“That’s so wonderful. I love what this year’s committee has done with the event,” my mother added. She looked at me, shaking her head. “Last year, Lorraine Duncan was in charge, and she made an absolute mess of things. She completely forgot to include activities for the children, even though the committee mentioned it a number of times. People were so disappointed.”
“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” I said. “It’ll be nice to have the opportunity to put myself out there, maybe drum up some work.”
Honestly, I was so bored at work. My job was perfect for George—an older man ready for retirement—because it was so incredibly slow. But for me, someone who was accustomed to running at eighty miles per hour, it was too slow. I had wanted the change of pace, sure, but there was one day last week where I literally sat at my desk all day making a chain of paperclips that stretched from one side of the office to the other. That couldn’t be my career. It just couldn’t. I aspired to do much more than that.
“Things slow at the practice?” Dad guessed.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “I’m sure part of it is just that people need to get comfortable with Mr. Smith not being the go-to attorney anymore, and part of it is that small towns aren’t exactly active in the legal department.”
“You should look into online consulting or something.” Bryan’s suggestion intrigued me.
“What do you mean exactly?”
He shrugged. “A lot of professionals are doing freelance work through the internet these days. A couple guys from my firm do consulting work. People send them plans or ideas and they give feedback. They don’t take on the full job, but they give their professional opinions and get paid for it. My guess is there’s a market for legal consulting...particularly on the internet since that way you can widen your audience beyond just Oak River.”
“That’s actually a brilliant idea,” I said.
“Well, thanks. I do have them occasionally.”
“Uh-huh.” Karla mumbled.
“Babe,” Bryan said, looking at his wife with his hand held dramatically over his chest. “You wound me.”
“You’ll be just fine,” Karla said, not skipping a beat as she continued to eat her meal.
“Mommy, why did you hurt daddy’s heart?” Luke asked.
Karla rolled her eyes at her husband’s dramatics and leaned over to quietly address her five-year-old son’s question. I had to stifle a laugh when I heard him ask his mother what “dramatic” meant.
- 27 -
Lightning did not strike me on the way home from my parents’ house that night. But it might as well have since I was struck with both good and bad thoughts on the short drive to my cottage.
The common denominator?
Danny.
In one moment, I wondered if it was possible for us to start over. The next moment, I remembered one of the many times we fell apart.
“We still have one more embryo we can try,” Dr. Rowland offered, but even he didn’t sound optimistic.
“We’ve tried three. If the third one wasn’t a charm, what makes you think the fourth one will be?” I asked. My tone was bitter. I was over this appointment. I was over this process. I was just over it all.
“Jess,” Danny scolded, placing his hand on my shoulder in an attempt to what? Calm me? Console me? It wouldn’t work. I shrugged him off. I was so sick of his optimism and positivity. I wanted to shout from the rooftops, “Why me?” But that wouldn’t get me anywhere.
Nothing seemed to get me anywhere.
It was hopeless.
I was hopeless.
“Take some time to think about it,” Dr. Rowland suggested.
I ignored his words as I stood from my stupid wingback chair and collected my coat and purse.
“Jess,” Danny pleaded. “Jessica.”
I ignored him, too. Him and his stupid super sperm.
I walked out of the office and out of the building, never planning on setting foot back in that house of false hope again.
I had been so fucking optimistic the first time I walked in those doors. I thought that place would hold all the answers. Problem or not, I was certain the fancy doctors would be able to fix it—fix me—and all would be right in the world. The truth was, it didn’t matter how much of my inheritance I’d spent.
I was defective.
“Jessica,” Danny called after me as I made my way to my car. “Will you wait a minute?”
I stopped walking and let him catch up. I wanted to cry. For the first time since all this started, I wanted to cry. But I wouldn’t do it. Not in front of him. I couldn’t let him see me break. I couldn’t let him see how deeply this affected me. He wasn’t an idiot, he probably knew, but I wasn’t going to show him.
“Baby, it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” He took me into his arms and held me close.
I let him hold me and said nothing.
There was nothing we could do.
I was nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
The memory was bitter. If we thought we’d still had a chance back then, we were wrong. That was the real end. The point of no return—when I had officially shut Danny out. I stopped smiling. I stopped talking. I stopped praying. I just...stopped.
He never did though. Danny never stopped. He gave one hundred percent until the very end. He went to work or to class, and he’d always come home with a smile for me. He would kiss me on the forehead when he came or went and quietly sighed when I just sat there...nearly catatonic.
I remembered pieces of those days, but I was hardly able to paint a full picture. It all blended together. I spent a lot of days just staring off into space. I watched mindless reality television shows, not fully paying attention to anything that was happening on the shows or around me. I didn’t even know what Danny had done those days. What he did when he was home. I never saw him. He could have been right in front of me, and I wouldn’t have seen him.
Those thoughts...those memories...were why I was certain we would never work out. He must have harbored so much resentment towards me. What I saw that day at the farm was nothing. He must have had so much more to say to me. Right? I mean Danny was always perfect, but he wasn’t that perfect, was he? So perfect that he’d completely forgive me?
He did seem to forgive me, though. The way he held me. The way he’d kissed my forehead. It felt like not a day had gone by. There was also the fact that he’d flat out told me he still loved me. That was no small thing. But you could love someone and still not forgive them, right? You could love them and still be so hurt from whatever it was that they did?
Part of me wanted to drive straight over to the farm and throw myself at his feet, begging his forgiveness. The sane, logical part of me drove straight back to the cottage and tucked myself into bed.
Alone.
The way I was destined to stay for the rest of my existence if I didn’t just forgive myself already.
Danny had told me countless times that it wasn’t my fault. The infertility wasn’t my fault. I understood that and that wasn’t exactly what had me tied up in knots. My reaction...that was my fault. My actions. My rejection of Danny was all on me. That is what I had a hard time forgiving myself for.
He’d been my everything. I took him for granted. Maybe some selfish part of me thought that no matter what I did, he would always be there. He always was there...even before we were a couple...for as long as I could remember.
Until he wasn’t.
I laid in bed that night, restless, thinking of Danny. It was the place my mind always wandered to when I wasn’t careful. I thought about the what ifs and the could have beens.
But most of all...most of all I just missed Danny. I missed him so much.
- 28 -
A few weeks passed, and I’d only seen Danny a handful of times in passing. In a sense, it felt like we were taking steps backwards. We’d had little moments here and there and then periods of nothing. I knew he was busy though.
The school year had begun, as had football season. I may have gone to the first two home games. I hid pretty high up in the stands so he wouldn’t see me, but I was sure he knew I was there. Word would have traveled down the bleachers that I’d been there.
Maybe space was what I needed though. Absence made the heart grow fonder and all that. Not like my heart could possibly have grown any fonder of Danny. It was maxed out with love for him. Always had been, and I knew it always would be.
I manned my booth at the Fall Festival. The weather hadn’t turned bitter cold yet, so I was comfortable in a short sleeve button-down shirt and jeans. Karla worked some magic and arranged for my booth to be right beside the newspaper booth, so I had Melissa and Dad right next door. Some of the other staff came by to trade places with them throughout the day, but as the owner and the owner’s daughter, they stuck around.
The sun was beginning to set; the air getting a slight chill to it. I had a beige cardigan in my bag that I slipped on after my third shiver. The smells of deep fried goodness floated through the air, and I itched for a funnel cake.
“How’s it going?”
His voice sent a new set of shivers down my spine. Good shivers.
“It’s going,” I answered, smiling up at him. He looked incredible in dark jeans, boots, and a green and white button-down plaid shirt. The green in his shirt brought out the green in his eyes.
“Can you break away from here for a little bit?” he asked. He looked like he was up to no good, and I could never resist that Danny.
“I actually think I’m going to wrap things up.”
“Can I help you with anything?”
I unceremoniously swiped my arm across the table, sliding my business cards and the informational brochures I’d spent the last week working on into a box.
“All done,” I stated.
He laughed. “You don’t have to take this down?” he asked, tapping the tent pole with his hand.
“Nope. The committee provided the canopy, table, and chair.” I stood up, and before I could pick up my box of paper goods, Danny had it in his arms.
“Where am I bringing this?”
I nodded behind me. “My car is right back here.”
A stretch of Oak River’s Main Street was shut down for the Fall Festival. Vendors arrived early enough to get the good, close parking spaces. I was parked right beside The Diner, which happened to be right behind my booth.
I led him back, weaving through the people still lingering around. When I got close enough, I pressed the button for the trunk on my key fob.
“Thanks,” I said as he placed the box in the trunk.
“No problem.” He closed the trunk and turned to me, his elbow sticking out.
I felt my cheeks go warm at the sweet gesture, then I wrapped my hand around his arm. “Where to?” I asked.
He just smiled and led me towards the center of town. I smiled nervously as people looked at us. They were all looking at us, specifically at where my hand held the crook of his arm.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said as I began to pull my hand away. “Let them think. Let them talk. We’ll just be us, okay?”
I looked up at the man I loved. “We’ll just be us,” I repeated.
He smiled a million dollar smile and led me straight onto the makeshift dance floor in front of a small stage. A country music band crooned a cover of Alan Jackson’s “Red on a Rose” and I melted into Danny’s arms.
“Did you talk to a lot of people today?” he asked as we swayed slowly to the song.
“Yeah. Most were just people coming by to say hello, but I stayed busy earlier in the day.”
“Good. That’s real good.”
His arms were around my waist, mine were around his neck, and my head rested against his chest. The position was the same one we were in the other night, and I felt like I was right where I was meant to be.
“Yeah. I’d really love to pick up some new clients.”
“You will. I have no doubt. You draw people in, Jessica. In no time at all, you’ll have this whole town hooked on you.”
Like you’re hooked on me? I wanted to ask. Would that have been too presumptuous? Probably not, but it would have sent a message I wasn’t ready to deliver. I didn’t feel like I’d ever be ready, but I had a feeling Danny would wait. I had a feeling Danny was waiting. For me.
I sighed.
“What is it?” Always perceptive…
“This is nice,” I said. It wasn’t what I’d been thinking, but it was true nonetheless.
“It is,” he said. I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head. So familiar.
I closed my eyes, remembering dancing in this same way many times before. Homecoming, prom, our wedding…
“I’m going to love you, every day for the rest of my life.”
“I love it when you whisper sweet nothings in my ear,” I smiled.
“There’s nothing ‘nothing’ about it,” he said, nipping at my ear.
The music changed from something slow to something fast, but we didn’t pay attention. My head rested against his chest, his hands around my waist. He held me so close, so tight. I felt so safe, loved, happy.
It may have only been our senior prom, but I knew this was it. Danny Thompson was my forever guy.
“I love you, Danny. With all my heart and soul and everything else I can’t possibly think of in this moment.”
He pressed his lips to the top of my head, and I smiled.
“Every day for the rest of my life,” I said quietly.
The brief pause in his movements and the tighter grip on my waist let me know he’d heard what I’d said. It let me know he remembered, too. When he held me a little tighter and rested his chin on top of my head, I knew he was as much at a loss for words as I was.
- 29 -
“What’s going on with you and the older Thompson boy these days?”
I stared blankly at the elderly woman sitting in one of the matching brown leather guest chairs at my desk. She was the third client this week who felt the need to pry about my relationship. Apparently my public appearance with Danny at the Fall Festival over the weekend meant it was officially open season for relationship advice and opinions and everything else I didn’t care to hear about.
“Mrs. Blakeney,” I said, pointing to the documents on the desk, trying to redirect her attention.
“It’s a damn shame you two split up. Kids these days,” she started, shaking her head and tsking at me. I think some spittle landed my desk. “You all don’t work hard for anything anymore. You just give up. That’s not what a relationship is all about.” She droned on, but I checked out, biting my tongue so hard I could taste blood. It wasn’t the old bitty’s fault she didn’t know what she was talking about.
“And that sister of his,” she continued. “It’s a shame what she put that family through over the years.”
“Mrs. Blakeney,” I interrupted. She startled, looking at me with wide eyes. I might have raised my voice. Just a little bit. “If you could just sign here and here, we’ll be all finished.”
She wisely didn’t say another word and signed beside the flags on both revised copies of her last will and testament. I thanked her for her business and walked her to the door, wishing her a good rest of her day before locking the door behind her.
I sighed and sagged against the door frame. What was with people? I don’t remember the town being this invasive when I was in high school. No one seemed to care about Danny and me being together until we weren’t anymore.
I scanned and filed Mrs. Blakeney’s new will, then locked up my office. I didn’t bother heading home to change, just got into my car and drove over to The Diner to meet Mel for dinner. I beat her there and slid into a booth, browsing the menu I had memorized at the age of seventeen. It never changed. There was just something about looking at a menu for the billionth time.
“Sorry I’m late,” Melissa said, dropping her messenger bag down on the booth seat and sliding in acr
oss from me.
“I just got here myself,” I told her, setting the menu down.
“Why do you even bother?” she asked, gesturing to the menu.
I shrugged. “Maybe something different will pop out at me. I don’t know.”
“It’s all in the nightly specials,” Melissa said. “It’s what keeps things fresh. Mrs. Harper always has something new and different as a special.”
The waitress came by and we ordered our drinks and the special, which was some kind of fried pork chop smothered in heaven. I could feel my arteries readying for the assault, but I didn’t care.
“How’s your story going?” I asked. She had mentioned she was working on an exposé piece about an entrepreneur who had been looking to purchase some land just outside of town.
“It’s going,” she answered, sipping the Coke the waitress just dropped off.
“That good, huh?” I asked. I squeezed a lemon wedge into my water and set the rind back on the saucer.
“He’s just so...I don’t know. It’s hard to get any solid leads. He’s very elusive is all.”
“That’s frustrating.”
“Yeah, well, not as frustrating as your week apparently.” I’d texted her earlier in the week after busybody number two had come into the office. Lawyer-client privilege didn’t allow me to tell her who the clients were, but I could anonymously bitch to my sister.
“I wanted to think that they were making appointments because of the Fall Festival, but now I’m thinking they were making appointments just to meddle.”
“It’s quite possible.”
“I just wish everyone would mind their own business. It’s not like I don’t put enough pressure on myself or anything. Let me just add all of Oak River to that.”
“Just ignore them. I always do.”
“What do they say about you?” I asked.
“Nothing worth worrying about, though I’m sure there’s a deck of Old Maid cards somewhere in Oak River with my picture on one of the cards.”
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