Miscalculation on my part.
I was speaking to a few people, making some great connections that will undoubtedly benefit BCF down the line when I felt those little hairs on the back of my neck rise. I could feel her sapphire eyes before I had even turned around to confirm it. She’d stood there staring as though she’d seen a ghost and yeah I bet she felt like she had. She assumed she’d left me in her dust in Palmetto Grove, that she’d never be confronted with my face again. Ha! She thought wrong. I’ll admit, while I wasn’t happy to be reminded of the woman that ripped my heart out no fewer than three times, it was worth it to see her face pale and her eyes go wide.
I’d wanted to look her squarely in the eyes to prove to her and maybe more importantly to myself that I was no longer under her spell, that I was moving on. But when I approached her something struck me as being off. Now, I am well aware that more than once I have guessed incorrectly when it came to all things Raegan Potter but in my bones, I knew she was not the woman I had a two week rendezvous with almost a year prior. To her credit, she didn’t show an ounce of jealousy over Christine, which I had expected and even hoped for but when the moment came—nada! What I had not expected was the sight of a slightly thinner, sadder looking Rae, a more reserved Rae. That took me by surprise. Where had the frost queen gone?
My mind began running away with me almost immediately and it only spun more and more out of control as the night went on. Thus, the dumbass move of texting her late that night. She hadn’t answered, but the text said it was delivered and read. She just chose to ignore me.
Well, that was more like it.
Right back to scraping me off like the wad of bubblegum under her stilettos. I tried to convince myself that was the evidence I was looking for that proved Rae was just surprised by seeing me but that she most definitely was the same unapologetic, man-eater I asked to marry me at Cattail Parish Fair. Heartless, that woman.
“So why in fuck am I going to her momma’s house?” I growl under my breath as I take my time driving across town. By the time I pull up to the house and get out of my truck, Rae’s momma has already come outside on the porch with two glasses of what looks like iced tea. I sigh heavily and trudge across the grass and up the steps. I flop heavily down in one of the large wicker chairs, taking the tea Pam holds out toward me.
“Well, it took you long enough,” Rae’s momma smiles, but it looks pretty damn depressing like the doctor that has to break the bad news. I just stare at her and shake my head not sure I want at all to know where this is headed but knowing I’m along for the ride, regardless.
I curl my fingers around my beer and take a long pull trying to savor the taste of it on my tongue but everything tastes like a wad of cotton balls.
“So let me get this straight,” Chick says shaking his head with his brows scrunch up. “Her momma only told you that Rae has been through some big terrible mystery event and that’s what’s made her the way she is but didn’t spill the details?”
“Basically. Said it wasn’t her story to tell. Said she had hoped that Rae would talk to me about it one day so we could at least be friends,” I mimic Pam’s voice on the last part, making Chick chuckle.
“Do you think anyone else knows?”
“Assuming I believe what she said? Maybe. I don’t know and I’m leaning toward not caring.” I shrug. “I’m about bone tired of chasing after Rae, waiting on Rae, trying to understand Rae. If she had some big secret she felt was worth tellin’ me, she would have done it.”
“What’re you gonna do now?”
“Nothin’. Going to keep moving on with my life, leaving everything pertaining to Raegan in my past where it clearly belongs,” I say gripping the neck of my beer bottle a little too hard.
“If you say so,” Chick says with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Asshole.
Chapter 31
Raegan
“Hey Momma,” I greet with my cellphone pinned between my shoulder and cheek while holding a piping hot cup of coffee in one hand and holding my wallet in the other.
“Hey sweetheart. You busy?”
“Not at all,” I lie shuffling my way through the busy coffee shop. “What are you and Daddy up to?”
“Not a lot, really. Audrey and me have been elbow deep in baby shower decorations for Ellie. Lord have mercy that girl has a guest list like you can’t read about,” she laughs.
“That many, huh?” I laugh.
“More!” she scoffs. “This co-ed baby shower thing is for the birds. Whatever happened to this sort of thing being just for a few women? Now it means inviting the whole neighborhood,” she laughs, but it comes out as part groan. Her reminding me it’s a co-ed party only leads me to assume that Sy will be there, something I both look forward to and shrink from.
I still can’t believe Ellie is having a baby, my first niece or nephew. I begged her to let me know the gender in advance but she refused, adamant that she and Doug want it to be a total surprise. I plan to be there for the birth as long as things go according to plan and I already have my “I’m The Aunt” T-shirt that I’ve already washed and pressed and hung in my closet, ready to wear. Ellie’s baby has given me something exciting to look forward to, something to be hopeful for. Her child is a fresh start for me, a new relationship to cultivate, a new person to love to pieces and I plan to do just that. I may not have a husband or a baby on the way like Ellie does but I can be stupid-happy for her and share that excitement all the same.
“But on that topic, did you ever decide if you are for sure going to be able to come down or you wanna just wait until the big day?” Her voice is gentle and soothing in that way that way that only mom’s can accomplish.
“I’ll be there for both,” I sigh knowing that my therapist was right when she made the case for me returning home for the baby shower. Test the waters, focus on how excited you are to be an aunt, she’d said. Sink or swim I suppose. This would be so much easier if I wasn’t painfully alone. My phone buzzes against my cheek and I take a peek at it. Bethany. I smile as a new idea coalesces. Doing a U-turn to go right back into the coffee shop I decide to ask Bethany for a favor. She left Cline’s campaign to join me on Sweeney’s. What are the odds she’d shoot me down now? “I’ll text you my itinerary, Momma.” I smirk.
“Good morning Bethany,” I greet as I deposit the paper cup of coffee on her desk. Bethany’s eyes bug out and she turns her head slightly, her wary eyes cut my direction the doubt on her face is easy to spot.
“My god, it’s not poison Bethany. Coffee, that’s all.”
“Am I fired?” she wheezes.
“What? No!”
“Is this a parting gift thing? Why else would you give me coffee? You never give me anything,” she rattles on, her voice raising a full octave.
“Would you calm down, please,” I snap to get her attention. “I am just trying—to be… nicer to people around me.” I shrug. “That and I was hoping I could ask a favor of you,” I say a little shyly.
“Oh.” Bethany slides her coffee closer to her and sniffs it.