49. Archer
Chapter forty-nine
Archer
Present
L oud snoring and a sweaty head interrupt my viewing of the latest Marvel movie. I push the man’s head back onto his headrest and turn up the volume on my earbuds. Air blasts into my face from the nozzle above me, and I welcome the chill as I contemplate what I’m going to do when I arrive back home. I didn’t tell anyone, not even Shantel, that I was coming home. I figured it’d be a great surprise to show up for Sunday dinner after I’ve fixed things with Tilly.
Sweat forms on my hands the closer we get to the ground, and as the wheels touch down, I know it’s not turbulence or the pilot’s landing that’s making me nauseated.
It’s her.
It’s finally being closer to my happily ever after.
Assuming Tilly will forgive me.
The thought strikes me beneath my ribcage. Tilly has no reason to forgive me for bailing on her, for fucking up a second chance to choose her over my fears. She never responded to the message I sent before I left, but I know she saw it.
I slide my sweaty palms over my jeans, staring at the cracked pleather of the seat in front of me as people exit the plane.
What happens if she won’t forgive you?
What if she doesn’t want you anymore ?
I pinch the skin at my neck as my throat constricts. That can’t happen. This can’t be the end of our journey together when we just started.
I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to her that we belong together. I may not have fought back then to make sure she knew what was inside my heart, but I won’t make that mistake again.
My skin tingles, heart racing as I call an Uber to the bakery. It’s still early, but if I know Tilly, she’ll already have the doors open. I rest my head against the seat and close my eyes, trying to hype myself up for seeing her again.
“That’ll be twenty-six-dollars,” the driver says, hand outstretched.
I pay him and slide out of the car, smoothing my slick hands down my jeans. I had him park on the next block, so I have time to gather my thoughts. My phone vibrates inside my pocket, but I’m too focused on my mission to allow anyone to interrupt my grand gesture.
I round the corner and almost plow into a few people gathered by the shop, hands cupped around their face looking into the windows. Elation fills my chest, and I can’t contain my smile. Tilly’s dreams are finally coming to fruition.
“What the hell?” someone says, face scrunched up as they walk away.
My phone continues to vibrate in my pocket, but I’m busy watching the small crowd with long faces dispersing from in front of Tilly’s bakery. I quicken my pace, curiosity pushing me forward until I’m standing in front of a large red and white sign with the words ‘For Lease’ written across it.
The thud of my stomach has the effect of a shotgun going off, and all the proverbial crows flap their wings in effort to get away, taking my breath with them.
She’s not opening the bakery ?
My attention moves to my no longer vibrating phone, and I see messages from Shantel but swipe them away. I bring up Tilly’s number and press call.
She doesn’t answer.
I shoot off a text to her and bring up the message thread I have with Shantel. Multiple messages stare back at me, and my stomach twists as I read each one.
Where are you?
Are you at the set?
Tilly flew all the way there to see you, the least you could do is answer your messages!
Realization dawns on me. I never texted Shantel back after she asked me to come home soon. She didn’t know I was coming. Fuck. Hands shaking, I dial Shantel’s number. One ring passes before her exasperated voice is in my ear.
“Where the hell are you?”
“I’m here,” I yell back. And because there are more important things to do than yell at my pseudo-sister, I add, “Tilly’s not opening the bakery?”
“What do you mean you’re here? You’re supposed to be in Knoxville!”
Her screeching makes me pull the phone away from my ear. When she’s finally calmed down, I take a moment to gather my own thoughts.
“I came back to surprise her…to try and win her back.”
She growls at me. “Damn it, Arch. What kind of Hallmark shit you trying to pull here?”
My laugh is wooden. “You told me I needed to come back.”
“I didn’t mean today.” She sighs heavily and says something to Nora in the background. “Sorry, I should’ve been more clear. Baby brain. ”
I lean against the door, struggling to gather my thoughts. Tilly flew all the way to Knoxville to see me, and I came here for the same reason.
“You could’ve given me a heads-up she was planning to come, you know. Text her and tell her to come home.”
“She’s calling me,” she says. “I’ll call you back.”
The line cuts off before I have a chance to say anything else, and I stand in front of the bakery that should be open and busy serving customers. I cup my hands and peer into the shop. Everything inside is ready. The tables are set up, the boxes are put together and on shelves, and the only thing missing, other than Tilly, are her sweet treats.
A plan formulates in my head, and without a second thought I rip down the for-lease sign and shoot off a bunch of texts to Shantel, Nora, and Tilly’s father.
I may not have gotten to tell the woman I love that she’s more than enough, but I’ll be damned if I don’t show her.
***
Grocery shopping with Mr. St. James is something I never thought I’d be doing, but as we traverse the aisles gathering ingredients to make Tilly’s recipes, I find his presence slightly calming. With a list in hand, he hums merrily, tossing a few bars of unsweetened chocolate into the basket.
“Are you going to marry my daughter?” he asks, adding a bag of flour.
Stunned by his question, I stop mid-stride. Adrenaline courses through my veins thinking about Tilly in a white dress, standing across from me, this time with me as her groom. Would I marry her? In a heartbeat. Would she marry me? Doubtful.
“If she’d have me, absolutely.”
He continues down the aisle as if he didn’t ask me a heart-stopping question. My skin is tingling, head swimming in the clouds .
“Her dreams have to be important to you,” he mumbles. “She’s lost too much already.”
I stop him, my hand resting on his forearm. “That’s why I’m here doing this. I won’t let her give up because I was an idiot.”
“This is all fine and dandy, but what happens when you leave? Will she have to move with you? Give up her bakery and her dreams again?”
I shake my head. “I’ll do whatever she wants me to.”
The words leave my mouth without another thought, and in my heart of hearts, I know it to be true. If Tilly asked me to stay, to give up the carpentry show, I would.
I know this is a conversation I should be having with Tilly, not her father, but I need him to know I’m serious about his daughter. I’ve always been serious about her. And it’s time I make sure she knows it too.
“Archer?” a woman’s voice stops me.
A cold sensation overtakes me and I’m frozen as I stare at my mother at the end of the aisle. Why is she here? She has maids that cook for her. She tilts her head, looking at Mr. St. James with a hint of confusion in her eyes.
“Why haven’t you answered my calls?” she asks, pushing her cart toward me.
Tilly’s dad and I share a look before he saunters off to get the rest of the ingredients needed to start baking.
I sigh and cross my arms. “I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to call your own mother back?”
I clamp my lips over my teeth, anger simmering at the surface, ready to boil over. As much as I want to call her out on being a shitty mom, now is not the time.
“I bet you call Nora back when she calls,” she mumbles .
I guess this is the time.
The lid covering my emotions blows off, and heat flares in my chest.
“I absolutely do call Nora back.” My voice raises. “You want to know why?”
“Archibald,” she chastises.
I’m vaguely aware of all the eyes on us, but I’m done letting her make me feel bad for her lack of parenting and motherly qualities.
“She’s the only mom I’ve known since I was a child. You and Dad were so busy trying to be the best surgeons, you didn’t even bother being good parents.”
“We were great parents to you,” she whisper-yells. “You had a roof over your head, food in the fridge, and more toys than anyone could ask for.”
Unchecked anger rises, and I tamp it down. I step closer to her and lower my voice. “If you think that’s all it takes to show a kid love, then you’re more delusional than I thought.”
“Well, your sister and brother felt loved.”
“Don’t you bring them into this.” I bend down, pointing my finger in her face. “You’re the last person that should ever be commenting on the love you gave to Sebastian. You sat by while Dad put so much pressure on him that he turned to drugs.”
The crack of her hand echoes through the baking aisle, the sting of the slap warming my face. “I did not.”
Her lip is quivering, hand drawn to her chest like even she can’t believe she just hit her own child.
“I’ll tell you like I told Claire. Sebastian’s death is on you and Dad. You can blame me all you want for your missteps as parents, but I’m done hearing them. I’m done allowing you guys to make me feel like I don’t deserve everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve built from the ground up. ”
“Oh that’s grand.”
“If you can’t see how you failed me as a mother, then I don't want you in my life.”
She sneers. “You think being a parent is so easy, but just wait until you have your own kids.”
“I can’t wait to have my own kids, because they sure as hell will know that they’re loved and won’t be blamed for their parents’ mistakes.” Spittle flies out of my mouth, and I inhale a short breath. “And they won’t be scared to tell me they need help because my expectations mean more to them than their own mental health and wellbeing. I’ll encourage my kids to go after things they love rather than pushing my own dreams on them like you guys did.”
Her mouth pops open and closed like a fish, a flush rising to her cheeks.
“Save it,” I say. “I’m done listening.”
I turn and walk away, searching for Tilly’s dad. Like I expected, my mother doesn’t follow, doesn’t try to make excuses for her actions. My chest is lighter as I approach the checkout station, proud of myself for standing up to her.
“Everything okay?” Tilly’s dad asks.
I nod and give him a pained smile as I pull out my card and hand it to the cashier.
Making dozens of cookies and treats was not how I expected to spend this morning, but if I can somehow get Tilly’s bakery up and running before she gets back, then I have to try.
I can’t let the woman of my dreams give up on her own.