Turning Home (A Small Town Novel)

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Turning Home (A Small Town Novel) Page 22

by Stephanie Nelson


  It was one week until Christmas, and I still didn’t know what I was going to do about Dylan’s and my relationship. Could I get involved with the son of the guy who’d abandoned my mother in her time of need? If something like that happened to me, would Dylan act the same way and just leave me?

  I dealt with my problems the same way I always had; I wrote in my song journal.

  Mama

  (Verse 1)

  So many secrets, wound so deep.

  You took them to your grave to protect the truth from me.

  Your pain consumed you and you drown your demons,

  but all the hidden hurt began to seep.

  (Verse 2)

  Your sorrow ate away at you one day at a time.

  Every smile and laugh was to shield the lie.

  He walked away and you crumbled inside,

  Forcing you to make a decision that wasn’t right.

  (Chorus)

  Mama, let go of that pain.

  The ugliness can’t touch you anymore,

  Walk amongst the clouds and dance in the rain.

  Shine just as bright as before and close that door.

  (Verse 3)

  You let your regrets ruin your life.

  Now you’re buried beneath the lilies and pines,

  but you’re at peace where there is no strife.

  And I know I’ll understand in time.

  (Chorus repeat)

  My eyes blurred as I thrummed the strings on my guitar. A few tears fell onto my fingers as I reworked the chords. I cried for the loss of my mother, for the decision she had to make, and for what all of this meant for Dylan and me. I cried because for the first time in my life I didn’t care how weak it made me appear. In this moment, I just needed to let it all out, to cleanse myself of the many emotions and questions mudding my soul.

  * * * *

  Two days later.

  Dylan met me at our old high school. I sat on the bleachers bordering the football field and watched as he ascended toward me. Today he wore jeans, a Carhart coat, and a maroon ball cap. He had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket and kept his head down. When he sat, he didn’t make a move to touch me. Slowly, he rotated his head and our eyes met. There was apprehension behind his gaze.

  “I wanted to tell you face to face that I’m leaving early. My dad is heading up to Vail to spend Christmas with the Davies family, and I wasn’t in the mood to tag along.” The words seemed to rush out of my mouth as my nerves spiked into overdrive. I needed to tell him what I’d learned, and I wasn’t sure how he would take it.

  “You know, don’t you?”

  My heartbeat sped up in response to his question. “About what?”

  “I asked my dad why he didn’t want me seeing you, and he told me. I’m assuming you finally got your dad to talk as well.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, the icy chill of the air numbing my throat. “Yes.”

  I proceeded to tell him what my father had told me, and was shocked to learn that the story his father had told him didn’t match up to the one I knew. After we were both finished talking, we just stared at one another. We didn’t know which story was accurate, but did it really matter? The facts were still the same: his father and my mother almost had a baby. The weirdness factor halted the progression of our relationship.

  “So you’re running away again,” Dylan said, his eyes falling on the expanse of field in front of us.

  “I’m not running away,” I responded, hugging my arms tighter to my body. It felt colder all of a sudden. My hands shook and my teeth clattered as the realization of what was happening soaked into me.

  “I just …” I couldn’t finish that sentence because I didn’t know how. I still desperately wanted to be with Dylan, was still in love with him. The cold of the metal bleachers seeped through my jeans and chilled me even more.

  “You can’t get over this, is that what you’re saying? You think we should end things because of what our parents did twenty-some years ago?”

  I didn’t miss the anger in his voice, nor could I hold it against him. “Are you saying that it doesn’t bother you?”

  “Brooke, I don’t care what they did. It was their lives and decisions. Not ours. My feelings haven’t changed.”

  “I just need some time to think about all of this.”

  “You’ve had a week,” Dylan said. He clasped his hands in front of him and stared out at the field, his shoulders tight beneath his coat. “I need to know you and I are good,” he continued. “I can’t watch you leave again without knowing whether or not this is it.”

  I thought about the story my father had told me versus the one Dylan’s dad had told him. If what my dad said was true, then Dylan’s father was a jerk, and I couldn’t overlook what he’d done to my mother. But, if she chose to leave him to keep her lifestyle, then she was in the wrong.

  “I—”

  “Before you say anything,” Dylan interjected, “think about how you feel and not what your dad or mine might think. Go with what you want, Brooke.”

  I stared into Dylan’s green eyes, remembering how he’d awakened me. He was the something in my life that made it special. He was right—what had happened between our parents was their history, not ours. We had the power to rewrite the past and forge a positive future. As I stared into his eyes, I pictured what my life would be like without him in it. I already knew he would remain in my thoughts, haunting my memories. The time away from him proved that walking away wasn’t as easy as it sounded. He had carved out a spot in my heart that would forever be his.

  I felt my lips stretch before I even realized I was smiling. The tightness in Dylan’s jaw eased, and his eyebrows arched as though surprised.

  “I choose us,” I said, and felt the weight lift off my chest. “I don’t care what happened between our parents. I just want to be with you.”

  Dylan’s arms shot out and wrapped around my waist so fast that I shrieked in surprise. He lifted me onto his lap and claimed my mouth. Straddling his waist, I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back. Our tongues twined together, our lips moving fervently. I laughed against his mouth. I no longer felt the cold, no longer felt twisted with indecision. My place was in Dylan’s arms, and I knew as long as I had their security, our small town secrets and gossip couldn’t touch me.

  “You’re sure about this?” Dylan’s eyes held mine, penetrating and serious. “Because I’m all in, Princess.”

  I nodded, a small smile on my face. “I’m positive.”

  “And you trust me?” he asked, arching a quizzical brow. “You believe that I’ll be faithful while we’re apart?”

  I loved Dylan. That love caused me to jump headfirst into this relationship. When I agreed to forget what our parents had done and be with him, I hadn’t been thinking about how all this would work out. I couldn’t stay in Roseville, and Dylan couldn’t move to Tuscaloosa. He and Jase were business owners now—responsible. Dylan’s main fault had always been that he was such a sexual person. He liked sex, a lot. But I also knew he wasn’t the same Dylan he once was. If we were going to make this long distance thing work, we’d have to trust each other. And despite everything I knew about Dylan, I did trust him. His feelings for me weren’t shown through his words or sex; it was his eyes that convinced me. The emotion swirling through his gaze was sweeter than anything he could have said or done.

  “I trust you,” I told him, my warm breath causing a puff of white mist between us. Reaching up, I cupped one side of his face and said, “I wouldn’t be risking everything if I didn’t.” My father was going to be pissed when he found out, and a small part of me almost felt guilty over it. Knowing what I knew now—that my mother was in love with another man—and she was gone, caused an overflow of guilt to fill me. However, I also knew that if I didn’t start making my own decisions and living my life, that guilt would cause me to be under his thumb forever. His prejudice toward the Crawford family had nothing to do with Dylan. The sooner he realized tha
t, the sooner he’d understand that Dylan was not his father.

  “You’re going to tell your pa?” The surprise in Dylan’s voice caught me off guard.

  “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?”

  He shrugged. “I just thought keeping us a secret would be easier on you.”

  “You mean you expected that I’d keep you a secret, right?” My hand dropped away from his face. “He already knows about us, Dylan. I’m not ashamed of being with you if that’s what you’re worried about.” I stared out at the football field, remembering all the years I stood on the sideline and cheered. That time in my life felt like ages ago. So much had changed since then.

  Dylan’s hand gripped my chin as he turned my face toward his. His lips stretched into a large grin. What little sun there was broke through the gloomy clouds and lit his eyes, causing them to sparkle. It still baffled me that we were together, that he loved me.

  “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t change. You’re like the Army; you make me want to be the best I can be.”

  I laughed as he tugged me toward him and our lips met. All the times I’d stared up at these bleachers, pumping the crowd up for our football team, I’d never suspected that one day I’d be making out with Dylan Crawford on them. Life was such a mysterious and funny thing.

  “You’re sure they’re okay with me being here?” My hands were full of festive Christmas bags, and I could feel how sweaty my palms were against the handles. Dylan and I stood outside his father’s house, my heart slamming against my chest.

  “If we’re going to make this work, our families are going to have to get used to it, right?”

  I nodded as I chewed on my bottom lip. “Maybe we should have started with a dinner,” I suggested. “Spending Christmas together so soon …” Since my father headed up to Vail, Dylan invited me to spend Christmas with his family. Afterward, Dylan was coming up to Tuscaloosa to spend the rest of winter break with me.

  “You’re so cute when you’re nervous,” Dylan said, wrapping an arm around my waist and tugging me into his body. “Everything is going to be fine, you’ll see.”

  Seeing Dylan’s father was what had me so anxious. We still weren’t sure what had happened between him and my mama, and not knowing whether or not he’d abandoned her during her pregnancy gnawed at me. How could I befriend a man like that? I wished the hatred between our fathers stemmed from social status. It would have been so much easier than the truth.

  “Ready?”

  Sucking in a deep breath, I nodded and Dylan opened the door. The sound of the television greeted us, followed by the voices of two men bickering about something. I followed behind Dylan, my hand in his. The last, and only time, I’d been here was for Dana’s party. The small ranch home felt so much different when not filled with drunken kids.

  When we entered the living room, three heads turned toward us. Jase, Dana, and Dylan’s father all stared as though confused by what they were seeing. Mr. Crawford looked away first, his gaze traveling back to the television. His lips thinned into a grim line while a wrinkle formed between his hard eyes. I knew this was a bad idea. Jase smirked and winked at me. I found it odd that he was spending Christmas with Dylan’s family rather than his own, but then so was I.

  “Hi, Brooke,” Dana said, a smile lighting her face. “I’m happy you came.”

  “Thanks,” I said ineloquently. “I mean, thank you for inviting me to share the holiday with your family. It was very sweet of you guys.” I could tell Dylan was grinning next to me, probably entertained by my discomfort. Dylan’s father shot me another look, and then slid his gaze toward his son.

  “I wasn’t aware we’d have a guest.” His statement was loud and clear; he hadn’t invited me, and he wanted me to know. Dylan gave my fingers a reassuring squeeze.

  “Brooke’s father is traveling for the holiday,” Dylan said, letting go of my hand to slip his arm around the small of my back. “I invited her to spend Christmas with us.”

  Mr. Crawford’s eyes slid back to my face. My entire body tensed, readying itself for his next insult. I’d never had parents not like me. Most wanted their children associated with me simply because of my last name. Seeing the aversion all over Mr. Crawford’s face gave me insight as to what Dylan must feel like when face-to-face with my father.

  “Sorry to hear about your mama,” Mr. Crawford said quietly, his eyes softening as he looked back at the television. Jase and Dana looked up at me, their faces both consoling. My heart twisted at his mention of my mother. A sudden revelation struck me like a bolt of lightning: it had been Dylan’s father at my mama’s grave that night. He’d left the sonogram photo. Would a man who didn’t care about my mother or their child take the time to visit her grave and leave that photo? Someone like that wouldn’t have even held onto a sonogram photo for twenty-some years. Either my father lied to me about Mr. Crawford, or my mama had lied to my father about what had happened. I’d seen the hurt in Mr. Crawford’s eyes when he gave his condolences. He loved her.

  “Thank you,” I told him, seeing him in a whole new light. He wasn’t a monster at all, just bitter from what the snobs in this town did to him. And who could blame him? The truth about who my mother was soaked into me and caused my eyes to mist. Swallowing the pain, I put a smile on my face and was determined to enjoy this time getting to know the Crawfords.

  ***

  Having Brooke in my house, surrounded by my family, just felt right. I’d never shared a holiday with a woman before. Seeing her laugh at Jase’s jokes and chat with my sister just made me fall harder for her. My worry hadn’t been about my father approving, but rather that Dana and Jase wouldn’t get along with Brooke. Seeing them talk to her as though they were old friends made everything complete. As for my dad, he’d either eventually come around or get over it. He had to learn that Brooke and me weren’t him and Mrs. Kingsley. Brooke was nothing like her parents, and I loved her all the more for it.

  “Time for presents!” Dana crouched in front of the tree and deposited the small pile of gifts. My father always gave my sister money to shop for me because shopping for gifts wasn’t his thing. As for Dana, he usually gave her gift cards, stating that he didn’t know the first thing about buying for a teenage girl.

  “Brooke,” Dana called, pushing a green package her way. Brooke looked at me curiously as though asking if there’d been a mistake. I shrugged, unsure who’d given her the present. I planned to give her mine later when there weren’t so many witnesses.

  I leaned over and scanned the nametag on the package Brooke held. Lifting my head, I smiled at my sister. She and Jase knew I was bringing Brooke with me today.

  “You really didn’t have to get me anything,” Brooke said, almost sheepishly. “Thank you, Dana.”

  Dana looked away, almost embarrassed. “It’s not much,” she said. “I mean, it’s not expensive.”

  “I’m sure I’ll love it,” Brooke said with a smile.

  We all proceeded to open our gifts. I got a new toolbox and a couple t-shirts with funny sayings. When I looked over at Brooke, I noticed she hadn’t touched her gift. She stared at my family, a small smile on her face as she observed them.

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered.

  “Nothing,” she replied, turning toward me. “This is nice, relaxing. It wasn’t like this in my family. It was never … easy like this.”

  I stared at her, wondering what life must have been like as the single child of the wealthiest family in town. Brooke didn’t have a sibling like I did, no one to confide in. I imagined her Christmases were stuffy, and that made me sad.

  “I’m happy you’re here with me,” I told her, meaning every word. “Now open your present before you offend Dana.” Her eyes widened, shooting toward Dana. Laughing, I said, “I’m just kidding, Brooke.”

  Letting out a shaky laugh, she slipped a finger under the wrapping paper and carefully unwrapped the gift. She was so polite about it that I half expected her to fold the paper afte
r she was done.

  She stared down at the small trinket box sitting in her lap, a slow smile creeping onto her face. Slowly, she ran her fingertips over the metal scroll design. Lifting her head, she smiled at Dana.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Thank you, Dana.”

  Dana’s smile was equally as big. “You’re welcome. It’s vintage, from the antique store in town.”

  “It’s exactly what I would have picked out had I seen it.” This seemed to please Dana even more. I wondered, not for the first time, why these two had never become friends. In high school, it was all about circles, and Dana and Brooke’s never overlapped. It was nice to see that Dana’s assumptions about Roseville’s princess—my princess—was fading.

  “I brought presents, too.” Brooke stood up and began passing out the bags she’d brought. I’d told her she didn’t have to buy us anything, but she had insisted on it. I was sure her parents taught her it was rude to show up empty handed to someone’s house.

  When she reached my dad, he stared up at her with a grimace. After a couple seconds, he took the bag from her hands and mumbled a rude “thanks.” Coming back over to sit beside me, she took my hand and watched Dana, Jase, and my dad. We’d both agreed to exchange gifts with each other later, which made me curious about what she got me.

  Dana was the first to open her gift, squealing like an excited pig when she withdrew a small black purse. Had I known she got that excited over purses, I would have bought them for her for every Christmas and birthday.

  “Ohmygod! It’s a Coach purse.”

  This information was lost on the men in the room. We all looked at each other, confused.

  “It’s too much, but I love it!” Dana told Brooke. This statement cleared up some of the confusion, and I realized it wasn’t just any old purse. My eyes flicked to my father’s, warning him not to say anything about how much Brooke had spent.

 

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