Spring Fling

Chapter 4

Mylie sat in the parking lot of Papa Pig’s, the BBQ restaurant where she was supposed to meet... she checked her phone...

Seth for dinner. They’d been chatting for a couple of days and there’d been a phone call the night before to ask her out on a

date. Mylie wasn’t afraid to go in and meet him. She’d checked him out the same way she did everyone else—on social media.

They had a few mutual friends, and they’d all said he was a good guy. Recently divorced with a two-year-old. He seemed like

a completely normal, nice man.

Still, she didn’t want to go inside. She didn’t want to sit down at a sticky table and make small talk until one of them decided

it was time to leave with or without the other. Most of the time this awkward dance was fun; it was an escape. But tonight,

she couldn’t keep from thinking about her grandmother’s words, He’s coming back .

So what? Mylie told herself. So what if he’s coming back? She hadn’t concerned herself with Ben Lawrence for a long time. They’d been friends, best friends, since the sixth grade

when Ben moved into town with his mother after his father died. Ben’s grandfather, the town’s only doctor at the time, was

a sweet man who adored Granny. Ben was a lot like his grandfather, only quieter, and he and Mylie had hit it off almost immediately.

But then he’d left, and that had been that. There were a few phone calls and emails from college, but they’d lost touch. Mylie had responsibilities at home, working to get her business off the ground and helping Granny care for Cassie, and Ben... well, he’d started a new life. There just wasn’t room for their childhood friendship, even if she’d always thought that eventually it would be something more.

Beside her, Mylie watched a couple get out of their minivan and haul two small children out, the oldest child chattering a

mile a minute while her patient father listened. Mylie smiled. She remembered those days with Cassie, although the only other

person there to listen to her had been Granny. People always assumed Cassie belonged to Mylie and that she was some unwed,

teen mom. It didn’t bother her for the most part, but sometimes when she watched scenes like this, she wondered if she’d ever

have a family that didn’t make people stare at her.

She often had to remind herself that she was, in fact, an accomplished, successful woman. It should be enough that most aspects

of her life were great. Mylie didn’t need a relationship, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want one.

She got out of her truck and went inside, glancing around the crowded dining area for anyone who looked remotely familiar.

After a few seconds, a sandy-haired man in a Kansas City Chiefs T-shirt waved at her, smiling.

Seth is pretty cute , Mylie thought as she made her way toward him.

“Hi,” he said, extending his hand to greet her. “I’m Seth, and you must be Mylie.”

Mylie smiled. “Yes. Hi.”

“I’m glad you suggested this place,” Seth said as they sat. “I’ve only lived here a few months, and I’ve been wanting to try

it.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Mylie replied. “And what brought you here again? I’m sorry, I forgot.”

Seth gave her an easy grin. “Landscaping. My brother has a business here, and I moved a few months ago to help him out.”

The waitress appeared with menus, and asked them for their drink orders.

“You want a beer or something?” Seth asked.

Mylie shook her head. “I better not. I have to drive all the way back to Clay Creek tonight,” she said. “I’ll just take a

sweet tea.”

She could see the disappointment in Seth’s eyes when she revealed she’d be going home tonight. Mylie wished she could tell

him that it didn’t have anything to do with him. Ordinarily, she would have waited until later in the date to make that decision.

But tonight, she’d made the decision before she even went inside the restaurant. She had too much on her mind to smile and

flirt her way into someone else’s bed when all she wanted to do was throw herself down face-first onto her own bed and scream

into a pillow.

“So, have you ever been married?” Seth was asking her.

“What?” Mylie asked. “Oh, no, I’ve never been married.”

“Not even close?” Seth asked.

“No,” Mylie replied. She was used to these kinds of questions. A woman didn’t get to be twenty-eight in the rural Arkansas

Ozarks without being asked a few times why she wasn’t married, why she had never been married, and if she ever wanted to get

married.

“And no kids?”

“Nope.”

“Do you like kids?” Seth asked. “You know I’ve got a two-year-old. Her name’s Serenity. Want to see a picture?”

“I do like kids,” Mylie said. She leaned forward in her chair to look at Seth’s phone, where a chubby-cheeked toddler smiled,

holding a puppy. “She’s adorable.”

“She lives in Little Rock with my ex-wife,” Seth continued. “But I get her every other weekend.”

“I’m sure you miss her,” Mylie said, trying to be sympathetic.

“I’ve got her next weekend,” Seth said.

Mylie understood the unspoken words—he’d been hoping that this weekend, he’d get something else. She was about to change the subject when her phone dinged from inside her purse. Then it

dinged again. And again. And again.

“I’m sorry,” Mylie said. “I better check that.”

She pulled her phone out and saw several messages from Cassie.

Had a fight with Allie.

Coming home.

I’m so mad.

I hate her.

That was all the invitation Mylie needed to make her excuses.

“I’m so sorry, Seth,” she said. “I’ve got an emergency back at home.”

Seth scrunched his eyebrows together as if he didn’t believe her, but said, “Is everything okay?”

“I think so,” Mylie said. “But I have to go. I’m just so sorry.”

She went to put money down on the table, but Seth waved her off. “I’ve got it,” he said. “So, you’ll call me?”

“Of course,” Mylie lied. “I’ll call you!”

Seth followed her outside. “Hey!” he said, jogging after her. “Are you sure you aren’t just trying to get out of the date?

Because you can tell me if that’s the case. I’m a really nice guy, I swear.”

It was Mylie’s belief that most men who said they were nice guys weren’t actually nice guys at all, but she did her best to smile at him when she replied, “No, I’m not making it up. I really do have to go.”

“I’ve had women do this before,” Seth continued. “It’s okay if you aren’t attracted to me or something.”

Mylie suppressed her urge to sigh. “I’m not making it up.”

“So, I’ll give you a call,” Seth said, backing up a step. “Okay?”

“Great,” Mylie replied. She unlocked her car and got inside. Seth watched her from the parking lot. She knew neither of them would call each other. In fact, she would bet that he was going to go back inside that restaurant and unmatch her right then and there. She couldn’t really blame him.

By the time Mylie got home with a sympathy pizza from Cassie’s favorite place in Rockbridge, it was already dark. She’d also

stopped and gotten Cassie a Route 44 Cherry Limeade from Sonic, her favorite, along with a frozen Limeade for herself that

she entirely planned on pouring some gin into that she had stashed away in the freezer.

It was a Gin and Sonic kind of night.

Cassie looked up from her phone when Mylie walked through the door, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Their dog, Stanley, was

cuddled up next to her, the shredded shirt incident from earlier clearly forgotten.

They’d had Stanley since he was just six weeks old. He was a beautiful blue pit bull that Cassie’s father bought for fifty

dollars in a Walmart parking lot when she was visiting him in Little Rock. Now, he was a big, blockheaded sweetheart, but

back then, he’d been the runt of the litter, and Cassie told Granny and Mylie that she couldn’t just leave him there. They’d

been inseparable ever since.

“What happened?” Mylie set the pizza box down on the kitchen counter. “Where’s Granny?”

“She’s still outside with Morris,” Cassie said with a sniff. “I don’t even think they know I’m home.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Mylie replied. “Unless you want to hear Morris tell you about his bunions.”

“I definitely don’t want that,” Cassie said, a hint of a smile on her face.

“So,” Mylie said, sitting down next to her sister. “What’s going on?”

“It was stupid,” Cassie admitted. “Ryan sent me a snap while I was over at Allie’s, and she got all mad saying all I cared

about was my boyfriend. I wasn’t trying to ignore her, I swear.”

“But were you?” Mylie asked. “Was it just one snap?”

“It was about ten,” Cassie said, looking sheepish. “But I was listening to her, too!”

Mylie sighed. “I know Ryan is like, totally, hot...”

Cassie reached out and smacked her sister’s arm.

Mylie laughed and continued. “But you need to pay attention to your friends sometimes, too. Especially when Allie invited

you to her house. Not you and your phone and Ryan.”

“She’s just jealous,” Cassie muttered.

“Maybe,” Mylie replied. “Or maybe she misses her friend. Not everybody wants to have a boyfriend, but everybody wants to have

friends. And it doesn’t seem like you were being a very good one tonight.”

Cassie looked up at Mylie. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side,” Mylie said. “I’m always on your side. Which means I have to be honest with you every once in a while.”

“I know,” Cassie replied. “I know. I guess I should apologize.”

“I think she’d probably appreciate that,” Mylie said. “But only if you really mean it.”

“Can I invite her over to spend the night tomorrow night?” Cassie asked.

Mylie grinned. “I don’t see why not,” she said. “As long as Granny doesn’t mind.”

“As long as Granny doesn’t mind what?” came a voice from the back door.

“Allie at our house tomorrow,” Cassie answered.

“I don’t mind a bit, dear one,” Granny said, sitting down on the couch so that Cassie was squished in the middle. “That girl is sweet as pie.”

That was as high a compliment as a person could get from Granny. Violet Mason, the matriarch of the Mason family, didn’t like

just anyone. In fact, she actively disliked most people. At sixty-eight years old, she’d spent most of her life taking zero bullshit from anyone, and that included her

beloved granddaughters. Most people thought with a name like Granny, which she insisted anybody younger than she was call

her, that Violet would be a demure, white-haired senior citizen who spent her days knitting and fiddling with the television

remote.

But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. While most kids had a Nana or a Memaw to cuddle them and bring baked goods

to the school fundraiser, Mylie and Cassie had Granny, who had fire-red hair and lipstick to match, could drink any man under

the table, wore skintight hot pants, and would curse at the elementary school secretary when she wasn’t allowed to smoke in

the gymnasium during Christmas performances.

Not everybody in town loved Granny, but they sure as shit respected her. Granny just had a way of making people believe she

was someone to be respected. Mylie admired that more than just about anything else about her grandmother.

Granny was an institution in Clay Creek, and even though they liked to complain occasionally, Mylie and Cassie wouldn’t have

it any other way.

Cassie picked up the pizza and the Sonic cup and said, “I’m taking this to my room.”

“Don’t you squish that pepperoni into the carpet!” Granny called after her.

“I guess I don’t get any pizza,” Mylie grumbled.

“I can do you one better than pizza,” Granny said. “You use the rest of that gin in the freezer?” She pointed to Mylie’s Sonic

cup.

Mylie shook her head. “No,” she said, taking a long sip through the straw. “There’s a little bit left.”

“Thank the lord Jesus,” Granny replied, getting up and padding toward the kitchen. “You know I can’t drink around Morris.”

“You would go for a teetotaling Pentecostal deacon, wouldn’t you?” Mylie asked.

Granny pulled down a glass from the cabinet and turned to face her granddaughter. “Well, girls,” she said, winking at them.

“You know damn well they’re the most fun.”

Mylie laughed. “So you keep telling me.”

“How come you’re home so early, kiddo?” Granny asked. “I thought you had a date.”

“I did,” Mylie said.

“That bad, huh?” Granny replied.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Mylie replied. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace for it tonight.”

Granny raised an eyebrow and said, “You’re still thinking about the house, aren’t you?”

“Not the house, exactly,” Mylie admitted. “I’m just wondering about Ben. You know we haven’t spoken in years .”

“I know,” Granny replied.

“I don’t even know what I’ll say to him,” Mylie said.

“Hello would be a good start,” Granny said with a grin.

Mylie laughed. “The last time we talked was the spring break of his sophomore year in college,” she said. “He was going to

Florida with his friends, and I was so jealous.”

“What’s Florida got that we don’t have?” Granny asked.

“The ocean,” Mylie said. “White sand.”

Granny rolled her eyes. “Well, I reckon you two will get caught up and it’ll be just like old times.”

“Maybe,” Mylie said.

“I always knew he’d be back,” Granny said.

“You did?” Mylie asked.

Granny nodded. “I just didn’t know how long it would take.”

“Why does he need to come back to sell the house?” Mylie asked. “Why can’t he do that from Chicago or wherever it is that

he lives now?”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Granny said.

“I’m sure he does,” Mylie agreed. “Do you think he’ll look the same? I tried to Google him once a couple of years ago, but

he doesn’t come up on any social media searches, except for a few mentions from his college. But there weren’t any pictures.”

Granny shrugged. “I feel like you ought to have permission before you Google somebody.”

“I Google everyone,” Mylie replied.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Granny!” Mylie said with a laugh.

“Sorry,” Granny said, wiping at her eyes. “I couldn’t help it.” She patted Mylie on the shoulder. “It’s time for this old

gal to hit the hay.”

“Good night, Granny,” Mylie said.

“Good night, my darling,” Granny replied, kissing the top of Mylie’s head as she stood. “See you in the morning.”

Mylie watched as Granny sauntered down the hallway and off to her bedroom. She leaned back into the sofa and let out a sigh.

It was going to be weird to see Ben again after all these years. Losing touch with him had been gradual, and she didn’t blame

either of them for it. Life just... happened. She couldn’t even remember who had been the last to make an effort.

She picked up her phone and scrolled idly through it. She checked Cassie’s Instagram, the secret one Granny didn’t know about, just to make sure her little sister hadn’t posted anything that needed to be deleted. Overall, Cassie was a good kid. But she was also a teenager, and being a teenager on social media was perilous. Mylie was glad that she’d never had it when she was in high school. Some of her friends had, but it wasn’t as common as it was now. It made her cringe to think about all the trouble she—and Ben—would have gotten into if their lives had been posted all over the internet when they were teens.

Ben.

God, it had been so long. What did he look like now? Who was he? Was he the same old Ben? Mylie set her phone down on the

coffee table. She guessed she’d find out soon enough. In a few days, if Granny was right, and she nearly always was.

Mylie looked down at Stanley, who’d been snoozing at her feet and said, “Come on, dude. Let’s go to bed.”