Page 21 of Willow

I was contemplating going to the dealership. How difficult could it be? That’s what I thought until I browsed the internet and grew overwhelmed with all the car choices, dealerships, interest rates, etc. etc. Now I’m more confused than ever. It might be a good idea if I wait until I can go with someone who knows about cars. Caleb sprang to mind since he has several in his parking garage. I’d love to ask him, but after what happened at the wedding I didn’t want to ask for his help. What can I say? The conversation ended rather abruptly and the tension hung thick in the air. Isn’t that what usually happens when a woman turns down a man for sex?

Typical man.

Whatever. It’s a pain in the ass not having my own wheels, and I hate depending on people. Trevor said he didn’t mind picking me up at all and Mom lets me borrow the car whenever I need it. So, I’ll wait and see if my car’s worth fixing. If not, then I’ll take one of the guys with me after the tour’s over and we have time. If I purchase one now, it’s just going to sit in the driveway for a few months anyway. That might be the reason why my beat-up oldToyotarefused to work. It had been neglected for so long. Poor baby.

So while I have so much time on my hands, I’m going to clean the house from top to bottom. It’s the least I can do for my mom while I’m home. I know it couldn’t have been easy on her having to go back to work after my dad was sent to prison. At the time, she didn’t have a choice and I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to help her out. Now I’m more than capable of helping her out financially as well as physically. And, if I have time, I’ll make us dinner too.

Rummaging through the cabinets, I pull out all the cleaning supplies I need and put them in a bucket, making it easier for me to carry up and down the stairs. I’ll lug the clunky old vacuum cleaner upstairs after I finish all the dusting first.

Climbing the stairs, I decide to begin in my mom’s bedroom. I wouldn’t normally go in there, but today’s the exception. I really don’t think she’ll mind when she comes home to a spotless house.

Stepping inside her room is like being in a time warp. I never realized how emotional it would be for me. Nothing’s changed. It looks the same as it did when my father lived here. I bet if I opened her closet door, all of his clothes would still be inside. Are they? I’m not going to look, because if I do I’ll be sucked into a time capsule without an escape. Some things are best kept secret. This is one of them.

Walking over to her dresser, I suck in a breath. Framed photographs are splayed across her laced runner. I’m caught up in the past when I gaze at every one of them. I haven’t seen his face since they arrested him. There are so many emotions swirling around inside of me I don’t know how to process any of them. I idolized this man. He was my hero. Until he became my enemy.

The bucket slips through my fingers, and with trembling hands I pick up a picture of the two of us. It was my eighth-grade father-daughter dance. It was one of the happiest days of my life. At the time, I thought he was the most handsome man in that auditorium. Little did I know that six years later he would break my heart and turn my world upside down. My fingers itch to throw it against the wall, but it wouldn’t change the outcome. He’d still be in jail for murder.

With a shaky hand, I set the frame down in the same spot I found it. I pick up the bucket and walk out of the room. I don’t know what I was expecting when I walked in after so many years. Perhaps I was hoping that Mom purged him from her life like I did all those years ago. Wishful thinking on my part. She divorced him six months after he was sent to prison, but apparently didn’t feel the need to remove the memories. I’m not angry at her. It’s her prerogative to remember the good times, too. I just chose to take out the trash.

I chastise myself for trying to clean her room first. Now I’m a ball of emotion. Grabbing my phone, I tap on my favorite playlist, crank up the volume, and spend the next several hours cleaning, scrubbing, and sanitizing every square inch of this house. When I’m finished, everything sparkles and shines. With a hint of lemon lingering in the air. I’m done, in more ways than one.

I’m ready to put everything away when my phone vibrates inside my pocket. An incoming text. Curiosity gets the best of me since everyone’s on vacation, with the exception of Mom. My feelings are too raw to talk to her right now. I pull out my phone anyway and swipe. It’s Caleb.

* * *

CALEB

I’m unsettledafterI had that conversation with my mom. I hate not being able to explain how I’m feeling about Willow. There’s something that draws me to Willow like a magnet. An undeniable force that I’ve never felt before. It’s palpable, like a living, breathing entity. My mind’s trying to convince me it’s because I’m older, wiser, and wanting to protect her. My body’s telling my mind to fuck off because our age difference doesn’t matter! It’s just a fucking number. For the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do. I’m so conflicted.

In business, everything is there in black and white. In my personal life, it’s not that easy. Sometimes the things I want I can’t always have. Starting with Cadence. I’d give my life if it meant she could lead a normal one. Without treatments, medications, and constant supervision. And now there’s Willow. A headstrong young woman who has me so tied up in knots I can’t see straight. She’s all I can think about and it’s starting to interfere with my work. Never have I ever let anything come between me and my business with the exception of Cadence! Since when did Willow become so important? For the life of me, I can’t answer that question. The why is not important at this time! What is important is focusing on the Battle of the Bands this weekend.

Which is easier said than done since I involved Willow by asking her to be one of the judges. I know, same old song and dance. I only have myself to blame, and now I need to deal with it. I still have a few days to apologize for being rude. Groveling might be the only thing that I can do. Hold on! Wait. Maybe, she’d come around if I asked her to play piano with me. It’s worth a try, and if she can’t then I’ll stoop to groveling.

I have a few minutes before my next meeting begins, so I shoot her off a quick text.

Me:If you’re still talking to me, I’d like to show you my moves on the piano.

I hit send and immediately regret it. I stare at my phone like an idiot just waiting for some response. Five minutes later, I see the bubbles start then stop. Well, I should have known. I should have started with an apology and then asked. Oh, wait…

Willow:Sorry, you have the wrong number.

What the hell? I check my phone, the number, and the name. Clearly, she’s pissed off and ignoring me.

Willow:You checked the number, didn’t you?

That little minx. I’d like to paddle her ass for being such a naughty girl.

Me:You got me. I sure did. Now that you had your laugh, would you like to join me?

Willow:You owe me an apology.

Me:I do and I’d rather do it in person.

Willow:Okay, but my car’s in the shop.

Me:I’ll pick you up at seven.

Willow:Sounds good Boss Man.

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