Page 29 of Return To You

Her eyes fleetingly meet my gaze, then narrow back down on her plate where she’s destroying the hotdog bun with her fingers. “The building is for sale, so whoever buys it can break the lease. It’s-it’s-it’ll be fine.”

It doesn’t seem like it’s going to be fine at all. “How can Thalia help?”

She shakes her head slowly. “Um—if or when I have to move elsewhere, I’d probably need some work done.”

I don’t know anything about spas. But I can imagine there’s got to be electrical and plumbing needed, and that’s always costly. And then décor. Paint. Floors. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

She takes a shaky breath that nearly does me in. “Life of a small business owner.” She smiles with her lips sealed tightly to each other, then deepens her inhale. As she exhales, her gaze falls on mine. “It’ll figure itself out. It always does. How about you? How’s your job treating you?”

I blink. “I uh—I wanted to apologize.”

Her eyes widen and she straightens on the bench.

“The other day, at the fair, I was rude to you.”

Her face softens.

I continue. “I was taken aback. I wasn’t prepared to see you again, and it was—it was…” What was it? Surprising? Earth-shattering? “I just wasn’t prepared, and I was a jerk. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” she chuckles. “Same here. I didn’t handle it too well. I’m glad we’re past that, though.”

Past what exactly? “Yeah… About that…”

She looks at me with alarm, stacking her cutlery on her plate. “I should probably check on Dad.” She stands slowly. Deliberately. Not like someone who retreats in haste. More like someone who’s made the conscious decision they’re not going to engage. For whatever reason.

"Any chance you’d want to talk? About what happened back then.”

She lays a thoughtful and deep gaze on me. “We were different people back then. Dwelling on the past doesn’t help. Never does.” She picks up her plate. “Have a nice stay, Ethan,” she adds and until then, until then I was going along with her story, but the way she says my name, Ethan, the way it rolls in her mouth and on her tongue, she way she drags it out a little… nope.

“Let’s have coffee.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

And why not? Friends have coffee together. Ex-lovers? Generally not. What am I to her? “Just two old friends.”

She smiles softly, almost sadly. “Bye, Ethan.”

I knew it.

She swerves back to the porch, climbs the steps, stops to talk to someone, disappears inside the house. We have unresolved matters, and I need to clear them, if only so I can move forward. She said herself we’re different people now, and she’s right.

What does she think of me? Does she think I fled Emerald Creek to avoid facing my responsibilities? Which I did. Is that how she sees me?

Of course she doesn’t see anything else in me than the guy who bailed on everyone when things got tough.

Why would she see anything else? What have I done with my life that means something here? I didn’t try to build a family. I didn’t try to build a business. I didn’t try to build a house. I could have tried all of these things.

I might have succeeded. I might have failed.

Chris, Justin, Grace. They all tried. They succeeded. You could say Grace failed at her marriage. But was it really a failure? At least she tried.

They all built something with their lives. They faced challenges that they overcame. They have something to show for the past ten years.

All I did was run away. And sure, that communication thingy, like Mom says. That holds value for me. Outside of Emerald Creek, with the Air Force, I’m someone. Here? Not much.

Later in the evening, anyone still here is marveling at how beautiful the witching hour is. How the air brims with fragrance and the sounds of the meadow.

But Grace is long gone, and the air feels empty to me.

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