Chapter Five #2
Although I couldn’t remember my early years, I knew I’d jumped through hoops as an adult just to get them to notice me.
Really notice me. No one had been more helpful, dependable, reliable than I was.
If any of them needed something, they knew who to turn to.
But that was the issue. It felt to me as though they only reached out when they needed my help with babysitting or dog-sitting or a ride to the airport.
It had taken a lightning strike for them to really pay me any kind of real attention.
“When do you think you’ll be coming home?” Amy asked. “You’ve already been gone more than a month.”
My family had been shocked I left at all. I’d never been one to stray far from home. Or stray at all, honestly. I’d commuted to college, and I still lived with my parents. Jaws had dropped when I told them I was taking a solo road trip, and they’d all tried to talk me out of it.
I tried for a breezy tone as I said, “There’s no rush, is there? I don’t have to be back to work until mid-August, so I can extend this vacation until then if I want.”
“Is that what this is?” Amy asked pointedly. “A vacation?”
I turned off the truck, slipped the keys into my bag. “What else would it be?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe running away?”
She’d hit too close to the truth for comfort. Only I wasn’t so much running away as I was escaping.
The thought of going back home and seeing Grandpa’s empty apartment made my breath catch, my heart hurt. On top of that, there were all the ways my family had been trying to help me. Help me remember. Help me heal. Help me feel normal again.
It was very kind, caring, loving of them to rally around me.
But the weight of it was overwhelming. Absolutely, unequivocally crushing.
As for normal, that ship had sailed. Not only because of what I’d been through medically, emotionally, but also because over the last few months it had become clear to me that a big part of my identity had been formed by my need to be seen by my family.
I’d needed this trip to find out who I was away from everyone else.
And I was still figuring that out.
“You are coming back, aren’t you?” she added.
“I don’t know,” I said, forcing a lightness to my voice. “I kind of like it here.”
“Do I need to remind you that you’ve been in that town less than twenty-four hours?”
I smiled at the impatience in her tone. “Sometimes you just know.”
She sighed dramatically.
It seemed the perfect opportunity to get off the phone, so I quickly promised I’d check in soon and hung up before she could say anything else.
I hopped out of the truck and headed for the store’s front doors. A blast of air-conditioning welcomed me into the store just as I realized I’d forgotten to ask Amy if I ever sneaked out of the house when I was little.
But perhaps I didn’t need to ask.
Maybe I’d remember on my own.
I was happily surprised to find that Snug’s General Store was a decently sized market. People smiled or nodded as they passed by, some giving me a curious glance—as if recognizing that I was a stranger to these parts. Country music drifted through the air. The air-conditioning was heaven.
As I stood in line at the pharmacy, I couldn’t help wondering how I’d ended up here. In Snug’s, picking up a prescription for a man I’d just met yesterday but somehow felt I knew well.
I didn’t quite know, but I hadn’t been lying to Katy last night.
I was glad I was here. It felt … right. Comfortable. As if I was exactly where I needed to be.
Once I paid for the prescription, I zoomed around to pick up a few more items before finding myself in the dog food aisle, looking at the selection for puppies. I had no idea what to choose.
“Why do you look lost?” someone asked from nearby.
I turned and found Callum Hearnshaw walking toward me, his arms full of groceries.
Lost. If he only knew.
“Don’t suppose you know anything about what a puppy eats?” I asked.
As he stepped up next to me, he said, “I didn’t realize you had a dog.”
He was dressed for work in blue pants, a gray T-shirt, and a ball cap. The faint smell of oil drifted over to me, along with something earthier. Woodsy. Cedar, maybe. I realized I didn’t hate the combo. It was … intriguing.
I felt myself blushing slightly as I said, “I don’t. Tenn does. Well, kind of. A stray puppy showed up at his house this morning, covered in mud.” I eyed the loaf of bread that was being squished between his forearm and rib cage. “Do you want me to get you a basket?”
“Thanks, but no. I’m about done.” He smiled. “Would you believe I only came in for one thing?”
I liked his smile. Wide, warm, friendly.
“I would, actually. I think stores should have baskets placed here and there among the aisles for people who overestimate how much they can hold. You know, if they aren’t too stubborn to use one.”
His lip twitched. “Are you calling me stubborn?”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Can I get you a basket?”
“Honest, I don’t need one.” As he said it, a can of Chef Boyardee fell from his stash and hit the floor.
I grabbed it before it rolled away and smiled as I carefully balanced it on top of his stockpile. “I rest my case.”
He stared at the can accusingly. “Baskets around the store, you say?”
I laughed and gestured to all the cans of dog food displayed before me. “How am I supposed to pick?”
His eyebrows dropped low. “Was the puppy you found a girl? Brown and fluffy?”
“Well, she wasn’t fluffy until after I gave her a bath. That was an experience.”
He laughed. “I can imagine.”
The sound launched butterflies in my stomach. I tried to stay focused. “Do you know who she belongs to? The puppy?”
“I don’t. But someone was hanging a LOST DOG poster on the door when I came in a few minutes ago.”
“Really? Katy’s going to be heartbroken. She’s already in love.”
“I bet. That girl adores animals. Have you seen her stuffed animal collection yet?”
I shook my head.
“It’s impressive. If you’re lucky enough, she’ll even name one after you.”
I sized him up, noting the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Which one did she name after you?”
“It’s a platypus. The resemblance is uncanny.”
I laughed. “Platypuses are cute, so maybe she’s onto something.”
As soon as I said it, I wanted to snatch the words back, but instead, I died a little inside.
“That’s real kind of you,” he said. “I thought it was more a commentary on my big nose.”
“Your nose isn’t big.” I almost added it was perfect but caught myself in time.
Clearly it had been a while since I’d had a conversation with a handsome man.
Eons. I hadn’t been on a date since last summer—a disastrous outing involving a mud run and utter humiliation that had me swearing off men for a while.
Before I made a bigger fool of myself, I randomly grabbed several kinds of puppy food and practically threw them in the cart.
“I don’t suppose there’s any news on my car?
” I asked, seeking safer conversational ground.
“I searched online for engine trouble with blue smoke and couldn’t find anything. ”
Callum shifted the groceries in his arms. “It’s pretty rare, but I’ve seen it before.”
“So it’s fixable?”
There was a softness to his blue eyes that reminded me of a morning sky, and those butterflies in my chest were mesmerized.
Nodding, he said, “It might take some time, though. I should have more information for you by tonight. I’ll call.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said, then immediately looked around for a cliff to throw myself off of.
Our gazes locked, making those butterflies zoom every which way.
After a long beat, he said, “I should be gettin’ back to work.”
My whole body was buzzing, part embarrassment, part … hope. “And I should finish my shopping.”
With a nod and a smile, he turned and walked away.
Halfway down the aisle, a bag of shredded cheese fell from his arms, and I resisted yelling out the word stubborn. He threw a grin over his shoulder, though, making me suspect he knew what I was thinking.
Smiling, I watched him walk round the corner, then snapped to.
I quickly finished the rest of my shopping and checked out.
When I saw the LOST DOG poster hanging in the store’s entryway, my heart sank for Katy.
It was definitely the same puppy we’d found.
I pulled the sign down and decided to make a stop at the library on my way home to let Tallulah know.
Outside, I quickly loaded the groceries into the truck, then climbed in.
I rolled down the windows, blasted the air-conditioning, and checked the weather radar—all clear.
A few minutes later, I had the blinker on to turn left out of the lot when I finally noticed a robin’s feather caught under one of the windshield wipers.