Page 31 of Fall I Want
“I will. Love you. Thank you!”
“Love you! Good luck. I hope to meet him at Christmas.”
“I’m sure Mom would support that. It would be nice to have us all together.”
“I’m going to try. Bye!”
I end the call and move to the kitchen, pulling out the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. I made fresh pumpkin purée at the beginning of the week. During the season, I always have it in my fridge, waiting for me on reserve.
After I preheat the oven, I mix the dry ingredients together then beat the eggs and butter. Once it’s incorporated, I pour the batter into my loaf pan then bake it for seventy minutes. As I wait, I turn on some music and tidy my apartment, lost in my thoughts.
My sister is right. I have abandonment issues. Other than Julie and Blaire, allowing people into my life has backfired, so why should I even try? This could be a catastrophe, or it could be incredible. I guess it’s a flip of a coin.
While the bread cools, I dress in my running clothes and wrap the loaf in some paper, tying a ribbon around it before I write him a note. I shove it in my backpack then tighten the straps.
Then I grab the notebook with all the haikus.
You drive me crazy
Buried deep under my skin
Let’s see where it goes.
Ijog up the mountainside trail at a faster pace than usual. No one can be sad while eating still-warm homemade pumpkin bread. It’s impossible.
Making a new friend wasn’t on my bingo card this year, but maybe we both need this. While I still don’t believe I’m the best choice, sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways. Walking away from him at this point isn’t an option. That much is true.
Being with him today feels like a hazy dream, and it’s still going.
Once I’m at the top of the mountain, staring at Hollow Manor, I step out of the woods and walk across the soft grass. The sun shines up above as I approach the porch, then check the door. It’s locked.
He’s lucky because I would’ve walked inside and yelled his name, made my presence known.
Instead, I ring the doorbell and wait for him to answer. Five minutes pass.
Before I allow myself to think the worst and create an avoidance scenario that he may not deserve, I walk to the driveway, noticing the garage is open and empty.
Alex isn’t home.
A breath of relief escapes me because I’d assumed the worse. It’s something I have to stop doing. He deserves a fair chance.
I remove my backpack from my shoulders and pull out the plastic bag with the pumpkin bread and note inside. I tie it on his door and leave.
An hour and a half later, I climb the stairs to my loft and kick off my shoes, then walk to the shower. My place still smells like sweet sugar and I wish I had made a loaf for myself. He got the first one of the season. Lucky guy.
After I bathe, I wrap my hair in a towel then open the large window, allowing the fresh air in.
The light sound of music plays from Vinyl Vibes and chatter from tourists fill the streets.
I sit at the bench seat with big fluffy pillows that I turned into a reading nook last year. In the evenings, before the sun sets, I’m always here watching people while drinking cheap rosé. It’s my favorite wind-down time.
My breathing slows as my eyes scan up the mountainside and I see Hollow Manor in the distance, hoping Alex found my gift and note. It’s not like he could call me even if he did. Then I remember I never texted him.
I grab my phone and click on his name.
Alexander
Then I type out a message.
