Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
CALLIE
My relationship with the summer festival is complicated.
As a kid, it was my favorite thing about Big Ridge.
The smell of funnel cakes, the twinkle lights strung between trees, and the way the whole town comes together like one big family to put it together.
As I got older though, I realized it was yet another way the residents of Big Ridge pandered to the tourists.
I can’t be too mad though, tourism is what keeps Big Ridge alive. I only hate it because there’s so much more to this mountain town than the tourist shops. The lakes, the rivers you can wade in if you’re okay with freezing your feet off, the fog that slithers through the mountain peaks.
Somehow, tourism in Big Ridge went from being about nature to yet another way for people to consume in excess.
I think I’d be more okay with the tourism if people kept to hiking, camping or fishing.
But they infiltrate our streets and with them come big corporations buying up properties for bespoke shops that’ll run small businesses into the ground.
Mom hums along to an old Fleetwood Mac song playing from a portable speaker as we stretch a plastic table runner and place it on a newly stained picnic table.
“These tables came out nice,” I say, smoothing my hand over the tablecloth as Mom grabs whatever is next. Someone refurbished them for the festival. I have an inkling of who that someone might be before Mom confirms it.
“Knox and his brothers fixed them up. They do it every year now.”
My stomach somersaults at the mention of them. It’s been impossible to forget they exist. They’re everywhere. In my memories, in town, at work, even in my mom’s heart.
“The boys are good to this town,” she continues, oblivious to my inner turmoil. “Their daddy would be proud.” She blinks back tears. Our families were close.
I swallow hard, still processing the fact that Frank Williams is gone.
“I wish I’d known,” I murmur, more to myself than to Mom.
Mr. Williams did so much for Big Ridge. Fixed up cars without charging an arm and a leg, helped ensure everything was functional for summer festival, built tables for new families that couldn’t afford them.
He made me and the boys a tree house, too.
Mom pauses, a stack of dessert stands in her arms. “That was my fault. You said you didn’t want to hear anything about the Williamses, and I assumed that meant Frank too.”
“How could you not know that’s something I’d want to hear?”
She frowns. “You were so upset when you left, Cal. Completely heartbroken.” Her voice catches. “Maybe I was wrong to keep it from you, but I thought you were finally happy, and I didn’t want to be the one to ruin it after everything you went through.”
I get it. I wasn’t exactly rational when I left and how I’d react to their names. I’m not mad at her, more mad at myself for being so closed off. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Baby, you don’t have to be sorry. You were only trying to protect yourself.”
Before I can respond, a familiar voice sends shivers shooting down my spine.
“Morning, Sally Mae.” The deep timbre of Knox’s voice strokes familiar longing within me, but I shut it down. He betrayed me. I keep my back to him, focusing intently on centering the tablecloth like it’s the most important job in the world.
“Knox,” Mom greets him warmly. “Just the man we need. These display stands are getting too heavy for these old bones.”
I can practically hear the smile in his voice. “Your bones aren’t old, Sally. I bet you could still out work half this town.”
Mom laughs, and I hate how natural it sounds. Like nothing changed. Like he didn’t destroy my life. Whose side is she on? The silence stretches, and I can feel both of them looking at me.
“I need to check on those pies in my car,” Mom says suddenly. There are no pies. “Callie, why don’t you show Knox where to put the stands?”
My head whips around. “Mom!”
But she’s already walking away, throwing a wink over her shoulder that she doesn’t even try to hide. Traitor.
I grab another tablecloth, refusing to look at Knox as I walk to the next bare table.
From my peripheral vision, I see him set the stands down on one table.
I ignore him and unfold the tablecloth and toss it on top of the table.
Knox grabs one of the corners on the opposite side before I can stretch it out myself.
“I got it,” I mutter, trying to take control of the entire thing.
He doesn’t let go. “I’m trying to help.”
We stretch it over the table in tense silence. When I adjust it to make it perfectly centered, Knox deliberately shifts his side an inch to the left. Now it’s crooked. I narrow my eyes, centering it again. He moves to mess it up again, the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Knox Williams, don’t you fucking dare.” The words come out as a dangerous growl.
A slow smirk spreads across his face like he’s won something. He circles the table, stepping into my space. My first instinct is to run, to put as much distance between us as possible, but his words from our last encounter echo in my head.
You can’t keep running.
I plant my feet, hands on my hips, and scowl up at him. He’s close enough that I can smell the faint scent of motor oil and pine that always clung to him. He’s trimmed his scruff since the last time I saw him, and I’ve never wanted to run my fingers through a beard until now.
“Well?” I snap, hating how my pulse races. Loathing how I still think he’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever met.
He sighs, looking me dead in the eye, his gaze shooting straight to my soul. “It wasn’t me.”
I know exactly what he’s talking about but pretend not to anyway. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He narrows his eyes. “You’re still a terrible liar. Penelope took my phone,” he says, searching my face. “I was passed out, and she took my phone and recorded that video. She’s the one who posted it.”
My heart skips, a spark of hope igniting that I desperately try to extinguish. I’m still too hurt to fully trust his words. “If you came here to give me some lame ass excuse—”
“It’s not an excuse, Cal. It’s the truth.” His voice cracks with emotion. “Penelope posted the video. I never,” he swallows hard, “ever would have done something like that to you.” His gaze pleads with mine. “Come on, Callie, why would I do that?”
I shrug, wanting to believe him more than I care to admit. “I don’t know, maybe you were jealous.”
“I was,” he admits, surprising me. “I was jealous of them. That they got to have you and I never did. That you never wanted me like that. That—” he cuts off and takes a deep breath, eyes darkening.
“I was jealous that they got to see parts of you I never did. The way you’d let your guard down around them.
The way you’d curl up between them during movie nights. ”
My mouth goes dry as he continues. I never curled up with him because I was always nervous. Unsettled by his intensity. A black hole that would swallow me whole if I got too close.
“I wanted it to be me. Not my brothers.”
“Let me get this straight,” I say, voice shaking a little. Knox wanted to be with me? Why did he date Penelope then? “Your bitchy girlfriend stole your phone, posted that video of me with your brothers on your socials? Why, Knox? Why would she do that?”
“Because she knew what you meant to me.”
The words steal my breath away, but they gut me at the same time. All I ever wanted was to mean something to him. “Then why didn’t I?” I whisper the question.
His eyes bore into mine. “I was terrified to lose you.” Swallowing, he starts to say more, confessions I don’t know that I can handle. I hold up my hand, too emotional to hear another word.
“Please don’t,” I whisper. My throat burns with a complicated mix of hurt, relief, and fear that he’s lying. I blink rapidly, desperate not to cry in front of him. “You need to go.”
“Callie.” The desperation in his tone tugs at my heart strings.
But I’ve spent too long being mad to let it go in a blink. I don’t even know if I can trust him. He reaches for me and my heart leaps into my throat. I recoil as if he struck me. He frowns, seeing too much. I can’t take these confessions and him being protective of me right now.
“Please go, Knox,” I beg, stepping away as a fat tear tracks down my cheek. Dammit. I swore a long time ago that I wouldn’t give Knox Williams any more of my tears.
He rears back at the sight as if it physically pains him. His shoulders slump, and he backs away as Mom returns, her timing too convenient. She probably listened in on the whole conversation.
“You better get going, Knox,” she says, shooting him a pointed look that only a mother can master.
He nods, casting one last glance at me before walking away, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
My focus shifts to Mom. “Did you know?” Is that why she’s not mad at him?
“He told me and your father a few years after you left.” She sighs and shakes her head. “But it’s not my place to apologize for him, and you weren’t ready to hear it.”
Nodding, I sniff, swiping at my face. “He didn’t do it.”
“No he didn’t.” Mom wraps her arms around me, and I crumple in her embrace. “Oh sweetheart, it’s okay,” she soothes, stroking my hair as tears stream down my face. “Let it out.”
And I do. Ten years of hurt, betrayal, and confusion pour out of me in heaving sobs against her shoulder. But beneath it all is something worse: the tiny, dangerous hope that maybe, just maybe, Knox didn’t betray me after all.
The afternoon heat settles around us like a warm blanket as Mom pours another round of lemonade for the ladies gathered on our wraparound porch.
She invited everyone over after we were done for the day because that’s what she does.
She takes people in and makes them feel loved.
I take a sip, enjoying the perfect balance of sweet and tart while half-listening to Alice prattle on about her daughter’s wedding plans.
Some of these ladies I barely remember, but it’s clear they remember me.
They don’t do much to hide their curiosity, sneaking glances my way when they think I’m not looking.
Nosy bitches. I get it though. The wild child who fled Big Ridge has finally come home.
I can practically hear their thoughts buzzing around me like blood thirsty mosquitoes.
“Callie, can you grab the cobbler from the kitchen?” Mom asks when she notices how I’m clutching my lemonade.
Oh thank fuck. The thing I hate most about small towns is the gossip mill.
It’s vicious and catches like wildfire. “I’m on it.
” I slide out of my rocking chair, grateful for the escape.
My bare feet pad across the worn wooden floor, and for a second, I’m seventeen again, rushing through this same house, late for some adventure with—
No. Not going there. I don’t think I can handle a walk down memory lane after the bombshell Knox dropped on me today.
When I return with the cobbler and a spatula, a flash of bright red hair catches my attention. My heart does a little flip as I recognize the petite figure walking up our driveway.
“Lily?” I call out, nearly dropping the pan in my hurry to set it down.
She looks up, those familiar green eyes narrowing before her freckled face splits into a grin. “Callie Mae Harrison! Get your ass down here!”
The ladies on the porch exchange scandalized looks at her language, but Mom laughs.
I race down the steps, colliding with Lily in a hug that nearly knocks us both over. She smells like coconut shampoo and sunscreen, exactly the same as she did in high school when we’d go swimming at the lake.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were back in town?
” She pulls away, punching my arm lightly.
“I had to hear it from Aspen!” Her tone is light, but I see touches of hurt in her gaze.
She never admitted it out loud, but I always sensed that she felt a bit like a third wheel when the three of us would hang out.
She never was, but she moved to Big Ridge in sixth grade, missing pieces of my and Aspen’s early friendship.
Guilt carves through me. Dammit. I keep screwing up. “I’m sorry.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “It’s been an adjustment.”
Exhaling dramatically, she says, “Well, I guess I forgive you.” Her face lights up. “We’re having a bonfire tonight at Ridge Lake. You’re coming.”
It’s not a question. A demand. My punishment for not calling her. My stomach flutters. Ridge Lake. That’s where everyone goes.
“I don’t know, Lil,” I start, rubbing my arm.
“Who’s going to be there?” Mom asks, appearing beside us with such convenient timing. If there was a world championship for eavesdropping, she’d be the winner.
“The usual crowd.” Lily waves her hand dismissively. “Me, Aspen, some people from town. Nothing crazy.”
Yeah, right. The usual crowd could mean anything—or anyone, and bonfires at Ridge Lake always get out of hand. My chest tightens with years of memories, quickly soured by one that’s haunted me the most.
“What if Penelope’s there?” I whisper, hating how vulnerable I sound.
Lily rolls her eyes. “So what if she is? We can take her.”
“Lily, no fighting,” Mom chastises.
My friend smiles sweetly. “Oh, I’d never.”
Mom squints at her, not believing one word she says, but something softens her features. “You should go, honey.” Mom squeezes my shoulder. “You can’t hide from the past forever.”
“I’m not hiding,” I protest, but even I know that’s a lie.
Lily links her arm through mine. “Aspen’s going too. We’ll pick you up.”
The mention of Aspen tips the scales. With the two of them by my side, at least I’ll have safety in numbers. “Fine,” I say, ignoring the flutter of anxiety in my chest. “But I’m not promising to stay if things get weird.”
“Hell yes!” Lily bounces on her toes. “We’ll pick you up at eight. Wear something cute and bring your suit. You know how the lake gets.”
I do know. I know every inch of Ridge Lake. I learned to swim there. Had my first kiss there. Painted the sunrise there more times than I can count.
“Eight o’clock.” I nod, smiling for real this time.
Lily grins back. “I missed you, Callie. It’s really good to have you home.”
Nodding, I fight back a wave of regret for how I treated her and Aspen.
I left both of them without saying bye. I kept in contact, but not as well as I should have.
Honestly, I’ve been a pretty shitty friend.
Mom is right. I can’t keep trying to avoid people.
If I’m going to be living here, I need to reclaim my town and make amends with the people I hurt when I left. That starts tonight.