Page 31 of Scrape the Barrel
13
Sage
Iwas wearing leggings and an old t-shirt I got from a brewery in Portland—definitely not dinner apparel—but I got the feeling that the Bronsons didn’t care what you wore as long as you showed up and had a smile on your face. They were so laid back and welcoming. It was a contrast to how I’d grown up.
My father left before I was born and my mother wasn’t very present in the terms that she was always off with boyfriends and never home for me. I was an only child and took care of myself once I was able to. It was a miracle I survived with how careless she was, but I had my grandmother to thank for that. With her old age, there was only so much she could do with a young child, but she did her best with me, and I was thankful for every moment of it.
But you know the sayingthe apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? I guess you could say that about my relationship with men compared to my mother’s.
I’d always dated nice boys, but something about the edge in Avery’s father made my heart rush, and that made me fall for him harder than the rest. But instead of falling into it, I should’ve run from it. From him.
I found out all too late.
He stuck around after Avery was born, but he was in no way loving after she came into our lives. Fatherhood was scary for any new dad, but Jason took it to the extreme. I’d expected him to help raise Avery, but he was rarely home, and if he was home, it was never pleasant.
I hid as much of it as I could from Avery, but thankfully, he was finally arrested when she was two and a half, so she remembered very little.
For a while after he was locked away, I still flinched at every sudden movement and triple checked the locks on the house every night. Because I was the reason he was put in prison, I could never be too sure that we were safe.
Safe was all I wanted for my little girl, and sometimes, I couldn’t help but feel like I put her in a situation that was anything but.
We moved towns after he was arrested, landing in Bell Buckle and making a life here, but I feared that when he was released in two years, he’d somehow find us. No one in my past life knewwhere Avery and I were. It was for the best. But even so, those racing thoughts hit me all too often.
What if he came looking?
What if he took her?
Or worse, what if he was still mad?
I frequently had nightmares, my head conjuring up scenarios of all the what ifs. It wasn’t enough that I lived my life in fear—he had to visit me in my sleep, too.
I snapped out of my thoughts, focusing on Callan chopping asparagus behind the counter. I was sitting at the kitchen island while Bailey and Lettie were outside with Avery. Charlotte was on the back porch, barbecuing the chicken breasts for dinner.
“Avery’s loving the riding lessons,” I started, not sure what else to talk about.
Callan laid the asparagus on a baking sheet beside the cutting board. “I’m glad.”
I pursed my lips, poking at a crumb on the counter with my finger.
It was never this hard to strike up a conversation. I did it every day at my job, so why was this so difficult?
“Why have you never come to the cafe before?” I asked.
He set the knife down, rinsing his hands under the faucet. “I prefer to make coffee at home.”
“We don’t just sell coffee,” I stated.
He dried his hands on a rag, eyeing me. “You don’t say?”
I frowned. “If you don’t like pastries, why’d you use that as part of our agreement?”
“I never said I don’t like pastries.” He draped the hand towel over the handle on the oven, then grabbed the olive oil from the pantry.
“So it’s something against the cafe,” I surmised.
“Didn’t say that either.” He drizzled the oil over the asparagus and shook the sheet to toss them lightly.
“You’re not saying much of anything.” I hated being the only one making conversation right now. It felt like the spotlight was on me, and I could feel my hands getting clammy.
