27. Beth
Beth
The next few days went by in a blur.
That evening, I went back home and crumpled into bed, not even taking off my makeup or brushing my teeth.
The next day, I helped Mary wrap everything up at the shop.
I turned in my final project for class, and I packed up the car.
It felt like every last piece of my life was piled in my Jeep, and it felt wrong to leave Port St. Clair.
It was like trying to break a magnetic pull the town seemed to have on me.
I leaned against the hood of the car, looking back to the little house I’d come to call home over the last few months.
“Come here,” Megan said, pulling me in for a tight hug that I felt through my bones. “I’m so sorry it had to end like this. Instead of celebrating a great festival season, you’re leaving in tears.”
“I’m not in tears,” I said, pulling back.
“You know what I mean.” She shrugged.
And I did.
Over the last few days, I’d gone through a series of emotions—crying on the couch in my pajamas, numb while going through the motions of class, and yelling my disdain about Johnny to Megan from across the kitchen. It was not a relaxing last few days.
Megan had wanted to take me out for a final beach day, but I told her I wasn’t up for it.
“You know you’re welcome any time, right? You could just show up and use your key. I don’t care. I’m going to miss you so much.” She grabbed me by the shoulders.
“I’ll miss you too.” I wiped a stray tear that fell down my cheek. I’d shed more tears in the last couple days than I had over the last decade.
“Drive safe, lady. Love you.” She rubbed my arm and kissed my cheek.
I sniffed and leaned in for another hug, detecting the vanilla that always surrounded her.
Jumping in the Jeep, I rolled down the window and waved a final goodbye, watching her silhouette get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror as I pulled away.
The radio played This Love at what felt like the worst possible time, and as a glutton for punishment, I turned it up and let the hot tears cloud my eyes before feeling them roll down my cheeks.
After hopping on I-69, I knew it’d be an easy drive, and I rested my head against the seat behind me, set the cruise control, and watched the surroundings pass by as I drove.
In the middle of the week, there were almost no cars on the road. The route was almost all farm country as I watched field after field pass by on either side of the expressway, and I felt more alone than I had since I’d arrived in Port St. Clair.
I loved Johnny. I knew I did.
I hadn’t told him, but it was too late now.
I wasn’t going to push him. I didn’t want to be with someone that didn’t want to fight for me—fight for what he wanted. I knew he wanted this. He was just too stubborn and too stuck in the past to realize it. I didn’t have time for that.
The fact that I had thought doing casual was a good idea made me laugh now. Okay, maybe not laugh, but ugly cry. There was no way I could do casual. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking.
I was angry at myself for putting myself out there, and I was frustrated with Michael for showing up when he did to cause Johnny to doubt himself and everything around him.
But part of me was glad his insecurities had come out now instead of later.
It would have been setting myself up for heartache down the road.
As much as I hated it, the breakup was for the best. It had to be.
That’s what I kept telling myself.
I shook my head to clear the tears out of my vision. I was just turning the music off to switch to a podcast when all the cars ahead of me lit up like Christmas lights.
I hit the brake, and the tires squealed as I skidded closer and closer to the car in front of me.
Someone honked. I couldn’t brake in time, so I swerved onto the shoulder.
It all happened at warp speed around me, my head floating.
As soon as I stopped, my head hit the headrest, and I looked around me.
That could have been much worse. Looking up, I realized I was half on the shoulder, half on the grass next to the road with my heart in my throat.
In the slow-moving traffic, a car honked beside me, the driver rolling down his window.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yup, all good,” I said, even though I knew it wasn’t true. I was a mess. I just didn’t know what to do, and the chaos around me echoed it.
The man pulled away, and I wished I could leave everything behind and fast-forward my life to when I was happy.
I took a deep breath of relief and laid my head on the steering wheel and let the tears fall.
I heaved, sucking in breath as I went, letting the snot run down my nose and tears drip onto my shirt and pants. Everything felt heavy. I was a mess, and I didn’t care anymore.
The next day, I dragged myself out of bed. I was still numb but functioning.
My mom had invited me over for dinner, and if you would have asked me if I wanted to go yesterday, I would have said hell no. Today? It would be a welcome distraction.
I had just decided to get ready to leave when my phone dinged.
Mary: Hope you had a safe trip home.
I didn’t want to start a long thread with her, but my cordial nature made me respond.
Me: Thanks
I was hoping that would be the end, but she kept going.
Mary: I heard about you and Johnny. I’m so sorry, Beth. I thought that you guys had something.
Ugh. I didn’t need or want this.
Me: Yeah, definitely a shitty way to end things
Mary: Just because things are over with Johnny, doesn’t mean it’s the end of your time in Port St. Clair. Once you’ve dusted yourself off, remember that you’re always welcome here
Me: Thanks
In between wallowing about Johnny, I had thought about the shops—a lot. I wanted to figure out a way to make it work, do something for me. But each time I tried to come up with a plan, I kept going back to my mom.
Even though my dad wouldn’t love me leaving, it was my mom I was most concerned about.
As much as we disagreed on things and had differing opinions, she had always been my person.
We had lifted each other up and pushed through everything with my dad’s health, and I couldn’t imagine moving away from her.
The thought of telling her I wanted to leave Randall left an empty pit in my stomach.
Enough was enough though. I stood up, got myself looking presentable in my jeans and t-shirt and jumped back in the Jeep to make the five-minute drive over to my parent’s house.
“Knock-knock,” I said, pushing the screen door open.
They lived in an old farmhouse, and even though air conditioning was added when I was young, they almost never used it. Instead, they kept the windows open, and the breeze from the fields blew in.
I stepped in, looking for my parents. Everything was exactly as it had been last time I was here.
My mother kept a tidy house, but it was dated.
The pale-peach curtains hung around the front windows, and my dad’s corduroy recliner sat in the corner.
The kitchen was a mix of browns, peaches, and off-whites.
The drapes fluttered as the wind blew through the house.
“Hello?”
“Out back!” I heard my mom yell.
I peered out and saw her hanging up laundry on the line and decided to make the walk out to join her.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, leaning in to wrap my arms around her. She kissed my cheek.
“Just hanging the last sheet, and we’ll head inside,” she said.
After she emptied her basket, I followed her back inside and sat at the wooden kitchen table.
I leaned back and crossed my legs, watching her get down two plates.
The smell of corn on the cob and baked chicken hung heavy in the air.
My mom was a great cook, and whenever I didn’t need to cook was a great day for me, even better when it was my mom’s food.
“Smells delicious,” I said, looking around. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s out with the guys at Lou’s.”
“Oh.” I was surprised to hear that. She hadn’t told me he’d be here, but I just assumed he would. He didn’t go out too much with his buddies anymore, but I was happy he was getting around okay all the same.
We sat and ate, and I spent the next while filling her in on everything over the past couple weeks before stopping and letting her know Michael had crashed the auction.
“I know he was there.” She ran her hand down her face, and she gave me a look. “He told me when he got back. I’m sorry he ruined your big night, honey.”
“He didn’t ruin it.” I shook my head, even though part of me agreed that he had ruined it. It was for the best though. I’d rather know how Johnny felt now versus banking on something that wasn’t meant to be. “Timing was terrible though.”
“I didn’t think he’d actually drive down there.” She walked over to the table and sat next to me.
“What did he say when he mentioned it?” I asked.
“That he wanted to rekindle an old flame.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “In more or less words.”
I rolled my eyes. “I told him that wasn’t going to happen.”
She chuckled. “He might have mentioned that.”
“What else did he mention?”
“That you were seeing someone else.” She raised her eyebrows. “And that a guy on stage was glaring daggers at him. Why didn’t you tell us? I’m assuming it was that Johnny? From the restaurant?”
I groaned. “It wasn’t anything serious. It didn’t seem worth mentioning.”
“Why on earth would you think that?”
I shook my head. “It didn’t seem worth mentioning that I was seeing someone else, even just for the summer. I know you’ve always liked Michael.”
“Beth.” She tilted her head at me.
I looked at her sheepishly.
“I loved Michael. I still do. He’s a huge part of this operation, but I love you more.” She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. “You’re my daughter.”
I sniffed, and my eyes watered.
“Above anything else, all I want is for you to be happy. It’s why I encouraged you to go to Port St. Clair when the opportunity came up,” she said.
“I see how hard you’ve pushed yourself. I’ve seen what you’ve given up for this family.
I just wish you could see it and acknowledge what you really want. ” She paused. “And take it.”
I gave her a side-eye, not knowing what she was getting at.
“It wasn’t until we were in Port St. Clair that I got it though.”
“Got what?”
“That I was holding you back.”
“You didn’t hold me back, Mom.” I took her hand in mine. “This is always where I wanted to be. Here. With you and Dad. Building this.” I waved my hand toward the window.
“Maybe at some point in your life it was. But it’s not anymore. I see that. And as much as your dad would hate to admit it, he sees it too.”
My throat thickened, and I swallowed, listening to news I realized I needed to hear but didn’t know I’d ever hear the words.
“Your dad and I spoke with Michael when we got back from your place in Port St. Clair a few weeks ago. We mentioned we were looking to retire sometime in the next few years.” She paused.
“I’m sure that’s one of the things he wanted to talk with you about when he came to see you.
Of course, you’d be the one with first right of refusal to run Weber Farms, but after seeing you down there?
I didn’t know if you’d want it or not. I wanted to get our ducks in a row for when you got back. ”
My mind ping-ponged in all the directions at once. I was relieved they were finally looking at retiring. I had picked up on hints, but I wasn’t sure I was reading them correctly. I was anxious to figure out what this could mean. And I was sad at potentially leaving everything in the past behind.
“Mom.” I took a deep breath, pushing a tear away with my fingertips. “I love you guys. I love this business.”
“I know you do, but now, it’s time to take a look around and figure out if this is the life you really want to live.”
I gulped and looked out the window at the giant barn behind the house, the sheets blowing in the wind, and the acres of quiet that laid around us. Could I truly leave Randall? It was all I’d ever known—until this summer. It was what we did, who we were. Who I was.
A knot tightened in my stomach as my mom pulled me in for a hug. Her warm softness enveloped me, and her clean soap scent stood out as I nestled in her neck.
I pulled back.
“Dad is on board with retiring, huh?”
“He’ll get there.” She winked.
“Well, okay. Let’s figure this out then.”