Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Autumn
It’s past seven when I end up at Mom’s.
I slip into the house, ignoring the chipping paint on the exterior of the house. I don’t know how to worry about that. I can’t. There’s no time. There’s no money.
“Autumn?” Mom says, her tone so much more childlike than it should be.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I say, squatting on the living room floor and pulling out one of Mom’s old picture books.
“I thought you’d be at the game,” she says, drying her hands on a dish rag. She throws the old thing over her shoulder and then sits on the couch across from me.
I sit on the living room floor and flip through the pages of the old book. Mom doesn’t make them anymore. Not since Dad died. “I was. It was crowded and I needed some quiet.”
She doesn’t say anything. She listens, giving me space.
There are too many photos of Ezra in this book. I push the blue book back into the bottom cupboard and grab the next. But it opens to a picture of Ezra between Summer and me, sitting on our old porch swing five days before graduation, if the date scrawled beneath this photo is accurate.
I sigh. “Why are there so many pictures of Ezra in these albums?”
Mom laughs, standing and walking over to peer over my shoulder. “Well, if I wanted a picture of my daughter from ages fifteen to eighteen then he was going to be in it.”
I flutter my eyes upward—but she’s not wrong. I can’t argue. He was my best friend and my boyfriend rolled into one.
“Do you think the best part of your life is over?” I ask my home-bound mother. What a stupid question. And yet, I wait, holding my breath, to hear what she has to say.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Only time will tell.” She settles next to me and flips to the next page of the album. “Your father was always the best part of my life. So, I’d assume yes, it’s over.”
My heart aches. “There’s still a chance for grandchildren. I hear they’re pretty great.”
Mom laughs. “I’d like that. Get to work on that, will you?”
“Oh, I was talking about Summer.”
She hums out a sigh. “Of course you were.”
I stare at a picture of our family in Daniels, at a parade, a grinning Ezra next to me.
“But what about you, my girl?” Mom says.
I fold the book closed. “I don’t have time for things like that. I have responsibilities.”
“Autumn,” she says, her tone kind but ready to teach. “We all have responsibilities. Don’t make them your excuse.”
It isn’t fair—my short temper or her words. And yet, they spark the harshness that leaves my mouth, all while knowing I’ll regret every word. “We do, Mom. We all have responsibilities. By the way, did Dad’s latest medical bills come? I need to pay them. Are you short on freezer meals? I probably need to make you more. I also need to get home and go to bed so I can get up early and go to work.” I bite my tongue before adding— since I’m the only one contributing any financial aid to this family.
I stand and avoid the tears in Mom’s eyes.
I know it isn’t her fault. She’d always been anxious, but when Dad died, it debilitated her for a time. And now, she stays home, always home, while I work and pay the bills. It’s just how it is. It’s what we do.
I walk through the kitchen, grab the bills waiting for me from the desk, and start for the door.
“Autumn?”
I turn, throat aching, and lean in to give Mom a quick hug. “I’m sorry,” I say before kissing her cheek. “See you later.”
And then, I’m gone.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” I shout into my cell.
“Ugh. Enough. I hate it when you grovel,” Meg says. She should be livid with me. I left her at the game last night. “Besides, your boyfriend came back with Billie’s Diet Coke and news that you’d ditched me.”
“Whoa. Not my boyfriend. And I did not mean to ditch you. Ezra made me crazy, and I couldn’t be there any longer. But Meg, your last night in Love and—”
“Stop it. I don’t hold grudges. You know that. And I’ll be back. This was not my last night. Mrs. Kim offered to rent us her mother-in-law’s suite all summer long for cheap. I’ll be back.”
I pull in a shaky breath. I think Meg Miller Jex is a very smart woman. She has come to realize in the last three days that her leaving is a bit triggering for me. She didn’t know my story with Ezra, but now that she does, she sees the same me—only ultra-clear.
“Thanks,” I tell her, “for forgiving me.” My voice feels small when I add, “And for coming back.”
“I’ll come back as long as you come visit,” she says.
“Ugh. I hate that this goodbye is over the phone. I’m so sorry, I should have driven you to the airport. ”
“We both know you couldn’t. There’s a lot to do on the farm before October. I get it.”
And she does. Because Meg Miller—forget the Jex—is the best friend a girl could have. And if I didn’t love Kal so much, I’d hate him for stealing her heart and taking her away to Hawaii.
“So,” Meg says, which sounds a whole lot like a conversation starter… but I can hear the airport noises in the background and I know her plane leaves soon. “What are you going to do about Ezra?”
Before I can craft a planned and calculated response, I answer. It’s not my fault, it’s Meg! My mouth has no filter when it comes to her. Had she known to ask me about Ezra two years ago, I would have spilled my guts to her then too. “Avoid him like the plague.”
“You can’t avoid him, Autumn. You need to work with him to get your bistro built.”
I stare at my ceiling, knowing I should be up already. Knowing there’s work to do. “I know,” I say—because I know that too. I can’t avoid him. No matter that I want to. Why did he ever come back? “I thought he’d gotten married,” I tell her.
And as if she were my personal counselor, she says, “And how did you feel about that?”
“I thought I felt fine. Until I saw him. I mean, I didn’t love the idea, but I’d resigned that we’d both moved on. I didn’t send him away to be miserable.”
“You’ve been different with him around. Angry, almost.”
Almost is not an accurate term. "Yeah," I say.
“Why, sweetie?”
“Because Meg. I got him out. I got him away from his Dad. Why would he come back?” A shaky breath falls from my lips.
“And?” she whispers.
Isn’t that enough? But she knows me too well and I’ve told her too much.
I breathe in, filling my lungs, and tell her what she already knows. “ And my heart can break again. Not like it did when Ezra left. Anger is my only defense. I was doing fine and then—”
“And then you saw him,” she says.
“And then I saw him,” I say.
“But what if anger is only fueling the pain?”
That can’t be right. Anger and avoidance are keeping me from getting hurt again. “I don’t—”
“Crap,” she says, interrupting me. “My plane is boarding. I have to go. I’m so sorry, Autumn. Can we talk later?”
“Yeah. Later. Tell Kal he owes me for the rest of his life.”
“Oh, he knows it.”