8. Chapter 8
Skye
S kye barely focused on placing one foot in front of the other. If not for the new sidewalk, she could easily have tripped and broken her ankle with how little attention she paid to where she was going.
Rabble’d still been working diligently when she’d called it a day, unable to erase the feeling of his lips pressed sweetly to her cheek.
Any hope she had of being marginally successful for the remainder of the day had fled at the brief touch.
When she realized her focus was truly shot, the garland in her hand having been threaded and rethreaded three times, Skye organized her supplies and hurried away from the still-crowded warehouse.
She needed to clear her head, a difficult task considering his scent lingered in her nose, the smell of forest and summer rain.
She opted to walk through town instead of heading toward her cottage, hoping some of the rose-tinted clouds would drift out of her consciousness and allow her to think clearly.
Given how lonely she’s been, she was eternally thankful for Elyza’s friendship, but what in the world had her friend been thinking, pairing her with Rabble for the parade float?
Granted, there was no way Elyza could have known about Skye’s complicated background when it came to that particular subject.
She had done her best to suppress that part of her past, and though aspects of it still seeped into her daily life, she preferred to ignore them.
Thinking about when Rabble had been a reassuring constant in her life made her long for things she had given up hoping for, like adventure and a lifelong confidant.
They’d spent years planning the places they wanted to see, the things they wanted to do, with only the lilac bush and the shade tree as witnesses to their childish dreaming.
All these years later, Skye still thought about when she’d find Rabble already lying by the fence, waiting for her.
He would spend hours upon hours out there, breathing in the scent of peace.
Skye didn’t ask questions; she let him decompress for several long minutes until he was ready to speak.
Did Rabble know he provided the same peace for her that she did for him?
Thoughts like those made her shake her head to clear them away. What good did it do her? They promised each other they’d leave Shiloh Hills together on graduation day and never look back.
Well, Rabble had left, alright. But he didn’t bother to take her with him.
Why on earth did he join the army? Why had he run away … from her?
In all of their long conversations, their daydreaming and planning, he’d never mentioned that path as one he might want to pursue. Had he, maybe she could have made him understand, could have showed him that she didn’t care where they went, what they did, as long as they were together.
In those days, when Skye looked to her future, there wasn’t a single scenario where he wasn’t right by her side, sharing in every moment, every triumph and trial, with her.
When she let herself think about their days together under the fence, the days when they learned to love and hurt together, the thought of being without him tore at her very soul, at the core of who she was.
Remembering those long-ago conversations and broken promises did nothing for her mental health, and if she was going to get through the next several days working alongside him, she needed to see Rabble as a man, as a friend of a friend—not the boy who forgot her. Besides, she was different now too.
Despite telling herself to stop that line of thinking, Skye commenced a full-blown pity party by the time she reached the end of the street.
Fortunately for her mood and unfortunately for her waist, Brick House Cafe was open for business, and several colorful pastries lined the inside a pretty little glass case.
Skye wondered which pastry went best with heartache and painful memories.
Chocolate. It had to be chocolate.
Inside the cafe, a long counter separated the small but functional kitchen from the seating area.
Glass topped cake stands housed sweet treats in a fantastic array of flavors and colors.
Muffins and brownies, cake pops and some other fluffy pastries, each arranged artfully on the trays and along the short glass dome beside the register.
Several wrought iron bistro sets dotted the chalky black and white checked tile floor.
Exposed brick reached from the floor to the open HVAC and steel support beams overhead.
The place had cozy industrial written all over it, not to mention the warm and inviting atmosphere.
Skye immediately felt her shoulders ease as she slid into one of the bistro chairs.
Like Elyza, the owner, Kellyn, was a transplant to the town, but she moved to Shiloh Hills and opened the cafe several years ago.
She worked behind the counter, whipping up specialty coffees and hot drinks and using a pair of dainty tongs to place soft pastries on several tiered dessert stands and behind the domed glass.
Flour dusted the pockets of her black apron, and a smudge of whipped topping sat on her cheek, beneath her multicolored glasses frames.
She wore her signature red hair piled high atop her head, and a black bandana separated the artfully messy bun from the choppy bangs that hung over her forehead.
Skye smiled. Kellyn never failed to cheer her up, partially because the woman looked like she just stepped out of a Rosie the Riveter poster, if Rosie wore black denim and leather and carried a frosting bag instead of a wrench.
Before Skye could lift her hand in greeting, Kellyn turned to her, eyebrow raised, and immediately picked up a chocolate donut with hot pink frosting swirled on top, plated it, and slid it onto the table in front of Skye.
A moment later, a white chocolate mocha joined the plate, and Skye found herself struggling to hold back tears.
“How do you always know?” She sniffled, willing the pressure behind her eyes to subside.
That was all she needed to break down and blubber like a crazy woman in the middle of the local cafe.
Kellyn gave her a secret smile, revealing straight white teeth. “I work in mysterious ways.”
“Elyza called, didn’t she?”
“—and Elyza called.” Kellyn’s smile turned sheepish, and she slid into the opposite seat.
Skye should have known; Elyza worked faster than the emergency call service in Shiloh Hills.
If someone needed something, you could bet Elyza would have that item procured within a few minutes.
Unfortunately, the talent seemed to extend to news about her friends as well.
Skye couldn’t complain too much. Elyza meant well.
Chuckling with defeat, Skye took a bite of the pastry to stall their inevitable conversation and groaned with appreciation as she savored the chocolate treat that never lost its pillowy center.
“Should I expect her to show up too?” Skye contemplated licking the remaining icing from her fingers. In the end, she grabbed a napkin and cleaned off her hands.
A rush of hot air swept over them as the door opened and in walked Elyza, her forehead dotted with sweat from the trek over, even though her shop and the cafe were both on the same block, just opposite ends.
A giggle escaped Skye, and she shoved her hand in front of her mouth to keep from spewing crumbs everywhere at Kellyn’s knowing look.
Skye was thankful for these women, more than she could ever express.
After Rabble, Skye struggled to make friends, always throwing up a wall between her and whoever tried to get closer.
Holding everyone at arm’s length was easier, but it made for a lonely existence, especially as her college friends went off, got married, and had babies.
Kellyn and Elyza were different though, and they both seemed to adopt her as their own.
Sometimes the best part of their friendship was the silence they allowed to lapse between them; it was so much like the reflective quiet she’d enjoyed with Rabble, and her friends seemed to understand her needs.
She loved them for that, the unspoken understanding and acceptance that went into everything the three of them did.
Even now, with both of them most likely dying to find out about Skye’s issue with Rabble, neither of her friends would push the issue until she was ready to talk.
She needed to be the one to open that line of conversation. After that though, it was fair game.
Taking another bite, Skye chewed thoughtfully, searching her memories for a good place to start. Summing up her history with Rabble would be complicated and messy. Parts of their time together, like the night his mother died, belonged solely to them.
Deciding what to tell them was harder than she anticipated, and she ended up sitting back and finishing her donut while Elyza and Kellyn made small talk.
The chocolate worked its way into the cracks of her heart and soothed the jagged and painful edges.
Explaining who Rabble was to her was like explaining the Sun in relation to the Earth, a vital element that could both heal and scorch.
It wasn’t an easy thing to describe, how intrinsically they had been linked, only to have that connection sundered so completely.
When the last of her pastry was gone, Skye cleared her throat, and her friends turned toward her, their conversation forgotten as they sat, ready to listen and be by her side, no matter what.
“I’ve known Rabble since we were children. He was my next-door neighbor. But…he was so much more than that.” Skye kept her voice as even as she could and waited for the explosion.