Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
Ezra
I’m tempted to ignore the siren going off in Autumn’s kitchen. Really terrible timing, smoke alarm... But then, I suppose I’d rather move than have Autumn’s house burn down.
I sigh but lift myself from Autumn's couch, only to realize there is smoke blazing in her kitchen. Her house might actually be burning down.
“I’ll get the windows,” she says, realizing that this isn’t a drill at the same time I do. While Autumn opens every window in her house, I hurry to the kitchen to find a burning crepe in one of her new and very expensive pans. At least I think that black crusted thing was once a crepe. That’s what she said she’d be preparing.
Searching for a hot pad, I slide my hand into the floral contraption and lift the hot pan and crusted crepe into the sink. Snatching up a rag, I waft the smoke from the kitchen toward the open window.
“Holy smokes,” says a woman beside me—a woman who isn’t Autumn.
“Dessie?”
“Can’t you see me, hon?” She waves in front of her face, attempting to flap away the smoke around us. “Right here.”
“I see you. Now .” I clear my throat against the smoke. “Can you get the door?”
Dessie hurries for the back door and then the front, opening them both up wide. We spend the next ten minutes clearing away the smoke. Though I have no idea how long Autumn’s house is going to smell like charcoal toast.
“What happened?” Dessie asks after we’ve reconvened in the kitchen. Her hands are on her hips, reminding me of when Autumn and I were kids staying too late on the farm, only to be discovered by Dessie.
“I burnt a crepe,” Autumn says, crossing her arms over her chest, a creased line finding its way between her eyes.
“Hmm…” Dessie wrinkles her nose—yep, probably not the greatest thing to hear from the chef you’ve hired. “Looks more like you set the thing ablaze and tortured it for a time.” Her eyes drift to the sink where the black pan and decimated crepe sit.
“It won’t happen again. I’m good at crepes,” Autumn assures her. “I promise.”
I’ve seen Autumn’s bistro menu—there is a whole crepe section. It’s no wonder she’s a bit defensive.
“I know that. What in the world were you doing that—” Dessie’s eyes travel from Autumn to the sink then up to me. “Oh.” Her mouth forms a tight O. “I see.” And while we’re old friends, Dessie’s soft blue eyes travel from my head to my toes as if she’s seeing me for the very first time. “I see. I see.”
“Oh, geez.” Autumn covers her eyes with one hand.
“We are officially back together, forever ,” I say as if this is explanation enough.
“Well—” Autumn starts.
“Nah. We are.” I wrap one arm around her small frame. “We got talking and forgot we were cooking.” Just like when we were kids— we, because there’s no you or I—if we’re going down, we’re going down together.
“ Talking ?” Dessie’s lips pucker and her eyes turn to slits. “Right.” She claps her hands. “Well, we’ll just make sure Ezra’s never back in the bistro kitchen to talk to you, sweetheart. It’ll be fine.”
“Good idea,” I tell her. Which only gets me a smack to the chest from Autumn.
“Well,” Dessie sings, hands on hips. “I guess I’ll go and let you two get back to your conversation .” She snickers and Autumn groans a little beside me.
We follow Dessie to the front door, my arm around Autumn—I’m not letting her go.
“Bye, Dess. See you tomorrow,” Autumn says, every word sounding like an apology.
“You sound so guilty,” I whisper, my lips at her ear. My arm around her tightens. Yep, I don’t see a reason for my arm to be anywhere else ever again. I like it right where it is.
“That’s because I am guilty,” she says, peering up at me.
“Oh, Ezra!” Dessie shakes her head, one foot out the door. “How’d things go with your dad? Don said you went to visit him. I came to ask but got distracted.”
“Wait. You went to Mav’s? I thought the plan was to never see him again. We avoid him. That’s what you said.” Autumn unhinges herself from my side—though my arms have decided that’s exactly where they want to live from this moment on. She stares at me, her brows lowered.
Dessie’s lips fold in on one another. She winks, though it isn’t friendly—it’s apologetic. “You can tell me later.” And then the little snitch is gone.
“Ezra. You went to Mav’s?” She’s completely removed herself from me now. “You said we’d stay away from him. That we’d never see him again as long as we could help it.”
“I did,” I say, no way out but through.
She shakes her head, a small scoff falling from her lips. “How—how could you do that? Why would you? ”
“I needed closure. I know what I said. And I meant it. But Autumn, I needed to tell him a few things.”
“You needed an excuse to get me angry, to get me talking. You know Mav always gets me riled.” She paces in front of me, her ears turning red.
Okay—she’s got me there. I’ve done that before. But not this time.
“I never planned to worry you with this. Seeing Mav was my thing and it’s—” Okay, her face tells me I am saying all the wrong things.
“When?” she says, and her tone is so accusatory. But I’m not letting anything stand in our way. Not again. There won’t be things unsaid, miscommunication, or a ten-year gap ever again.
She can be mad at me all she wants. But she will get over this. And we will be fine.
“Today,” I say. “I went after I finished at your mom’s place.”
“And you didn’t tell me? Sure, I think it’s an idiotic idea. Sure, it goes against everything we said about never seeing him again, but if you felt so strongly, I would have gone with you.”
I smile and reach for her hand. But she isn’t ready to forgive me yet. She wraps her arms in a tight fold.
“I know. Believe me,” I say, taking one step closer. “I know that you would have come. You’ve been saving me our whole lives, Autumn.”
Her glare falters at my words.
“But I needed to do this for myself. And no one else. And,” I say, cupping her cheek, “I needed to do it alone.”
“And?”
“And now, I won’t ever need to do anything alone again. I promise, you can help me make all of my decisions from here on out. If you want to go to the bathroom with me, I’ll let you.”
Her eyes flutter up in a roll. “No. What happened with Mav? What did you need to say?”
I breathe in. Mav Bennett will never be an easy subject for me. He never really loved me and that isn’t an easy thing to understand as a son. “I ended things.”
“You hadn’t seen him in ten years, Ezra—not until the other night. That wasn’t ending enough?”
I pinch my lips and shake my head. “It wasn’t. I needed to tell him that I don’t need him. That I can live in Love or anywhere else and not be haunted by him.”
Her brows pinch so much that I’m tempted to ease my thumb over the worry lines she’s creating between her eyes. “Is that true?”
“It is.” I reach for her hand and this time she lets me take it. “Talking to him today… I felt—” I shake my head, peering at the ground.
“Go on.”
“Pity. I only felt pity, Autumn. I didn’t feel the anger or regret or remorse that I’d wasted so much of my life on. I felt pity. He has a son—one worth loving, one willing to forgive him, and he’s too consumed with the drink and his own anger to care.”
“Too stupid to care,” she says. Slowly, her arms wind around my middle and she hugs me close, making sure I know she sees me. Her cheek presses to my chest and she hugs me tight. A shaky breath falls from her lips. “I love you, Ezra.”
My chest warms with her words. I love her. And no amount of time could change that. “This ended pretty well for our first fight.”
“Ha!” She tilts her head, peering up at me. “This was far from our first fight.”
“Our first fight now that we are officially back together.”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure all we’ve done since you came back is fight.”
“No,” I say. “Not true.”
She shrugs one shoulder. “You’re proving my point with every word you speak.”
“Then stop talking already,” I tell her, leaning down and pressing my lips to hers. She can fight with me all she wants as long as I end the day at her side.
I tug on her hand.
“Where are we going?”
“We aren’t staying here, not in this smoke-infested place. I’m taking you home with me.”
And for the first time in a long time, Autumn doesn’t argue with me.