Memories of Us

by Fabiola Francisco

  “No,” I shake my head and frown.

  “Maybe one day…”

  “Doubt it,” I bite.

  My mom nods and changes the topic. “Do you think you can pick up the food for me?”

  “Sure. Where?”

  “Over at Bill’s. He said it should all be ready by three.”

  “I’ll grab it for you. Now finish up here and go get ready.” I help as much as I can before leaving to grab the food she ordered.

  “WHAT’S GOING ON?” JACK meets me at the makeshift bar while I wait for my beer. I’ve been standing here staring at the familiar face.

  “Thinking of asking Tiffany if she knows where Mackenzie is,” I state as if it would be the most natural comment.

  “You think she’ll tell you?” Jack’s incredulous voice rings loud in my ears.

  I shrug and grab my beer, glad my parents at least got someone to help with this kinda stuff. “Who the fuck knows?” I take a chug of my beer.

  Jack shakes his head and squeezes my shoulder. “I’m pretty sure she’s on her sister’s side. Doubt she’ll say anything.”

  “She liked me once. Maybe she’ll feel bad. I’ll give her my Hunter Daniels smile,” I defend.

  “She liked you before you broke her sister’s heart.” Jack slaps my shoulder hard.

  “She broke mine, too.” That life-changing night comes back to me and I tighten my hand around the beer bottle.

  “That’s not how Tiffany will see it.” He stares at Tiffany as well. She talks with her parents, none of them having interacted with me, but Mrs. Hill did give me a small smile earlier.

  “Hey, did you get my drink?” Julie joins us.

  “Ordering it now, babe,” Jack responds. “Don’t do it,” he tells me, warning loud and clear.

  “Do what?” Julie looks between us, crossing her arms.

  “He wants to ask Tiffany about Mackenzie,” Jack runs his mouth.

  “Oh yeah, don’t do that,” Julie shakes her head.

  “Why not?” My eyebrows pull into each other.

  “She hates you.” Julie’s tone is so nonchalant, I have to stare at her to make sure I understood.

  “What?” I raise my voice. “I know I fucked up with Kenzie, but I tried to contact her. She wouldn’t take my calls or answer my messages. This wasn’t supposed to be permanent.”

  “She moved on,” Julie shrugs.

  “What? With who?” My eyes widen and my heart slams in my chest.

  “I don’t mean it that way. I honestly don’t know if she’s met someone or not, but she doesn’t need another person to move on,” Julie backpedals on her comment before I lose it.

  “Fuck,” I growl. “I gotta try,” I slam my hand on the top of the bar.

  I walk away from my friends and straight to Tiffany. She knows where her sister is, and I’ll be damned if I can’t charm her into telling me.

  I turn my growl into a smile. “Hey, Tiff. How’s my favorite munchkin?” I use the nickname I gave her when she was a kid in hopes I’ll win some nostalgic points.

  “Hey, Hunter.” She lifts a brow.

  “How are you?” The condensation of my bottle mixes with the sweat in my palms.

  “Good.” She drinks her wine, her stance defensive.

  “You finishing up college?” I make small-talk to catch up after the years.

  “Yup,” she pops the p.

  “So—”

  “What do you really want?” she interrupts me, tilting her head.

  “Tiff, I want to know where Kenzie is. I’ve been trying to contact her for three years, and she won’t respond. I can’t find her on social media, I don’t have her number, and no one knows where she is.” I spill the truth from my lips.

  “She doesn’t want to be found. She’s moved on and you should, too. Sorry, Hunter.” Her lips flatten.

  “I just want to talk to her. Please. I’m not above begging.” I’m already begging.

  “Seriously, let it be. It’s been three years. You’ve gone and made a life for yourself.” Her eyes waver between me and something behind me.

  “Come on,” I continue to plead in hopes to break her down. This life I’ve made is nothing without her.

  “No,” she shakes her head, firmly. “Sorry, but I respect her too much.” Tiffany shrugs.

  Fuckin-A. “Okay, but you have my number if you change your mind. Same number as always.” I watch Tiffany nod and walk away. I’ll never get a new number in hopes Mackenzie will decide she needs me. Wants me. I won’t give up this easily, but I know how far I can push when it comes to Tiffany and her loyalty to her sister.

  I return to the bar and order a whiskey. My head falls into my hand as my eyes close. I can still see her, still smell her, as if I had woken up with her this morning. We had our whole lives ahead of us, and one night changed it all.

  Grabbing the glass, I walk to the barn. Sometimes I miss this place. I miss the smell of the musky wood and the horses. I miss the cattle and riding out in the open when I need to clear my mind. I don’t get that in Nashville. I love what I’m doing there, especially now that I’m finally breaking into the industry, but I miss the freedom of the country.

  Despite thinking about Mackenzie constantly, I thought I’d be able to come here this weekend, celebrate my parents, and leave feeling the same way as when I arrived. Being back here, where we planned our future and tore it apart, fucks with my mind. Almost makes me want to stay. Almost.

  “Hey, girl.” I find Addie’s stall and reach for her. Some days I wish I could go back and undo the damage. Be twenty-two again and learn to be less selfish and more supportive. I’ve been living with the pain of losing the love of my life and the relationship with my father, losing my home.

  Feeling sorry for myself isn’t a good look on me, but I’ve been wearing it despite that. It doesn’t take me much longer to head back into the house with the excuse of an early drive tomorrow.

  “Are you sure you have to leave so soon?” My mom’s eyes crinkle and I hug her.

  “I’ll come back and visit ya.” I squeeze her tight when I hear her sniffle.

  “You won’t. You’re too stubborn to apologize to your father, and he’s too damn proud to admit he’s hurt.” My mom wipes the corners of her eyes.

  “Momma, I’ll come back. I just need to… I need some time.” I release the hug and look at her. I knew coming back here would screw with my head.

  “She’s gotta come home at some point,” my mom tries to reason.

  “It’s been three years, Mom.”

  “It’s been three years since you left, and you came back. Just don’t stay gone,” her voice cracks.

  “I love you, Momma.” I kiss her cheek.

  “Love you, too. You know I’m proud of you, right?” She cups my cheek.

  I nod. “Yeah.” I scratch the stubble on my jaw where her hand just was. “Thanks.”

  “Go say bye to your dad. He’ll appreciate it, even if he acts like he doesn’t.” She squeezes my hand, a sad smile on her face.

  I nod. “Okay.” I grab my bag and kiss my mom’s cheek one more time. I look back at the room where I lived for so many years and walk outside.

  I look at their land from the porch and remember being a kid and thinking there would be nothing cooler than to grow up to be a real cowboy. I grew up, and so did my dreams, but this place was always a sanctuary until all my mistakes were spray painted in the air, reminding me of the asshole I was.

  I see my dad talking to Rick. I inhale and walk toward them. I purse my lips as I reach them.

  “I’m heading out.”

  “Okay.” He keeps his back to me.

  “Come on, Pops,” I slap my hand on my thigh.

  “I’m busy, Hunter. Someone’s gotta tend to this place.” His back is as straight as an arrow, tight and tense.

  I bite down, Rick staring between us.

  “Dad…”

  “Drive safely,” he adds with finality.

  “For what it’s
worth, I’m sorry.” I turn around and walk away, head hanging. It may not be the best apology, but it’s the first one I give him.

  Climbing in my truck, I memorize the view and drive away. I left my heart here when I moved. Then, Mackenzie took it with her when she escaped. I drove away that night, but she knew where I was going. I called her. I reached out. She threw us away.

  Frustrated, I slam my steering wheel and pull over. I blink away my emotions and dig through my bag until I find the worn notebook. I open to a new page and scrawl on the paper.

  I keep the picture

  With our smiling faces,

  As they taunt me

  For my mistakes

  Of how I tore your heart

  With my own words,

  But I’m begging you please,

  Come back to me

  I force the notebook shut and stare ahead for a moment before putting the car in drive and making a pitstop. I can’t leave without visiting this place. A few minutes later, I drive off the road and take the overgrown path that leads to where the old watermill stands.

  I jump out of my truck and stare at the weathered wood. Hands in my pocket, I cross the bridge that leads to the mill and stare at the rushing water from the river. This was our place. The place I first told her I loved her when we were only fifteen. The place I promised her the world. We would sit here and plan our future. What I’m living was supposed to be ours, not just mine, and without her it means shit.

  I fucking miss her.

  Without her, I couldn’t climb on stage and sing to a crowd, knowing the one person my songs were for was miles away from me.

  I pick up a pebble and throw it into the water below me. I watch it drown the same way my hope of seeing Mackenzie again is drowning.

  Writing songs for her is the best I can do until she comes back, because I know we’re not over. We’re just on pause, like your favorite song you need a moment to take in. But as soon as I find out where she is, I’m going for her and pressing play on our love story.

  I walk to the door of the mill house and hold the metal knob. How could things have escalated this much?

  I release the knob and hit the door with the heel of my hand. “Fuck,” I mutter before walking back to my truck, leaving the memories of us, and drive the two hours back home. Resigned to my reality and life without her.

  I open the fridge and find it empty. Shouldn’t surprise me with the way I’ve been living—day by day, only caring about how to get to Mackenzie. A few beers linger, so I grab one and sit on the couch.

  I’m meeting with the guys from Rebel Desire tomorrow and want to be prepared. I got lucky when I struck a job writing for Nashville Records, and even luckier when Rebel Desire wanted to team up with me. It took me a couple years of writing songs and getting rejected to get my name out there. I tried performing my songs at bars, but the stage isn’t my thing anymore. It didn’t feel right to stand on stage and sing to a stranger’s face about another woman.

  When I saw them performing at Riot one night over a year ago, I grew some balls and approached Cash. Once he heard a demo, he called me up. I owe him my job, and all he said was, “We all need someone willing to give us a chance.”

  He has no idea what his chance gave me. I was drowning in debt, beer, and a broken heart. Now, maybe Mackenzie will hear the songs I write and remember what we had. I can only hope she feels the same, misses me and what we had.

  Fuck, I was even selling tee shirts at concerts. Anything that would put me within feet of the industry and the people that help run it. But it’s cutthroat out there.

  I look over the notes from last week. Co-writing with Cash Knight is huge, and if I can get my name on Rebel Desire’s next album, the doors will fill with opportunities and offers. All I want is a chance to share my songs. And though I wrote great songs before, a broken heart upped my game. All my pain poured into songs.

  I lean back on the couch and extend my legs, putting pen to paper. I gotta show up prepared tomorrow. Each day prove my worth. It’s all I have left. At least associate my name with something I can be proud of because all other aspects of my life are shit.

  For the past year, I’ve been co-writing for other artists but no one as big as these guys.

  Your hand in mine,

  Breath in my ear

  Whispers of what could be

  As I promise you,

  Promise you,

  The world and my heart

  Gonna give it all,

  Take what you want,

  ‘Cause I promise you

  We had it all

  And lost it

  Broken promises,

  Broken hearted

  And I’m left all alone, needing you

  Wondering where you are

  Fuck. I drop the pen. I gotta get my head right. I can’t be writing heartbreak when this album is supposed to be about positive relationships. I can’t pour my negativity into this album. I keep that for my personal songs, the ones I won’t share.

  Despite the nap I took when I got home from Alabama, I could close my eyes and sleep. I should go grab food instead. Disconnect. Despite knowing my trip home would mess with me, I wasn’t expecting the onslaught of emotions it rained on me. Maybe I was hoping to see her, talk to her. How can someone stay gone for so long?

  I sigh and grab my keys from the coffee table and dump the beer bottle in the trash on my way out. My life’s a joke.

  “How was Alabama?” Dex approaches the bar. I’ve been friends with him since I moved to Nashville, both of us chasing the neon lights of Music City.

  “Great,” sarcasm drips from my mouth. I motion to the stool next to me.

  “Sounds like fun.” He sits next to me. “Did you order without me?”

  “You took too long,” I shrug.

  “I was busy,” he winks. I chuckle and shake my head.

  “I should’ve known.” I roll my eyes.

  “Can’t blame me. I serenaded her straight into my bed.”

  I laugh loud, drawing attention to us. “You’re hopeless.” Friends like Dex help me get through each day.

  “You just gotta get yourself a hot chick and you’ll stop moping.”

  “Dex,” I warn, nostrils flaring.

  He lifts his hands. “Okay, okay. I know, off-limits.”

  It’s not like I’ve been abstinent for three years, but I can’t justify turning into an asshole and fucking everything with a vagina. Not if I want another chance with her. Besides, I came to Nashville so I could follow my dream, not fuck it up.

  I thought getting out of the house would help, but it fueled my desperation. The constant reminder in my head of what I lost is suffocating. This has been my life for three years. Trying to escape her memory when I see her everywhere, no matter where I am.

  I grab my phone while Dex tells me about his latest gig and the scout he thinks he saw. I open a text message and send one message to the only person who has the answer I’m looking for.

  Hunter: I need to see her

  Bubbles appear and disappear. I sigh, resigning to my fate. If I can’t have her, I don’t want anyone else. I made her that promise long ago, and I intend to keep it, whether she knows it or not.

  “I’m gonna go,” I interrupt Dex. I’m a shitty friend for not giving him my full attention, but I’m not in the right state of mind tonight.

  “You sure?” His eyes analyze me.

  “Yeah, big day tomorrow.” I slap his back.

  “Fine, but I’m performing at Riot on Thursday and you better be there.” He won’t let me forget it either.

  “Good thing. I’ll be there, man. See ya.” I drop money on the bar and leave, checking my phone. Nothing.

  Hunter: please Tiff. I cant take it any longer.

  Tiffany: sorry H, I can’t

  Hunter: just her number

  After five minutes of silence, I pull out of my parking spot and head to my tiny apartment. I wish I could say it’s been a long time since I’ve cried, but it�
�s too many nights. I drink too much beer and call out her name in my dark apartment, sitting on the floor with my guitar lying next to me after writing a song about what could have been, what was, or what is.

  “HOW’S THIS?” CASH ASKS as he strums his guitar. I stifle a yawn as he sings the song.

  Your hand in mine,

  Breath in my ear

  Whispers of what could be

  As I promise you,

  Promise you,

  The world and my heart

  Gonna give it all,

  Take what you want,

  ‘Cause I promise you

  We’re just gettin’ started

  The moment my eyes

  Landed on you

  I knew

  This was the kinda love

  I’d been waiting on

  Gonna give it all,

  Take what you want,

  ‘Cause I promise you

  We’re just gettin’ started,

  Just gettin’ started

  I take your lips

  And claim them,

  They’re sweeter than tea

  He stops and looks at us. We’ve been at this writing session for three hours, meshing what I brought and his own.

  “How about we change ‘cause I promise you/ we’re just getting started, to ‘cause I promise you/ I want all of you,” Jason, Rebel Desire’s bass player, chimes in.

  “I like that,” Cash agrees. He scribbles on the paper, making the changes. “Let’s try to finish and then go from the top.” We discuss ideas, throwing out words that would fit the rhythm and message of the song. An hour later, we have a pretty complete version of the song.

  Your hand in mine,

  Breath in my ear

  Whispers of what could be

  As I promise you,

  Promise you,

  The world and my heart

  Gonna give it all,

  Take what you want,

  ‘Cause I promise you,