Tumble (Dogwood Lane, #1)(75)

“I get that. And you deserve that job. But if anything in the world made me smile like you do when you talk about Tennessee, I’d never leave it.”

I lean forward and look at her earnestly. “But this is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. To be at the helm of something big. I’ve waited my whole life for this moment.”

“You don’t think I understand that?” She arches a brow. “I kill myself for the same thing you do. I bust balls every day so I can feel like my life means something. But you know what?”

“What?”

“I don’t have anything else.” The light in her eyes dims as she glances down at her cup. “I don’t have a Tennessee. I don’t have a mom who bakes pies or a Dane who adores me. Or a Mia, but I’m kind of happy about that.” She makes a face. “But if I did have them, I’d walk away from all this.”

My throat squeezes shut as I think of all the things she’s just said. There’s a pull on my heart I almost can’t bear.

“You have waited your whole life for this,” Grace says, standing. It takes a second to get her balance on her two-inch heels. “But which moment do you mean?” She grabs her purse and coffee and kisses my cheek. “Call me later. I’m late for a meeting.”

I watch my best friend exit the café and hail a cab. I won’t see her again until the weekend because there won’t be time. There never is here.

I get to my sneaker-clad feet, happy not to be wearing heels today, and take my phone out of my pocket. A picture of Dane, Mia, and me at Mucker’s is my screen saver, and as much as it kills my heart to look at it, I can’t change it. It’s my last thread to a few days of my life that will always feel like some of the best.

Before I tuck my phone back in my purse, it lights up. I don’t know the number, just that the area code is Tennessee. With bated breath I answer. “Hello?”

“I heard ya left.” Penn’s voice glides through the line. “Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“You kind of piss me off with this shit.” He tries to say it like he’s joking, but the grit on the back end proves he’s not. Not entirely, anyway.

“Penn, I’m sorry. It was a last-minute decision, and I didn’t have time to make the rounds.”

“Yeah, I know. You never have time for us peons down here in the sticks.”

My heart splinters. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Maybe not. I mean, I know you like me even if you don’t like the rest of them. Can’t say I blame you,” he jokes.

“I will come back and see you. Maybe for Thanksgiving? We could rent out Mucker’s and have our own holiday. All of us.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” He sighs. “I have a lot of shit to do today. But I thought I’d call you and make sure you had my number. Don’t take it personally, though. I always make sure women have my number.”

My eyes water as I laugh at his very Penn-like way of being nice. A woman with a bag as big as a truck bumps me, and I don’t even care. I don’t even look at her. I just stare at the dirty window in front of the coffee shop and wish it were the Dogwood Café.

“I’ll call. I promise.” I sniffle.

“Do that. Not too much, though. That might be weird. But if you need something, give me a holler. I’d like to know you’re alive every now and then.”

“Okay.”

“Good. Now I gotta go because this guy I work for is a complete fucking asshole today, and he left Matt with a list of shit for me to do, and I have to figure out how to get out of it.”

Laughing, I grab a napkin off a table and dab at my eyes. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will. You too.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead. Somehow, it feels like my connection to anything that makes me smile is also terminated.





CHAPTER THIRTY

DANE

It’s a hand-wash-the-dishes kind of night.

Rinsing the last few cups and setting them on a towel, I look out the window. It’s a beautiful summer evening. Although the sun isn’t quite set yet, there are lightning bugs going to town in the field outside. Neely would love it.

I flip off the water, irritated with myself, and grab a towel to dry my hands. All day, I’ve tried to retrain myself to not think of her. To not associate things with her. To not let my mind wander to a place where she exists.

There’s a chance I’ll have to buy a new truck. And burn most of my clothes. And sell the house.

Shaking my head at my own stupidity, I toss the towel back on the counter.

It hurts worse this time. Before, when she left, I was already prepared for it. She was leaving for school even before the whole Katie mess, and we had a rough plan for us to stay connected while she was gone. The key was this: She was coming home. That, and she wasn’t leaving me specifically.

Both keys are lost now. She’s not coming back, and it feels like a total rejection of a life I could’ve offered her, a life I live and wanted her to share with me. But that was my mistake. I hoped too much and I knew better.

Mia’s feet hit the floor above me. I listen to her rummage around the bathroom. Each moment that goes by tightens the knot a little harder in my stomach. She’s asked for Neely a few times tonight, and I wouldn’t humor Haley by listening to how many times she asked for her today. I have to tell her the truth, some version of the truth, and I don’t know how to do that.