Page 6 of Solitude

I might have left out the parts where we confessed a few secrets that even Sienna doesn’t know about me, and she knows me better than anyone else in my life.

Flopping down on my bed, I look towards the window I’ve been watching the Hale’s out of for years now and ponder the idea that maybe, just maybe, there was a time that Beck looked over at my house and wondered about me, too.

Doubtful.

2

SUMMER ‘23

Winnie

“Um…hi,”the blonde waves awkwardly from her chair to the rest of the group. “I’m Honey, and I don’t really know why I’m here.”

A chorus of greetings erupt from the group despite Honey’s self-introduction full of annoyance and displeasure. I watch silently as the young woman’s eyes dart to the floor, a flush spreading over her cheeks like it was the first time she’s ever had to introduce herself in front of a group of misfits. Reluctant or not.

It’s a big step. It really is. To even walk in this room is an accomplishment deserving of recognition.

Everyone in this small circle of chairs can relate to how difficult it is to be aware enough of the fact you might have a problem, let alone voice the problem out loud. While Honey didn’t necessarily admit to her addiction,whatever it may be, she’s still sitting in one of these uncomfortable metal chairs with the rest of us.

Well, except for me, I guess.

I’m not an addict; unless you count being addicted to support groups.

But that feels relatively harmless.

It could be misconstrued as something cruel and ignorant, like wanting to know the town’s juicy gossip, but it has nothing to do with that. In fact, most of the information shared in this room has already been spread throughout the town like a wildfire by one of the old ladies that somehow know all.

It’s one downfall of living in Magnolia Hollow.

Honey’s voice, musical in sound and articulate, pulls me out of my thoughts. I watch her lock eyes with Cole, our group leader. She’s speaking slowly and stumbling over her words slightly like she’d rather pull all of her teeth out than be here, but Cole’s reassuring presence makes everyone feel safer whenever he’s around. It’s easier for the group attendees to look at him and tell their life stories than it is to look at anyone else, which always struck me as odd considering Cole is practically the face of Magnolia Hollow Police Department now.

But maybe it’s because he feels like a kindred spirit despite that.

The town watched Cole go from being a golden boy destined to play pro ball to an alcoholic, pill-popper (Lorelai’s words) after his deployment. Mrs. Betty claims he only joined the military to run away from MagnoliaHollow and all the problems he’d created for himself here. I was too young to know what was going on, but I overheard my parents talking about all of his wasted potential when he married Junie Farmer, his high school sweetheart.

People suspected she was pregnant for the longest, but a baby never came. Only divorce. And boy, was it an ugly one. Junie left town five years ago, and no one has seen her since. Not even her parents who chose to stay in The Hollow.

It took a couple of years, but Cole made a turnaround, which feels even harder to do in a town where he’s treated like royalty, his life constantly on display.

Honey takes a deep breath and picks at a spot on her dress. “So, now, I’m here; with my sister and my mother, who’s practically dead.”

“I take it you don’t want to be here?” Cole asks softly.

Honey scoffs, narrowing her eyes at him. “You of all people know why I’m here, detective.”

“That I do. Want me to share?”

Her face drops, and I lean forward in my chair, practically falling off the edge to catch what Cole might say. Mrs. Betty is wide eyed and turning her good ear their way too. We should know better. Cole is as tight lipped as humanly possible when it comes to other people’s secrets.

Cole smirks. “Don’t worry, Honey. That’s your story to tell whenever you’re ready.”

“You’re an asshole!” Honey grits her teeth. She pointsaround the room, eyes locked on Cole’s. “Do they know what a fucking asshole you are?”

He raises a brow, corners of his mouth turned down as he meets everyone’s eyes. When his eyes connect with mine, he winks, and I can’t help the grin on my face.

I pipe up from my metal chair and shrug. “He’s a lot of things… Annoying, too happy, energetic, goofy, mysterious at times, but an asshole? I’ll need some convincing.”

Mrs. Betty pats my thigh and nods. “I completely agree, Winifred. How dare she say those things about this sweet man? He helps me grocery shop every Wednesday.”

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