Page 64 of Just One Summer with the Grumpy

“I have missed you so much,” I told her, straightening her ever-messy mane and giving her neck a pat. I drank in the smell of her and sighed. “I’m glad you’re still here. Life just isn’t the same without you.”

Dad dumped a handful of oats into a bucket and handed it over. “Life wasn’t the same without you too. But it sounds like you’ve lived through some tough experiences and come out better for it. Romance is hard, especially.”

I snorted. “Yeah, right. You said Mom flipped your world on its head, and you were married within weeks. That isn’t how it goes anymore.”

“I doubt it’s changed much,” Dad said. “You just have to know what to look for. Love feels like fate tapping you on the shoulder, telling you to look twice. Like you just found your future in the form of a person.”

I shook my head. “Fate and I aren’t the best of friends at the moment. I think I’ll follow my heart next time. Much more reliable.”

Dad squeezed my shoulder. “Nothing a ride through the fields won’t solve. Rosie could sure use the exercise.”

Suddenly I was a thirteen-year-old again, sneaking to the barn to escape homework and cutting through fields to visit friends. “I need to see Bridget.”

“Bet she’ll be happy to see you. Just text if you end up staying the night. I know how you two go on.”

I threw myself into his arms, which immediately encircled me. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome. Just remember—sometimes a pile of wreckage doesn’t mean the end, but clearing ground for a new beginning. We’re happy for this new beginning with you.”

Bridget plunged out her front door before I could even knock, throwing her arms around me. “It’s so good to see you! I couldn’t believe it when you said you were back. I would have run over right away, but I didn’t dare leave Pops alone.”

I hugged her back. “I came as soon as I could.”

“I know you did.” She pulled away and grabbed my shoulders. “Does it feel like stepping back into time?”

“Actually, a lot of things are different,” I admitted. New stores and a gas station I didn’t remember. Things like that. “Dad’s gray hair was a bit of a shock.”

“Your mom has it too, but she colors her hair. Poor Daphne. I know you wouldn’t have come home if you’d had any other choice.”

“Actually, I would have. It was time.”

She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the doorway. “I’m proud of you. Come in! I have so many questions. Among them, are you staying the night? Are we eating any fortune cookies?”

I made a face. “I think I’m done with fortune cookies for a while.”

She closed the door behind us. “The fortune game, then. We need to see who you’re marrying.”

“I’m marrying whoever I choose. You, on the other hand, are also marrying someone I choose. Let’s talk about the eligible bachelors in town. Or outside of it, for that matter.”

She laughed. “I do have a couple of prospects I haven’t told you about.”

“What? I need photos, stat.”

A few minutes later, we sat at her parents’ giant computer—which looked like it hadn’t budged in seven years—and flipped through social media photos of old friends. While she searched, I caught sight of a browser tucked away on the screen. One of the open windows said Chase’s name. “What’s that?”

“This? Oh, after you told me that article about Chase was true, I pulled up a few more. I didn’t get very far though.” Bridget pulled up the window.

The first few articles echoed more about his accusations and court case, but the sixth near the bottom of the page was a newer article. “How about that one?”

She clicked on it, and we began to read.

“Oh, Daphne,” Bridget moaned.

I stood there, frozen, staring at the words with a sinking horror in the pit of my stomach.

His aunt’s photo was prominently displayed at the top, with the headline CHASE EVERETT CLEARED OF ALL CHARGES.

I skimmed the article and came to an interview with his aunt. Her name wasn’t mentioned, but I knew it had to be Carolle.

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