Beautiful March

by Christy Pastore

  “Sage, holy crap,” I yell and jump up from the sofa. “What are you doing back so soon?”

  “We were in Scotland when we got word of the news.” She tosses her sunglasses onto the counter. “Reed upgraded us to first-class pods and we got here as fast as we could.”

  Reed heaves three bags of luggage into the kitchen. “I would have maxed out my credit cards to get home. Three weeks with this one and I want to tear my hair out.” He winks at me.

  “I know that feeling, Reed.”

  “I hate you both.” Sage laughs. “I’m a delight.”

  I shove another cheesy crunchy bite into my mouth.

  Sage stops and eyes me up and down. “You look like hell. What’s happening here?”

  Tossing my bag of Cheetos onto the table, I slump into a chair. “Uhm, small-town gossip happened and it flipped someone’s life upside down.”

  Reed kicks the door shut. “You weren’t the one who told Jenna Rae, were you?”

  I swallow thickly. “No, but . . . I did tell Maybelle.”

  Sage’s hands fly into the air. “Why in the heck would you do that?”

  “Because apparently I’m an idiot. She had all these suspicions of Tyler and I was trying to make her see that he was a good guy. She thought that he was trying to steal her pudding recipe because he orders it at The Tea Room.”

  “He had the place torn down in March,” Reed interrupts. “He said a friend had complained to him about the property being an eyesore for the community. It was an off the books project. Didn’t want his mama or dad to know.”

  Sage blows out a heavy breath and takes a seat beside me. “I wonder why he never told any of us? Did he think that we’d judge him?”

  “Nah, Tyler ain’t like that. I think he was tryin’ to keep it under wraps to protect his parents,” Reed comments. “My guess, he probably didn’t want any of the living relatives to come sniffing around for money.”

  “I also believe that he didn’t want anyone to treat him differently. He created a life here, successful, happy. Being a part of a community is really important to him. Tyler wants to revitalize downtown Mayfield like they did with New Smyrna,” I say.

  Reed chuckles and shakes his head. “That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

  I press a hand to my mouth and try to fight back the tears. “Tyler hates me,” I sob. “I’m sure of it. We spent the most amazing three weeks together and then poof—gone up in flames. He won’t take my calls or text me back.”

  Sage is on her feet and at my side wrapping her arms around my shoulders before I can get the next words out. “Honey, he probably needs time. We need to find out where the information came from and clear your name.”

  I laugh, but my tears soak her beautiful green blouse. “You sound like Brant.”

  “I hear Maybelle’s fixin’ to beat Jenna Rae’s ass. Heard they got in a girl fight down on Whiskey Row,” Reed says, and pulls a coffee mug from the cabinet. “Hair pulling and all.”

  “Didn’t hear that one,” I say, glumly.

  My body aches, and my head feels like it’s stuck in a vice.

  “Listen, Haven,” Reed interjects, “I’m going to go talk to Tyler. He’s not one to play games. You say you didn’t tell Jenna Rae and I believe you.”

  “We believe you,” Sage corrects and looks over to her husband.

  He smiles and nods. “Right, we believe you.”

  Pressing my palms to the table, I push up from my seat. “Ugh, y’all are too cute married. And you both look wonderful. All happy and tan.”

  I step up to the kitchen window and stare out over the land. A truck is barreling down the road. I wish it was Tyler, but sadly it’s not. I need to go home. I can’t sit here waiting for Tyler to come around. At least if I’m home I can throw myself into work. I want to be in the office and focused and now I can be there for Grady when he goes to the Netflix party.

  “Since you guys are back, I’m gonna take off and get back to L.A.”

  “What? But what about Tyler? Don’t leave,” Sage pleads.

  I turn back to face her. “Look, Reed says Tyler isn’t one to play games. So, if he wants to talk to me, he’ll reach out. And I can’t do anything else but respect his space and give him time.”

  Folding her arms against her chest, Sage narrows her eyes at me. “I believe that your words are sincere, but I know that you’re running, just like you did when we were kids.”

  Fuck. She knows me well.

  “You might be right, but there’s nothing I can do about it if he won’t talk to me,” I argue.

  She expels a deep breath and her shoulders roll forward. “All right, you want me to help you pack?”

  “Nah, I’ve got this,” I say and push in my chair. “I’m gonna schedule a flight.”

  “We’ll take you to the airport,” Reed offers.

  Sage comes up to where I’m standing. “Thanks for helping me out. I really appreciate it and I love you.”

  “I love you too and you’re welcome,” I say. “I had fun hangin’ with Oliver and the ducks.”

  Tyler

  I decide to get out of the house and take Sawyer up on his offer to go to the festival. It’s the change of pace I need, and better now than never to face the people.

  Rip it off like a band aid.

  My phone buzzes and a message from Reed appears: We’re back early. You need anything?

  Me: You’re back? Why end the honeymoon early?

  Reed: Came back to check on you.

  My heart swells and I slam my fist to the dresser. They cut their honeymoon short because of me. I don’t know what I did to deserve friends like Reed and Sage.

  Me: You didn’t need to do that. I’m good. Going to the festival.

  Reed: We can always go on another vacation. When a friend is in crisis, that’s more important than being somewhere on a beach, sipping cocktails. We’ll be at the festival too.

  My heart hammers in my chest and I blow out a deep breath. Will Haven be with them? I resist the urge to ask and formulate another response.

  Me: See you there. I want to hear about your trip.

  I turn around and stare at my bed. For a moment, I get lost in my feelings. There were too damn many of them. None of which I planned on, yet here they are clawing at my insides.

  I’m twisted up over Haven. Still in disbelief over what Sawyer told me about her. She doesn’t seem like the person he described. But what the fuck do I know, I was only with her for a handful of weeks. Not exactly enough time to get to know someone.

  On the other hand, I’d never felt the things with anyone else that I did . . . do for Haven. My rumpled sheets remind me of Haven and her blond hair spilled over my pillows. Her big green eyes hazy and her pink lips snared between her lips coming off an incredible orgasm. My chest is heavy and my head spins as I try to shake the image from my head.

  Haven broke me. She played with my emotions all because she was stuck here—a place she dislikes on so many levels. Well, thank fuck I can move on now. She did me a favor actually, now I don’t have to worry about someone finding out about me and . . . I can share my past and all the parts of me with someone else.

  And I’ll keep telling myself that until the pain disappears. Until the ache in my chest dulls and the memory of her in my bed fades.

  I flop down onto the mattress and get my fill of her scent. I think about her sweet lips and her beautiful body, allowing myself this one memory before wiping it out.

  I drown into the sheets and close my eyes and don’t wake up until Sunday afternoon. I am surprised Reed and Sage didn’t show up on my doorstep when I didn’t show up at the festival. I’m sure they’re trying to get back to real life after their trip, and I wonder when Haven will return to Los Angeles.

  The pain has me pinned to this bed. It’s still there . . . living and breathing in my soul. I have to stop thinking about her and what she’s done.

  So, I stop. That’s enough.

  I stand under the shower h
ead and let it all wash away. Everything goes down the drain and I stay there until I’m numb.

  Seventeen years ago

  I walk into the room and it’s big and clean and smells a lot like a summer breeze. Even though I’ve been here for two weeks now, I still can’t believe I live here. Just wish Capri . . . Ava was here.

  My hands slip over the dark blue comforter and I take a deep breath. Everything is clean. Still clean. Perfect. Nice. Better than nice.

  Despite the fact that I’ve had many showers. I feel dirty. I can still feel the grime on my skin and the fuzz on my tongue.

  I turn to face the mirror that sits on top of the dresser and I stare at the only picture I have of my sister. It was taken just before she got sick. The stuffed tiger cat I bought her sits right next the photo frame. I tear my eyes away before I start to cry again. We buried her a few days ago. Mrs. Nichols bought her a red dress and a pair of shiny ballet flats. She looked really pretty. At least that’s what the people said.

  I swivel to the wall opposite my new bed. A bed. It’s mine, I remind myself.

  A giant flat screen TV with a video game console is mounted on the wall. I haven’t played it yet. Although Mr. Nichols says whenever I’m ready he’ll be happy to play with me.

  A desk and bookshelves line the other wall. There’s a large window that overlooks the pool and leads out to the pasture and further on to the miles of fence and stables way in the distance. I let out a sigh and pick up the basketball from the bin in the corner. Maybe I should go outside and play?

  Knock. Knock.

  I turn to see Mrs. Nichols standing in the doorway. She’s beautiful. Her blond hair is really shiny, not like the sun, but something close and it hits just below her chin. She has dark brown eyes, the color of chocolate. She likes chocolate. Made a cake the other day too and she let me have two slices for breakfast.

  She smiles at me from the doorway. “Dinner will be ready in an hour. Do you like chili with cornbread?”

  I nod and my mouth waters. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She fingers the pearl necklace that’s around her neck. “Do you need anything? Like a soda or a shower maybe?”

  My heart takes a leap into my stomach. Does she think I still smell?

  No, people wash up before dinner that’s all. Rich people must take showers before dinner. At the farm we just washed our face and hands when we came in from being outside.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’ll take a shower and change for dinner.”

  She smiles. “Towels are in your bathroom linen closet. I hope you like the color blue. It’s my favorite color.”

  My feet shuffle over the carpet and I nod. “It’s fine. I mean, I like it a lot. Thank you, ma’am.”

  She glances at my shoes and I realize I didn’t take them off when I came inside.

  “Uh, sorry, I forgot to take them off.” I bend to untie my laces.

  “Oh no, honey . . . Tyler, it’s okay. You can wear your shoes if you like.”

  Tyler, I’m still getting used to that name. Even though they let me pick my own name. Ava didn’t get to pick her name so Mrs. Nichols named her after some famous actress she loved. I thought that was nice.

  I stop and look up at her. Her eyes are wet with tears. Did I make her upset? Oh man, I’m being impolite in her house.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  Enid—that’s her first name—comes toward me. “I’m not upset. I’m so happy that you’re here. These are happy tears.”

  Her chocolate eyes skate over my face and she pulls me into a hug. I flinch at first then my shoulders relax.

  I hear the buzzing of a timer and she releases me from her hold. “Ookay then,” she says through a sniffle. “You go on and get that shower while I finish dinner.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I walk into the shower and stand under the hot spray. Picking up the bar of soap, I lather up my arms and chest, then I wash my hair again. I stay in there until my fingers are shriveled. Then I scrub my skin again until it’s red.

  “Gotta get this off me,” I say and rinse again. “Wash it all away.”

  Everything goes down the drain and I stay there until I’m numb.

  Tyler

  “Hey.”

  I look up to see Maybelle staring at me with her arms folded over her chest. “Did you call her yet?”

  “Her who?” I ask even though I know who she’s referring to.

  She narrows her gaze at me. “Haven, jerkoff.”

  I blow out a deep breath. “She runs her mouth and unleashes a flood of pain and I’m the jerkoff?”

  I’ve managed to steer clear of this conversation for a few days. Today I finally went to the restaurant. It’s the first day I wanted to get out of my house. But being at The Saffron House was painful. I kept staring at the table where we sat on our . . . first date.

  I press my palms into my eyes and groan. “Jerry, can I get another bourbon?” I hold up my empty glass.

  Maybelle drops onto the barstool next to me. “Bourbon won’t erase her. You’ll always think of her, no matter the brand you order. Haven is bourbon and you’re only getting drunk on her memory.”

  I roll my eyes.

  Now, I’m irritated, sitting here at Milt’s Pub. How did she even know that I was here?

  Small towns. I’m starting to get it now.

  I avoided calls from everyone except my parents. Ordered food from Grub Hub. Had booze delivered from my rep. Paid an extra hundred to have him bring it out to the house. Reed was at my house every morning banging on the door. My only response was a knock to let him know that I was still alive. Every day he left me a few of Sage’s dessert jars on the porch with the same note: “Eat me. Sweets make everything better.”

  I couldn’t deal with the pity looks and the “we’re so sorry about your childhood” on top of the misery of being fucked over by Haven.

  Still, I ache for her. No matter how many showers I’ve had or how I’ve washed my sheets and changed them twice—she still lingers there in my mind and my bed. I stayed away until I knew she was gone. Gone back to California. Her glam life.

  “Nichols,” Maybelle snaps. “You need to call her. Now.”

  “I don’t need to do anything,” I grumble.

  “Can I get a shot of tequila, Jerry?” she asks and hands him her credit card.

  Jerry slides the honey colored liquid in front of me and I take a long drink. Laughter fills the doorway and Maybelle and I turn at the same time.

  Fucking Jenna Rae. She slides up to a table with Sawyer and some chick I’ve never seen before. Must be one of Scott’s hookups. Two more people filter in and sit down with them.

  “I’m getting to the bottom of this shit right now.” Maybelle slams back her tequila and storms over to their table.

  Jenna Rae stands. “Stay away from me, you psycho, or I’ll get a restrain’ order.”

  “Fuck.” Jerry gripes under his breath. “I don’t need this shit in my bar.”

  “Who is your source?” Maybelle demands.

  Jenna Rae crosses her arms. “I told you it was Haven. I knew if I wrote the article, we’d sell a ton of papers.”

  Maybelle shakes her head. “I believe that last sentence. But Haven didn’t tell you anything, you lying piece of trash.”

  She scoffs. “You would think that, spoiled rich bitch.”

  “You jealous, trailer park Barbie?”

  I chuckle into my glass. Everyone is glued to the exchange. Sawyer levels his gaze in my direction and I shrug.

  “You’re a real annoyance. Who told you?” Maybelle presses. “We all know it wasn’t Haven. She wouldn’t do that to Tyler.” She turns back to face me. “And you, you friggin’ asshat, should have talked to her instead of believing the likes of this motley crew.”

  Another eyeroll passes over Jenna Rae’s purple and gold lids, I can almost hear it across the bar. It’s like billiard balls colliding together.

  “You keep being annoyed,” Jenna Rae in
ches out. “I’m a good journalist. I wrote a story that people needed to hear. People needed the truth about him. Tyler Nichols is an . . .” She snaps her red lips shut.

  Maybelle inches forward. “Finish that sentence. Now.”

  Jenna Rae holds up her hands. “Fine, the truth is that he’s an outsider.”

  My eyes widen in surprise. What? An outsider?

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Outsider? Nonsense.”

  “I said what I said,” she huffs and sweeps her hair over her shoulder. “He’s an outsider.”

  Now, I’m on my feet and striding toward the table.

  “An outsider,” Maybelle howls out. “This guy has one of the most successful restaurants, if not the best place, in Smyrna Hills.”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t grow up here. He didn’t go to school here. Tyler has no real roots here. Just like her.”

  “Her who?” I ask, jerking my shoulder up.

  “Haven Cardwell. She doesn’t care about this town. Haven’s always breezing in and out—and she’s out there thriving while this place is dying a slow death. A town that her . . . your family basically stole from the Stratton’s, Maybelle.”

  “Oh. My. God. Are these words seriously coming out of your mouth?” Maybelle asks, her voice squeaks with annoyance.

  “It’s true,” Jenna Rae says. “Y’all walk around like you own the damn town. So high and mighty. The paper that my family founded is in debt and when my mama lost her job at Nichols Corp, things got bad between the two of them. She’s taking pictures for chrissakes! And they’re not any good.”

  Sawyer shakes his head and stands up from the table. “Holy fucking shit. It’s all coming together now.” His head tips back in laughter. “You’re jealous.”

  “No, I ain’t. I’m telling the dang truth.”

  “If that’s true, then enlighten us to who your source is,” I say, feeling the tension building in my shoulders.

  She pushes to her feet in a rush. “I overheard Maybelle and Haven talking up in Elliston at the bar that night when the two of you breezed in to rescue Scott.” Her gaze swings to Maybelle. “You should be more careful when discussing secrets ‘cause the walls have ears.”