Andi is also married. And despite that, Tyler implied that he had no plans to stop seeing her. He even mentioned that Andi’s husband didn’t mind the affair and the three of them thought it was a perfect arrangement on all sides.
No one bothered to ask me what I thought about it. And given the amount of time that they’ve been seeing each other, he had plenty of chances.
For what feels like the millionth time, I ask myself what I possibly could have done differently. Tyler said that he started the affair because he wanted to try something different. Not mentioning why he’d needed to try something different only a few months after we got engaged. He kept seeing Andi because he liked the different.
The sneaking around, keeping it from me was an adventure. Excitement that got him off. I take a sip of my Diet Coke to keep the bile from rising in my throat. I’m not exciting. I’m stable. Nice. He loves me.
I’m the person that makes his life easier and wants a little bit of love and attention now and then. Money to buy the plant collection I was fostering in our living room. A compliment on my cooking when I made something particularly good. He said he thought that’s what I wanted, and that I was happy.
And I thought I was happy. I really did. But looking back, maybe I wasn’t. Maybe I was just existing comfortably in the status quo that he forced us into. What I interpreted as easing into a domestic life together was Tyler putting me into a box and keeping me there.
It only took one email for that all to break open. A stupid confirmation number. Tyler paid for our flights with points he’d saved up, and I needed the flight numbers to give to my parents so they could pick us up. He’d actually gone out to pick up dinner for us, and he’d left his laptop on the table.
Normally I didn’t mess with his laptop, but it was open. And there it was…
An email from Andi asking if he still planned on fucking her silly before he left to go to Tennessee for Christmas. As long as I live I’ll never forget the coldness and dread that dropped through me. A simple search of her email address revealed how long it had been going on. And as many emails as there were, I’m sure there were even more texts.
I was an idiot for not seeing how protective he was with his phone and that it wasn’t work that constantly held his attention when he had to take a call or text.
When he came back with the Chinese food, I confronted him, and he wasn’t bothered or surprised. He was sorry that he hurt me, but he didn’t think that it was something that should bother me. I wanted him to be happy, right? And Andi made him happy. He didn’t see any reason why he couldn’t have both.
I may have thrown his ring back at him and locked myself in our bedroom. I don’t regret that part. Or the many, many names that I called him. Or the fact that I didn’t come out till morning and he looked exhausted from having to sleep on the couch. The bastard deserved it.
The plane starts to sink from the sky, and I down the rest of my soda in preparation. This will be fun. Oh wait. I’m not looking forward to the pitying stares and the requests for me to relive what happened over and over. Elgin is a classic small town, and the second that I show up here without Tyler, there’s going to be tongues wagging everywhere. It’s one of the worst parts of my hometown, but also part of its charm.
The upside is that I seem to have a hold on my tears for the moment. Right now my frustration and my anger are more powerful than my sadness. I’ll lean into that and hopefully I’ll make it.
It’s comforting, landing in Tennessee. Even alone. There’s something deep about coming home that feels good. Healing. Hopefully the amount of time that I’m going to be here will take the edge off so I can face Tyler and moving when I get back to Chicago.
When I’ll have to move my stuff out of our apartment. Find somewhere to live. Start a whole new life without him in it.
We land and deplane, and I make my way through the Nashville airport to baggage claim. The bags start to spin around the carousel, but before I see my bag I hear my name. “Carley!”
I turn to find my mother walking quickly toward me, a smile on her face. Seeing her, I nearly lose control again. But I manage a smile as she pulls me into a big hug. “It’s good to see you, sweetie. Where’s Tyler?”
I stiffen. “He’s not here.”
“Oh.” She sounds disappointed. “Okay, when’s he coming in? I thought you guys were on the same flight.”
And with those words, any chance that I’m going to cry in front of my mother disappears. Shock and anger are fully on my side now.
“Do you not remember our conversation?”
I called her when I found out about Tyler, after I was locked in our room and I had yelled myself out. After Tyler had stopped pounding on the door to apologize, telling me that he was sorry that I was upset—not that he was sorry for what he’d done. When she answered, I was crying and heartbroken.
But the first words out of her mouth weren’t comforting. “Carley, Tyler Marks is rich, handsome, and the best man that you’ve ever been with. He’s going places and you need to go with him. So he made a mistake. Throwing a man like that away over something that can be completely overlooked is foolish. And a shame.”
At the time I’d been speechless. “This wasn’t a mistake, Mom.”
“Don’t be silly. Of course it was. He loves you. He’s going to marry you. You’re the one he chose. For the rest of his life. Nothing else matters.”
“Yes it does,” I said, choking on the words. To me, four years of cheating on me wasn’t just a little mistake. It was a deliberate pattern that I wasn’t going to live with. “It does matter. Tyler and I are over.”
“Just sleep on it,” she said. “I’m sure it’ll all look better in the morning.”
I hung up shortly after that because that wasn’t the conversation that I wanted to have. And it didn’t look better in the morning. In fact, it looked so, so much worse. Because then I was seeing all the signs that I missed and feeling like a complete idiot for missing them and letting myself be treated that way.
Now, my mom is looking at me, confused. “Of course I do.”
“Do you remember the part of the conversation where I told you that Tyler and I were over? That we’d broken up and that it was permanent because he’s spent the last four years cheating on me?”
She points behind me and I see my bag coming around the belt. I grab it and she pats me on the arm. “We’ll see.” She’s still smiling, and I fight the urge to yell at her in the middle of the airport. There is no seeing this. It is done.
Leading me out the doors, I see my dad waiting by the car, watching to make sure they’re not going to make him circle again. “Hey, Kiddo,” he says when he sees me, his eyes lighting up. He wraps me in a hug, and I sink into him. I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, no matter what.
“Where’s Tyler?” he asks, and I freeze again. Am I going to have to do this every time? Why? I thought I’d made myself clear. Apparently not.
I look at my mother. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Of course not,” she says, grabbing my suitcase off the sidewalk and moving it into the trunk. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
“You have got to be kidding me.”
My dad frowns. “What’s going on?”
“Tyler and I broke up,” I tell him. “Three days ago. Because I found out that he’s been cheating on me for our entire relationship, and that’s not something that I’ll tolerate.”
Anger sparks in Dad’s eyes, but I keep speaking before he can. “But Mom decided not to tell anyone, even though I called her right away. So now I’m going to have to have every person asking me when he’s showing up as if nothing has happened.”
Mom passes me and opens the passenger door, and before she gets in, she deliberately rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t a real break-up.”
She closes the door behind her, effectively making that the punctuation in her statement. Dad has questions in his eyes, but I just shake my head. I’ll talk to him later. I get in the back of th
e car and lean back against the seat.
My mother has chosen a side, and it’s going be a long ride back to Elgin. A long, silent ride. I might as well close my eyes and pretend to sleep. Especially since I’m going to have to face everyone asking about Tyler.
Dad meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, and I see his apology. All I do is smile at him. Because what else can I do?
2
Casey
I heave the bag of feed over my shoulder and toss it into the back of my truck. Fifty pounds isn’t much on its own, but after lifting and tossing twenty of those bags my arms are a little tired. But it’s worth it.
Darlene and Jemma are giving me longing looks, and I savor them a little more than I probably should. After all, I have exactly what the pretty ladies want. That was the last bag of feed, so I don’t see why I can’t give them a little treat. They’ll eat it up.
Striding around the side of my truck, I dig out the bag of emergency beef jerky from the glove compartment and choose two pieces. “Here, girls! Beg for it.”
The two beautiful hounds come running and sit up on their back legs with perfect manners. As often as I come here, I have them trained. Every time they wait for me to finish loading up all my bags of feed so they can get a treat, and I always make sure that I have treats ready for them.
“You’re going to spoil them,” a voice calls.
“You say that every time.”
Red shuts the door to the feed mill, shuffling as he does. “It’s true I do. And you never listen.”
“That’s because they’re such excellent girls,” I say, leaning down to pet them. I love on them because I don’t have a pet of my own. The cattle and farm provide me with enough work that it doesn’t seem practical to get a dog, though I would love one.
“You been around town recently?” Red asks.
“No more or less than usual,” I say.
He whistles. “You wouldn’t believe some of the shit that’s going on around here. Stan Williams nearly got his head cut off by a combine because he got too drunk and decided it was a good idea to operate the damn thing at night. And the Harrison’s daughter ran off with a singer from Nashville. A singer. Neither one of them got a penny to their names but they think they’re gonna make it big.”
I chuckle softly. Red, like most of the people in this town, is a gossip. Mainly harmless. But everyone knows that if you want the news in town you don’t need to read the newspaper. Sure, some of the tales are embellished, but there is generally a core of truth to them.
“And the Farrell’s are hosting the fireworks this year on their farm again.”
“You say that as if they don’t host them on their farm every year, Red.”
He sighs. “I know, but I thought that it would be nice if you actually came this year. People have noticed that you never show up. And you know how people can talk.”
I raise an eyebrow, and he laughs. “Anyway, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Right around that time I’m getting the truck fixed up. Long overdue honestly. They’re going to dig deep into that engine and make her shine like the day she came off that factory belt.”
Red loves his truck. Everyone knows that. But it’s seen better days. “That’s great, Red. But what’s that got to do with me?”
“I just thought you might be able to give an old man a ride over there if you were heading that way.”
I tilt my head and wait. That’s not what Red is really asking. He has closer friends that he would ask if that were the case.
His face lights up like he just thought of something. “Oh, and my granddaughter will be here visiting too, if you don’t mind giving her a ride as well.” The grin on his face is like the goddamn Cheshire Cat. As if I don’t know exactly what he’s doing. What everyone in this town is trying to do.
I take a breath and stifle a sigh. Still, annoying or not, Red trying to set me up with his granddaughter isn’t enough of a reason for me not to be neighborly. “Sure,” I say. “I’ll happily give you guys a ride. But I have to get back to work now.”
“Sure thing.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Thanks, Casey. I owe you one!”
Darlene and Jemma watch me mournfully as I get into my truck, hoping for more treats. But I have to leave them wanting more or they actually will be spoiled in no time.
The fireworks. I do sigh this time. I haven’t been to the fireworks in years. Officially called the Farrell Farms Fireworks, but everyone shortened it. There isn’t anything else that it can be. And it has been a Christmas tradition in this town since before I was born. Long before.
Growing up it had been one of my favorite nights of the entire year. In some ways it was even better than Christmas Day. The whole town came together for a holiday carnival that got more and more extravagant over the years. Party games with all your friends, hayrides, the most amazing buffet of food you could possibly imagine, and then, after dark, a fireworks show that rivaled the ones in the big cities.
People come from everywhere for Firework Night. More than half the town’s budget goes to putting on the whole affair, though no one can say that the Farrells don’t contribute a significant amount of money and time as well. As well as their property.
It’s evolved as I’ve grown. When I was a kid, it was wilder and freer, and now it is nearly a city that pops up overnight. Local vendors and craftsmen. Specialty food booths outside the buffet. Carnival games. Elgin usually makes back what they spend and more on the night.
The Farrell’s farm is a mum farm. The hundreds of gorgeous flowers are raised in pots and completely sold out by the end of October. So not only is the field empty, it’s flat, and little work has to be put into it. Plus, no one cares if there are a few broken bottles or if someone’s car gets stuck in the mud. There is always plenty of time to get that sorted before the new planting season comes around.
The grounds are surrounded by woods on all sides. In the summertime, they are lush with berries and animals, but in the winter, though they are bare, they are still thick enough to get lost in. I’ve gotten lost in those woods once with a girl.
I try to fend off the memory, but it comes on me anyway. Breathless and hot, the two of us panting under the stars and the flashing colors of exploding light over our heads. I thought we had a chance at forever, but she only wanted a fling before she left for college.
She used me well—that night is still bright and perfect in my mind—but she didn’t speak to me again for the rest of our senior year. Or ever. She left Elgin and never came back. Moved to Chicago and married a fancy lawyer. Somebody I could never compete with. I don’t like to remember Carley, but everyone made sure I knew that she’d married that lawyer. I’m not sure why. Maybe it was just that classic Elgin gossip, but I heard the story from damned near everyone.
I turn off the country lane and head toward the highway to continue my errands for the day, running through why Red would pull this right now and forcing thoughts of Carley Farrell out of my head.
I haven’t been back to the Farrell Fireworks since that night. Not that it matters all that much. The Farrell’s property is right next to mine. I can sit on my porch and watch the fireworks—which I do—every year without having to wade into the carnival and relive memories I’d rather forget.
Another reason Red’s request is a little ridiculous. Picking him up to go to the fireworks is a big trip out of my way. Not that I mind, but the ride clearly isn’t his goal. It’s not exactly a secret that Red’s been trying to marry his granddaughter off to various men around town. And it isn’t the first time I’ve been conveniently arranged with daughters and granddaughters.
Everyone in Elgin hates that I’m not married. Comes with the territory of living in a small town. Everyone is up in your business, especially when you don’t want them to be. But nevertheless, I like Red, so I’ll indulge his request. Even if his hope of me sweeping his granddaughter off her feet is close to zero.
I turn off the highway toward Helenwood and head toward the general store. I need a few things, and I have a delivery to Mr. Doubleday just down the road. It will be good to see how he was doing.
The goal is speed. Efficiency. Get in and out of the store quickly so I can make the delivery and get home. But true to Elgin fashion, there’s no such thing as a short trip to the general store. I’m picking up some chicken out of the freezer when Big Sal waves me down. “Haven’t seen you around much, Casey. How you been?”
“Good, Sal, busy. You?”
“Good, good. Got some new equipment coming in that I’m excited to try out. But I wanted to know if you heard about the Farrells?”
I raise my eyebrows. Seems like my neighbors are the talk of the town today. “No, what about them. Everything all right?”
Sal grins. “Yeah. I just figured you might know seeing as you live so close. But Carley is back in town. And she’s alone.”
“What?” I swear my heart stutters. I don’t need to pay attention to what was happening in Carley Farrell’s life. It doesn’t matter. But she is the one that got away and my heart desperately wants to hear more.
“I don’t know,” he says. “But she’s here without her husband. Guess there was some kind of big falling out and she’s back here to recover. Oh.” Sal nods to my basket. “Also heard a storm is coming in, so get some extra.”
The girl stocking the fridge with meat turns to us. “I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that.”
“Saying what?” Sal asks.
The girl—I think her name is Shonda—rolls her eyes. “That Carley Farrell is married. They never got married. Engaged yes, married no.”
“How do you know that?” I ask.
She laughs. “You remember the engagement photos? Mrs. Farrell showed them to everyone who had eyeballs. If she’d have gotten married she would have papered the town hall with pictures of Carley’s big city wedding. And grab some milk while you’re here. Gonna freeze over for a couple days.”
She has a point. Mrs. Farrell does love to brag about her daughters. I nod to both Sal and Shonda, ducking past them as they continue on about the Farrells and I pick up the rest of my groceries.
Big Man’s Happily Ever After Page 34