Homesick

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

A burst of bright light illuminates my room and I let out an irritated groan from under the covers of my childhood bed.

“Rise and shine, sweetheart.”

I peek from under my cave of blankets to find my mom placing a glass of water and an extra-large bottle of pain killers on my nightstand.

“I figured you’ll be needing these,” she says sweetly before taking a seat at the end of my bed.

As soon as I sit up, I wince at the pounding in my head. I down the pain killers with some water and groggily face my mom whose sunshine personality is not helping my hungover state. “Thank you,” I say with a raspy voice.

“So, someone had fun last night. Maybe a little too much fun?”

I try to reply, but my stomach lurches from drinking the water too quickly and I hop from my bed to the small bathroom attached to my room. I’m really regretting not eating anything last night.

After I return from my shameful exit feeling somewhat better, my mom is patiently waiting. I can tell she’s trying to get some juicy details from me, but it’s unclear how much she already knows. News travels fast in Honey Grove and I know exactly what part she’s dying to know more about.

“I guess you heard Blake drove me home last night.”

She pats my bed, ushering me to come sit next to her. I oblige and head over.

“I may have heard something about it at church this morning. If you don’t want to tell me anything, I completely understand. I know things are still weird between the two of you.”

Weird doesn’t even begin to cover it . After I puked down the side of his truck last night, I ran away . . . again. I used to never get embarrassed around Blake, but now that we’re grown up, I want him to see me as a mature woman, not the na?ve teen girl who so easily let him break her heart. However, maybe I wasn’t who I so clearly wanted to be seen as.

“Yeah, he gave me a ride home, but only because Chris asked him to. Nothing else happened,” I admit, leaving out the explicit details. “I . . . I don’t know how to act around him. The last two times I’ve seen him, I haven’t been in the best position. I always thought the next time I saw him, he’d see exactly what he gave up all those years ago.”

“I know, hun, but I don’t think Blake would ever judge you. That boy has the biggest heart I know. He knows you’re going through a tough time.”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I can’t even talk about him without her coming to his defense almost immediately. I just want to scream, I’m your kid , not him .

“I wasn’t aware you were giving him updates about my life,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“He’s not the enemy, Wren. You two were friends before you dated in high school. All I’m saying is maybe it’s time to forgive him and move forward.”

It seems like everyone in this town is Team Blake, except for me and Emma. Hell, I dated the guy for three years and he is no saint. I’ve seen that kid rip through people’s fields and steal road signs like it was his job.

My mom takes my silence as the end of the conversation and gets up to leave. Before she heads out of my room, she turns and says, “oh and you left your debit card at the Rustic Inn last night. You should probably head down there and pick it up. And I’m not saying you have to, but it might be nice to offer to clean off the side of Blake’s truck. Sounds like you left quite a mark last night.”

Great. Just fricking great.

* * *

I pull up to the Rustic Inn in my old car my dad saved from high school. The brakes squeal as I park in the almost empty lot. It’s crazy how different this place is in the daylight. It’s a cute little shack, but the imperfections are almost too clear during the day.

I gag a little once I get a whiff of the inside. After last night’s shenanigans, I won’t be drinking for a while. I still have a lot of groveling to do with Emma after being such an ass last night. I sent her a text this morning to get a feel for the damage I’d done, and I still haven’t received a reply. Emma is my only lifeline in this town, so I need to do some ass kissing immediately.

I walk up to the bar feeling the stickiness of the floor under my boots as I walk. The place is spotless after last night, but some things can never be fully cleaned. I hop up on one of the bar stools and wait for someone to pop out from the back. I cross my fingers and pray it’s not the girl from last night.

I hear footsteps and turn to see who’s coming. I’m almost giddy when I see Sheila coming toward me locked and loaded with a hug.

“You’re working here now? What happened to your job at the hospital?” I ask as soon as she steps back from our embrace.

“I’ve been the manager for around two years. I had to quit my nursing job. It was really starting wear me down.”

I can’t help but keep grinning at the wonderful human standing across from me. Sheila had Blake when she was eighteen so she’s a bit younger than my mom. I still see some wrinkles starting to form around her eyes—probably from years of smiling. She could smile through anything.

The thought turns my stomach sour when I think back to her ovarian cancer diagnosis when I was in high school. Sheila was like my second mom growing up and the thought of losing her was unbearable.

I still ended up losing her , I think as my thoughts turn somber.

I remember holding Blake’s hand at every doctor’s appointment and sneaking away to his house every night to hold him until he fell asleep. Blake lost his dad when he was young, so Sheila was all that he had.

We got through it, though. One of my favorite memories of Sheila is the look on her face when we surprised her with a party to celebrate her remission.

“Look at you! You’re still gorgeous as ever. I think it’s safe to say my son is a complete idiot,” she says while shooting me a wink. “Go ahead and sit down. I’ll make you something to help with that hangover.”

“How do you know I have a hangover?”

“The side of my son’s truck said enough,” she yells over whatever she’s currently blending.

My stomach lurches at the smell of tomato and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. After she’s done blending, Sheila sets the ominous looking glass in front of me. The liquified contents have made an unsettling shade of olive green, kind of like the shade of Blake’s eyes.

“Here goes nothing,” I say before tossing back the drink. After I finish the last drop, I say, “it tastes even worse than it smells.”

Sheila laughs at my disgusted face and starts cleaning up the mess she made.

“Hopefully it will help,” she says before pausing a moment, debating what she should say next. “Your mom seems happy to have you home. How long are you planning on sticking around?”

I knew I’d have to answer this question a lot, but I still didn’t have a good answer. It’s hard to cover up your botched career from people that know you a little too well.

“I’m not sure. The job hunt has been pretty bleak so I could be here for a while. I’m going to reach out to a few connections this week and see if there’s any leads.”

“Well, if you’re interested in earning some extra cash while you’re back, we’re looking for a new server. I know it’s not a glamorous gig like you’re used to, but the tips are good, and there’s a lot of downtime so you can keep up the job hunt. Plus, I know being back home can be rough, so it could be a nice little escape,” she says with a wink.

Damn, she really knows how to sell it.

“I appreciate the offer. Can I take a day or two to think about it?”

“Of course! I’m not posting it until the end of the week so just let me know by then.”

I knew as soon as I accepted the job, I would be admitting I was here to stay. I also knew that meant running into everyone I knew constantly and having to serve them. I’d waited tables in high school and college, but now it felt like I was taking a step backwards.

“I have to get going, but it was nice seeing you. I’ll let you know about the job.”

I hop up from the barstool and make my way to the exit. “Oh, and Shelia, this is a weird question, but does Blake still live with you? I . . . was going to drop by.”

* * *

I know the way to Blake’s house almost as well as my own. They live close enough to my parents’ house that we could ride our bikes there when we were kids. I still remember crashing my bike in the ditch and Blake carrying me the whole way home, skinned knees and all. I may have been young, but the second he wiped my tears away, I knew I was a goner.

I pull into the Fisher’s driveway, and nothing has changed. Their small house is still the same baby blue color, just a little faded from the sun. I spot Blake’s truck sitting outside of the garage and my stomach drops a little. I was hoping he wouldn’t be home and I could postpone my apology for at least another day.

I pull up behind his truck, but he’s nowhere to be found. I get out of my car and survey the vehicle for any remnants of last night. Thankfully, he’s already washed my vomit away on the passenger side. Maybe it was all just a fever dream, and I didn’t actually embarrass myself for the second time in row in front of my ex. I fucking wish I was that lucky.

I survey the truck and check out the new paint job. Paint can only do so much for this old hunk of junk because I can still see the dent in his bumper from when I accidentally backed into a tree while we were fishing. He never let me drive it after that, which was probably a good call on his end.

“Looked better blue,” I whisper to myself.

“Really? I thought the blue was a little too flashy.”

“Jesus Christ. Why do you keep sneaking up on me like that?” I say, turning around to face him.

As soon as I turn, I’m met with a perfectly toned torso. I quickly divert my eyes to his, but judging by the grin and the raised eyebrow, I’m too late. Yet again, he’s caught me checking him out.

Deciding not to acknowledge my wandering eyes, he says, “hey, you’re on my property. I can sneak up on you if I want.” Thankfully, he takes the shirt hanging from his back pocket and puts it on. “There, now you won’t be so distracted,” Blake says with a smirk.

I roll my eyes at his cockiness and cross my arms. “Nothing I haven’t already seen before,” I reply, adding in a yawn for good measure.

Blake smiles at my answer but decides to change the subject.

“What do you want, Wren? After last night, I figured you wanted to avoid me any chance you got,” he says while he begins to pick up the tools scattered in front of his truck.

“I came to apologize for last night.”

“For the puke or for being an ass.”

“For the puke.”

He throws the tools on the counter and walks over to me. “Great, so let’s hear it.”

“Umm, okay. I’m sorry for puking down the side of your truck, Blake,” I deadpan.

This time, he gives me a once over before deciding what he’s going to say next. “We both know that apology wasn’t sincere. Now let’s start over, what are you really doing here?”

That’s a great question. I honestly don’t know. Part of me feels like I need to apologize after talking to my mom this morning and then seeing Sheila, but that isn’t the real motivation behind why I decide to face my issues head-on.

“I don’t get it. When we were together, Chris hated you, but it’s like something’s changed.”

He pauses a moment, and I can see the gears in his head start to turn. “Chris and I started hanging out again about a year ago after I started working at the vet’s and then I started helping him around the farm when he needed it. I honestly didn’t think you would care. I know I was a real dick when I ended things, but hell, it’s been six years.”

I know deep down he’s right. I shouldn’t care that he and Chris are close again, but I can’t let it go. It feels like everyone in this town has moved on without me, especially my own family. I want to be a logical and level-headed human, but I feel like I’ve been an emotional wreck the minute I stepped back into this life. It’s like the past six years have been spent doing everything but healing from our break-up. It hurt that he didn’t think I’d care. Did he not care anymore either?

“Okay, that’s all I wanted to know,” I say as I look at the ground.

“Well, the offer still stands. When you’re ready, I’d really like to get to a place where we can be friends again.”

Oh god. There’s that word again. Friends .