with my mother is not something I am proud of having to do. I thought I would be so much further ahead in life by now, but it is only temporary. A few more weeks and I will have finally saved enough to get my own place again after paying off the lease in California. The trip across the country set me back a little as well, so when my mother said I could stay with her, I reluctantly accepted and began to contact all my old friends looking for any work possible. Giving up on construction for a while, I took a job at the local fire department.
“Uncle Noah, are you going to come play with me now?” a sweet little voice sounds from just behind the screen door.
I smile as I look over to see the blue-eyed, blonde-haired little four-year-old girl with paint smeared across her cheek. Her overalls are dirty from playing outside earlier before the storm started brewing, and her hair is a mess, halfway pulled up with bangs plastered to her forehead. I stand happily and make my way toward Anna May.
“Of course darlin’,” I say. A grin appears instantly on her sweet face as she runs back off into the house. As I open the door and step inside, I feel the tension I was feeling moments before slowly start to ease in my shoulders. Walking into the kitchen situated down the hallway and to my right, I take in my mother at the small kitchen island. She’s busy canning some of her famous preserves from the homegrown strawberries Anna May helped her pick from the garden out back. My niece is at the small round kitchen table, painting a picture that I can barely make out. One which will absolutely be placed on the fridge with all her others when she’s done.
“This is Buddy, bobby’s doggie,” she sticks out her tongue, and concentrates as she slops up more paint and continues finishing her masterpiece. “He came over to play with me lasterday and he licked me all over my face.”
Anna May giggles as she continues to paint a picture of a big black blob. I pick her up and set her in my lap, watching her swirl every color of the rainbow into a big circle next to a stick figure of Bobbie’s dog.
“Buddy huh, he looks kind of hairy to me.”
My mother smiles at me across the room, and continues to hum along with the music.
“Mhm,” Anna May giggles. “Momma says one day we can get a doggie, too. Do you like doggies, Uncle Noah?”
I kiss the top of her head and lean in to whisper in her ear. “I love doggies Anna May. Just like I love you. Only I don’t know, I think I might like doggies more.”
She looks up at me and rolls her eyes. “Uncle Noah, you can’t love anything more than me, remember? I’m your favorite.”
Laughing I hug her a little tighter as she pulls me from the nightmares I’ve been trying to escape all day.
“You sure are darlin’,” I whisper. “Just don’t tell your MeeMaw that.”
