The Way Back Home (Homecoming Novella)

by C. Lymari

  "Hey, Frankie," I greeted the cook and owner.

  There weren't many places to eat in Sunny Pines, and my family had been eating here for years. Frankie had watched me grow up.

  "I'm waiting for someone—"

  “Oh, I know. The boy couldn’t stop gushing about scoring a date with the pretties’ girl in town.”

  I blushed at his bullshit. He always called every woman the prettiest in town.

  “I’ll wait by the bar—”

  “Oh no you won’t. Come on, I have a secluded table for you. Since Pratt left this town like a thief, it doesn’t get much usage now.”

  I followed Frankie, not commenting on Freya’s disappearance. I didn’t know her like that. Her grandpa didn’t seem worried, so I guessed I shouldn’t be either.

  “Now, you order whatever you want while that boy gets here. I’m going to give him a whooping for making you wait.”

  I looked at Frankie, mortified. “That’s okay. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

  Dex was still a mystery, a newcomer, but he was nice. A little cocky with an aversion for small towns, but the way he looked at me… the way he looked at me was how I’d always hoped a guy would look at me one day.

  Five minutes turned into fifteen. Fifteen turned into forty-five, and at the hour mark, I felt like the most pathetic girl in the world. Grabbing a twenty, I left it on the table so I could get out of there before Frankie came back. That would more than cover the lemonade I drank and the basket of breadsticks I stress ate.

  It wasn’t until I got home that I cried because Dexter Hendrix stood me up.

  -

  “Jesus fucking Christ!”

  I snapped out of my own head for the second time. It was dark outside, and the only person in the store with me was Prescott Dunnett.

  A drunk Prescott.

  Max, I was used to, but Prescott? Never.

  "C-c-an I help you." I grabbed a ceramic mug in case I had to go Rapunzel on his butt.

  He eyed me and the way I protectively held on to the cup. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

  “Wh-wh-what?”

  “Nothing. Make me a fucking coffee. I need to get home.”

  “Aye, aye captain,” I sassed, not realizing I’d saluted him.

  Some of the scold left Prescott’s handsome face. It was there: a tiny, tiny little smile.

  “What are you waiting for?” he scolded again.

  “Um, what kind?”

  Prescott liked to change his drinks; I was pretty sure it varied based on his mood. I wasn’t 100% sure yet because he always had a stoic face.

  “Black. I just need to sober enough to get home.” He rubbed his palm over his face.

  Yeah, you need to detox first, buddy. I can smell alcohol all the way over here.

  Still, I turned around and did just that. When I turned back around, Prescott had dragged a stool in front of the counter. I gave him the warm mug and watched as he took a sip.

  “This is fucking strong,” he said, causing me to jump up. Okay, maybe I’d gone a little too far.

  "You're really drunk," was my witty response.

  Again, his lip somewhat twitched.

  “You remind me of my sister,” he said.

  I grimaced at the thought of being compared to Juliet Dunnett.

  “She’s not as bad as everyone makes her out to be. She’s sweet,” he defended.

  Yeah, crocodiles looked like they smiled, but I bet they weren’t sweet. Of course, I didn’t say that.

  Prescott drank his coffee and looked to the blackboard. He shook his head when he saw the quote of the day.

  “Great,” he sighed.

  “Great, what?” I asked out of curiosity.

  “My brother found a new way to pine since booze and pussy didn’t help him.”

  “I don’t know why you would think that,” I snapped.

  Not that I was trying to defend Max, but his feelings were his own. No one knew what kind of storm was going on in another person’s mind. No one should judge.

  “I’m surprised he went with Benediction,” Prescott slurred to himself.

  I knew I should tell him to leave, but he was drunk and…wounded. Besides, he was probably too drunk to remember this conversation tomorrow.

  “What should he have written?” I timidly asked.

  For a second, I thought I spoke too low, and he didn’t hear me, and I wasn’t about to repeat myself. Prescott took another sip, he almost looked sober.

  “‘I wish I had done everything on Earth with you.’" Prescott didn't slur this time. His words sounded loud because of the silence that followed.

  “You Dunnett boys sure love your Fitzgerald.”

  Prescott snorted. “We have to know all the classics. Paul wouldn’t stand for anything less.”

  Okay, I had no I idea what that meant, but I had to close, and spending the night getting insulted was not my idea of a good time. No matter if Prescott still looked like a male model—a very drunk male model.

  “Umm…” I started to say, but Prescott looked up at me, and his eyes pierced me with their haunted look. “I-I have to close.”

  He threw back the coffee like he probably did with his whiskey and left a hundred on the counter. “Keep the change.”

  At this rate, the Dunnett boys were going to pay for my early retirement.

  I watched him walk out and hated myself for what I was about to do. Hastily, I closed and ran out, throwing a tumbler and some muffins in a bag.

  I heard him before I saw him again. Ew. He was throwing up at the side of my store.

  “Are you okay?” I asked quietly.

  “Fuck!” he screamed.

  I jumped back.

  “Shit, I’m not going to fucking hit you,” he groaned.

  I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure of it.

  “You just scared me. Go home, Emma.”

  "Do you need a ride?"

  The rational side of me wondered what I’d just said. Hoochie Emma was thinking about how hot Prescott was.

  Prescott stared at me like he couldn't believe what I’d just said either. He was silent for a long beat, like he was contemplating it.

  “Let’s go,” he finally said.

  The drive to Prescott’s fancy house was quiet. When I turned to look at him, his eyes were closed, but his breathing was even. As I pulled up to his house, I wondered if I should shake him or let him be for a few more minutes. I just needed my sleep, man.

  “Um…” I started to say when he cut me off.

  "She's going to marry him." Prescott’s voice was hoarse, as if he’d just eaten sand.

  I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just looked at him.

  "She said yes to him. So close to…so close to this fucking date."

  Again, I didn't say anything. I had no clue what he was talking about.

  “The worst part is I could have had it all with her, and now I’m going to do exactly what my fucking father wanted. I’m going to marry Rachel because the only thing I have now is my business.”

  I stayed quiet because I couldn’t believe he was sharing this with me.

  “I could have had a family, and that would have been enough.” His voice broke at the end. Damn, whoever this girl was, he loved her. Then he turned to me. “Lesson number one, Goldie. If a man breaks one promise, he’s going to break them all.”

  That made me think of Dex and the way he made me believe that there was a possibility for us. We could have been together, but that was a lie. He chased me, and once he had me, he humiliated me.

  “Take this.” I gave him the mug full of coffee for tomorrow with a bag with muffins.

  Prescott didn’t say thank you. He just walked out and didn’t turn back.

  A few days later, news broke that Jana and Rusty were getting married. A few months after that, Prescott got married and Max started dating Abigail.

  People moved on.

  So, I took Prescott’s advice to heart and promise
d myself I wouldn’t trust a man who lied to me ever again. I had my town and my shop, and that was more than enough.

  6

  Dex

  Living in the big city wasn't everything I had hoped it would be. Sure, it was more prominent, and the excitement was there, but something was still missing. After my date with Emma, I got home to find a voicemail on my phone. There was a part of me that felt a little torn, but by the end of the night, I took the call and drove away to my interview. My future awaited.

  Now I had the type of job I've always wanted in the kind of city I always dreamed of protecting. Right now, my perfect job was boring the shit out of me — one thing I hated more than paperwork was stakeouts.

  Boring as shit.

  My gut tightened when I saw nothing but blonde curls. My head instantly turned to the woman walking by the car my partner and I were sitting in. Every. Single. Time. They got to me. I was living the American dream, wasn't I?

  "Hendrix, look." My partner pointed his finger at the complex we were watching, making me focus on something other than curly locks.

  The face would never match to the one I had on my mind. The man walking out was wearing a black hoodie wide enough to hide what he probably went to pick up. The bastard looked both ways and started to cross the street closer to where my partner and I were watching.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “Hell yeah,” I replied, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

  This right here made my decision to take the job offer much easier. The only downside was that Emma never texted me, so I didn’t get to explain that to her. I was sure she understood, though. I’d told her small towns weren’t for me.

  “We doing this or what?” I asked.

  My partner gave me an aggravated look. We were good. I didn’t know why he acted like I was an inconvenience. We’d been building this case for the last three months. When I got the job, I was ecstatic to get paired up with McCullough, he was a badass.

  "Don't get cocky, Hendrix,” he told me.

  "Let's go. He's going to get away, and we’ve been waiting two months for this," I replied, stepping out of our unmarked car.

  I didn't know what gave us away or if we’d had our cover blown and I hadn’t noticed, but our mark started to run. I began to run after him.

  "Hendrix!" my partner yelled.

  I ignored him. All I could think about was the hours we’d wasted sitting down and waiting for this asshole to make a move. We learned his habits only to come to a cold stop when we almost had him? Fuck that.

  I jogged every day, ate healthy, did cardio, and lifted weights. I was in much better condition than the guy I was about to arrest. I caught up to my mark in no time.

  "Milwaukee PD!" I yelled once he was close enough to hear me. "Stop where you are and raise your hands in the air."

  The man in the hoodie stopped, not because he wanted to, but because we were at the end of the alley. It wasn't a brick wall; it was a chain-link fence. It seemed like he knew he wasn't fast enough to make it. When he turned around, I saw the smirk on his face. And, for the first time, I got goosebumps on my arms. I had a bad feeling about this. Keeping my eyes on my target, I slowly lowered my firearm so I could get my handcuffs.

  Son of a bitch. I wasn't fast enough.

  On the first shot, I saw her face the first time I saw her.

  On the second, I saw the way she looked at me that night at the water tower.

  And on the third shot, I went down. Before I closed my eyes, I realized how alone I was in this new city.

  7

  Emma

  "It's so—peopley." Jess, the new girl I hired a few weeks ago, cringed as the people of Sunny Pines started to gather around the kiosk. "I mean, would it kill them to walk inside the store? Why do we have to set up out here?"

  Even though she grumbled, she kept fixing the cups and napkins as I got to work displaying the cookies and muffins. Founder’s Day was a big deal around here. A lot of people from the county that were scattered all over northern Wisconsin showed up. Rumor had it that Prescott was going to announce his campaign for Mayor. The election was still two years away, but no one liked planning for the future like a Dunnett.

  After my last one-on-one with Prescott, we never spoke again. I didn’t think he remembered it was me who took his drunk butt home. Fine by me. He intimidated me, and the last thing I needed was his friendship.

  “I’m going to get a tan with the way the sun is shining,” Jess whined.

  Shaking my head, I looked at her. She was wearing a black long-sleeved shirt with holes so she could put her thumb through. She also wore baggy black jeans, making her pastel yellow apron look like a beacon. Total Wednesday Addams, or maybe Lizzie Borden.

  “It’s just for a few hours. Besides, we’re only serving the basics,” I said.

  I had just the three top flavored coffees, some hot chocolate, cookies, and muffins. Jess was kind of right; the town didn’t deserve my full plethora of goodies if they couldn’t be bothered to walk inside.

  "Whatever." Jess shook her head and went about working.

  It was busy the whole time. I had to run into the store to get more stuff because we ran out. This was great for business. I loved it when people came to Sunny Pines and had fun with our Founder's Day. It was all geared toward families. By the end of the night, Jess and I were super tired, and I was going to let her leave early.

  “Take the money and put it in the back,” I told Jess. This was the second time we took money into the store. Tips were going to be amazing.

  “I really think you need one of those alarms thingy’s…I don’t trust leaving the store open just like that.”

  “It’s Sunny Pines,” I said like it was all the answer in the world. Jess looked at me like she couldn’t believe I was the adult and her the teenager. The world had touched us in different ways; she didn’t see it the same way I did. Which was okay because we all had different paths to walk, I just prayed I somehow helped brighten hers.

  While Jess was gone, I was almost done taking my makeshift stand apart. I just wanted my bed and sleep. Lots of sleep. Maybe in a few months, I could afford to move out of my parents’ garage. That would certainly make me feel better. Hey, at least you have your own business. There was that, so I was at least getting that part of adulting right. Right?

  “You need any help?”

  I cursed when I heard Max’s voice. It wasn’t that I minded him. No one could hate Max, but his girlfriend, on the other hand? No thanks.

  “I got it,” I mumbled.

  Not that Max listened; he helped grab the tables I used for my makeshift counters.

  “Is this going to take long? We promised my mommy we’d be early for dinner.” Abigail gave me a once over, then flipped her buttery blonde hair over her shoulder with an eye-roll.

  “This won’t take long; wait for me by the car,” Max barely looked at her, although his tone was soft.

  Know what Abigail didn’t do? Wait by the car.

  We were about to open the door when Jess came running out her eyes full of fear; her face looked paler than before.

  "What's wrong?" I asked, alarmed.

  “I think someone’s in the store…I heard some shuffling in the back, but I didn’t want to go look. You have no bat, and I didn’t want to start throwing your mugs.”

  “Stay here,” Max said as he took out his cell phone.

  “You can go home, Jess,” I said as I followed behind Max.

  Jess gave me a shaky nod, but did as I said. It was a miracle she didn’t give me any sass.

  When I walked into my shop, Max was walking toward me from the back of the counter. His arm held a young boy around seventeen who was glaring at him. It was Quincy Hardwell, our very own little celebrity. I didn’t follow sports, but everyone knew he was going places.

  “What happened?” I walked up to them.

  Quincy looked at me, and I could have sworn I saw guilt behind those full lashes.

 
"I found him trying to steal this." Max held up my bank bag where I was storing today's money. Sure, it needed a key to be unlocked, but it wasn’t exactly Fort Knox. The fabric part of the bag could be cut with a half-decent pair of scissors.

  I knew the Hardwells; they were charming people. For the life of me, I couldn't fathom why Quincy would want to jeopardize his scholarship for a petty theft. Max was probably thinking along the same lines, because he didn't look happy.

  “The police are on their way.” Max sounded remorseful.

  My resolve in what to do came when the kid looked like he wanted to cry.

  “Max, Abigail is waiting for you. Go. I got this,” I said, not looking him in the eyes.

  He took a second to answer.

  “Sorry, kid. Sometimes our choices fuck us over, even years later.”

  Quincy and I watched Max go, neither of us making a comment on what he said. Quincy sat at one of the tables by the wall and slumped himself. Pulling the chair, I took the seat across from him.

  It was one thing being a teenager sitting across from the most popular boy at school and having a conversation with him. It was another being an adult and having a child's future in your hands. Frankly, it was scary.

  Here goes nothing.

  “Why did you try to rob me?” My voice wobbled.

  Shoot. I was not going to cry. Was I?

  Quincy’s head snapped up. “You’re crying?”

  “No,” I snapped.

  He raised a brow like he didn’t believe me. He sat a little straighter and gave me a sad smile.

  “My mom and pop can’t afford to pay for all my football shit this year. Mom got laid off, and Dad makes enough for us, just no luxuries,” he sighed.

  “But football’s your future.”

  “I don’t want my family to starve on a one-in-a-million dream.”

  Before I could answer, someone cleared their throat. I jumped in my seat. I was so distraught I didn’t hear the bells announcing the arrival of customers. I gave Quincy a smile before I turned around. I hoped he didn't think I was a bitch for smiling at him when it was probably Clark coming to check on Max's call.

  The smile dropped from my face when I saw who was standing in my shop. It was a good thing I was sitting down or else I was scared my feet would have given up on me. Dressed in cop blue, standing a few feet away from me, was Dexter Hendrix. Seeing him standing in my shop, I saw myself at Franny’s waiting an hour for him to show up. My throat started to burn.