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Southern Chance

Page 5

by Natasha Madison


  “Morning, Jana.” I smile at her and then wonder maybe if I should ask her out.

  “Bye, Dad,” Ethan says. He gets out of the truck, and Jana closes the door as soon as he’s out. Pulling off, I call Beau, who answers right away and sounds like he’s panting. “What are you doing?”

  “Running,” he says, and I shake my head.

  “How can you answer when you’re running?” I ask, heading back home.

  “It’s called AirPods, old man.” He laughs. “What can I do for you?” Through it all, Beau has been my best friend. He really stood by my side when Kallie left, but more importantly, he was there when my father died. More than my brother, who only came into town for two days and then ran away before the sun set after burying him.

  “Do you think I should ask Jana out?” I ask, and he laughs.

  “Jana,” he repeats the name, “the teacher who teaches your son?” I roll my eyes. “’Cause that sounds like a great idea. How do you think the next parent-teacher conference will go after you dump her two dates in?”

  “What if I don’t dump her?’ I ask. “I mean, she’s cute.”

  “Yeah, that’s always something that you want to hear from a date. You’re cute.”

  “What am I supposed to say?” I ask. “And first of all, who are you to talk? When was the last time you went on a date?”

  “Two weeks ago,” he says without skipping a beat. “I had a date for a charity event.”

  I groan. “That’s not a date.” Shaking my head, I say, “That’s your mother playing matchmaker.”

  “Same thing,” he tells me. “I don’t want to date. I have to focus on the mayor’s office, and dating isn’t up there on my list of shit to do.”

  I pull up to my house, and I spot Casey there, leaning against his truck as he waits for me. “What the fuck?”

  “What happened?” he asks.

  “Casey is here,” I say, stopping my truck and turning it off. “I’ll call you back.”

  “Don’t get yourself arrested, Jacob. I am not in office yet, so the only thing I can do is bail you out,” he says, and I disconnect the call, getting out of the truck.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, cutting through the bullshit, and he looks at me.

  “It seems there is something on my property that needs to be moved,” he says, and I look at him with a confused look on my face no doubt. Why would I give a shit what is on his property, and why would I need to know? “There is a rock that seems to be in the wrong place, and I’m just letting you know that I’m having it moved.” I don’t know why it feels like he just kicked me in the stomach, but it does. “I’m guessing by the look on your face that you know what rock I’m talking about.”

  I put my game face on. “Fuck if I care what you do with that rock. Toss it in the creek. Blow it up for all I care.”

  “Perfect. I just assumed since you tried to cut down the tree right next to it, you might want to know.” He looks at me, putting his hands in his back pockets. We’ve never actually been friends since he was the same age as my brother, but we always got along. Well, we did until he hid Kallie from me and then refused to tell me where she was.

  I shake my head. “Don’t care.”

  “Sure,” he says, turning and getting into his truck. “You keep telling yourself that, and maybe one day, you’ll actually believe yourself.”

  “What does that mean?” I say, and it’s his turn now to shake his head.

  “I’m not spelling shit out for you,” he says, starting the truck. “The only thing I know is my sister is finally back at home, and I’m going to do what I need to do to make sure she comes back often.”

  “Again,” I say, “don’t care.”

  “Again,” he mimics me, “you keep telling yourself that.”

  “I wasn’t the one who left without looking back!” I shout.

  “Wasn’t her who got knocked up by another guy!” He throws it in my face, and I just shake my head. “Take care, Jacob.” He pulls out of my driveway, and I want to shout and tell him to fuck off. I want to shout and tell him that he knows fucking nothing, but I do what I’ve been doing for the past eight years. I keep the secret to myself, burying it deep. I walk into my house and close the door. Tossing my phone on the counter, I walk straight to my bedroom.

  I collapse on the bed and turn to look out the window at the trees in the distance. My thoughts go back to the last time I went to the rock.

  “What exactly did you want me to come for?” Beau asked as we walked through the woods toward Kallie’s property. I parked as close as I could, then got out and grabbed the chainsaw.

  “I need to do something and figured that you had nothing else to do.” I laughed and walked along the creek. Water slowly worked itself downstream. The sound of birds chirping mixed with the sounds of water trickling.

  “I don’t think anything that you have to do with a chainsaw is a good idea,” he said as he continued walking. Finally, I walked over the hill and saw the lone rock right next to five elm trees. The sun made its way through the leaves, shining on the rock like a spotlight.

  Even though I wanted to go sit on the rock and see if I could still feel her all around me, I ignored it. Instead, I walked straight to the tree where I had carved our names into one day. We were lying with her head on my chest and my arms around her. My hand came out, and I traced the letters with my finger, lost in the thought of her again, but I was done. It was enough or at least that was what I thought. I pulled the string and the chainsaw roared to life. I was about to cut the fucking tree down when Beau shouted.

  “Are you out of your mind?” he said once I shut off the chainsaw. “You can’t cut down this tree.”

  I looked around. “Why not?”

  “Well, for one, I think it’s against the law since it’s, you know …” He looked around now. “Not your property, and two, because it’s not a good fucking idea.”

  “My name is on it”—I pointed at him, and he rolled his eyes—“so I think that makes it mine.” I knew I sounded stupid, and I knew that it was not my best idea, but I just wanted to bury another piece of us.

  “Well, I think that Casey would not agree with you,” he said, and then I looked down and thought about it. I knew he was right, so instead of cutting down the tree, I cut my name off it. I expected to be gone before anyone saw us, but then I heard a galloping horse approaching. I saw him through the trees as he guided his horse toward us.

  “What in the ever-loving fuck are you doing?” he said as soon as he got the horse to stop beside me.

  “Nothing.” Beau tried to calm the situation.

  “I want my name off your tree.” I pointed at the tree.

  “Did you think you would be able to cut down a fucking tree and me not notice?” he asked, shaking his head, then he looked at Beau. “Make sure he doesn’t cut more than he needs to.” He kicked his horse and took off.

  “I’m right here,” I yelled at his retreating back, “son of a bitch.” I started the chainsaw, and in five minutes, our names were in little pieces on the grass. All that was there now was the light brown bark. My hands came out, and I traced it with my finger. Blank, fresh, new.

  “Knock, knock, knock.” I hear the front door open, and I sit up, my mind coming back to the present. “Hello?” I hear my mother’s voice, and then she finally finds me. “There you are. Why are you in bed?”

  “I was just lying down. I didn’t really sleep last night,” I say and avoid the sadness in her eyes. “What’s up?”

  “I have a couple of errands to run, and I was hoping that you would come with me. Maybe we can have lunch.” She smiles, and I look at her.

  “I was hoping to just relax,” I say, and she frowns at me. “But yeah, let’s go shopping. I need to get some things at the grocery store anyway.”

  She claps her hands together. “Oh, goody.”

  I get up and follow her out of the house, getting into my truck. “Where do you want to go first?”

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nbsp; “How about we go get something to eat, and then we can tackle the errands? I need to go to a couple of places.”

  I smile at her and make my way to the town diner. The whole time, I try to forget about the memories that are suddenly crashing in on me.

  Chapter Eight

  Kallie

  I knew coming home would be hard, and I have to admit I thought it was going to be bad. I wasn’t expecting to miss everything so much once I finally saw it again.

  Just the smell of going into the church brought me back to my best memories of growing up. All those memories included Jacob, but it also included my memories. “How have I been gone for eight years, yet the town looks like it did when I left?”

  “Things change,” my mother says, pulling into the parking lot. “It’s just not an apparent change.” I get out of the truck and wait for Olivia to get out of the truck and look around.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen so much green in my whole life.” She smiles at me. “And not once did I hear a siren.” She puts her head back and smells the air. “And what is that fresh smell?”

  “I can tell you it isn’t pollution,” I joke with her, and the three of us walk from the parking lot into the grocery store. My mother was right. Things change; they just aren’t apparent. The inside of the grocery store looks the same, but it’s not. They have a little section when you come in that has all the natural items.

  “Oh, there is my section,” Olivia says, walking toward the one shelf.

  I walk to my left to grab a cart, and I’m surprised that the metal carts have now been replaced with the red plastic ones. We go through the fruits and vegetables first. My mother picks up some apples, and then I grab a couple of things, putting them in the basket. We stop at the butcher counter, and the man shrieks when he sees me. “Well, I’ll be.” He smiles at me, walking over, and I recognize him except his hair is whiter now on the side, and the hair on top of his head is gone. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?” he says, and I look at him. His white jacket is just like he always wears with a big white apron on in front of him with blood stains.

  “Mr. Johnson.” I smile back at him. “It’s so great to see you.”

  He nods. “You were very missed,” he says, looking over at my mother who stands there beaming with pride. She puts her hands around my shoulder. “Especially by that lady.”

  “I know.” I look down at the brown floor. “But I’m back.”

  “That’s good to hear,” he says, and then he looks at my mother, who places her order with him. “Why don’t you guys go do your shopping, and I’ll bring this to you when I’m done?”

  We go through the aisles, stopping every second step as someone I know welcomes me home. I get so many hugs it feels like I’ve been gone forever. “How does it feel?” Mrs. Henderson asks, and I look at her. “To be back home. Especially after everything—”

  I don’t make her finish. “It’s great to be back.” I cut her off because I don’t want to feed into the gossip mill.

  “I’m sure it is, dear,” she says, patting my hand on the cart. “You just need to gain a few, and you’ll be good to go.”

  “It was so nice seeing you,” my mother says with a tight smile. “See you Sunday at church.”

  “See you then,” she says, pushing her cart and walking away.

  “Well, that wasn’t bad.” I laugh to my mother and start to walk forward when I stop in my tracks, and I want to crawl into a hole. My mother stops next to me, not sure, and then she looks up and sees Cristine, Jacob’s mother, walking down the aisle looking around. When she finally spots us, her smile drops from her face, and in its place is a stare of death.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she says loudly, and I look around now, wondering just how big this showdown is going to be. I see that it’s just the three of us, and I have to wonder if it’s because people know and are avoiding this aisle.

  “Crissy, don’t you dare,” my mother says, stepping in front of me to shield me.

  “Don’t I dare?” She pushes her cart closer to us, then she walks around and comes face-to-face with us. I hold my mother’s hand and stand beside her.

  “Don’t I dare?” I say now. “Don’t I dare?” I point at myself.

  “You,” she hisses and points at me. “You left without so much as a second thought. Do you know how broken you left him?” She says the last words, and I feel as if she slapped me in the face. I flinch back.

  “He wasn’t the only one who was left broken!” my mother shouts, and people around us now look at us. “You have no idea what she went through.”

  “How would we know? She never told anyone,” Cristine says.

  “Tell you?” I say softly, putting my arms around my mother. “I needed to tell you how your son destroyed me.” I blink away the tears that are threatening to come no matter how much I fight them.

  “She wasn’t the one who changed anything, Crissy,” my mother says, and she doesn’t hide the tears. “I lost my daughter that day. You still have your son. Your son who is always around. You have your son and your grandson.” I pull her closer to me, ignoring the pain when she says grandson. “So don’t even think you got the short end of the stick.”

  “What the hell?” When I hear his voice, my eyes look up, and I’m stuck in place. My chest aches, my stomach falls, and my knees tremble. It’s everything bombarding me at the same time—hatred, sadness, anger, and then love. The fucking love that I’ve felt for him for my whole life.

  The tears that I fought so hard to hold back deceive me. One falls out, and I brush it away, hoping no one says anything. I look away from him, away from the way he looks at me.

  “We were just leaving,” I say and look at my mother. “Let’s go.” I’m about to turn around when I see Olivia looking around frantically and then calling my name.

  “Kallie,” she says, her chest rising and falling, and I notice her hands are shaking. “Our place was ransacked.”

  “What?” I ask and grab her hand.

  “That was a detective. He called to let us know that someone had broken into our place and trashed it.”

  “Oh my God.” I look at my mother. “We have to go.” I look back at Olivia, who looks around her to make sure no one is pointing a camera at us.

  “Let’s go,” my mother says. I turn to walk away, and then I feel his hand on my arm. I know it’s his hand because I would know his touch in the dark. Glancing down at his fingers, I stand here for longer than I care to until his hand drops, and my mother looks back at him.

  “What detective?” he asks. I take a deep breath and turn. No matter how many times I thought about this moment, no matter how many times I role-played when I was drunk, nothing could have prepared me for being so close to him.

  “This doesn’t concern you,” I say. “Nothing about me or my life concerns you.” It’s his turn now to take a step back, and I turn and walk out of the shop with Olivia by my side.

  “Holy shit,” Olivia says from beside me. “Holy shit, did you just tell him to fuck off but in a nice Southern way?”

  “I have no idea what I said. The only thing I was trying to do was block his smell.”

  I pull open the truck door while my mother jumps into the front and makes sure we are all in before she pulls out of the grocery store parking lot. “We need to call your father,” my mother says as she speeds through town, and all I can do is close my eyes. Close my eyes and hope to God that it’s over, and I can leave here. That I never have to be that close to him again.

  When we pull up to the house, my father and brother are walking around the house. They both look as if they are going to war with shotguns by their side.

  “Oh my God,” Olivia says from the back, “is that a shotgun?”

  “No,” I say, looking at her, “that’s two shotguns.”

  I get out of the truck and wait for Olivia, who is still shaking. Trying to walk on the gravel in her heels, she almost trips, but surprise, Casey is there to catch h
er. “Careful, darlin’.”

  “Oh, would you please put that shit away?” I look at him. “You can’t flirt with her. She’s not in her right mind.” I walk to the house, opening the door, and go straight to the cabinet in the living room where I know my father keeps his whiskey. “I need a drink.”

  My mother, Olivia, Casey, and my father watch me unscrew the bottle and take a pull from it. The amber liquid hits my tongue and then burns all the way down. I cough after the second gulp, and I think I might actually get sick.

  “Okay, if you gals don’t tell me what is going on, I don’t know if I can calm this one down.” My father uses his thumbs to motion to Casey, who stands there with his hands in his back pockets.

  I hold out the bottle for Olivia, who walks over and takes it from me, spitting it out after a sip. “That’s not whiskey.” She’s coughing and trying to catch her breath.

  “It’s like whiskey,” I say, looking at the bottle. “It’s just homemade.”

  “I can’t breathe,” she says through her coughing. “It burns so bad.”

  “Enough!” Casey shouts, and my mother sits on the couch and puts her hands in her lap as if she’s going to be watching a movie. Olivia looks at me almost like she doesn’t know what to say, and I just shrug.

  “I think you just do it like a Band-Aid,” I say. “Just come out with it.”

  “So I was in the gluten-free section at the grocery story, and my phone rings,” she says. I look at Casey, and I almost laugh at the way he is bouncing on his heels. “It was from an unknown number, and I didn’t answer the first time or the second, but then I got pissed.”

  “Darlin’,” Casey says between clenched teeth, “can we go just a touch faster?”

  “I’m trying, Casey,” she says, and he just nods at her. If it was anyone else, I think he would have swore, which makes this even more interesting. “So, I pick up the phone with an angry tone.” She motions with her phone to her ear. “And right when I’m about to tell the person I have no comment, he tells me his name is Detective Gonzalez with the LAPD.”

 
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