Page 35 of Run to Me
I get to have a new start. It’s a second chance. I should be happy and relieved to be far away from all the bad memories—to be away from my dad—but I’m also far away from my best friend, and I still feel like I need him every day. Those smiles. His contagious laugh. His silly lists and random plans for us. He doesn’t need me, though.
“Lunch is on the table,” Aunt Rachel shouts, and I wave her way to let her know I heard her. Otherwise she’d continue screaming her head off. A slight breeze wraps around me and I stride toward the house, offering my skin some relief from the sun. The summers are hot here but not as hot as in Texas. I didn’t mind spending my days out in the sun when Nate was there to jump in the lakes and springs with me. The only water to take a dip in around here are the ponds, though, and there’s nothing like fish nibbling at your feet when you go for a quick swim to cool off.
“Just about done for the day?” Rachel swats at a bug and I nod.
“Yeah.” I squint when the sun creeps into my eyes too much and I follow her into the house. “I don’t have much left to do but I’ll get it taken care of after I eat.”
“I’m sure you will. You got a phone call while you were out.” My aunt and uncle are some of the very few people with a landline. No one ever calls for me on it either, so I’m a bit taken aback by her words.
“Yeah?” I take off my hat, setting it on the hook, and leave my muddy boots by the door.
“Yup. Your brother. He asked me to have you call him back. Wanted to see how you are.”
“He has my cell number.” I head for the table and my aunt shakes her head, nodding at the sink for me to wash my hands.
Chuckling, I oblige, and she starts talking again.
“Yes, but you aren’t answering it. At least he says you aren’t. Any particular reason why?”
Why won’t you just move on without me Nate? I can’t if you can’t, and you need to. It’s for your own damn good.
Cold water mixes with the soap on my hands, creating suds as I rub them together. “I must be getting them when I don’t have service. I haven’t seen any come through.”
She casts a glance at me, lifting a brow. She’s much harder to lie to than my mom and dad were. “Mhm.”
“I haven’t, Auntie. I swear.”
Her lips smack together. “You can keep lying to me all you want but you can’t lie to yourself.” She points her finger at me, tucking her shirt into her apron. “Now go eat before the food gets cold.”
“It’s sandwiches,” I say, pulling out a chair.
“And I said what I said. Eat.” Her eyes harden when she glances out the window. “Where’s that uncle of yours?”
“He was out on the tractor,” I say, sitting down in front of a plate holding my favorite chips. My aunt was sure to get them during every grocery trip. I’m very spoiled here and I’ve never once felt like a burden. I think my aunt likes having someone to take care of and my uncle appreciates having cheap help. He talks about me taking over the farm for him someday, saying I was made for it. Maybe he’s right. No one’s ever had so much confidence in me before. No adult at least.
“He’s going to run himself ragged one day by going so dang long without eating or drinking.”
“I think he already has,” I deadpan, and she laughs, bringing a pitcher of lemonade over to the table.
“You might be right. That man can barely make it through an episode of his favorite show these days, and they’re only thirty minutes long.”
My uncle loves his true crime. I’ve caught him listening to podcasts while brushing the horses. Last time we were in the stall together, he took off his headphones and hooked his phone up to a Bluetooth speaker so I could listen too. I fell asleep to one last night, waking up thinking I was being strangled when my wired headphones wrapped themselves around my neck. I hate the wireless earbuds because of how easily they slip out of my ears, but I might come around to them soon.
My aunt talks about the weather and the new sheep my uncle has to pick up tomorrow. I plan on going with him so we can stop by the bookstore on the way because reading on my phone is becoming a chore. I used to share Nate’s Kindle with him. I also really miss touching real book pages and enjoy grabbing a tea after my purchase.
“What are you reading these days anyway?” My aunt fiddles with her napkin.
“Thrillers. Suspense.” I answer between bites of my food, dabbing my face with a napkin when mustard drips down the corner of my mouth.
“You’re turning into your uncle,” she laughs.
Smiling around a chip, I nod and reach for my cup. “Yeah. I guess he’s rubbing off on me a little.” I like having someone who’s a good influence to take after. My mom’s husband was a good man and treated me well, but we never really bonded over anything. He always seemed worried about saying the wrong thing, tiptoeing around me like he was walking on thin ice. Andwell, my real dad was no one I ever wanted to model after. What I do in my dreams is not who I am, and I need to keep telling myself that, even though a part of me is scared of being wrong.
“You’re not your dad,”I remember Nate saying. I might not be able to hold on to him but I can carry his words with me everywhere I go—and I do. Out in the barn, in the pastures, on the tractor, at the bookstore where the coffee shop clerk sometimes flirts with me, and as I fall asleep at night.
“Well, as long as you don’t end up as stubborn then I think you’ll be just fine.” She winks, clearing off the table.
I help her, tossing my trash and setting my dishes in the dishwasher. After I call my uncle to come eat and drink something, I bottle feed the babies and fish in the pond until the sun begins to set. Nate would love it out here. All the large moss trees and the way the sun shines down on the water. He’d lay back beside me on the dock, telling me how beautiful the view is, and all I’d be able to see is him.
