Page 3 of Forgotten Pieces

But for some reason I have never been able to tell her about what I saw a year ago that shattered me. I know I should pick up the pieces of my soul I left on the floor after my last serious relationship or after everything I have been through, but I can’t find my way. Taking a break from New York is my most viable option. I need to grow up rather than sulking in my pathetic misery.

She knows the topic is over when I change the subject. “You know cornfields and one stoplight towns will probably do me good. I think I need to get away from the hustle and bustle. I’ll probably sit with the Sergeants every morning at breakfast to share the town gossip I hear the night before at the town bar.”

“Who are the Sergeants?”

I laugh thinking about White Creek. “The town gossips. It’s all the old ladies in the town that don’t have anything to do.”

Cameron grabs a box and starts packing up my things. “God, I forget how small your town is sometimes. One stoplight? I grew up with gunshots and gangs.”

I throw a pillow at her. “Shut up. You grew up with the upper elite of Boston. You were not surrounded by gunshots. The mafia, maybe.”

“Well, I lived in a city, I am sure there were gunshots somewhere,” she guffaws.

I shake my head and smile. I am going to miss Cam. She has been my rock through all my ups and downs here. “You’ll just have to come visit me and see what it’s really like out in BFE.”

She starts jumping up and down like a kid. “Ooh, maybe I will. Do you think there is a cowboy there I can wrangle?”

I laugh out loud at that. Of course Cam would visit White Creek hoping to get laid. “I am sure there are a few, but you might need to lower your standards.”

“You know my standards are pretty low when I have too many drinks.”

“And that is the only thing there is to do back home. So you might actually enjoy it.”

Cameron stops what she’s doing and pulls her phone out of her pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking up flights, duh. What’s the closest airport?”

“I don’t think those cowboys in White Creek will be ready for you.”

We spend the next couple hours packing before heading out to lunch. When we put the last box into the back of my SUV, we both break down in tears. Cameron wishes me luck as she closes my door and tells me she will see me soon.

I hope it’s true. I want Cam to visit me. To break apart the monotony that I know I am walking into in White Creek.

Chapter Two

Tacoma

I pull into the driveway of my childhood home. Now my brother’s home. He took possession of it after my parents died when I was fifteen. I park next to his truck and take a deep breath. I really hope he isn’t pissed about this. We aren’t on the best of terms. We talk and are cordial but the wedge I drove between us when I was eighteen stills sits bitterly on his tongue.

“Hey T!” my brother shouts as he walks down the front steps of his porch with his baby in tow.

I jump out of my SUV and meet him halfway with a hug. “Good to see you.”

“Likewise. I told you I would have picked you up at the airport. It’s a long drive by yourself from New York.”

I toe the ground with my slip-ons. “Yeah, well, about that.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his face turning serious.

“If you don’t agree with this, I can talk to Laney or Summer or Rae, but I kind of decided to leave New York. Needed a change. Thought you might let me crash for a few weeks until I figure some things out. It will be like old times, right? The whole family back together.” I ramble and turn it into a joke like I always do to calm a situation.

Easton stays quiet for a minute, thinking. I swear I can see the gears in his brain turning. “Is everything okay?”

I hate that question. Why do people ask it? It’s obvious when things are not okay. Like right now. Who in their right mind would leave a major metropolis with endless activities to move back to bumfuck Tennessee where the only thing to do is drink or go cow tipping?

I paste a fake smile on my face. “Everything is peachy. Just sick of New York.”

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