Page 57 of Buried Dreams

“Gotta love the small town.” She laughs. “What are you going to do when it’s done and your mother is back at work?”

The question in itself makes my stomach turn. “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I thought I would come back and just leave after.”

Autumn laughs. “Girl, same.” She moves on her knees as she dips her paintbrush in the paint. “Now here I am with a thriving business, a husband, and a child.” She smiles when she says it. “How are you and Brock?”

I look over at her. “Is there talk about us?” I ask, and she side-eyes me. “Shit… really?”

“He threw down with you in the middle of the parking lot with about twenty people there listening. It’s not like he was keeping it to himself.”

I exhale. “I don’t know,” I finally admit to her. “I mean, I do know. I never stopped loving him even though I convinced myself all these years that I hated him. I think it was easy since I didn’t have to see him every single day. But the minute I finally laid eyes on him in the flesh, I knew I didn’t really hate him. I also knew that I never really hated him to begin with.”

“How are you going to handle that?” she asks, and I shrug. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to answer her. “You still have a ways to go anyway.”

“Do I?” I ask, not really sure. “And what is that going to do? More time spending it here. More time spending it with Brock. More time for me to see my life is empty without this.” I open my arms. “I know two of my neighbors,” I admit to her, “and one because we sometimes bang.” She snort-laughs. “The other one because she complains my wind chimes that I keep outside wake her up at all hours of the night, so I had to bring it inside my bedroom near my window.” I roll the paint roller in the paint. “I haven’t been to my apartment since I came here, and I don’t think anyone noticed. Not one person even texted to check on me or ask me how I am doing.”

“I’m so sorry,” she says softly. “I had a friend when I left here. She sort of saved me, and I will be forever grateful for her.”

“I’m sorry,” I reply quietly, “for turning my back on you when you needed me. For how everything went down.”

“I’m sorry too, for not being brave enough to tell you guys what was going on with Waylon. For not?—”

“Hey,” I snap, “you don’t have to apologize for anything. You were not driving that truck. Don’t let him continue to have a hold on you. That was his decision. I knew he wasn’t all there. I mean, I didn’t know he was drinking that night, but he was always so pissed off and reckless. We all knew deep down inside, and none of us said a word.”

She shakes her head. “Now I have to know”—she raises her eyebrows—“have you been with Brock since you’ve been home?”

I think about lying and keeping it more to myself, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a girlfriend to talk about these things with, all I can do is smile shyly. “Yes, and before you ask, even better than before.”

Her mouth opens. “I know, shocking since it was like out of this world before, but now it’s like kablam.” I shake my hands and some of the paint drops on my pants. “Like he just got better with age, which is not fair, by the way. He was supposed to get older and have saggy balls.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “I never want to picture Brock and his balls again in my life. Thank you for the visual.” It’s my turn to laugh. “Word on the street is that he’s smiling now and not all grouchy and shit. Grunting instead of using words. It’s a phenomenon, really.” I can’t help but laugh a bit. “We are all saying that it looks good on him.”

I look down at the wall and then back at Autumn. “Anything looks good on him,” I admit. “He was always too handsome for his own damn good.”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that.” She makes me laugh as we switch topics, and she asks me how I’m going to decorate the shop.

We paint for a good couple of hours before there is a knock on the window. We look over to see Landon with his balled-up baby fists in his mouth as his face goes into a gummy smile, looking at his mom before he finally shrieks out in a high-pitched squeal.

“There is my man,” she says, putting down her paintbrush and wiping her hands on her pants before reaching out and grabbing him. She pulls him to her and kisses his neck. “Did you miss me?”

“We did,” Charlie confirms, leaning down and kissing her lips, “so, so much.” I smile at the three of them having their moment.

“This is perfect timing,” I say, putting the paintbrush down, “because I am done for the day.” I clap my hands together.

“I’m going to clean up and then head out.”

“Oh no,” Charlie says, “why don’t I clean up for you two, and you guys can go to the bar and take a load off?”

“Isn’t he the best?” Autumn asks, looking at me and then looking up at Charlie.

“He’s something,” I reply, trying not to laugh at them.

“Are you sure?” I ask, and he nods. “Fine.”

I walk out with Autumn. “Are you sure he’s okay?” I ask, turning my head. I don’t even look where I’m going and almost run into something.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry,” I finally say, looking forward and coming face-to-face with Karla. My stomach literally sinks down to my feet. It was bound to happen; the town isn’t that big.

“Well, well, well,” she snips with a sickening smile on her face, “I heard you were back.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Didn’t really believe it until my daughter said she hung out with her dad’s friend.” She chuckles. “It was no big secret who that could be, considering he doesn’t really have any friends.”

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