Instead of a ticket to Denver, I’m packing the truck up and heading to Arizona for the holidays.
I’ve moved into my new apartment but haven’t even begun to unpack boxes yet. Something won’t allow me. There was a glitch in the paperwork from the buyers of the old house and it’s still in pending status. Maybe that place isn’t meant to be sold, or maybe I’m just thinking too much into it and too afraid to let go of something else in my life that had significance.
With my bag in one hand and a travel mug filled to the brim with coffee in the other, my phone begins buzzing in the pocket of my hoodie. I drop the bag to the floor, causing some of the coffee to spill out of the top. Reaching in, I pull out my phone, not recognizing the caller.
“Hello.”
“Nash Whitmore, this is Gary Bridges from Pelton Farms calling to let you know that your”—he pauses—“Demon Berry Blood wine is ready for pickup.”
The wine. Of course. I forgot all about that. My heart twinges when memories of that day flood back.
He continues, “We can hold it for fourteen days. If it’s not picked up by then, we will put a new label on it and sell it in our discounted cooler.”
“No problem at all, Gary. I’ll be there to pick it up within the next hour or two.”
With that, we end the call.
Sending Lori a quick text, I let her know that I’m six minutes out. Rowan is at work for another hour. Apparently she picked up a bartending job at some pub in Redwood. Hopefully the men in that establishment are keeping their hands to themselves. The idea of another man touching Rowan has my jaw ticking in fury. Another reason why I can’t let any more time pass. The longer I wait to tell her how I feel, the longer I risk her moving on.
I pull into the townhouse and pick out Lori’s immediately when I see her neon green Volkswagen Beetle in the driveway. There is a row of connected houses on a dead-end street, with Lori’s being directly in the middle. There isn’t much of a yard, but the view in the distance is an open desert. Before I can even get out of the truck, Lori comes briskly down the driveway in her slippers and a long sundress. “Nash.” She beams, opening the door for me and throwing her arms around me like we’re long lost friends.
“Good to see you, too, Lori.” I return the hug, much less forcefully.
“Oh would you stop it.” She swats my arm. “Call me Aunt Lori.”
“Okay. Aunt Lori.” I inwardly chuckle. Grabbing my bag from the passenger seat, I swing it over my arm and climb out of the truck. The weather is pretty much the same here, just a tad bit drier than Sunnyville. Christmas lights wrap around the windows that face the driveway. Even in the sunshine of the day, they’re still on. Barely able to make out the red and green glow, but a hint of light reflects off from the glass.
“Rowan should be home in about twenty minutes, so I’m going to get out of your hair and give you two some privacy.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. Stick around.”
“No, no. You have a lot to talk about.” We begin walking up to the house. “Besides, I have to finish up some last-minute shopping.”
As soon as we step inside, a little white ball of fur yelps at my feet, wagging its little tail and pawing at my leg. “Who’s this little guy?”
Lori scoops him up. “This is Buster. Rowan adopted him last week. She’s always been such an animal lover. Saw him at the pound when she was volunteering and couldn’t resist.”
I give him a rub to the head and he begins licking my hand. “I didn’t even know she was doing volunteer work.” There’s probably a lot I don’t know. I’m aware of the big stuff. Who her family is, what life was like growing up. I know that she likes her popcorn slightly burnt and gets choked up at sappy movies. But there is so much more I want to know. Does she sleep on her side, back, or stomach? What’s her favorite animal? When is her birthday? Damn, I don’t even know when her birthday is.
Suddenly, I feel inadequate. It’s possible that coming here was the stupidest idea I’ve ever had. She’s doing well. Seems like she’s happy. Is my visit going to wash up the pain of the past? It was a spontaneous trip because I’ve felt this aching emptiness inside and I thought that if I could just see her, even for a short time, I’d feel complete again. I never considered what happens when I go back home.
Lori takes my face into her hands. The musky smell of whatever perfume she’s wearing rolls off from her and tickles the hairs in my nose, almost making me sneeze. “Don’t be nervous. She’s going to be so happy to see you.”
I smile, trying not to look at the bright pink smear of lipstick on her teeth.
I wasn’t nervous until she said that. Or maybe I was and now I’m nervous that it shows.
Damn, I feel like a schoolboy getting ready to ask the hot girl to prom. Rubbing my sweaty palms on my jeans, I look around the small space. It offers a homely feel. Candles flickering on the center island of the kitchen that connects to the living room. An open floor plan with just a small hallway off to the right. There’s a tabletop Christmas tree in front of the window with a silver star on top. A couple small presents sit underneath the end table it’s perched on.
“Let me show you your room for the next couple of nights.” Lori begins walking down the hall to a beige carpeted staircase. I follow behind her and when we reach the top, there is another small living room with just a sofa and a television mounted on the wall, a bathroom, and two more rooms. “My bedroom is downstairs. You’ll be staying in the room up here across from Rowan.” She points to the bathroom. “Towels are in the closet in there.” She turns behind her and opens the door, but my eyes are focused solely on the room across from it with the open door. Rowan’s room. Her bed is made up with a white comforter and matching white pillows. A small nightstand with a white lamp, and Gemma’s black journal. Curiosity pulls me in the room as Lori stands at the doorway and watches.
Walking over to the nightstand, I skim my fingers across the black leather. “Has she read it?”
Lori closes her eyes briefly and nods.
Would it be an invasion of privacy if I opened it? Gemma never mentioned that she wanted me to have this. It was meant for Rowan.
Whatever it was, it must not have pertained to me. Rowan has never attempted to call me and talk about it, so it must have just been something between the two of them. Something from their childhood, perhaps.
Looking around the room, I see that one thing hasn’t changed. Rowan’s clothes are thrown all about on the floor on the other side of the bed. For some reason, it pulls at my heartstrings a little. It’s the little things.
“What’s going on here?” Her voice comes from behind me, spinning me around and leaving me breathless. Lori must have seen her coming, because she’s nowhere in sight.
Tossing my hands up, I grin. “Surprise.”
“Yeah, you could say that. What are you doing here? In my room?” She comes toward me quickly, her demeanor changing. “Give me that.” She swipes the journal out of my hand. I didn’t even realize I had picked it up.
“I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Just what? In the neighborhood?”