Page 38 of Mended Hearts

“Oh, I have faith…in you. Not this house,” he teases.

Heading out of the house, I get his suitcase out of the car and load it into my mom’s trunk. I make sure he has all his electronics in the front seat with him, along with the snacks we bought on the way here. He just got done being trapped in a car for hours. I’m shocked he’s so excited to be trapped in another one again.

I hug them both tightly, Dylan a little tighter, before waving them off. I watch as my mother’s car becomes smaller andsmaller until I can no longer see it. The urge to run after it and jump in with them crosses my mind.

A slender arm wraps around my waist, pulling me in. I look over at Lynsie and smile. “I really hate to leave you. Are you gonna be okay?” she asks warily. “I can go pick up Blu and come back here instead.”

“Nah, as much as I want to see that baby of yours, I probably should get to work on this place.” “Oh my gosh,” Lynsie exclaims, dragging each word out. I look over and her eyes are as big as saucers and a smile covers her face. She starts jumping up and down. “You and I are practically family.” In a roundabout way, she’s right, and the realization makes a full smile take over my face. “I’ve always wanted a sister,” she says, throwing her arms around me.

“I love you too, Lynsie.” I tightly hug her.

I stand on the cracked sidewalk, the same one I used to watch the neighbor girls do hopscotch on. Giggling from behind pulls my mind back to the present. I turn to see a little boy a couple yards down, running as his dad chases him. It makes me smile. I can picture Dustin doing that with Dylan. He’s missed so much. He may never forgive me.

Chapter Twenty-Four

ECHO

Iwake up early, anxious and half out of my mind. I pull my jean shorts up, toss a tie-dyed tank on, then grab my sandals. Cash flies out of my purse when I pull my keys out and I laugh at my sneaky mother for stuffing it in there. I grab my phone and open my notes so I can type down a general list of supplies I need. I drive down memory lane and park right in front of the store. I walk in and the bell on the door takes me back to the only other time I walked in this store. I picture Dustin at the back wall on the step stool. The memory makes me smile, as all of them do except our last.

I smile at the chick behind the register, who greets me as I grab a shopping cart. I fill it with puddy, scrapers, sandpaper, brushes, a few rollers, tape, plastic, and four gallons of white paint and the plastic pan to pour it into. Surely that’ll do it. I push my cart to the counter and sit my items on it. The young cashier isn’t very chatty, and I appreciate it.

“Do you need help out?” she asks.

I smile and wrap my fingers around the handles of the paint, grabbing one per hand. “Nope, I got it.”

I’VE NEVER BEEN the Bob Villa type, but since recently becoming obsessed withFixer Upper, I feel qualified to whip this house into shape. Or at least better shape than its current state. I start by filling the holes and imperfections in the living and dining room walls. My thought process is that once I’m done doing this, I can place the tape around the baseboards and trim and once I’m done with that, the putty areas should be dry enough for me to begin sanding. I’m trying to maximize my time and minimize my effort.

You know, work smarter not harder.

After sanding away all the imperfections, I walk through both areas and double-check my work. I cross the entryway into the room I’ve been avoiding—my dad’s old office. An old walnut desk faces me with a matching desk and hutch filling the wall behind it. I envision him sitting behind the desk, peering up at me as I walk past. I pull open the blinds to the window he used to stare out, releasing a wave of light into the dim room.

I sit in the rolling chair and pull the center drawer out. I push around the notepad and the few pens before shutting it and looking through the other drawers. With the disarray the rest of the house is in, I’m shocked the desk seems to be wiped clean. I spin around in the chair a few times, stopping right in front as if I just spun the bottle and it’s directing me back to the drawer. I slowly open it again and pull out the notepad and a pen. I click the pen and take a deep breath.

Dustin,

Hey! How are you? It’s been so long.

“That’s the dumbest thing ever.” I rip the page and crumple it, then drop it on the ground. And proceed to do this five moretimes before giving up in frustration. “You need to eat. That’ll help clear your mind since writing Dustin probably isn’t a good idea.” I push away from the desk and quickly exit the room and then the house after grabbing my purse. Slowly, I begin walking down the sidewalk with no clear destination in sight. Food. I need food, but other than grabbing something for lunch, I don’t need anything else since I’m supposed to have dinner at Dax and Lynsie’s tonight.

I don’t take the main road, which would be the shortest way to the bakery downtown. Instead, I make my way through the neighborhood. I walk this route unconsciously, without hesitation. Once in front of Dustin’s house, my senses return, and I come to realize how out of it I truly am being back here. The last time I was at this house was when I returned in hopes of finding him. But he was already gone. I glance at the side of the house, noticing the black tarp, and wonder if his Blazer is beneath. Before I’m able to give off any Michael Myer vibes, I take off and continue my journey for lunch.

I PULL INTO Dax and Lynsie’s driveway and take in the surroundings. While it’s not very far from my parents’ home, it feels like it doesn’t belong here. The gravel drive leading up to the spacious amount of land encompassing their two-story colonial-style brick home. I can only imagine how much Lynsie loves the symmetry of it all.

The part I love most is the huge pond they seem to have all to themselves. I can’t help but walk out to it. Shadows embrace it from the surrounding trees while the sun kisses it good night as it settles in for the night. I’d kiss it good night too if I could do so without drowning.

I take the two steps up the porch and smile at the two rocking chairs to the side of the door. I can picture them both out here,watching the sunset as they rock Blu. The image warms my heart.

I knock, using the metal door knocker. I half expect it to start talking to me like the ones fromThe Labyrinth.

“Hey!” Lynsie almost squeals, opening the door.

I follow her inside and gawk at how tall the ceilings are. While the house isn’t a complete time capsule like the one I’m trying to update, this one is a bit outdated as well. But that’s what makes it fun—making it your own.

“It is so gorgeous out here. And this house… Y’all hit the jackpot.” I check out the huge, open living room with the skinny brick fireplace that shoots up the wall.

“Thanks. We really love it out here.” Lynsie looks around with a mile wide smile. I can tell how proud she is.

“I can see why.” We make our way into the huge kitchen.

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