Walking Among the Cherry Trees: The Cook Brothers Series

by Heather D'Agostino

  Virginia lived about three miles outside the main area of Cherryville, It was a short bike ride away. I’d even walked it a few times, but as I looked down at my Jimmy Choo’s, I was thankful for the ride. Most women in Cherryville wore sundresses or even jeans. Me, dressed in my designer label suit and shoes was sorely out of place.

  “We’re here,” the driver announced as he parked in the circular brick drive, and climbed out. He rounded the front of the car and opened my door before grabbing my luggage. “Would you like me to carry it inside?” he paused by the trunk.

  “You can set it by the door. Thanks,” I motioned toward him without making eye contact as I stood staring at the home in front of me. It towered over the surrounding trees, and seemed different. I always thought of it as a warm place. A place where love dwelled in every corner. A safe place that was always welcoming and cheery. Without Virginia, it was just a house.

  The driver left me there shortly after setting my bag by the door. I wasn’t ready to go inside yet. I just wanted to stare at the place in the soft glow of the sunset. The bright yellows and oranges of the sun made the white columns in the front seem brighter. The brick was chipped in some places, but the beautiful flowers that had always covered the front yard had been well taken care of. I silently wondered if Virginia had hired someone to maintain the yard for her in the last several years. They’d done a great job and kept it looking just as I’d remembered.

  I wandered around the side of the house, and the closer I crept to the back yard, the stronger the smell of the trees became. When the first pink blossoms came into view, it was as if a thousand memories came flooding back all at once. The sweetness of the cherry blossoms filled the air, bringing my senses to life, and taking me back to all the summers spent among them. I stood there just watching the blooms flutter in the soft spring breeze. If it was earlier in the day, I might wander among them but as the sun sank deeper on the horizon I knew I needed to get inside.

  A key was in the mailbox beside the door right where the lawyer said it would be. I unlocked the door, and sucked in a breath as the door swung open. With the exception of the chandelier hanging in the entry way, every item was covered in a white sheet. I’d heard that Virginia had spent the last of her days in a nursing home, but I hadn’t known that the house had been closed up since then. It smelled musty and old. Dust covered surfaces that hadn’t been touched, and as I wandered further into the house I realized how much work I was really in for during this stay. Did I want the upkeep this house would require on a permanent basis? Could I leave my post as CEO, and move here? The answer was no. My father would kill me. I didn’t even really have the luxury of entertaining that idea. Too much pain was here for me anyway. It hurt my heart even considering selling the place though.

  As I began yanking sheets off of furniture, I decided the least I could do was clean the place up. Maybe once I got it back in living order, I would have a better idea of what I wanted to do. Staying busy might also help keep the memories at bay. I couldn’t let myself feel what this house wanted me to. I might fall apart all over again.

  AFTER LUGGING MY suitcase up the stairs and into one of the guest rooms, I made my way back down to the kitchen. I didn’t know what I was hoping to find, but I needed to eat something. Cabinet after cabinet yielded the same results. There was nothing edible in this house. Whomever had closed it up cleaned everything out except some crackers. I sighed as I slumped against the counter trying to decide what to do. It was getting dark so walking was out of the question. I could call the driver back, but I really didn’t want to. Virginia had a car, but who knew if it even still ran. I could just suffer and not eat, but as my stomach growled again, I gave in and called the driver back. He didn’t seem annoyed, which surprised me since he’d only left me there an hour ago.

  “Thanks,” I offered a half smile as I climbed in the backseat. I had left my coat at the house, but was still dressed in my suit. “I’m not sure how long I’ll stay. If they have Wi-Fi, I might try and get some work done.”

  The driver chuckled, “Have you ever been here, Miss? You’re lucky to get dial-up.”

  “I would have thought that this town would have moved into the twenty-first century in the last ten years,” I rolled my eyes as I settled back in my seat. “Cell phone it is then.”

  “Folks around here like things simple. They’re not up for change very often,” he chuckled again. “You’ll be lucky to find a place that has cable TV.”

  “How can a town so close to one of the busiest cities in the country still live in the stone age?” I groaned.

  “You’re asking the wrong person,” the driver glanced in the mirror at me. “I’ve only been in the area for a few months. People are nice here though. I like it. Say, where are you from?”

  I blew out a breath, “The City.”

  “You here on vacation?” his eyes moved from mine to the road as he watched me.

  “Something like that,” I turned and glanced out the window as the car pulled down Main Street and stopped.

  “Well, here’s the only place to eat right now that’s open. The diner only serves breakfast and lunch. When would you like me to pick you up?” He placed his arm on the back of the seat and turned to face me.

  “Give me an hour?” I opened my door and grabbed my briefcase.

  “I’ll be right back here in an hour then.” He nodded as he turned back around. “Enjoy your meal.” Once I closed the door, he pulled away from the curb and disappeared down the street.

  I waited a minute, giving myself a chance to take in the town. I hadn’t really looked at anything as we drove through town earlier. Seeing the darkened windows of Cook’s Hardware sent a twist through my gut. Was Taylor running the place now or was one of his brothers? Was he in the back office, balancing the bills like his father used to do?

  I turned and looked the other way, noticing the law office I needed to visit in the morning. The diner my driver had mentioned was beside it. That was new, and I wondered how long it had been open. As I scanned the street, a few other shops, some new, some old — all closed for the evening — graced the streets. I needed to come exploring like I used to. Right in front of the local grocery store was the bike rack where my bike spent many days chained. I couldn’t help but smile as I stood there letting the memories seep back in.

  Grandma had sent me into town to grab some bread. I don’t think we really needed it, but she was always trying to show me that I could be independent. I was having trouble securing the lock on my bike when a pair of dirty black chucks appeared in my sight. “Need some help?” the voice asked, causing me to look up. The sun was blinding me, so I lifted my hand to shade my eyes while I slowly stood to face the boy in front of me. “Well?” He waved a hand in front of himself as his head tipped to the side.

  “Thanks,” I shrugged as I stepped back and watched. I’d never seen him before but even with those few words, I knew he was special. “Are you visiting for the summer?” I toed my shoe on the sidewalk hoping that I wouldn’t scuff it. My father would have a fit if I came home with scuffed shoes.

  “Nope. I live here.” He stood and swung his head, shaking the inky dark hair out of his eyes. “My dad owns that store.” He pointed down the street where a man was setting up a display under a green awning.

  “Taylor,” the man yelled. “Are you going to help me or not?” He placed his hands on his hips, much like Taylor was doing at the moment, and glared before breaking into laughter.

  “Taylor’s got a girlfriend,” a boy standing next to the man chided.

  “Shut up!” Taylor yelled. “So what’s your name? You obviously know mine.” He smiled at me as his blue eyes sparkled.

  “Morgan.” I stumbled over the word. My mouth didn’t want to cooperate, and this was the first time a boy this cute had talked to me.

  “Nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand for me to shake before backing up in the direction he’d come. “I gotta go,” he motioned toward his father. “
Maybe we can hang out some time,” he yelled over his shoulder as he took off running toward the store.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I mumbled as I watched him. He was nothing like the boys at school. He looked at my face when he spoke to me. He smiled and seemed interested in what I was saying even though I hadn’t said much.

  The boys at school were more concerned with whose father made how much money. Who was connected to whom; and when, or if, they talked to me, they were more concerned with my boobs than my face. I’d developed early, and all they were interested in was trying to touch me.

  I shook the memory from my brain as I turned to enter the restaurant. It was more of a bar than a restaurant, but my driver had assured me that I could get a burger or something.

  When I pushed open the door, I was met with raucous laughter and twangy country music blasting out of a jukebox. A young woman dressed in jean shorts and a red shirt waved at me in greeting before shouting that she’d be with me in moment. I nodded absently and glanced around. Small wooden tables were scattered to one side, and old vinyl booths lined the opposite wall. A small wooden dance floor filled a corner, and next to it was a long bar. Two women dressed like the girl who greeted me raced around behind it slinging drinks while a man shouted orders through a pass-through in the wall. The place was packed, and as I looked around, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get any work done. It was simply too loud.

  “I can sit at the bar, if that’s ok?” I motioned to where more people were crowding around to order drinks.

  The hostess smiled and gave me a grateful nod and I began weaving through the crowd. I wasn’t used to places like this. Back home, if I ever went out, I got a VIP booth. My father would have a heart attack if he saw me in a place like this. It was slightly liberating to know I was breaking one of his rules. It had been so long since I’d even considered it that it came across as a foreign feeling.

  I placed my briefcase by my feet after I climbed onto one of the stools. The patrons beside me shifted to make room, and one man at the opposite end of the bar let out a low whistle.

  “Shut it, Craig!” one of the bartenders snapped as she glared at the offender. “Don’t mind him.” She rolled her eyes as she paused in front of me. “What can I get ya?”

  “You wouldn’t happen to have any wine back there, would you?” I folded my hands in my lap politely.

  She laughed as she shook her head, “Um no. You city folks seem to forget that we don’t have all that fancy stuff here. How ‘bout a beer?” She tipped her head to the side.

  “Sure,” I shrugged. “Labatt?” One eyebrow climbed as I waited for conformation. I wasn’t much of a beer drinker, but I did hope they carried my brand.

  “You got it.” She smiled as she handed me a menu, and spun to reach in the cooler. After popping the cap off the beer, she placed in on a coaster in front of me, and pulled out a small piece of paper. “Whatcha eatin’?”

  “Cheeseburger and fries,” I smiled as I folded the menu up and handed it to her.

  “What’s your secret?” she giggled.

  My face paled, wondering what she was talking about, “I beg your pardon?”

  “A skinny thing like you. How do you eat like that?” She eyed me before turning to punch my order into the register. “Most of you city folks want a salad anyway.”

  “Lots of salads back home,” I laughed as I sipped my beer. She grinned at me before moving on to another customer.

  Over the next hour, I managed to finish my dinner and beer as I fielded pick-up lines from every man between the ages of twenty-one and fifty. It seemed they all smelled the fresh meat in their midst and wanted a shot. Craig, the whistler, was the most relentless though. Within minutes of the bartender taking my order, he had managed to weasel his way through the crowd and take the seat beside me. It was occupied, but Craig didn’t care. He’d not so nicely told the guy to leave. I’d tried ignoring him, but that seemed to make him try harder.

  “How long you gonna be here?” He leaned over, brushing his arm against mine.

  The smell of grease covered his dirty clothes, and I figured he must have come here from an auto body shop after getting off work. “Not sure.” I refused to look at him. I knew the way this worked. The minute I let the bitchy attitude out, I’d be in trouble.

  “I can show you around,” he persisted.

  “No, thanks.” I turned away further and pulled my cell from my pocket to show him I found it more interesting than him.

  “Frosty,” he chuckled. “I like it.”

  I continued to ignore him as my dinner was placed in front of me. He eventually got the hint and stopped bothering me. After paying my bill, I gathered my things and rose to make my way outside to wait for my driver. Cherryville was such a small community that there wasn’t a worry about being alone at night. Things that happened in the city didn’t happen here.

  Just as I slipped off my stool, I felt it; a chill filled the air, and goosebumps broke out all over my body. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt in years. I shook my head, knowing that there was no way it could be happening. I leaned down to grab my briefcase and scurried toward the door, keeping my chin down and my eyes on the floor. I’d learned this move years ago and had perfected it in New York. When you walked around the city, you didn’t make eye contact. If you did, you were just asking for trouble.

  When I reached the door, I shoved through it and out onto the sidewalk, just in time to see the shadow of my driver’s car. I quickly jumped in, slamming my door behind me as I tried to control my breathing. “Please, take me home,” I panted as I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my emotions back down. I couldn’t deal with this right now. I knew it was him. I wanted to believe it wasn’t, but no other person had ever made me feel that way. He was still here, and even after ten years, he still had a hold over me.

  IT HAD BEEN a long day work. The shipment of shingles I’d ordered for the Mason’s farm had come in late, and when it finally arrived, it was the wrong color. Maryanne, my cousin who worked as a cashier, had chosen today to leave early. And the kicker… Billy, the guy who’s been mowing the Cooper place, came to tell me that someone’s staying there. He’d gone by today, and a woman was there. He didn’t say anything to her, and said that he was planning to ask her the next day if he could keep the job. Virginia Cooper had hired him to keep the place up, and after she died, he just kept going, figuring the new owner would keep him on. When he told me a woman was there, I figured it was a realtor. It couldn’t be her.

  Morgan McGregor, at least that was her name the last time I saw her, was the one that got away. I guess I should clarify that; she was the one I pushed away. Last I’d heard, she’d taken over her daddy’s company and was worth millions now. I honestly couldn’t believe it when I saw the article in the local paper. Having a family in these parts made her newsworthy, but I’d tried to avoid hearing about her. We’d met when we were twelve, and our friendship had molded into something more.

  By the time we were sixteen, we couldn’t stay away from one another. Every day of the two summers after that were spent locked in each other’s arms. I loved her, and she loved me, but her father didn’t approve. After one mistake, he’d punished us in ways that I still haven’t been able to come to grips with even after ten years. After the ultimatum he’d given me, I’d pushed her so far away I wondered if she even still remembered me.

  Now, it was time for a beer. Cowboy Up was local dive that had been open for a few years now. It was the only place to eat in town if you came out after dark. The locals loved it, but it was less than desirable for the tourists. It was a place most of us came to relax after work. We’d have a few beers, shoot the shit about what a crappy day we’d had, and then go home to our families.

  I didn’t come here often. I had too much going on most nights. I shared my parent’s old house with my older brother, Trevor, and his wife. My son and I lived upstairs. When my parents moved to Florida after my dad retired, he gave me the store and my brother the house. Trevo
r worked at the sheriff’s office and provided security for most of the town. He’d agreed to let me stay with him and helped me build a kitchen on the upper level of the house. It worked out great because Sharron, his wife, helped take care of my son CJ. When he was little, my parents helped, but now that he’s in school, Sharron watches him or he spends the day at the store with me. He reminds me of myself when I was his age. He loves riding his bike and goes all over the place. I haven’t seen his mother in years, and I dread the day when he asks me about her. So far, I’ve been able to shield him from that, but I know it’s going to get harder as he gets older.

  After the day I’d had, all I wanted to do tonight was have a few beers and kick back. I wasn’t prepared for the noise that met me when I pushed open the door to Cowboy Up. “Hey Tay, what’s up?” Brit smiled as she placed a hand on her hip. She’d been trying to get me to notice her for months now. This was one of the first times that a flirtatious smile hadn’t followed the greeting.

  “Not much. Gonna sit at the bar,” I motioned toward the other side of the room and I watched her nod.

  “It’s busy. You might have to wait for a stool,” she sighed as I turned to walk away.

  As I approached my usual spot, I noticed someone at the bar. I hadn’t seen her in here before; I knew that for a fact. She was dressed in a navy business suit with her hair tied back in a ponytail. The blonde color brought back long suppressed memories that I fought to force back down. It couldn’t be her. Why would she even be here right now?