My breath stops altogether at those words. They’re completely contradictory to how I feel. He doesn’t live in my heart... he’s in that house.
They’re offering me an out. Just like they always do when I run into difficulty.It’s all right, let us pick up the pieces.It’s so easy to say yes. But, goddamn it, I’m tired of quitting things and running away from my problems. I’m sick of giving up when shit gets hard. So frustrated with looking in the mirror and not recognizing my reflection. I’ve been coddled and taken care of through every failure, and I’mdone.
It’s a struggle, but I muster the strength to sit up. Dad is two garden beds over, dark soil caked up to his wrists. Mom turns on a hose, showering her herbs.
“I’m not giving up,” I announce. This is one project I plan to see all the way through. I’m going to accomplish something Gramps would be proud of.
Chapter 6
Theo
Every morning, I run a five-mile loop through Fern River. Rain or shine. Iwake up early, restless and jittery, and if I stay still too long, give my brain too much time to think, I’ll spiral.
So, I run, music blasting, until my muscles are tired and it’s time for work.
My path leads through the small neighborhood where I’m renting a house on the edge of town and then down Main Street. I’m usually there in time to wave to Hal while he opens the market, say hi to his husband, Omar, as he unlocks the door to Coffee Cottage, and Mrs. LaGrande waits by the window to call out which scones they’re baking up that day.
It’s lemon poppyseed this morning—Mom’s favorite.
Once I get through town, I take a left down the road where Mom, Fable, and the Oakses live. Fable’s cabin is hidden in a grove of trees and only visible for a moment, but I always look. I can’t help it. A few weeks ago, I glanced over and spotted her standing on the front porch with a mug in her hands, dressed only in a long T-shirt and tall green socks, her thighs and kneeson display, hair in a messy bun atop her head, early-morning sunlight playing over her frame. She looked sleep rumpled and soft, so unlike how I normally get to see her.
I haven’t been able to get the image out of my head.
Now, as I pass, I peer over in time to see the porch and dark wood A-frame—but no Fable today. Another drop of disappointment joins the deep well in my chest from yesterday.
I had a secret, last-ditch-effort hope that she’d say yes. The stars would align. Pigs would fly. I’d catch her on a good day where she might want to do me a favor.
But I don’t blame her. It was a wild idea.
So, it’s time to move on to the rest of the plan: Project Settle Down in Fern River.
First thing this morning, I’m calling Cathy, who (despite her full-time job busybodying) happens to be the best Realtor in town. Iwant to trade my rent for a mortgage, and hopefully she can help me. Then I’m contacting Maddox, who’s been trying to convince me to rejoin the Volunteer Fire Department since I moved back. Finally, I’m going to get in touch with the man who runs Fern River’s Little League program, to find out if they’re looking for coaches this spring. Maybe I can put those years of baseball to good use.
The music fades out of my earbuds as a call comes through. Islow myself to a walk and tap my AirPod. “Hello?”
My panting breaths fill the silence before Mia squeals, “Ew. What is wrong with you? Do not answer the phone in the middle of whatever you and Fable are doing!”
“Running,” I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “I’mrunning, Mia.”
“Oh god, okay, please never answer if you’re...busy.”
On that note, my mind betrays me with an image of how Fableand I could bebusy. Her hair fanned out on my bed. Her flushed cheeks. Those hazel eyes bright with lust—
“You still there?” Mia asks.
I turn around and squint into the rising sun, hoping the glare will burn away the image. “Yeah. I’m here,” I grit out. “Why are you awake so early?”
“Bree had to be up for court. She has to go put the bad guys in jail, you know?”
“Superhero shit.” I walk until the road curves, and Mom’s property comes into view.
“We love her for it.” She yawns. “Might go back to bed in a minute though.”
“Don’t let me stop you.” I laugh, turning down Mom’s driveway.
Her little house is nestled between the woods on one side and her garden on the other, and if I know her, she’s already out there, tending to it with her second cup of coffee.
“Wanted to check on you,” Mia says. “I tried calling Fable all day yesterday, and it went straight to voicemail every time. Figured I could callyouto check on her now.”
