Feels Like Home

by Kelly Elliott

  That made me pause for a moment. I swallowed hard and then forced the stupid thought out of my head. It hadn’t been about me. It couldn’t have been about me. I slowly turned and faced her.

  She smiled and nodded. “See! Lyrics that only you get. He’s most definitely sending you a message…and that message is that he still loves you.”

  With a tilt of my head, I studied her. “How do you get that he still loves me from that line?”

  Mindy sighed, a little too dramatically if you asked me. “Bristol, please! Sitting on the flat rock? Hello, Flat Rock Ranch? Y’all used to spend so much time out there. It’s where y’all first said you loved each other. Don’t pretend like you don’t remember.”

  “He could be talking about any flat rock, Mindy.”

  “The one I still pray for to the man up above? No, you and I both know he’s talking about you! Ugh, Bristol, almost all of his songs are about you, I swear. If you’d just listen to them all, truly listen to the words—”

  I huffed. “According to Josh, Anson has had his fair share of women. He’s most likely talking about the latest fling he slept with on a flat rock or something. Can you imagine all the little groupies who line up to sleep with him? Gross.”

  “Josh? You’re really going to listen to him with any shred of belief? The guy you dated and then dumped because you found out he was looking at wedding rings?”

  I cringed. It’s true. I had done exactly that. Josh had been fun to be with for the short time we dated. He was carefree and loved to do the things I did, which wasn’t a surprise, since we were friends first. He was supportive of me and went along with all the social media staging and interaction—which was practically a full-time job—and even helped me when I was trying to plan the tea room.

  But when it came right down to it, he wasn’t the man I saw myself settling down with. As much as I wanted to move on, my stupid heart wouldn’t let me. The sex was good. Not mind-blowing, but he always made sure I was taken care of in that department. Of course, he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body, but he was good to me. I just wasn’t in love with him.

  Just like I hadn’t been in love with the other two guys I dated after Anson and before Josh. I told myself I wasn’t comparing them to him, but my heart knew I was. No one would ever be able to heal the part of my soul that I had given to Anson. No matter how much I wished someone could.

  “Some reporter showed up at Ida and Irwin’s place the other day.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. Carl showed up with a gun and told him to get his city-slicker ass off of his folks’ porch or he’d become a permanent fixture there.”

  I covered my mouth in an attempt not to laugh. Carl, Anson’s father, didn’t take kindly to reporters showing up on his parents’ front porch. Not to mention, I had it on good authority that Carl hadn’t spoken to Anson since he left for Nashville. He never could forgive him for walking away from the family ranch in pursuit of a singing career. Regardless of how successful Anson was now, he left what was supposed to be his legacy. Pearl, Anson’s mom, told my mother that Carl did follow Anson’s career and had since he’d left, but would never admit to it.

  Mindy giggled. “Lord, I don’t know how they handle it. The reporters and such snooping around. The only reason no one has put you with all those songs Anson writes is because he’s the male version of Taylor Swift, and he’s never mentioned you…at least not by name.”

  “It’s because he had no reason to mention my name, silly.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. Or he could be like Sam Hunt 2.0. Didn’t he write a whole album about his ex?”

  I laughed and shook my head as I made my way back to my setup.

  As I adjusted the flowers and added a few more props, like my Currently Reading bookmark, the words from the song Mindy quoted replayed in my head.

  “Sittin’ on the flat rock, that night we fell so in love. She is the only woman in my heart, the one I still pray for to the man up above.”

  My heartbeat picked up a bit, and I tried to ignore it. When his first single came out, “Let It Burn,” everyone in Comfort talked about how the lyrics were about me. I didn’t leave the house for a month. Every time I did, someone would ask me what it was like to have an ex-boyfriend write a song about me. A break-up song. A song that basically told me and the town he grew up in to go to hell.

  The line that had been repeated over and over to me popped into my head.

  “Oh sweetheart, I will be your biggest regret. Watch me now, the crowds will shout. You’ll see what you let slip through your fingers, there is no doubt.”

  “Asshole.”

  “What was that?” Mindy asked.

  “Nothing, I think I’ve got enough photos.” Turning, I forced a smile. “Will you be at the tea room today? The Comfort Hat Society will be in for their monthly afternoon tea. I heard their hats for April are going to be unique.”

  She snarled her lip. “More unique than the hats made from armadillos that they showed up in last month? They couldn’t do anything for spring, like bluebonnets or something? No, they had to wear dead animals on their heads and act like it was appealing.”

  This time I did laugh, hard. Mindy followed my lead. Both of us laughed so hard we cried.

  “Oh, man, those hats were indeed ugly,” I said, when I was able to speak.

  Mindy wiped her tears away. “To put it mildly. But yes, I’ll be there, so if you need any help, I got your back.”

  I shook my head. “I got there early this morning and helped my mama and Terry with the baking. I think I’ve finally perfected my blueberry scones.”

  “Good! I can’t wait to have one. I think I’m starting to get cravings.”

  Mindy rubbed the little baby bump that barely showed through her flowy white shirt. She was five months pregnant, and as the months went on, the more excited I got to spoil her little girl. Or boy. Whichever. Secretly, I hoped for a girl, though. Because who wouldn’t want to have an actual tea party in a tea room with a little girl?

  “Don’t most women have cravings earlier on?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. My mom said she never had weird cravings. Or any cravings, really. She liked all food.”

  We both laughed.

  “Are you going to the barn dance this weekend? That new band you like will be there playing.”

  “Country Roads?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “I’ll probably go. Maybe Drake wants to go too.”

  My brother, Drake, had thrown himself into his job as a firefighter after his wife—the bitch who shall not be named for any reason—left him for another man. Drake was more relieved than upset. The only reason they had gotten married in the first place was that she claimed she was pregnant in college. Drake did the right thing. Turned out she wasn’t pregnant at all. Drake stayed with her in hopes they could make it work. Clearly, the divorce papers she had delivered showed that they couldn’t.

  Mindy frowned and looked away. That was a crazy situation. The fallout wasn’t fabulous either. When Mindy found out Drake had married the bitch, she ended up saying yes to her good-for-nothing boyfriend. The baby hadn’t been planned and was a result of a night of drinking and partying at a mutual friend’s wedding.

  “It would be good for him to get out,” I said. “Maybe meet someone finally.”

  Mindy glanced at her watch. “I should head on home. Jim will probably be there soon. If I’m lucky, he’ll stay at work again until midnight.”

  “Is he still not happy about the baby?”

  She shook her head. “No. I really don’t think this is going to work. Me and him. I hate to say this, but I feel nothing for him. If it wasn’t for this baby…”

  Mindy looked down and sighed.

  “It’s going to be okay, Mindy. I promise. Always remember, I got your back too.”

  She gave me a weak smile. “Call me later, okay?”

  “I’ll call,” I replied as I kissed her on the cheek, then kissed he
r little bump. “Bye, Bristol Junior!”

  Mindy laughed. “See you soon.”

  I watched as my best friend made her way over to the new-mom car her husband Jim had bought her. It was a little over the top, a Mercedes SUV, but Mindy wasn’t going to complain. Not because she wanted it, but that was simply her way. She didn’t complain about anything. She had a heart as big as the Texas sky, and the last thing she would ever do was hurt anyone’s feelings. Including her asshole husband’s.

  After I had everything packed up, I smiled as I saw one of the horses running across the open pasture. I took a picture of it and then opened my editing app.

  I wasn’t even sure how I got started with this whole social media-influencer thing. I made a few posts about life on a farm, then started sharing recipes, my hair-coloring mistake, the nerves about going on a date after having your heart broken, and suddenly, I had over a half-a-million followers on Instagram. Other people started to reach out about doing sponsored ads, which I hardly did, but if I found a product I liked, I shared it. The goal for me wasn’t money. I had a job, although this took up a lot of my time. Since I opened Farmhouse Tea, the Instagram gig became more of a hobby. I still loved posting and sharing things with my followers, though.

  After a quick edit of the photo, I uploaded it to my Instagram story and put a heart, then typed, Country Life. I smiled as I looked back up at the horse, who was now staring at me.

  “I know! I should be watching you instead of posting on Instagram!”

  He gave me a head bob and a neigh, and I laughed as I watched him and the other horses enjoy the beautiful spring day in Texas.

  Bristol

  I STEPPED OUT on my front porch and took in a deep breath. I lived right off the main drag in Comfort in an historical house. My tea room was right next door, making this the perfect spot. When it came on the market, I knew I had to have it. I was now neck-deep in debt, but it was mine, and I loved it. As I walked toward the tea room, I glanced around. There it was again. I had this familiar feeling of being watched. With another quick look around, I shook it off and made my way to the back door of Farmhouse Tea. I opened it and found my mother in the small kitchen.

  “Hey, Mama, sorry I’m late. Got caught up taking photos of Spirit after I did my photos for the book post. How were things here?”

  She smiled and nodded toward the refrigerator. “I’ve got the cucumber all sliced and ready to go. I’m working on the egg salad now. Terry will be back from lunch shortly.”

  I returned her smile. My mother used to own her own catering company. I worked at it since I was old enough to walk, I think. It was such a wonderful lesson and prepared me for owning my own business. Once I opened Farmhouse Tea, my mother retired and came on part-time to help me run the shop. She did most of the cooking, and Terry, another friend of mine from high school, handled all the bookkeeping and helped me in the tea room when Mindy wasn’t available. Plus, Terry made the most amazing onion and cheese flan. And her quiche…Lord, she had the magic touch when it came to quiche.

  “I tasted your Yorkshire curd tart, Sweetheart,” my mother said.

  With a slow, deep breath, I asked, “And how was it?”

  She turned to me, a serious look on her face. I exhaled on a groan.

  “It was…delicious!”

  I jumped and clapped my hands. “I got the texture right this time?”

  She nodded. “It was pudding-like, yes. I think the ladies today will really enjoy it. I’m glad you made two, though, so if any other customers come in, they can taste it as well.”

  I couldn’t help the warm feeling that bubbled in my chest. “Let me take a picture of it for Instagram!”

  Mom laughed and went back to what she was doing. I stepped out into the main room where all the goodness happened. I wrapped my arms around my body and took it all in. I loved this place. It had been a dream of mine for so long, and I was damn proud of myself for bringing it to life.

  A sudden feeling of sadness washed over me, though. There had been so many times I had picked up my phone to text or to call Anson and tell him about Farmhouse Tea. I’d followed his success and the culmination of him achieving his dream, and I wanted to let him know that I’d also achieved mine.

  Stupid, foolish woman.

  I pushed all thoughts of Anson away and looked around the tea room. Round tables with white linens and glass tops dotted the space. Rustic white chairs mixed in with vintage sitting chairs I had found while on shopping trips with Ida, Pearl, and my mother. They were stunning. Even though Anson and I were no longer together, I was extremely close to his parents and grandparents. Of course, it helped that my mother and Pearl were best friends.

  Strolling through the tea room, I smiled as the memory of those shopping trips replayed in my mind.

  I walked up to one of the tables and straightened one of the pink folded napkins. Each table was set with a dessert plate, a tea cup and saucer, a pink fancy-folded napkin, as well as a small vase with fresh flowers that my mother picked from her garden a few times a week. Some tables had vintage benches to one side in place of chairs, and the back corner that we called ‘the nook’ had a vintage Victorian sofa flanked by two vintage chairs. It was a cozy spot, and I loved seeing people settled in with their laptops or books and a cup of tea.

  When you walked into the tea room, a large vintage cabinet greeted you. It was filled with antiques Ida had found or had given me, and it was aptly named ‘Ida’s cabinet.’ The reception desk was my favorite part of the tea room. It was a piece that Irwin had made with Anson, when he was in high school, for a school project. I had painted it a light pink then given a vintage feel to it by sanding and then staining it. The cabinets behind that were another antique find that I had painted a very pale green and antiqued to match the large piece of furniture Irwin and Anson had made. That piece had been an important addition to the tea room. In some strange way, it made me feel like Anson was here. Or, at the very least, had a small hand in helping with the tea room. Although I’d never admit that little tidbit to anyone.

  A small vintage chandelier hung over the reception area. The entire tea room was filled with vintage pieces and paintings that had been picked up over the years. My poor father had let me store them in his shop on our farm, which actually had helped me out when it came time to opening the tea room. I had almost every piece of furniture ready to go and already paid for.

  Some of the local favorites were the framed pictures of families from around Comfort. A few were photos of some of the founding families, including my mother’s family. My father’s family had helped found Fredericksburg, which was short drive away. Every single day at noon, the horn would go off in Comfort, alerting everyone it was time for lunch. As Ida would always say, “The Germans need reminding it’s time to eat.”

  “Bristol?”

  My mother’s voice had me turning to look at her.

  “I was just outside watering the plants, and I swear if I hadn’t known better, I would say Anson drove by.”

  The way my heart dropped nearly left me breathless. “What?”

  “I mean, I’m sure it wasn’t him, but it sure looked like him. The guy driving the truck, though, had on a baseball cap, and when he drove by, he looked the other way, so I couldn’t tell for sure. But he had been parked across the street and down some. I thought he was watching me at first.”

  With a laugh, I brushed it off. “I highly doubt Anson Meyer was sittin’ down the road checking out Farmhouse Tea, Mama.”

  She looked back out the front window and shook her head slowly. “I swear, for a moment I thought it was him.”

  A familiar voice from out of nowhere started talking. Terry, of course. “Doubt it was. He’s on tour right now. He finished a show last night in Atlanta and is doing three shows in Nashville to wrap up his U.S. tour.”

  I stared at Terry, a beacon of information when it came to Anson.

  “How do you know all of that?” I asked.

  She winked. “D
on’t tell anyone in town, but I’m a member of his fan club.”

  My jaw fell open. “His…fan club? That’s an actual thing?” I asked, in a disbelieving voice.

  Terry gave me a half-shrug. “I can’t help it if half the town dislikes Anson and the other half are proud as hell of him. I like his music. It’s good. It’s all about you, though. The guy really does need to move on, maybe find some more inspiration for his songs or something.”

  I shook my head and then surveyed the room once more, trying to push away Terry’s words. After nearly six years, any mention of Anson made me equally sad and angry, mixed with a slight bit of joy.

  “The Hat Society will be here at four sharp. I’m going to start making up the tiers,” I stated as I walked into the kitchen.

  I heard my mother say to Terry, “You know, I do like that new song of his.”

  I rolled my eyes and tried not to curse out loud.

  The afternoon tea was underway when Mindy walked in through the front door. She hardly ever came in through the front. We had a small side yard that also housed some tables for those who wanted the fresh air, but more privacy than our front area offered. The side yard led to the back entrance, and Mindy always used it. The moment she walked in, I knew something was wrong. She looked flushed.

  I walked over to her and kissed her on the cheek. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “I decided to walk. I guess it’s a bit hotter out than I thought.”

  Her smile was forced, but I decided not to push her, at least not when the tea room was filled with fifteen women, all wearing giant red hats that had nests in the front, holding what looked like very real birds. I admit, I had to look twice when the ladies started walking in.

  Mindy took a look around and whispered, “Tell me those are not real birds they glued to their hats.”

  I squinted to get a better look at Elise Kirchhoff’s hat and giggled. “If they are, I’m pretty sure they’re dead.”