Chasing Spring(63)

“It’s the middle that counts,” he affirmed, stepping forward and wrapping me in a hug.

My cheek hit his chest and I closed my eyes, gripping the back of his shirt so he couldn’t leave. I inhaled the scent of him and tried to memorize how warm it felt to stand there in his arms. I wanted to cling to him forever, to beg him to be my hero, but my lips wouldn’t move. I was paralyzed by the end of us.

“I have to go make lunch for my dad, but I left something on your bed that I think you should look at. It doesn’t have to be today, but you need to look at it soon,” he said.

I nodded and he stepped away like he was ripping off a bandaid. In one step, he stripped me of his warmth and from that moment forward, we weren’t Chase and Lilah. We were Chase and Lilah.

I stood on the porch as he headed for his truck. The air swirled with remnants of his body wash and I told myself he’d come back and fight for us. I told myself we weren’t over, but he disappeared around the corner of the house and a few minutes later I heard his truck rumble out of the driveway. I thought I’d crack, and maybe I did, but I still dropped that basket of vegetables on the porch and bolted upstairs.

I needed to know what he’d left me.





Chapter Fifty-Eight


Chase



A small part of me feared Lilah would never come back to me, but I didn’t have a choice. She needed space, and I was giving her that. I had to let her go with the hope that one day she’d come to realize that for her, I was home. We'd break out of Blackwater and start fresh somewhere without bad memories weighing us down.

I gave her space and I survived each day the same way a soldier survives war: keeping my head down and clinging to better times. As I changed my dad's bandages, I thought of Lilah in her garden. As I cooked my dad dinner, I daydreamed of sleeping with her out in the abandoned field. As I drove him to and from his hospital appointments, I resisted the urge to drive down her street to check if she was home.

“Do you want to stop at the store on the way home?” I asked as I helped him into my truck after the doctor had casted his arm. They'd had to wait for the swelling to go down before doing so.

“Nah, not today,” he said with a groan as he adjusted in his seat.

My brows shot up in surprise. My father hadn't had a sip to drink since the day of the accident almost two weeks earlier. He was on some pretty strong medications and the doctors had warned him about mixing alcohol with them. To make it easier on him, I'd tossed all the alcohol that was in the house, but he’d taken his last round of pain pills the night before. If he wanted to, he could go right back to the bottle.

“How about we run through DQ and get a Blizzard?” he asked.

I couldn't remember the last time my dad and I had done something as simple as drive through a fast food place. I nodded and headed for the DQ just down the road. We each ordered an Oreo Blizzard and ate them while sitting in the DQ parking lot, with birds chirping and light filtering in through the back window of the truck.

It was the best afternoon I'd had with my dad in two years.





Chapter Fifty-Nine


Lilah





Chase had set an old gardening book on the edge of my bed. Its pages were yellow-tinted and the binding was torn. I sat down on top of my comforter and pulled it closer so I could inspect the front cover. It claimed to be an encyclopedia of plants that could grow well in Texas.

I gently tugged open the front cover and froze when I saw my mom's scribbled handwriting right next to mine. We’d each signed our names.

This book belongs to:

Elaine and Lilah Calloway

My letters were nearly impossible to read, but I could make out the “Lil” in Lilah. I ran my hand over the old ink and then turned to the next page. “Fruit Trees” was printed in bold across the top and beneath that my mother had scribbled a few notes. I oriented the book and held it up just below my face so I could read her writing better. The light from my window poured over the page, illuminating a forgotten piece of my past.

This morning I asked Lilah what type of fruit trees she'd like to grow. She listed grapes, oranges, and bananas—probably because they were still on her mind after breakfast. I explained that grapes grow on vines and that banana trees take up a lot of space. Then she said she'd rather do raspberries anyway, so we're going to try raspberries this year. I doubt Lilah will let them ripen long enough before she picks them. Raspberries are her favorite right now.

I didn't realize I was crying until a tear traced down my cheek and fell onto the page. The fat drop of water sat directly next to her writing and I simultaneously wiped it away with one hand and reached with the other hand to block another tear from ruining her penmanship.

I’d had no clue the book even existed. I realized it must have been hidden in those boxes of her old things—things I had no interest in looking through, but Chase had. He’d found something I never would have.

That first page was as far as I got that day, but it was the start of a change. When I closed the cover and took a deep breath, I could almost remember scribbling my name alongside hers.





Chapter Sixty


Chase





“I can't believe Trent got kicked out for the rest of the year,” Brian said, letting his tray slam onto the lunch table hard enough to tip over my bottle of water.