40. Harlow
Harlow
I didn’t venture into Sweater Weather or even downtown today. The Earl Grey tea bags I found in the cupboard of my kitchen hadn’t quite solved my caffeine craving like Kasey’s lattes did. But I couldn’t bear talking to any Autumn Creek locals right now.
So, despite the lack of morning coffee, I managed to get out of bed nice and early to avoid seeing Jude. I packed up my laptop, a book, and my drawing supplies into a tote bag, and shut the door to my apartment behind me. Then I walked out into the foggy morning air.
And just in time, too. I’d made it to the edge of the nearby field when I heard a sound from the porch. Jude was knocking at my door.
There was no one inside to answer so he stood back, leaning against the old porch railing, waiting. His back was facing me, broad and tall, but there might have been a slight slump in his posture.
I let him stand there as I walked off toward one of the orchards.
The sight of him burned under my skin, all of the emotions he brought to the surface like hot coals scorching me. I pulled out my phone and sent a text to him.
Harlow: I’m not ready to talk yet. I just want to be alone right now.
It hurt to type out the words, but it needed to be done. Even though I could feel my chest aching with hollowness.
I had been more than understanding. The social media situation had been a screw-up, but after that meeting—where he’d pushed me away and made it known just how much of an outsider I truly was—I didn’t want to hear anything he had to say.
My determined stride carried me through the apple trees and grassy fields, until I finally set up in a shaded spot. I slipped my headphones on and set my music blaring, to stop any thoughts that dared to storm into my head.
I read and doodled in the margins of my recent read, even as my inspiration barely flowed, until it hit nine o’clock, then I connected my laptop to my hotspot and fell into work.
I hadn’t felt reluctant to start in such a long time—the Sunday scaries were something I left back in London—but this morning I felt it.
I could see Jude’s passion intertwined with my own in every part of our work.
Every photo had a memory behind it. Every sentence was filled with love for this town that I couldn’t stay in.
And, of course, there were so many mentions of his name.
[email protected] was there, sitting at the top of almost every one of my emails, or just his cursive signature at the bottom of a contract.
Every time I saw it, a flashing neon sign went off in my head: He betrayed you.
I could see it clearly, vintage and red like something you’d spot at a bar, with the subheading He doesn’t want you here.
I pushed that image back into a corner of my mind and began looking at permits and paperwork until I found myself so engrossed that I couldn’t focus on anything else. I may have been angry and empty, but I still cared way too much about this festival. Half-assing it wasn’t an option.
All I could do right now was to go out with a bang.
Hours later, I eventually wandered back to the house, but only after my stomach had been growling for food so loudly that I couldn’t focus on work.
I should have prepared better, made a sandwich or something, but I wasn’t exactly an expert at sneaking around a farm.
If I was feeling slightly more stubborn tomorrow, maybe I would resort to apple picking and stay out in the orchards forever.
The Georgian-style red brick house reared up in front of me, and I found Jude’s red truck missing from the driveway. Good. Not that I was hiding or anything, I just didn’t want to face him. At least knowing he wasn’t here made me stand a bit taller as I opened the door to my apartment.
I ran inside and took some leftovers from the fridge, eating the autumnal salad slowly and monotonously, even though just over a day ago it had been delicious.
But now, chewing it just served as a procrastination tool.
I’d officially exhausted all the tasks I could do without talking to other people.
I could just email Jude politely and professionally, but I shuddered at the thought.
Not that I couldn’t put this mess behind us to focus on work—putting my career before everything else was kind of my expertise—it just felt so impersonal to email the person who took up every inch of my waking thoughts. I hated the idea.
My instinct was always to text Jude. Even if it was about work. Our conversations slipped between questions about vendors and joking with each other. I couldn’t do that now.
I didn’t even know where I stood with him.
We fucked in a cornfield, I gave him a blow job in an apple orchard, and I live in his damn house.
He’s the first person I thought of to call when something went wrong, and something about him felt like home.
But right now I just wanted to shake him by the shoulders, demanding to know what I did wrong.
I put my plate in the sink and walked back outside to breathe in the cool air. I closed my eyes to relax as I pressed my boots into the dirt, but after a few steps someone yelled.
“Harlow?”
I walked right into the path of another Bramley.
I opened my eyes to see Colt jogging over. “Jude was asking about you.”
“Yeah?”
“He wanted to know if you were all right. He, ah, wanted to talk. I think…”
I simply hummed in reply.
“Well. Are you all right?”
I kicked my boot through the dirt. I didn’t feel like talking, but there was something about Colt.
He was reserved and mostly quiet, unless he was around Wells, Jude or Kasey.
He wasn’t as conversational as his brother.
Even as he pried into my emotional state, I could tell he felt as awkward as I did.
I didn’t need to make it worse.
“There’s a lot going on,” I finally replied. “Just trying to take my mind off things.”
He huffed. “I get that.”
I hesitated before giving him a smile that felt bittersweet. “I just want to say thank you for letting me stay on your property and being so welcoming.”
“That was all Kasey and Jude.”
“Well, you didn’t try to get rid of me. You even had me at your house for Thanksgiving.”
“Get rid of you?” He sighed. “Don’t listen to that piece of shit Callahan—”
“You know?” My eyes widened.
“Know? Dawn called me into town yesterday, and I had to stop Jude from punching the old man right there on Main Street.”
Is that what happened after I left? I guess it’s not just my project Thomas was insulting. It was Jude’s as well.
“I don’t want to talk about all of that right now,” I replied.
“I get that, too.”
I looked around with a sigh, and my eyes landed on the barn behind him. I brightened up. A project and distraction too. Jude and I were supposed to work on that space together in a few days, but I could get ahead. And I was all too glad to change the subject.
“I know we planned to do this another day, but if you don’t mind I think I’m going to start setting up for the show in the barn.”
Colt hesitated for a second. “Ah, well, I haven’t had a chance to clean the place.”
“I can do that.”
“Are you sure? It’s my mess.”
“It’ll keep me busy.” And alone. “I’ll just do that for half an hour, then I’ll walk over to Kasey’s.”
He nodded thoughtfully and grunted. “If you’d like to.” Then his phone began buzzing in his pocket. He grabbed it, staring at the screen with furrowed brows. “Wells is calling. I’ve got to take this. Something about Trevor causing a scene…”
His words trailed off, and I responded, “Sure,” so he could focus.
“If you need anything just shout, or text Jude.”
I gave him a tight-lipped smile and began walking toward the old barn. “I’ll shout.”
My hand pushed against the old wood, the large door creaked open, and I stepped in.
Tucked away next to a small addition which held a few bathrooms, I found the boxes of fairy lights that Jude had ordered.
Beside those sat a plastic box that I pried open, and it was full of mismatched extension cords.
I grabbed a couple and began plugging them in around the hall to connect the strings of lights to.
This place would be perfect for the live music we’d planned, as soon as the floor wasn’t covered in hay.
I hummed as I dragged out a ladder, repeating some song I had been listening to earlier in the orchard.
Time slipped away from me, and I was sure much longer than the half an hour I had planned to be here must have passed.
I’d got caught up with much more than just cleaning.
The whole barn was beginning to look like it was full of stars as I strung lights from beam to beam—almost like the roof of The Crabapple.
I’d done well—and all on my own. See, I didn’t need anyone else around me to prop me up, just determination, a ladder, and a bit of sweat.
I wandered back into the bathrooms again and found a broom in the cupboard. I swept the wooden floors free of hay and dirt, as best as I could, and admired the space.
It was still a barn, but it now looked rustic and cozy instead of bare and dusty. On the day of the festival, we would have a rental stage set up in the centre and some tables for guests too, but even now it looked pretty magical.
I ventured over to a corner behind some old machinery—which would have to move—and cleaned around it. My knees landed on the ground as I crawled to get into a corner. I couldn’t quite reach even with the broom, as I tried to brush away some old hay.
I guess I could come back to this spot after I asked Colt to move what looked like a small forklift and an old cider press.
But if Jude were here, his long arms could have easily reached that spot.
He probably would have been able to help me move the clutter too.
We might have got this done in half the time.
If I weren’t so mad at him, maybe we would have been dancing and laughing around the old barn as we worked. Maybe I would have plugged in a speaker and we could have swapped our favourite songs.
My lower lip wobbled as I let out a sigh and sat back on my knees.
Somewhere overhead, the fairy lights flickered, thankfully drawing my thoughts away from Jude as a warm glow flashed over the barn.
Ugh. Probably some faulty bulbs. But I wouldn’t let that ruin the atmosphere I had created.
There had to be a spare set somewhere. And I wouldn’t let my relationship—or lack of—impact the festival either.
I just needed today to pull myself together.
Slowly, a prickling feeling crossed over my skin. Has it always been this hot in here? I peered over my shoulder and from the floor of the barn I saw a vivid light. Bright orange heat.
Shit.
I clambered across the floor, my knees clashing against the hard wood as I went. But I didn’t care about the bruises I was sure would appear there or the splinters threatening my skin, not when my fears were begging not to be true.
But they were.
Flames were licking up the dry wooden beams.
My eyes darted to the door, but there was already a growing wall of fire in front of it. My bag with my phone in it sat on the other side of that calamity, and the door itself was closed, shutting me in for the sake of privacy.
Trapping me inside.
I let out a shout, and then a cry, hoping Colt wasn’t too far away, but my optimism was dwindling as the only reply I heard was the roar of the flames devouring wood.
I was all alone, just what I wanted.
Standing here, like kindling.
I didn’t want to be left by myself anymore. I wanted help. I needed help.
But maybe this is how it would end, moping and trying to be too independent until I crashed and burned. I’d been wallowing over not being wanted, but now, surrounded by fire, I knew what I craved.
Home, love, community, something meaningful.
I’d do anything for that. And I may have found it.
I hadn’t been lonely in weeks. It wasn’t like the city where I was surrounded by thousands of faceless people. Here I felt seen. So much so that I had tried to hide away from the town’s gaze.
It just took being trapped inside a burning barn to realize that I had the life I wanted. Just as I was about to lose it all.