Page 83 of Something Like Sunflowers

She laughs, tugging me down the aisles, but her tone evens when she turns to me, and we stop mid-aisle. “My dad doesn’t have long, you know.” She twists the tie of her hoodie in her free hand, a nervous habit a lot like my hair tie. But she’s done this little thing for as long as I remember.

“I’m sorry. About your dad,” I tell her, veering us to chat more privately by the boots and apparel. “I know what it feels like to lose your whole world, Shay. And I’m sorry I haven’t been here while you’ve been dealing with losing yours. I have not been the best friend I should be.”

“Devyn, stop.”

But I won’t. I’m not going to let her give me an easy out on this one. She always will because Shana is just that brand of beauty. But it’s not fair, because I’m not off the hook…not in my own heart, at least.

“No.” I give her a pointed stare. “I’ve been a selfish bitch these last few years. I hated my past. My scars. Shay, I hated myself. I tried to be a check in all the boxes on everyone else’s lists for so long that I became a person so unrecognizable to myself that I just…I hated her. And she wasn’t in a place to be someone for anyone then.”

“I know, Devyn,” Shana says softly. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” She smiles, nudging me with her elbow. “You never let anyone get a word in, ya know?” We laugh, resuming our walking again when Shana turns to me, a curious glint in her eyes.

“I won’t be losing my whole world,” she says, “when he dies.”

She says the last word with such finality and confirmation that it haunts me. The resignation in her tone. That he’s dying, matter of fact. Just like that.

And I know she has to do that because he is dying, but it’s so much to handle. The way she’s been doing it with such grace since is astounding.

To have such confidence in the future, even when the present seems clouded.

“I used to be scared,” she says, plucking a Frisbee from an end-cap. “Not knowing what would come next can be crippling, mentally, so to speak.” She looks up, and I nod. It can be. “When he dies, I will truly be alone out here in the world. Not an orphan, right? Because those are kids. Just…something like it. But this last year, the town has poured their love around me. Hunter, Lemon, Jeremy…you…among others.”

She presses her lips together in a smile that reaches all the way to her eyes and pulls me into a hug. She squeezes so tight we both might burst. It’s exactly how it should be.

“I’ve missed you, bestie. You are all my world. My life is just beginning. And yeah, I might be alone once he’s gone. But I’m alone with the best group of friends I could ever ask for.”

She pulls away, still grinning. “That’s what I’ve been trying to show you. Life might get crazy around here, but the people haven’t changed since you left. And when it comes down to it, a more loyal group of people doesn’t exist, Dev.” She brushes her hair behind her ear and links arms with me. “We all want you to stay. Even after the fair, I mean.”

I’m gut punched, and simultaneously elated, loved, accepted. But more than anything, I feel a deep sense of dread. Not dread for staying, not at all. Dread over the simple idea of leaving. Up until that moment with Ellie in the coop, I hadn’t even thought of it.

It’s been a week since that day. A week of bonding with a man and his daughter, knowing what it is she wants from me. Who and what she wishes I were to her. To her papa. A family who welcomes me in and fills the empty spaces of my heart, all the cracks and crevices, until I’m whole again. And it’s not just the sit-down dinners celebrating a proud little girl’s new racing records, or the perfectly sinful evenings under the skylight when my body isn’t my own.

It isn’t even the familiarity of the roads or the thrill of the pageant and starting something new.

It’s the whole shebang.

It’s home.

“Thanks, Shay,” I say, stifling my emotions before they do something crazy again like show. I exhale quickly and whip my head around, scanning the warehouse.

“Let’s find the old man,” Shana says, bumping hips. I’m glad she understands my cues and knows I’ve had enough feelings for one moment. She also knows how important it is for me to see Abel, whether I leave or stay.

“Rumor has it he can tell you the future, you know?” I grin as Shana giggles, hooking her pinky in mine. She and I started that rumor in sixth grade. Doesn’t stop me from believing it to this very day.

The whole town has a sweet spot for Old Abe, and I am no exception.

“He’ll be happy to see you. He’s rather nostalgic these days.”

“These days? He’s always been like that.”

Lemon snorts behind us, and I feel bad because I honestly forgot she was there. I break away from Shana and open the space between us. Lemon notices and chews her lips briefly before twisting them into a smile and launching forward, linking her arms into Shana’s and mine.

“You’ll see. By the way,” Lemon says, “I know it was you two who started that rumor. When you wanted me to believe the puppy shampoo would make my hair grow longer.” I burst out laughing, and Shana whips her focus to me, concerned, but Lemon just clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes.

“Come on, Shay, it’s totally fine. I don’t hate you guys. Anymore.”

You’d think her calling my best friend by the nickname I created for her would tick me off coming from Lemon, but it doesn’t.

We pass through the aisles, and it’s as if nothing’s changed, yet everything has all at once. Just like with Cowboy’s Paradise, there’s no denying this is Abel’s feed store, but it’s brighter, newer, even sturdier. The drop tile ceiling is freshly re-installed instead of flaking from above and making that tapping noise every time it slings against the vent when the heat kicks on. The floors are painted red and blue to match the lettering on the sign out front. Hell, he’s even got security cameras in the corners.

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