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Fall for You: Boys of Alabama

Page 7

by Mica Halstead


  “Hey buddy,” I say softly as I crouch down in front of him, “are you lost?”

  He takes in a shuddering breath, trying to control his sobs. “Y-y-yes, I lost my Ave.” He lets out a little wail at the end and I swear my heart is breaking in half. I lean down and scoop him up without another thought. His little arms circle my neck and he clings to me.

  “Well, what do you say I help you look for your Ave?” I brush the tears off his face and turn in a circle, trying to find anyone else that might know where this sweet boy came from. He nods his head, tucking his face into my neck, fidgeting with the buttons on my shirt. I start walking up and down every aisle, I’m rounding the corner into aisle four when I hear a panicked voice start shouting.

  “Blake! Blake Austin Scott, what have I told you about wandering off?! I turn my back for one seco…” her voice cuts off as she rounds the corner and sees us making our way down the aisle. It’s Avery, Genevieve’s sister. She’s wearing an apron and looking a lot distraught. “Oh, thank God,” she reaches her arms out for him when she gets close enough and he leaps into them, latching his little arms around her neck and giggling. “Sowwy, Ave. I just wanted an apple, but when I turned around yous was gone!” I stifle a laugh while Avery rolls her eyes.

  "Sorry, sometimes he gets away from me, but we almost always find him," he giggles at her joke and she tickles his stomach, standing him up on the ground and shooting me a grateful smile. "Thank you," she grins, glancing in my cart and smirking at me.

  "Wine, chocolate, and a trashy romance novel? My kinda woman."

  I laugh, not the slightest bit embarrassed. "Just the essentials," I say. "I better get out of here. I have so much grading to do. It's ridiculous." Avery finishes plopping Blake in the shopping cart.

  "Ugh," she groans. "Same. Only instead of grading I have homework to help with, a kitchen to clean, and I need to finish sewing Gen's dress for homecoming." She huffs a piece of hair out of her face, looking every bit the frazzled-single-parent-sister-twenty-three-year-old that she is. She smiles shyly at me, "see you around," she says before spinning the cart around and heading the other way.

  "See ya…" I trail off as she walks away. I hem and haw for a second but before I can think better of it, I stop her. "Hey, hold up. What do you say about a wine night at my place? You can even bring the kids." A huge grin splits her face.

  "I'd say you've got yourself a deal." And just like that, I've found my first real friend in Alabama.

  ◆◆◆

  3 years ago

  I enter the yoga studio. It’s in the warehouse district inside a converted old bottle distribution warehouse. The entrance is discreet, you wouldn’t know it was here unless you were looking for it. The lobby is brightly lit and there is a half-moon hanging from the ceiling next to a sign that says, ‘Half Moon Yoga Studio’. The girl at the front desk has her hair in a top knot, a t-shirt sporting the company's name hanging off one shoulder, and she is jamming to some country music. Hard. So hard she hasn’t even noticed me standing there yet.

  “Hi, I’m here for the 2 p.m. hot yoga class,” I say loudly over the music. She screams and the book she is reading flies out of her hand and hits me in the chest.

  “Jesus christ, you sneaky ninja,” she laughs and shakes her head, “you scared the bejeezus out of me!” I hand her the book that I’ve recovered from the floor and apologize.

  “It’s okay. It’s fine. Everything is a-okay,” she claps her hands together and reaches her hand out to shake mine. “Clarissa Moon, welcome to Half Moon Yoga! Now, I know you’ve never been here before because girl, I would remember you.” She makes her way around the counter and motions for me to follow her. I oblige.

  “Uh nope, newbie. I do yoga at home mostly. I’m newer to the area and I heard a group of girls at the nail salon the other day talking about this place and I thought I’d give it a go,” I say, following her into a studio and hanging my purse on the rack by the cubbies that have extra mats and blocks stuffed in them.

  “Now, girlfriend this is hot yoga, so we are gonna get hot and we are gonna get sweaty, and then you and I are going to go out for drinks afterwards because you may be new to the area but there are definitely shadows hidden behind those beautiful eyes of yours.” Clarissa announces, heading to the front of the room and cranking the heat up.

  We went out for drinks that night and the rest was history. We became best friends. Drinks turned into girls’ nights at her apartment which turned into brunch dates and eventually she offered me a full-time position as a yoga instructor at Half-Moon and I couldn’t turn down the offer. I spent roughly three years connected at the hip to Riss and it’s been hard being apart from her. Which is why when I opened my door to a knock two hours ago and she pounced on me like a spider monkey I cried like a baby.

  “I’m still in shock. Say it again,” I laugh, asking her for the third time. She flops down on the couch with her second glass of wine and points her finger at me.

  “I’m not repeatin’ myself again, girl, so listen this time. I closed Half-Moon, I packed everything that would fit in my car and sold everything that wouldn’t, and then I drove my happy ass all the way to Alabama because one - I missed you too much and I knew you’d let me crash on your couch,” she pauses for dramatic effect.

  “Obviously, now go on.”

  “And two, my life is a screamin’ hot mess and I had to get out of Jersey,” she finishes, taking another sip of wine and avoiding eye contact with me.

  “That!” I shout, pointing my finger at her. “The hot mess part. That’s the part I want to discuss.”

  “Nope. Nuh uh. I’m not ready to visit that topic just yet. I need more wine and food.” She says, putting her now empty glass down on the coffee table and tucking her feet underneath her. Something big had to have happened to make her come down here but I won’t pry. I’m just thrilled that she’s here.

  “Alright, Riss. I will let it go. For now.” She rolls her eyes and I laugh. She’s up now and wandering my house, taking everything in. I try to see it from her eyes. A small couch that was here when I moved in, a thrift store dining room table, only a few pictures placed around the small space. Of me and Ron, me and Clarissa, and a few of me and my mom when I was younger.

  I clear my throat, “I know it’s not much,” I begin, but that’s all the farther I get. Clarissa turns around and she’s got tears running down her face. Stunned, I get up and pull her into my arms.

  “Hey, shhh,” she’s sobbing now. “What’s wrong? Clarissa Layne, you know you can talk to me. We’re best friends,” I console her. She pulls back and swipes the tears from her face.

  “I know,” she says, giving me a watery smile, “I know. And I want to tell you, I will tell you. I just need a little more time, but I also want you to know that I don’t ever want to hear you talk down about what you’ve done here. About this life you’ve built. You’re incredible, you deserve all of this and more,” she finishes, handing me back my wine glass and guiding us back to the couch.

  “Thank you,” I sigh, flopping back down, “I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I know I need to tell someone about the texts from Jason, so it all tumbles out of mouth and pretty soon I’m filling her in on everything. The texts, the weird feelings I’ve been getting. I just know he’s here in Alabama.

  “That son of a bitch,” she seethes, “how dare he think it’s okay to text you and scare you like that.” I get why she’s upset but I expected this. I always knew escaping Jase wouldn’t be easy. It was ridiculous to think I could just run away and he wouldn’t follow me and I tell that to Riss.

  “It doesn’t matter if you ran away. It was run or die, Alexis. And you chose to fight, and you’ve been clawing your way out of that life ever since. You are strong and brave; don’t you dare let him make you think any differently.”

  “I know, I know. If it goes on, I’ll go to the cops. But for now, can I pleeeeease just
enjoy my best friend?” She grins.

  “Of course. Now tell me more about your hot neighbor,” she squeals, flopping to her knees onto the couch beside me.

  ◆◆◆

  The beginning of the week came and went. It’s been great spending time with Clarissa, I didn’t realize how much I missed her until she showed up on my doorstep. She’s been spending her days scouring Monroeville for a temporary apartment and looking for a job and then we spend the evening together, catching up and binge-watching terrible TV shows. It was just before daybreak as I dragged myself out of bed. Riss is still sleeping and I’ve been feeling sluggish the last few days and I could probably guess why. It’d been weeks since I did yoga. I decided to take my mat to the backyard. Gathering my purple mat and my water bottle, I made my way outback and settled onto the deck for my session.

  The sun was just starting to peek through the trees, bathing the yard in oranges and pinks, as I came out of Child's Pose. The bright rays began to kiss my face. Tilting my face back to soak up the warmth, I moved into Eagles Pose. I was having a hard time finding that place of zen. I felt like I was being watched. Cracking an eye open I glanced around but saw nothing.

  My quaint little cottage backed up to a set of woods, so it was hard to see much farther than the tree line. Ignoring the nagging feeling that there were eyes on me, I moved into a bow pose. Stretching as far back as I could and inhaling deeply. I exhaled and moved out of the pose. I opened my eyes and startled.

  “Jesus Christ, Zane. You scared the shit out of me,” I clutched my chest, brushing the hairs that had escaped my messy bun out of my face. Right there in front of me he stood, cracking up. “So glad you think this is funny,” I deadpanned.

  “Sorry Lex,” he managed to wheeze out between laughs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” I had been spending more time at Ford’s, dinners here and there, so I was getting to know the kids pretty well and they were feeling more comfortable around me. He straightened up and cut his eyes over to his house and back to me. I reached for my water bottle to take a drink and narrowed my eyes at him.

  “What’s up? Did you need something?”

  “I wanted to say something to dad, but I don’t know if I should. I’m not sure if it’s really that big of a deal….” He trailed off, looking nervous.

  “Hey, if something is bothering you, you can always talk to me about it. Regardless of if you think it’s a big deal or not, it will feel good to get it off your chest.” I prodded him.

  “Yeah,” he nodded, continuing, “okay, so, the other night Sophie came over to babysit us. And she’s great, I like her a lot. Not like that,” he continued, making a face, “just, she’s a good babysitter and she doesn’t talk to me like I’m some stupid kid. Anyways, I fell asleep playing on my iPad and woke up and I was thirsty, so I started to go downstairs for a bottle of water. And as I was walking by dad's door Sophie was coming out.”

  I squinted at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

  “Okay… well, did she say what she was doing?”

  “She said she was putting laundry away. But she didn’t have a basket and she’s never done our laundry before. She’s just a babysitter, not like a housekeeper or whatever. But she looked really guilty and when she walked away, I peeked in dad's room and it looked like someone had been laying in his bed. He makes it every morning, but it looked like rumpled or whatever.”

  Hmm. Weird. “Maybe she just thought she was helping out with the laundry and she sat down on the bed to fold it? I’m not sure buddy. But if you want, I can mention it to your dad?”

  His shoulders instantly relax. “Could you? I don’t want to make it into a big deal, but I don’t want her to be in dad's room either. It’s weird.” He scrunched his nose up, looking adorable. I reached out and ruffled his hair.

  “Sure thing, kiddo. I’ll just tell him you were concerned.” He cracked a huge smile.

  “Thanks Lex!” He starts to turn back towards the house and then he spun back around and snapped his fingers. “Oh! I almost forgot! This was in our mail yesterday!” He hands me an envelope that he’s been holding this entire time.

  I watch Zane cross the yard and make sure he goes back inside before I open the envelope he gave me. Using my finger, I tear the sealed flap and pull out the plain white piece of paper and unfold it. My hands begin to shake as I skim my eyes over it.

  Don’t forget who you belong to, bitch. See you soon.

  Your husband

  I flip the envelope over. There’s no stamp in the top right corner and there’s no return address. This was hand delivered. My eyes scan the backyard, that nagging feeling of being watched pricking my skin, causing goosebumps all over. I quickly gather my yoga mat and water bottle and turn and flee to the house. Sliding the door shut behind me, I quickly click all the locks into place.

  All of my belongings crashed to the floor as my legs gave out and I slid down the patio door, panic and fear seizing my heart. It was one thing to get texts, but knowing he’d found me. He knew what he was doing when he stuck that envelope in the wrong mailbox. He was sending me a message, that he could still do whatever he wanted, but I was no longer that same weak woman I was when I fled New Jersey. I had risen from the ashes that were my fucking life, and I was building something great here in Alabama. How dare he think he could show up and scare me into going back with him. I’ve been preparing for this for YEARS.

  Pushing up off the floor, I make my way to my room. Snatching the key from my nightstand drawer, I go to the closet. Standing on my tiptoes and feeling around the top shelf until my hand met the cold metal of the locked box, I pull it off the shelf. Sliding that silver key into the lock and lifting the lid, there lies the Ruger handgun that I had purchased in Chicago a year after my escape. Pulling it out, I check to make sure it’s still loaded.

  “Hey, is everything okay I heard a cra.. Jesus christ, Alexis!” Clarissa shouts, her eyes bugging out of her head. “What in the fuck are you doing with that gun?” I meet her eyes, snatching the envelope off the bed and holding it out for her to see.

  “Where did you get this?” She asks, dropping down on the bed beside me, turning the envelope over in her hand.

  “There’s no use looking for a return address,” I say, my voice emotionless. “This was hand delivered…” I trail off, leaving what needs said unsaid. That my husband knows exactly where I am and what I’m doing. That he’s found me.

  “Fuck.” Clarissa says.

  Fuck indeed. I load one into the chamber and drop the gun back into the lock box. If my husband was coming for me, I was sure as shit going to be ready for him.

  ◆◆◆

  I’m unloading my grocery bags in Ford's kitchen when he comes sauntering in, buttoning the cuffs on his dark blue dress shirt. He crowds me at the counter and sweeps my hair to one side, pressing a kiss to my neck. I sigh and lean back into him as he rests his hands on my hips.

  “What’s all this?” He asks, taking inventory of all the things on his counter.

  “Just some stuff I grabbed at the store. I was going to bake cookies with the kids. Is that okay?” I ask hesitantly, not wanting to overstep my boundaries but still wanting to get to know them better.

  “Of course that’s okay,” he says, shrugging on his suit jacket and pocketing his keys. “They’ll love it.”

  He’s made his way back over to me and takes my face in his hands, leaning down, he presses a sweet kiss to my lips.

  “Thank you for this,” he says, releasing me and calling for the kids. “I shouldn’t be too long.”

  He has a parent teacher conference tonight and Nina can’t watch the kids, so I volunteered. “Of course,” I say. “It’ll be fun.” I hear both kids coming down the stairs so I put a little space between the two of us. He hands out hugs and goodbyes to both kids.

  “Be good for Miss Lex,” he says sternly before disappearing out the front door, leaving the three of us alone. Zane peeks at the stuff on the counter.

&
nbsp; “Is all this for us?” He asks, eyeing the bag of chocolate chips. I open the bag and dump a few into both of their hands.

  “Sure is! We are going to make some cookies. How does that sound?”

  “Cookies! Yesss!” Aria claps her hands together and drags a footstool out of the kitchen pantry, clamoring up beside me at the counter. Zane sits on the stool opposite us, still leery of what is happening.

  “Not just any cookies,” I start, laying the recipe card on the counter and grabbing a mixing bowl from the cupboard. “This is a super secret recipe.”

  “Secret?” Aria asked, her eyes as big as saucers. I smile and nod my head.

  “Top secret. My mama gave me this recipe and she got it from her mama. And her mama got it from HER mama, which was my great grandma.” I say and glance at Zane to see he’s listening intently. “And when I was about 14 my mama told me that I could only share this recipe with someone super special to me.” Emotion clogs my throat a little and I make myself busy dragging Aria’s stool to the sink so that she can wash her hands.

  “Can your mama come help us?” Aria asks and my heart breaks a little.

  “No baby, but I wish she could. See, my mama died when I was in high school and this recipe is one of the only things I have left of her.” I say, my voice cracking a little. The death of a parent is something that doesn’t ever really go away, and it still makes me emotional. Her hands are dried and we are back at the counter in front of Zane and he’s staring at me.

  “Our mom’s dead too,” he says, and I reach out and rest my hand on top of his.

  “I know, bud. And see, that’s why I want to share this recipe with you. My mama said I should share it with someone special and since we share the fact that our mama’s are no longer here on Earth but up in Heaven, I thought I should share it with you.” I turn away for a second to look for Ford’s measuring cup and am a little shocked when I feel Zane’s arms wrap around my middle as he gives me a hug. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and squeeze before he makes his way to the sink to wash his hands so we can get started. This is just another reminder that I’m right where I should be.

 

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