Page 7 of A Vintage of Regret
"You actually smiled," Mateo said, flopping down beside her. He passed her a protein bar and cracked open his Coke, which he'd somehow managed to keep cold without the use of an icepack or even a small cooler. "Should I be concerned?"
"I always smile," she said dryly, took the bar, and ripped open the package. But it wasn't the first time someone had made a comment like that over the years. She'd been called quiet and a loner, and those two statements weren't false. She never stayed in one place too long, always searching for the next big adventure in a new country. She'd lived in all sorts of places over the last twelve years. Spain, Italy, Africa, Madagascar, Iceland, you name it, she'd probably spent time there. The longest she'd lived anywhere had been Alaska… nearly a year. But that had been when she'd first left home.
“No, you smirk. Or grin. Or tip the corners of your mouth upward in a lame attempt to be human.” Mateo tilted his head and did his best to demonstrate.
Oddly, it wasn’t too far off the mark, and it reminded her of her sister, Erin. When they’d been younger and Erin would babysit Riley, before all the bickering began, Erin would try to mimic the way others talked, or walked, or used hand gestures as a way to entertain Riley.
“That’s pathetic.” She took another bite of her bar and stared off at the mountains.
It had been a long time since she'd actually thought of Stone Bridge as home, but lately, that town—and her father—had been oddly tugging at her heart. She sipped her coffee and let her mind drift to the last conversation with her dad, only a week ago. Her father had sounded a little off—tired and frustrated—and that wasn't him. Even when his world was torn apart, he’d always viewed his life as a glass of water that was never quite full, but always full enough. Life hadn’t been easy for him. When her mom had cheated, he took the high road. He quietly left, letting the town believe he'd been the one to call it quits on his marriage.
The good people of Stone Bridge concluded he'd abandoned his wife. Just walked out of their life together for no real good reason, except maybe he was bored. A year later, her mother remarried the man she'd had an affair with. It killed Riley that there’d been no whispers about that. No chatter at the water cooler. That no one even questioned it. That no one knew, or if they had, they’d never openly discussed it.
Then again, Stone Bridge had been built on secrets, and people there knew how to keep them. They also knew how to spread lies.
"Yeah, well, I liked the smile. It was refreshing, unlike your usual grin. This one was more like 'maybe the world's not entirely terrible'. Very rare. Very endangered," Mateo said with a wink.
God, she loved Mateo. The longer she spent time with him, the more he’d become a true friend, and that was even rarer than her smile. She sucked in a deep breath, letting the cool air fill her lungs, leaned back, and soaked in the sky, the quiet, the sense of purpose she always felt at the end of a trip. Out here, she could just be. She didn't have to explain anything to anyone. She didn'thave to feel anything. She didn't have to relive the guilt, the grief, the pain of what she'd believed had been betrayal… but hadn't… until it was.
And she sure as shit didn't have to deal with her fucking family. At least her dad had stopped bringing up her siblings. Stopped asking her to make things right with Grant and Erin… and her mother. To come home. The only thing he constantly did was talk about the flipping winery… and freaking Bryson. Somehow, that was worse. Every time, the memories flooded her brain like an old silent movie, all fuzzy and faded, but they were there, rolling across her mind. And they wouldn't go away.
In the past, she pushed them aside when she'd been awake, only having to deal with them late at night when she struggled to fall asleep. She'd hike, canoe, white-water raft, zipline, or whatever other activity she was into that season, and not deal with the past, because it was in the rearview. Only, that mirror was always there, taunting her like a bad horror movie that played on a loop and wouldn't stop.
But none of it mattered.
She was doing the thing that would have destroyed her and Bryson, anyway. He was born to be one with the earth. To have his fingers in it. To grow wine. It was all he'd ever wanted to do. He'd never leave Stone Bridge, except to attend college, and he hadn't gone far.
She'd wanted out. She didn't care how it happened, but staying in that town was going to suffocate her. Destroy the very essence of who she was and who she wanted to become. She could feel the town suck the life right out of her, and that was the one thing Bryson hadn’t understood—even if he said he had.
The last few months they were together, they fought about it all the time. She'd planned on taking a gap year before college. She wanted to travel. To see the world.
He wanted her to go to college. To be with him.
And then it happened. It changed everything. She hadn't been ready for it. Neither had he, but it was there, and then it wasn't. She hadn’t been prepared for the emotions of either thing. It fundamentally changed her… forever.
"That's very poetic," she mused. "I'm simply contemplating my next move."
"Already? You just got here, and we’ve been having so much fun." He shook his head. "You Americans," he said with a laugh. "Where do you think you'll be off to, next?"
"I'm looking into doing Sea Kayak tours in New Zealand. Overnight ones, camping, and hiking trips. I hear it's beautiful there. I’d like to spend a few months on the South Island and possibly a few more on the North Island. I've got a few feelers out. Want to come?"
"Oh, you could twist my arm. I’d travel the ends of the world with… you." He blew her a kiss. "I've never been, but I did spend two years in Australia. Ayers Rock and Cains. It was amazing."
"I loved Ayers Rock." Her phone buzzed beside her.
She almost ignored it. The signal was spotty at best and rarely worth chasing. But the caller ID blinked across the screen—Stone Bridge, California—and everything in her stilled, including her pulse, until she sucked in a cold breath and her heartbeat went wild. It was just a number. No name. Not her siblings. Not her parents. No one she knew.
Mateo leaned over to glance at the screen. "Who's calling you from the States? Family? You never talk about them."
She gave a noncommittal shrug. "It's not a number I recognize." Even if it were, she wouldn't answer. Dealing with her family always needed to be done in private—with a nice shot of tequila.
"You gonna answer it?"
Riley let it buzz a few more times, then hit the decline button. "It's probably a scam or telemarketer. If not, and if it's important, they'll leave a message."
Mateo leaned back on the rock. "I don't mind if you take it."
"I don't take calls from people I don't know."
