“It’s so nice to meet you, Chase. This town needs more handsome young men in it,” she tells me, leaning over the counter to hand me the hot pink shopping bag. Freckled-covered cleavage threatens to spill out of her blouse, and Josh is dying next to me as he tries to contain his laughter.
“Uh, yeah.” I take the bag and offer a small smile.
“Don’t be a stranger,” she coos. “It’s so nice you want to shop for your niece. I can help you pick something out next time.”
“Thanks.” I give her a nod and take a step back, then quickly turn and follow Josh outside.
“You’ve made quite the impression on her,” he laughs when the door closes. “She’s single, you know.”
I shudder and shake my head. “She reminds me of my grandma. My mom’s mom,” I add since Josh and I have different grandparents. “Which is weird, since I’ve only seen her like half a dozen times and she was always drunk.”
Josh’s pace slows and I wish I could eat my words. I know he feels bad for not standing up for me in the past. We were kids. I didn’t expect him to. I don’t reveal much about my past to anyone, and I’m careful not to let Josh know how shitty it was. He’s a good person. There’s no reason to upset him or further his guilt.
“Melissa works at the bank, right?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Yeah, she’s a manager.”
“Is she still working?”
“She wants to work as close to her due date as possible. Well, if she can make it that long. She’s pretty uncomfortable already and still has several weeks to go.”
“I can imagine.”
“We can stop in and say hi, if you don’t mind. She told me her co-workers keep asking about you.”
I shake my head. “This town is weird.”
We cross the street and enter the bank. A big plaque next to the door informs me of the historic significance of the building and was home to a standoff between an infamous outlaw and the sheriff over a hundred years ago.
“Hi, Josh,” the security guard says to my brother. He’s leaning against the wall, cell phone in hand, and looking bored.
“Hey, Wyatt. How are you doing today?”
Wyatt shrugs. “Same old, same old. You?”
“I’m good. Have you met my brother? This is Chase, Chase, this is Wyatt.”
“Nice to meet you,” Wyatt says and holds out his hand. He’s tall and thin, with sandy blonde hair and sunburned cheeks. He looks at me then diverts his eyes, which has been common today. Seems everyone in this town knows me as the product of my father’s affair and they’ve clearly sided with Team Judy Henson, though I can’t really blame them. My father was a selfish asshole who got another woman pregnant while he was married to Judy, the kind-hearted schoolteacher.
“Y’all here to see Melissa?” Wyatt asks.
“Yeah,” Josh says. “We were in town anyway so I thought I’d check on her. Her back was hurting bad this morning.”
Feeling eyes on me, I turn and see the friend Sierra was with Friday night looking out at me from behind the counter. She has shoulder-length dark hair and has her brown eyes heavily rimmed in black liner.
“Hey, Josh,” she calls. “Want me to get Melissa?”
“Only if she’s not busy,” Josh says and takes a step over to her.
“She’s not. It’s been slow today.” She looks past Josh at me. “So this is the brother I keep hearing about?”
“Yeah, this is Chase.”
“Hi, I’m Lisa. Sierra told me what you did,” she starts. “Thanks for watching out for her.”
I shrug. “It was nothing.”
“Well, I appreciate it. And she does too.” She gives me a smile. “I’ll go get Melissa.”
“What the hell happened?” Josh asks as soon as Lisa goes into the back.
“Some guy was bothering her. I made sure she got to her car all right. Really, it was nothing.”
“Thanks,” he says heavily. “I’d probably be forced to close if something bad happened to a Belmont at my bar.”
“She seems pretty capable.” My mind flashes to her face, set with determination as she told me she could handle herself. “I think she would have been fine.”
“Either way, I’m glad you made sure it didn’t get to that point.”
Melissa waddles out of the backroom, and I swear she’s bigger than the last time I saw her. I’m impressed she’s still up and on her feet at this point. The doors open and close behind me, and out of habit I turn.
A cop walks in, going right up to the counter. I recognize him as Lisa’s boyfriend, who she was hanging all over at the bar Friday night. Lisa says something to him, and he gives me a smile and a wave.
Josh and I get lunch after that, and he orders a to-go box to take to Melissa, who was craving a burger and fries. Having spotted a bookstore on the way to the café, I tell him I’m going in while he runs the food to the bank. I stop before I cross the street, needing to get my fix. I look around, making sure there is no one around to interrupt me and pull my phone from my back pocket. That alone should be enough to make me delete all the messages. The mystery woman won’t stop occupying my brain.
I need to delete and move on. But I can’t. Not until I hear the last message.
“I’m not okay,” she says and starts to cry, voice tight and hard to understand from all the emotion. Her sobbing is soft and almost beautiful. “Everyone keeps telling me that I’ll be okay. They want me to be because they don’t want to deal with me not being okay. I wish they knew that sometimes it’s okay to not be okay.”
I listen to the message again and move onto the next.
Wind blows through the speaker, masking her voice. I press the phone to my ear to hear better. “I keep thinking about the garden. I even sketched up a plan. But then I looked out back and realized how much work it’s gonna be. I’m standing there now, looking at all the weeds that I don’t want to deal with. Maybe next year.”
It’s the most normal message she’s left, and it hits me the hardest. This woman desperately wants her loved one back and is calling as if he’s going to answer. It’s heartbreaking. I put my phone back in my pocket and walk across the street. A faded sign that reads The Book Bag hangs above the store. A little bell rings when I open the door and step inside, getting hit right away with the familiar smell of ink and paper. The store is small, packed full with as many books as possible. It’s bright and airy in here, and the large windows along the storefront let in sunlight. Sierra is sitting behind the counter, nose buried in a book. She looks up and blinks.
“Chase.” Her voice is welcome and familiar.
“Hey, Sierra,” I say back and spy the cover of her book. “That’s a good one.”
She carefully slides a bookmark into place and closes the book, running her fingers over the cover almost as if she’s caressing a beloved pet. “You’ve read it?”
I nod. “I read the whole series.”
“Oh.” She doesn’t try to hide the surprise on her face but instead looks at me with curiosity. “This one is pretty dark.”