Page 54 of Happy Trails & Honey Pots

“Right, so we cast your character,” I explained.

“Oh, good. Who did you end up going with?”

“Rachel Cobb.”

“That was the redhead with the blue shirt, right?”

“Yeah, the one you liked.”

“Oh, good. I’m glad. And is she okay being a blonde?”

“Yeah, she’s not a natural redhead. She told me she has mousy brown hair, so she’s fine with going blonde.”

“Great. Was that it?”

I hated that she couldn’t wait to get off the phone with me. I wished that I could go back to that night when we were together, not that I wanted to do anything differently except maybe talk more. Ask her why we would be such a bad idea. Why was she so sure that nothing could happen between us?

“No, actually, Rachel was wondering if she could talk to you. She has some questions and wants to see you before we shoot once she gets to Firefly. I told her I needed to get your permission before I could give her your contact information.”

The line was silent. I wondered if this was going too far. Since Zoe had been against the project and then on the fence, this ask could push her right over to the side of against it again. I hated that so much of this was out of Zoe’s comfort zone.

“If you don’t feel comfortable, that’s fine,” I quickly said. “I can tell her thatIdon’t think it’s a good idea because I don’t want her to do an impression of you. I can say I want her to make the character her own. The no doesn’t have to come from you.”

“No, that’s okay. You can give her my information.”

“Are you sure?” The last time I asked her if she was sure about something was when I was about to be inside of her.

Sometimes, that night felt like a dream—like it hadn’t actually happened. Like I’d made it up in my imagination. I wondered if she thought about it as much as I did. Or if it hadn’t meant that much to her. Or if she’d blocked it from her memory.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Okay.” I wished that there was more for me to say to keep her on the phone, but there wasn’t. “Thanks for calling me back. It was really good hearing your voice.”

“You, too. Bye.”

The call disconnected, and I sat there feeling strange. I was happy that I’d finally spoken to Zoe, but there was another part of me that was even more sure she really meant it when she said that what we’d shared couldn’t happen again. Whatever feelings she’d acted on when she’d kissed me at that door, she’d clearly gotten over. Now, I just had to do the same.

That might be a lot easier said than done, considering I was going to be Austin eighteen hours a day for the next six weeks, and he lived and breathed being madly hopelessly in love with Zoe. WithhisZoe.

25

ZOE

Two hours.Once a month. For AJ. He wanted a relationship with his grandparents, and I wasn’t going to deny him that. I also wasn't going to allow him to visit them unsupervised, which was why I suffered through this monthly torture of dinner at my parents’ house.

Silence can be very loud. The clink of silverware hitting a plate always triggered my anxiety. The scrape of a fork against the knife as it cut through meat caused my chest to tighten. The hours I’d spent sitting around a silent dinner table waiting for my mother to berate me or my father, to tell me how much of a disappointment we were to her were countless. She never raised her voice. Never yelled. She was always controlled, as if that made her words any less painful, sharp, or damaging.

After she disowned me, I didn’t speak to her for five years. Even when Austin was killed, she didn’t get in touch. My father did. He came to Walter’s house and told me how sorry he was. Every once in a while, I would find an envelope of money on the porch, which I knew was from him. My mother didn’t have anything to do with me until the pastor called her into his office and had a word with her. I don’t know what he said. I wouldn’teven know that it happened if it wasn’t for Caroline Shaw, who did the hair of Penny Gardner, the pastor’s secretary who told Ms. Shaw about the meeting and indicated it had something to do with reconciling with me.

Two days later, my mother approached me at the grocery store, where I was shopping with AJ. She told me that she’d forgiven me of my sinful ways and was willing to accept AJ as her grandson. When AJ asked who she was, she told him she was his grandmother. He’d never had a grandmother before, so he got excited, and when she invited us to dinner, he said he wanted to go. I didn’t have the heart to say no. Not with everything he’d been through losing his dad.

That was a little over six years ago. We’d been coming once a month ever since.

To be fair, my father wasn’t horrible. He just wasn’t anything. He never stood up to my mother. He allowed her to spew her hate and negativity on both of us when I was growing up.

My mother cleared her throat, and I felt myself bracing for impact. “So, I hear they are going to be filming a movie about Austin in town.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to play my dad,” AJ sat up straighter, his chest puffing with pride.

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