11. Charlie
As I drive over to Dad’s house, I’m still completely stunned. My first reaction upon seeing Troy on my driveway so early this morning was wondering how the devil he managed to get the hood up. But I quickly realized I hadn’t locked my car.
Of course, he was all chivalrous about it, which only made the situation worse. What do you say to someone who does something so nice and unexpected?
Clearly, you complain and yell at the guy while trying to argue over how much you owe him.
Did I even say thank you?
Oh, my gosh. I didn’t. I was too busy arguing about wanting to give him money. What an idiot. As I continue to drive across town with my engine purring like a kitten, I now feel mortified. What kind of person doesn’t even say thank you?
I pull into Dad’s driveway about fifteen minutes later. I always go to see Dad on Wednesdays. His health isn’t the best, and he needs my help with groceries and a bit of cleaning. Even though he stopped drinking five years ago, all the years before that did too much damage. He has heart disease and high blood pressure, not to mention liver damage.
I’m already determined not to talk about Troy Heaton. Dad didn’t mention him when I went to see him last week, and I sure as heck am not going to bring him up. Maybe, being so far out of town, he doesn’t know yet.
“So, I hear the ex is back,” Dad says as I walk into the living room.
Great!
“And hello to you, too,” I reply, determined not to bite. “How are you feeling today? Did you take your meds?”
“If I only took my medication on the days you were here, don’t you think you might notice?” Dad smirked. “You know, because I’d be dead.”
“Don’t say things like that,” I snap, dropping into an old armchair.
“Why?” he chuckles. “It’s not like me saying it is going to make it come true, you know.”
“Still,” I reply. “And you haven’t answered my question.”
“You haven’t answered mine.”
“You didn’t ask a question,” I counter, feeling like I have the upper hand in my reasoning.
“Fine. Then I’ll ask one. Have you seen your ex yet?”
Well, there goes my upper hand.
A part of me wants to tell him that I haven’t, but I don’t know how much he’s heard. Someone has evidently told him Troy is back, but did they also tell him that he happens to be living next door to me?
My hesitation makes Dad smirk, and then he nods and says, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Sure,” I say flippantly. “I’ve seen him around.”
“I suppose that happens when the guy lives next door, right?” He’s still smirking.
I swallow a sigh. Well, at least now I know what he knows.
“So, have you guys spoken to each other?”
I nod, feeling my frustration rising. “Yes, Dad. We’ve spoken to each other, but honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s nothing to talk about. Now, come on. We’ve got groceries to buy.” I gesture for him to get up off his chair. “Let’s go.”
Though he raises his eyebrows at me mockingly, he doesn’t continue, and I’m more relieved than I care to admit.
It’s not just the fact that I know Dad never really liked Troy. It’s far more than that. Since inviting him in for coffee, I’ve been thinking more about my new next-door neighbor. When he first arrived, I swore I wouldn’t let myself get involved, but I think it’s a little late for that.
While it’s been ten years, we’re not that different from before, except that we’ve both grown up. Troy has made great leaps and bounds in his life, and he is clearly far more mature than I ever imagined he’d be. I’ve made my own life too, but as far as personalities are concerned, we’re pretty much the same.
And I know that all the things he’s been doing are his attempts to make up for hurting me. It’s not rocket science. But I’ve forgotten that pain now. Sure, when I think about it, I’m reminded of it, and I know it existed, but I don’t carry it with me. I’ve never held a grudge. I think I was too sad to hate him.
When he moved back to Cherryville, I was determined to keep my distance, but while my head is still fully on board with that idea, my heart has jumped ship and started freestyling across unknown waters. The way he’s being overly kind and helpful is hardly helping.
When we get to the store, Dad does his usual. He leaves me to grab the groceries while he stands talking to Mr. Shore. They’re about the same age, though I think Mr. Shore has a few years on Dad. Ironically, but not surprisingly, Dad is the one who looks older.
My basket is full, and I’m just about to round the corner of an aisle and head toward the checkout counter when I stop in my tracks.
“Hello, Mr. Woods,” Troy’s voice travels to my ears.
Seriously! Of all the days Troy could’ve come into the store, it had to be now? This cannot be happening.
Believe it. It’s happening.
“I heard you were back in town,” Dad growls. His tone has done a swift one-eighty from the amicable way he was speaking to Mr. Shore not a moment before. I can just imagine the look on his face, too. His upper lip will be curled, and he’ll be baring his teeth like some rabid dog.
“How are you?” Troy says. His tone is polite, but I can hear the slightest strain.
“Fit as a fiddle,” Dad nearly spits.
“That’s good to hear.”
I can feel the tension level of the grocery store rising. It’s like a balloon being blown up, bigger and bigger. At any minute, it’s going to explode, and here I am, a grown woman, cowering behind the Choco-Pops trying to avoid the fallout.
I peek around the cereal just as Troy is bidding my father farewell. “Well, I’ve got to be going. Nice to see you again.”
“Sure,” Dad says back with a scowl.
Even then, I don’t move. Partly because I want to make certain the coast is completely clear, even though I know Troy is now wandering about the grocery store. And partly because I can already feel the heat in my face. It’s a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
My father has no right to be mad at Troy after all this time. He never liked him, and he was delighted when Troy left. But Dad got his wish all those years ago. He doesn’t own this town, and Troy has every right to return. He was raised here, for heaven’s sake.
When I was speaking to Troy the other day, I told him things were better between me and Dad. And they are. But there are still parts of Dad that haven”t changed. Including his hotheaded arrogance.
“What are you doing?” Troy whispers in my ear.
I jump so far out of my skin that I fall back into the shelf behind me, knocking several boxes of cereal onto the floor.
“Oh, my Lord!” My free hand slams to my chest and I glare up at him. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Troy is grinning down at me. I feel my face go even redder than it was before; to avoid looking at him, I drop the basket to the floor and crouch to pick up the cereal boxes I just knocked off the shelf. Troy crouches beside me and helps.
“So, why are you sneaking about Mr. Shore’s store?” he says, still whispering and grinning.
“I am not sneaking about Mr. Shore’s store,” I hiss back, lying through my teeth.
He raises his eyebrows at me. “Right,” he says in that knowing tone. “I see now. It’s totally normal to be hiding behind sugar-filled cereal.”
I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to know that I witnessed his interaction with my father—so, like an idiot, I flounder some more. “I was… I was looking at… the ingredients,” I say unconvincingly, stabbing a finger at the back of the box in my hand.
Troy looks at the box carefully. “I didn’t take you for a Choco-Pops kind of gal.” He’s mocking me, and I know it, but there’s little I can do. We both know I’m lying, and at this moment, I just want to get out of this situation.
“Are you hiding from someone?” he asks quietly as we both stand and replace the boxes.
“No, I am not hiding from someone,” I retort. “Who on Earth would I be hiding from?”
Troy shrugs. “How would I know? I’m not the one playing hide and seek.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Says the woman sneaking around with her basket of groceries.”
“Charlie? Where are you?” Dad calls out across the store. “Are you done?”
“Oh, look. Just like old times. Daddy’s still relying on his little girl,” Troy says. He’s trying to be lighthearted, but I can see the strain in his face.
“I’ve got to go,” I say.
“Catch you later,” he replies. He lifts one of the cereal boxes and shakes it at me. “Have you forgotten something?”
He’s chuckling now, and I want to throw whatever I have in my basket at his head. Instead, I scowl at him and then hurry around the corner.
“There you are,” Dad says as I reach the counter. “I thought you’d gone to Walmart in the next town over.” He glances over my shoulder as though he expects to see someone else, and then he narrows his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Dad. Let’s buy these groceries and get you home for lunch.”
* * *
Milly calls me after work. She wants to come over, but honestly, I’m too tired after dealing with Dad, and I tell her so.
“That’s okay,” Milly says with her usual understanding. She knows all about Dad and how he can be. “But we need to meet up soon. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Milly. I’ve just been so busy.”
There is a moment where neither of us speaks, and my Spidey senses start to tingle. It’s rare that Milly doesn’t have something to say.
“What is it?” I ask, needing to know what’s going on.
“Oh, nothing really. I was just wondering how things are with you and Troy,” she says.
“Fine, Milly. Things are just fine,” I reply carefully.
“Oh, come on, Charlie. Don’t give me that. Two weeks ago, you nearly took my head off for not telling you that he was back. The other day, when I showed up, you looked utterly disappointed that he was leaving. Something is going on.”
I’ve never kept secrets from Milly, and yet, there is a part of me that is wary of telling her what I’m feeling. I quickly shake that feeling off. She’s my best friend. I should just tell her.
“All right,” I sigh. “You want the truth?”
“All of it,” Milly says excitedly.
“The truth is, I’m struggling to keep him out of my head.”
“I knew it,” she blurts.
“It’s not like that,” I defend.
“It’s exactly like that, and you know it,” Milly counters. “We both know you never got over him, Charlie.”
I nod, even though she can’t see it. It’s the truth, and there’s no point in denying it. “Yes, well. I didn’t think I would ever see him again.”
“And now?”
“Now, I’m struggling to deal with my emotions.”
My life was easier before Troy turned up. Now, everything is upside-down and back to front, and I don’t know which direction I’m going in.