I left my mom and this town, and they probably hate me for it.
Okay, let’s not think like that right now.
Dean walks over to me, wrapping his thick, burly arms around me, his protruding gut also slamming against me, tenderly hugging me close.
I will not cry. I will not cry.
I can still feel Caiden’s hand at my back, but when I’m released and walking of my own accord to the mic, his touch is gone. I’m on my own.
From only five feet above, I realize that the crowd really is the whole town. I try to smile, but I can’t tell if I’m succeeding.
Everyone is smiling back at me, at least. This gives me the boost I need.
I clear my throat as I lift my hand up to the mic, as if to test if it’s real and tangible.
Okay, yup. It’s real. This is not a dream.
“Hello, everyone. It’s been a while, huh?”
A tiny hum of giggles swiftly moves through the crowd, and it’s more of that comforting boost I need.
“I’m Hailey Elwood, I’m not so prepared for this, and ironically enough, I feel like that rings true for this situation and losing my mom.” I lick my lips, finding my words more overwhelmingly honest than I intend, but it feels right, so I run with it. “A lot of you might know that I up and disappeared about five years ago, and it wasn’t because I was running away, but instead pursuing a dream I had always wanted. If you knew my mom, she was always a curious sort of creature, and I totally credit her with my own mental wanderings. That being said, she may not have understood my dream, but she could see it was what I wanted, and without understanding it, she pushed me to go for it. For her, my dream was like her wanting to open the diner with my dad all those years ago. She saw it as happiness, as passion, as something I needed to do as a person. And I think anyone who knew my mom knew that she was a person of passion. You could see it in the way she ran the diner and interacted with each and every one of you. Leaving was hard, for many reasons, but to come back and see that she was so loved is incredible. And I know my mom would hate it if I got all mushy, but I thank all of you each and every day for being here and loving her as much as you did in person, because it was so hard to do that being so far away. She was in good hands, and I’ll forever be grateful. We will all miss my mom. There’s no doubt there, but to know that she leaves such a legacy of smiling faces is enough for me to think she left happy. Thank you.”
Applause. Tears. Hoots. Hollers. I hear it all.
I smile. I cry. I think I even hear a “We missed you, Hailey” somewhere in the crowd.
I pull in a deep breath, wiping the corners of my eyes, getting a grip, thinking this wasn’t bad at all. I feel this odd sense of relief embracing my mother’s memory so openly. My heart feels raw, but the ache is sweet.
I turn around, and it shocks me when I walk into a rock hard Caiden, whose arms come around me in one swift move.
Whispers soon gather in the crowd, but I can’t stop my deep inhale with my nose pressed against his chest, basking in the comforting squeeze. He’s always made me feel safe. It’s the perfect BAND-AID to my wide-open heart, and the fact it isn’t stinging is a strange thing to wrap my head around.
My mind and body are so fickle when it comes to Caiden. Hot or cold, sweet or sour, regardless, it always seems perfect for whatever moment we share, and I wonder if that will ever go away.
When he releases me, my mind is fuzzy with feels, but soon clears as I rush off the stage, needing distance.
Reality is hard to define nowadays.
I rush back to the table, and like caring parents, Brandon and CeeCee reach out, pulling me between them, both their arms thrown over my shoulders. I have a picture of this exact thing when we were kids, and I think back on when life was simpler as I rest my cheek on CeeCee’s shoulder, taking a deep breath in unison with Brandon’s gentle, cajoling squeeze.
Caiden walks up to the microphone, and the whispers haven’t ceased. I wonder what this town makes of me being back. We were high school sweethearts, but I pray that isn’t front-page news for this place anymore.
Caiden taps the mic as if checking it’s working, even though he knows it is. He towers over it, needing to lean down to speak. He tugs on his bottom lip first before gruffly starting with, “Hey folks. It’s a beautiful night for a beautiful soul, right?”
I squint as I watch him careen the crowd’s emotions into full-fledged applause. My eyes examine his thick stature, and I think, Where has the time gone? And Why does he fill out that shirt so well?
“It’s no secret that Martha was like a mom to me. When I was in elementary school and I had the sniffles, she made sure I had cup of soup to go for lunch, and even in the most recent years she’d give me hell about taking care of myself and still deliver soup to me at the station. She had too good a heart, and she cared about people more than I could ever understand. She talked me through my lows…” Caiden’s eyes flicker in my direction for the first time and my gut plummets. “… but she was also always the first person to congratulate me on the highs. I’m not only losing a close friend, I’m losing my family and a piece of me with her. She’ll be missed, and like Hailey said, her legacy lives on in all of us, and I’m sure we’ll never forget her, especially with her pie becoming practically a point of celebration in this town.” Solemn, understanding chuckles and giggles erupt from the crowd. “Thanks for showing up this evening. If I know Martha, she’d probably be smacking me upside the head by now, telling me you’re all here to dance and not to cry. So, let’s start up that band again.”
More laughter and cheers erupt as the band starts up on command and begins crooning to the crowd with upbeat guitar riffs to a country-rock song that everyone seems to know. They dance in her honor, and I am in awe. Damn him.
Brandon and CeeCee lift their already linked arms over my head. CeeCee pretends to not want to dance, and it’s adorable that it only takes Brandon’s smile and a tug to get her following him.
My insides feel like goo as I watch nearly everyone get up from their tables and dance, and I want to believe it’s my mom’s memory that compels them to have a good time.
Caiden emerges from the crowd, but his eyes shoot over my shoulder and I realize that he’s trying to tell me he can’t come near me… or won’t.
I force a smile through pursed lips even though my cheeks feel like the surface of the sun. I stick both of my thumbs up in understanding and in appreciation of the speech he made about Mom.