Page 25 of Endless Southern Love

“I know, but I can’t help but think it’s what Lemon’s feeling. I don’t know. I think back to Meet Your Teacher Night and she was cold. I expect her to treat me like that, but not Goldie. Not one of her students.”

“Lemon was hurt by . . .” She motions toward me and the empty space next to me. “But it’s been years, Wade. Surely, she’s over it.”

I finish my coffee just in time for Emma to come over with a fresh cup. I thank her and take a sip, not caring if it’s scalding. I need the burn to keep me focused.

“Hear me out,” I say. “I move back as soon as I graduate, but she doesn’t. She stays in North Carolina and gets her masters, which was never the plan. Plans change, I get it. But when she does come back, she does everything she can to avoid me. Lemon never goes down to River’s Edge, you never see her in here. I don’t deal with her when it comes to the landscaping needs at the elementary school. She isn’t here during the summer when Goldie is. But now . . .” I pause and shake my head. “Now she has to see me because of Goldie. She can’t avoid me, and she can’t avoid Goldie, no matter how hard she tries.”

“Sweetie, this doesn’t equate jealousy.”

“No, but if Goldie looked like me and not Ana, I don’t think we’d be sitting here having this conversation. Goldie is a spitting image of Ana except she has my hair color. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to deduce my daughter looks like her mother if you’ve just met her.”

“True.” Mom takes a drink of her coffee. “But jealousy?”

“Lemon and I had plans, Mom. Buy a house, get married, and have kids. Then things happened. Not in that order and not with her. If Ana hadn’t gotten pregnant, I firmly believe Lemon and I would be married by now, raising our own family.”

It’s as if a lightbulb went off for my mom. She nods. “I can see it now.”

“So you can see it’s strange?”

Mom’s shoulder lifts. “Maybe she’s harboring feelings for you. Like you are for her.”

I scoff, but Mom isn’t wrong. “When I saw her earlier, she was wearing my old ball cap. She had taken it to school with her. I hadn’t thought about that hat in a long time, and then I saw it on her today and I don’t know.”

“You miss her?”

Shaking my head, I pick up my mug and take another sip. “I miss the old Lemon. I don’t know this one well enough to know if the girl I fell in love with all those years ago is still in there or not.”

“Maybe you should find out.”

A loud cackle escapes my mouth. “Nah, I value my life way too much to talk to her. Besides, if my suspicions are correct and she’s jealous of Goldie, then what? My daughter isn’t going anywhere, and I’d never be with someone who couldn’t accept my daughter. Not to mention, Ana’s in my life and I’m not sure Lemon would be able to deal with that.”

My mom reaches across the table and places her hand on mine. “I said talk to her, Wade. I didn’t say invite her into your life and rekindle things. Neither of you ever got any closure from the breakup. Maybe it’s time.”

“Closure?”

“Yeah, closure. Call her or go see her. Hash things out and move on. Never know, it might help the both of you, and in turn help Lemon see Goldie differently.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” I suppose it’s the least I can do.

We finish our coffee, leave enough money to cover the bill plus tip, and head in our separate directions for the day.

ten

lemon

Standing in front of my closet, holding the hat that once belonged to Wade, I contemplate putting it back in the box and burying it deep in my closet or throwing it and the contents of the box away. Instead, I take the box down from my shelf, carry it over to my bed and lift the lid.

Years of memories rush out in a whoosh. I pick up the faded movie stub ticket from our first official date. Behind it, the folded note which Wade wrote asking me to be his girlfriend. I tip the box over and let the contents spread over my comforter. Each item I pick up brings a bout of tears that I fight to keep at bay. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve cried enough over this man.

I pick up the dried roses from our junior prom, some of their petals fall off, and bring the flowers to my nose. A pang of want courses through me, wishing they still smelled. Wade told me he ordered the corsage himself, but I always wondered if his mom had done it for him. Next to it is the boutonniere he wore on his tuxedo for our senior prom. And there’s the first corsage he ever bought me for our cotillion ball. I don’t know why I kept them.

I don’t know why I still keep them.

But I do.

Along with numerous notes that I have zero intention of reading, there are concert tickets, more movie stubs, and a lot of photos. I don’t want to look at those either because the memories hurt.

My eye catches a photo, and I can’t help but reach for it. We’re probably eighteen and have either graduated from high school or are about to. I flip it over for a date but don’t see one. Looking back at the image, we’re sitting in his dad’s chair and Wade’s wearing the infamous hat. He’s looking at me while I’m smiling for the camera.

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