Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Autumn
Another week passes and Ezra makes no sign of leaving. None. Zero. Zip.
He never mentions it and the part of my body—so all of it—that’s so very tired of being alone has decided to avoid the topic for now. Ezra is back, and while that comes with a lot of fear and anxiety for me, it’s too sweet to fight. I want him back.
Every night he tells me he loves me and he doesn’t even grumble that I haven’t returned the sentiment. I feel it. But my heart won’t let me say it. Not yet.
It will let Ezra eat at my house every night, work by my side, and kiss me to bits each and every day. That, my heart is perfectly fine with.
I stand in Mom’s kitchen and loop my arm through Ezra’s. It’s more instinct than anything. The past week has almost felt like before he left.
“Mother,” I groan, but with Ezra next to me, it’s playful. “He’s touching up, not painting the whole house.”
“But Ezra said—”
“I told her to pick any color she wanted.” Ezra gives my arm a small squeeze, quieting my complaints. “April, I’d love for you to walk three doors down with me. Mrs. Hamilton has a green door against her peach house. Maybe your door could use a new color too.”
Mom laughs at the thought. But I’m waiting. Ezra suggested she leave the house and she didn’t shut him down in two seconds flat. She didn’t leave the room. She didn’t start to cry. She’s laughing.
Soon, she shakes her head. “No, I’ll take your word for it.” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “You know, I do like the sound of that though. What about blue for the house and yellow for the door?”
“I like it,” Ezra says. “Autumn?” His low tone combined with my name erupts tingles over my entire body.
“What about everything we need to do on the farm?” I say, peering up into his hazel eyes. They know too much. I’ve pretty much given myself over to him. I’ve lost almost all control where Ezra is concerned. “It’s too much to ask of you.”
I know Don and Dessie paid him as our architect. But they are the first paychecks he’s seen in a while. He can’t spend this newfound financial security on my mother. And she doesn’t have any money for paint. Neither do I.
“You don’t have to stay and help,” he tells me, leaning down and kissing my cheek, making heat spread from that tiny corner of my face over my entire body. “You have a lot more to take care of than I do. I’m merely a hired hand.”
But Mom blinks, her eyes on me. Her smile has faltered. She was excited about the paint. When was the last time she got excited about anything, really?
“I suppose that’s true.” I bump him with my hip, trying to bring back an air of playfulness. I can’t be the one to dim her light. I can’t. Not even to save Ezra from financial ruin. “I am sort of your boss. I suppose I could give you a few days off.”
Mom’s strait-laced mouth turns up a little with my jovial tone.
“So, blue?” I say to her, trying my best to not think about how much money this is going to cost Ezra.
“I think blue would be nice, don’t you? It was always your father’s favorite.”
It was. Of course she’d think of that. “I think blue is perfect.” I lick my lips, my heart pounding. “I really should get back to the farm though. I’ll come by later to pick up Ezra and see the color you chose. Okay?”
Mom smiles and nods.
“Hey,” Ezra says, snagging me by the fingers. “Run me to the hardware store? Your mom’s car needs new plates.”
I swallow. We haven’t updated her plates in years. Why would we? She doesn’t drive anywhere. It would be a waste of much-needed money.
Ezra’s arms wrap around my back and I let him pull me in; somehow his closeness calms my nerves. My arms thread up and around his neck and he hugs me tight. He’s making up for lost time—at least, that’s what he’s told me every day this week.
“Okay,” I say, my mouth at his ear, breathing in the heavenly cedarwood that makes up Ezra.
He lifts his head from its buried spot in my neck. “I’ll be back, April, with lots of samples.”
Mom— ugh . I forgot about our audience. I have been living in this lovely bubble where it’s just me and Ezra and no one else—no hurting mother, no lost father, no Mav. It’s a beautiful bubble. Sometimes I forget about everything outside it.
I clear my throat and run a hand down the front of my wrinkled shirt. I throw my hand up in a wave to Ezra, attempting to act as if that was a perfectly normal friend-hug. The kind of hug I’d give to Meg.
I am failing. It’s so not the kind of hug I’d give to anyone other than Ezra.
I swallow and peer over to see my mother’s eyes on me.
“Autumn, maybe you could stay while Ezra borrows your truck.”
Well, shoot. Bubble burst.
Might as well get this over with.
“Sure.” I huff out a breath, rocking on my heels, and pass my keys over to Ezra.
“I’ll be back with samples,” Ezra says. His eyes are on my mother but switch to me for the briefest of seconds. He winks, and then he’s out the door, off to our one little hardware shop for limited colors and overpriced paint.
I turn toward my mother once Ezra has shut the door. I cross my arms defensively over my chest. “We’re kind of together. Okay?” I say, hoping that will be the end of it.
“That isn’t what I was going to ask. That, sweetheart, is obvious. Except, there’s no kind of about it.”
I shuffle from one foot to the next. “Oh.” I shove both my hands into the pockets of my plaid flannel jacket. “Then what?”
“Why did you ever let him go?” Her brows knit and her eyes rove over my face, as if it will spill my secrets. “Clearly, you feel just as strong as ever about him. I’ve never asked before, Autumn. But I am now. What happened?” She reaches for my hand, giving me a sad, small smile.
It’s been ten years. So, maybe it’s time to tell.
I swallow and wrap my fingers around hers. “I had to. He couldn’t stay here.”
She shakes her head. Mom knows all about Mav Bennett and the way he mistreated Ezra. She knows that boy needed out. “But—”
“But I didn’t go with him.” This is the part that’s confusing to her—and to the rest of the world.
“You didn’t,” she says, and while I don’t explain, I see it in her eyes the minute she comprehends.
She swallows and plops into one of the kitchen chairs behind her. A fragile breath falls from her chest. I sit beside her. She feels breakable, her frame too small for the lack of exercise she gets. She should be overweight and sluggish, with TV being her most active hobby of the day. It makes me wonder if I’m feeding her enough. “How did you know? We didn’t tell you for months after. How?” Trembling fingers press to her lips.
For the first time in my life, I don’t lie to her about graduation night. “I went out after the family party. I snuck back in, later than my curfew, and I heard you and Dad talking about his illness.”
Her shaky fingers form a fist. “You knew, but you never said anything.”
“I didn’t know what to say. I only knew what I had to do.”
“You felt you couldn’t go—”
“I couldn’t,” I say, the words stronger on my lips than intended.
“But you let him go,” she says, her dim eyes wide and glued to mine.
“I did. I couldn’t let Mav do any more damage than he’d already done. And Ezra would have stayed for me.”
She nods, understanding, and tears fill her eyes. Her head lifts. “But now he’s back and—”
“And I don’t know for how long. He says he’ll stay. But I don’t know if that’s right for him.” All those fears I so happily put to bed awake with her assumptions.
“Dearest, I understand why you made him go before. I do. And I commend your strength. You chose the most unselfish path and that’s heroic of you.”
“It’s not heroic. It’s family. I did what I needed to—for you and Dad and Summer.”
Her head dips, forcing eye contact. “Yes, but he’s a man now, Autumn. You don’t get to trick him into a decision he may not want to make.”
“I didn’t trick him before. I was trying to make sure he got out of Love. That he got away from Mav. ”
“I understand that. And I know your intentions were good. For us and him. But you have to be honest, for both your sakes.” She covers my hand with hers.
But the mini-lecture doesn’t soothe or comfort me. In fact, it bugs me—a lot. I’ve been living in an Ezra-filled, worry-free bubble all week long and she’s brought me out of it.
“ Honesty . That’s good advice, Mom. Maybe you need to be honest with yourself too. You haven’t left this house in five years. Have you been honest about that? How will you ever get over Daddy when you can’t even get out of the house?”
"I don't plan to get over your father," she says as if this should be obvious.
“Yeah, well, I don’t plan to let Ezra live in the same town as his father.” I stand up, my nerves spiraling. “I’m going to take your car out to the ranch. Tell Ezra he can bring my truck back out.”
“What about the expired plates?” She mimics me, standing up, her brow knit in worry.
“If the sheriff wants to pull me over, he can.”
“Autumn!” She takes one step forward, but she won’t cross the front door threshold, and I’m already out the door.