My Almost Ex

by Piper Rayne

  “Listen to your stepbrother, Adam. We’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She walks away, Lucy’s eyes filled with questions.

  Once they’re gone, I sit down and lean back, staring at the sky and wondering how the fuck I got here. Jed falls down next to me and Mandi follows. No one says anything. They don’t give me advice or tell me what to do. They just lie there and let me collect my thoughts.

  How can Susan Davis find our family so despicable? We’re there for one another all the damn time, which is more than I can say for her.

  My mom is still fast asleep when I slip out of our room at the inn. This time I left her a note and told her I’d have my cell phone on me. For the past two months, I’ve tried to keep up running since it clears my head and allows all the pressure of remembering anything to disappear.

  Thankfully, Mandi isn’t at the reservation desk. I’m pretty sure the guy who is there knows who I am though, due to his furrowed brow when I wave and walk out the doors. At least in Idaho, I didn’t always feel like everyone knew more about me than I did. Was I nice to the guy or were we childhood enemies? Who knows?

  I put in my earbuds, scroll through my running app, and turn on my music. I’m in this whole grunge music phase. My mom says she doesn’t remember what kind of music I listened to, but she doesn’t think it was this dark. I’d like to ask Adam, because I think he’d know, but he doesn’t seem too willing to share information with me.

  I start off on my run, hoping I don’t get lost in the woods and eaten by a bear. I’m not sure how much time passes, but I’m running up a hill, about to cross over a two-lane road to continue on the wooden trail, so I slow to a standing jog and look both ways. There’s a slight hill to the right. I’m about to step on the pavement to cross when a Cadillac whizzing by makes me backstep. All I see is white and blue hair through the windows. I shake my head and jog across the street, hoping to get back into the zone again.

  The Cadillac’s wheels screech to a halt, the back fishtailing slightly. I glance over my shoulder, pulling my earbuds from my ears to see if something happened or if I need to sprint for my life because it’s an ax murderer.

  “I spilled my coffee!” a woman yells.

  The car door opens, and I take my cell phone out of the side of my leggings, prepared to call the police. My thumb hovers over the nine.

  My fear relaxes when Ethel, Adam’s grandmother, climbs out of the Cadillac. Not only is it nice to see her, but it’s nice to know who she is as soon as I do.

  “It’s all over me!” the other woman yells.

  “Relax, I’ll get you another one.” Ethel shakes her head.

  “My car or my clothes?”

  “Shh, you old bat, my granddaughter’s returned to town.” Ethel opens her arms and crosses the street boldly, as though the oncoming cars will just stop for her. “Lucy!” She hugs me. “Oh, my Lucy. I heard a rumor you were back. Figures the one year I miss the night before tourist day. The struggles of getting old.” She leans in and covers her mouth. “Constipation is a bitch.”

  “Good to know,” I say, hugging her back, thankful that I remember her.

  “I knew you couldn’t forget me.”

  I laugh. “It’s good to see you, Mrs. Greene.”

  “I’m hard to forget.” She winds her arm through mine, walking us back to the car. “Come on. Dori and I are headed into town to celebrate tourist day.”

  I stop in the middle of the road and slide my arm back out of hers as politely as I can. “I’m not ready for all that commotion just yet.”

  “Oh, completely understandable.”

  The passenger side door opens, and a blue-haired woman gets out. I feel as though I should know her.

  “Lucy,” she says. “How nice to see you.”

  “Thank you.” I smile.

  “I’m Dori. You know, I have a granddaughter-in-law who’s a doctor. You should go see her. She’s brilliant.”

  “She’s a family doctor, Dori, not a head doctor,” Ethel says.

  “Don’t knock Stella. She has more of a degree than you have,” Dori says.

  These two are something else.

  “Sorry, Dori’s in a bad mood,” Ethel says to me.

  “I wasn’t in a bad mood until you spilled coffee all over me.” She looks down at her pants that match the blue in her floral shirt. The outfit seems to pull the blue in her hair out more.

  “Because I saw Lucy.” Ethel smiles brightly at me. Maybe she’ll explain to me the whole situation between my mom and Adam.

  Shit. I look at my phone. It’s eight-thirty. I’ve been running for well over an hour. As though my mom feels my panic, her name flashes on my screen as my phone vibrates.

  “I have to go. It was very nice seeing you again,” I say before hugging Ethel and smiling at Dori. I’ve decided I’m not pretending to know someone if I don’t anymore. It’s weird to hug people when we both know I have no clue who they are.

  “Are you okay?” Ethel asks, and I step backward a few feet.

  “Great, I just have to finish my run and get back to my mom at the inn.”

  “We can drive you,” Dori suggests.

  I raise my hand to say that’s okay. I turn around to head into the woods when a semi crosses over the hill and blares his horn when he sees me in the road. I stand there as if I’m made of stone.

  “Lucy! Get out of the street!” Ethel screams.

  I look over at her and snap out of it, dashing to the side of the road. But I’m not on the trail, and I fall down into a ditch that’s all muddy from the recent snowmelt. The semi passes by with a whoosh and I lie back, not wanting to get up out of sheer embarrassment.

  The two old women peer over the edge of the road at me.

  “Do you not remember that semis can squish you like a pancake?” Dori asks.

  I sit up, looking at my clothes, now caked in mud. My phone vibrates again. “Yes, I do remember. It just took me by surprise.”

  Honestly, I wish I had an answer to why I froze just now. As sad as it is, I’ve wondered if I hit my head again, would my memory resurface? I know, stupid, but late at night when I’m trying so hard I give myself a migraine, I fear I’ll never be who I was.

  “I should call Adam,” Ethel says.

  “No!” I yell and climb up from the ditch.

  “Well, we’re at least taking you with us,” Ethel says.

  I can’t refuse their offer now.

  Of course, these veteran mothers are prepared with towels in the back of the car. I don’t ask why though. They lay them out for me and I slide into the back seat, relieved to at least have a ride back to the inn.

  Until Ethel slams her foot on the gas and my head hits the back of the seat.

  Dori peers over the passenger seat. “You remember me now?”

  I shake my head.

  “Didn’t think so.” She turns forward and I send a text to my mom, saying I’ll be there shortly.

  Mom: It’s fine. I packed my bags. Please pack yours. I’m going to meet Adam and his father for coffee and then we’ll leave.

  My stomach sinks while I stare at the text message. She can’t be serious. Adam was my first breakthrough in weeks. I hammer out a message.

  Me: No. Please wait. I’m coming and then I’ll go with you.

  Mom: Sweetie, it’s 8:45 now, I don’t want to be late.

  Me: Call them and ask to push it back.

  Mom: Truth is, it’s better if you just don’t go. Let me handle this. You had a tough day yesterday.

  I clench my phone. She’s going to leave me out of this, and now I’ve fallen in mud and have to shower before I can join them. I don’t like all these people making decisions on my behalf.

  “Take me to town,” I say to Ethel.

  Ethel glances at Dori. It’s clear they’re having some weird conversation with just their eyebrows.

  “Sure,” Ethel says. “Anywhere specific?”

  “Where people would meet for coffee?”

  “That’s vague,”
Dori says but looks back at me. “Do you remember what coffee is?”

  I stare at her blankly. “Yes, I know what coffee is. I just need to find my mom, Adam, and Mr. Greene.”

  “Oh,” Ethel says and her and Dori’s eyebrows go in all different directions. “Why?”

  “Because this is my life and so what if I don’t remember anything? I’m going to eventually. One day I’ll find out exactly why my mom and Adam don’t like one another, why I’d leave Adam and go to my parents, and everything else about who Lucy Davis was. Or is.”

  “You mean Lucy Greene,” Dori says.

  Shit. I never thought about that. I am Lucy Greene, but only until Adam divorces me.

  We pull into downtown and I reposition my ponytail, trying to look halfway presentable.

  As I step out of the Cadillac in the parking lot behind the square, a minivan pulls up beside the car and a woman flies out, swarming me. “Lucy, Lucy!”

  My back presses against the car as she tackles me and hugs me so tightly, I struggle to breathe. Pulling back, she holds my forearms, looking me over.

  Then her face transforms into a scowl and her pointer finger is right in front of my face. “You leave me again and so help me God, I will sucker punch you right between the legs.”

  I squeeze my thighs together on instinct, but the only thing I’m happy about is that I recognize her. “Cora.”

  She’s a little older than I remember, but her strawberry-blonde hair and freckled face still holds youthfulness.

  “She remembers her, but not me?” Dori says from next to us.

  “Hello, Ethel. Dori.” Cora tips her head in greeting. A crying baby sounds from the minivan and Cora backs up. “Sorry, give me a moment.” She pulls out a baby and settles it on her hip.

  “You have a baby?”

  Her smile dims.

  I hate that reaction. As though I’m disappointing people.

  “Yeah, Luce, I married Toby, remember? And I was pregnant when you left.”

  My heart sinks. I don’t remember such milestones in one of my best friend’s lives. But I do know that there was never a thing I kept from Cora, so maybe she can help me regain some of my memories.

  “Can we talk in a bit? Are you busy?” I ask.

  “It’s story time at the bookstore. It’s Brody’s favorite time of day. But after, you can come over while he takes a nap?”

  “You should go to story time with them,” Ethel says.

  “Next time. I have to get to the coffee shop.”

  “Just go in for a second. In the meantime, I’ll find Hank and Adam for you.” Ethel pulls out her cell phone.

  Cora’s already got her stroller out and is placing her son inside. “Walk with me. You were gone last night before I could catch up with you. We arrived a half hour after the action, from what I heard.”

  We round the corner into the town square and it’s just like last night but not nearly as crowded. Cora stops in front of a bookstore next to the brewery. I look inside.

  “Presley?” I ask, remembering the woman inside from last night.

  “You know her?” Cora acts surprised.

  “I met her last night. She looks so much like Clara.”

  “Oh yeah. That’s a whole thing I’ll have to fill you in on when we catch up.”

  “So Cade, huh?”

  She nods. “She just whirled into town and put a sold sign on the man. Another Greene off the market.” Her smile dims again.

  I want to say ‘stop it. I’m fine. Don’t feel sorry for me.’

  “Of course, you were the first to get a Greene man off the market,” she says, elbowing me.

  “And from what I hear, I was the first one to put a Greene back on the market as well.”

  She puts her arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry, you’re totally going to win him back. That Alicia is nobody.”

  Another mother walks past us into the bookstore, and we hear Presley announce that story time is starting.

  “Oh, I have to go. Here.” Cora pulls out her phone and hands it to me. “Call yourself and then I’ll call you afterward. Give you the address to my place.”

  I do what she says, and she hugs me one more time before rushing inside. I think about her words. Win him back? Is that something I want to do? I wish I could answer that, but until I regain my memory of why I left him in the first place, I’m not sure I can. Right now, I feel as though a huge chunk of my heart has been dug out with a dull shovel. But past me must’ve had reasons for leaving my husband, right?

  And then I spot my mom across the street. I’m about to follow her until she gets into a truck and drives away.

  I know that truck. It’s Adam’s.

  “I guess you weren’t invited,” Dori says.

  The old bat is right. As if not remembering that it’s my life, two people I love are purposely keeping me out of every decision that affects me.

  Not everyone in Sunrise Bay loves our family. We live in a small town where most people know one another. Because my grandfather bought a prominent parcel of land up on a hill overlooking the square years ago and built himself a house, most people think we’re a helluva lot richer than we are.

  My grandfather was an honest man. Sadly, his brother wasn’t. But some people, like Susan Davis, decided early on which of the Greene brothers they sided with. Since Susan’s dad worked alongside my grandfather’s brother, and he was responsible for her family’s livelihood, Susan’s always loved him and hated my grandfather. It’s stupid shit that should mean nothing in the present, since my grandfather is long dead and his brother lives in Arizona. But as my dad says, you can’t change people’s thinking. You can try to enlighten them, but that’s about all.

  We sit down at a diner in Lake Starlight, Lard Have Mercy. I used to come here quite a bit after my mom died. My dad wanted to flee the sympathetic looks in Sunrise Bay.

  Susan picks up a menu and looks out into the square and the gazebo. Lake Starlight has a Founder’s Day Parade every year, and from the number of trucks hanging up banners, it looks like they’re setting up for it.

  “Sunrise Bay is so much prettier,” Susan remarks.

  I slide in next to my dad. “Rylan’s soccer coach lives here. He’s married to a Bailey.”

  Susan nods as though she doesn’t know who they are. We all know the Baileys. The nine Bailey siblings lost their parents tragically when they were younger, leaving the oldest siblings to take custody of the rest. When tragic things like that happen, word of it carries over to nearby towns, especially with our three small towns clustered together—Lake Starlight, Sunrise Bay, and Greywall.

  “Thanks for understanding that I wanted to go outside of Sunrise Bay. The eyes and ears there are just waiting for gossip, and I didn’t want Lucy here during this conversation.”

  “We shouldn’t be keeping things from her,” I say.

  My dad raises his coffee mug for the waitress, and she comes by and fills the cups. That’s his signal for me to shut up. “Susan, I understand you wanting to protect Lucy. She’s your daughter. But she’s also an adult. An adult who’s married to Adam. If we wanted to be technical here…”

  Susan’s jaw shifts left and right. “Just spit it out, Hank.”

  Surely he’s not thinking I’m going to take Lucy back? Fuck that. Only for her memory to resurface after I’ve grown close to her, and then I’m back to where I started a year ago?

  “You said Adam was a breakthrough for her,” Dad says. “Why not give her more time here? See if more resurfaces for her.”

  I choke on my coffee but manage to swallow it.

  “Do you have any idea how much work I’ve missed since her accident? I’m not tenured at the university yet, so my job is hanging on by a thread.” She stirs her coffee. “And after last night, I’m not sure it is the right place for her.”

  “Last night?” My dad glances my way through the corner of his eyes.

  “So the Greenes don’t share everything with one another, huh?” She hu
ffs, her narrowed eyes pointed at me.

  “I went to the inn,” I admit.

  My father’s shoulders sink. “I told you not to.”

  If he thinks I’m going to apologize, he’s crazy. I have so many questions and I don’t trust Susan to answer them. “She’s my wife.”

  “That’s not what you said last night,” Susan taunts me like a child.

  “We were in an argument. Don’t act like you understand our situation.”

  My dad places his hand on my arm to quiet me. The waitress must be used to family drama because she reappears with a smile, pen poised over her notepad, asking what she can get us.

  “Just a muffin,” Susan says.

  My dad says he’s just having coffee.

  “I’ll have an omelet with cheese and bacon. Hash browns, crispy, and another side of bacon.”

  The waitress jots it down, smiles, and walks away.

  “One day you’ll have to change your eating habits.”

  Susan offers advice I don’t want, so I say nothing since the man who taught me not to say anything if I didn’t have anything nice to say is sitting right next to me. Hate for him to think I don’t take any of his fatherly advice.

  “As I was saying, my bag is already packed and if Lucy does as I asked, she should be at the inn, waiting for my return with her own bags packed. This was never more than a quick trip in and out.” Susan pretends like she’s so proper with her chin tilted up, gazing down at us. As if we’re having tea with lemon wedges and shortbread cookies at high noon. She always thought she was hot shit because she was a professor. Someone needs to remind her that Anchorage College and Harvard aren’t exactly the same. Not that I’m bashing my alma mater.

  “Marla and I would be happy to have Lucy stay with us.”

  Again I choke on my coffee. Why does Dad throw this shit out there right as I take a drink? I bet he’s doing it on purpose since I went against his wishes last night.

  “Yeah, um, no.” She pours another artificial sugar in her cup, the spoon stirring constantly. All I want to do is take the spoon out of her cup and fling it across the room. “She’ll come back to Idaho with me.”