Page 67 of Falling for Autumn Again

I laugh and look over the grown man in his uniform. I went away and everyone at home grew up. It makes me wonder if Mav has grown old. How unfair that someone like Mav is alive and well, while Mr. Green died five years ago, leaving behind his wife and young daughters.

“You look good,” I tell my friend. And he does.

“Yeah. Well, you look like you were about to knock over some mailboxes or something.” Canelo throws his head back and laughs. “Driving that slow, it’s pretty sus, man.”

“Nah. No vandalism tonight. Just—just driving by my old house.”

“Visiting the old man?”

I shake my head. “Nah. Just taking a drive.”

Canelo nods. “I get it. He’s been up to no good since you left.”

“He was never up to any good.” But then, I don’t know whathe means. How does he know what Mav’s been up to? “So, you come by here often, then?”

Canelo’s dark brows raise. “Some. I put him in jail last year for shooting his gun in a residential area. Turns out his old TV broke. Pissed him off, so he took it out back. He just wanted to dispose of it.”

Canelo gives him an excuse—but I can picture a dozen birdhouses built by me being shot to bits for no reason at all.

My insides turn to jelly. I haven’t had to deal with the alcohol and aftermath of Mav Bennett for ten long years. My body doesn’t know what to do with this information. “He shouldn’t be allowed to own a gun.”

“Bah. He’s harmless.”

“He’s not. At least, not when he’s intoxicated, which is how he is most of the time.” I rub my hands together, then shove them into my pockets. The truth is, I can’t really say how Mav is most of the time, not anymore.

“That’s true.” Canelo’s dark eyes lift up to mine and a smile spreads across his lips. “So, you and Autumn, back together?”

“Oh, um.” I run a hand over the back of my neck. “Well, I’m at the farm and—”

“Nice. I always thought you two would make it. It was weird when you didn’t.” He shakes his head. “You know?”

I do know.

I clear my throat and run a hand over the scruff of my chin. “Yeah. Weird.”

“Well, glad it all worked out for you two.” Canelo checks his watch. He’s all grown up now. “Hey, listen, if you want to spy on your dad, maybe do it on foot. For real—I don’t want you to accidentally run over old Mrs. Olson because she’s walking her cat at night and you don’t see her coming.”

“I—I wouldn’t—”

“On foot, okay?” Canelo gives me a serious I’m-in-charge nod. That’s new. Then, my old friend offers me a familiar smile.

“Sure. On foot.”

Canelo slaps my shoulder. “Hey, my number hasn’t changed since high school, if you ever want to hang out. Tell Autumn hello for me. I haven’t seen her since I bought my Christmas tree last year. See you, man.”

“Sure. Thanks, Canelo.”

I drive around for another half hour, revisiting places and things I haven’t seen in years. And somehow, I end up at the cemetery. It’s not a huge graveyard, but still, Love’s been around a while. The town is small—probably only a few thousand have been buried here.

And Mr. Green must be one of them. Autumn and her mom would have wanted to keep him close. I wander for forty minutes before I find his headstone.

Edward Green

Husband, Father, Friend

I plop down and stare at the dates. I stare at his name. I can only imagine how Autumn’s heart broke. My throat chokes up at the thought. Ed Green was the best man I knew. He gave me a chance when a lot of fathers wouldn’t have. I’ve spent the last decade thinking that, in the end, he never really approved of me. But it wasn’t true.

Realizing that Autumn said that just to get me to leave makes me braver when facing him now. Even in this way.

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