I Stand Before You (Judge Me Not #2)(40)

“It was good…for a while. And then, not so much.”

Chase doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t press. It’s obviously a touchy subject. It’s tense for a few beats, but then Chase asks me if I was also born here in Harmony Creek.

The tension lifts, I pilfer a few more fries, and breathe a sigh of relief. “No, I was born in Columbus. We lived there for a while, and then we moved out here.”

“How old were you when your family moved here?” Chase asks, sliding his plate closer so I no longer have to reach.

I grab another fry, dip it in ketchup. “We moved here when I was ten,” I reply between bites.

“That explains why I never met you when I was a kid,” he says, like this is something he’s been thinking about, considering. “We moved out to Vegas when I was eight. How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

Chase picks up one of his fries. “That’s what I thought. You’re a year younger.” He takes a bite. “You would’ve still been in Columbus when we left Ohio.”

“Where in town did you live right before you moved out west?” I ask. “Out near your grandmother’s house?”

There are only two fries left and Chase indicates I should eat them. I swirl one through the ketchup. Chase watches my movement for a few seconds, then answers. “No, we lived south of Market.”

“No way!” I exclaim, pointing my fry at him before biting into it. “That’s where we lived too,” I add.

The roads we once lived on—we soon discover—were only a block apart. How differently my life may have turned out if Chase had never left Harmony Creek back when he was a boy. Perhaps my first boyfriend would have been him instead of Doug Wilson. How great would that have been? The whole course of history could have been altered, and maybe Sarah would still be alive today. Yeah, maybe… If only and what if, they don’t count for much in retrospect.

Chase notices that I’ve gotten quiet, and I must look as distraught as I feel, because he asks in a very worried tone, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I quickly compose myself. If there’s one thing I’m a pro at, it’s pulling my shit together and deflecting other people’s concerns.

With an ease I don’t feel inside, I try to make a joke. “No, it’s nothing. Just, I mean, south of Market…to where I live now.” I gesture to the window, in the direction of the west side of town. “Pretty pathetic, huh? It’s quite a drastic change, even I have to admit.”

The waitress comes to the table—at long last—and finally refills our waters. Chase continues to ignore her. She huffs, loudly, as she leaves. I take a drink. Chase’s blues never leave me. “What?” I say, setting down my glass.

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Kay, it’s none of my business, I know. But I thought about it a lot last night, and I still can’t wrap my mind around the idea of you living down there. I don’t want to make you angry, but I have to say—one more time—I think you should seriously consider moving.”

He’s right, but I try to play it down. “I’ll be fine, Chase. I’ve lived there for a year now, and I’ve never had a single problem.”

I don’t share that I fear the junkies and their leering stares; I don’t tell him the area has gotten so downtrodden that the only grocery store closed its doors. No, I say none of those things. Even so, I’m sure Chase is well aware.

He taps his long fingers on the table. “Still, I don’t like it.” He sighs. “Are you sure there’s no way I can talk you into renting the place above my garage?”

“Chase…” I begin, “I would, it’s a great place and I’d love to live there. But, I…just…can’t.”

He shrugs one shoulder, like he’s done trying. For now. He probably thinks I’m worried about how it will look if I move onto his property, but it has nothing to do with that. I just don’t want Chase taking less money for my sake, it’s just not right. And I would never ask him to wait until the fall to rent his place. He probably needs the money now. I just have to forget about his amazing apartment and stick with my original plan. I’ll save money this summer and find a new apartment in the fall. If his place happens to be—by some miracle—still available, well, then maybe.

We drop the apartment conversation and talk returns to family. Chase asks me some questions, and I tell him some things about my early life.

He asks what it was like growing up in Columbus. “Not much different than living here in Harmony Creek, just a little bigger,” I reply.

I don’t say much about my parents. And I definitely don’t touch on the shell of a relationship we currently have—nonexistent with my mother, not much better with my dad. I also only say a few words about Sarah. Like, I mention that I once had a little sister, but she passed away.

I don’t need to say more. When her name passes my lips I see right away—from his expression of sadness and pity—that Chase already knows the story, at least the story everyone assumes to be true. I can’t say I’m surprised. Gossip is like a pastime here in Harmony Creek. That’s how I know so many things about Chase, things he’d never dream I knew. Or maybe he would. He knows this town as well as me.

Chase must sense that I’m uncomfortable, he smoothly steers the conversation back to his own early years. He becomes more open, to a point. It sounds like he once had a great life in Nevada, until his father died. He doesn’t say much about his dad dying—just that he did—but it becomes clear that was the point where many of Chase’s troubles began.