Chapter 44 Rowe
Rowe
“This little one is going to a great home.” Donner lifts the tailgate of his truck and slams it shut. “The community in Colorado will love her.”
I smile at the piggycorn in the kennel. She lifts her nose to the air and sniffs. “Thanks, Donner.”
He grins, looking up at me from under his lashes. “You’ve got a great business here.”
“Appreciate it.”
He keeps smiling and my heart sinks. “Listen, Rowe . . .” He scratches his chin sheepishly. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with—”
“I can’t, Donner. I’m just not . . . I can’t.”
He lifts his hands in a surrender gesture. “No worries. Can’t blame a guy for asking.”
No, I guess I couldn’t. “Let me know when she arrives. I’ll call the community and go over everything about her feed.”
“Will do.” He slaps the tailgate. “See you soon, Rowe.”
“See ya.”
In the past few weeks since Pane’s been gone, it’s been a whirlwind.
Calls have come in from across the country about the piggycorns.
Donner’s community was the first to have one, and with them, we’ve been able to work out some of the logistics, like how much starfizz berries they have to eat in order to make electricity. Turns out, not much.
Which is good for me, as it gives the new seedlings time to grow.
Donner drives off, and from behind me, I hear the screen door open and the sound of shoes slapping against the stairs on their way down.
“Did I just hear correctly?” Cristina says, sidling up beside me. “Did Donner Wright just ask you out on a date?”
I sigh. “He did.”
“And you said no.”
“I said no.”
She thumbs toward his truck. “You rebuked the sex god?”
“You sound like—”
I stop myself before his name can slip out.
“Like who?” she prods. “Pane?”
“Don’t say his name.” I pick up a box that was delivered and walk it up the stairs.
Cristina trails behind me. “Why not? Why can’t I say his name?”
Because it’s too hard, I long to tell her. Just thinking about him makes a wound open in my chest—a raw, seeping wound, one that won’t heal.
Since he’s been gone, I’ve been going through the motions, keeping my chin up and my head down in my work.
But it’s been hard. I’ve started cyberstalking Pane, which doesn’t help anything. However, I do know that he’s set up in New York, taking the reins and running the company.
A truck drives by, blasting the horn. I turn around to see Cristina waving to the Collins boys. “From what I hear, Rhett Collins is still looking for a girlfriend. If you want a purely sexual rebound, I’m sure he’d be great.”
I roll my eyes. “No thanks.” Time to get Cristina off me and back on to her. No offense to my best friend, but talking about Pane Maddox isn’t helping anything. “How was your client this morning?”
“If you think I’m going to just drop this conversation, you’re wrong.” She takes the box from me and I follow her into the house, where she sets it on the front desk. “But since you asked, my client was great.”
We kept Pane’s business plan since everything was set up.
Cristina’s been busy with clients. At night, Ron takes folks on a tour of the garden.
The area bed-and-breakfasts are filled to overflowing with new tourists.
Luckily, the tornado that hit the house didn’t destroy anything in town.
It basically plowed through the countryside.
Mine was the only house that was hit, thank goodness, and when the magic righted the home, all the new additions remained.
So the town of Mystic Meadows has spit-polished itself to gleaming, and the mayor has even announced that we’re going to have a Christmas festival.
Yeah, things have changed since the Pane Maddox effect took place. That’s what folks call it—the Pane Maddox effect. Though Pane would have called it the Rowe Wadley effect.
Either way, he would be proud.
“Have you called him?” Cristina asks.
I shake my head. “No, and he hasn’t called me, either.”
She follows me into the kitchen, where I slip out of my shoes and open the fridge, grabbing a pitcher of water and filling a glass.
She slides onto a stool at the breakfast bar and drops her chin into her folded hands. “And why should he call you, when you’re the one who did the dumping?”
“Look, I did it—”
“For the best, yeah, I know. So you keep telling me. Then why do you look so miserable?”
I speak between gulps of water. “I’m not miserable.”
“You’re not? Could’ve fooled me, with the way you mope around the house, sighing all the time. And don’t think that I don’t know that you’ve been cyberstalking him.”
“You broke into my phone,” I accuse.
She huffs. “You can’t call it breaking in when you gave me your passcode years ago.”
“That’s besides the point,” I mutter.
“Look.” She sits up straight and takes the glass of water that I offer.
“Call him. You two were great. I know his mother said that you were wrong for each other, but since when do you listen to what anyone else says, anyway?” Before I can muster an answer, she continues, “I know you want to do it all on your own. I get it. But there are some things in life that should never be done alone.”
“Like what?”
“Like living.”
I laugh painfully. “Living?”
“Yeah. Do you think that if I had what you and Pane did—correction, do—that I would give it up?”
“There are other—”
“Rich billionaire fish in the sea?”
I shoot my best friend a pointed look. “It’s not about the money.”
“Yes, it is. That’s why you dumped him. Rowe Wadley, you left Pane Maddox because he had too much money, because with it, that meant you wouldn’t have to do anything alone. You’d have to rely on someone.”
“And what about when he left?” I snap. “What would happen to me then?”
She shrugs. “He already left because you made him, and look how miserable you are.”
My heart convulses because Cristina’s right. I am miserable. I am miserable and lonely and in mourning for giving up the one person I wanted to keep.
She rises, knocks back her water, and takes the glass to the sink. “I bet if you called him, he’d answer.”
Without another word, she leaves the room, leaving me to thoughts that do nothing but paralyze me in place.