Homesick

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

“S o, what do you think?” I say before closing my laptop.

“I think it’s great, Wren. You’re going to knock their socks off,” Sheila says with a wink. “When are you sending it to the lady at the visitor’s bureau?”

“I don’t know. I want to get one more opinion before I send it to her,” I answer.

I spent the last week organizing all the work I’d done for the Rustic Inn and other projects into a portfolio to present to the visitor’s bureau. Once the director sees my work and is hopefully impressed, she’ll vouch for me at other small businesses in the community. This could be a key first step in establishing my own digital marketing agency in Honey Grove.

Starting my own agency will be a lot of work and a lot of boutique agencies don’t have long lifespans. My strategy is to find small businesses like the Rustic Inn and help them live up to their potential by attracting customers outside of our small town.

A lot of the small businesses in Honey Grove don’t have social media, so the biggest challenge is communicating its value. Many of these businesses are run by people I have known my entire life. It’s just a matter of getting them to pay me for services they think they can do themselves for free.

“I wouldn’t worry so much, Wren. They’re already impressed with your work. They just want a face to go with the name. I’m sure you’ll make a great impression. You made a great first impression on me,” Sheila says before stalking off to the back to do some paperwork.

She’s right. I did make a good first impression on her. I think back to when we were kids and the first time I visited Sheila and Blake’s house with my brother. He went barreling in the door without a care in the world, while I politely entered and made sure to tell Sheila what a lovely home she had. She instantly got a kick out of my grown-up behavior and made sure to always tell Blake what a great girl I was, especially when I was in the room.

After the break-up, I took a step back, but having her back in my life now makes me regret the years I missed with her. Sheila was like a second mom growing up, so it hurt even worse when I lost her and Blake at the same time.

I pop open my laptop again and get comfy on the worn-out bar stool I had claimed as mine over these past few weeks. The bar is in a weird midafternoon lull that typically happens between lunch and dinner. I take advantage of the quiet and carefully scan my portfolio.

A few minutes go by, and I don’t even notice the ringing sound that goes off when a customer enters. Just as I’m leaning into my computer screen to move one of my pictures, I see a tousled mess of brown hair floating above my eye line.

“You know you really shouldn’t be that close to your screen,” Blake says with a warm and inviting smile.

I let out a huff of annoyance and lean back away from the tiny screen. A small sigh of relief escapes me when my back cracks from the sudden alertness of my spine.

“Oh hush, Fisher. I think you have enough brain damage for the both of us from the weeklong bull riding stint you had.”

“Hey! I could’ve gone pro if I didn’t get hurt so early in my career.”

“You fell off a practice bull and barely hit your head.”

“Ahh whatever. What are you working on, Campbell?” Blake questions, quickly changing the subject.

I laugh at his not-so-smooth diversion and turn my laptop toward him.

“I’m putting together a portfolio to send to the director at the visitor’s bureau. She said she has some businesses that she could recommend my services to. I’m thinking about starting my own little agency,” I say, looking down at my hands folded in my lap.

For a few minutes, I’m met with a brick wall of silence. I look up and see Blake scrolling through my work. His face twists into a serious smolder, like he’s carefully evaluating each slide.

He squints his eyes slightly and a wrinkle begins to form between his brows as he concentrates. I feel a warm buzzing in my bones that radiates up to my heart. I love that he’s so entranced in my work or at least that he’s pretending to be.

After a few more moments of scrolling, Blake sits up straight on his side of the bar and brings his eyes to mine. A glimmer of a smile creeps up on his mouth and I can’t help but to mirror his expression.

“Wren, your work is . . . amazing. You’ve always been smart, but this. Well, I think you could really help some of the small businesses in this area.”

“You don’t think slide five could use more insights? I really wanted to—” Before I can finish my sentence, Blake cuts me off.

“Wren, this presentation is going to blow them away.”

“Thank you. I guess I’m just nervous because this is one of the first steps I’m taking toward starting my own business. This could be great, or it could be another failure on a long list of many.”

Blake looks at me for a second and puts on his concentration face again.

“The way I see it is the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward. It’s going to be a lot of hard work and you’ll probably find situations where you doubt yourself more than once, but I think you’ve got a real shot here.”

It’s frustrating how supportive Blake is being in this moment. He’d always been my biggest cheerleader and there for a while, I forgot how good it felt to feel the warmth of his praise. I brace my hands against the wooden curve of the bar for balance. It’s becoming harder and harder to resist his charms.

“What are you doing here, Blake? I can get your mom if you want,” I say, attempting to shy away from the spotlight.

“No, I came to see if you wanted to ride together to your brother’s place tonight.”

“You couldn’t text me?”

“I was in the neighborhood. I figured I’d stop by,” Blake says while reaching one arm up to scratch his lower neck.

I can see his eyes darting back and forth like he’s trying to avoid eye contact with me. Is Blake nervous ? I ask myself. I had only seen him nervous a handful of times and that included the first time he told me he loved me. I can still remember the same vulnerable look in his eyes and it made my heart soar. But now, all I feel is sheer panic.

“I’m just going to drive myself,” I blurt out. “I just think it would be weird if we showed up together. My brother might get suspicious.”

The foggy look in Blake’s eyes immediately clears up and he gets up from the bar stool. He clears his throat before saying, “yeah, that makes sense. I didn’t really think about that.”

There’s an awkward moment of silence between us as I decide what to say next. I try to make up some excuse about having to get back to work, but he beats me to the punch.

“I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you later, Wren.”

And just like that he’s gone. I feel like I’ve disappointed him, but he knows exactly how I felt when we started this arrangement. I know how our love story ended, and I wasn’t about to repeat it. I knew how devastating it was to lose Blake Fisher.

* * *

As I drive toward my brother’s house, I keep stealing quick glances at my rearview mirror expecting to see a rusty old pick-up. I keep telling myself I couldn’t care less if I see him, but I know that’s a lie. Over these past few weeks, my feelings have slowly shifted from dreading seeing Blake to hoping to see him.

I attempt to wrap my hands around the steering wheel to keep myself grounded, but I still feel uneasy. Blake visiting me at work today threw me off and I’m doing everything in my power to ignore the obvious.

After a few more minutes of endless anxiety over a silly boy, I pull up to my brother’s house. It’s cute, but I know his dream is to build a place closer to the farm.

We used to sit on the front porch at Mom and Dad’s and he’d go on and on about the huge house he planned to build. At one time, he even talked about making one of the rooms mine so I would have a place to stay when I visited home.

I slam my car door shut, but before I can shuffle inside, I see Blake’s pick-up coming down the driveway. I go to walk inside, but my legs feel cemented to the ground. A small part of me wants to know what he’s thinking before we go inside the lion’s den.

Blake parks his truck next to my car and gives me a weird look when he sees I’m waiting for him. Before I can say anything, he makes his way to the front door and I follow suit. His long legs carry him in front of me and I feel my temperature rise when my eyes wander to his Wranglers. I never knew I could be so attracted to a simple pair of jeans.

He pauses before he gets to the door, and I almost stumble right into his back. He turns and my eyes snap to his.

“Everything okay, Campbell?”

“Yeah,” I respond. “You’re not mad about earlier, right? I feel like we left things off on a weird note.”

Blake’s eyes shift from side to side and before he says anything, I can already tell it’s going to be a lie.

“No, we’re cool,” he says in a deep yet calming voice. “After you.”

I brush past him, and my breath catches when our hands touch. A small tingly feeling washes over my body. Before I have time to process it, I see Ashley standing in front of me with her arms folded and the look of a disappointed mom.

My mood completely changes, and I try to contain my smile. She’s wearing the apron I got her for Christmas a few years ago. It’s a standard apron, but just with hundreds of pictures of Chris’s face on it.

“And where have you two been?” she says while tapping her foot on the ground.

I turn to Blake and realize how it must look with us walking in together. “You said six. It’s like five after.”

She gives me one more frustrated glare and says, “Mmhmm. Wren, come help me set the table.” She does the cutest little spin and heads back to the kitchen where their dining table also sits.

I turn to Blake and try to put on my best poker face. As soon as I look at him, he gives me a kind smile and my heart starts to beat uncontrollably.

I head to the kitchen while I assume Blake is off to find my brother in the living room. As soon as I enter the small space, I head to the fridge to pour myself a glass of wine.

When I turn around, I almost run into my nosey sister-in-law.

“Jesus Christ, Ash. I know it’s a small kitchen, but you can afford to give me some space,” I say cheekily.

“What’s going on between you and Blake?” she questions, not holding back for even a second. As a guidance counselor, Ashley knows how to get the information she wants and fast. She has no problem saying what everyone else is thinking. Well, I hope not everyone.

I tip my wine glass toward my lips and take a long sip before responding. I reply with a simple, “nothing,” before weaving around her to the counter where the food sits. The less I say, the better.

“Hmm, let’s recap, shall we? The last time I saw you and him in the same area, you were cursing his name while hosing cow shit off your ass. Now you’re showing up to my house together with weird-ass energy between you two.”

“Ashley Lynn, I’ve never heard so many curse words in the same sentence.” I decide to do what I do best and use humor to brush off very fair accusations. I can tell she’s not amused by my answer by the way she sternly snaps her hands to her hips.

“Listen, Ash, there’s nothing going on. You and I both know I would be an idiot to give him a second chance so please just drop it. Also, Chris is like five feet away and if he hears any of this conversation, there’s no telling how he’ll react.”

Ashley’s face changes as she realizes her husband is in the other room. She knows better than anyone how Chris felt about our relationship because she was the one he whined to the most about it. She throws a quick glance over her shoulder and then looks back at me with a caring warmth.

“Okay, fine. You know I love Blake and I think he’s great, but I also love you and I don’t want to see you get hurt again. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

I smile at her sentiment.

“I promise.”

* * *

Dinner is going well. A little too well. We’re talking like four old friends catching up and reminiscing over old memories. I have to restrain myself from looking over at Blake every time he laughs, or I feel him staring at him. I’m trying my best to act platonic.

“I beat you fair and square, Fisher. You’re just remembering it differently,” my brother says, beaming from ear to ear. Blake just shakes his head, and he laughs off whatever disagreement they just had. Just as he looks up, we make eye contact.

Over the years, I’ve learned how to translate just about every look Blake has. I’ve learned how to know if he’s having a bad day or if he’s bursting at the seams over something he’s excited about.

Sometimes I know what he’s trying to say before he even does, which is how I know how badly he wants to know if I’m okay. I would love to give him a reassuring smile, but that would give him false hope.

I quickly look back down at my almost empty plate and bring my spoon to a sad pile of soggy mashed potatoes. Ashley is good at many things, but cooking is not one of them. My pity party for one is interrupted by the chef herself.

“So, Blake, how is work going?”

“Pretty good. The doc has been letting me go on house calls by myself, so that’s been cool. I did almost get pummeled by a very angry bull the other day. That was a fun one.”

“I bet you’re excited to start school in the fall then,” Ashley says before picking up her drink and taking a long drag.

I sense a shift in the mood, so I test my luck and look at Blake again. He seems tense as he stares across the table at Ashley. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair before responding.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.”

“It’s going to be weird not having you around, but I’m proud of you man,” Chris says before patting Blake’s shoulder.

He flinches at the gesture which tells me this conversation is uncomfortable for him. I look across the table and see Ashley’s mood has shifted, too. It’s almost as if she’s taunting him.

“Wisconsin is a big move for you. I don’t think you’ve ever been that far from home before. Right, Blake?”

Ashley’s question is almost like a slap as Blake absorbs it from his end of the table.

He’s leaving .

I’m not sure how to feel about this new piece of information. I should be relieved that I won’t have to pretend like things can go back to normal between us, but instead I feel . . . sad? I feel like I’m losing him all over again. Even if he isn’t mine to lose.

I take a deep breath and push myself up onto my feet.

“I’m going to start clearing the table.”

I feel an intense need to get to a safe place where I can process all the bullshit that’s been thrown at me within a matter of hours. I need to be alone. Alone, I can sit with my feelings. Alone, I can figure out the best way to navigate these next few weeks with Blake. I just want to be alone.

As I head to the kitchen, I can feel my heart rate speed up. My face begins to heat and I can feel walls begin to close. I need to get out , now . I quickly drop the plates I gathered in the sink and ignore hushed whispers in the other room. I sneak out the back door and attempt an Irish goodbye.

I hate that I’m reacting this way to Blake’s news, and I hate that he hid it from me. I also hate how I feel like his decision not to tell me is all my fault. I’m the one who told him I didn’t want to talk about anything serious, but I stop myself because he should have told me. Even if it was to set an expiration date on our arrangement.

I can feel my stomach sink every time I repeat the phrase, he’s leaving . I don’t want to react this way, but my body isn’t giving me a choice. I’m overloaded with feelings I’ve pushed to the side for weeks and now it feels like they’re all culminating.

Before I can reach the safety of my car, I see Blake approaching from the front of the house. I can see his mouth moving, but I can barely hear him over the beating of my own heart. I think about running, but I know that won’t solve anything. I need to put a stop to things between us here and now.

“Are you okay?” he asks, reaching out to me. I flinch at his hands when I think about what I have to do next.

It takes all my self-control to stand as straight as possible and plaster a bored yet serious look on my face. “I’m fine, Blake. I just . . .”

For a second, I stop myself. I have no right to be upset about him leaving. This thing between us has landed me right back where I had been six years ago. Desperate to hold onto my first love.

“I just wasn’t expecting that news,” I say before taking a deep breath. “I think we should cool things off between us for now. We shouldn’t have started anything to begin with.”

Blake’s entire body deflates at my statement. I can see the color draining out of his face. Every bone in my body is begging me to hold him until the pain goes away. Why did I let myself get swept up in this again ?

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Wren. I began this summer trying to respect your boundaries, but then when you finally let me in, I took the opportunity to be close to you again. I miss you so damn much and there’s not a day that goes by when I don’t hate what I did to you six years ago.”

His words ricochet off my mind and leave my heart begging for more.

“Thank you for saying that, Blake,” I stammer out before taking a long sigh. “I think we both just got caught up in the moment. Now it’s time to face reality.”

“It wasn’t just a moment, Wren. You’ve been everything to me since I moved to this town and Honey Grove hasn’t felt like home since you left. I—I still love you and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

My entire body goes rigid at his words. I stare down at my hands, willing the tears to stay put until I’m alone. My willpower is useless though, because two seconds later the tears begin to drip onto my cheek.

“Blake, we can’t do this. You’re leaving and I’m not sure what the future holds for me. We’ll just end up right where we were six years ago, and I don’t think I can go through that again. It took me years to be able to come back here and not break down at every corner in this town that reminds me of you.”

Blake takes a step toward me, but I take a step back. Now I’m back-to-back with the side of my car and I have nowhere to go.

“I have to go. I can’t do this anymore,” I whimper before turning toward my car door.

Before I can open the door, Blake’s hand is resting on my shoulder.

“What if I told you I’m not leaving? I’ve been on the fence about moving for a while and I don’t want to leave my mom either. Wren, there are closer schools.”

If only it was that easy . I take another deep breath and keep my back toward him. If I turn around, I know I’ll melt into his arms.

“I can’t ask you to do that, Blake. You didn’t ask me to stay when we didn’t get into the same university, and I won’t ask you to stay now. This is your dream, and you shouldn’t have to sacrifice it for me. Maybe what we had is meant to stay in the past.”

Not being able to bear the look on his face, I slide Blake’s hand off my shoulder and finally open the door. My heart feels like it’s being squeezed so hard I can barely breath.

As I pull out of the driveway of my brother’s house, I make the mistake of looking in my rearview mirror. Blake is still standing in the driveway with his hand over his chest.

The tears come in waves now, but I let them. The drops feel cool over my hot cheeks, putting out a fire that I didn’t know was there anymore.