Huh. I feel a little let down that she has a boyfriend, which is weird.
“So how is your family? Bradie? Your dad?” Jude says bringing my attention back to the conversation.
“My dad is remarried and lives in Florida,” I explain. “We haven’t really been in touch since I got out of juvie. Bradie is here in Maine and has a kid. I’m trying to get back into her life. Honestly, we were never really close, but I want to change that. I’ve been trying to fix all the stuff I fucked up when I was a kid. People hold grudges. I’m actually surprised you would offer me this job. Grateful, but surprised.”
“Dude, I’m not judging you for acting like a punk when we were kids,” he says easily and it makes me feel a wave of relief. Someone gets it. “Losing a parent destroys you no matter what age. And you were ten when your mom died and had zero support. I’m not holding that against you.”
I appreciate him saying that. It really is a devastating thing to lose your mom at ten like I did. The whole world ends before it even began.
“If people didn’t give me second chances I wouldn’t be married to Zoey, and I wouldn’t have my incredible son.”
“Thanks, man. I won’t let you down,” I promise.
“I’m counting on it. Okay, well I’m going to go back to sleep while Zoey makes Declan breakfast,” Jude explains and he lets out a sheepish chuckle. “Don’t forget to keep me posted. I’m fucking nervous as hell about this.”
“I promise it’ll be fine,” I assure him. “I’ll treat it like it’s my own place.”
“I know you will. That’s why I picked you for the job,” Jude replies. “Later, Holden.”
He ends the call and I stick my phone in my back pocket and head into my trailer to make sure everything survived the trip. Nothing is out of place. I dig my Ray-Bans out of the junk drawer in my kitchen and shove them on and decide to head out for a walk, maybe grab some coffee. Then in a few hours, instead of using the key Jude gave me, I’ll knock politely on the door and tell Winnie I need to do a walk-through. Hopefully she’s in a better mood…or better yet, not even home.
I walk slowly down the side streets of this little Podunk town and let the sun warm my arms and the ocean air clear my lungs. I used to fucking hate this place after my mom died. It felt like a prison, which is why when I got out of actual jail—well, juvenile detention—I moved away. I didn’t even care where I went; I just didn’t want to be here. But now there is nowhere I’d rather be, even though moving back here means having to prove myself and earn back people’s trust.
I open the door to Cannon’s Corner Grocery and the little bell jingles happily. Unfortunately, the happy smile on Cat Cannon’s face dissolves when she sees me. She gave me the same reaction the last two times I’ve come in. “What do you want?”
“World peace. A cure for cancer and a way to make you forgive me,” I reply bluntly as I take off my shades. “But I’ll probably have to settle for a coffee and a cinnamon bun.”
“I should ban you,” Cat says, her bright red lips set in a tight line as she crosses her arms. “But it’s the off-season and I can’t afford to turn away people. Even thieving assholes.”
“Thank God for that,” I mutter and head to the coffee station. I pour some hazelnut roast and add hazelnut creamer. Enough to cause a cavity but fuck it, it’s been a rough morning. I grab a strawberry milk out of the cooler and head to the counter where she’s already got my cinnamon bun waiting in a small bag. “You didn’t spit on it, did you?”
“I didn’t think of it,” she replies honestly and then gives me a humorless smirk. “But I will next time. Four bucks even. Hurry up and pay so I can kick you out.”
I pull a five from my wallet and hand it to her. She shoves it in the register and practically throws the dollar at me as I pick up my cinnamon bun. She watches me with angry blue eyes. “Why did you come back?”
“Because I realized people can’t know how sorry I am if I’m not here to tell them,” I explain. “And they won’t know I’ve changed if I don’t show them.”
“Wow. How selfish,” Cat barks back and I really wasn’t expecting that answer. “Maybe we don’t care if you’ve changed. Ever think of that? Maybe we just want to forget you ever existed.”
“Fuck, that’s harsh.” Her expression wavers, for just the slightest second, but then it goes back to angry.
“You convinced me to throw a party when my parents were out of town and then you stole from my house. I was grounded for half my junior year,” she says, still as angry as if it were yesterday. “You took my grandmother’s pearls, the only thing she left me, and pawned them.”
“I know,” I tell her. And sigh. “I also hurt your feelings. On purpose. I was a jerk.”
“And I don’t care if you’re a fucking angel now. I don’t like you,” Cat counters. “I’ll never like you. So I suggest you make the trek down to Hogan’s Market next time you need coffee or sustenance or anything. I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”
“Fair enough,” I say even though it doesn’t feel fair. I know I earned her anger. I am a little disheartened by how much damage I did at such a young age and how no one is letting it go. Literally no one. I knew coming home wouldn’t be easy, but I didn’t think it would be this hard. I head to the door but pause before leaving. “For the record, I would put you out if you were on fire.”
“You’d piss on me?” She cocks a blond eyebrow.
Oh fuck, that’s not… “No I’d use water or a fire extinguisher. I just…forget it. Take care, Cat. I’ll try to stay out of your way this winter.”
I leave before I can make it worse or she can come up with another way to express her fury. I head up to the beach, sit on a bench and devour the bun and strawberry milk as my coffee cools. This was a treat my mom used to get me. I still love it. The tide is high and the waves are few and far between. There are very few people around. It’s such a dynamic shift from last week when the tourists were still here and the beach was packed. The first week of September and the second are like pre- and post-apocalypse when it comes to the amount of people in this town.
I knew it was going to be a lonely winter, but I’m beginning to realize it’s going to be a hostile one. I wasn’t banking on that. I toss the bag from my bun and the bottle from my milk in the trash can and pick up my coffee as I take off my shoes and make my way back to the Braddock house along the sand. I guess if it gets really lonely I could call Kidd. Maybe I can hang out with those guys again without being brought into whatever bullshit they’re involved in…Maybe they’ve changed? Even a little…Or I can just force Winnie Braddock to see me in a new light.
I laugh to myself at the improbability of that.
