Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Bailey
T he town square is bustling with people out and about, strolling down the Main Street Plaza, or shopping and getting ready for the festivities of the next few months. It’s October, the beautiful autumn leaves changing colors and falling along the cobblestone paths in perfect patterns. Most storefronts began decorating for the harvest festival happening in the next month, while a few others have gone for the darker, more occult aesthetic of Halloween.
Billie and I ordered some decorations online last week and she’ll be taking care of decorating HoneyBees while Penny and I work on the bar. Autumn in Crossroads is one of my favorite times of the year. The dark and mysterious, the joy of dressing up as something you’ll never be. The girls and I have kept a theme of popular trios the last six years, dressing up as anything from The Plastics, to The Mystery Machine Gang, The Sanderson Sisters, and this year, well, we can’t quite make up our minds.
Though it’s the hot apple cider, pumpkin pie and apple cobbler, and leaves falling in various shades of red, orange and yellow along the cobblestone roads that make me feel all warm inside.
After this morning's encounter with Nash, I opted out of going into HoneyBees, since I was going to be leaving early anyway, and came downtown to meet Monroe and Billie for a quick bite to eat.
After the night and morning I had, I needed nothing more than to decompress with my best friends.
“What do you mean he’s staying with you?” Monroe shouts through a mouthful of fries as we sit for lunch at Dolly’s, a cute little restaurant that serves the best salads, sandwiches and wraps in all of Crossroads.
It’s Billie who not so subtly let her know Nash’s going to be staying with me while he’s in town. Though, my best friend quickly comes to my defense before I can muster an acceptable response or explanation once she realizes Monroe is not at all okay with the idea.
“It wasn’t her idea. It was Jase’s.” Like that is any better.
Monroe’s eyes widen as she takes a sip of her diet coke to swallow down her food. “Jameson suggested my brother stay with you? In your apartment? After everything that’s happened with you two?”
When she puts it that way, it sounds like a complete lie or twisted ending to a fucked up story, but I was just as surprised as she is. “Jase doesn’t know.”
“Bullshit, B,” Billie interjects, “You said so yourself. You’ve always suspected Jase knew more about what happened with you and Nash than he let on.” She turns her attention to Monroe. “I was telling Bailey, Jase's reaction to Nash being back seemed way off for someone whose best friend left town and didn't talk to them for ten years. It felt more like guilt. He wasn’t necessarily happy Nash is back, but he wasn’t as angry as one would assume.”
Monroe plays with the Caesar salad she ordered to go along with the large side of fries, suddenly seemingly anxious. This can’t be an easy topic of conversation for her. “What on earth would Jameson feel guilty about?”
“Well,” Billie continues, looking around the outdoor patio we’re seated at, making sure no one is eavesdropping on our conversation. “If Jase had anything to do with why Nash skipped town, as if he knew what happened between Bailey and him, of course he’d feel guilty he was the reason Nash stayed away all these years and didn’t even come back to visit his own family.”
Monroe grows defensive, her bright blue eyes suddenly filling to the brim with tears. “Jase isn’t responsible for Nash ignoring us. He did that himself.”
But before I can cut the conversation and talk about something else to avoid further hurting my best friend, we’re interrupted when someone walks up to our table from the sidewalk.
“What are you girls gossiping about?” my father asks as he walks over to the fence right outside our table.
“Mayor King,” Billie shouts out in surprise, trying to act nonchalant and hide the fact we’re talking about Nash.
My father nods, smiling at her as he leans over the fence and places a kiss on my check. “Baileycakes,” he says, calling me by the nicknames he’s used for me since I was a little girl.
“Daddy, it’s nice to see you.” I don’t turn to look at him, afraid he’s going to see right through me and realize we’re suddenly incredibly nervous and afraid he’s overheard something. The one thing I made Jase promise me was that no one outside of the five of us—Jase, Nash, Billie, Monroe and me—would find out Nash was living with me. Especially not my parents.
“It’s good to see you too, sweetheart. So, what’s on the agenda today? I heard there was a little mishap at HoneyBees this morning and Elaine wasn’t able to bring pastries to today’s parish meeting. She had to go down to Polly’s and grab some pies so Reverend Mitchell wouldn’t miss his morning sugar rush.”
Billie chokes on her drink. A margarita, she ordered to go along with her salad and fries. “The ovens were acting up, and we had to open an hour later than usual. Tell Elaine to stop by next Saturday and get a whole dozen of muffins for free, for the mishap.”
I’m grateful for Billie’s response and not having to explain to my father why I overslept and didn’t make it in time to open the shop.
“Nonsense,” my father brushes off Billie’s offer. “I told you girls, if you keep giving away everything for free, you won’t make any money. That’s not the way to run a business.” His gaze shifts to Monroe, like he’s just noticed she’s here as well. “Monroe, I hear one of your brothers is in town, helping Monty out on the ranch?”
It’s not so much a question if he already knows the answer.
“So I’ve heard,” she answers, not giving him much information, which is what he’s looking for. Monroe’s never been a fan of my father’s not only given the history between him and her father Franklin, but because she’s always felt judged by him and how reluctant he was to her being my friend. Yet she seems to really care what my mother thinks of her.
My father continues to pry, though his motives are unreadable. “I assume Nash is staying out there with your father as well?” He asks, cleverly disguising his interest in Nash’s whereabouts.
“It seems so,” she says, not telling my dad the truth about Nash staying with me or the fact her father isn’t even in Crossroads.
I remember Nash’s brief conversation about his dad staying in a recovery center down in Rivers Bend, and wonder if Moe even knows about it since she hasn’t mentioned it to us. Unlike Nash, who seems so nonchalant about his father's fate, I know Monroe wouldn’t be able to move on so quickly. Regardless of how much she hates Franklin Bishop.
“Well, if they need anything, you let them know to come and ask me. Franklin and I might not have the best relationship, but my heart lies in this town and everyone and everything in it. Especially since I hear he isn’t doing too well nowadays.”
Of course, the entire town heard about the heart attack last week, something Monroe tries her best to not talk about because it brings up some really unwanted emotions. She’s a girl who’s dealt with so much grief it really pains me to see how her bad luck just continues to cause her trouble.
Not that a baby is anything but a blessing, but being a single mother, not to mention how badly her brothers will probably react to the news of their baby sister not being a virginal little angel, it’s too much to have to pull through on your own. But Billie and I won’t be letting her go through any of it alone.
“Of course, Mayor King. I’ll pass on the message. I’m sure Monty would appreciate it.” Yeah, Monty might, but Nash definitely won’t want anything to do with my father.
My dad may not have had much say in Jase’s friendship with Nash, since my brother has always had a mind of his own and went against everything my father wanted of him, but he spent any chance he could bad-mouthing the Bishop name and reminding us we should never trust them. We used to continuously ask what happened between the two families that caused such a rivalry between them, but we were always given the same response.
A good family is one who looks out not only for itself but for its neighbors. The Bishops do neither of those things.
We all knew it was much more complicated than that, but it came to a point where we stopped asking why and took his word for it. Though after Nash and Jase’s friendship ended, and mine began with Monroe, I learned to keep our friendship our own, and not subject her to the judgment Nash used to undergo any time spent at my parent’s house.
“And you, little lady,” he says, directing his attention back to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Come to the house more often. Your mama misses you, and tell that sister of yours too. She may live in my house, but the girl is never home.”
“Yes, daddy.” I laugh as he walks away, immediately ambushed by the woman organizing the Harvest Festival.
“You know,” Billie says, looking over at me. “The longer I know your father, the more he scares me.”
“Back to my idiot brother. Bailey, are you sure you’re okay with this? Just a few days ago we were sitting on your couch bawling our eyes out and devouring gallons of ice cream like it was our job. Now he’s going to be living with you?” Monroe seems genuinely concerned, and rightfully so. Because no, I’m not okay with this, but I also can’t get myself to absolutely hate it.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Not by choice, Monroe. You know I can’t see someone in need and do nothing about it. No matter how much of an asshole they are.” It’s always been my downfall. The need to not only make people happy, but the inability to say no.
Monroe’s nose scrunches as she thinks, not content with the answer I’ve given her. I can tell she feels like this is her fault for refusing to let him stay back at the house with her and Monty.
“Then we can switch. I’ll come stay with you and Nash can stay at the house with Monty. I told Monty I wouldn’t leave, or live with him, but this was before I realized they’d make him move in with you.”
“It makes no sense, Moe, for you to live with me yet go to work back at your house. It’ll be fine. We’ll barely even see each other.”
That was a lie, but I can’t outright tell Monroe her brother was naked in my room this morning, wearing only a small towel after getting out of my shower. A towel which did absolutely nothing to cover the impressive figure he’s developed in the last decade. A figure that left me ridiculously aroused even more so when I stepped into the shower that still smelled too much like him.
My poor friend has had a rough couple of days. Between finding out about her pregnancy, to feeling sick all the time, to now crying over her brother being back. The bags under her eyes have seen better days, but here she is, still worrying about me after all that troubles her.
Monroe sighs, worry etched on the corners of her eyes. “I just hate the idea of you having to deal with him in your home after what he did to you.”
Her feelings are justified. Monroe saw me at my worst. When we both grieved losing Nash in different ways. She and Billie had to physically pull me out of bed on multiple occasions. They saw me break down and cry, and had to save me from one too many toxic relationships with other men because none of them were him and I was trying so hard to fill the void he left.
How would I ever trust someone again when the man I loved, and who I foolishly thought loved me back, left me once he got what he wanted? The damage he did to my future relationships and fear of commitment and trust these past few years as I tried my best to move on was irreparable.
But maybe this was a sign. The universe was telling me to move forward by placing my past right in front of me. A wise woman once said, looking backwards is the only way to move forward. Maybe that’s what I’m supposed to do.
“It’s been ten years,” I say, the realization of what I need to do hitting me all at once. “Maybe I ought to put it past me. What good does hating a man who never promised me anything do? I’ve only been hurting myself when, by the looks of it, Nash hasn’t been at all phased by not being near me.”
“It does a hell of a lot of good for the soul. I thrive off the people I hate,” Billie jokes, as always covering her pain with sarcasm and wit.
Monroe scoffs at our not so wise friend. “Yeah, like how much your soul gets fed by your constant bickering with every man in Crossroads.”
Billie calls the server over to order another margarita. “A woman’s gotta keep her options open. Wouldn’t be fair if only one man received all my wrath.”
Monroe and I can’t help but laugh at our friend's reasoning. Billie’s always been that breath of fresh air we’ve both needed, and I don’t know how either of us would have gotten along without her. Though I worry about her. She seems to always be in control, but I know that’s all just an act she puts on in front of us who love her most. Something pains her. She longs for something. I just don’t know what it is.
“Cheers,” Monroe says, holding up her freshly refilled diet coke. “To making Nash Bishop wish he never came back to Crossroads.” Billie and I both look at each other in surprise before turning back to Monroe with our drinks raised.
I choke out a laugh at my bestie’s brazenness regarding her own brother. “And I thought I was petty to think I’d fuck around with the guy because he referred to me as a mistake.”
“What?” Billie and Monroe shout in unison, nearly spitting out their drinks.
I curse myself for even bringing it up, but no point in lying. “Last night, when I approached him and Jase to tell them I agreed to let Nash stay with me, as I walked away…” I swallow the lump forming in my throat as I recall what I heard Nash tell my brother and how it felt to verbally hear what I already knew he felt. “I guess Jase told Nash to stay away from me. You know, since we’re going to be living together…” I pause, the hurt I felt rushing back to me, forcing me to fist my hands to hold it together. “Nash told Jase what happened between us ten years ago was a mistake he’s not planning on ever making again.”
“He called you a mistake?” Monroe asks in a hushed whisper, her eyes immediately welling up with tears. Man, how quickly do pregnancy hormones work? One second she toasts revenge and her brother’s misfortune, the next she’s ready to cry for my sorrows.
“Wait, so Jase does know?” It’s Billie’s response that warrants more investigation.
I shake off the feelings his words incite within me and focus on the one fact I also spent all night thinking about. This whole time, Jase knew about what happened between Nash and me. “Yeah, only I don't know how much.”
Monroe continues, realization hitting her. “Or if it really has anything to do with why Nash left so suddenly?”
Billie nods, the little wheels in her head turning as she contemplates what this all means. “It’s all making sense now.”
If only things were simple. If only I could continue hating Nash the way I have for so many years, without the thought of him leaving only because he was forced to. Because there's no way Jase would have easily moved on if Nash had stayed. Not if he saw it as some betrayal against him instead of something both Nash and I wanted.
I push my food to the side, no longer having any sort of appetite. “So much for letting bygones be bygones.”
Monroe reaches out for my hand, holding it tightly in hers. “We will, for now. But not before we make him pay for disrespecting you and calling you a mistake.”
This isn’t initially what I would have thought to do, instead cowering away at the thought of him not wanting anything to with? me even now that he’s back, but if Nash and Jase felt like they could easily talk and make decisions about me without considering my feelings, then why not fuck with them.
Billie claps her hands in excitement. “Ooo, I smell a scheme brewing.”
Nash is going to regret the day he came back to Crossroads, and Jase is going to rue the day he made him leave.