Chapter 4
Christy stopped at Ruby’s Diner for a late breakfast but, more importantly, coffee. After she ate, she felt slightly more human. She felt better physically but still felt bad about her run-in with Dean and how she treated him. When she went back to collect her car later, she would look for him to apologize. In the future, she would behave like an adult and not let childish feelings from her past overtake her. She was in her thirties now for God’s sake, she needed to stop acting like a teenager! Christy was so deep in thought she didn’t notice the elderly couple approach her table.
“Christy, honey, is that you?” the man asked, his voice gravelly with age but thick with a deep southern drawl, like her father’s had been. She felt a lump form in her throat at the thought. She met his eyes, and vaguely recognized him.
“Yes, it is, Mr. uh...” she floundered for his name.
“It’s Bob, Bob Ingles? And my wife, June,” he rasped indicating to the woman standing next to him, her memory kicked in. Bob owned half of the Rusty Bucket Inn and Taylor owned the other half.
“Of course! How wonderful to see you again,” she gushed, jumping up to embrace them both. June held on to her and cupped her face.
“My dear, you look just like your mother, you could be twins. I do miss my Janey,” she said sadly, she released Christy’s cheek and gripped her hand tightly.
“We were so sorry to hear about your father, weren’t we, Bob?” Bob nodded in sad agreement.
“Oh, yes, very sad business. We hoped you would come home eventually before he passed, not like this though. Your father was missing you so much.”
Christy frowned, he was missing me?
“Anyway, dear, we best be on our way. We’ll see you for the funeral, if you need anything at all don’t hesitate to ask.” June gave her hand another tight squeeze, she had a strong grip for an old gal, and they left. Christy was mulling over their words as she grabbed her purse, paid her bill and left the diner. Could he really have missed her? Was that possible? Why didn’t he ever reach out if he did? Bob and June must have been mistaken. As she stepped outside the diner and onto the street she looked up and down, surveying the town. She spotted another familiar face coming out of the laundromat and hurried over.
“Rebelle!” she called, waving her arm. The woman struggling with her bag of laundry turned, her eyes wide with alarm. Her expression softened slightly when she saw Christy. She slung her bag of clothes over her shoulder, swaying slightly from the weight. As Christy took her in, she was surprised to see how little Rebelle had changed since school. She had the same short brown hair that fluttered about her delicate, pixie face, same warm brown doe eyes. She was still very delicate and petite, but looked a little too thin.
“Hey, Christy,” Rebelle said, sounding slightly nervous.
“How are you? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” She always liked Rebelle, they had been friends as teenagers, their bond had stemmed from tragedy as both their mothers had passed away around the same time. At school, they were subjected to pitying looks from the teachers and other students. One particular day Christy had escaped to the bathroom for a break from the constant outpouring of sympathy which she found smothering, and found Rebelle already hiding in there.
They talked and felt a freedom that came from having someone understand what they were going through. Rebelle had a twin sister, who was her only surviving family since Christy had heard her father passed away a few years ago. Christy wasn’t sure what had happened to the sisters since school but heard from Taylor that Rebelle married a few years back, soon after her father passed away.
“Yes, it has, what’s brought you back home?” Rebelle asked, avoiding Christy’s question.
“My father passed away,” Christy replied, and Rebelle blanched.
“I’m so sorry. How are you coping?”
“A bit hit and miss, we had such a complicated relationship so it feels a bit strange, like I’m not sure how I should be feeling.” Rebelle was one of the very few people who knew all about Christy’s relationship with her father and one of the few who would understand the emotions.
“I would love to catch up with you and talk, I could come round sometime?” Christy asked, eager to spend time with her old friend. Rebelle looked at her, slightly wary. Christy realized she put Rebelle on the spot, they hadn’t spoken for over fifteen years and she just invited herself around.
“Or, I’m going to be at the Bucket tonight if you want to join me for a drink?” she tried again, Rebelle was silent for a moment.
“Yeah, okay, I’ll see you later then,” she replied with a small smile and turned to leave.
“It really is great to see you,” Christy called after her, Rebelle turned back and nodded.
“You too, Christy.” Then she was gone. Christy felt a bit weird after their encounter, maybe too much water had passed under the bridge and Rebelle wasn’t interested in catching up. Maybe she’s just shy? Either way, Christy would find out later tonight. She turned and headed off to the general store to pick up a few things and then went back to the garage feeling a sense of trepidation about seeing Dean again. Underneath the trepidation was a sliver of excitement that she tried to ignore.
When she arrived, she saw her car parked in the lot at the front of the garage. She walked past it, headed inside and found Bear under the hood of another car. She glanced back to the office where Dean had previously been, but it was empty. She moved her gaze around the rest of the garage, trying to be subtle yet failing miserably.
“He’s not here,” Bear gruffed out, now facing her.
“Oh, uh, I was looking for you,” she lied, smiling at him sweetly. He stared at her for a moment, then wandered over to the office and went inside. He came back out a minute later and held out her keys.
“She’s all ready to go,” he said, she took the keys from his giant paw.
“Amazing, thank you so much for fixing her and giving her a service.”
Bear shrugged, “The boss ended up doing the work.”