I reckon it may be the last time I get to hold her like this.
“I’m sorry. I literally just got the message about Jay,” Uncle Johnny apologizes.
I immediately called him after Magnolia left to head home.
“My secretary’s on maternity leave, and the temp sucks, for lack of a better way of sayin’ it. I’m lookin’ up flights as we speak.”
“No, don’t bother. Honestly, there’s no reason for you to head here.”
Silence greets me on the other end. Finally, my uncle says, “I don’t like the idea of you there with her.” His voice is low, and the concern is obvious.
“Actually, I wasn’t plannin’ on hangin’ around. I wanted to ask you for a favor.”
“Anythin’.”
“That apprenticeship you mentioned a while back? I wondered if—”
“It’s yours.” Then he hesitates, making me nervous. “But I’m in the UK right now, and it would mean travelin’. Things are pretty busy.”
I exhale with relief. “I’m good with that.”
His tone softens. “You sure?”
I close my eyes and run a hand down the back of my neck, gripping the tense muscles. This is my chance. To prove that I can make something of myself.
“Yes, sir. Never been surer.”
Magnolia
SOPHOMORE YEAR
NOVEMBER
AUBURN UNIVERSITY
“We are not watching The Lake House again.” My roommate stamps a hand on her hip, pursing her lips in irritation. “I’m officially staging an intervention.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s just a movie.”
Stephanie stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. Which I haven’t.
The only thing I’ve lost is my heart.
“You sob every time you watch it. Like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen it.”
I lie back on my bed. “Fine. I won’t watch it when you’re around from now on.”
“Not the point!” she says with exasperation. Jabbing an index finger in my direction she commands, “Get up. Shower. Dress in something cute. Slap on some makeup.” With a stern look, she adds, “Now.”
I stare at her warily, and with a cautious tone, I ask, “Why?”
“Because we’re getting out of here to go and be social.”
I wrinkle my nose at the word “social.” “No, thanks.”
Her eyebrows rise, and that look? Oh, boy. The girl’s got a bee in her bonnet, for sure. “I didn’t ask. I told you.” She gestures to the bathroom. “Go shower. Now.”
I heave out a breath as I drag myself up off the bed. “Fine.”
Nearly an hour later, Stephanie’s managed to coerce me into wearing a long-sleeved dress I haven’t put on in months and pair it with an infinity scarf. The weather’s been far cooler than normal, so I pull on a pair of knee-high boots. I manage to apply some light makeup, and it feels odd when I do, considering I’ve lived in yoga pants and gone sans makeup since the summer.
Since he left.
The pinch in my chest isn’t quite as fierce, but it still hurts. Like an ache that seeps all the way to the marrow of your bones.
A part of me wishes he would’ve just left and never stayed in touch. But the other part—the far larger part—lives for the brief and sporadic text messages with a photo from wherever he’s at for work. He never types anything more than, Greetings from [his current city or town], Shortcake.
Photos of places I’ve never seen.
Of a life I don’t share with him.
It doesn’t escape my notice that those photos never include him. Maybe it’s his way of trying to ease my ache of missing him so much.
When I began receiving mail from him, it was bittersweet. He never writes anything aside from my address on the envelope, but inside, he stuffs a postcard from wherever he’s traveled to for his uncle’s business. But that’s not the only thing he sends me.
He always remembers to include a pack of cherry Pop Rocks, too.
“Come on, woman. Hurry it up!” Stephanie demands, tapping the toe of her boot on the floor. I hurriedly brush my hair and leave it in loose waves before rushing over to where she waits at the door.
She inspects me from head to toe, looking pleased. “Not too shabby.” She links her arm with mine and tugs me out the door, locking up quickly. “Let’s go be social.”
About an hour later, I start to wonder if an alien source has taken over my roommate.
Reason number one: She’s chatting with a guy and giggling.
Reason number two: She’s giggling. Giggling.
As much as I’d like to leave this party and crawl back into bed and watch The Lake House again, I know she’ll read me the riot act, so I roam through the cute house a few of her classmates rent and find a reasonably quiet spot by the window overlooking the street.
The leaves have changed colors and fallen onto the lawn. It’s times like this when I find myself wondering what Hollis is up to. If he’s ever at parties or bored to death at one like I am.
The most painful thought is when I wonder if he’s found a girl—one whose family isn’t judgmental and who would accept him as he is.
“You look as thrilled to be here as I am.”
I jerk in surprise at the male voice. When I turn from the window, I discover a guy smiling shyly at me. His hair is a light shade of brown, his mouth holds a hint of a self-deprecating smile, and he has a lean, slightly muscled build.
When I don’t immediately respond, he winces and quickly rushes out with, “I’m sorry to bother you.” He starts backing away.
Something makes me stop him. And it’s not because he’s ridiculously attractive. It’s his dark blue eyes. There’s something in them I feel drawn to.
“No, don’t leave.” I muster up a smile. “You just caught me off guard.”
He hesitates as if he’s unsure whether I’m simply being polite or not. Finally, he relents and takes a seat in the other chair beside me. He leans to offer his hand.
“I’m Grant.”
I accept his hand and give it a brief shake. “I’m Magnolia.”
“Nice to meet you, Magnolia.” His warm smile puts me at ease. It’s different from the more common I just want to get in your pants smile other guys employ.
He turns to gaze out the window, and I follow suit. We sit in oddly comfortable silence for a long moment before he finally speaks.
His voice is low, hushed, and sympathetic. “I have to admit that when I saw you sittin’ here, I felt compelled to come over.”
I turn to look at him warily, wondering if I read him wrong and this is fixing to be some awful pickup line.
“I recognize the look.” His smile has now vanished, and in its place is a look of understanding. “You…lost someone who meant a lot to you?”
My breath lodges in my throat and I can only manage to nod.
He turns his gaze back to the window. “I had that same look for the longest time,” he murmurs softly.
“How’d you get rid of it?”