Page 8 of Butterfly Sisters
A long quiet whistle came from Leigh’s right, and her heart stopped, the sound pulling her attention over to a man who was eyeing her like he’d never seen a woman before—to her relief, he was unfamiliar. He winked at her before turning to the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of lemonade, before he passed her and tossed a few bucks on the counter to pay for his drink. Then he walked out.
“He ain’t gonna hurt a fly,” Leon said from behind the counter, clearly not recognizing her right away, his attention on the man. He, too, looked the same as he had years ago, with the exception of some gray that had formed at the temples of his brown hair. “Colton’ll tell ya, ain’t that right, Colton?” He nodded over to the guy two aisles over.
Leigh’s breath caught. Hewasthere. It had been ages, but her pulse quickened, her heart nearly beating out of her chest. Over the years, he’d become this golden memory that she’d held so dear, and now he was standing right there. Part of her wanted to run over to him and throw her arms around him like she had so many years ago, but she knew their closeness was only a figment of her imagination now. Time had pushed its way between them and, as she looked at him, the young boy she’d known was but a whisper in the past.
A distant memory flashed in her mind of the day she’d met the shirtless young boy, his skin tan from summer at the lake, his light-brown hair laced with golden streaks. He was sitting on the dock with his bare feet hanging off the edge, a fishing pole in his hand.
“Whatcha doing?” a twelve-year-old Leigh asked as she skipped over to him, something he’d end up repeating to her every time he saw her after that. On the dock, he barely looked up at her, almost as if she’d disturbed him. “My name’s Leigh,” she said, sitting down beside him. She held out her hand the way her parents had taught her to greet someone. “Nice to meet you.”
He didn’t shake it, his grip remaining on his fishing pole. She noticed the dirt under his fingernails.
“Where do you live?” she asked.
He finally looked at her. “You talk a lot,” he said, before turning his attention back to the lake and the little bobber that was swaying on the surface.
She swung her feet back and forth over the edge, considering this. She wanted to tell him she didn’t think she did talk a lot, but that would be more talking, so she opted to sit silently beside the boy with no name.
The bobber dipped under the water and the boy straightened, winding his reel until a tiny fish emerged. It flipped and flopped on the end of his line. Evidently disappointed, he shook his head, removed the fish and threw it back into the water. Then he rebaited his hook and started again, casting the line out into the swell of the lake.
“You gonna tell me your name?” she asked.
He stared at her, the gold in his dark-brown eyes like fiery diamonds against his tanned skin. No one had ever made her heart beat like that just by looking at her.
“Colton Harris,” he finally said, standing up and reeling in his line.
“It’s nice to meet you, Colton,” she said, getting up and trying again, offering her hand.
He stared at it like he didn’t know what to do with it, so she dropped her arm back down by her side. He packed up his sack of things and tossed it over his bare shoulder. “I’ll see ya,” he said.
Even though he’d been less than friendly when she’d met him that first day, it didn’t stop her from writing his name on all her notebooks with a heart and little flowers around it, and she’d known that if she ever got married, she wanted her husband to look just like Colton Harris.
“You live around here?” Leon asked, squinting down his nose at Leigh.
She cleared her throat. “No, I’m just visiting for a few days. I, uh, used to come here to see my grandmother when I was a kid,” she said, distracted by Colton, who was now at the back of the store, getting a six-pack of beer out of one of the refrigerated cases. His shoulders were much broader than they’d been when he was a teenager, his body more muscular, but his hairline was the same and his movements were still familiar. “You don’t remember me?”
Leon squinted at her before his bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze darting between Leigh and Colton before settling back on her. “Leigh Henderson? Well, well, well…” His gaze slid down to her silk shirt and trousers and then back up to her face. “You’re all grown up, ain’t ya? How you been?”
“Good,” she said, her attention back on the empty aisle where Colton had stood.
She jumped when Colton set the beer down on the counter, along with a bag of potato chips, a box of dog bones, and a bottle of water, standing behind her and not saying a word. Did he recognize her? Up close, he was taller than she remembered. His hair was darker, there was a slight stubble of gold on his jaw, and fine lines at the edges of his eyes that worked for him. She caught his appraising glance at her designer bag and wedge heels and the subtle, dismissive shake of his head as the corner of his mouth turned upward when he addressed Leon, mentioning a rainstorm that was on its way in the next few days.
With his attention on Leon, Leigh took in the familiar curve of his face, the natural pout in his lips…
The cash register spat out a receipt for Colton’s things and Leon reached around her and grabbed the items, stuffing them into a plastic bag. Even though she had no idea what to say to Colton now, she’d hoped to hear that rasp in his voice directed at her, the “Whatcha doing?”. But it never came.
“Did you need something, Miss Leigh?” Leon asked, pulling her out of her head.
“Oh,” she said, coming to. “I need directions to Thicket Lane.”
Colton grabbed his bag, and she could feel his stare as he stepped away from her, leaving her wondering if he knew which Leigh was standing opposite him. The weight in his silence told her he did.
“That’s a mess of turns from here,” Leon replied, stroking his chin. “I could tell you, but you’d forget by turn two. Colton, you’ve gotta go past Thicket, right?”
Colton stopped in the open door, the bag swinging along his side while he held the six-pack at his chest. He had that same look in his eyes as when Leigh had tried to introduce herself all those years ago. And just like when they were kids, he didn’t answer on the first question.
“Can you lead her there?” Leon asked.
“The spring game’s on. Kickoff’s in an hour,” he said, his voice like a forgotten melody to her ears.
