34. Shep
34
Shep
Six Months Later
I slam the tailgate shut, securing all of her belongings. It’s not much, but everything she owns, save the few books I made her leave, fits in the bed of my truck. Despite my complaints about the drive, I know she’s secretly happy to avoid flying. She’d never have gotten this many books on a plane anyway. I know for a fact two of these boxes are filled with nothing but books. She joked that she wanted to keep a copy of everything she worked on at Freestone, but I don’t think she was actually joking. Still, it gnaws at me that there won’t be anything to send, no excuse to see her after she’s back in Pelahatchie. This road trip is our chance for one last hurrah, a final sort of bookend to over a year of living together.
The last few weeks have been tense. While she’s been packing, I’ve been trying and failing to convince her to stay. Since she’s come to live here, I’ve gotten used to her trying to do everything by herself. At every opportunity, I’ve let her know I’m here if she needs me, but she rarely takes me up on it. So I was surprised when she asked me to make the trip. She’s getting better about asking for help, but I know she’s putting on a brave face. Moving back is going to be harder on her than either of us realize.
“Ready?” I ask from the driver’s door.
Her fingers are on the handle, but she’s turned to give the building one last look. From here, I can just make out the corner of our balcony. My balcony. I’m going to have to change everything now, down to the smallest words. I swallow any last-minute objections. She’s hell-bent on going back and I’m not going to stop her if this is what she really wants. If he is what she really wants.
“As I’ll ever be,” she says.
The sentiment echoes in my own chest as Tessa’s gold aviators flash in the cold sunlight. She opens the door and climbs in and in a few minutes, we’re speeding down a stretch of highway that will take her away from me.
We’ve stopped for the night somewhere between Mississippi and Alabama. There aren’t many options for hotels around here, it’s definitely not a five-star town, but when I checked in, the guy at the front desk recognized me and upgraded our room. The only problem is, our suite only has one king bed. Tessa didn’t comment when we brought our bags up, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Did they have to give us the honeymoon suite?”
“He was just being nice,” Tessa says.
“Nice would have been the two beds we asked for.”
“Shep, we can sleep in the same bed. It’s one night. I promise I won’t peek at you in your undies if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Good, because I didn’t bring any with me.” At her open-mouthed look of shock, I throw a pillow at her and she catches it.
“How have we never had a pillow fight? We’ve missed such an important event in our friendship!” She laughs as she throws one back across the huge expanse of bed.
Pursing my lips, I pretend to think. “Is it really that important of a moment, though? I mean, how many pillow fights have you had with Peyton?”
She wears a deadpan expression. “Several. At least once a month.” When she waggles her eyebrows at me, I toss another one at her face. “We take them very seriously.”
“Gross. Do you want to get something to eat?”
She whips the last pillow at me before answering. “Sure. Peyton’s a better pitcher anyway.”
“In her dreams.”
Which is how we end up on the balcony eating greasy cheeseburgers from a place down the road. It doesn’t matter how far south we go, the December air still has a bite to it. I mentioned this to Tessa, but she just ripped the comforter off the bed and carried it outside.
“I never knew you were such a wimp,” she teases over her shoulder.
“I’m not. It’s fucking freezing out there.”
“When’s the next chance we’ll get for one of our balcony chats?” She doesn’t wait for an answer so she doesn’t see just how much that question chastises me. I can’t argue with her logic so I follow, shutting up and bringing the food.
After we’ve eaten, we’re sharing the heavy comforter when I sneak a glance at her profile. There’s not much to say since she’s made up her mind, but at the same time, there’s so much I want to ask. And she’s right. I don’t know when we’ll have time for this again.
“How am I going to make it without my good luck charm?”
She smirks up at me. “It’s stupid that you still believe that after all this time. The real question is what am I going to do without you ? How am I going to survive my dad?”
“You still haven’t talked?”
She shakes her head, looking away. “He doesn’t want to speak to me. Mama always makes an excuse when I call, but I know the truth.”
Since we stopped fooling around, I’ve gotten used to the ache that peeks around a corner every time I want to kiss her. At this point, it’s become second nature to deny myself, but with the sadness now clouding her every feature, I have to fight the urge.
“You think it’s too late for us to make up, don’t you?” Tessa’s always asking my opinion like this, as if she’s already made up her mind as to what I’m thinking.
“No, I just know a thing or two about rocky relationships. You’ve seen me and my dad, so I respect that you’re trying to salvage what’s left of yours.”
“I just want to do it right this time, you know? No secrets.”
“Your dad is nice enough, I bet he’ll be back to treating you like an employee in no time.” She rolls her eyes at my sarcasm. I don’t bring it up often, but Tessa knows how I feel about Dan Jennings. He’s always cared more for his career than his daughter. Everyone in town knows it, they’re just too polite to say it to his face. Call me too protective, but I don’t want him hurting her more than he already has.
She catches me off guard by saying, “Promise you’ll keep going to therapy.”
“What?”
“Now that I won’t be here to make you, I need you to promise you’ll still go. It’s been good for you.”
I will, because it has. Talking to a therapist weekly has done wonders for my game and my headspace, but most of that turn-around can be attributed to the girl sitting beside me. I play along to keep her talking. “Eh,” I shrug. “I don’t know if I’ll have time.”
She gives me a withering look. “You’ll have nothing but time now that you’re not constantly catering to me.”
I snort. “Yeah, because it was such a hard job. You’re going home, not dying.”
“Going back to Pelahatchie feels like dying.” I realize when I look at her that she’s one hundred percent serious. She’s like Beau in that respect, everything shows on her face and I don’t know how no one guessed she wanted to leave before.
“You’re worried about living with your folks?”
“No,” she says simply, earning a frown from me. “I’m terrified.”
I nod. “You don’t have to do it, you know?” One last ditch effort.
“That’s the problem. I do.”
Maybe it makes me a shitty best friend, but I don’t want to talk about her reasons for going home. I don’t want to talk about her parents or bring up the people in town who will inevitably gossip about why she’s back. I don’t want to hear her plan to win Beau over. I don’t want to talk about my little brother at all. I just want this last night as us . So I change the subject.
“With all my free time, maybe I’ll get myself a girlfriend.”
She glances at me quickly, the only tell that she’s now the one caught off-guard. “Wow. A real live girlfriend?” I bump her shoulder and she smirks. “Could you get a really pretty one? Like a Barbie doll with long, blonde hair. That’s who I see you with.”
She makes me laugh out loud with her wide, comical eyes. “If that’s what makes you happy, then sure. I’ll look for one like that.”
We’re quiet for a heartbeat and then she leans her head on my shoulder. “Make sure she likes baseball, okay? Like really likes it. I want you to be happy.”
My heart squeezes painfully, but I try to brush it off as nothing. “I am happy,” but it sounds defensive, even to me.
“You’re not. You could be, though, now that I’m out of your way.”
She says it with such boldness I know she believes it. She understands how hard it has been for me to keep her at a distance. But I have this creeping feeling she might need me just as much as I need her. I’m a walking, talking, baseball-playing security blanket.
When Tessa steps out from under the blanket and moves to go inside, I stand and she stares up at me. “You better not be kidding about getting a girlfriend. You deserve to be happy, Shep.”
We passed a sign a few minutes ago that read, Pelahatchie 20 Miles and she’s been fidgety ever since. I can’t blame her, the closer we get to the town limits, the more my muscles are locking up too. Tessa hasn’t seen her parents since she left, but I haven’t seen my brother either. Not since he came to Houston and found Tessa at my place. We’ve exchanged the occasional text every now and then, but nothing like before. I don’t know what type of welcome I’m going to get and the tension filling the truck killed any attempt at conversation an hour ago.
“Pull over,” Tessa barks at me suddenly. There’s a desperation in her voice that makes me grip the steering wheel tighter.
“Huh?”
“Pull over!”
I take our exit and pull over as quickly as I can. Tessa throws the door open before I’ve even stopped the truck. She gags and throws up over the side. Her back rises and falls as she takes a few steadying breaths. I don’t get out to help, she wouldn’t want me to, but I lean over and place a comforting hand on her back just to let her know I’m there.
When she sits back up, she wipes her mouth and I hand her a bottle of water. As she takes a drink, she shrugs with apologetic eyes.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, irritated at the toll this is taking on her.
“You know why,” she says smartly.
“Tessa, you’re freaking yourself out. Is this really worth it?”
She shakes her head and I can see her squaring her shoulders, shutting down the conversation. “Just drive, Shep. I’m fine.”
“What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing, I’m just nervous to see my dad. That’s all.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know when we started lying to each other,” I mutter.
When we start moving again, miles stretch before she says anything. She looks out the window, but her whispered words float over to me. “What if I can’t get him back?”
“Tessa.” I draw out her name because I don’t know what else to say. It wasn’t her dad at all.
“What if all of this is for nothing?”
I try to brighten my voice. “That’s not how it’s going to go.”
“But I’m saying, what if it does?” She huffs in exasperation. “Sure, it was just surgery this time, but what if it had been worse? What if something bad had happened and I hadn’t been there?” She curls up in the passenger seat, making herself look so much smaller. If we were more, I’d pull this truck over and haul her into my lap. I’d hold her until every last fear could be explained away.
“Are you going back for them or for Beau?”
“Does it have to be one or the other? I don’t want to miss out on the time I have left with my parents, but…” Tessa’s voice breaks and my blood pressure rises in answer. “If I can’t get Beau back, I don’t know if it's enough for me to stay here. Shouldn’t they be enough?”
I shrug. “My parents aren’t enough for me to stay.”
“I feel horrible saying that out loud.” She gives me a grateful look, the one she always gives me when we’re commiserating about home. “I just can’t fail again.”
That’s curious. I narrow my eyes. “Is that what you think happened?”
“Kind of. I said I’d never date Beau and then what happened? I said I’d leave, but here I am, right back again. Do I ever do anything I say I’m going to?”
“Yes,” I tell her firmly. “Yes, you do. Coming back isn’t failing, your priorities changed. You changed. You did everything you said you were going to. Do you even get how big of a deal it was to move to a brand-new place and recreate yourself the way you did?”
“I didn’t recreate myself. I’m still making mistakes.” The sorrow in her tone infuriates me.
“Moving to Houston wasn’t a mistake. Falling for Beau wasn’t a mistake and coming home isn’t one either. Even if he doesn’t take you back, you haven’t made a mistake, you’ve been growing up. That’s what you’re supposed to do.”
“I was supposed to be taking over the General Store. I feel like all I’ve ever done is disappoint my mom and dad. I should be making their lives easier as they get older and all I’ve done is make it harder.”
“You don’t owe them an easy life. You can want that for them, but it’s not your job to be what they want you to be.”
“What am I going to do when they try to push me right back into my old life?” She’s starting to sound slightly hysterical and I wonder how long she’s been chewing on these questions without asking for help.
I rub at my clenched jaw. “Jesus, Tessa. Let somebody in every once in a while, would you?”
She groans and runs her fingers through her hair. “Shep, help me.”
I think it over. “Alright. Here’s what you’re going to do. If they try to convince you to run the store, you’re going to stand up to them. Easy as that. You love them, but that’s not the life you want. If they can’t accept that, then they don’t deserve you.”
“You make it sound so easy, sensei.”
“You have no problem standing up to anyone else. Why are you so scared?”
“Did you miss everything that’s happened in the last two years? You take a baseball to the brain? My family stopped speaking to me because I didn’t do what they wanted me to do.” Her enunciation of each word is heartbreaking, sorrow and anger bleeding into the words.
“Keep it up, smart mouth, and I won’t offer to help anymore.”
She inhales and exhales a huge breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this.” She focuses on a spot on the ceiling to stare at. “What if I missed my chance? What if neither of them want me anymore?”
I settle for trying to make her laugh because I can’t tell her what I want to, it would reveal too much. “Then I’ll bundle you up and take you right back to Houston,” I say instead of, Beau and your dad would have to be the biggest fucking idiots in the world not to want you.
Despite myself, I want her to get what she wants, even if that means it’s not me.