Page 90 of Falling for Autumn Again

“It’s not heroic. It’s family. I did what I needed to—for you and Dad and Summer.”

Her head dips, forcing eye contact. “Yes, but he’s a man now, Autumn. You don’t get to trick him into a decision he may not want to make.”

“I didn’t trick him before. I was trying to make sure he got out of Love. That he got away from Mav.”

“I understand that. And I know your intentions were good. For us and him. But you have to be honest, for both your sakes.” She covers my hand with hers.

But the mini-lecture doesn’t soothe or comfort me. In fact, it bugs me—a lot. I’ve been living in an Ezra-filled, worry-free bubble all week long and she’s brought me out of it.

“Honesty. That’s good advice, Mom. Maybe you need to be honest with yourself too. You haven’t left this house in five years. Have you been honest about that? How will you ever get over Daddy when you can’t even get out of the house?”

"I don't plan to get over your father," she says as if this should be obvious.

“Yeah, well, I don’t plan to let Ezra live in the same town ashisfather.” I stand up, my nerves spiraling. “I’m going to take your car out to the ranch. Tell Ezra he can bring my truck back out.”

“What about the expired plates?” She mimics me, standing up, her brow knit in worry.

“If the sheriff wants to pull me over, he can.”

“Autumn!” She takes one step forward, but she won’t cross the front door threshold, and I’m already out the door.

Chapter Forty-Two

Autumn

I’m regrettingmy harshness with Mom before I reach the farm. Why did I talk to her like that? Why did I tell her to get over Dad?

My head aches with regret.

It takes me a minute to notice the extra cars and people on the farm. But there’s a crowd. Dessie always has a crowd on opening week though. People come for the scenery, the store, and Dessie’s cider.

I park and peer out at the people lining up for cider and cocoa to the side of the opened barn doors. I watch a little girl slip her hand into her mother’s before walking into the barn. The Linus Tree Farm has always been a happy place for the entire community.

I lean my head against the center of Mom’s steering wheel, breathing in the stale peanut scent that’s somehow accumulated in her old, abandoned car these past five years.

She isn’t wrong. Ezra is a grown man, and I can’t force him or manipulate him into anything.

A rap on my window has me flailing. My forehead pressesinto the horn on the wheel, and it beeps loudly and quick into the open air.

I peer out at Don staring in at me and then the crowd who have all turned my way.

I open up the door, ready to move my body, and turn away from the gawking visitors. Nothing to see here! Just a girl having a mental breakdown.

“Did you get some new wheels?” Don asks.

“Huh?”

“The car,” Don says. “Is it new?”

“Oh. Um.” I shake my head. “It’s my mom’s.” Ready to confess all my sins, I add, “I got upset with her and left.”

“So you’re sticking it to her by stealing her car?” Don knows my mother’s situation. He knows she hasn’t been out her front door in years. Stealing her car isn’t sticking it to her in any way.

“No. Ezra has my truck. I just needed to leave.” I sigh. “Except, now I think she might have been right.”

“Moms usually are.”

“Don, do you think it was wrong of me to let Ezra leave without the truth all those years ago?” I’ve never spoken so candidly about the subject—and yet, I know he knows what I’m talking about.

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