“I’d like that.”
Once we’re outside, she gives me a big hug again, this one long and tight, the kind that’s more of an embrace than anything else, before heading back across the street.
I still kept in touch with Monica because she’s been my person since we were little, but I never thought about all the other friends I had. People I did care for at the time. Seeing Lindsey again has brought back fun memories. Memories I thought were lame at the time, but they molded me to who I am today.
I always thought Dixon was boring with nothing to do, but maybe I was just looking at it wrong. Thoughts flood of the times when we went to the creek and laughed until our sides hurt, or drove down First Street, blasting our radios so loud that the store owners called our parents instead of the police. That’s stuff that only happens in a small town. I hated it back then, but now that I’ve seen the other side, I guess I can see just how cool that can be.
The fact that Lindsey remembered my favorite cookie after all this time warms my soul as well. That’s the kind of thing I’ve missed while living in New York or even constantly being in new locations.
I used to go into any shop in town, and they’d know exactly who I was. I didn’t have to show ID at the bank, and I could even charge things to my parents’ account at places whenever I wanted. There’s a Mexican restaurant in town that I used to pull up to, and by the time I got to the counter, they would have my order made.
You don’t get that kind of treatment in New York. Yeah, I’ve made acquaintances with a few of the people who work at places I frequent, but it’s different. Here, it’s not just that you shop at their store; they also know you because they went to high school with your parents or you played softball with their daughter.
That’s the difference between a small town and a major city. The people. I thought that’s what I hated about this place—everyone knowing everyone—but now, I see just how unique that is, and I can’t lie, I kind of miss it.
On my walk back to the garage, my phone rings, displaying Monica’s name across the screen. I swipe it on and put it on speakerphone. “Hey, Monica. How’s Nicholas?”
“He’s okay, still under the weather, but that’s not why I called. I thought you would call me on your way to the airport. You know I’m dying to know what happened last night.”
I try to fake ignorance. “What happened with what?”
“Don’t lie to me. I might be in San Francisco, but don’t think for a second that news hasn’t spread, and I’ve already been told you’re back in Dixon. I’m guessing Zack brought you there. Now, spill it.”
I stop at a street corner, waiting for a tractor to drive by. “It’s not what you think. I mean, nothing really happened. I have a ruptured eardrum and can’t fly for a few days, so he brought me here because he has to help his dad.”
Her breath hitches. “Is that serious?”
“Nah, it can happen with flying as much as I do.”
“Okay, good. Now, what do you mean that nothing really happened?”
Roger’s garage comes into view where I see Zack working under a car. All these memories are getting to be too much. I’ve enjoyed my life thus far. I’m happy. I don’t want them to bring me back to a place I put behind me years ago.
“We just talked, and then he took care of me when my ear started bleeding. That’s all.”
She huffs into the phone. “You guys suck.”
Images of him sucking on my clit while I was splayed out on his desk make my core clench. I close my eyes to savor the memory that I’m definitely not ready to share yet. I need to figure out how I feel before I take in what others think.
“I have to go. I just got Bud’s burgers for us and his dad.”
“Yum! I’m jealous. Well, keep me posted, and know I’m here, cleaning up puke from a sick kid and dying for some juicy news.”
I shake my head. “Don’t hold your breath. We burned that bridge years ago.”
“Uh-huh. Whatever you say. I’ll be waiting.”
“Well, I still have to see his mother tonight, so you might be getting what you wished for after all.”
“Oh damn, this is better than one of those soap operas,” she responds, and I have to laugh.
“You know, you’re the second person who’s said that.”
9
Jolene
After lunch, I hang out in the garage with Zack while Roger goes back to the house to get his rest. If Zack wasn’t so busy, looking over the invoices for the week and checking the work of the employees, I’d think he was purposefully being distant.
In order to stay out of his way, I busy myself by taking another walk around Dixon while listening to my Lizzo station on Pandora. The music is far too contemporary for this sleepy, country town. It feels like such a paradox. Very much how I feel myself, strolling the very streets I rode my bike on long ago.
I meet Zack at the garage in time for closing and then hop into his truck to leave.
As we pull into his parents’ driveway, nerves swarm in my belly. I’ve had a decent day, getting used to being back in Dixon, despite Kelly’s attitude. Talking to his dad was great, and Lindsey was welcoming, but seeing Zack’s mom is going to be a completely different story.
Zack exits the truck. I sit here for an extra second, staring up at the one-story home. It looks the same with white siding and cornflower-blue trim. There’s a hanging basket with pink flowers on each side, and a wooden sign bolted to the home that says The Hunts.
Pull up your big-girl panties and get in there.
I do as I told myself and hop out of the truck.
The summer breeze rolls my hair off my face as the heavy scent of potpourri and candles greet me at the door. The déjà vu of it all warms my heart and scares me at the same time. If nothing’s changed, I’m sure her hatred of me is still the same.
Zack opens the door and holds it, so I go in first.
“Mom, we’re home,” Zack calls once he closes the door behind me.
The floral wallpaper in the foyer still bears the many photos of Zack growing up. Each of his graduation pictures from kindergarten through high school are on display.
I look down at the small table and notice a photo that was once there has been replaced.
Looks like some things have changed.
His mother, Sandy, comes from around the corner in the kitchen with a big smile on her face. When she sees me, the smile falls.
Zack walks up to his mom, places his hands on her arms, and kisses her cheeks. “Smells delicious! I’ve been dying for your home-cooking all day.”
She takes the rag in her hand and hits him in the side. “Nice try, buttering up your mama. Daddy already told me you had a burger from Bud’s a few hours ago.”
When he steps away, she goes back to staring at me with an expression of disdain. “All right, Jo Davies. It’s been ten years and a whole lot of heartache. Anything you want to say before you step further into this house?”
My eyes widen as I look over at Zack. He told me it would be fine. Not the Spanish Inquisition.
If I thought this day in Dixon was a trip down memory lane, Sandy Hunt just turned it up a notch. She’s looking at me like I’m still the barely eighteen-year-old girl who skipped town. I’m a twenty-eight-year-old woman with a career, rent, and a ton of experience traveling the world.