Maybe he’d told her she was a childhood friend and nothing more. Somehow, that thought seemed worse.
She reached the apex of the hill where the road became uneven, kicking a few stray rocks here and there to work out her frustration. A horn blared behind her, and she instinctively stepped further away from the road, into the knee-high grass. She kept walking, waiting forthe car to pass. Instead, a familiar blue truck slowed to a stop a few paces ahead of her.
For a brief moment, she considered ducking into the thicket of trees to her right to avoid the truck and her sneaking suspicion of the person driving it. But that would only delay the inevitable. She approached the passenger side with measured steps, the hum of the truck’s engine drowning out the heartbeat pulsing in her temples.
The passenger window rolled down, and she peered inside. Owen’s serious gaze met hers from behind the wheel. “Let me give you a ride.”
What was with the Fowler siblings insisting on driving her home today?
“Thanks, but I’m good. Enjoying the walk. It’s a nice day.” She plastered on a smile she didn’t feel, hoping he’d let it go.
He did not let it go. “We need to talk. Let me give you a ride,” he said.
She glanced at the road, casting her mind for an excuse to give him. No other cars drove by. The road remained annoyingly empty. Her mind returned to ducking in the woods to escape. With no other option that didn’t embarrass her even further, she decided. “Alright.”
Owen reached across the bench seat to open the passenger door. He grabbed a pair of cleats off the floor and tossed them over his shoulder to the back seat. Amusement filled her at the crumbs littering the seat, remembering how tidy Owen used to keep his truck.
She climbed inside and perched on the edge of the worn vinyl seats that had seen better days. Awkward silence stretched between them, made worse when he didn’t put the truck in drive. She chanced a look at him to see what the holdup was.
“Seat belt,” he said.
A surprised laugh rose in her throat. “OK, Dad,”she replied.
She wished she could take the words back as soon as she said them.Dad…he was an actual dad now.The silence grew even more taut. She reached for the seat belt and contemplated opening the door and going back to her original plan of escaping into the woods. Instead, she clicked the belt and sealed her fate.
Owen put the truck in drive, and it bumped along the rough road. Her leg bounced, betraying her nerves. Did he feel as awkward? She wracked her brain for something to say. She went for the obvious. “You said we needed to talk?”
He glanced over at her in surprise, as if he didn’t expect her to speak. He cleared his throat. “Sorry about your dad,” he said.
She nodded. He’d died a month ago, and she still didn’t know how to respond when people gave their condolences.Thank youseemed insufficient.
“It was sudden. A heart attack,” Ava said. She cleared her throat at the emotion the statement stirred in her throat. “That’s why I’m here. Someone needs to sort out the cabin.”
“Is the rest of your family here? Surprised I haven’t seen your brothers around town.”
“No, it’s just me. Noah and Lucas couldn’t get away from work.”
“And you could?”
She didn’t miss the accusation in his tone. It ignited her guilt. Guilt over not visiting her dad more. Guilt for avoiding Cedar Falls for the last ten years. She pushed down her feelings and shoved them into a tiny box alongside the rest she’d compartmentalized.
He flipped the turn signal and turned off Teaberry Road to the dirt road leading to the cabin. Ava estimated she had another three minutes of this uncomfortable ride. She could make small talk that much longer.
“The café looks great,” she said to change the subject, away from her dad and well away from her.
“Thanks, I took over fully a few years ago.”
“I heard your parents retired.”
Owen hummed in acknowledgment instead of responding. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel. A steady beat that matched the bouncing of her foot against the floorboard. She wasn’t the only nervous one; it seemed. She tried for another topic, unable to curb the curiosity that plagued her since the café.
“Your son looks just like you. How old is he?” She tried to ask, like she was unaffected by what the answer would be. A simple question, that’s all. She had absolutely no ulterior motive she was trying to satisfy, like wondering how long it took for him to move on from their breakup.
“Avery is nine,” he told her with a genuine smile, completely unaware of the shard of ice that pierced her heart. “Ma says it’s like looking at a picture of me. Maddy thinks he takes after her, though. Think she says that to mess with me.”
Ava nodded with a tight smile. Afraid to speak and betray her feelings after her calculation.
Three months. It took him three months to move on.
