Homesick

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

I turn the radio up and let my mind drift when I pull out of the Rustic Inn parking lot. These past few days have been a blur filled with unpacking, applying for jobs and rejection email after rejection email.

After the last rejection, I felt like I needed a win and that very small win happened to be landing a job at my hometown bar. I was desperate for a reason to get out of the house after a week of living under the same roof as my parents. I also wanted to avoid Chris . . . and Blake.

To make matters worse, it was torture being around him. If he wasn’t preaching about how he wanted to be friends, he was pissing me off with that toned jawline and cute-ass smirk.

I grip the steering wheel and think about how good it feels to drive. When I first got my license and I was feeling particularly angsty, I would crank up some screamo and drive in circles for hours.

Soon I see my driveway come into focus, but I keep driving. If I go home, Chris will probably be there, and there’s a good chance I won’t be able to keep dodging him. I’d have to hear about why I shouldn’t be mad that he’s friends with Blake again and I should quit being so dramatic. I roll my eyes at that thought. The man legit almost broke his toe after kicking a wall because his high school crush rejected him. But no, I’m the dramatic one.

I mindlessly drive for a few minutes until I realize I’m driving toward Emma’s house. I couldn’t care less about mending my relationship with Chris right now. I need to fix things with Emma. I’m honestly surprised my drunken attitude was enough to piss her off because she’s experienced every side of me when it comes to drinking.

Heck, she even came up with a drunk alter ego for me when we were in high school. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was upset about something else. Maybe something she’s wanted to say for a while.

* * *

After thirty minutes of driving past Emma’s driveway again and again, I finally get the courage to pull in. A few years after high school, Emma and Colt moved into a small house on the other side of Honey Grove. It suits them and the yard is big enough for Milo’s trampoline that I am so going to buy him when he gets older. I am determined to be a cool aunt and give Emma a few heart attacks along the way.

I park my car and walk to the door. I knock once and instantly hear the cries of a child. Fuck, this is not off to a good start. I hear heavy footsteps and the door opens up to Colt’s tall frame taking up most of the doorway.

I used to tease him for being a giant in school, but his height came into good use when I needed him to hoist me over the fence that surrounded the football field. Sometimes I didn’t feel like paying for a ticket to the game on Friday nights and that way, we could sneak in water bottles full of vodka.

“Wren! Long time no see!” I go rigid as Colt wraps his giant arms around me. After the initial shock, I wrap my arms around him, returning the hug.

“Good to see you, Colt. I miss these soul-crushing embraces of yours.”

He releases me and steps aside so I can walk into their home. I take in the scene before me. It looks like a tornado of baby clothes and toys ripped through the living room. I cringe at the mess and feel my hands shake with the need to clean something. I turn to Colt and say, “umm, is Emma here? I have some groveling to do.”

“Yep! She’s in the nursey trying to get Milo down for his nap. You can go ahead and go on back. Don’t mind the mess. Having a kid has really kicked our asses these first couple of months.”

I head down the hallway and quickly find the nursery where my best friend is holding her son. The sight makes me think about my current situation and how different our lives turned out after high school.

I lightly tap on the door to get her attention and not to frighten her while she’s holding Milo. The little dude is currently squirming in her arms trying to break free.

She looks up and says, “oh good! Can you grab him for a sec? I really need to pee after he basically kicked me in the stomach.” She playfully looks at Milo and says, “I thought you did enough of that when you were still in my tummy.”

Emma unloads the kid on me, and we both give each other the stare down. “Hey bud. I’m your Aunt Wren. I’m the one that sent you those cool tractors for your birthday.” He looks at me like I’m speaking a foreign language.

I sit down on the rocker and place him on my lap to get a better look at him. He looks so much like his mom, it’s unreal. I bounce Milo on my knee a little for comfort and to hopefully get him to stop fussing. He looks content for a minute, and I think to myself, hey I might be getting the hang of this . Two seconds later he spits up all over the front of my t-shirt. “Aww, that was lovely. Thank you very much, Mi.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t miss that. Welcome to parenthood,” Emma chides jokingly before taking Milo out of my hands. “Don’t take it personally, he tends to spit up on the people he loves the most. Exhibit A,” she says as she points to an old stain on her shirt.

Emma balances Milo on her hip and hands me a random towel laying on the dresser. “Thank you,” I say as I wipe his spit up off my shirt. “Do you have a few minutes to chat? I wanted to talk about the other night.”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go out to the living room,” she suggests before yelling Colt’s name. He quickly appears in the doorway like some kind of magician.

“Yeah?”

“Can you try to get his little gremlin down for his nap. Wren and I are going to go chat in the living room,” she explains while handing off their son to him. “Oh! Actually, we can go on the back porch. We just spruced it up a bit,” she says excitedly. “Do you want anything to drink?” I give her a look and she just laughs. “I meant like water or something.”

After grabbing two bottles of water, we head to the porch. It’s a beautiful day and their porch overlooks a small creek that cuts through their backyard. We both take a seat across from each other.

“So,” I say.

“So,” she replies.

“I’m sorry for being a jerk,” I quickly blurt out. Emma looks at me for a minute and bites her lip in concentration.

“Wren, can I be brutally honest for a second?” She doesn’t wait for me to respond and continues, “I may have overreacted Saturday night, but I feel like it’s because I’ve barely seen you in the past couple of years and I felt . . . well I felt like you thought I was some boring old mom, and you’d rather hang out with some dumb guy.”

I begin to interject, but she cuts me off.

“Wait, I’m not done. I feel dumb for even bringing up how long you’ve been gone because one thing I love about us is that no matter how much time passes, it feels like we can pick up right where we left off. But that night and the last couple of times you’ve been home, it’s like you were here , but you weren’t really here . I know there’s a lot of shit going on in your life, but you do this thing where you completely shut everyone off and try to put on a face. Hell, I didn’t even know you got laid off and were moving home until two weeks ago. If I would’ve known you’ve been going through all that alone, I would’ve dropped everything and drove to Cleveland to be there for you.”

I feel a swirl of emotions building up in my chest. I hate that I’ve been pushing her away, even if I did it unknowingly.

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling like that, Emma. I . . .” I pause for a moment feeling very vulnerable and out of my element. The need to retreat is nipping at my heels. “I didn’t want to bother you with my issues. You’re a frickin mom for god’s sake. You literally gave birth to a whole-ass human and my problems felt small when I tried to compare my life to yours. We’re in such different stages of our lives and sometimes I’m ashamed of how far behind I am.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but then clamps her lips back together. Emma looks anywhere but my eyes and I can feel her mind wander away from the conversation for a second. Before I can ask what she’s thinking, she clears her throat and then continues.

“Wren, who in the hell said you were behind? Just because I got married and started a family does not mean that you have to be in the exact place as me. You’ve always gone after what you’ve wanted and sometimes a traditional family doesn’t always fit into that dynamic. I’ve always envied that about you.”

I take a minute to examine every feature about Emma. Her pale blonde hair is in a messy bun and the bags under her eyes are much more present than they were last Saturday. She looks different and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet. Nevertheless, I smile and attempt to keep the mood light.

“You’ve become so wise in your parent era,” I laugh and slouch back in my chair. “I appreciate you saying that, but it’s hard to go after what you want when you don’t really know anymore. It turns out marketing research wasn’t a passion of mine, no matter how practical it seemed or how good the paychecks were. Don’t roll your eyes at me when I say this, but I feel even more behind than I did before. It’s like I have to do this complete 360 and start over at the ripe age of twenty-four.”

She laughs at my statement, thankfully matching my light mood. “Okay, I am going to roll my eyes at the twenty-four-year-old thing. God, we’re going to hate ourselves for wasting such youth when we’re old and wrinkly. It’s perfectly fine not to have it all figured out at our age. Just because I checked off most of my boxes does not mean I know what I want. I know it’s easy to feel like a failure, but you really need to take a step back and realize how far you’ve come. Like I said before, if you want something, you go after it. After high school, you wanted to move away and get some space, and you did it! Most people don’t make it out of their hometowns, period. Just because your life is on a different path now, doesn’t mean it’s the wrong path.”

“I know everything you’re saying is true, but it’s hard for me to get out of my funk so easily,” I mutter. “But Em, if I ever start doing that shit again, please let me know. Sometimes it’s hard for me to be self-aware when I’ve been away for so long.”

I feel a slight weight lift off me, but I still feel bogged down.

“That’s perfectly fine. You know what you need to do? You need to take some time to just have fun and quit worrying about your next steps. Take a step back and appreciate that you don’t have to be anywhere at a certain time, and you can spend more time with your friends and family. Just enjoy not being tied down for once.”

I wish it were that easy. When I’m not busy or working, I feel guilty for wasting time doing nothing. “About that. I took a waitressing job at the Rustic Inn,” I say nervously.

“Oh really? So, you’ll be working with your ex’s mom. What could possibly go wrong?” she says in her all-knowing mother tone. Motherhood really suits Emma.

“Hey, my beef is with Blake, not Sheila.”

“Mmhmm. Speaking of Mr. Fisher. I know you were just trying to make him jealous last weekend. You might want to be less obvious next time,” she comments, sipping her drink.

“Yeah, not my finest moment. The minute I saw him, I turned into this immature girl who wanted his attention. I hate that he brings out that side in me.”

“Not to mention Puke Gate.”

“Puke Gate?”

“That’s what everyone is calling it,” Emma says, throwing her head back and breaking out into a fit of laughter. I stare at her with an annoyed look on my face and wait for her to calm down.

“There has to be juicier gossip than that in Honey Grove. Like, come on.”

“Nope. That’s the juiciest thing to happen around here since we found out the Smith’s house guest was not just a family friend, but the third in their throuple.”

“Okay, well that doesn’t shock me though,” I laugh along with her. I missed this . “I did go over to his house the next day to apologize. He basically said he didn’t believe my apology, but he wants to be friends.”

“Well, that was very big of you,” Emma says as she uncomfortably shifts in her seat. “Just be careful. If he hurts you again, I really will slash his tires this time.”

I throw my head back in a fit of laughter. “Good to know, but no worries. Blake Fisher and I will never be friends again.”

* * *

After hanging out with Emma for a little, I finally head home. I was shocked my mom hadn’t texted me to see where I was. She probably thought I had finally had enough and found some place else to live.

I pull into our driveway and see my brother’s truck sitting near one of the barns. I figure what the hell and decide to get the inevitable out of the way.

After talking to Blake a few days ago, it’s easier to wrap my head around the idea of him and Chris being friends again. I’m not thrilled, but then again, I can’t tell my brother who to be friends with. I can, however, find ways to avoid a front row seat to their friendship.

I aimlessly wander around my family’s small farm until I spot him trying to herd some cows into the barn. “Need some help?” I holler.

“Nope, that’s the last of ‘em. I’m surprised to see you out here.”

“We both know I wasn’t built for the farming life,” I smirk as I look at him.

I’ve been told by multiple people we look alike, but I’ve never seen it. His hair is a bit darker than mine, and his nose is crooked from a fight he got into in middle school. But we do share the same light blue eyes.

“Are you free for a minute? I was hoping we could talk.”

“I really need to fix the fence row on the north end of the property before dark. Can you talk and work?”

I agree and hop on the side-by-side with him. My family owns around 350 acres of land that surrounds the farm. We used to have a much bigger herd, but my dad had to scale things back after he lost a bunch of his help to a bigger farm a few towns over. Thankfully, my brother has helped him build it up again and things are looking good. I feel guilty at times for not pulling my weight, but this life never appealed to me.

Nevertheless, I admire the rolling hills when we head deeper into the countryside. Summertime means miles and miles of greenery that you won’t find in the city. I could sit out here for hours and be completely at peace. Just me and my thoughts. Well, on second thought, that seems a little scary.

We finally pull up to the fence row he was talking about and we both hop out of the side-by-side. Our dad used to make us do this together all the time, so I mechanically take my place as the designated tool holder. I grab the bucket out of the bed and follow Chris.

“I’m assuming you want to ream me out for the whole Blake thing,” he says before taking the plyers from my hand.

“I wasn’t thrilled when I found out you two were all buddy-buddy again, but I’ve had a few days to come to terms with it. I just wish you had told me, so I wasn’t completely ambushed.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve had any time to talk to you, Wren. I’ve only seen you a handful of times this year and any time you are home, you keep to yourself. I mean, you’ve been home for almost a week, and Mom says you hardly ever leave your room.”

Oh great, they’re having little family meetings about me. What’s next? An intervention. “I was unpacking,” I mumble under my breath. “But that’s completely valid. Emma told me that I’ve been a little guarded lately.”

“A little?”

“Fine. A lot,” I admit as I continue to follow him down the fence row and hand him a new fence insulator to replace the old one. “But I would like to get better at that while I’m home. I want to stop being such a . . .”

“Loner?”

I roll my eyes at his quick response. “Not really the word I’d use, but sure. Loner.”

“Well good. Mom and Dad really miss you.”

“Just them?” I say with a smirk.

“Okay, I miss you, too, little sis. Don’t tell Ashley this, but you’re a much better assistant than she is.” He smiles. I begin to relax a little as a feeling of warmth spreads across my chest.

“I am sorry about not giving you a heads-up about Blake. However, I’m not sorry for being friends with him again. He has his . . .” Chris starts to say but then stops himself. “Just go easy on him, okay?”

Weird , I think to myself “He didn’t go easy on me,” I mumble under my breath.

“Listen Wren. Blake is probably going to be around the farm a lot. I’m not saying you have to be friends with the guy, but maybe just be civil. Also, don’t take it out on his truck. You know how much he loves that truck.”

My face starts to get red and Chris breaks out into a fit of laughter. “I’m never drinking again.”