Reining Her In

by Katie Ashley

  While I was busy outwardly cleaning my myself, my mind was still sullied with the memories of what else had transpired. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t scrub myself of the image of seeing Declan again. Or what I imagined was the image of me lying face first in cow shit. I was pretty sure I was never going to be able to cleanse myself of the horror that was our encounter.

  Once I finished my shower, I wrapped a towel around my hair. After hoisting my suitcase on the closet toilet lid, I pulled out a mid-knee black skirt and paired it with a black silk blouse. If you took a peek in my luggage, you would surmise I was either in mourning or paying homage to the man in black aka Johnny Cash.

  As I was drying my hair, Becca came in with a fresh cup of coffee. “I thought you might need this.”

  I smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “Aw, you’re too good to me.” After taking the cup from her, I inhaled of the delicious brew before gulping down a fiery sip. “Mm,” I murmured in pleasure.

  “I know it’s not your usual.”

  “My usual?” I questioned.

  “You know, one of those fancy latte things from Starbucks.”

  Ah, there it was. The old city girl who was a coffee snob stereotype. As close as we were, there were sometimes I got the impression Becca somehow felt inferior to me. Since we both got a college education and we were both professionals, I could only imagine it had something to do with the fact I lived in Atlanta and not Hayesville.

  “For your information, I don’t drink highbrow coffee.”

  Becca’s surprise was evident. “You don’t?”

  “Nope. I usually make my own at home or drink what they make at work.”

  “Interesting.”

  With a smile, I said, “I’m not as citified as you think.”

  Becca grinned. “Maybe.”

  As I fluffed and styled my hair, we fell into silence. After a few seconds, I shook my head at her reflection in the mirror. “I can’t believe he’s gone, Becs.”

  With a sniffle, she replied, “It’s unreal.”

  I couldn’t help the sob that left my throat, because being here, being in the arms of my family, just made it so much more real. We clung to each other, and it felt so good to be held by someone who loved you unconditionally. Who grieved with you, and understood the pain you felt through every bone in your body.

  “When was the last time you saw him?” I asked.

  Becca pulled away a little, trying to compose herself. This sucks ass.

  “On Sunday on church. He was his normal self.”

  “Strong and resilient as hell,” I chuckled.

  Becca grinned. “Exactly.” She grabbed a tissue from the decorative container on the sink. After dabbing her eyes, she said, “There was no warning. But in some ways, I’m glad too. I can’t imagine watching him slowly die like we did with Grandma.”

  “Yes, I thought that, too. I know it’s so sudden and so out of the blue, but I am glad he didn’t suffer.” Papa would have hated that and not deserved it either. I took a deep breath and tried to put on a brave face. I didn’t want to be a basket case when I saw my parents.

  Winking at Becca, I said, “Speaking of Grandma, it’s time I put on my face.” Our grandmother was one of those women who never went out in public without her hair perfectly coiffed or her makeup on. She often told Becs and me, “If you have to leave the house without putting your face on, you make sure to at least paint your lips to make sure you have some color.”

  “Yes, please don’t disgrace the Beasley name.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  As I pulled my makeup bag out of my suitcase, Becca back into the bathroom and closed the door. I threw a glance at her over my shoulder. “What’s with the closing the door? Are you afraid for BLANK to see me without my face on?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that.”

  I tilted my head at her. “Then what is it?”

  “How does it feel being back home again?”

  With a laugh, I replied, “I’m not sure I can accurately answer that question considering I’ve only been here three hours, Becs.”

  Becca nibbled on her bottom lip. “You know what I meant.”

  “Right. You want to know how I’m handling finally being in the same zip code as Declan.” Now it was my turn to nibble on my lip. You could say it was a family trait. Papa did the same thing whenever he was surveying a difficult case. At Becca’s earnest expression, I sighed. “There’s something I didn’t tell you about delivering the calf.”

  “What?”

  “I delivered the calf out at Roy Wallace’s.”

  Becca’s dark eyes widened. “Isn’t the Wallace farm next to the St. James property?”

  “Yep. It is.”

  “Did you see Declan?”

  “Oh yeah, I saw him.”

  Sweeping her hand to mouth, Becca gasped. “What happened?”

  I wanted so much to be able to tell her I held my cool. That I merely ignored his presence. That I had showed Declan I had matured into the ten years since I’d seen him. In the end, I couldn’t lie to my sister. “I face planted into a pile of manure, which he pulled me out of.”

  Horror came over Becca’s face. “Oh Peyton.”

  “Yep. That pretty much sums it up.”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Yeah, I know. It wasn’t how I saw things going down between us when I finally saw him again.” As I downed a hot gulp of coffee, I wish it was laced with whiskey. “At least I told him off.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. I sure did. Of course, I’m sure it would have come off a lot more bad ass if I hadn’t been reeking of cow shit.”

  Sighing, Becca leaned back against the bathroom door. “I wish I had some words of wisdom or comfort, but you’ve pretty much floored me.”

  “Trust me, I get it.” I ran my fingertip over the mouth of the coffee cup as I contemplated asking the one question that was burning in my mind. Over the years, my parents never willingly volunteered information about Declan. Becca was the one who kept me in the loop. She’d been the one to break it to me when Declan had gotten engaged five years ago. The weekend of his wedding she’d come to Athens to be my DD after I got shitfaced. While the engagement had been hard, the wedding had stung worse. I think it was knowing he could marry another woman but not me. It had been equally painful a year later when I’d heard he’d had a child. A son.

  Biting the bullet, I asked, “How are he and Bailey doing?”

  “They’ve been separated since right after Christmas. Rumor is they’re finally getting a divorce.”

  Whirling around, I narrowed my eyes at Becca. “He’s been separated that long, and you didn’t tell me?”

  “You were with Brady and doing well. I didn’t want to dredge all that shit back up.”

  With a groan, I replied, “Brady and I’ve been over for six months. Hearing bad news about Declan would have cheered me up.”

  Becca held up her hands. “I’m sorry. It just slipped my mind.”

  “Apparently, it slipped everyone’s. Mom and Dad didn’t mention it, nor did Papa.”

  “Maybe we hoped that after all this time, you didn’t need to hear anything about him because you were over him.”

  Ignoring her expectant gaze, I bent over to take my makeup bag out of my suitcase. When I righted myself, I stared defiantly at her reflection. “I am over him.”

  Cocking her head at me, Becca gave me a look. “Are you?”

  “Yes. I am.”

  “You just freaked out and face-planted in cow manure over him.”

  My eyes bulged. “A cow kicked me.”

  “Probably because your arm tensed because you were freaking out.”

  “Whatever.” Focusing on my reflection in the mirror, my fingers worked furiously to blend in the makeup. After a few moments, I caught Becca’s eye in the mirror. With a sigh, my shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I’m not over him. After ten years and what fee
ls like a lifetime apart, he still has the ability to wound me.” I threw a glance at her over my shoulder. “Happy?”

  “I could never be happy hearing you’re in pain,” she countered.

  And I knew that. No one supported me or had my back more when it came to Declan than Becca. As tears filled my eyes, I shook my head. “God, I hate myself. What kind of asshole am I to be back home for my grandfather’s death and getting all emotional about the bastard who jilted me?”

  “You’re not an asshole.” At my skeptical look, Becca added, “You’re human. We can’t always control our feelings. All we can do is try to control out behavior.”

  Swiping my eyes, I nodded. “Right. Soldier on. Declan is out of sight and out of mind. Most of all, be strong for Papa.”

  “Exactly.”

  With a smile, I reached over to hug Becca. “Thanks, Little Sis.”

  “You’re welcome.” As she pulled back, love shone in her eyes. “More than anything in the world, Peyton, I want you to find someone who loves you as much as you deserve.”

  My chin trembled at her words. “Would you stop? I’m going to be a blubbering mess.”

  “Fine. How about a subject change?”

  “Works for me.”

  “Is there anyone you’re seeing back in Atlanta?”

  I groaned. “Jeez, kick me when I’m down why don’t you?”

  Becca giggled. “I had to ask.”

  “If you must know, my physical needs are being met by a young vet tech with a body like a Greek god.”

  “Very nice.”

  Wagging a finger at her, I said, “Before you ask, there’s no future for us.”

  Disappointment flickered in Becca’s eyes. “Are you absolutely sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “I think city men are wrong for you. Maybe you’ll find your prince right here in Hayesville.”

  I snorted. “Oh, my sweet summer child,” I chided.

  At the reference to our favorite show Game of Thrones, Becca grinned. “Stranger things have happened.”

  “Unless there’s been a huge influx of new Hayesville residents, I don’t see it happening.”

  “Scoff if you like, but I’m not giving up on the idea.”

  “Fine. Just promise me you won’t try to play matchmaker during Papa’s viewing and introduce, or reintroduce since this is a small town, me to anyone.”

  “Please, I’m not that uncouth.” With a wink, she added, “I’d only slip him your number.”

  Staring up at the bathroom ceiling, I replied, “Kill me now.”

  Chapter Five

  The next two days saw a proper and respectful send off for Papa. From the scribbled signatures in the funeral home ledger and the long lines during the viewing, the town of Hayesville really stepped up to show their love and appreciation. Their love also came in the form of Mom and Dad’s kitchen table and counters overflowing with homemade cakes and casseroles. As a minister’s daughter, I had a sixth sense on how to spot the tastiest desserts. Whenever an impeccably dressed church lady arrived with an offering, I mentally catalogued the plate. In my experience, the bigger the hair, the better the food. There was just something about teasing your hair to the heights of glory while cementing it in place with a can of Aqua Net that made you a better cook.

  In a matter of forty-eight hours, I came in contact with practically everyone I had spent a decade away from. People seemed genuinely glad to see me. Although it pained me to admit it, I was glad to see them too. Well, at least under the circumstances. Dare I say that I had missed them? Like Mrs. Neighbors my first-grade teacher or Howard Ross who managed the Piggly Wiggly. Most knew what I’d been up to because of my parents and Papa. I did notice a couple of the town gossips eyeing my left hand to see if I was engaged. To their credit, they didn’t ask if I had a boyfriend. Thankfully, I appeared to be old news now.

  Of course, all the sweet words and goodwill in the world couldn’t have prepared me for the moment I turned to see Robert and Pauline St. James before me. My lungs compressed and all the air in my chest whooshed out of me at the sight of almost mother- and father-in-law. They’d been so kind and supportive of Declan and me when we were dating. Their support continued after he jilted me. For the first few years after the breakup, I received a care package at college from them. Like the good Southern girl I was, I always sent them a thank-you note, but I never gave them much more than my gratitude.

  After we all stood there staring and blinking at each for a few seconds, Pauline gave me the most Southern of greetings: she hugged me. Even though so many years had passed, I still remembered what it felt like to be in her embrace. As she pulled back, I saw tears sparkling in her eyes—the very crystal blue ones Declan had inherited from her. “While I’m so terribly sorry about Harris, it really is so good to see you, Peyton.”

  When I finally managed to find my voice, I said, “It’s nice to see you, too.”

  Since Robert had never been much of a hugger, we merely shook hands. “My deepest condolences.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Nana,” a tiny voice whined from somewhere behind the St. James’s.

  Surprise filled me when a panicked look flashed on Pauline’s face. Before she could say anything, a dark-haired little boy peeked out from behind Pauline’s waist. Once again, I fought to breathe because I saw Declan in that face. I’d grown up with that face since we’d gone to elementary school together. Because of that fact, I didn’t have to ask Pauline who he was.

  I knew.

  He was Declan’s son. In an alternate universe, he could have been my son. The child Declan and I conceived in love within the confines of our marriage. An agonizing series of images flashed before my mind. Declan rubbing my swollen belly. Declan squeezing my hand as he spoke words of encouragement as a contraction wracked my body. Declan and I watching him learn to crawl and then walk.

  Since I was a little girl, I’d always wanted to be a mother. In spite of wanting to be a vet, I always imagined I’d be a mother by now. For some reason, the emptiness of my womb seemed particularly agonizing tonight. Maybe it was because the sting of grief already encompassed me, and when coupled with seeing my former fiance’s son and imagining what could have been, it became unbearable.

  Realizing I’d been staring for too long, I whipped my gaze back to Pauline. She appeared almost apologetic. Like she knew seeing him would be painful for me. “Normally, we wouldn’t have brought him, but his daddy had to go check on a job over in Cleveland today. He wasn’t going to be back in time to get him.” In any other situation, I would have found it comical she couldn’t even bring herself to say Declan’s name in front of me.

  “I thought Greer was getting you a drink,” Pauline said to the little boy.

  “She did, but then she went to talk to her friends.”

  Pauline pursed her lips. “Greer is Danielle’s oldest daughter,” she explained. The mention of Danielle took me back to my past. She was Declan’s oldest sister, and she’d been one of my bridesmaids.

  Waving my hand absently, I said, “Oh, it’s fine. Mama had me at the funeral home when I was half his age.”

  I’m pretty sure Pauline didn’t buy my avoidance. Instead, she bent down and took the little boy’s hand. She eased him out from behind her. “Camden, can you say hello to Miss Peyton?”

  After staring up at me, Camden buried his face in Pauline’s waist. “Hi,” he finally said, his voice muffled.

  “Hi there.” Bending down, I smiled at Camden. “Your daddy and I were friends a long time ago.”

  He instantly perked up. “You were?”

  “We sure were.”

  Robert and Pauline appeared both relieved and touched that I had taken the high road. I’m not sure why they would have expected anything different from me. They knew me well enough that even in my grief, I wouldn’t have taken out what Declan did to me on his son.

  “It was Peyton’s grandpa who took such good care of Bentley.” Pauline smiled at me. “A
fter we lost Buckley, we got a puppy who looked just like him. Of course, we had to take him to Harris. No one was a better vet than he was.”

  As sweet memories of the St. James’s Golden Retriever, Buckley, filled my mind, I nodded. “He certainly was the best.”

  “From what we’ve heard, you’re not so bad yourself,” Robert said.

  Smiling at his compliment, I replied, “While I learned from the best, I’m not sure anyone is better than Papa.”

  “We sure are going to miss him,” Pauline added while Robert nodded.

  “Thank you. We’re going to miss him as well.”

  Only a moment of awkwardness silence passed before my mother hopped out of line to barge in front of me. “Pauline, Robert, thank you so much for coming.”

  I’m sure she thought she was saving me, but I was fine. At least I thought I was. I was glad Becca had spilled the beans about Declan’s son before tonight. It would have far worse to have had his existence sprung on me when I stood three feet from Papa’s casket.

  With the “Ghosts of My Almost In-Laws Past” now away from me, I turned my attention to the next mourner. But for the rest of the night, I couldn’t get Camden’s face out of my mind. When I thought of him, I inadvertently thought of Declan.

  In the end, it was just too emotionally taxing. I knew if I didn’t get out of there and get some fresh air, I was going to lose it. Even though there was still a line of mourners, I mumbled my apologies before powerwalking out of the room. I nodded hello to several people in the hallway. Instead of heading out the front where I might run into more people, I sprinted towards the back.

  As I blew out onto the back stoop, I knocked into someone. “Oh, excuse me—”

  At the sight of Declan standing in front of me, I froze. Just like in Roy Wallace’s pasture, I became a perfect Peyton statue.