“Damn, El. I didn’t know you were so picky!”
I laugh.
“I guess we could always track down Lo—”
“Don’t you dare say his name,” I nearly yell, cutting her off. I haven’t seen him since he left for college without me when we were eighteen.
He’s the one that got away. The real love of my life. The one that left for the college that we were both supposed to attend—that is, until my mom got sick and I had to stay home to run the store. I was to join him the following year, but we lost touch. The calls between us dwindled down to nothing. The letters stopped coming, and the visits never came through. The worst part is, I don’t even know why.
“It’s been years, El. I don’t think saying his name is like Beetlejuice or anything. He’s not going to magically appear if I say it out loud,” she points out.
“Well, I never thought I’d be forty, with my only child about to leave home, and going through a divorce either, but here I am, Lisa!” Okay, I may be a little irritable at the moment.
She laughs, knowing not to take my tone as serious as it sounds. “You don’t even know that. Tom isn’t home yet. Just… calm down and see how the evening goes. Enjoy your daughter’s graduation.”
Easier said than done. But the one thing I can do is control my thoughts. I push myself up off the stool and move to the back to start on the orders that need to go out today. I can’t control what’s going on in my life, but I can control these arrangements and I can control my thoughts. Staying busy is the best option at this point.
I turn the radio on and get busy, listening to the old ’90s alternative station on Pandora as I gather the needed materials for the day. I go through my checklist and have everything out and ready. I get to work, singing along with all my favorite songs and keeping everything outside of this room out of my head.
By lunch, I almost feel normal again. I put things away and head back out onto the sales floor. Lisa is behind the counter, dusting. There isn’t much to do around here if you’re not making arrangements or waiting on a customer.
“I’m going to grab a salad for lunch. Want anything?”
“Oh, make it two. And a glass of wine wouldn’t hurt,” she jokes.
I laugh. “There’s a six-pack back in the cooler,” I say, walking out the door and heading across the square for the diner.
Two
Logan
I can’t believe I’m doing this—going home after twenty-two years. It’s something I said I’d never do, not after ruining the lives of everyone I knew. I look down at the letter in my hand from the city of Herrin, Illinois. It states that if my father’s property, now mine, isn’t dealt with soon, they will have no choice but to condemn it and tear it down. I haven’t been in that house since I left it at the age of eighteen. I can’t help but think back on the last day.
“Please don’t cry, El.” I raise my hands and cup her cheeks, wiping her tears away with my thumbs.
She nods and forces a smile. “It’s just so unfair. I was supposed to be going with you. This was supposed to be our new start.”
I pull her against my chest. “I know, but it won’t change anything, baby. I promise, I’ll wait for you. We’ll talk every day. We can send each other love letters. And Tom will still be here if you need anything. He’s my best friend. You can trust him just like you do me. In a year, you’ll come to school, and it will be like no time at all has passed.”
“Promise?” she asks, looking up at me with her big blue eyes full of tears.
“I promise. I love you, El. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.” I lean in, pressing my mouth to hers, and she kisses me like I’m the air she needs to breathe.
Pulling away from her and getting behind the wheel is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I manage. I have no choice. My dad’s health isn’t doing good, and I need this degree to take over his business. He’s counting on me. Not to mention, El will need someone to take care of her too. Getting this degree is the first step at getting my future with her.
I shake the memory from my head, cursing myself at how wrong I was. I didn’t know the future that I would get. I didn’t know I’d end up here, alone at forty and still desperately in love with my high school sweetheart, the girl I left behind. She never did come to school, not that I know of anyway. Hell, she could’ve, but I would have already been gone. Truth be told, I haven’t even talked to her since my father passed away three months after I left for college. He didn’t make it long and neither did I.
The bus stops at the center of town and I climb off, almost expecting something to change, but everything looks the same as the day I left. The town square still has its big white gazebo in the center with all the little shops and restaurants scattered around it. This town really does look like it’s taken from a picture in a storybook with its perfectly planted flowers, school spirit decorations, and little shops. It was something I hated growing up.
I hike my duffel bag up higher on my shoulder and push onward, not wanting to run into anyone from my past. I’m sure that will only bring up the question: where have you been? And that’s not something I’m really prepared to answer. If I owe anyone an answer to that question, it’s El.
I walk past the diner, peeking inside to see the older citizens of town in there, having their morning coffee, eating their donuts, and reading the morning paper that probably contains nothing but good news. I pass the antique store and see Mrs. Mary through the window and behind the counter. I’m surprised she’s still alive. She had to be close to a hundred when I left. But she sees me and her smile falls. Her eyes watch as I move across the window and out of sight. I’m sure she’s surprised to see me back here. Then I walk by the flower store that El’s mother owned. I peek in the window but find a woman I don’t recognize. I’m sure El probably sold it after her mother passed so she could get on with her life.
I round the corner and can breathe a little easier now since I haven’t run into anyone. I keep walking down the sidewalk that leads to the house I grew up in. I find it funny and strange that nothing in this town has changed over the years. All the houses are the same as I remember them. They all have perfectly manicured lawns, flags flying in their front yards, and white picket fences. All of them except this house, my dad’s house.
I come to a stop on the sidewalk and turn to face it. I look it over, noticing how rundown the place has become. The yard is overgrown with weeds, the wooden privacy fence in the backyard has a section that’s already fallen down, and the flowers and scrubs that used to line the walkways are dead or grown out of control. The old tree in the front yard has a broken branch that’s now lying in the grass, and the garage door is hanging on by one hinge. It’s amazing the place doesn’t have any broken windows or any other signs of vandalism, but this is the perfect town after all.
I walk up to the front door, kicking rocks and weeds out of the way of the sidewalk. I bend down and pick up the small concrete turtle, finding the key just where I’d left it.
“Huh.” I laugh and place the turtle back in its spot. I open the screen door, and it squeals in protest. I make a mental note to oil it later as I slide the key into the doorknob. The door opens inward, and the smell of dust, mildew, and old house fills my nose. I go to step inside, but the screen door decides to give out, its bottom hinge breaking. I catch the door, now only hanging by the top hinge, and pull it closed. With a sense of dread and sadness, I journey though the old house that used to be called home.