Page 82 of Every Thought Taken

Much as I’d love to share why I’ve smiled more in the past few days than I have in the past year, my lips are sealed. The selfish part of me wants more undiluted time with Anderson. If I tell Lessa the reason for my better mood, I will never hear the end of her questions.

Plus, I’d like to break the news when Anderson is in the room. We’d incur her inundation better as a team.

Team.I love that word on my mental tongue.

I shrug a shoulder. “I appreciate that.”

The bell between the kitchen and service alley dings as August calls out an order number. Lessa shuffles down the line and grabs the small box with Becca’s sandwich. Popping it in a brown bag, she takes my scone from the carrier, sets it in the bag, and folds down the top.

“Still on for Friday?”

Picking up the drink carrier and bag, I step back from the counter. “Of course.”

“Maybe we’ll hit up On Tap.”

“Mmm. Onion rings.”

She laughs. “Love you.”

I head for the door, twisting to call over my shoulder, “Love you too.”

CHAPTER46

ANDERSON

Iwant to be more of a people person, but the struggle is real. The crowds, the noise, the constant go-go-go energy—they make me itchy. Everyone is always in your face, asking personal questions and touching you without permission. The endless invasion of personal space and privacy, like it’s their right to know or own every piece of your life.

I may have grown up in Lake Lavender, but this small town is not the same place I left.

“Stay,” Ales pleads. “At least an hour.”

My molars grind as I scan the bar and grill. According to the sign outside, a live band is playing tonight. If you spend ten dollars, you get to stay during the entire set without paying a cover. This is a change I can get behind. Just wish the place wasn’t at max capacity.

“Food and one hour,” I promise.

As it stands, I have no room to complain. Ales is giving me a free place to stay. Sure, I have my van and can drive to the outskirts of town to sleep, but I missed Ales. Her light-hearted nature and warm, vigorous hugs. Our occasional calls or texts appeased me for years, but as of recently, it wasn’t enough.

Plus, I have other relationships to sort out.

Mom and Dad haven’t been at the front of my mind in a long time. I chose to block them from my life and move forward without any communication. It took weeks for me to see how much they impacted my mental health. Mom always came across as loving and saying things tomake my life better. She once called it tough love. A love no one but me received. Dad had never been tough on me, but he’d also never stood up for me when harsh words spilled from her lips. Unbeknownst to him, he enabled Mom to be cruel on the sly.

I don’t know if my relationship with my parents is repairable, but I want to give it a chance. Time away might have done us all some good. I want to speak with and see my sister more often. We may be polar opposites, but her love for me has always been the same. Constant.

More than anything, I want to feel wanted. I want to feel loved. And now that I’ve had time to get to know myself better, I am ready to open up and start fresh.

Leaning into Ales, I ask, “Where’s the bathroom?”

She points to a short hallway in the back corner.

“Be right back. If the server comes back, a water, cheeseburger, and fries, please.”

She pats my shoulder. “I got you, Baby A.”

Sliding off the stool, I weave through the tall tops, shrinking away from flailing arms and dancing bodies. I step inside the bathroom, and thank goodness, it’s empty and clean. I teeter back until I hit the wall, the cool tile settling the building panic in my veins. After a few deep breaths, I use the urinal and wash my hands. With one last look in the mirror, I nod at my reflection.

You got this.

I make my way back to the table but stop short two tables away. Sitting on the stool next to mine is Helena. She hasn’t seen me yet. With a bright smile on her face, she talks with Ales and Braydon while sipping her drink. For a moment, I remain hidden behind other patrons and watch her.

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